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.

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.  

A Real African Wedding.

Today was wedding day!  Or rather, it was introduction day. 

   

Oh my word, it was so fun and such a cool experience.  We got up decently early in the morning and got all done up for the day.  It was really fun.  I honestly looked good for the first time this trip I think.  We were such girls today, again, probably a first.  My hair was honestly straight, even in the humidity, and I got to do other people's hair and make-up, which was really fun.     We left around 11, which was about an hour later than we had planned, TIA.  (This. Is. Africa.)  Our car ride was about two hours long from Ntinda to Jinja.  Jinja is the city where the base of the Nile is, and it is where Sarah's family lives.     

The introduction ceremonies are always held at the bride's house and hosted by the groom’s family.  The bride’s family sits in two tents (depending on how many people attend) and the groom’s family gets the center tent.  The parents of both the bride and groom sat on some couches in the first row of the tent and seriously got star treatment.  They were served water, soda, and food, everything they wanted throughout the 4-hour ceremony.  We were all wearing a sheet of red, gold, and black striped fabric wrapped in the fashion such as a toga, but with a little extra flair to it.  We then got a black sash with silver fringe that they tied in a certain way around our waist, and we all wore big, black, chunky, African necklaces.  The boys wore trousers and a dress shirt underneath a full-length tunic that made them look like prophets from Jesus’ time, all with a suit jacket over top of it.  They were really hot.  

In order to enter the ceremony, we had to dance our way in, while in a straight line of girls and boys separated.  The girls all kneeled in straight lines on the mats, while the boys stood behind us.  We repeated a greeting speech in Luganda that was taught to us beforehand.  This gave many of the Ugandan attendees a good laugh.  We were then ushered to our seats in Sarah’s tent where we watched other people enter the ceremony.  Throughout the entire ceremony there were a bunch of little traditions that I couldn’t really understand because the entire service was read in Luganda.  However, from what I understood, the bride and groom sat in the tents “hiding” from each other.  The groom’s family asked one of the aunts of the bride about how they knew Sarah.  They were making jokes about her age and other things, which is apparently part of the tradition.  Then Sarah and her wedding party entered the ceremony and recited the greeting to the groom’s family.  However, the bride is not allowed to say one word throughout the ceremony, her family or wedding party always speak for her.  Then Sarah’s “maid of honor” had to take a rose in a basket and go through the groom’s tent and find him.  This tradition just proves to the family that Sarah’s close friends and family actually know who he is and that they have known him for a while.  Once she finds him, she pins the rose on his suit jacket and then he gets to sit with his parents and Sarah on a couch in the groom’s family’s tent.  

I didn’t understand many of the other things that happened, but we got to witness the giving of the dowry, which was actually hilarious.  The family got a sofa set amongst probably 50 baskets of various fruits and other gifts.  They were also given a cow and some livestock, but we didn’t get to see that.  Then the groom had some presents specifically for Sarah’s parents and for Sarah, and at the end of the ceremony, Sarah’s fiancé gave her the engagement ring.  Sarah cut the cake and we had cake and dinner before leaving her house.  

It was so interesting to see a little bit of their traditional culture, and actually be a part of it.  They were all so appreciative that we would take the time to come and abide by the cultural traditions.  When Sarah came back after a few days, she said that she really genuinely loved that we came and that we just made the ceremony for her and that we all looked really good.  

For once, we actually did.

preparations.

Well, just as a brief (well, as brief as I can get, and by brief I mean not brief at all) update on the events of the days that have passed:

In the morning on Thursday we went to Sanyu Babies Home and I got some really good shots of my friend Jenna doing her physical therapy on some of the little ones.  It was really fun for me to be able to do that for her and to see how much she appreciated them once I gave her the finished product.  I hope to get to do some more of that for other people, it's really good practice.  

In the afternoon we went to the Remand Home where I surprisingly saw Irene, though she had been released last week.  I have to admit, it was exciting seeing her, but at first I was a little frustrated because the justice system here is really really bad and I assumed they had messed up on her case because this has happened to many of the kids we have gotten close with there.  She told me that she had malaria and that the conditions at Remand were better for her health than at home.  Plus, she was getting free medication there so she decided to stay until she felt better.  I prayed with her quickly and she excitedly told me she had been reading the Bible I had brought for her last week.  She showed me the verses she liked, and I showed her some of my favorite verses, it was really fun to at least initiate a conversation like this with her that will hopefully be continued, or hopefully not because she won't be there.  I'm not sure.  I also got to give the Bible I bought to Susan who gratefully received it and immediately flipped it open.  We did our usual program there, and they were really crazy that time.  The people leading the songs couldn't even hear themselves because the kids were all jumping up and down screaming the songs at the top of their lungs, it was amazing.  Then Heath gave another amazing message that touched so many of the kids.  He asked them at the end of his sermon if they wanted to give their lives to Christ, and if so to ask an "uncle or auntie" (which is what they call elders, meaning us) to pray with them.  I had a girl approach me named Medina who could not speak a lick of English.  I had one of the Ugandans I have gotten close with translate for me, and she said she wanted me to pray for her.  I prayed as Collin translated and could see the sincerity of her promise in her face.  I asked Irene if she was new to the Remand Home and she said she had just been admitted on Wednesday.  I told Medina I would come back next week with a Luganda Bible, which I went into town today and purchased.  I am excited to talk with her more and learn her story.  I am also excited for next weekend because I can start going to Remand on Sundays just to visit with Irene, Susan, and Medina without having to pause during the "program."  

