"For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways."
Psalm 91:11
Thursday evening was beautiful. The sun was setting, the air was cool, and I was sitting with kids watching our big boys play soccer against some of the village guys. This is always fun, well until someone gets hurt. Typically, Ibuprofen and ice take care of the sport ailments, but after seeing Jeff’s shoulder, I knew I would not get off that easy. He sat on our front veranda with one shoulder significantly lower than the other, classic dislocation. After several unsuccessful attempts to reduce it, we decided Kampala would be the best place to take him.
I was extremely happy, because Sarah and I had planned to take a public taxi to Kampala for the AIM retreat that weekend. With the injury, we would be able to ride with Claudia (fellow missionary) instead of being cramped in the back of taxi with no way out. Sarah was disappointed, seeing she loves taxis, but I reminded her how great it was that Jeff would see a good doctor :). How could we know that God was orchestrating for our safety?
The next day, we headed out in Claudia’s car, blissfully ignorant of the unrest happening at that very moment. What began as peaceful protests had morphed into violent demonstrations over the most recent arrest of the man who lost February's presidential elections, Kizza Besigye. When we arrived in town, we noticed something was amiss. There were no cars in the streets and pedestrians were not moving, just staring at our car as we passed. A passerby simply told us, "if the police stop you, just tell them where you are going."
Moving close to the clinic, we were greeted by a sight I would not quickly forget: hoards of people running past, debris blocking the roads, and the sound of gun fire and tear gas being released. Police were everywhere. Many were dressed in full out armored riot-gear, all carried weapons, and most had gas masks strapped to their faces. A man bleeding from his head clung to the back of a boda (motorcycle), and an unconscious woman was slung across another boda, moving with the rushing crowd.
Our small band quickly left the car and went into the safety of the clinic. The remainder of our morning was spent watching ambulance after ambulance pass which were carrying some of the injured, random crowds of people running past us, and the pops and booms of gun shots and the release of tear gas. I felt like I was on the inside of some CNN news special report!
Looking back at that day, I’m reminded of how things are not as bad as they could be. Yes, it was stressful, but God’s grace and provision was so evident. If our plans had gone as we anticipated, we would have been on a taxi, in the downtown taxi park where many sources say the worst fighting was. Instead we were safely tucked away in a medical clinic, getting the care people needed. All because a young man has been injured the night before! God’s plan is perfect.
Never underestimate what God can do with a dislocated shoulder.
