I Am HOME!

I am home.
It feels good. It feels right. I have missed my family and friends. I have missed my bed. My time in Uganda was just right. As I attempt to sum up my experiences, I wanted to attempt to answer some of the questions that I have been asked since being back…

What was the craziest thing you ate?
Termites and Grasshoppers. My preference would definitely be the Grasshoppers. Very salty.

How was the food?
Excellent. I didn’t really miss American food (except for sushi). It was so good in fact that I actually gained weight in Africa. Yes, it is true…when you see me next, I will be a whole pound heavier…Big adjustment!

What are you not going to miss?
Doing laundry by hand. Breathing in dust. Being surrounded by such incredible need all the time. Being elevated to celebrity status simply because my skin was white.

What do you miss the most?
The people. They were truly some of the most gracious, loving, accepting, welcoming people I have ever met. I was constantly told to greet all the people I love back home and to tell you all that you are welcome…so: Greetings to you from Uganda. You are most welcome to come and visit anytime. They would love to have you! I miss the beautiful kids. I miss walking in the door and hearing “Mommy Rachel! Mommy Rachel!” and having 35 toddlers crawling all over me. I miss little Mercy and her sassy little 2 year old tantrums. I miss Zechariah (age 4) asking me to read him the Bible. (“Mommy Rachel…I want to read the Bible.”). I miss tickling William (the manager at Welcome Home). I miss tickling, dancing and laughing with the mommies. I miss learning with people of Victory Christian Center and having the honor of teaching them.
I miss the pace of life in Africa. I was incredibly busy while I was there and yet never felt hurried. I like that there you take time to greet people and that you make plans with the understanding that something might happen (no transport, rain, an obstinate cow) to change the plans and you just deal with it.
I will miss the weather. I got very spoiled with the high temperatures and sunshine every day. I have “enjoyed” my first snow fall of the season this past weekend…so much so that I actually got my car stuck in my driveway, how you ask? Oh, that would be because I refused to shovel it and foolishly thought that my little corolla could drive over a few inches of snow and ice! Yes…I miss the warm weather.

Are you wanting to go back?
Long Term? No. I know that I have been called here and that was affirmed and reaffirmed during my time in Uganda. To visit? Absolutely! I have found a home amongst the people of Jinja, Uganda and look forward to holding the babies and being with my sisters and brothers there again sometime soon.

What did you learn? What was your biggest take-away?
The biggest thing that I learned was to simply be. If I had wanted to, I had the opportunity to speak at a different church every Sunday, teach at multiple fellowships in the evenings, do 2-3 VBS programs during the day, and do hospital/prison ministry. While the opportunities were endless I was able to have peace with saying no, often times opting to hold a baby instead and coming to realize that it all is ministry. It all pleases the Lord as long as the heart is in the right place. Being upfront, speaking and teaching did not validate my time there, and while I was happy to do those things occasionally I was able to do them in healthy moderation. Often times, I found that the greater thing for me to do during my time there was to change diapers, do data entry, or read books to the kids. I loved the freedom that came with simply being.

My friend gifted me with the new Sara Groves CD when I got home. The lyrics to I Saw What I Saw do an amazing job of capturing my heart and feelings about my time in Uganda…

I saw what I saw and I can’t forget it
(A Grandma trying to raise 19 grandchildren being evicted from her home and having no where to go)
I heard what I heard and I can’t go back
(The songs of the village choirs, the kids singing and dancing. Their laughter.)
I know what I know and I can’t deny it
(There are people who need to know that they haven’t been forgotten, that someone sees their need and cares. There are people who need to know they are loved.)
Something along the road cut me to the soul

Your pain has changed me
(Telling Diana that Juliana had passed away. Holding her hand and crying with her.)
Your dream inspires
(William building a house for his family of 5 by selling paper necklaces.)
Your face a memory
(Watching Mercy’s eyes light up when I entered the room)
Your hope a fire
(Pastor Timothy having a vision for the Island schools, seeing something better for them and their future)
Your courage asks me what I’m afraid of and what I know of love
What I am made of
What I’m afraid of and what I know of love
And what I know of God

We’ve done what we’ve done and we can’t erase it
We are what we are and its more than enough
We have what we have but its no substitution
Something down the road cut me to the soul

I say what I say with no hesitation
(Africa does not need our sympathy or charity, She needs our support)
I have what I have but I’m giving it up
I do what I do with deep conviction
Something along the road cut me to the soul

I am humbled that the Lord continues to take the energy to teach me and show me new things. I am grateful that He isn’t through with me yet and allows me to go deeper and experience more. I am not content with the status quo, I do not want to hug the wall, I do not want my decisions to be motivated by fear…I want to live this life that He has given me. I want to be challenged with what I see and experience. I want more. I went to Africa to see Him in the faces of the people that I met. I saw Him as I held Juliana. I met Him in the hospital as I prayed for a man who had been paralyzed by a boda boda accident. I fed Him. I clothed Him. I visited Him. I cried with Him. I laughed with Him. I met Him in Uganda. This trip was absolutely everything that I needed it to be and more. The stories and lessons from my time in Uganda are endless. Months from now I am sure that new insights will come and new lessons will be learned. I am embracing this time of transition, this time of learning, this time of reflection. I am honored that I have had the opportunity to go and love and serve the people of Uganda. I am forever changed.