Speaking of Medina, when we went to Kyampisi Community Church, there was a girl also named Medina who I was really attached to, but who wouldn't speak a word to me.  (Excuse me if I've already written about her, I can't remember.)  I asked someone what was wrong, though I thought I remembered her from the week previous as a girl who had contracted HIV/AIDS from birth.  They told me that it was her who was infected and that she was infected from birth.  These kids don't get a lot of attention from their parents usually, because the parents think that they won't live very long.  So from a very early age, these kids are instilled with a hopelessness thats enough to break any spirit, big or small.  Before I came, the Lord laid it on my heart to pay for an infected kids ARVs, and I really feel it might be this girl.  I have asked one of the Ugandans who works with the kids to talk with the parents about how much they might cost and he is going to get back to me hopefully before I go on safari this Sunday.  

Today in the morning we went to Davemi Infant & Nursery School in the stone quarries by the King's palace.  That place is overwhelmingly beautiful, and I just love going there.  It's really crazy because it's at the top of one of the many huge hills in Kampala, so the drive up there in the safari van is adventurous to put it lightly.  But once you get there, you look out from the front "porch" (this is in quotes because, well, I can't really explain, it's more like a cliff I guess) and you can see for miles of the scenery of Kampala.  It's incredible.  However, it is amazing how much beauty there is in so many broken places.  Almost all the kids at this school have been infected with HIV/AIDS and their parents have as well.  So again, many of these kids have not much to hope for because of the thought process that has been instilled into their brains since they were diagnosed. 

 I got to see some girls I talked with last week, and they recognized me right away.  One of them was really why and every time I would look at her she would hide her face and giggle.  The other would do something similar, but I kept getting distracted because something about her was different from before.  I finally realized that she had some burn marks near her left eye that hadn't been there last week.  I tried to ask her what happened, but she only replied in Luganda and all the Ugandans were busy cooking porridge so I couldn't get her embarrassed whispers translated.  Oh how that frustrated me.  I really hope we go back at the beginning of next week so I can pull her aside right away with a Ugandan and we can talk about it.  I also noticed a little girl who just breaks my heart every week.  She has burn marks covering her entire face, and part of her skull is showing on the top of her head.  I'm not sure what is wrong with her, and I'm too afraid to ask her.  Not because of the disfigurement of her face, but because I know she struggles with it a lot, even as a 1st grader.  Each time I'm there I see someone picking on her, and she runs to a corner crying.  Today, it happened right in front of my face and it took all my energy not to cane the little girl who had teased her.  At the beginning of our "program" I went and sat next to her and whispered in her ear, "Peacey, oli mulungi.  Yesu akwagala nyo nyo nyo."  Which means, "Peacey, you are beautiful.  Jesus loves you so so so much."  She smiled and inched a little closer, never clinging to me like so many of the others do however.  I started rubbing her back a little bit when the little girl next to her spoke some quick, heated Luganda after slapping Peacey's arm.  Peacey stared at her for a few minutes, and I didn't even know what was going on, until Peacey collapsed with her head in her arms, sobbing.  My eyes filled with tears and I thank the Lord for calming my temper towards the other girl who had hurt this girl who was already hurting much more than I can ever understand.  I tried to console her, but Peacey being a pretty cold little 1st grader simply because of her circumstances, didn't allow my arms to wrap around her little waist, she wouldn't let me lift her to my lap, she just sat there next to me as I rubbed her back.  Every now and again she would look up at me and I would just whisper, "oli mulungi, nkwagala (you are beautiful, I love you)" over and over again, and she would put her face back into her arms.  I want to see her more before I leave, I want her to understand the Father's love for her so she can face her schoolmates with confidence and boldness.  I am praying for her now as well.

After going back and having a quick lunch me and my friend Jenna went to the post office to pick up the package my mother had sent me and to see if one of her packages had come or not.  We ended up getting back to the house late, so we went straight to Good Choice Primary School in Kireka on a boda-boda where we were supposed to do some general cleaning of the buildings.  This school is really fun because the kids are absolutely wild.  The van rolls into the compound and you immediately hear hundreds of kids clamoring up to the sides of the car banging on the windows, screaming for us to get out.  It is hard to get out without tripping and falling into a mob of little elementary kids.  However, it always grosses me out because the "floor" is just dirt, or rather mud mixed with poo.  Yes.  I said it.  The kids were out washing their shoes and simply throwing the dirty water onto the dirt/poo floor, just making it worse, and that's when it hit me that we were cleaning this.  That was an instant humility lesson.  We ended up having to further wet the floors of the classrooms so as to "control the dust" and then sweep all the stray papers and dirt out of the classrooms before mopping it all at the end.  We only got to sweeping before all of us were covered with the mud/poo and realized we were doing nothing so we went home.  

