"Save me Daddy! Save me!" Jan 3 2014

January 3rd, 2014

“Save me Daddy! Save me!”

I’m sitting at gate 63 cycling from Facebook back to my AOL account secretly hoping that somebody has posted something that will pique my interest and keep me entertained for the next hour while I wait to board the first leg of this fifth trip to Africa.  A family sits near my feet, a mother with 3 young children who are consuming copious amount candy which I am sure was purchased and intended to help them travel, making it  more interesting or providing some additional motivation as they sit cooped up on the 4 hour flight. Since they are working furiously to ingest the whole stash, I can only guess that this mother hen is a novice in flying with her little ones. My best memories of sugar overdose at 9am equals a meltdown equivalent to

Chernobyl and probably just about boarding time.  I’m trying really hard not to overhear which seat they have been assigned just incase it is very near mine.  I will be no help because for the first time in a long time I didn’t pack to entertain anyone younger than myself. 

Over my shoulder the clicking of plastic wheels under the bulging carry-ons heading for another gate, remind me that neither the economy or distant snow storms have effected these Friday morning travelers.  Glancing around the waiting area one woman does push-ups, IPads adorn laps everywhere and I try to guess the destinations of others.  I wonder if anybody else will land in on a foreign continent in 24 hours.  Can anyone else see Uganda on my face? 

This is my first trip to Africa flying solo…, heading out as the scout and to prepare for 11 more who are leaving in a week.  Mostly, though I go to allow and encourage Janet, Chayah’s house mom to get away for a few days.  A break, holiday, days off are not part of the working culture there, generally speaking.  Of course, the US or other more developed countries have had an influence on the more professional schedules I guess.  But a half day off in 3 months is more than routine for most.

So we’ll see how the negotiations turn out when the time comes, either way I’m prepared to entertain and oversee 18 energetic Chayah children for a few days with God’s help and a few craft supplies.

At home in the garage, tables are piled high with necessities, clothing, and tools all donated by those who share our hearts for suffering children.  Fifty pound increments will be packed into suitcases, weighed and then tagged by duct tape bearing the face of Mickey Mouse.  Its not that we have any special affinity for Disney...but its something easy to spot on the conveyer that will deliver our 1200 pounds of provisions at midnight in Entebbe’s airport.

The traveler’s bustle behind me is interrupted by a 3 foot little man yelling “Save me Daddy!  Save me!”  at a pitch that says he is in no danger at all but calling out playfully taunting his big strong daddy for some wrestling.  Seeing through the lens of our destination and its abandoned children makes today’s cry stand out like a torch in the dark.  So many parents either missing or simply fighting to survive with little left over for playful anything.   Back to the pathways of Kakira brings a mixtures of emotions.  With each trip we become a little more familiar with the struggles & successes of families, and we continue to learn how to help transpose a saving Jesus into the suffering.  With a lot of planning and prayer, we have our schedule and ideas outlined but wait for the moments when God intervenes with something different that we didn’t see coming.   The goal always is to serve in a way that allows plenty of opportunity for the Holy Spirit to lead others to the understanding that crying out “Save me Daddy! Save me” is powerful, life changing and real hope.