Almost Like God Knows What He’s Doing
One of the pastors’ homes under construction when we arrived.
In the fall of 2022, I traveled to eastern Uganda with work pants, gloves, and every expectation that I would help build homes for pastors. Five of us from Riverwood Covenant Church spent ten days in Uganda, based in Soroti. I never put on the gloves. Not once.
The homes had been funded before we arrived so construction could begin without waiting for us. By the time we got there, experienced local workers were already making progress. They were young, fit, accustomed to the heat, and knew what they were doing. Had we joined them, our primary contribution probably would have been slowing them down. That isn’t false humility. I’m pretty sure it’s an accurate assessment.
It turned out to be a blessing. Instead of spending our time getting in the way at construction sites, we visited nine pastors’ homes and blessed them. We sat with people, ate the food they prepared for us, and spent time together in their villages. We also participated in children’s ministries at two schools, attended a church service in Soroti, and held a marriage conference for pastors and their wives.
About 800 remarkably attentive students listened as we spoke about Jesus.
I was completely unprepared for how important something as simple as sitting down and sharing a meal would be. Again and again, people said, “Thank you for loving us.” It absolutely leveled me. We had traveled thousands of miles expecting to demonstrate love through what we did. What many people valued most was that we came to their homes, ate their food, listened, worshiped, laughed, and spent time with them. It melted my heart then, and the memory still does.
Our mission team, a local pastor, and the homeowner praying, giving thanks, and dedicating the new home to God.
One of the greatest personal blessings was meeting Gloria. Kerrie and I had sponsored her for several years, but I never expected to meet her in person. Pastor Joseph assured me before the trip that he would make it happen, and he did. Sponsoring someone from thousands of miles away is meaningful, but it can also feel a little abstract. Gloria was no longer a name, a photograph, or someone we heard about through occasional updates. She was a young woman sitting in front of me. Meeting and talking with her was the highlight of the trip.
Meeting Gloria was the highlight of the trip.
I also came home with a different understanding of wealth. Many of the people we met had very little materially. Some had no electricity or running water. Some lived in homes with dirt floors and roofs that might last only a few years. In the most difficult circumstances, getting water required a long walk, and the water available was not necessarily clean.
I don’t want to minimize those hardships. A lack of clean water, durable housing, or reliable income is real. At the same time, describing the people we met only by what they lacked would miss much of the truth. They may have been economically disadvantaged to a depth I had never personally witnessed, but I have a hard time calling them poor. They were rich in joy, faith, warmth, and generosity.
Many were getting by day by day, yet they displayed more joy than people I know who earn literally twenty times as much. They welcomed us into their homes, fed us, prayed with us, and repeatedly thanked us for loving them. I went there expecting the trip to enrich me spiritually. It did, although far more than I anticipated and not in the way I expected.
That memory still corrects me. When I catch myself feeling disgruntled over some minor annoyance, I think about the people I met in Uganda. I remember their joy, generosity, faith, and gratitude. Whatever is irritating me does not always disappear, but it usually returns to its proper size.
We did not build the homes. They were already being built by people far better equipped to do it. Our role was to encourage, listen, share meals, form relationships, worship together, and love people. Perhaps that was the work we were meant to do all along.
You make the best plans you can and then God steps in, changes them, and makes something far better happen. Almost like God knows what He’s doing.
Erik Brown 