Upon arriving at the house, I began taking out my plaits.  I have to say, I already have post-partum depression over them.  I really loved them.  However, they were starting to look a little grown-in, and it's not really appropriate to wear your hair plaited at these introduction ceremonies if they're not looking absolutely perfect.  So for Sarah's sake, I took out my fake hair plaits.  I can't lie, my hair is so gross right now.  It is basically dreaded already because it is in clumps of grease from the braids, but at the same time it is all kinky from the braids.  I look like an 80's drag queen if we're going to be honest here.  Plus, I'm still covered in mud because I don't plan on showering until tomorrow so I'll be the most fresh for Sarah's intro, so my personal hygiene is just really great right now.  Another lesson in humility and not finding confidence in my looks: check.  I am definitely going to get them re-done before I come home because I loved them so much, but I am going to take the next 2-3 weeks to get my hair relaxed and clean before doing it again.  Plus I am trying to decide if I should just do the braids again, or what they call afro-kinky, which is basically just dreads made out of extensions so they can be taken out and used again.  Though it is much more expensive and I'm not sure how I feel about it, all the Ugandans and many of the MST's really want me to do it.  I guess we'll see.  

In other news, this will be my last post until Tuesday most likely unless I get time tomorrow, though I highly doubt it.  Tomorrow is Sarah's introduction ceremony and the girls spent tonight doing last minute touch ups to our outfits.  We ironed our "dresses," (A piece of red, yellow, black, and gold fabric that we wrap around ourselves and tie a black fabric belt around our waists with a black chunky African necklace and sandals) painted our nails, plucked eyebrows, the works.  I think this will be the best I've looked so far tomorrow.  We will be driving out to Jinja around 11 a.m. and we will get there around 1 p.m.  From there, the women in Sarah's tribe will help us tie our dresses and get them secured and we will practice the Lugandan greeting we must say to the in-laws before we enter the ceremony.  The men will be wearing full church attire (slacks and a button-up shirt) with a traditional African dress, though they all insist it looks more like a tunic from Jesus' time, and a suit jacket over it.  It will be hilarious, I simply can't wait.  Then on Sunday I leave for Safari until Tuesday evening!  I can't wait to use that time to just refresh and re-energize with the only One who can truly do this.  

In all, this weekend will be a good end to a rough week.

Purpose Post

Okay, here it is.  I was hoping this post was going to be decently profound, but I’m not sure it will be that way.  I am excited to post this nonetheless, but I hope all this introduction to it isn’t anticlimactic. 

So, before the Lord even laid this poem on my heart, I had been talking to a very wise woman about how I was frustrated that I didn't know my purpose here.  She simply said, "I don't think you're supposed to look for the revelation, I think you're just supposed to enjoy each day as a new experience."  Now that I see this, I know this is true.  As I have written about in earlier posts, God has taken me through many "deaths to the flesh" after I committed my life to Him last summer, simply as a way to transform me and grow me further in Him.  The "death" I had been going through before I left, and that I know this trip is serving to teach me, is the death to my plans.  

Any of you who truly know me, know that I am a planner.  I am just about as organized as you can get, and if it weren't for my planner and my iCal on my computer, I would probably get so stressed that I would take a day out of my routine to organize my life.  I have had the 10-year plan written up in my head as to how my life would run, but in the two months before school ended in Spring Semester up until the present, God has been ripping these plans to shreds one by one.  So this "death" is probably going to be one of my hardest.  

It also forces me to give up the control that I think I have over my life.  While I have been here, I literally have had no control over anything.  I can't control when we will go back to a certain school or project, I can't control if I have toast in the morning or not, I can't control what time we leave no matter what time we're supposed to leave, I can't control what we do, I can't control what happens tomorrow, I can't control the internet, I can't control the running water or the electricity, and these are just the basics.  Probably the worst thing I have experienced however, is the fact that I can't control the people I meet.  I can't handle their problems.  I can't fix them.  However, He is showing me that He can.  By showing these people Him, whether that means we tell them about Him directly, or simply show interest in them out of brotherly/sisterly love in Christ, He will reveal themselves to them, and He will help them.  I just may not see it.   

Now, simply because I have written this down, doesn't mean I fully grasp it.  Many of these things still frustrate me, and I know His work is not done yet.  However, He has given me another month to work through that with me.

I was going to wait to post this next part until the end of the week, but this little teeny message from my Jesus is what has been pushing me through my ministry the past three days.  I am so excited about it even now, that I simply cannot wait any longer.  I guess the way I am going to do this is that I will type it up now, and explain it as best I can, though I would like for it to speak for itself for the most part.  I hope you enjoy it, and don’t find it too corny. 

He loves them so much.

His Heart yearns to be beside them all day long.

Yet He can’t.

We are too broken.

Too far away.

