changing slowly...

I wish I could bottle up the feeling I get sitting in Dimnent Chapel listening to a particularly profound person saying some particularly profound things. I wish I could bottle up the butterflies that traveled from the pit of my stomach all the way up my throat as I saw the first "Welkom to Holland" sign as I entered the campus I love. I wish I could bottle up the feeling when I'm walking through campus and feel particularly blessed. I wish I could bottle up the energy I get from all the amazing people I have here. I wish I could bottle up that first hug when I see a friend on campus, that feeling that I'm home.

I think my home is in many places, or maybe my home is everywhere I make it to be. I'm not sure, but I do know that I have felt at home in some of the strangest and most different of places. But I am grateful and treasure each "home," knowing that I don't deserve to feel so blessed, but I do because I have a God who likes to spoil me.

Since being back on campus, it's true I miss Uganda so much. I think about it constantly, I hear things that remind me of it and wish there was someone in my company who would understand the giggle I mutter under my breath, I see their faces in my mind all the time, I touch my bracelets, remembering each set of hands that tied those on me and send a quick prayer for them up to Heaven. However, I am filled with joy at being back here. I have needed this place, and this is exactly where I need to be right now.

I could list all the things that have blessed me since being here, but I think I will just leave it at that. I am blessed to be here in this company, and in this community of believers.

p.s. One particular morning when I was missing Uganda, God provided me with a friend. An international student from Uganda. We are already good friends and have shared many stories, and we have plans to share more stories over chapatis and rolexes that he has offered to make me.

(Thank-you Lord, I love You.)

images.

For those of you who have been waiting for pictures, I tried to do a purely picture post, but to be honest I cannot choose only a select few. I have posted my favorites on facebook, and even they ended up being 6 albums of 200 pictures each, because there is so much that each picture says. Here is the link to my facebook albums, I will make them public so even those of you who aren't on facebook can see them. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. There's not many words to explain each picture, but I feel like they do an adequate job of explaining themselves.

album #1: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018710&id=1270470169

(life in Ntinda, Kampala, Uganda; Kyambogo College; Davemi Infant & Nursery School; Victory Primary School; Kyampisi; and Acholi Squatters.)

album #2: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018743&id=1270470169

(Nsambya Babies Home, Basketball Ministry at Victory City Church, adventures in Downtown Kampala, airport drop-off/last moments, and Sarah's Introduction Ceremony.)

album #3: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018760&id=1270470169

(Katalemwa Children's Hospital, Naguru Remand Home, Sanyu Babies Home, and Sarah's Introduction Ceremony.)

album #4: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018761&id=1270470169

(Acholi Squatters, Kids In Need Orphanage, Modern Infants Nursery & Primary School, Good Choice Infant & Primary School, Kyambogo College, Ndere Cultural Centre Traditional Dance Show, King Solomon Secondary School, Basketball Ministry at Bethany High School, School for the Deaf, Portraits of some Ugandans, Steph's Surprise Party, adventures in downtown Kampala & the craft market.)

album #5: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018763&id=1270470169

(Sarah's Introduction Ceremony, and Safari)

album #6: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018767&id=1270470169

(Gulu and Luweero Missions)

adjusting.

So I've been back in America for a little over a week now, and there is much that has hit me very hard, but at the same time there is a peace that I can only explain as His Presence.

Well, first of all, walking through the Detroit airport was incredibly scary, and I felt really weird as I watched the all-American families going about their days as if nothing had happened. When I was in Uganda, it felt as if there was no other world besides that place. Nothing else existed, and even if it did, it had stopped to watch and see the things I was seeing and feel the things I was feeling. But then I saw the poster families with their strollers and designer diaper bags, I saw girls in these teeny jean shorts spending how much money on a magazine? I wanted to slap the five-year-old who was throwing a temper tantrum because his dad wouldn't let him get the sucker he wanted. I also wanted to slap the old bitty on the plane who instead of asking politely if the person in her seat had the wrong seat, yelled at the stewardess, loud enough so the whole plane could hear her (it was a small plane) that someone was in her seat, as if she was just as mature as that little five-year-old. That was when I realized that for everyone else in the world, life went on. The people I was walking past, some would never know what I had seen, some will never even know that the things I've seen are real. That frustrated and saddened me, a lot.