Two weeks from today I will be back home. Back in cold weather. Back to what has always been familiar. Back to the people that I have loved and missed. Back to what I have always known. Yet I know I am coming back different, changed. I am coming back to hopefully view the familiar through different eyes, to love more deeply, and to serve more freely. And while I am looking forward to coming home and to what’s next, I am aware of the time here passing quickly and am desperately trying to sit in these last moments and drink in all that Uganda is and has to offer.

I had an amazing weekend. It was Ashley’s birthday on Saturday so she and I went to lay out by our favorite pool and eat our favorite food here (Mexican!). We have gone to the Mexican restaurant quite a bit and after eating there again last night, the owner offered us a free meal on him next week as his thank you and farewell gift to us! (I know that my dad is incredibly proud right now…getting free things in Africa. I am my father’s daughter!). Afterwards we put on our African wear that a tailor made for us. I straightened and blow dried my hair, and put on make-up for the first time in almost 3 months! It was great. We then met up with our friends and had a great dinner complete with birthday cake and chocolate chip cookies.

Sunday was my last official Sunday at Victory Christian Center, the church that I have been attending and teaching at during my time here. Some of the youth were dancing in the back again during worship and Tiffany and I decided to join this time. And while I consider myself above average in the keeping rhythm department…there is something extra that God gave to Africans in the realm of being able to shake and move things that us white people didn’t even know existed, that leaves me looking like an amateur and laughing hysterically at myself while trying to keep up. It was fabulous.

It was family day for the church and about 180 of the 200 members showed up in the afternoon to travel by bus to a large campground to celebrate life together. It was supposed to be from 3-6 but the day of we learned that it would start at 1. True to African time, at 2:30 we left for the field. There are truly no words to capture how incredibly wonderful this day was. They dressed up some of my friends in gomezs, the traditional Ugandan wear for mothers, and they performed a few songs. I was dressed in a Ugandan t-shirt and a wrap skirt, given a bracelet and a small purse and sent outside where I was met with the church holding markers waiting to write all over my shirt telling me how much they loved me and would miss me. Later I too had the ‘privilege’ of wearing a Gomez and getting to sing and dance for the church. I was given cards, pictures, and a small coin purse. The pastor’s mom, Jaja Joy, gifted me with a large woven straw mat. It is absolutely beautiful, probably too big to get it home, but tears flowed as this elderly, joyful woman, who has blessed my life and taught me so much during my time here, stood in front of me with this gift telling me how much she loved me and how grateful she was to me for loving her people. I was humbled and honored by the people that have quickly become family during my time here in Uganda. Everything was a big deal and a reason to celebrate. They played tug-of-war and you would have thought that the winners had just won the World Cup by the way they screamed and yelled and ran around jumping and dancing! Two cakes were prepared for the church and everyone came around to count down from 5 for the cutting of the cake. I don’t think the tears stopped the entire time. The majority coming from pure joy. So much laughter. So much that could never be captured by a camera but will instead remain in my heart and mind as my own special blessing that I received from the beautiful people of VCC. That day I saw the Church being the Church in the way that Jesus intended all along. People from different tribes and tongues, all ages, laughing and loving each other, doing life together in such a way that displayed His beauty in incredible ways to all who were present. I think our Father was laughing and crying right along with us that day.

One of the interns that stays with us, John, was born and raised here in Jinja. It has been very interesting getting to know him and spending considerable amounts of time together. We were talking once about how it was very difficult for him and intense culture shock for him to be surrounded by Muzungus all the time. How out-of-place he felt because he didn’t get the jokes or understand what was being discussed. I find it fascinating that a man can feel so out-of-place in his own country and how us Muzungus were feeling the same thing being in a place that is not our home. He went to dinner with some of the girls last weekend and was incredibly offended and uncomfortable the entire time. Some of the girls had a beer and went outside to smoke. He told me later that you would never find a woman, especially a Christian woman, drinking or smoking in Uganda. We went to an Indian-owned restaurant. He informed me that you would never usually find him there. (There is a lot of animosity between the Ugandans and Indians because the Indians own most of the businesses and are very rich). The girls, if they had known, would have never drank or smoke in front of John. They love the Lord and are here serving Him, but in Uganda the Christians are very stuck and focused on the Don’ts. Christians Don’t Smoke, Don’t Drink, Don’t go Dancing, some would go as far to say Don’t Hold Hands with the opposite sex because that is consider a part of the act of sex. Pretty extreme. There is very little liberty experienced in Christ here yet. You are defined Christian by what you don’t do. It pains me that people here can look at one action and judge instantly if that person is born again. I guess that isn’t just an African problem. We have become so comfortable in what we don’t do that I wonder if we have enough time to focus on what we do Do as Christians. As I was sharing the Gospel at the hospital with a man, his question was simply, what are the rules that I have to follow? It is not human nature to delight in rules and restrictions, but instead in freedom. How I desperately long to be known as a Christian by what I do…and not just the going to church, reading my Bible, praying kind of doing…which are all incredibly important, but I want to do by loving with a radical love, I want to be known as a person who is so unattached to material things that there would be no hesitation to give to whoever had need, I want to serve in uncomfortable ways, I want to make friends with the unfriendly, I want to be an agent in turning mourning into dancing. I want to worship with all that I am. Those are the things that I want to people to notice and remember about me…not what I didn’t do.

