She lay in a dark, tiny room in a house the size of my master bathroom. She lay on a thin mattress on the floor surrounded by, well, nothing. The children had been sleeping at her side on the hard ground. As best I can tell and from all reports, she had not been off that mat in almost a year. The widow of her grandson had cared for her for months. There was no food in the house.
I knelt at her side and she took my hand and began a long interview which she had clearly planned. While Agnes translated, she asked me about my family, my lineage, "did I favor my father or my mother"? When all her questions were answered, she looked peaceful and satisfied. I asked her for her blessing about the adoption, and she said that we have it. I asked her to pray that we would have favor with the Ugandan courts, as we had not yet seen the judge. She answered "Do not fear. God has already spoken to me that the children are yours."
Then, we all gathered around her and prayed for her. We prayed that she would have no pain, that she would have peace and be with the Lord.
About two weeks later, the day we were leaving Uganda, we went again to see her. She was serene and did not seem emotional about the departure of the grandchildren. In fact, she just seemed tired. The children kissed her and we hurried to the car that was taking us to the airport.
Today I have learned that shortly after we left, she died.
How powerful is a love that can hold off death? Surely she should have died months ago. I always felt she was waiting for me to come, and now I know that she was. The transfer had been made, the exchange complete. Her love was so powerful that she could stave off death until she knew the children were safely in the arms of another.
Surely only God can give us a love this great. I pray she is seated at the throne of love. I pray I can live up to a love that mighty.