My Story...and why it matters

A long while ago, I learned of the anti-gay marriage bill being considered in the Ugandan parliament.  It actually wrecked me.  Being a liberal, lesbian, urban-dwelling, woman social worker in the third largest city in the United States (Chicago, for those of you who didn't know!) I'm usually pretty nonplussed about being OUTRAGEOUSLY opinionated and advocating for the rights of myself and others who are similarly marginalized and oppressed.  When I found out about this bill (see this recent article in the Huffington Post and/or google "Uganda Anti-Gay Marriage Bill"), I literally was speechless.  I barely, if ever talked about it, and felt generally hopeless about the situation.  When I fell in love with the country of Uganda, I started to build my life around the idea of being able to work, learn, live, and love there.  I eventually did just that for a summer in my undergraduate college life, and felt equally nonplussed about continuing my exploration of my sexuality there.  While there, I came to learn about the vast danger with this openness.  As a British colonized culture heavily influenced by the American Evangelical movement, they took these pastors doctrines as universal truths, and have since become what I see as the ultimate experimental ground (and thus highly praised in the evangelical church) for their beliefs.  I had no clue of this when I went there.  I thought I'd share my coming out story here after reading this article because I still miss the freedom and adventure of Uganda, but now I know I will not be able to safely go back there without massive structural changes.   Fair warning...this is a long post and I'm really sorry but I'm terrible at editing because (as stated earlier) I tend to feel like I have a lot to say!

Myself (right) and S (left) in Uganda, Summer 2009

*****

It was the summer after my freshman year of college.  I had come out to myself the semester earlier, after falling in love with one of my close friends.  I attended a Christian college in the Midwest known for it's non-acceptance of LGBTQ people, and I had bought into it while attending a small group Bible study that only furthered this non-acceptance in myself.  I told myself that I would never tell anyone about my feelings for women, and I would force myself to date men.  To please God, and my family.  I even promised I wouldn't write it in my journal.  That way, if I died (by whatever means), no one would ever know.  I had always wanted to go to Uganda, or more specifically, since I saw the documentary Invisible Children in my sophomore year of high school.  It became clear (to me) that the best time for me to go and fulfill that dream, was now.  So I went.  I raised the money all on my own, found an organization to volunteer with, and I went.  I remember my best friend (at the time, no longer) advised me to go "...and not think about boys.  Christian women go into the mission field all the time searching for a husband, go for yourself, and God."  I nodded and agreed, that would be easy.  But I also decided to try to forget about what I had learned about my feelings for women as well, and just focus on myself, what I was doing, and God.  

I arrived in Uganda in June of 2009.  For a month, I kept my pact with my friend, and myself.  I remember at the one month mark saying to myself, "wow, I haven't even thought about any of that shit!"  I absorbed myself into the culture (as much as I could) and fell in love with the country and friends I made there.  

Then, right at the one month mark, trouble came to Africa in the form of a woman: S.  One of the American volunteers who had been there starting in May told me that she had invited a friend of hers from college to come because she was a videographer and the organization wanted her to create promotional videos for the organization's website.  I paid no mind to this at the time, and just nodded and said I was excited to meet her.  She arrived on the day that the girl I had become closest with had left - so I truly didn't really pay much attention to her.  And, I learned, that she didn't pay much attention to me either.  At the time, my hair was plaited with an African weave in little braided dreadlocks and a hoop nose ring adorned my freckled nose, and she wasn't looking for love either.  This was a job for her.  

At first, I really disliked her.  I hadn't planned on going on safari while I was there, because I didn't raise enough money.  However, my mom offered to pay for it at the last minute, because I was in Africa, and when was that going to happen again?  So, I signed up to go with a group of people I had really connected with and everything seemed to work out fine.  Then I found out that the organization wanted S to go on safari too, to make a video, but there were too many people in the first group.  Because I was one of the last people to sign up for that weekend, they told me I would be going the next week, in the group with S, and none of my friends.  I made plans to room with one of the other girls so I could stay away from S, who I was very upset with!  

A few days before we were supposed to leave for safari, we were invited to be bridesmaids in one of the Ugandan women's introduction ceremonies.  (Basically an engagement party, but it is a MUCH bigger and more traditional ceremony than the wedding).  Per tradition: we were not allowed to have our hair in a weave.  So, my dreads had to come out.  I spent the night before with the whole house pulling fake hair out of my head and sleeping on my 80's rockstar style hair: crimped, frizzy, and greasy.  The next morning, I washed my hair for the first time in 4 and a half weeks and used a hairdryer and straightener.  S tells me this was when she really noticed me, and decided she wanted to pursue me.  Apparently it was one of those Megan Fox moments, where I walked out of the bathroom a totally different woman, flipping my hair back and forth wrapped in my towel, with the sunrise behind my head.  All of a sudden, S was at my hip the whole day.  Helping me with my hair, painting my toes, I helped her with her makeup.  I remember the way she looked at me made me want to know her better, and made me want to be around her all day long.  I decided to give her another chance too.

