Our Own Kind

I have been trying to psych myself up to do a blog post for over a year. After many lame attempts that have wound up in my virtual recycle bin, I am resolute that this will be the one. Not because I have something exceedingly important to say, but because I am fired up.

A few days ago, yet another person felt the need to give us a piece of their mind about our pending adoption and/or partnership with Boanerges Deaf Initiative in Uganda.

“Aren't there any Americans that need homes? If you want to help someone, why don’t you help one of our own?”  

You would think that after being presented with these questions on such a regular basis over the last year, I would have some type of snappy comeback and that it would be like water off a duck’s back. For some reason, the opposite is true. Each time someone says something of the like, it irks me more.

It’s not that I don’t get what people are trying to say. Absolutely I do. I try to imagine my response if someone would have told me a few years ago that we would be heavily involved in a ministry in Africa. That John had not only visited Uganda, but was chomping at the bit to return. I would have told you that you were out of your tree. This is the same man that flatly refused to go to Bermuda because he didn't want to ever leave American soil. BERMUDA! This man is NOT a world traveler. And had no desire to be so. And I was pretty much cut out of the same cloth. And AFRICA of all places? Fugetaboutit. It's humid there, right?

As is often the case, we plan (or fail to) and God laughs. He has a unique map for each of his followers to love their neighbors. Of course, we know that the lovely widow down the street who needs help shoveling the snow from her driveway is our neighbor. Or, the working woman who needs someone to let her dog out every day. Or the schoolteacher across the street who flashes her porch lights for the boys to say good night. We believe that when Jesus commanded us to love our neighbor, for us he was also talking about people living seven thousand, two hundred, and eighty-four and a half miles away in Kawempe, Uganda.

The thing that frustrates me is that sometimes people seem to think that it has to be one or the other. You can be involved in helping folks in Uganda or locally. Pick one. Now, please don’t get me wrong, I am constantly failing to adequately serve the folks in my path. Striking a balance with family, homeschooling, friends and lending a hand where needed in my own community is something that I struggle with. And sometimes, I get plain lazy. But just because we are very involved with a ministry in Africa does not mean that we are not also interested in helping out locally where we can.

I want serve Christ buffet style, not cross my arms and order off God’s menu a la carte. There are so many awesome ways that we can make a difference! This weekend I attended an outreach event organized by a dear friend of mine for families of children affected by autism. What a blessing to be a part of that ministry! I have other friends who work to help women in crisis pregnancies choose life for their babies. I want to lend a hand with the work they are doing as well!

None of us can do everything. Sometimes, despite the fact that I really desire to help in a tangible and practical way, the most I can do is pray. And that is enough. Christ never called us to run ourselves ragged trying to manufacture ministry. But he does consistently place opportunities to show his love and mercy to people in my life. And, he has opened a crazy amount of doors (I am a throw-out-another-fleece-type of girl) for us to serve in, and adopt from Uganda. And we are so grateful that he did.  God has planted fierce love in our hearts for a little Ugandan girl named Nakafuuma Leticia, and we are desperately hoping and praying that she will soon join our family.

So, when puzzled people inquire as to why we don’t want to “adopt an American” or “help our own kind,” I haven’t quite nailed down a hard and fast response. I mean, my internal dialogue goes crazy with snarky responses, but I try to keep them in check. I guess that the short answer is that our God is so big, that when he talks about loving our neighbors, sure, he means the folks that live across the street. But, he can also be referring to deaf Ugandan children nestled in a little plot of land over seven thousand miles away. Both are “our kind.”