I said it before and I will say it again, I am in love Uganda. I love this culture. I love the people. I love who I am here. Soon I will be leaving this place, but I hope and pray that this place will never leave me. I pray that I have been changed forever as a result of my time here.

Happy Thanksgiving!

This Thanksgiving was the first one that I have not spent with my family, the first one where there was no turkey consumed, and while it was different, my African Thanksgiving was a good one. I woke up and watched the 4 chickens, that we would later on consume that evening, get slaughtered. Interesting. While there was no watching of the Macy Thanksgiving Day Parade or sadly any Football, there was still an incredible feast. All the interns that have been staying at Arise Africa got together with the missionaries there for a great meal. We had Chicken Luambo (a traditional dish only served to the highest guests of honors, it consists of chicken/onions/tomatoes/carrots prepared in banana leaves), green beans, sweet potato casserole complete with jumbo pink marshmallows, mashed potatoes, rolls, corn dogs (voting this becomes a part of the traditional meal from now on, just because!), and of course CRANBERRY SAUCE (not as good as home, but it was there and it was tasty). For dessert we had apple pie, ice cream and mango crumble. All in all, even without the turkey, I was exhausted and full when the meal was over. True to tradition we all ate ‘til we were sick! It was a great day.

There are many times when I get frustrated over the preferential treatment that I and others receive simply because our skin color is white. However, this week, I am grateful for it. Nick and Tiffany were involved in an accident this week. Nick was driving and a boda boda driver (motorcycle) came right out in front of them without looking. Nick hit him and the man came up onto the hood of the car, cracking the windshield and then fell to the ground. The man quickly got up and was taken to the hospital where he was bandaged but then quickly took off (its speculated that he probably didn’t have a license and would get in big trouble if the police caught him.) If Nick would have been anything but white, he would have spent this entire week in jail. In Uganda you are guilty until proven innocent. If he had killed the man, even though it wasn’t his fault, and he was any color other than white, he would have been killed on the spot. Ugandan street justice. We will know hopefully by Monday if everything is resolved and if Nick is free from any further actions needing to be taken. It looks like everything is going to work out, but this particular instance, it paid to be Muzungu.

In the same breath, this week I have been very embarrassed about being white due to CHOGUM (Commonwealth Heads of Government). It is a huge conference going on in the capital city and the Queen of England and the royal family is here in Uganda. There are rumors that some will be coming to Jinja tomorrow, but no one really knows what is going on. At first glance, one would think that this kind of international attention would be great for the economy of Uganda. Many roads were repaired in anticipation of the queen’s coming and a general “clean-up” began happening all over the country. It wasn’t until this week that I became aware of what they were cleaning up. Many Ugandans make their livelihood by selling food on the street or with small kiosks (stores) that line the roads. Because of CHOGUM, they have been told that they cannot sell their food on the streets and many officials have come through and destroyed the kiosks without giving compensation to the owners, all because this sort of thing looks “trashy” and reflects poorly on Ugandan’s image. They are worried about the impression they will make on their foreign visitors. All Ugandans have to carry their I.D. on them at all times throughout CHOGUM. If found without it, they face immediate jail time. The things that Jinja are known for, Bujagali Falls and the Source of the Nile, are off limits to all Ugandans during this time. Only foreigners are allowed. In efforts to show-off Uganda, they have eliminated what makes Uganda, Uganda. They have put the locals out of business. Taxi drivers aren’t allowed in the main city because it would be too congested. The man who was born with polio, yet has created for himself a living by performing at Bujagali, is out of work this week on the off chance that some dignitary will come and visit. When talking to the locals, CHOGUM is viewed as a cuss word and the result of everyone being out of work, they blame that on the Whites. So the Queen won’t have to face the reality of how the local people live, the Ugandan government has cleared the locals out of the way. For the first time since I have been here, I was told to go home. I was actually told to go the ‘F’ home and while the woman was drunk at 2 in the afternoon, I get her sentiment.

What is so bad about the truth? What would be so awful about getting a glimpse of reality? Would it be too hard to see? Too difficult? And why would it be that way? Maybe because intrinsically we know that something is desperately wrong with the way we live in excess while others go without, and yet we don’t know how to change, or want to change, or think that any change would make any type of difference. So we put those who have nothing but their food stands to support themselves, out of work, so that we can feel better when we tour the country. Never seeing the truth and therefore not believing that there is really something terribly wrong with the place.

While Africa is filled with problems and trials and setbacks, there is a strength here that is unparalled to any other place that I have visited. They will find a way to make it. To survive. And while they desperately need help, they do not need our sympathy or our charity. They are a proud people and they have every right to be. They need to learn how to become self-sufficient. They need to learn business and trade that will generate income. They need help getting started, but then they need to be set free to make it theirs and to realize that they can make it on their own.

