Her Pen, His Purpose

Day 4~

Music has always been one of my favorite ways to worship the Lord. Whether I’m sitting at a piano, strumming along, or just singing in the car, it’s the way I most naturally give Him praise. There’s something about music that reaches places words alone can’t—it connects people, crosses cultures, and somehow unites hearts that have never met.

Psalm 100:1–2 says, “Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth! Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into His presence with singing!” Every time I worship through music, I’m reminded that we were created to sing unto the Lord—to use our voices as an offering of love back to the One who gave them to us.

But nothing—and I mean nothing—could have prepared me for the way worship in Uganda stirred my heart. That day, I realized in a brand-new way that God isn’t just the God of America or Uganda—He’s the God of the whole world. His name is being lifted up in every language, across every continent, and we get to be part of that same eternal song.

Market Mornings

The day began early, like most in Uganda—roosters crowing, the hum of the city waking up, and the smell of chapati and coffee filling the air. After breakfast and morning devotionals, our team set out for the market. I picked up items for family and friends, and a few little things for myself—taking home a physical piece of Uganda to hold onto.

The market was alive with color, sound, and motion. Vendors sat on blankets spread on the ground, their goods displayed all around them, with fabric draped overhead to provide shade from the sun. The boda bodas—motorbike taxis—raced past in every direction on the streets outside the marketplace, and crossing the street required complete focus and a little bit of courage. Everywhere I looked, there was rhythm, energy, and life. The streets themselves seemed to sing—a melody of movement and vibrancy.

Worship at Heshima

After the market, we arrived at Heshima. Following lunch with the staff, we gathered in the lobby for worship. David, one of the children’s ministry leaders, is one of the most talented people I know. From drums to piano to singing, his passion for God was evident in every note. Sitting in a circle while others played drums, David led us with soulful piano and voice, guiding everyone into praise. There was something magnetic about the way he played—the rhythm, the melody, and the energy pulled everyone in. You couldn’t help but lean in, listen, and participate.

Our group’s favorite song, Ntambiyrah Jehovah (“Jehovah Turns My Life Around”), became the soundtrack of our time in Uganda. David led a kind of call-and-response to that particular song: he would call out a line in Luganda, and we would echo it back, our voices blending together. Then, after singing the chorus in Luganda, we switched to English, and it was just as powerful. It didn’t matter the language, the instruments, or the setting—sometimes all you need is to lift your voice to the Lord. Make a joyful noise! The air itself seemed to vibrate with praise, and I felt the hearts of those around me lifted alongside my own.

Psalm 100:1–2 came to mind: “Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth! Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into His presence with singing!” It was a reminder that worship isn’t about perfection or presentation—it’s about presence and offering your heart. The joy and energy in that room were contagious. We clapped along, the group smiled broadly, and even those of us who sometimes struggle to sing with confidence found ourselves caught up in the rhythm, the voices, and the sheer love of God expressed through music.

Worship in that space was a bridge—between cultures, hearts, and experiences. It reminded me of Revelation 7:9, where John describes “a great multitude… from every nation, tribe, people, and language, standing before the throne.” Thousands of miles from home, we joined one song, lifting our voices together to the same Savior. And in that moment, it became so clear: worship doesn’t require a church building, fancy instruments, or a perfect voice—sometimes all it takes is a willing heart. Every note, every shout, every hand raised was part of a bigger song, one that spans nations, languages, and generations.

A Lesson in Leadership & Grace

After worship, Misty led a staff meeting, discussing new ideas, improvements, and hearing feedback from the Heshima team. It was inspiring to see their dedication—not just to the ministry, but to one another and to the children they serve. They brainstormed, listened, and encouraged each other, and their passion and humility reminded me of Romans 12:10: “Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.”

Even in the small, quiet moments—wishing me luck in my studies, sharing a story, offering encouragement—the staff showed me how grace can be lived out. They could have been tired or overwhelmed, yet they chose to lift each other up, celebrate one another’s achievements, and create an atmosphere of support and joy. Watching them interact, I realized that true leadership isn’t just about giving directions or making decisions; it’s about fostering a culture of care, respect, and encouragement. Moments like that don’t happen often, and they carry a quiet, deep beauty that lingers long after you leave the room.

Cafe Java Connections

After the meeting, we all headed to Café Javas, a different location closer to the city. The entire Heshima staff joined us for a shared meal, and the atmosphere was warm and vibrant. Laughter bounced across the tables as stories were exchanged, smiles were shared, and little jokes were passed between staff and mission team alike.

It was a moment to connect beyond work—celebrating life, achievements, and the community we were part of. Plates were passed, hands reached for food, and conversations flowed effortlessly, full of joy and genuine connection. Even amidst the busyness of their daily responsibilities, the staff took time to relax, laugh, and enjoy one another’s company.

Sitting there, I couldn’t help but notice how these simple moments—sharing a meal, swapping stories, enjoying the company of one another—can be just as meaningful as the work we do. It was a gift to experience their warmth, hospitality, and camaraderie, and it reminded me that ministry is as much about relationships as it is about service.

Evening Reflections

As we headed home, I couldn’t stop thinking about the day—the songs, the laughter, and the hearts we had encountered. The Heshima staff showed me what it means to serve with love and humility, to celebrate one another’s victories, and to find joy in the everyday moments of life.

God has a unique plan for each of us, and every path He sets before us is good. Even when life feels uncertain or doors close, He is still at work, shaping our stories, planting hope, and weaving redemption in ways we might never see at the moment.

💬 Have you ever experienced worship or connection in a place far from home? I’d love to hear your stories in the comments.

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🌿 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: