It was 2008 when my husband, Paul, and I went to Uganda for our first mission trip. It energized me in a way that I hadn’t experienced in years, loving everything about the rural village that served as our base of operations. As I walked the lush footpaths with the laughing children, I felt God’s presence in a profound way. I was so moved by the experience that as we gathered with the villagers on the last day of our trip, I publicly promised that we would return the following year – and every year thereafter.
Unfortunately, Paul’s experience differed vastly from mine. As a family physician, he had been asked to serve in a one-room roadside “clinic” with no other doctors, no electricity, no running water and no medical supplies other than what he had brought in his suitcase. What he did have in abundance was an endless number of patients – many of whom had walked for miles to seek help – with long lists of symptoms and serious medical problems. Paul would work late into the night using a flashlight and then get up the next day and do it again. Continuar leyendo «I had fallen head over heels in love with Uganda and couldn’t wait to return»