I am in love with this place, this people. I am taking from Africa way more than I could ever give her. While I was not lost in coming here, I have found myself becoming more of who I was intended to be all along. While I was not blind, I find myself seeing with different eyes. Africa was exactly what my soul had been craving and desiring. I wanted more than mere Christianity. I wanted to step out of the boat and see if I had the faith to walk on the water. I wanted to love people in a radical way. I wanted to go deeper than I have ever been before. I did. I have. And I did.

While Africa is and always will be special to me, there is nothing magical in and of this place alone. God met me here simply because I was ready to be met by Him. He showed me new things simply because I was finally at a place where I could see them.
There have been crazy days here but my life did not become crazy. There have been incredibly busy days and yet my soul never became rushed or frantic. It has taken almost three months, but my life has finally taken on a slower, more peaceful pace, and I am beyond grateful to Africa for that.

One More Month

One month from today I will be back in the United States. My time here is quickly coming to an end. Although it seems like time is flying by, at the same time I feel as though I have been here forever. In two short months I have found a home here in Jinja, Uganda. I have found a community that I love and a new way of doing things that brings a smile to my face and my heart. Don’t get me wrong, I will be ready to come home in a month, but I will also be forever grateful for the time that I have had here.

This past week we went back to the islands. I missed two days due to being sick. At first I thought it was an allergic reaction to a medicine I’m taking but realized instead that it was caused by some unknown insect bites that I got on Monday. There was some definite cause for worry as my body felt like I had the flu but I wasn’t sick. I was in intense ‘take your breath away’ pain for 7 hours straight. If I were at home I would have definitely gone to the doctor, but here the medical care is ‘interesting.’ Unless you have malaria, then it is a guessing game for the doctors to figure out what is ailing you. One of my friends went to the doctor knowing that she had bronchitis and wanting medicine, she left the doctor being diagnosed with cystic fibrosis! Oh Africa. :o)…Fortunately for me, I was able to take benadryl and began to feel better after a couple of days.

Last Sunday I went to the hospital with a group of 15 people to pray for the people there. It is hard to put into words what I saw and experienced. In Uganda there are few doctors and nurses. The need is great. Here, the patient’s families are the ones that are responsible for feeding and caring for them. If you don’t have family, you starve. If you don’t have some one getting the attention of the doctor on your behalf, chances are you will die. The family sleeps under or by the patient’s bed. Life is put on hold for everyone in hopes of getting the patient better again. I went to the Ninth Ward, which is the accident and burn unit. Most of the guys I prayed with and talked to were involved in boda boda accidents and had broken legs with rods sticking through the knees. I met a man named Joseph with some type of stomach ailment. He was there with his wife and told me of the 5 kids at home. He cried as he told me over and over again that he is the one responsible to take care of them but he can’t. He has been at the hospital for over a month now and has no idea how much longer he will be there. I prayed and shared the Gospel with 8 people…4 accepted Christ that day. I am hoping to go again to do some follow-up with them and hopefully give them a Bible in their own language.

The needs, the pain, the suffering are so evident at the hospital. So many of the practices are old-fashioned and compared to American medicine, would be seen as barbaric. We met a mom whose son’s leg was infected and causing severe problems. The decision was made to amputate, and with no anesthesia or even painkillers, they literally just cut the leg off. Women in need of c-sections have them without any pain medication at all. Women who have lost their babies in childbirth are left in the same hallway as women who have delivered healthy babies. They are doing the best they can at the hospital but its not good enough. The need is overwhelming. I felt very small as I moved amongst the hurting and the sick.

The police here are interesting. It is hard at times to know what they actually do. We asked some workers at the orphanage and they said that they check to see how many people you have in your car, others said that the police are only concerned with matters that affect government officials. Either way, there is a lot of corruption in the police force here in Uganda. A man was stabbed multiple times and was left to die outside of the orphanage’s gate. Esther went to the police with a worker and was told that there wasn’t anything they could do. The man was going to die anyway. Esther insisted that they come and take this man to the hospital. They replied that they needed money for petrol. Fortunately, Esther was insistent and they came and got the man…but all the while looking for a bribe to do what supposedly is their job. Nick was driving past the dam the other day and saw a body floating in the water. It had apparently been reported to the police an hour earlier but the police officers standing on either end of the dam had no idea that there was a body there. Crimes are often left unreported by Ugandans because the police usually accuse the one reporting the crime and put them in jail without trial.

On a positive note, the visits to the islands were once again incredible. I was able to purchase 25 bibles written in Lugandan and we distributed amongst the five islands we went to. We taught the story of Noah all week and taught the kids how to make rain using their hands, they loved it. I also taught the song “I am a Friend of God” and we danced around like crazy people. The students put so much time in preparing for our visits once again. We witnessed some incredible traditional dances and dramas and songs. There are no words to truly capture how warm and welcoming the people of Uganda are. After our first visit to Lwanika, apparently many of the orphans from the school went around saying that Mirembe (my Ugandan name) was their mommy. I have been embraced by the people here and it will be hard to leave. I hope to go back to the islands the week before I leave in order to say good-bye.

A mom of triplets, who were raised at Welcome Home and who have since been placed back in the home, came this past week needing another business loan. She successfully paid back her first loan and used it to open a small food stand. I was able to give her 150,000USH. She was incredibly appreciative. I love the concept of investing in the business loans…ideally the money will be continually reused to better the lives of Ugandans without giving handouts or charity. The people getting these loans are taught responsibility in having to pay them back and then are left with a sense of pride and accomplishment that can’t be given away but must be earned.

Bagaga Yhahaya, an 18yr old boy, came to Welcome Home looking for assistance for his family. His parents both died and he is currently responsible for 5 brothers and sisters ranging from 12 years to 2 ½ years. They were a Muslim family but when the father died they converted to Christianity. They were kicked out of their village, which was primarily Muslim and left with no one to help them and nowhere to go. I was able to give them money for food over the weekend and there are few organizations that are working to get this family some more help.

There is grandmother that a number of us are trying to help right now as well. She is looking after 20 grandchildren by herself. The oldest is 14 and the youngest is 1 ½. All of her children died of AIDS and she is left to care for the babies. The house that she was renting was sold and she was told that she had 2 weeks to find another place to live. Two days later we get a call that all of her stuff was being thrown out of the house and she had to leave that day. A few volunteers that are here from Canada went and moved the grandma and her family to temporary housing near the school where the children attend. There are a lot of people trying to help to find this woman land and work so that she can properly care for the children.

The need is immense. The workers and resources are few. Yet, everyday lives are being changed for the better. This has been a very hard, yet very rewarding two months in Uganda so far. I look forward to taking advantage of the time that I have left here to learn, to grow, and to continue to be changed.

***To view more pictures follow this link: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=67067&l=1dfda&id=826780108

Only A Shadow

There is a song by Misty Edwards called “Only a Shadow” that has spoken to me a lot these past few weeks. It plays off of Ps 23:4, “even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” In the song it repeats the line… “Though I walk through the valley, its only a shadow, its only a shadow.” There is something about that concept that speaks straight to my heart especially during my time here in Africa.

A shadow is dark. Kids often fear their shadows. Often times it is looming and seemingly unending, yet with years comes perspective and as kids grow into adults the shadow loses its mystery and more importantly the fear that was once associated with it. But a shadow is still dark. A shadow is still seemingly unending…but it is only a shadow. No one knows when the shadow will end and be no more,, but the promise is that it is only a shadow.

Juliana’s passing was only a shadow. It was dark. It was hard. But it was only a shadow. Now, there is light. Her aunt Diana came by after the funeral to receive some pictures of Juliana that I had printed up for her. As she waited she shared her story with me. She is 22years old. She is herself an orphan, both parents dying when she was really young. At age 16 she got pregnant and now has a 5year old boy that she is raising on her own. She is 2 years away from completing her degree but has no money and no means to get money to finish her schooling. She asked if there was any work she could do at Welcome Home…the problem is that in order for her to make enough money to get back in school it would take years. So instead, I was able to give her a business loan. I told her that she needed to do the research and find out the cost of starting a small business in her village and to come back in a week with her proposal. A week passed, and there was Diana. She had written out a detailed proposal for opening a small cosmetic/beauty kiosk. She was given 500,000USH which is about $300. She was beyond grateful and beyond excited to get started. Her first payment is due in one month. There is light. Her family will never be the same. If this business succeeds not only will she have the means to keep her son in school, but she will eventually be able to complete her degree. The money will be paid back over a year and a half and then others will be able to use the money for similar loans. None of this would of happened if Juliana had not passed away, if the family had not come to Welcome Home. So Juliana’s story continues. Her short life was only a shadow, but now there is Light and with Light comes a bit of understanding.

We have been doing a lot of work at Welcome Home lately to return some of the children to their home villages. Many of the kids’ mothers died in childbirth and the fathers weren’t able to take care of them at the present time. Now there are 6 families who are ready and willing to take their children back and raise them themselves. We have given business loans to the families so they can start generating income. It has been a roller coaster of emotions for me as I have gone on the home visits with the kids. There is something beautiful about a child going home, about the entire community coming to welcome the child. However, the American in me struggles with picturing the kids in the villages. At Welcome Home they are given 3 meals a day, they have clothes, shoes, indoor plumbing, power, immediate access to health care and a bookshelf full of books and bins full of toys…they won’t have that in the village. Most will eat only one meal a day, they will be responsible for doing their own laundry, working in the fields, gathering water…it is almost as if childhood is taken from them and for the first time they are faced with responsibility. Most will still have the opportunity to be educated in the local schools, but then what? Chances are they will remain in the village their entire lives…Yet, I go out to the villages daily and see joy and community and love unparalleled and I don’t question the kids being there that I meet. I don’t pity them or wish I could take them away from their present circumstances. Who’s to say that life in America is better than life in an African village? Obviously the quick response is, of course it is…there is hope and future and opportunity. But is it better? Are more opportunities greater than the love of an entire extended community? Is the fast-paced culture of America better than a culture that strolls rather than sprints, a culture who finds it necessary to take time out for tea and for 5 minute hello’s and goodbyes’? The more I am here, the more I don’t see America as better, but simply different. Of course I think it would be great for all to have the means to be educated, to have good healthcare, to have electricity and indoor plumbing, and yet we don’t even have that in America. Life is different here, but even life is only a shadow.

Today I gave Christine 70,000USH (approx. $40) to have transport home to her village in Northern Uganda. She has cancer and she is dying. She has a place here in Jinja but she can’t take care of herself and has no one to help her. She knows she is dying and her only request was that she wouldn’t have to die by herself. She is going home to be with her family. Her shadow is dark and looming but this pain, this disease, is only a shadow and she saw some light today as she received the money necessary to go home.

Life, death, pain, suffering…all of it is only a shadow. And while the shadow itself is a place of grief and tears, fear and uncertainty…the promise is that it is only a shadow. The darkness is not permanent and that brings incredible light to my soul as I continue to serve here in Uganda.

Life in Africa

I have been here for almost 2 months now. Everyday holds new challenges and new adventures. I am still in love with this place and with the people. One of my favorite things right now is that I can’t walk anywhere around town without running into someone that I know. It may be other volunteers, people from the church, mommies from the orphanage, or shop owners that I have come to know by name, whoever it may be, I love that I am feeling more and more apart of the community here.

I have done my best to acclimate myself. I am “enjoying” doing my laundry by hand. I usually do it 2-3x/week. I scrub it out with detergent, rinse it, and then let it soak in hot water for the evening. In the morning I wring it out and hang it on the clothesline in my room. I could easily have some of the workers do my laundry here for a small fee, but there is just something about the “African” experience and doing laundry by hand that I find to be a necessary part of my time here :o)

I am loving the Ugandan cuisine. I ate termites! Interesting. They are called white ants and they are best fried. I’m not adventurous enough to eat them when they are still alive. Some say they taste like cracker jacks…they are liars…but I am glad that I tried them. I love the fresh fish, the beans and rice, and my all time favorite is the cabbage.

I have been using public transportation more and more. They call them boda bodas and they are motorcycles (some in better shape than others). As a female it is culturally appropriate for me to sit with my legs off to the side and to hang on to the back of the small seat. The cost is usually about 1000USH, which translates to approx $0.60. It is a quick and efficient way to get around town…scary at times on the busier roads, but an adventure nonetheless. The roads in general are best avoided, not practical, but still the best option. There are no laws here when it comes to driving and the roads. If there are laws and if they are broken, the police would have to chase the offender by foot as there are VERY limited police cars available. Most of the time it is an intense game of Chicken being played out before your eyes…there are 5 cars coming at you, all drivers looking drunk since they are constantly swerving to avoid the numerous potholes, and all you are aimed with is your turn signal to indicate to them that you are coming and they need to get over. Too many near misses to count.

Many of you know my “luck” with lawn mowing. I’m hoping that my time here in Africa will forever rid me of my complaints. Here they use machetes and goats to mow their lawns…I could potentially get into the whole goat thing but unfortunately in America we have Home Associations who would probably frown on such activity.

Power has become more and more unreliable these past few weeks. We are in the middle of rainy season, which translates into many severe storms. Some places have been without power for over 3 weeks now. Fortunately my guest house uses the same line as the hospital, so we are usually only without power for a few hours at a time.

This is a fairly efficient African country…compared to America it is considerably behind, but this isn’t America. In my mind, getting to the bank, paying utility bills, eating lunch, and checking internet, equals a very successful day. The problem is that often there is no rhyme or reason to how they do things. For instance, some came into the country and received a 3 month visa without any problem. We were only given a one month and had to go to immigration to get approved for two more months. I wrote out my request and was told to come back in a half hour, it was tea time. I’m sure if I were staying here long term that the lack of rhyme or reason would potentially become frustrating, but for now I just shrug my shoulders and laugh…After all, this is Africa.

LOVE

I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of love and how love is expressed. At first I saw so many differences and almost a lack of love expressed here in Uganda. This observation was aided by my new friend Ronnie. He is in his late 20s and has never heard the words “I love you” come out of his parents’ mouth. He was never hugged. Never kissed. To this day the only “love” he has experienced has come from his aunt. Pastor Timothy says that all the children of Uganda are orphans. Parents don’t know how to love and care for their children. And if the parents don’t care, then to think that someone else should care or love the child is absurd. Most of the kids at Welcome Home were found in the trash piles, or left on a bus or in the taxi park. Little Adam’s mom left him with some strangers while she went to get them food and then she never came back. She walked away forever. It’s hard to see the love in that.

YET, the more I spend time in this culture the more I hope that I am beginning to understand it. There are incredible exceptions to these observations. And the more I spend time here the more I see what love really is and how much we are all alike. Yes, there are parents who are just wrong. Parents who don’t show love and hurt their children in incredible ways. Those parents are everywhere, not just here in Uganda. Love is expressed differently here at times because the situations facing people here are different. In America, for the most part, we are able to budget and know how many kids we can take care of responsibly. In Africa, you have as many kids as you can with the thought that most will die young due to illness and the more you have the better chance you have of some making it. And if you believe that they aren’t all going to make it, is it any wonder that some struggle with showing affection to their children? It makes sense that they would want to guard themselves from getting too attached in case the child dies. The problem with this mindset is what happens when they all survive? There is no way to support all of the kids and many parents are forced to send some away. I can’t imagine making that decision. Who goes? Who stays? Who will get to go to school? Who will be forced to stay and work in the fields? Is it not more loving to make sure that your child is fed and well cared for versus leaving the child to starve and die? Such sacrifice, such humility to be able to accept that you can’t do it and to get help for the child instead of forcing the child to continue to suffer. LOVE IS NOT PROUD.