However, I was very very blessed when I got to see my family at the airport, and on top of that one of my best friends from school Heidi was there. She had driven the three hours from her house to mine, and then took off a few days from work so she could be with me for a few days when I got home. I was floored. Something I have struggled with recently is the fact that in my life, I haven't had very many solid friends. Friends that I can count on to want the best for me, support me, who will love me regardless of what I say or do, and who will stay by my side for a long time. This was one of the reasons why it was so hard to leave my friends in Uganda, I didn't want them to just be another memory. But seeing Heidi at the airport, it's hard to describe how blessed I felt. I couldn't really hear because my ears hadn't popped yet, but apparently I screamed really loud, ran and gave her the biggest hug. In that hug, I simply looked heavenward and I could almost see Him just smiling at us saying, "This girl's here to stay, and she is a good friend to you. The others that I have gifted you with as well, and you know which ones have been given to you by Me, are here to stay too. They are my gift to you, enjoy them."

I said a quick prayer of thanks and began my story-telling.

In all, yes, I miss Uganda. I miss the way life is lived there. I love that lifestyle, and for some weird reason, I can honestly say that I know I will be back there someday. I don't know for how long, where, with who, or when but I can just tell that I will be back. I have to go back. I miss the people, I miss the culture, I miss my kids, oh man how I miss my kids. I have talked to people who are still in Uganda since I've been home, and there is one girl Riyanna, the 3-year-old neighbor kid, who I got very attached to. I would be outside in the compound and I would hear her yelling over the fence, "Emily, I want to come down and play!" I would let her down and we would just do the same thing over and over again, but she loved it. I loved that girl so much, I still love her so much. Apparently she has been saying my name now that I'm gone, and that just makes me want to board a plane tonight just to be able to hold her again and let her kiss my face. I miss my squatter kids, the place where my sponsor child Josephine lives, and all the times we would go over there and they would sing songs for us, praising God that we would take the time to visit them and love them.

At the same time, even though my heart desperately wants to be in all those places with all those kids, there is an unexplainable peace in my heart. I know those two months were exactly what I needed, and where I needed to be, and I know that going back to school in a few days and for the next 3 years is exactly what I'm supposed to do. They will always be in my heart, and hopefully I will be able to see them again, if not just to say that I remember them. But, for now, I am exactly where I need to be. I will be moving into school on the 25th and I could not be more excited. I now know that I have some amazing friends that I am eager to see, to listen to their stories, and tell them some of my own. I have some amazing professors that I am eager to have coffee with and discuss deep topics of life with. I am eager to start my classes, all of which (except for French) are classes for a Social Work major, and I am excited to see how I will like this and if this is what He has really planned out for me.

Their beautiful, joyful, faces and their incredible faith will always be in the back of my mind.

But today, today I need to pack for school and get ready for another year, another fresh start. Today I am taking the childlike faith that has inspired me for 2 months and practicing it. I am taking the hand of Jesus and letting Him take me on an adventure.

See you at school.

blessed.

-Tuesday, August 11^th: Well, this day was a very interesting day. It was definitely not ANYTHING like I expected it would be, but it was exactly what I needed.

Before I left for Uganda, God laid a few images on my heart that I have (foolishly) been searching to fulfill while I’ve been here. One of the first was that God laid it on my heart to help a girl who has been infected with AIDS get her Anti-Retroviral Drugs. On my second visit to Kyampisi Community Church, I helped out a friend with the Sunday school class, and one girl in particular named Madina clung to me the entire time. She would hold my hand, and sit in my lap, rest her head on my shoulder, but she refused to smile or respond to any of my attempts at Luganda. I asked one of the pastors what was wrong with her, if they could ask her what was going on. She didn’t really respond to them either, but they told me that she had been infected with AIDS and was ashamed. I immediately remembered the image God had laid on my heart, and eagerly awaited His provision in how I could help this little girl.

By my last week, it never came.

Instead of brushing it off, and letting God take care of it, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I scheduled a doctor’s appointment with an AIDS specialist and arranged for a Ugandan, a friend of mine, and I to go to Kyampisi and pick them up today, take them to Kampala for the doctor’s appointment, and take them back, hopefully with some ARVs. I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I was acting on God’s promptings. But truly, I was simply trying to make myself feel more fulfilled. This whole trip I’ve been frustrated by the fact that I feel like I haven’t truly done anything, even though now that I can look back on it, I know I did exactly what I was supposed to do. By taking this situation and following through with it, I felt like I could do it all on my own. That in itself should have sent up the red flag, the thought that I could do anything on my own.