His arms stretch from the Heavens,

Still they do not reach.

His broken Heart beats.

It pounds furiously in His chest.

Longing to hold His sons and daughters safely in His arms.

He sends His Son.

This is the only way to ease His broken Heart.

Yet the compromise is bittersweet.

He sends The One to save the many, from the one who destroys them all.

His Son lives on.

His Son lives in Me.

He breathes in Me.

He Loves in Me.

By sending me here,

By sending me to them,

He gets to be here as well.

He gets to be here, with them.

I bridge the gap.

Through Me, He feels the smooth, dark skin of His children.

Through Me, He kisses their cheeks.

Through Me, He tickles their bloated bellies.

Through Me, He whispers His Perfect Love in their ears.

He rejoices at their smiles, and contented giggles.

He Loves them, through Me.

I am here to bridge the gap,

The gap that keeps Him from them.

Now that I have been sent, He holds them once again.

There is no glory for His Vessel.

Though a Vessel never asks for glory,

She only asks to be used.

He uses Me, to Love them.

This is why I am here.  I am not here so that I can show everyone how cute I look holding an African baby.  I am not here to prove to people how great of a humanitarian I am because I went and helped out in Africa.  I am not here to be able to tell people that I led "x" amount of people to Christ.  I am not here to make any sort of profit, or get any sort of glory whatsoever.  I am here because Jesus Christ, the Son of God, my Abba Father, lives in Me through His Spirit.  I am here because my Father misses His children, and wants to hold them again.  He wants to be with them again.  I am simply His Vessel here.  

It is this image that keeps me moving.  It is the gift of His eyes that allows me to love these kids unconditionally.  Each time I go anywhere and catch the glance of one of His beautiful children, He shows me His Heart for them.  He shows me how much He loves them, how His Heart breaks for them, how much He misses them, and it takes all of my energy to not run up to them right then and there and wrap them up in a hug and never let them go.  

He simply wants to hold them, and Me, being undeserving of any role in His Plans, am honored to be able to let Him hold them, through Me.

It's all for Him.

Despite my bad day yesterday, and the broken times I had yet to experience in the coming day today, I had a good wake-up call this morning at devotions.  We sang a song that many of you will know: “I’m coming back to the heart of worship, and it’s all about you, all about you Jesus.”  I am reminded that even though I am sad about my friends not being here, the ones from home and the ones that have recently left, it’s not about me.  He calls me back to Him.  He takes my chin with His hand and turns my head back to meet His gaze.  My time here is all about Him, and it was great to be reminded that so simply this morning.

Our first ministry we went to was Katalemwa Children’s Hospital, and it was our group’s turn to talk with the moms.  I ensured that I got a different translator than last time so that hopefully I would have a better experience, and for the most part I did.  This time we spent a lot of time getting to know these women’s stories and listening to their struggles, and then we just prayed for them at the end or gave them any encouragement we had.  For the third time in three days, my eyes filled with salty tears listening to the first woman’s story.  She was a jaja (grandmother) and one of her eyes was missing.  We asked her why she was there, and about her life.  She told us she was there for her grandson, who was born with both of his legs crippled.  We asked where his mom was, and she told us she had died 1 week after he was born.  She told us she had given birth to three daughters, one of them died, and the other two have disappeared.  Her husband is too old to work, so they do not have any form of income.  She had lost her eye a few years ago when she got a disease and it became so infected that it was completely useless, and would have caused the disease to spread through her entire body.  When her daughter got pregnant, she was so ashamed of what happened to her that she refused to tell the jaja who the father of her child was.  She died before the jaja could figure it out, so she was now forced to take care of her grandson.  She started crying as she told us that she didn’t know how she was going to pay the balance for her grandson’s treatment at the hospital, so she was forced to stay there until she could figure it out, causing her balance to continually causing her more and more stress.  My eyes filled with tears as I watched the tears flow out of both of her tear ducts, even the one that was missing her eye. 

Again, I feel useless.  I’m sure we did all we could, but I still feel it is not enough.

After this we were supposed to go back to City Side Secondary School, the one we have been going back to for a while now.  There was another communication error, and the other teams went to City Side while we went to Clive College.  I think I was still so broken from yesterday that I didn’t think anything of it.  I don’t have much to comment on about this day except that Heath, one of the new guys who is one of my favorite people here, gave an incredible sermon that touched even me. 

Later on in the afternoon, I was supposed to go back to Kyambogo College with a few others to see Lydia and watch them practice basketball, as I usually do.  But the van that was going there left without me and another girl who was planning on going.  All these communication errors are getting me very excited for safari, when I can just get away for a while.  We ended up going with a different group to Bethany Secondary School where they played basketball with their school team.  We lost, but I had fun taking pictures and sitting with some 7 year olds as they laughed at my attempts at Luganda. 