People here have a tendency to pass White people on the road and literally offer their child to them. They want a complete stranger to take their child simply because they are white. At first glance that looks ridiculous and downright criminal…yet they know that their child would have more opportunity and better chances in America than where they are now. Isn’t love wanting what is best for another person? At first glance I look at all of the abandoned babies and I get angry. Yet the people who left babies with strangers or on the bus or in a taxi knew that the babies would be found and someone would hopefully do for them what they could not. LOVE DOES NOT ENVY.

Mommy Rose has taught me about sacrificial love. She is the head Mommy at the orphanage. She has 3 children and is putting them all through school. Her husband died shortly after her third child was born. She is a widow. She is a single mom. She is supporting three kids through school. She sees her kids once a year. Transport back to her home village would cost a month and a half’s salary and she can’t afford that. Her kids are raised by her husband’s family. Mommy Rose doesn’t get to see her kids report cards are help them with homework. She doesn’t get to hear about their day or be there to hold them, laugh with them or cry with them. Yet she Loves her children dearly and is willing to sacrifice everything to make sure that they have opportunities to succeed. LOVE IS NOT SELF-SEEKING.

I work with 40 Mommies who prove that it is possible to love children that are not their own. They had to learn how to love, but they have and they do. Jaja Lucy works with the preemies. She is in her early 60s. She was severely beaten by her husband and very near death when she came to work at Welcome Home. Her past could have made her rough and bitter and yet she choose Joy and she holds and rocks those tiny babies with a smile on her face and light in her eyes. LOVE IS KIND.

The toddlers are a handful. They are 40 strong right now and each one is clamoring for someone’s attention. The toddler mommies are incredible. I especially enjoy watching Mommy Irene. She’ll get the kids on the trampoline and then come up like she is going to get them and “eat them” and she tickle them until they squeal…once you do that to one child the others quickly start shouting “Even me. Even me.” So Irene spends time “eating” all the toddlers. I was swinging one of the kids the other day and true to form the other toddlers tried to climb on my lap for their turn. Mommy Irene had them line up and over an hour later, I had swung with every toddler laughing and squealing all the while despite the severe headache and backache that I was left with ;o) LOVE IS PATIENT.

“Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13
I am surrounded by people here who are showing this greatest kind of love on a daily basis. Giving up their lives in order that others might get to live theirs. Uganda has its problems but there are many here who have learned how to choose Joy and how to love. And since LOVE NEVER FAILS it gives me great hope for the brothers and sisters here that I have come to know and to love. I pray that I am becoming a woman who LOVES with the GREATEST KIND OF LOVE. I am blessed to be surrounded by such incredible teachers.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is LOVE.”
1 Cor. 13:13

Juliana

Juliana died this morning.

These past few weeks she has been declining rapidly and she no longer had the strength to keep fighting. Juliana had TB and full-blown AIDS. She was born February 14, 2006 and died October 15, 2007. Her mother sold charcoal for a living before she died of malaria. Her father is absent and his whereabouts are unknown. She is survived by her Jaja (grandma), her young aunt, and two brothers.

Juliana came to Welcome Home 4 months ago. In that short amount of time she was able to win over the hearts of the workers and volunteers alike. She didn’t smile or laugh often, but when she did…she lit up the room. She loved being held, and she liked to swing sitting on someone’s lap.

I had the distinct pleasure of knowing and loving Juliana for this past month. In such a short amount of time she captured my heart. I loved how she would snuggle against my chest and fall asleep. I loved how she would watch me and study my face. I loved to swing with her and sing over her.

It’s been a difficult day to say the least. Esther (Welcome Home Administrator) and I along with one of the social workers went to notify the family this morning. There are no words for moments like that. All I could do was hold the aunt’s hand and cry right along with her. There was a meeting this afternoon to inform the mommies at the orphanage. Again, what words are there to say? I wept and grieved and mourned with the mommies.

Eventually there will be rejoicing. Eventually the mourning will turn into dancing, the sorrow will become joy, and the tears will be exchanged with kisses. Juliana knew that she was loved and cherished and that is what is most important. She is no longer struggling. There is no more pain. The season of joy will come, but now is the time for mourning. Now is the time to grieve. Now is the time to cry.

The Islands

I have made it through probation! All volunteers are put on a 3 week probation before being allowed to continue to serve out their desired time. I know many of you were worried about my not making it through…my laugh being too loud, or a host of other reasons…but as of now, it looks like I’m going to be allowed to stay in Uganda until December!

Uganda continues to impress and amaze me. This week I have experienced an array of emotions. I have been frustrated, angry, sad, broken, humbled, blessed, joy-filled, and exhausted. This entire week I have been taking an oversized rowboat to the surrounding islands. In 5 days I have visited 7 villages and 10 schools. I’ve logged over 20 hours on the boat. I’m more tan and tired as a result :o).

