Of Weariness and War, heading for the broom tree

Sometimes the spiritual nature of the war for this world is unmasked, sometimes by the war in my own heart.  Weariness, plodding, irritability, rain.  Yesterday in thinking about the last couple of weeks it’s no surprise that like Elijah I want to run to the wilderness and feel sorry for myself.  Remember the dramatic show-down with the prophets of Baal, fire and rain and blood and speed?    Nothing quite that showy has happened in Nyahuka, but we have had a pretty intense stretch.  First, the whole Jonah show-down, his decision to return, his testimony, his presence.  I stopped teaching Jack and Julia math as soon as our new teacher came two weeks ago. . . And the pediatric ward immediately seemed to become twice as busy, as if the patients just doubled to take up the time that was freed.  Then it was touch-and-go with one of our dear team mates dealing with physical pain and imminent departure and intense emotions.  Meanwhile a visit from our Human Resources Director, encouraging but also the reality of having a day to day observer of our less than ideal family dynamics as he graciously put up with us in our home, and the reality that his visit puts everyone in the slightly edgy mode of thinking about their futures.  Then we’re trying to help Luke process his plan for CSB next year, what classes to take and whether to sit for the national Ugandan exams.  And did I mention that we heard a little spate of gunfire that was not worrisome in itself (no reports of a real attack, no one seems worried around us) it brought up memories of old insecurity and the current situation that we have a BIG team here, most of whom have not had to live through rebel rumors and reality before.  To make the picture complete, several team members have been sick, including one child who was frighteningly ill Thursday evening with pneumonia, now improving.

If you read the next chapter (1 Kings 19), you’ll see that all of those realities take their toll, even though in every case God has been faithful:  Jonah is posted and finally got his salary for the first time this year, patients are surviving, our team mate made it safely to the US, our Human Resources director had a great visit, we’re safely protected by a formidable UPDF presence, the crisis evening of sickness passed and all are back on the road to health.  But like Elijah, I’m wiped out.  

So like Elijah, Scott and I are escaping to the wilderness.  Some angels in disguise from the nearest Safari Lodge, a lovely tented camp for rich tourists, offered us a free night, and we have prevailed upon two of our single team mates to stay with the kids while we go tomorrow for Scott’s birthday.  Like Elijah we’re hoping for good food, lots of sleep, and time to hear the still small voice of God’s real presence.