Day 3~
Some of the most powerful ministry doesn’t happen in grand buildings, organized events, or even service projects. It happens in kitchens, courtyards, and tiny shops tucked along red dirt roads. On this day, our team had the privilege of stepping into the daily lives of the women Heshima serves. I left their homes with more than just memories; I left carrying their stories—their resilience, their dreams, and their faith that refuses to waver—home with me.
Through Their Doors
We began with breakfast—a familiar spread of eggs and toast—before gathering our bags for the day. Inside were simple things—food and a few essentials—carefully packed to share with each woman we would visit. They weren’t fancy or elaborate, but each item carried a purpose and a message—that we saw them, valued them, and wanted to show a small gesture of care. As we picked up the bags, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and anticipation for the stories, smiles, and moments we would encounter along the way.
As we loaded the van, I thought about what the day would bring. The bags weren’t what mattered most—they were just little ways to help the women in their daily lives. What made the day truly special was being invited into their homes, seeing their workspaces, and sharing in a part of their lives. Even in a small way, it felt meaningful to be part of that, to witness them caring for their families, chasing their dreams, and living out the life God has for them. Their warmth, joy, and resilience filled every corner of their world, and it was a privilege to be there with them.
Walking the Red Dirt Roads
We spent the day visiting eight amazing women—four in the morning and four in the afternoon—and each stop felt like its own little world, a glimpse into everyday life in Uganda.
The van bounced along narrow, winding paths until we had to get out and walk. The red dirt stretched beneath our feet, stubbornly staining our shoes no matter how carefully we stepped. Children peeked around corners and fences, waving shyly and calling out “mzungu!” (a local word for a foreigner or visitor—typically white people) with big smiles. Goats grazed lazily nearby, and chickens scurried across the paths. Tall jackfruit trees hung heavy with fruit overhead, their shade a small relief from the afternoon sun.
At each home or workspace, we sat with the women, asked about their lives, listened to their stories, and prayed over them before we left. Some shared about their families, others about their faith or the dreams they were still holding onto. Every story was different, yet all carried the same thread of courage and hope. Everywhere we looked, God’s fingerprints were there—in the rich soil that grows food, in the laughter of children, and in the way the women welcomed us with open hearts. Walking alongside them, seeing their lives up close, it felt like we weren’t just visiting—we were truly part of their day, and it was unforgettable.
A Story of Dreams and Hope
Of all the stories I heard that day, one stayed with me the most. The day before, during testimony time with the other women, she shared her story about her dreams of becoming a journalist but was forced to step away from it—and Misty spoke up for me, knowing I shared the same hopes and dreams of being a journalist like this woman. She is a Heshima student and had once dreamed the same dream as me. Family conflict forced her to leave school, and in her hurt, she ran away. Months later, she returned home, and her life took a new shape—one filled with both hardship and grace.
Now, she finds joy in the simple things: cleaning her home and reading her Bible. Later, she remembered my own dream and reached for my hand, saying, “Good luck in your studies.” It was such a small sentence, but it meant so much to me. In a village far from home, a Heshima student who had once dreamed the same dream offered me encouragement, reminding me that God sees the desires of our hearts and confirms them in the most unexpected places.
Lunch & Little Reminders
We stopped for lunch at a small café tucked inside a mini-mall-like store. The smells of fresh food and spices filled the air, and I couldn’t resist trying a “rolex” (a chapati rolled with eggs and veggies) along with some samosas—flaky pastries stuffed with spiced meat. Eating in Uganda makes you slow down and really enjoy every bite and every moment. Honestly, the food is just so amazing!
As soon as we stepped back outside, the sky opened up, and rain poured down in sheets. At one woman’s shop, we quickly huddled inside, the tin roof rattling with thunder above us. She shared her story while we listened, and I found myself thinking about all the storms she had weathered in her life—not just literal ones, but the hardships, challenges, and setbacks that life had thrown her way. And yet, here she was: smiling, welcoming strangers into her small space, offering what little she had with joy and generosity. It was such a simple moment, but a reminder that strength, grace, and hope often show up in quiet, unanticipated ways.
An Evening at Cafe Javas
By evening, we were tired but full—full of stories, emotions, and God’s presence. We ended at Café Javas, one of our favorite spots. I ordered chicken minestrone soup and, of course, a peanut butter milkshake. There’s something comforting about having the familiar alongside the unfamiliar—American-style dishes paired with the stories we’d just gathered in Ugandan homes.
As I sipped my milkshake, I thought again of the Heshima student who had wished me luck in my studies. She could have been jealous—I had opportunities she didn’t, and her own path had been so hard—but instead, she chose to be kind, encouraging, and uplifting. Moments like that don’t happen often, and it felt really beautiful and real. God reminded me that no dream He plants is ever wasted. Even when life doesn’t go the way we expect, He is still at work, weaving stories of redemption. God has a different purpose and plan for each of our lives, and each and every one of those plans is good. Her example reflected Romans 12:10, which reminds us to “be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.” In that simple act of encouragement, she honored God by choosing love over bitterness, putting my hopes above any resentment she might have felt, and showing the kind of grace we are all called to extend to others.
Closing Reflections
That night, as we drove back under the glow of Kampala’s streetlights, I reflected on how God shows up in hidden places. He was in every laugh of a child chasing after us, in the red dirt beneath our feet, in the gentle words of the women, and in the storm pounding on a tin roof. The women with Heshima were truly an inspiration—they reminded me to take joy in others’ achievements, to celebrate their courage and perseverance, and to see God’s hand at work in their lives.
What I learned that day was simple, yet profound: ministry isn’t just about what we bring. It’s about being present, listening, and bearing witness to the ways God is already at work in people’s lives.
💬 Have questions about daily life in Uganda or visiting homes through Heshima? Drop them in the comments—I’d love to share more!
🌿 About Heshima Ministries
Heshima Ministries serves underprivileged women in Uganda by teaching them practical skills like tailoring, hairdressing, and small business management. But more than that, they offer dignity, hope, and the truth of God’s love. “Heshima” means worth in Swahili, and that’s exactly what they pour into each woman who walks through their doors: a reminder that they are valued, chosen, and worthy in Christ.
Click here to learn more about Heshima Ministries:
Her Pen, His Purpose 
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