We left for the village late, as is expected in Africa, though this was a bit of a harder situation. We had to take a taxi into Kampala, which took a lot longer than usual because the conductor kept stopping to pick up passengers. Then we took another taxi to Kyampisi, which took a long while to leave because we had to sit in the taxi park until the taxi was full. We arrived in Kyampisi ten minutes before our appointment was scheduled, so we had to call the doctor and reschedule for a time that was two hours later than expected, even getting my Ugandan friend to understand that we wouldn’t make the appointment in time was a task. I simply felt like everything was going wrong, and the entire car ride I was simply praying for God to take over, for God’s hand in this. But the peace I usually feel when God takes control never came. I now know it was because His hand was never in the plans I made, He never asked me to do anything, but He was going to teach me a lesson through it. I was on my own as far as this was concerned, and scared out of my wits. We met with Madina and her mom on the roadside, and she took us to see her house. I was floored when I saw her bedroom, one twin bed for the mother, and the concrete floor with some straw mats for the three children. I had decided to get them some mattresses and a mosquito net beforehand, and seeing this made me all the more determined to make that plan happen as well.

We met the kids, and I realized my first mistake: I hadn’t thought of the entire family. If one child has AIDS, it’s most likely that all of them plus the mother has AIDS. However, I simply could not afford to take them all, so I just stuck with the original plan, feeling slightly stupider and more naïve as we went to the main road to get a taxi.

We took a series of interesting rides into the city, where we were 3 hours late for our original appointment. Luckily, the doctor let us in and filled us in on the details after getting some information from the mother.

This was when we found out that no one in the family had ever been tested for HIV/AIDS, which changed a lot of things, and created a lot more complications. We had basically just informed them that the community they lived in assumed they had AIDS, possibly to spread rumors so as to “shun” them from the village, and possibly just by merely judging too quickly and with not very much knowledge. The doctor told us she would do a simple positive or negative test for both mother and daughter, and if they were negative we would be free to go. However, if they were positive, they would have to run another series of a lot more expensive tests than I was willing to pay for, they would have to attend HIV counseling sessions, then every 6 months after receiving their ARVs from the government they would have to come back for more testing which would cost them a lot more money than they could afford. So, if they were positive, out of sheer guilt, I would be basically forced into sponsoring this family, and paying their medical bills, an expense I could not afford. I was praying the entire time waiting for the results, and God is good as the results came back negative. We learned that the symptoms that the girl was showing were all from malnutrition. The doctor gave us some forms that proved that they were HIV negative, in order to quell any more spreading rumors, and sent us on our way. We dropped them off at the taxi park with enough money to get them home and left the city.

Right then, my stomach felt queasy. I could tell this was a lesson God was teaching me in a very harsh way, a little slap across the face if you will. I tried to ignore it the entire way home, but in my experience, when God wants to get your attention, He is very good at making you feel like crap until you face the facts. Steph and I were starving after our chaotic day, so we decided to walk down the street to get some rolexes (no, not the watch, it is my favorite Ugandan “snack” you can buy on the side of the road, basically a very greasy breakfast burrito.). Now, this girl is very good at being God’s little vessel for me when she needs to be. However, it was a bit harsher than usual because I truly believe that at that moment God really wanted to hit me upside the head, which she thoroughly delivered.

That night helped me release a lot of the tears and frustrations I’ve been bottling up this entire trip. It all started with thinking about the lessons God was trying to teach me through that day, and then continued on to the heartbreak I feel every single time I walk out of the house. A small rip each time I talk to someone who touches my heart, each time I hold an orphaned child, each time I witness maturity equal to my own, if not more, in a child half my age, all of these rips I have been trying to hold together with what little thread I can find, just so I can attempt to hold myself together. Tonight, they all tore open, and it’s about damn time. It felt so good to finally feel the hurt I have been holding inside of me the past two months and let it out, giving it all to God. I have some amazing friends who through my incessant, disgusting, ugly tears brought me tea and simply sat with me and talked with me when I was ready. They are a bigger blessing, even just for that night, than they will ever know.

