REST

My ears are ringing.  It feels like I’ve lost 20 years of my hearing.  Just this morning I had to ask Wendy to read to me Acts 9, but to please read it with a bit more volume.  Yesterday, the Ugandan Cranes were in town (that’s our national soccer team).  They were playing a match to qualify for the African Cup…kind of a big deal.  In the past, I have experienced such things (whether music concerts or major sporting events), which I considered extremely loud and electric.  But this was a whole new level, one of chaotic decibels I am suffering from at this very moment.  The Cranes won, so you can imagine the pandemonium.   For less than 30 US dollars, 3 guys and myself, plus 45,000 others were victorious, even if it was just by a goal, and even if it was just for the day. 

And to me, this is what Uganda feels like.  I know it doesn’t sound biblical or at all culturally correct.  One day you feel superhuman, and the next it seems you can’t do a thing right.  Most would say, but that’s life, and they’re probably right.  But as a leader, we try not to show our bad days.  My father’s always said I’ve never been very good at that.  He’s right. 

I recently visited a friend.  I had heard her father had stage four cancer.  I wanted her to know Wendy and I were there.  My intentions were to encourage her, to make sure her eyes were still on her Heavenly Father, in the midst of it all.  After I was done asking how she was coping, it was like God began to speak through her directly to me.  Her dad had been released from the hospital just two days back…his treatments continued from home.  As she described to me the physical state her father was in, it was almost too much.  But then, this woman’s faith began to shine.  She said she was done being sad, done being helpless, done being restless, done saying to her self, “What happened???”  Her attitude changed from “what happened” to “let’s make it happen!”  And that’s when the switch occurred.  Instead of weeping and worrying, she began to worship.  She worshiped at her workplace, she worshiped at her home, and she worshiped while spending time with her father. “Dad accepted Christ”, she told me with a smile.  “It’s all worth it Todd, our reward is coming, and for me, it’s come.”  But the one comment that stuck with me through out our conversation was this one, “I chose to rest in God.”  Jesus wanted me to hear that. 

Working hard is something we take pride in.  But resting well, that’s another issue.  If I were completely honest, I’ve never been able to “rest well” while on holiday.  Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy getaways, different scenery and environment is good for the soul.  And as our daughters have grown, Wendy and I have been able to enjoy holidays even the more.  (Though that 3^rd child in the room, and the fact that two of our children are 12 and above, the discounts have disappeared!)  For me, I’ve found, resting well, has little to do with vacations, holidays, or weekends, though I’m not giving up on those.  Real rest has more to do with focus, being intentional about how you spend your time, and who you spend it with.  Balance has never been my forte.   The older I become, the more I see its importance, and the more I’m striving towards it.   But resting one’s heart in Jesus, that takes trust, it takes perseverance, and grace from the One who provides each heart beat. 

Yesterday, just before Solomon, Ivan and myself began our Tuesday bible study, I received a simple but tragic text message…”Dad passed away today”.  All of me wanted to focus on the message, but my friends were there and after some encouraging words, we set our focus on the Message.  This morning as I sit here and write these words, I’m glad we did.  We chose to focus on Life and not on death, to keep our eyes and hearts on the prize, which awaits all who are in Christ Jesus.  After visiting the families home, yesterday evening, trying to provide any comfort one can at a moment such as this, I remembered the words Ivan and Solomon said, “Todd, you’re here to love, to provide guidance. We need you to stay strong.”  When I reached home later that evening, Wendy and the girls were waiting.  I was bombarded with questions from Lucy.  I didn’t mind.  Wendy loved on me.  It was a beautiful, yet sad moment.  Today is the burial.  Ivan and I are about to set off to the village some two hours from Kampala to lay to rest a man, a husband, a father, and grandfather, but must importantly a child of God.