Stuck in Entebbe (Sunday afternoon): Trip #7

I guess I didn’t study hard enough as I find myself alone in a hotel, having failed my COVID test, not far from the airport that still seems very far away in Entebbe. Not far as I can hear and see the take off and landings, but far away in that it may be seven days before I’m allowed to board a plane home to Carol and my beloved FCC and Hudson. 

Let me tell you how I found out. Friday morning we taught our last session and had a vehicle waiting for us for the seven hour ride across country to Entebbe. The first order of business was to go to a walk-in testing center and get a two-hour test. We would hopefully receive the results with an hour or so to spare to get to the airport for our 10:30 flight to Amsterdam, then to Boston (a four-hour layover would give me a few hours with middle son Nate as he lives there) before landing at MSP Saturday evening, which obviously has already passed.

When we got to the testing center Josh, Stu, Bo (a missionary kid traveling with us to the US to play baseball) and I waited in line about 20 minutes. Allen (Bo’s dad and our handler for the day) got our information and passports to the powers that be. No sooner did the info get secured and the four of us were quickly taken to a room, tested, and sent on our way. We went to a local guest house where we had dinner and awaited the results. We had already decided that if anyone did not pass, the others would go ahead to the states. About 7:15 Allen went down to the office to print the results. 

When he came back the look on his face told us something was wrong. He took his phone and set it in front of me. My test results had a big red stamp on it that read POSITIVE, which was not positive at all. The other three were fine and saddened for me. A wave of disappointment came over me and I (I believe it was the Holy Spirit) remembered a truth we taught our trainees in our very first session nearly three years ago: that God is sovereign, wise and good. It was time to me to believe it and I did (which, by the way, is not always true. I can be afflicted with unbelief like anyone else. I said goodbye to my friends (i.e. close contacts) and watched them drive to the airport. 

Allen, his wife Mallory, and I were left at the guest house. They had already booked a room for the night, and they got a room for me. 

On Saturday morning, we had a long discussion about what to do. I could drive the seven hours back with them and stay at the guest house on the mission compound we had left behind the day before. Or I could find a hotel room in Entebbe and hole up here for the week required by the Ugandan government. My inclination was to go back (by the way, at this point I was feeling fairly normal) to Gulu. The place we stayed at was now inhabited by a man who was teaching for four days and then was off to Zanzibar (I’m not sure where that is either!). I thought to stay in the same place as him would put him at risk. That, plus avoiding two more seven-hour drives and no AC in 100 degree heat, I decided to stay in Entebbe.

In the next post, I will tell (and show) that I made a really great decision. It is 5:30 in the afternoon (0830 Hudson time) and in a ½ hour I will be streaming our worship service. I look forward to singing and worshipping with you. All my love from Entebbe!

Larry Szyman

Pastor for Missional Life