In southern Uganda, the villagers were thankful. For everything.
They uttered “Webele nyo!” (Thank you very much!) and “We-bese Kotanda!” (Thank God!) so frequently that Gabe had become fluent with the phrases.
He was amazed at how thrilled they were to have Americans come to their homes. They treated him and the rest of the team like royalty or long-lost relatives.
He feasted on more mush than he had believed was humanly possible, but he had no intention of complaining or refusing a meal. Each bowl of food was made with care and offered with gratitude by the recipients of his medical expertise. He understood now why Stevens came every year and why this place and these people had stolen his friend’s heart.
At night, a peaceful quiet descended on the orphanage where Gabe, Lyle and Chrissa Stevens, and Veronica were staying with others on the medical mission team.
The team members would find a quiet spot to sit by themselves and recount the day’s events or exchange advice and encouragement. Chrissa would lead the group in songs that she often performed across Houston with a Christian band.
This evening was no different. Each of the team members shared details about a particular challenge or success they had experienced hours earlier, including how some of them wound up praying for the people they were also trying to physically help. How could you not pray for a child who was wasting away because the lack of antibiotics had caused an infection to spread throughout the six-year-old’s body? Or for the grandmother who was dehydrated and refused to eat so that her daughter and grandchildren would have enough food to keep them healthy and strong enough to work?
At some point, the conversation shifted to the team members themselves and how they were faring in an environment so different from home. That conversation led to one about the importance of committed relationships, and how what they were doing in Uganda was modeling for the people they helped how unconditional love and friendships could blossom despite differences in color, culture, and status.
A few team members kept steering the discussion to romantic connections.
“I’m no good at them,” Veronica said, and glanced at Gabe. “At least not long-term ones.”
“Why not?” Chrissa asked. “That’s usually an answer a man would give.”
Gabe leveled his gaze at Stevens’s wife. “Be careful, woman . . .”
Chrissa laughed. “It’s true,” she said. “Most guys don’t bother to stick through the hard stuff. They want everything to revolve around them, to go their way, to make their world easier.” She looked at her husband. “Dr. Lyle Stevens had that same problem, until he met a man named Jesus. Thank ya!”
She threw her hands in the air and threw her head back, causing her blond ponytail to flail behind her.
Gabe bellowed with laughter. Chrissa was a sweetheart, but she needed to give up trying to be hip.
When he had composed himself, he turned to Stevens. “What really changed you, man?”
Stevens shrugged. “Like she said, I met a man named Jesus. When I developed a deeper relationship with him, I realized that when I served and loved my wife, I was serving and loving him.”
Something tugged at Gabe’s heart. He had never heard a commitment to God described that way.
“You alright?” Stevens asked.
Gabe nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “That was just deep.”
Veronica’s lilting laughter filled the air. She winked at Gabe and smoothed her loose-fitting linen shirt over her ample chest. She had left her cosmetics at home, but even just a hint of lipstick and mascara gave her an exotic look. Gabe knew she wanted him.
The way his wife had been acting, he deserved to be pampered. He craved some attention, but lately, he had desired it from Rachelle.
Gabe stood and excused himself from the group. He ambled toward the edge of the orphanage’s enclosed terrace. The area was only partially lit, and he felt less exposed. “Stevens, come here for a minute?”
Gabe stuck his hands in the pocket of his khaki slacks and waited. When Stevens joined him, out of the group’s earshot, Gabe asked a question that had been nagging him for several days, since he had witnessed a Ugandan mother bury her sickly infant and another woman squeeze the last of her milk out of a dry breast. The supply of food and water that Gabe and another team member arrived with had left the second mother delirious with joy.
“About this loving and serving stuff, how does that work in the real world?” Gabe asked. He felt awkward asking such a touchy-feely question, but this was his friend.
Stevens draped an arm across Gabe’s shoulder. “You finally ready to have ‘The Talk’?” Stevens joked. “It’s all tied to God, man.”
Gabe’s stomached clinched. This sounded serious. And holier-than-thou.
He knew he wasn’t ready for that. But being informed couldn’t hurt. Not any more than he already was at the moment.