Money. Living on support. I don’t know about you, but preparing for and living this kind of life has been a stretching experience. I grew up poor, was financially responsible for everything in my life at the age of 12 (school supplies, clothes, etc.). I learned how to be very frugal, making things last beyond their “shelf life.” I remember when I moved from my home in Kansas to Washington, D.C., at age 17, among the first things I realized was that I needed a rain coat, with the standard rain coat among government workers being a trench coat. I found a flannel-lined one cheap. But when winter came, that trench coat was not going to cut it. So, I simply layered that coat with sweaters and a second pair of pants, and I got by. Fifteen years later, I was a single mom in West Texas, and my frugality and money management skills were epic.
Decades later, the Lord began to prepare me to serve on the mission field. I had been independent all my life, always “knowing” that my needs were met by my hard work and careful minimalist living. My lack of trust in the Lord’s provision was exposed in this season. As He dealt with me, I released that independent spirit and stepped off the cliff. It was shocking to me how well He orchestrated and established my long-term support. Yes, I had to do my part; I had to send out letters and meet with people. But it wasn’t wholly dependent on me. I did my part, and He did His part. (By the way, I cannot do His part, and He will not do my part.) My support came together surprisingly quickly. Over time, as one supporter dropped, the Lord replaced. As you know, living on others’ generosity is very humbling. I have continued to be very frugal—it is my nature, and a silent expression of gratitude to those who do without to send me out.
In 2021, the Lord began to tell me to open my hands. When I moved from Southern Uganda to Northern Uganda, I sold very few things that I had in my home. Instead, I gave most of it away to Ugandans. I moved north with 10 tote bins and no furniture. In this new assignment, Holy Spirit gently began to prompt me to help this person, then that person, with their small needs—a sick child needing medication, transport money to attend a family burial. Without hesitation, I said “yes” to the Lord. As that became comfortable, He began to up the price, increase the tension of the stretching.
I worked with a young Ugandan man named George, who was the shopper for the ministry I worked with. He had a one-speed bicycle. Our ministry offices were at least five miles from the market and other stores. He bicycled back and forth all day long, getting as much as he could load on the back of his bike, going up and down steep hills in the equatorial heat and rain. The Holy Spirit began to let me see how tired George was, how his body couldn’t keep up with this six days a week, 10 or more hours a day. In November 2021, He told me to get George a three-wheeler truck (motorcycle with a small truck bed). I asked the ministry leaders for such a requisition, but their response was that it was not in the budget. Another month went by and the Lord again told me to get him a three-wheeler. I reminded the Lord that the leaders said it wasn’t in the budget. His response to me was, “I didn’t tell the ministry to buy it, I told you to buy it.” Gulp! How on earth could that happen? I tasked our senior procurement guy to look into pricing used versus new three-wheelers (a Ugandan would get a better price than a white person). The response was 6 million shillings used, 8 million shillings new ($1,750 / $2,300). I kept my eyes on Jesus, and somehow believed I could come up with that amount of money. Various delays inhibited my ability to move quickly, and the purchase was finally set for February 2022. I had the 6 million shillings in hand to buy the used three-wheeler. By then, the used one wasn’t available, so I set out to somehow come up with another 2 million shillings. That “somehow” became a somehow, and somehow I suddenly had 2 million shillings. Don’t ask me how because I don’t know. It was just there in my bank account. So as we moved to acquire the new three-wheeler, the cost had increased another 400,000 shillings as the Ugandan economy was in turmoil, for a total of $2,500 US. After another somehow, I handed over 8,400,000 shillings to buy the vehicle, and World Embrace became the proud owner of a three-wheeler truck.
Now, all these months, George had no idea what I (or more accurately, the Lord) was up to. He rode his bicycle into work that February morning, and there the orange vehicle sat, with me beaming at him (I dearly love this godly young man). The joy on his face was unforgettable.
His life dramatically changed that day, and I had no idea just how much. You see, I learned that back in November 2021, as the Lord was poking me, George had begun to cry out to the Him because his body was breaking. He told God that he couldn’t continue to do what he was doing, and he asked God for help. I will tell you God’s response shortly, because I didn’t learn of it right away. But God gave George’s burden to me so that I could become part of the blessing.
During the time that George was struggling, twice a week I used my newly acquired car (the miracle of how I had enough money for the three-wheeler after having spent 55 million shillings on a 2007 Toyota that I’d saved for three years) to take George to the market and load up what would have been four or five trips to town on his bike. We spent so much time together during those months. I learned that every Sunday, George spent his only day off at the government hospital, praying for people and leading them to Jesus. This was his passion! It is his calling. He wished he could do it every day.
Once we had the three-wheeler, I became almost obsessed with organizing George’s workday to be more efficient. My goal was for him to be done by 4pm so he could go pray at the hospital for two hours before going to the nightly prayer meeting he led. When I presented this schedule to George, his eyes lit up and he became animated. It was now that George told me what the Lord told him when he was praying for help. God responded to his prayers with this: “Be patient, my son. I am sending you a destiny helper.” George told me, “You are my destiny helper!” Immediately, a chill went through my body. This explained my obsession with getting him organized, with pouring into him, with loving him like a son. I was to open doors toward his destiny. What a beautiful assignment. I realized then that all the mentoring I was doing with the young people at this ministry was more in line with this title: Destiny Helper.
Thereafter, Holy Spirit continued to ask me to give big, and He showed me a picture that when I open my hands to give, they are also open to receive. My prior frugality was based on holding things close out of some degree of fear. The fear is gone! I’m still frugal myself, but extravagant with others. It’s so much fun!