So what did God teach me through all of this? For starters: humility, lots of it. He showed me that I am far too prideful in my spiritual maturity. That I have taken too much pride in the growth God has started in me this year and that I’ve forgotten that I still can’t effectively do anything for His Kingdom on my own. I still need Him and will always need Him. That God is not asking me to do anything. He has simply asked me to follow Him, to use my gifts to help those around me, and to just be with Him. This is something that God had started to teach me before I left for Uganda, but I kind of ignored because I wasn’t exactly sure how to just be with God, and that didn’t seem all too exciting. But I believe that this is exactly what He has called me to for the rest of my life. To just be with Him, wherever that may be. I can’t say I still understand it fully, because I'm not sure that any lesson is ever complete, but I am enjoying learning what this means right now, I am enjoying just being with God, recognizing His blessings, and living presently and fully in His Presence. [There it is again, gosh I love this.]

Lastly, that He will provide. It was very funny because after getting back, I simply could not find a good time to order the mattresses for Madina’s family and I was just praying for God’s provision. It was then that our director Sarah walked in the room saying that she had bought some mattresses for the sponsored kids and bought exactly 2 more than she needed, which was exactly the amount of mattresses I was going to buy for Madina’s family. I had to giggle at God’s snarky comment: “See Em? THIS is my provision…” He was teaching me that if He wants something done, He will get it done in whatever way He can. If He wants me to be a part of it, then He is going to throw it in my face so much that I simply can’t ignore it.

So no, this does not seem like the most pleasant of my days in Africa. But, don’t let the tears and chaos fool you, I think it was probably one of my favorite days this entire trip, a day I will always remember, a day I will always think of and smile and shake my head, because God is so good in so many ways.

flying back...

So I’m sitting here at the Amsterdam airport, realizing I haven’t updated in a very long while. The reason for this is because I have been wanting to spend this last week with the people and in the country I have fallen in love with as much as possible, without feeling like I have to update my blog. I have just wanted to enjoy life.

Also, I read my last post just to get my bearings on what all I would like to cover / the last thing I wrote about, and realized that I still have a lot to learn about letting go of my plans and that this might be a lesson I will be trying to learn my entire life.

Disclaimer: this post may not make much sense, and might be a little scattered because as of right now I can’t really figure out what’s going on in my head.

Anyways, this week we did our usual projects, and I went to most of them, all while having the most amazing time with the most amazing people. It has truly been a blessing to meet and be friends with all of them. There is something so special and unique about living with people who are all striving towards one purpose, who have one goal, one passion, one love: Christ. I feel like this is what makes summer camps so life-changing, mission trips so unique and inspiring. It is on these “getaways” that you don’t have to search very hard to find someone you really grow to absolutely love, someone you want to know and talk to about everything for the rest of your life, much less simply find someone you’re compatible with. The people who are living right beside you are the people you've been searching for your entire life, the people who's passions and dreams match your own and make you even more excited to carry on with life and fulfill these dreams, to live passionately. This is a feeling I already miss. I miss waking up and walking through the cockroach-infested kitchen, and while preparing my breakfast getting hugs from all my amazing friends and answering their questions about my night, positive they all genuinely would care if something had went wrong. I miss the beat of the African drums calling us all to worship before we humble ourselves in serving our God. I miss the feeling of shamelessness as we all moved and sang in whichever way the Spirit led, because we all felt that same tug on our hearts. I miss being at the projects and catching one of my teammates watching me with proud looks on their faces, or capturing my precious moments on their cameras, as I did the same to them. We really loved each other, and saw so much joy and love in the work we were doing that we couldn't help but be encouraging and supportive of one another.

This is automatically the first thing I missed as I walked out of the comfort of my beautiful, amazing, inspiring friend's arms and into the cold, westernized airport. This is the first thing I thought about as the tears fell from my face while reading the letters that they had wrote to me.

I'm about to board my next flight from Amsterdam to Chicago so this is the last thing I will leave you with. I will update about the best and worst day of my 2 months later, and probably a week after I have been back I will update with my thoughts on America, we'll see how that goes.

[Nkwagala Uganda and all that comes with it.]

I've never felt so honored.