Now we are back at the house, and I am looking forward to tomorrow, as hopefully it will be a better day.  We are going to Sanyu where one of my friends has asked me to come with her and take pictures of her last time at the Babies Home.  She is in her last year of university for occupational therapy and has been practicing the things she would do in her job here at the Babies Home and at Katalemwa Children’s Hospital.  She has not been able to take pictures at the Babies Home because we just recently got permission.  She has really appreciated a lot of the pictures I have taken and she asked if I would take some photos for her while she’s doing therapy.  I readily agreed, and am really looking forward to this job.  I am also thinking about asking one of the Ugandans if I could take a day this week to not actively participate in the ministries, but simply take photos, as this is where I have found my joy so far this week.  We are also going back to the Remand Home, so I will see how Irene’s case has worked out and will be able to give a Bible to Susan. 

I am simply praying for refreshing and for guidance on what I can do to help ease all these broken hearts.

Hello, Goodbye.

So, I will use this post to update about the week thus far, though it has seemed to be a blur since Monday night. 

In the morning on Monday we went to Sanyu Babies Home.  I spent the first part of the day in the smaller baby class, which I have decided is not my favorite job.  I can handle it for a little bit, like feeding time or washing time or something, but just sitting there with them for so long is really hard.  Part of the reason why I like Sanyu is that it is a lot more organized than Nsambya and I know the kids get enough care and attention, and their brains are stimulated.  (At least most of them.)  However, it is really hard to sit there in a room of 15 babies when there are about 20 volunteers all wanting to hold one.  I just feel useless there sometimes.  After a little while of watching other volunteers steal the babies I was playing with originally, I finally stood up and started taking some pictures.  This brought me so much joy.  I really love the photographs I am able to take here, and to see the joy on other’s faces when I catch one of their precious moments.  After discovering that our ministry was officially allowed to take pictures, I went outside to take some more pictures and saw that we were having song-time with the 2 and 3 year olds.  I officially love the toddlers at Sanyu.  They are so crazy and absolutely hilarious.  I spent a lot of the time taking pictures of my friend Emily, since it was her last day in Uganda. 

After visiting Sanyu, we came home and had lunch and then had our planning meeting, probably the quickest meeting we’ve had yet.  I spent the rest of the day hanging out with Emily and some others before she left. 

Oh my word, I never thought losing a friend that I made in probably less than a month would be so hard.  We had our goodbye prayer circle for Emily, Jessie, and Kevin, and then me and my friend Jenna went with them to the airport.  As for Jessie, she was the one who came with me on my flight to Uganda; I am now the only person left who came the same time as me.  Kevin, he was really great because he was incredibly sarcastic all the time, but if you pulled him away he was really wise and really good to talk to.  But Emily, oh goodness.  She was someone I just felt myself with.  I really believe we will be friends long after this trip, and I can only pray this will happen.  She is truly an incredible person.  I think I have stayed pretty strong this entire month, but once I got home and realized the person I always went to was gone, I just broke down.  I feel really bad for the 5 new people who are here, because I know that first week is really challenging, and I am not doing very much to help them transition. 

Today we went to Modern Infants Primary School again, and it was really fun and crazy as usual.  Afterwards we had lunch and went to King Solomon’s Secondary School in Kyambogo.  I have to admit, when we got there I got another wave of sadness at my friend leaving because she and I had some fun times together at this school.  I think this week is going to be my breaking point, all of it. 

Anyways, I really enjoyed the program we did there, and then afterwards we stayed after to talk with a few of them before they had to go to class.  I got to talking to some girls, one named Fiona and another named Maureen.  Fiona was really stylish (or as they say here, “smart”) and said she wanted to be a journalist.  Fiona started to get a little bored of me I think, and she left to talk to someone else, so I got to talk with Maureen.  Her story and the absolute reality of the suffering here hit me like a ton of bricks, causing me to leave the school with tears in my eyes, angry that I still can’t think of anything I can do to help her.  I asked her how she was, what year she was in school, all the usual questions, however when I had been through all these questions we still had a little time left.  I asked her how her life was, and if she would tell me about her family.  She started to get emotional as she told me that she was in Senior 5 (one year before she graduates from secondary) but she is never sure if she will be able to make it to graduation.  Her family comes from a village far away from her school, though both of her parents died when she was young.  She had an older brother who was 23, and three younger sisters.  Her older brother is working to pay for Maureen’s education, though he himself has not been educated past P.6 (6^th grade).  Her sisters were not in school because their brother could only afford one at a time.  She constantly feels pressured to do well in school and get a good paying job to pay back her brother and help him care for their sisters.  The tone in her voice was so genuinely desperate that my eyes started filling with tears just listening to her.  I asked if her family was Christian, and if she herself was “born-again” she said she was, and then she asked me to pray for her and her family and to continue praying for them even after we left that day.  I did so, though I didn’t feel like I deserved to because I knew that I had much more than her materially, but I still could not think of a way to help her and her family.  She then brought me to her classroom and had me pray for her extremely immature classmates, I won’t explain the harsh adjectives used here because in comparison to the story I had just heard, the comments I got from some of her classmates infuriated me.  She held my hand the entire rest of the time as I asked her more questions about her family, searching for a way in.  The only things I can think of are to sponsor her until she finishes school and then move on to sponsor her sisters and brother in the same way once she has graduated.  However, there is a girl in the Acholi squatter’s area that I was thinking of sponsoring already, so I’m completely unsure of what to do.  I don’t think I’ve ever been that silent in the car ride on the way home.

