The nights I spent in the village were ebony black -- there were no stars to break the darkness nor was there moonlight to illuminate the well-traveled dirt paths. My torch lit the way for me and with each step I had a sense of rising gratefulness in my heart for the amazing privilege God had given me to encourage the women in this village with the Word of God.

As I anticipated, the week was full of many adjustments. The small flame of a candle flickered in the darkness as I went to bed and greeted me when I woke in the early hours of the morning. Dipping a small cup into a large plastic basin, I took a "bucket bath" with warm water that had been prepared for me over an open fire. Red dust streaked my body as I bathed. The faint scent of smoke filled my nostrils and for a moment childhood memories connected with the smell. I thought of the open fires my father used to build when we went camping as a family and my heart was filled with sweet memories.

I walked to the conference every day and as I traveled the dirt road on foot I experienced a small taste of life in Africa. Again, childhood memories enveloped me as my heart took me back to my grandfather's peanut farm in Suffolk, Virginia. As a little girl, how many times had I walked the dirt road that ran alongside the fields of peanuts back to the lake? God used even my childhood to prepare me for life in Africa. I felt so at home.

As I walked, I shared the road with grazing goats. I stopped and greeted people along the way as they asked, "How was the night?" To my positive reply they said, "That is good, very good." There is a joyfulness in the hearts of Africans that we yearn for in western culture. One evening, I heard the sound of laughter -- that deep African laughter that comes from their belly -- billowing through the night air, reflecting the warmth and richness of African friendship. It made me smile.

It was difficult to sleep each night because of the noise. The first night there was an all-night pre-funeral service with drums, music and preaching. On another night, there was a pre-wedding celebration that lasted until 2:00 am. The pulsating beat of drums bounced off the surrounding hills and wafted through the dark night. I laid in bed draped with a mosquito net, while an infrequent cool breeze brought pleasant relief to the hot night. At first, I wished for the drumming to be silenced so that I could sleep, but after about an hour I began to let the African rhythms bring rest to my heart. I drifted off to sleep with the sound of the drums faintly beating in the distance

 

The pastors' wives gathered for the conference every morning in a church made from hand-made bricks. They sat all day on grey slabs of concrete with no back support, some nursing their babies. The seemingly comfortless conditions did not inhibit their exuberant praise. They expressed the fullness of joy through their vibrant dancing and singing. As they listened attentively to my Bible devotions each morning, they seemed hungry for more. One pastor's wife told me she was going to take all she had learned and teach the women in the ten churches which are under their leadership. I was thrilled deep within me to think of the multiplication effect there is by teaching a few pastors' wives and then they will reach hundreds and even thousands with the Gospel.

 

 

On my last night in Arua, the Bishop's wife, Rev. Joy Obetia, had a goat slaughtered to honor me and we enjoyed the roasted goat feast. I am still adjusting to the taste of goat meat, but I was touched by their kind gesture as I know it was a big sacrifice to give up a goat for me. The African heart of hospitality is unsurpassed and I have learned so much by their generosity in spite of their poverty. They don't give from their abundance, but from the little with which God has blessed them.

As the plane flew over thatched roofs and mud huts on my way back to Kampala, I was filled with a great sense of gratitude to the Lord for allowing me to participate in His work in Africa ... for it is the love of Christ that compels us. I left praying that the women will continue to search for the treasures in God's Word and that their lives will be transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Luke 8:39 is the fruit I hope will come from the conference - "Return to your own house, and tell what great things God has done for you."