In the morning I went to Nsambya Babies Home where we carried split logs from a pile behind the building up to a room behind the kitchen. It was definitely quite the task, but we all worked together really well. Plus, I needed some time to think over some things, and real manual labor was the perfect opportunity to do that. We played with the kids a little bit before we left to go back for lunch, and for some reason I was really tired and, like I mentioned earlier, had a lot to think about so I was content holding a sleeping baby and pretending like I couldn't play with the toddlers because of her. I'm not sure if that was selfish or not, but I really couldn't handle the crazy kids that day.

After lunch we had our planning meeting for the week. This was the start to my reality check that I was leaving. They began planning for Saturday, and asked me to help out with something they are doing that day, I had to decline because I would have already left. After the meeting one of the Ugandans came up to me and gave me a hug. He said, “I completely forgot you were leaving. You’ve been here so long, and you fit in here so well, that I just kind of assumed you would always be here.” This absolutely stunned me. This is something I have been questioning the entire time I have been here. Could I live here? Would this be a good fit for me? I was absolutely honored that a Ugandan had said this to me. I know someday I will be back. Being home, and seeing this life outside of Uganda, I still like my life and know that I am not in Uganda permanently right now for a reason. But I know that I was made to be there eventually, or at least that I was made to love being there.

I’ll go back someday, I know it.

westernization

This morning we all went to church at KPC Central (Kampala Pentecostal Church, now called Watoto Church.) This is a church founded by a husband and wife pastoral team from Canada, and I can’t quite decide if I liked it now that I’ve fallen in love with village churches. The worship was amazing, and reminded me of the Vineyard in Holland, a church I absolutely love. However, there were some points within the service that really struck a chord within me. I can’t pinpoint it exactly, but in talking to others who felt the same way, they were thinking it sounded like we were being arrogant westerners. However, this church has started babies homes and orphanages all over Uganda, which is amazing. The thing that really made me angry though, was when they played a video in the service telling everyone how many billion shillings they spent building a new church. It just boggles my mind that a church that sees and recognizes the dire need for orphanages and babies homes, & etc. would even dare to suggest spending that much money on another church, and then tell all the Ugandans in the congregation, many of which are financially suffering themselves, that they were using that money to build a church that looks like America. A church that has the lighting effects, that has very expensive video and entertainment equipment, making it more of a show and less of a worship service.

I was talking to a very wise friend about this, and she showed me that she believes, and I agree with her, that church is supposed to be an act of service. Just as much as going on a mission trip, as volunteering in the community, all the things that society has labeled under “service” and has thus limited our use of that sacred term. That the bottom line is we should be worshipping God in the best way possible, that we should sacrifice our time, money, hearts, and lives, to Christ in that time. In order to do this, do we really need all the flashy lights and shiny equipment? Are we really that selfish that in order to enjoy worshipping God we need to be visually entertained?

I don't know, I guess I just wished I would have gone to Kyampisi for my last church service, but I still had a nice devotion time in the house on Sunday and ended up spending some more time with the people I have grown to know and love as if we have known each other all of our lives.

getting lost in the city

Today was my last free day in Uganda.

Steph, Amy, and I left in the afternoon for my last trip to the city to get some gifts from the craft market and have a good Indian meal. This was quite interesting because we were meeting the Ugandan who was going to help us at the craft market, so we had to navigate ourselves to the city. We ran into one of the other Ugandan volunteers on our way to catch a taxi, and he told us where we should get off the taxi and how much it should cost. We thanked him and grabbed the first taxi that didn’t charge us about 600 shillings extra because we are white. When we got off at our stop, Steph began to lead because she knew the way. I was thinking of a different craft market, but knowing my directional skills, I simply trusted whoever decided to lead. However, Amy believed she knew where the other one was and that was the one Jayan was meeting us. We knew Amy’s directional skills around Uganda were probably as good as mine, but for some reason we let her lead the way. We ended up walking circles around Kampala. She was convinced there was a craft market underneath the mall, and we probably walked around the mall 6 times before finally deciding that we should have followed Steph. We called Jayan and asked us to meet us at the mall, and once she did, she took us on a taxi to the craft market we were headed to in the first place. Our trip took about 2 hours longer than necessary, however it makes for a pretty hilarious story. (I love you Amy!) At the craft market I got some last minute gifts, though it is always hard for me to shop there because everything is so cool and unique that it makes me want it all so I’m sure I’m going to regret not getting a few things, but oh well. We then went back to the mall, seriously, I probably could tell you my way around Kampala, or at least the space between this craft market and the mall like the back of my hand. We went to the Indian restaurant that I absolutely love and sat at this awesome table that was on a raised platform so when we were waiting for our food we could lay down and lounge, and then we sat cross-legged to eat. We sat there for a very long time, soaking in the goodness of a nice meal with boneless chicken (amazing!), surrounded by the best company anyone could ask for, and the interesting, inspiring, hilarious, heartbreaking, and humbling stories of life.