Throughout the ceremony, I felt her eyes adoring me, and I felt a familiar feeling rising in my gut, I desperately wanted more time with her, alone.  In the car ride home, she rested her head on my shoulder and I whispered in her ear, "do you want to share a room on safari with me?"  Yes, I totally ditched my friend.  I couldn't help it!  She nodded and smiled, and went back to resting on my shoulder.  

The weekend of safari was one of the most magical I've ever had.  (In efforts to make that sound less corny, it was magical for more reasons than just S!)  We spent the days sitting in the warm sun on the roof of safari vans roaming through the African plains, and the nights in an authentic African hut, our beds pushed together and our mosquito nets tied to drape over both of our beds.  She took the video like she was expected, but all the time with me by her side taking photos with my fancy camera.  I told her it was nice to have someone to hang back with as we did our art forms.  She told me she appreciated my help, and ended up putting me in some of her shots.  Then at night, we stayed up all night laughing and talking.  She told me everything, even that she was gay and had dated women before.  I told her that I understood, I had wondered some of the same things myself.  

After that weekend, we were inseparable.  Everyone knew that where one of us was, the other was too.  I moved into her dorm room, and chose to sleep in the bed under hers immediately when we came back.  At night, she would sneak down the bunk-bed ladder and cuddle with me under my green mosquito net.  One night, she kissed me on the cheek, and it sent shivers up my spine.  I kissed her back on the neck.  After a few weeks, a few people started being suspicious that our friendship was just "too close."  One even made a comment, "If you two were a lesbian couple, Emily would be the feminine lipstick one, and S would be the more masculine one."  We laughed half-heartedly, worried about being found out, even though we hadn't even talked about it yet.  

Finally, one night, I told S that I had wanted to sleep outside on the front porch since I got there, but hadn't been able to yet.  I told her I didn't want to do it alone.  She told me she would do it with me, she just wanted to be with me.  We put our pillows and blankets on the mattress on the porch outside and waited until everyone was asleep to go out there.  We watched the sunset over Kampala, and then I nuzzled my head into her collarbone.  She kissed my forehead and I reached my hands under her shirt, caressing her body underneath.  After a few moments of this, she stopped me, "We have to talk about this...do you have feelings for me?"  I was terrified of all the things I was feeling, so I broke down and cried while having a panic attack.  I told her I did, but I wasn't sure if it was ok for me to have those feelings.  She just hugged me closer, "I know."  I woke up and told her that I didn't believe it was ok for me to have those feelings, and she was heartbroken.  We continued to be inseparable, and doing the same things as before, because even though I didn't think it was ok for me to have those feelings - I did, and I couldn't help myself.  Neither could she.  

When I left a month later, she came to send me off at the airport.  We cried and looked at each other knowingly.  I told her we needed to talk once she got back to the States, she nodded.  After a month of skyping between Michigan and Africa, Michigan and Wisconsin, she came to visit me at my college.  There was so much left unsaid, but all those feelings came rushing back again.  The first night she slept in my lofted twin bed, there was so much tension, the air was full of it.  She held me as close as humanly possible, and I let myself fall into her.  Then, she kissed me, for real this time.  I thought to myself, now I understand.  This is what love feels like.  I also came to the realization of just how happy I was.  I had a clarifying moment spiritually soon after, I knew God was rejoicing at my happiness, and at the great relationship S and I had that was always supportive of the other.  It was going to be ok.  

After that, we continued dating long-distance.  I started slowly coming out to friends at school, many of whom are no longer my friends because of it.  I joined an underground gay support group and started meeting other people at my college who were like me, and who I could talk to about S.  S visited me, and I visited her all throughout the  year.  She even moved to my college town for a short while because she needed a way to get out of her hometown. She then got a job in the Chicagoland area, and that was when our long-distance relationship truly stabilized.  She was establishing herself in Chicago, finally being open about her sexuality with her new friends in her new city, and I was doing the same in my small-town college.  In August, we will have been dating long-distance for three long (and beautiful) years.  But this August will be different.  In May I will graduate with my Bachelors degree in Social Work.  A few weeks ago, I got my acceptance letter from the University of Chicago's Jane Addams College of Social Work for the Masters in Social Work program.  I sent in my "Intent to Enroll" letter and deposit immediately.  We've started looking for apartments in the neighborhoods we love in North Chicago, and she's started collecting furniture. In August, we will finally be together, in the same city, the same home, and sharing our lives like we've wanted to for three long years.  I'm coming home.

*The story that I've written above was submitted to What Wegan Did Next's "Love Stories" section, but has yet to be published there!  So, if you follow them and they post it in the future and it's word for word...now you know why.

My kids. All I can think about is my kids.

I want to hold them again.

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.]

SAFARI!

Well, to put it briefly, safari was absolutely amazing.  It was exactly what I needed.

