Call to Hope in Uganda

Serving in Uganda has been one of the most stretching and sanctifying experiences of my life. As I travel the dusty paths between villages, sit beneath shade trees with women of all ages, and open the Word of God with them, I’m constantly reminded how radically countercultural the Gospel is—especially when it comes to the worth and dignity of women.

I came here with a deep desire to share not only the saving grace of Jesus Christ, but also to teach what the Bible truly says about women—not through the lens of modern Women’s Liberation, but through the lens of God’s original design and His redemptive heart. And yet, the realities I’ve encountered are heavier than I imagined.

Many of the women I meet live in a quiet agony. With no income of their own and little access to education or resources, they are often trapped in violent or degrading relationships. Their lives are dictated by survival, and in many cases, they are treated more like property than people. They are told—both explicitly and implicitly—that this is just the way things are. That it is normal. That they have no other choice.

But this is not the message of the Bible.

Scripture paints a very different picture of womanhood. From the very beginning, God created woman in His image (Genesis 1:27). She was not an afterthought, nor a lesser being. She was crafted with purpose, with dignity, and to be a companion—not a commodity. Throughout Scripture, we see Jesus lifting women from shame, speaking to them with honor, and entrusting them with the message of resurrection (John 20:18). The apostle Paul speaks of the Church as the Bride of Christ—a metaphor that elevates womanhood to a place of love, respect, and sacred covenant (Ephesians 5:25-27).

God does not condone abuse. He does not overlook suffering. He sees every tear, every bruise, every silenced voice. And He calls His people to do the same.

But here is the tension: how do we speak of freedom to women who have no tangible way out? How do we call them beloved when the world calls them expendable? How do we present a biblical view of dignity without it being dismissed as “Western feminism” or cultural rebellion?

This is the crux of the challenge.

I don’t offer easy answers. Instead, I offer presence. I offer Scripture. I offer the small, faithful acts of love and advocacy that plant seeds—seeds that may one day grow into change. I teach that women are not the property of men, but beloved daughters of the King. I teach that submission in marriage does not mean tolerating violence. I teach that the Church is meant to be a refuge, not a prison. And I pray—oh, how I pray—that these truths will take root.

There are moments of hope. When a woman looks up from the pages of the Bible with tears in her eyes, realizing for the first time that she is seen by God. When a husband hears that loving his wife as Christ loves the Church means sacrifice, not control. When a young girl dares to dream of a life different than what she has known.

This work is slow. It is difficult. It is holy.

To those reading this who are in safer places: pray for us. Pray for the women of Uganda who are trapped in cycles of abuse and poverty. Pray for the hearts of men, for the courage of pastors, for the healing of families. And if you can, support organizations that help women gain economic independence, education, and safety. Empowering a woman financially can sometimes be the first step toward freedom in every other sense.

Jesus came to set the captives free—and that includes the women in Uganda’s forgotten villages. May we never lose sight of that calling.