Later on we actually did go and visit the squatter's home, and I was torn even more when little Josephine, the girl I was thinking about sponsoring, asked the first person out of the car where I was.  When she saw me step out of the car she ran up to me and jumped in my arms.  She refused to let go, burying her head in my shoulder, as I asked her how school was, how she was, how her parents were.  She answered all my questions after which I whispered into her ear, “Nkwagala nyo nyo Josephine” which means: “I love you so so much Josephine” in Luganda.  She turned her head towards my right ear and whispered, “Nkwagala Emily.”  This was the highlight of my visit there, as afterwards it got a little chaotic and my strength was tested once again.  We had gone at a time where the kids were just getting back from school.  Needless to say, all the mzungus at these slum houses attracted a lot of attention from the kids coming home from school, and even the ones who didn’t live there came to say hello.  Some of them came for legitimate reasons, because they wanted to play and be loved on, while others came to see what they could steal from the mzungus.  It broke my heart as I heard one of our girls tell Vanessa, who passed the message onto me, that the kids from school were making fun of them and were stealing the gifts we had passed out.  It was absolutely chaotic, and it was so frustrating because if we had just organized it a little better before jumping straight into it, it would have worked out so well.  This is one of my frustrations, many of the Ugandans do not communicate with each other or with the American MST’s very well, and it causes many of our projects to fail or not run as smoothly as we would like.  Vanessa apologized to our kids before we left, and our hearts broke when they immediately began telling us about their lives, only for us to cut them short because we had to go.  We promised we would be back soon.  I am praying that the other kids who witnessed us talking and playing with them will not tease them in school and will not rob their houses searching for the gifts the white people gave to them. 

I have cried at least once every day this week, and I don’t see an end nearing.  He is showing me His heart for His children, which is beautiful.  But He is also showing me how it feels when His heart is broken over them, which is excruciating.

sabbath.

I really needed this weekend, which I took as a Sabbath and a time to get some things that I have been meaning to do.  It seriously refilled and refreshed me, and got me re-excited for the ministry God has called me to do here.  

In the morning, I got to write a letter to one of the girls I have gotten really close with and will really miss, which was good because she was gone visiting her sponsor kid in Luweero and I haven’t had time to do it since she’s always around.  I also ordered a copy of the devotional I brought that my mentor had given to me because she really likes when I share with her the things that the Lord is teaching me through it, and I really feel like it would bless her a lot.  Then the people who didn’t go on safari, rafting, or bungee jumping that day all went into town to get some last minute (for them) gifts from the craft market, and a few of them went out to eat while 3 of us returned to the house for lunch.  

After lunch, I hung around the house a little bit and answered some e-mails and just relaxed.  I went outside to the backyard and had the God-time I had been craving.  I didn’t even realize I was sitting out there for about an hour and a half.  It amazes me how incredibly spot-on this devotional book has been for my trip.  I also tried to journal a bit in my prayer journal I brought, but that took a long time.  It seriously helped a lot though because I ended up sorting out a lot of things that have been running through my mind simply by writing down on paper exactly what has been in my head.  

After this, I sat back and closed my eyes for a little meditative prayer time.  This is something I absolutely love in my relationship with Christ.  When I take the time to do this, he blesses me richly, and I was excited that I would finally get to do it here.  It’s really hard to explain, but basically this time was a lot different than usual and I started to freak out.  However, I really feel it is simply because of my change in location, but not in the way you are thinking.  My space in this world, my role in this generation is changing, and therefore I am changing.    

In this time with the Lord, I was reminded of a poem a good friend of mine recently wrote and shared in her blog.  It was so inspiring and beautiful, and dealt with a lot of things going on in my head right now.  I felt God nudging me to try something like that, so I asked for His hand to guide mine in my journal, and I simply began writing.  The words just came out.  They flowed out of my pen, onto my journal, in a poetic fashion that I have never been able to do on my own.  There are still some things I think I want to add or delete here and there, but once it is perfected, I will post it.  This piece of prose, poetry, whatever you want to call it was really special for me to read because I know it was not me who wrote it.  I read the words that His Spirit formed and am stunned into awe.  I now know my purpose here, and it’s not this huge revelation or anything, but I know at least one reason why I am here this summer.  I know His will and plan is perfect, and I know what He is trying to teach me, at least right now.  I won’t give it all away just yet though, maybe in my next post.  

I left this time with God fully refreshed and invigorated, ready for ministry.  I felt joyful and I wanted people to notice that it was not my joy, but His.  I saw the neighbor kids, Rihanna & Jeremiah (3 & 4 years old, respectively) and decided to take some time out of my day to play with them.  That was SO much fun!  They are absolutely crazy, and it is easy to invest in them since they live right next door, and are related to one of the Ugandan volunteers, so they are at the house all the time.  I am really excited to invest in them over the next month of my stay.  