We went back to the house, satisfied with our Kampala adventure and the wonderful company, even though we all knew it would be my last.

so blessed.

I.  Am.  So.  Blessed.

Basically the past few days have just been filled with blessings, and I am now actually taking the time to notice them.  This living presently in His Presence thing is really working out well.  By not thinking about tomorrow, the next hour, the next five years, I can simply enjoy the blessings that He has absolutely lavished upon me in that moment.  It also allows me to practice a discipline of daily thanksgiving, something I thought was exhausting when He laid that on my heart a few months ago, but something that is now second nature.  How can Inot thank Him?

I have just simply had some amazing conversations lately in which I can only look to the heavens and laugh, all the while thinking, "thanks for that."  

Jimmie, the Tutsi man from Rwanda who has seen and experienced more hurt than I can imagine.  The fact that I got to hear his story, that he felt comfortable enough to share that much with me, makes me feel so incredibly privileged and encouraged.  He shared with me some interesting things about work I could do in Rwanda, and I know I will see him again someday.  Even the fact that people feel comfortable enough to share their testimonies with me is an absolute miracle.  

It's hard to put this feeling into words.  A feeling in which I am rejoicing for every moment that comes my way, my heart filled with joy.  A feeling of such joy coupled with a heartbreaking tear that gets larger as my departure nears.  My eyes fill with tears at the most RANDOM times, and yet there is still joy.  Again, words don't really cut it for this feeling, but I will update more as the plans I have made are finished.

All you have to do...

So I’ve decided I’m going to do things a little differently for the next few weeks with this blog.  I’m simply going to write what I feel is necessary.  Even writing about writing my blog feels a little silly, but I do feel it is necessary to explain.  I tend to fall into this bad habit of comparing myself to others, a lot.  So when I saw some friends of mine blogging every day, and after reading their detailed accounts of their days, I started to change my blogging to look more like theirs.  It was recently pointed out to me by a wise friend (you know who you are) that I should simply write what I feel like writing, however I feel like writing it.  So I am going to return to that.  Praise God?  Amen.

So here I am.  I am sitting here, at the kitchen table that wobbles every time I shift the weight of my hands, causing my computer to slide to an almost fatal crash.  I smell my hair, still soapy because a bucket of water sometimes just doesn’t get it all out.  I look at my feet, red from the dust even though I just washed them this morning.  I glance around at the few people who are left in this holy house, absolutely loving the company of each and every one of them.  I will miss each unique personality more than they know.  I eye the Ugandans, who are all hilarious, beautiful, wise, generous, and kind in their own right.  I sip the Mirinda Fruity out of the dirty, used, glass bottle, my new favorite soda, and wonder how I will ever survive without it at home.  My head bobbles like a doll as the crowded van, 18 people squished in a van that is supposed to hold 8, rolls over the speed bumps, potholes, and trash that cover the red dirt roads.  On our way to the projects, I look out the windows and watch the scenery, both beautiful and heartbreaking, pass before me, realizing that I won’t see this anywhere else.  I play like I’m 3 years old with Rihanna and Jeremiah, the neighborhood kids who I dread leaving, and take mental pictures of their beautiful smiles and hilarious jokes.  I hold Leticia and am in awe at her intelligence and beauty.  I laugh at Jovan, a 12-year-old boy who looks like an old man in an awkward teenage body with a laugh that tops any I’ve ever heard.  Again, I can’t bring myself to let go when I hold onto them.  I sit outside the compound and run to help another neighbor girl carry a jerry can filled with water up the hill to her house.  I go to the projects we’ve planned for the day and blink back the wet salty tears from the corners of my eyes as I watch these teenagers, children, worshipping with all their hearts, minds, bodies, and souls.  Their eyes are closed, their hands raised, many are holding each other’s hands.  It’s the only support and comfort they have. 

