Some of you were interested in following Aunt Sheila’s journey and missionary work as she moves to Uganda.
She has started a Blog, which you can find and follow at: https://buffysugandajourney.wordpress.com/
If you are interested in supporting her mission, please visit: Christian Fund Me
About Sheila (aka Buffy)
Being raised as a pastor’s daughter I have been exposed to mission opportunities all my life. In all that time I never felt the calling to go and serve in any capacity on the mission field. I was always willing to give my few dollars when the missionaries came around but never wanted any part in “getting my hands dirty.” This all changed in 2010.
My youth pastor and his wife (Mark and Christiana Sly) had some way gotten connected to this orphanage in Uganda and served there for 2 weeks. When they returned and gave their testimony and talked about returning the next year, I suddenly had this burning compulsion to go. This was a feeling that I was not familiar with. I just knew that I had to go.
For the next year I was really busy raising my money and getting ready to go. I had multiple immunizations to get and a passport to apply for. All this time I was so busy and excited to be going to serve in Africa that I didn’t have time to think about what I was getting myself into.
So, in July of 2011 I am sitting in the airport in Atlanta with my boarding pass in my hand when reality set in. I am going to a baby home, and I DON’T DO BABIES. I couldn’t have children so being around babies always makes me get really emotional. So here I am in shock about what I have gotten myself into. At this point I am questioning whether or not God had anything to do with this.
I get on the plane (can’t turn back now) and question myself, and God, all the way to London. While sitting in Heathrow airport for an 11 hour layover I am questioning my sanity. When we finally get on the plane going into Uganda I spend the next 8½ hours saying over and over, “9 more days and this will all be over, and I never have to do this again!”
Arriving at the Entebbe airport involved a new experience for me. All my other flights I had left the plane through a portable walkway that was attached to the plane and led directly into the airport. Here you had to walk down the stairs and across the tarmac into the airport. I will never forget the way I felt as I stepped through that door onto the stairs. All of a sudden it felt as if I could literally feel the country breathe.
So, now I know that I am really supposed to be here! My next question is, “So God what are you going to do about the baby thing?” Upon arriving at Sonrise Babyhome we were greeted with this jubilant welcome that can only come from Africa. We were made to feel like royalty in an overwhelming way.
The next day as we started our duties I found out why I was there. The rest of the team were either oohing and ahhing over the babies or the children at the children’s home. During this time I was out back with the cook. I learned to cook beans and rice over a stove made from the rim of a tire that was raised off the ground with poles welded to the sides. Charcoal was placed inside and this was their main method of cooking.
Over the next several days God showed me that my service that year was to the care-givers. I scrubbed pots with steel wool, stirred the posho (a really hard task) with what looked like a boat paddle. Then the beans for the next day had to be carefully separated from whatever trash may have gotten into them and the rice had to be separated from the husks that were mixed in with it. I baked cake in the guest house where we stayed on a propane stove with no thermostat, and learned to melt chocolate for frosting in a homemade double boiler.
We had the opportunity to visit several schools and a visit to one of the islands was a real test of our faith. The boat we took across Lake Victoria was loaded to the max and one of the guys in the back was steady bailing water that had seeped in between the boards on the side. There is no way that I could have been prepared for the poverty that these people experience every day. But what struck me most was their joy. They were so happy and willing to share what little they had.
When it was time to leave, that time I had so looked forward to, I was heartbroken…CLICK HERE TO READ MORE.