We Bought Land

I've long been fascinated with the idea that God, the Creator of the universe and arguably the greatest author in and outside of time, is still in the business of writing stories. I also believe that as the created, there lies within us a natural curiosity and zeal for knowing these stories, even playing a character in one. Like the presence of God, these stories are all around us, many of which we ourselves are a character in. We're a supporting role to a friend, a one-sentence appearance to an acquaintance. Occasionally, we are given the opportunity to read the page of a story and because of it, we can no longer fathom a life of happiness without being scribed in as a character.

I read a page recently, but it was so much more than that. More than reading a story that had since been completed, I was living it - the page filling as the clock ticked. In a small Ugandan village called Bufula, God is writing another one of His provocative love stories, interwoven with the elusive sense of humor so many fail to see. When old community leaders start squirming in their chairs because they want to dance, are there words? When a woman, so exciting her grandchildren will go to school, runs home to bring her contribution to the tremors of celebration - a small bag containing five pieces of fried bread, are there social protocols? When you feel yourself being swept into a story having never seen the casting sign, do you strap up your boots or retreat?

Its funny, you know. When you take the plunge into someone else's story, God is writing the best parts of your own. He wrote the most awe-inspiring love story in history, and then He says to us, so unworthy of even His peripheral, "I'm entrusting it to you. Go, tell everyone, and make disciples of them. And as you go, I'm going to fuse my story into yours. Trust me with the middle and I promise, the ending will shame your wildest imagination."

This particular story in Bufula began Saturday afternoon. The chapter ended with our negotiations for a piece of land on which to build a school. I haven't recorded the day's events into words yet, but I could make a guess at the last paragraph. The community watched from several yards away as we negotiated the price for the land between myself, the land owner (an elderly woman), her son, and a few leaders. I found out later that the community was reserving their celebration for after a final agreement was made. When our negotiations ended, the land owner jumped up and ran back to the crowd yelling and waving her hands.  On our way home, my translator told me what she said: "God is here! He loves our village! We have settled on a price and my grandchildren are going to school!"

And with that, the news is out. We took our first step of faith of this unknown journey. We bought land. Pictures and more details on their way this week.