This Is My Father's World

One of the things I came to realize during my time in Kampala was the obvious fact that since my arrival here in Uganda, I have taken on the weight of responsibility for the extent of injustice, poverty, sorrow, and need that I’ve come into contact with. I have tried to bear the weight of this on my shoulders. I think if you gave my shoulders a squeeze, even now, you could probably feel something of this weight in the tension of my muscles. One night in Kampala, my shoulders gave out.

It was the day of the nurses station conversation in which the nurses and nursing students were pleading with me to take them to America with me because they want to go and the US Embassy won’t give them visas. What do I say to explain to them the ease with which I and hundreds of other Americans have come to their country for various reasons and lengths of time, as compared to the difficulty and likely impossibility of them ever coming to the US, I asked myself. I demanded an answer of myself, and myself didn’t have an answer to give. My shoulders gave way. It might seem trivial issue to you, but I think the visa issue was just the last straw, my shoulders couldn’t handle any more. When I crashed on my bed, still in my white uniform, after my return from the hospital, I broke down in tears. “God, I can’t do this. I don’t know what to say, what to do. I can’t take on the responsibility for this.” And I realized then that this wasn’t the only thing, that under this visa issue was a whole pile of things I’ve seen, heard, felt, and experienced here I can’t explain, that I can’t change, that I have no answer or resolution for.

This realization, these tears, this episode of my shoulders giving way to the weight of the world around me, drove me to my God. I started flipping through Psalms and came to and read the 89th.

“O Lord God of hosts, who is mighty as you are, O Lord, with your faithfulness all around you? You rule the raging sea; when its waves rise, you still them…The heavens are yours; the earth also is yours; the world and all that is in it, you have founded them. The north and the south, you have created them; Tabor and Hermon joyously praise your name. You have a mighty arm; strong is your hand, high your right hand. Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne; steadfast love and faithfulness go before you. Blessed are the people who know the festal shout, who walk, O Lord, in the light of your face, who exult in your name all the day and in your righteousness are exalted. For you are the glory of their strength, by your favor our horn is exalted. For our shield belongs to the Lord, our king to the Holy One of Israel.” Vs. 8-9, 11-18

The earth is His. Justice is of the foundation of His rule, it’s His, not mine. And blessed are those who walk in the light of that knowledge, walk in the light of His face. Blessed are those who walk as if their horn is exalted by Him alone.

This is my Father’s world…though the wrong seem oft so strong, He is the ruler yet.