This is what I’m doing now.  Today.

I think I’m beginning to understand how to live presently.  Finally. 

There are many things that God is providing absolutely amazingly that I will be doing in my last few days, and I think I’ll tell them as they come.  However, today has been amazing, and difficult.  Today I have enjoyed Uganda, I have enjoyed my company, my brothers & sisters in Christ, the conversations I’ve had, the stories I’ve heard, the children I’ve held, all of it. 

Though my heart breaks for my friend at the Remand Home, Medina.  She just came to the Remand Home two weeks ago, and only opened up to me today.  Her story is absolutely heartbreaking, but near impossible to help.  She told me she did not commit any crime, and she was in the Remand Home for care and protection services.  After her mom died, she went to live with her Aunt and Step-dad who started to sell her for prostitution.  She escaped and went to the police, who sent her to live at the Remand Home until she could find a stable home.  All I can do is comfort her and be her friend, I wish I could have met her earlier so I could have more time with her. 

Here is a taste of my trip:

Lydia, shy and sweet with a passion to live a life deserving of her Jesus.  Josephine, completely crazy and kind at the same time.  Eunice, who acts as a mother of an entire slum, though she’s only in secondary school, and a Bible Study leader for all the kids in the neighborhood.  Stella, with a faith that exceeds most people I know.  Rachel, with her diva attitude and fat face that just cries to be kissed.  Jessica, with her love to be held and touched as she smiles with pure contentment.  Irene with a joy and love for seeing me that touches my heart, though I long for her to go home.  Medina with a story to cause a grown man to cry, but a craving to be hugged and loved on.  Teddy, the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen who simply sits in my arms and giggles at the faces I make at her.  Shalom, smart and humble with a heart that shares with all the other orphans, even though they usually take advantage of her.  Peter, also incredibly intelligent with a joy and faith that astounds me every time I see him, despite the fact that he is orphaned and does not live in a stable home. 

I feel there are so many more people I’ve missed who have touched my heart here, though I cannot think of them all. These kids, these personalities, these problems, these encouragements, these hearts, all of which are being mended by our God bit by bit.  In return, mine has been broken, but I would gladly and eagerly break my heart, in order to mend theirs.  It has finally hit me that these kids we play with at the Babies Homes don’t just come there to play with us, they live there because someone abandoned their beautiful faces.  It has hit me that the kids at the Remand Home have been there for two months, and will probably be there for a good portion of their lives if they are guilty, or even if they do not have the means to get back home.  The teenagers at Kids In Need are street children, they have no other place to call home, but they have no other options.  The kids at Katalemwa are in daily pain and will be staying in the hospital with sever disfigurements and deformities for a good chunk of life.  Even the kids at the schools are suffering trying to pay school fees, fight diseases, have enough money for a decent meal, and watch over their brothers and sisters. 

Again, I feel it.  Frustration that I can’t do anything to ease their physical and material suffering.  But this time, this feeling does not come alone, it is coupled with an incredible feeling, that of HOPE.  By being with them, they see a hope for themselves.  With prayer, our God can reach out to them and hold them.  He can show them the way that will fulfill their purposes.  He can do it.

The last thing I do each day, and the first thing I do each morning, is read a picture that a friend sent to me, which is now taped to the wall beside my bed:

All you have to do is SOMETHING.

I have done something.  I know it.

Birthday Bonanza!

Sorry for the last post, I was literally falling asleep on my computer because I was so tired, I will probably do another more in-depth post later because I do have a lot of things to say. 

However, this weekend was seriously a blast.  We found out that it was my friend Steph’s birthday on Sunday, so Amy (Ireland) and I decided to throw her a little surprise bash for her 22nd.  We planned on Wednesday to leave early in the morning on Saturday to go to an amusement park in downtown Kampala.  We made her some cards with poems in them to give her hints as to what we were doing, and she seriously had no idea what was going on, it was hilarious.  

On Saturday, we left around 10 a.m. for the park, it was called Didi’s World, and we got into the car and gave Steph the last note before we blindfolded her on the drive to the park.  We were told it was an amusement / water park, but we later found out it was mainly for kids 3-12 years of age, which was pretty funny.  We drove there while she was blindfolded and kept making her do silly things like duck for the policeman, wave to men walking on the streets, pretend she was being kidnapped, blow kisses to a taxi-van full of people, etc.  We finally got there, and kept her blindfold on through getting her wristband and walking through crowds of little kids all the way to the center of the park.  It was so fun to take her blindfold off and have the surprise be a success.  

