Countdown one week to Uganda, and in the holiday hustle and preparation bustle, it's kind of difficult to remember what' s important.
The first night I heard about Uganda I was outside in the night, up in the mountains where the stars actually show. Several young men told me and my friends their stories, stories of war and fear, of innocence lost and innocents lost. And one ended with the plea not to forget them. I had just seen Invisible Children, and I thought my eyes were wide open and would never close.
I can't count the times since then that I've paused in shame to realize I had forgotten Invisible Children and invisible chilren alike. I can't count the times I've failed to see the people around me, even family and friends and myself, as the beloved children of God that we are.
Kikulu means both "remember" and "it's important." For the moment, at least, I remember what's important. God loves. Crazy. And because of Him, I can love God and my neighbor wherever I am, and more importantly I want to, everywhere I am. That inclues here, even when I'm busy freaking out about going to Uganda. And that'll include in Uganda, even when I'm busy freaking out about being in Uganda.
Hopefully I'll be able to remember that and learn it even better.
After all, what's more important than that?