Only A Shadow

There is a song by Misty Edwards called “Only a Shadow” that has spoken to me a lot these past few weeks. It plays off of Ps 23:4, “even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” In the song it repeats the line… “Though I walk through the valley, its only a shadow, its only a shadow.” There is something about that concept that speaks straight to my heart especially during my time here in Africa.

A shadow is dark. Kids often fear their shadows. Often times it is looming and seemingly unending, yet with years comes perspective and as kids grow into adults the shadow loses its mystery and more importantly the fear that was once associated with it. But a shadow is still dark. A shadow is still seemingly unending…but it is only a shadow. No one knows when the shadow will end and be no more,, but the promise is that it is only a shadow.

Juliana’s passing was only a shadow. It was dark. It was hard. But it was only a shadow. Now, there is light. Her aunt Diana came by after the funeral to receive some pictures of Juliana that I had printed up for her. As she waited she shared her story with me. She is 22years old. She is herself an orphan, both parents dying when she was really young. At age 16 she got pregnant and now has a 5year old boy that she is raising on her own. She is 2 years away from completing her degree but has no money and no means to get money to finish her schooling. She asked if there was any work she could do at Welcome Home…the problem is that in order for her to make enough money to get back in school it would take years. So instead, I was able to give her a business loan. I told her that she needed to do the research and find out the cost of starting a small business in her village and to come back in a week with her proposal. A week passed, and there was Diana. She had written out a detailed proposal for opening a small cosmetic/beauty kiosk. She was given 500,000USH which is about $300. She was beyond grateful and beyond excited to get started. Her first payment is due in one month. There is light. Her family will never be the same. If this business succeeds not only will she have the means to keep her son in school, but she will eventually be able to complete her degree. The money will be paid back over a year and a half and then others will be able to use the money for similar loans. None of this would of happened if Juliana had not passed away, if the family had not come to Welcome Home. So Juliana’s story continues. Her short life was only a shadow, but now there is Light and with Light comes a bit of understanding.

We have been doing a lot of work at Welcome Home lately to return some of the children to their home villages. Many of the kids’ mothers died in childbirth and the fathers weren’t able to take care of them at the present time. Now there are 6 families who are ready and willing to take their children back and raise them themselves. We have given business loans to the families so they can start generating income. It has been a roller coaster of emotions for me as I have gone on the home visits with the kids. There is something beautiful about a child going home, about the entire community coming to welcome the child. However, the American in me struggles with picturing the kids in the villages. At Welcome Home they are given 3 meals a day, they have clothes, shoes, indoor plumbing, power, immediate access to health care and a bookshelf full of books and bins full of toys…they won’t have that in the village. Most will eat only one meal a day, they will be responsible for doing their own laundry, working in the fields, gathering water…it is almost as if childhood is taken from them and for the first time they are faced with responsibility. Most will still have the opportunity to be educated in the local schools, but then what? Chances are they will remain in the village their entire lives…Yet, I go out to the villages daily and see joy and community and love unparalleled and I don’t question the kids being there that I meet. I don’t pity them or wish I could take them away from their present circumstances. Who’s to say that life in America is better than life in an African village? Obviously the quick response is, of course it is…there is hope and future and opportunity. But is it better? Are more opportunities greater than the love of an entire extended community? Is the fast-paced culture of America better than a culture that strolls rather than sprints, a culture who finds it necessary to take time out for tea and for 5 minute hello’s and goodbyes’? The more I am here, the more I don’t see America as better, but simply different. Of course I think it would be great for all to have the means to be educated, to have good healthcare, to have electricity and indoor plumbing, and yet we don’t even have that in America. Life is different here, but even life is only a shadow.

Today I gave Christine 70,000USH (approx. $40) to have transport home to her village in Northern Uganda. She has cancer and she is dying. She has a place here in Jinja but she can’t take care of herself and has no one to help her. She knows she is dying and her only request was that she wouldn’t have to die by herself. She is going home to be with her family. Her shadow is dark and looming but this pain, this disease, is only a shadow and she saw some light today as she received the money necessary to go home.

Life, death, pain, suffering…all of it is only a shadow. And while the shadow itself is a place of grief and tears, fear and uncertainty…the promise is that it is only a shadow. The darkness is not permanent and that brings incredible light to my soul as I continue to serve here in Uganda.