This morning we went to St. Kakumba Chapel in Kyambogo, and thank the Lord we only had to attend the service.  It ended up being a really great service because this woman preached and she was really funny and was easy to pay attention to, plus the content of her sermon was really deep and insightful.  The rest of the day we just hung out around the house, those of us who didn’t go on safari this weekend.  Vanessa and I decided to go back and visit the squatters, but this time we brought my laptop, some sweets, and The Lion King DVD.  It was SO cute to watch them watching the movie.  The little ones would giggle as Timon & Pumba started singing about fuyes (farts), while the older ones would translate what was happening to them.  It was possibly one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.  Then after the movie was over, we had about a half-hour before we had to get back, and they wanted to sing and dance for us as they always do.  It was really cool because they did a traditional Acholi dance, and I felt like a proud mother as I videotaped them haha.  

I’m very excited to post my “purpose” post, but I want to save it until I have my piece of prose perfected.  Tomorrow we are going to the Babies Homes in the morning and then spending the afternoon planning the week.  Plus, this Saturday I will be attending a traditional Ugandan wedding ceremony.  However, this is not the actual wedding.  In their culture, they have an “Introduction Ceremony” before the wedding.  This basically serves the same purpose as an engagement party; only it is a way bigger deal than the actual wedding day.  Every attendee must wear the traditional dress, according to the bride’s tribe, and there are certain rituals that we will have to learn: how to kneel correctly, when to kneel, how to dance, when to dance, etc.  This ceremony is set in place for the families of the bride and groom to be officially introduced to each other, and when I say families I mean full-extended-cousins-of-cousins kind of families.  They find it really important to have as many people as possible at the Introduction so they have more people that will hold them accountable to keep their marriage strong, and bear witness to their vows.  This is also the time when the groom presents the dowry to the bride’s parents.  Yes, they still use a dowry system here.  Only most of the time they don’t use money, they use cows.  So the groom will either present the family with all cows, cows and some goats, maybe some chickens and fruits, and definitely a little bit of money in there as well.  This is why it takes so long for a Ugandan man to marry, because cows here are very expensive and some parents are very picky about the dowry.  I’m not sure what Sarah’s dowry is, but I am excited to see this traditional transaction.  I will also be leaving for safari on Sunday the 26th in the morning, and will be returning on Tuesday, so there won’t be any posts during that time.  I love you all, and I hope you are bearing with my super long posts, but most of all I hope you are blessed by them!

In His Perfect Love,

Em

helping kids in need

This morning we visited Kyambogo Primary School, which is where the kids who live in the squatters’ houses go to school.  My group went with the kids from p.1 to p.3 (equivalent to 1st-3rd grades) and I got to see Josephine again!  She is so precious; I just love her.  It was really weird though because when we visit her at home, she is absolutely NUTS.  She is the one dancing in the corner, completely off-beat, hoping no one is watching her, and then giggles with possibly the cutest laugh I’ve ever heard when she sees me laughing at her.  However, at school she was really calm, most likely because she didn’t want to get caned by her teacher (yes, they still cane children in the schools here) so it was really weird to see that side of her.  But she still was cute as can be and hugged me upon leaving.  I’m really praying about whether I should sponsor her or someone on the waiting list.  

This afternoon we went to Kids In Need, an open-door policy orphanage of sorts in the area.  Basically, street children are allowed to live and go to school there, but they are also allowed to leave whenever they want.  We were supposed to help them paint some of the structures within the facility but we didn’t have any paint ready, so for a few hours we sat around and played with some of the kids.  It was really fun because there is this one boy Peter who is so amazing.  You can just tell he as a joy that can only come from the Lord.  We saw him last time and he just smiles and dances all the time, always asks how you are and wants to talk with you and learn from you.  He is simply amazing.  He taught me an African card game, which I promptly beat him at, and I taught him an American card game, which he beat me at.  It was really fun just hanging out and talking with him.  We finally got the paint with only about 2 hours left in our visit time, but we only had like 2 or 3 paintbrushes, so I ended up just playing with the kids for longer.  

Not much more to comment on, but I was definitely relieved to have a more relaxed day today.

good day.

Today was a really good day.

Sorry to everyone who has been disappointed by the frustrations in my last posts, I am trying to keep this blog as honest as possible, and if this is the case, 2 months in a foreign place is most likely going to have a few frustrations.  

In the morning we went to the Babies Homes, and I returned to Nsambya.  It was really nice to just sit with the "moms" and peel potatoes, and then just hold babies.  Really relaxing, seriously.

