Your security blanket is something and sometimes someone you turn to caress your check and have them whisper in your ear everything is going to be alright. An object that you clinch within your grasp and an feeling of peace overcomes you.
I can’t wait to put foot on American soil and be in the arms of my earthly father who will hold me tight and whisper in my ear I am here everything is gonna be all right. You see here in Africa you are chin deep in pain, despair, hopelessness, lostness, corruptness, death, disorder, disease and you know it’s not gonna be alright. You wanna help so many people but can barely make it to the throne yourself. How can this one single female from America bring a Nation to their knees and meet the Father when it take a ton to get her there herself.
Knowing I cannot bring food and medicine to all those in need. Knowing I cannot hold every child who is not only dying of starvation but dying of neglect cause there is no one to take care of them and tell them they love them. Knowing I can’t even make it out my house to bring them the Good News for I am paralyzed by not having my security blanket here.
How can I be Jesus to the people of Kampala (even without my blanket of security)?