Seeing Beyond the Veil

Last week, we loaded up the truck and travelled 12 hours through water, mud, dust, a school yard, a farmer's field to finally find a paved road WITH LINES on our way to the airport for the Ultimate Grandma Swap. Tyler's parents came to Uganda back in June. Granddaddy stayed a month, and Grandma stayed for three. It was truly a special time for all of us. On Saturday night, my mom flew in, and Tyler's mom flew out on the same plane. We're BLESSED to have these parents who are willing to fly over half a planet to come squeeze half a dozen grandbabies.

Helping men dig trucks out of mud.

Two hours sitting still watching this truck
go back and forth into the ditch behind him.

Love him.

The school yard we drove through.
Not so sure the head school master was too thrilled with us.

We are so glad to introduce the grandparents to our lifestyle, our home, and our friends they have only heard stories about.

Over the past year, we all have grown really close to some pretty amazing Ugandans. We sing together, rock our babies to sleep together, pray for our children together, sweep our dirt together, and LAUGH... oh we laugh! These Ugandan people have stolen my heart. So when we drove down to the capital city, Kampala, for the Grandma Swap, and I noticed mosque after mosque and so many women wearing veils, something changed in my heart.

Please forgive my ignorance and my wide open words... but truthfully, I've put up a wall against Muslim people. For whatever reason, and there are many reasons, I've had this picture of Muslims: They are those evil people with olive skin living in the desert over there... scheming on how they will destroy my people and my country... willing to strap bombs to themselves in an act of worship to their death loving false god.

Mosque in Kampala.

On my way to Kampala, I saw Muslims. But I saw them wearing skin blacker than midnight - just like my friend Catherine's. And I saw them strapping babies to their backs and shopping in the market - just like my friend Caroline does. And I saw them laughing. Like I do. They are Ugandans like the ones that wave to us as we pass them on the street with smiles a mile wide.

I thought on this long and hard... not much else to do on a 10 hour trip while holding two sleeping babies with no car seats on bumpy dirt roads. Would I be as eager to show the love of Jesus to a quiet woman under a veil as I would to one with Gap jeans and blonde highlights texting the day away? Didn't Jesus say WHOSOEVER believes in Him should have eternal life? How can she believe the Truth if she's only been fed a lie? And how will I reach her if fear and judgement have numbed my love for anyone wearing those clothes and bowing down during that call to prayer?

Fear can paralyze. Faith breaks chains and bonds and frees God to flow right through.

I'd love to tell you that I jumped right out of the car and told the first Muslim I saw how much God loves them, and He sent His Son to pay for their sins. They may be forgiven and know they have eternal life if they would just choose to live for Christ... but I didn't. I prayed that God would change me first. Remove the veil of judgement that hinders my sight. That I might see people like Jesus does... as souls in two categories: alive and dead, instead of any tribe or creed or tongue.

I sure am thankful that when I was dead in my sin, someone told me of the God Who forgives and saves. And the truth is, if this girl packed full of arrogance and filth can be changed and washed clean by the blood of Jesus, ANYONE can.

Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear: But your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you, that he will not hear.

Isaiah 59:1

O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?

I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord...

Romans 7:24-25