There was a group of 9 of us (including the driver) who went this weekend, all of which (except for maybe one or two) I haven’t had the chance, or taken the opportunity, to get to know very well.  So I was definitely nervous, but also excited at the same time because I could tell that this experience would really bring us closer, even if only a little bit.  It ended up being a lot more than that, and I made a friend who I hope, and pray, will be there forever.  I’ll explain more about that later though. 

We left early in the morning on Sunday and drove the absolutely GORGEOUS 6-hour drive to Murchison Falls National Park.  Seriously, the drive itself was incredible.  The scenery and the jokes we shared just really relaxed me right away.  It felt like such a luxurious vacation.  (Thanks Mom!)  We stopped in Masindi, a small village town, for lunch, and it was so nice to have some recognizable food that I would honestly want in the States.  A real cheeseburger and french fries.  Seriously, every time I leave the country, this is what I crave, and it was amazing to have that after a month of being here without it.  We then continued on to the final two hours of our drive, and started heading into the park.  On our way to the hotel, we were following a car and we watched him swerve off the incredibly bumpy dirt road, hit a ditch, start to flip causing all four-wheels to leave the ground, before smashing into a tree.  I didn’t see it happening, I just saw the car smashed around the tree after it happened, but nonetheless, it was definitely scary and a huge reminder that every minute we have here is a gift.  Luckily, the driver was the only one in the car, and he was completely fine, just a little shaken. 

Before we went to the hotel, we arrived at the point where we were going to hike down to see Murchison Falls.  We got out and began hiking uphill first, to be able to see the falls from the top of a cliff.  The view was incredible.  I had a very familiar feeling in this very unfamiliar place.  I felt the same way I felt when a few good friends and I went to the Bowl during Spring Semester and ate dinner while watching the sunset.  Total peace.  I don’t know that I can completely explain it, but I was completely at peace.  The verse and song that ran through my head the entire day, and in fact, the entire weekend was John 3:8, and the song “Wherever the Wind Blows” by Pillar.

 “The wind blows wherever it pleases.  You hear it’s sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.  So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” 

Every time I would start to get anxious, I would simply close my eyes and listen to the sound of the breeze.  I would feel the goose bumps rising on my arms, I felt enveloped in the wind, a part of it, and as the wind passed over me, my anxiety left with it. 

We took a bunch of pictures at the top of this cliff, and it was really fun because the girl I have made friends with is just as big of a photo geek as I am, probably bigger, so she helped me out a lot.  Then we took a hike down the cliff to the bottom of the River Nile so we could get some more shots of the falls.  It was really cool to just sit on a rock in the middle of the Nile, looking in awe at His incredible Creation.  I am so blessed that I got to do that.  We then took the terrible trek back up the cliff, which nearly took my breath away, and not in the way that the beauty of the falls did.  I got to follow my friend around while she did some video and in doing that I got some pretty cool shots myself.  It was really fun to finally have someone who I could lag behind the group with in order to get a perfect shot. 

We left soon after and checked into the hotel, and it seriously looked like a honeymoon spot.  We had one “hut” per two people that had two beds and a shelf set and mirror inside, and a bathhouse outside.  My friend and I stayed in hut #2, otherwise called “Simba.”  It was so much fun!   On the drive up, this girl and I discussed how we were both really big cuddlers, which pretty much sealed the deal on our friendship for me.  That was when we decided to room together, which was a really great decision because I got to hear a really cool testimony and gain an amazing friend who has now become probably one of the closest friends I have made here.   

The next day we woke up really early for breakfast and headed for the ferry that would take us across the Nile for the game ride, meaning the ride where we would see all the animals.  Once we got across the river, we all piled into the van after popping the roof up so that we could all sit on the roof in order to be able to see everything around us a lot better.  This in itself made my weekend.  I got to sit on the top of a safari van, while driving through the African grasslands, with a view of the Nile and various African animals in their natural habitat.  Excuse me if this whole post is completely cheesy, but it was absolutely amazing.  Again, the wind against my face, pushing my hair behind my ears, the stillness of the scenery, the feeling of my bare feet folded underneath my legs on top of the safari van, the absolute freedom as I lifted my head and hands to the sky while driving down the dirt road through the reservation, was extremely exhilarating and peaceful at the same time.  Again, my adventurous spirit soars. 

We saw everything from water buffalos, to giraffes, hippos, crocodiles, elephants, birds, antelopes, warthogs, and gazelles.  It was amazing.  We then boarded another boat that took us down the Nile near the falls, which was where we saw the hippos, and I took some really great pictures of the Nile.  We went back to the hotel and took a swim in the pool, yes the pool, it wasn’t anything like an American pool, but it felt luxurious despite the horseflies nested in the jets that were above the water level because of the leak in the bottom of the pool.  Our last day we just drove home, stopping for a decent lunch once again, and returned to the house. 

This weekend was everything I needed.  The Lord provided me with a weekend devoted to drawing closer to Him.  I honestly felt refreshed and renewed, and coming back to the house was exciting because I was really eager to get back into our ministry. 

“The wind blows wherever it pleases.  You hear it’s sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.  So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”