We rode a few rides, which was hilarious with the Ugandans: Jayan, Diana, and Collin.  Even though the rides were nothing for us, this is all they’ve ever known.  So we went on one of those carnival rides which look like a big Viking ship and swing back and forth decently high, and one of the Ugandans was crying and couldn’t watch, while another had to run to the “loo” right afterwards because she thought she was going to be sick.  It was absolutely hilarious.  

Most awkward moment of the day though?  Swimming, definitely.  We wanted to go on the waterslide before we left the park, so we got into the pool, when I say pool though, it was about 15 x 10 meters and maybe 4.5 feet deep.  This in itself caused about 80 Ugandan children to flock to the side of the pool to watch the mzungus swimming.  It felt like we were a freak show.  So we went down the slide once, after another frustrating experience with the guy running the slide, and then just swam in the pool a little bit.  It was funny though because one of the MSTs who came with us got so frustrated at one kid who was staring at her, that she splashed her.  This gave us all the grand idea of doing cannonballs and jumps to splash the kids around us to make them leave, which didn’t really work, but it was fun while it lasted.  We finally started heading back at the end of a really fun day of simply acting like we were 5 years old.  

Then on Sunday we went to a church called Nakawa Baptist Church, which I later found out was the church that some Ugandans who randomly came and volunteered with us for a few days went to.  It was really fun because it was a children’s service, so they did a lot of stuff with the kids, which was absolutely hilarious.  However, it got really hot under the tin roof and I started to feel a little dizzy from a mix of dehydration and heat, but it was still a good time.  We then came back home and Steph had to do some video footage for the organization, which was nerve-wracking and exciting at the same time.  She is really talented.  

We ended the weekend and the birthday celebrations with some good old-fashioned ice cream, back-rubs, life talks, and sodas.  In all it was a pretty fantastic weekend. 

a typical week, for the most part.

Wednesday: went to Katalemwa Children's Hospital in the morning where my team was on kitchen and cleaning duty.  My friend Amy and I ended up pulling weeds from the sandbox in the play area and hoeing the sand so that it was soft for the kids to play in.  That was actually really fun because the work was very repetitive and helped to just relax my mind.  Plus, there was a really cute boy who was playing in the sand while we were pulling weeds and such who ended up following us around after we were finished.  Once we were done, we went into the classroom to see the kids and I got to pray for a few of them, which is always a blessing.  We then did a program at a secondary school, which to be honest, I can't really remember.

Thursday:  went to Nsambya Babies Home early in the morning, and this day I felt really sick.  I tried to help out and clean the area, but I just kept getting nauseated so I sat out and played with whatever kids came up to me.  I was grateful when one of the "mothers" placed a young 3 1/2 month old baby in my arms with a bottle.  It kept the other kids away from me, and I still got to hold the most beautiful baby I've ever seen.  Her name is Theresa, but everyone calls her Teddy.  She's got light skin, and big brown eyes, and a really soft, curly, afro.  She was just so content no matter what, and was unbelievably adorable.  I really love her a lot, and wish I could take her home with me.  We then went to the Remand Home after lunch, which is something I look forward to every week.  The worship was, as usual, amazing, and we ended up doing a skit about HIV/AIDS and then splitting up into groups to answer questions.  The questions were so difficult.  Many of them would ask why God wouldn't take away their AIDS if they became a Christian or why they had gotten it, and we simply couldn't answer most of them.  I did get to speak with Medina however, and I gave her a Bible.  I am hoping to get to speak with her more in the next couple weeks I have left.

Friday: went to Kids In Need orphanage and hung out with the kids after doing a quick program and some games.  There is one kid there named Peter who absolutely astounds me.  He is probably about 12 years old, but he has the most amazing heart.  He always dances to the worship songs with all he has, he loves to talk with us and his English is really good, I taught him Egyptian Ratscrew last week, and this week he pulled me aside and dealt me half a deck of cards, asking to play the game.  He really remembered very well, and beat me twice again.  It's hard to explain the character of this incredible young boy, especially since I'm incredibly tired right now, but I just always look forward to seeing him.