Then in the afternoon we got to return to the Remand Home.  I was very eager about this because I had bought some things for Irene, including a Luganda Bible, knickers, and a towel.  On my way there I said a little prayer, that she wouldn't be there.  She was innocent and had her court date on Wednesday and I was hoping she would be released.  But I was also hoping I would get to see her.  When I got there, I scanned the room and couldn't find her.  I sat down uncomfortably in our usual spot in the classroom, the first time I had felt awkward there.  A girl, Susan, who was friends with Irene came and sat beside me.  I asked her how she had been, and if she knew where Irene was.  She told me her court date was actually today, so that was why she was not here.  We then started the program and it was absolutely insane.  The kids went crazy and it was so much fun to worship with them.  They were dancing, jumping, drumming, shaking like it was their job and it was so much fun to see their smiling faces despite their unfortunate circumstances.  After the message, I started talking to Susan again, asking why she was here and if she would get a chance to get released like the others.  She told me that she had been working for someone for 6 months and had not received any pay.  She decided to ask her boss about it, and he reported her for stealing his money.  She said the judge even acknowledged that he was using her for child labour, something that is unfortunately very common here, but she was still sentenced to serve her term at the Remand Home.  She said she was going to be there until August 19.  All of a sudden, this girl who was just glowing with joy, came bounding into the classroom, and I noticed it was Irene.  She was no longer in her uniform, but in daily clothes.  She ran over to me and gave me a huge hug, with an incredible smile to follow, as she screamed for joy that she had been released.  She was going to stay in Remand Home for a while until she could get money to take her home to Entebbe, and then she would be free to go.  I had never seen her so happy and excited, and when we talked she didn't whisper to me out of embarrassment, she spoke as loud as she could with such joy.  However, she had just spent the entire day in court so she was really hungry, so I let her go and eat after giving her the things I brought her.  I started talking to Susan again, and she told me that she really wanted a Bible.  I guess this caused me to realize how much of a baby I have been here.  Before I left for this trip, the Lord laid it on my heart to use a certain decently large portion of my money for Bibles.  I was going to buy them beforehand, but the people here suggested I wait as some of them can only read Luganda.  As of now, what 4 weeks into my stay here?  I have only bought one Bible.  I also realize that there are so many people here who are just craving love and attention, and yet I am trying to limit myself to one or two people at each project we go to.  This is the reason why I agreed to buy her a Bible, and will be buying some more Bibles for a friend who can't afford to buy ones for the kids she has connected with.  I've decided to become more proactive in fulfilling at least one of the roles God has set for me here, because it is so easy and it is a huge seed that can definitely be grown with the correct resources.  As we were about to leave, Irene came back from eating and ran and gave me a huge hug.  She said to me: "Emily, will you just pray for me right now, now is a time to rejoice!"  I eagerly agreed, and asked her if there was anything specific she wanted prayer for.  She thought for a few seconds then said: "No.  You just pray whatever you feel is in your heart."  This just astounded me.  Almost every child I have prayed for has asked for something, for God to provide their school fees is the main one, but I've even gotten one asking me to pray they will get an American sponsor.  But this girl, who was just released from juvenile detention, had no money to get back home, no parents back at home (she lives with her aunt), and no other family members, had left school because of being arrested and didn't know how she would be received when she returned to school, she didn't have anything that she felt like she needed prayer for.  She simply felt blessed that she had been released.  I prayed for her, gave her another huge hug through her outstanding joy, and left, possibly with a portion of her own joy.  

Later today, me and Vanessa decided to take a boda-boda to visit the Acholi squatters to give them the vaseline we bought for them and see how they were doing.  We got there and immediately all the kids we had seen before raced up to us and gave us a huge hug.  Even the moms smiled and waved at us before coming over and greeting us.  I just love how connected we are with that place, and how amazing those kids are.  We gave the gift to the eldest child, since she is responsible for getting the kids ready for school in the morning, and she said she would try to distribute it equally amongst them all.  I felt really bad because it seemed that my two jars of vaseline were a pitiful gift in comparison with what they need, but they were grateful still.  We couldn't stay long, but we promised we would come back on Sunday and visit after church.  Vanessa suggested to me that we bring a laptop with a movie and some ice cream for them, just as a little party since Vanessa is leaving soon and all her weekends already have things planned.  I am so excited to get to do this with them.  

Also, just as a little update on the team, we just got a few more people in as the other two left, and one is from NORTHERN IRELAND.  It is the coolest thing ever, and I know I sound like a nerd, but I could just listen to her talk all day.  I guess I knew there was an Irish accent from movies and such, but I always pictured them as fake.  She is very outgoing and bubbly and I just love being around her.  Yes, she has already said I can visit her when I am in Europe this spring.  So now I will be visiting my friend Hannah in Bristol, England; Amy Larder in South Hampton, England; Amy Kyle's parents in London, England; and Amy Kyle in Liverpool, England (where she goes to University) and in Belfast, Northern Ireland.  I am so excited.  I have also found out that one of the Ugandans who I have gotten very close with will be doing some ministry in Bath, England for a year, so I will get to visit her as well which is so exciting!  While all these newbies are very exciting, it means that many of the ones I have connected with are leaving.  I am sad to see many of them go, as five of them leave on Monday and five come in on Tuesday, but I am excited to meet more people and hear more stories.  There are so many incredible people in this world, and I am proud to say that I know a good few handfuls of them.