not a local

A few nights ago some of my friends and I watched Invisible Children. It’s an hour-long documentary about the civil war in Uganda. More specifically, it’s about the Ugandan children who are spending the “care-free” years of their lives hiding from the rebels. The rebellion in Uganda has been in the business of “rebelling” for over 20 years now and is naturally having a hard time finding people to fight for them. The people are tired of war. So, in order to continue the rebellion, soldiers are abducting children and brainwashing them into coldblooded killers. Away from the smaller villages, children commute to hospitals and bus yards to sleep in masses for protection.

It’s a terrible story. Saddening. I typically would’ve spent the entire hour crying, but this time around (I watch a lot of things about Africa) I didn’t. I may have half-cried two tears. Why? I don’t necessarily think I’m desensitized to what’s going on over there, but I’m definitely frustrated with myself. I’m tired of crying for Africa; I’m tired of being saddened and then going on with my comfortable life. I want to do something. I want to go.

I’m actually more frustrated with the idea that I have to wait. I want to go now. The Lord, however, is saying “wait.” So, I have to wait for Africa, and as my heart breaks for the people in Uganda all I can do is pray. I need to come to the understanding that God doesn’t need me to go in order to save the people. He doesn’t even need me to pray, but oh how He loves to honor the prayers of the saints; especially when those prayers are for widows and orphans.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:8-9

I will rest in His truth, not my emotions.