I met a young lady named Aisha yesterday as we visiting a hotel overlooking the Nile. Samuel and I were seeking a good place to bring ministry teams in the future, checking out the room rates, quality of accommodations and such. And we always have our eyes open for a place to baptize because the church at Bujjowali has no way to baptize their converts, yet has six people waiting. This hotel, right in their own community, back off the road a bit, hidden down a long, narrow dirt road so you’d never even know it was there, has a swimming pool. So we had multiple interests in checking them out.

Aisha was showing us around, and as we stood on a balcony enjoying the beautiful view of the river down below us maybe an eighth of a mile away. Our conversation really moved from formal to fun when two ladies carrying water cans on their heads coming down a road far off in the distance  stopped in the middle of the road and were staring at us. They were far enough away that we must have been tiny figures to them.

I said, “What are they looking at?” Aisha said, “They are looking at you,” and then we all laughed together – a sweet musungu moment. Let me tell you a little about Aisha. Both of her hands were very badly scarred and deformed, and her left was heavily wrapped from a recent reconstructive surgery. This lovely girl of 18 had fallen into a fire when she was a baby and had been terribly burned, so much so that her left hand is unusable and her right is very difficult to use. She was receiving surgical reconstruction from a generous American doctor and told me frankly of her suffering without making it at all self-indulgent – it was her life and so she told me. She faces a long series of painful reconstructions in both hands that, if not donated, she could never have.

I was able to pray for her healing and her studies; and then her friend, who was also standing nearby, asked me to pray for her as well. Remembering that our conversation opened in laughter, I can tell you that they ministered to me more than I did to them. God even inhabits hotel balconies…

I wonder if that’s what the two women were really looking at as they stared up the long hill at us…was there another member of our little group standing there? One like unto the Son of God, perhaps?