If anyone is having a tough day, struggling with self-esteem, or just feeling unloved, they should come to Africa. Here, if you are white, you become an instant celebrity. Everywhere around the islands you here the children shouting “Mzungu, Mzungu or White person! White person!” They come and greet you on the shore and 5 children grab onto each hand and escort you where you are going. The schools knew that we were coming and prepared for us in advance. We were seated in chairs or on benches, most times the only furniture in the entire village, and were treated as the guests of honor. The children would sing and dance and they would have an entire program prepared for us. When they finished they would have myself and others share a message and teach the children some songs. We met over one thousand children this week and saw over 300 of them come to know the Lord. I taught many of them the song “I am a Friend of God” and they go crazy dancing to it.

My favorite village was Lwanika. They have not had a white visitor for six years. We were a day late in getting there and many had waited at the designated spot for almost 2 days. The students of the school performed their traditional dances, put on skits, recited a poem, and gave Tiffany and I each a necklace they had made. After every program in every village we were treated to an Ugandan feast. They would set before us: cabbage (my personal favorite), posho (similar to grits), matoke (a mashed banana mixture), fish, chicken, beef, chippati (thick tortilla bread), greens, rice, soup, beans, pineapple, avocado, and watermelon. At the places where we made a short visit they would offer us cokes and biscuits (cookie wafers). The humbling part is that many in the village did not have enough to feed their families. There were children who saw us eating who would not have dinner that evening. The desire for justice and fairness in me cries out against this preferential treatment. Why should I feast on what little they have when I have plenty? Why should they go hungry and my belly be full simply because I have white skin? In humility however I accept and understand that this is the culture that I am a part of for the next few months. I understand more fully the scripture that says it is more blessed to give than to receive. The pride that showed on the faces of the villagers as they offered us their best was unbelievable. While I was certainly blessed, they received the greater blessing. They were able to honor their visitors and in this culture that means everything.

One of the hard realities that I had to face this week was that because I am white, I am expected to be the solution to their problems and the answer to their questions. The sick of the villages were brought to me with the expectation that I would know what was wrong and how to fix it. The problems of finances and the needs for more money were brought to my attention with the hope that I would help them out. The village of Walumbe needs money to build a school on their own land, currently they are on government owned land and can be kicked off at any time. The Island of Nakalanga has a room about the size of most American dining rooms that is supposed to fit 180 students. It is a mud building and has no light. They need money to build more classrooms. The teachers of Lwanika do not receive a consistent salary because many of their students are orphans and cannot afford the school fees needed to pay them. I was surrounded by poverty and disease this week.

I met an 11year old girl on the island of Walumbe. Both of her parents have died and she was left herself to die in the garbage heap. An elderly villager took her in and has raised her but is close to death. The girl works in gardens to pay her school fees but only has the clothes on her back and if her caregiver dies, she will have no one. She was in tears telling me her story, asking me to help her. In America, there would be no question. I have the means, so let me help. Here it is a different story. Instead of it being an individualistic culture, here the focus is on community. I can’t help one girl on the island without offering aid to the entire village. I can’t bring her clothes and ignore the other children that have only rags themselves. I can’t give her money for school and ignore the many children that haven’t spent a day in the classroom for lack of funds. On top of that, she is an orphan. It could be very bad for her amongst the other villagers if she received preferential treatment. She has no rights to anything and it could easily be taken from her.

But, because I am white I am expected to fix it and make it better. In reality it would take about $100 to have this girl set for a few years and about $3-$5000 to get these villages on the right path, and to get them independent and self-supportive. It is such a small amount considering the blessings that I come from in America. But the need is great and it is everywhere. It is the one unifying factor of all the islands and of Africa as a whole. It is easy to become overwhelmed here and to feel as though you aren’t making a difference whatsoever. Yet, I know that for now I can freely give what I have. I can smile, I can listen, I can sing and dance, I can laugh, I can let them know that they are not forgotten, and I can pray. For now, that is going to have to do.

Pastor Timothy is the man who arranged all of our visits. He has been doing ministry on the islands for a few years now. His story is incredible. In 1995 he was elected as a chairman of pastors for 15 villages. At the same time he was beginning a family and was struggling with how to support them since he received no salary for being a pastor. He decided that he would stop being a pastor and instead serve as an officer in the government, whose job it was to pilot boats on the water and stop the smuggling that was happening between Uganda and Kenya. In Dec. of 1995 he was on the boat with 4 other officers when another boat approached and became threatened. They opened fire killing all the men on Timothy’s boat but sparing Timothy’s life. It was then that he realized that he was running from the Lord and he recommitted his life. He went to the police and reported what had happened and they charged him with murder of the 4 men! He was then sentenced to 1.5years before he would be able to appeal. He began witnessing to the other prisoners and asked for Bibles from any of his visitors. On day #28 he was miraculously released from jail and began his life as a traveling pastor. He is a very big man for a Ugandan and has a beautiful smile and a gentle spirit. It has been a great week getting to know him. He has given me a Ugandan name, which he introduces me by. I am called Mirembe, which means peace.

I have an update on my precious Juliana. She has taken a turn for the worse and was sent to the hospital in Kampala, 2 hours away. It is believed that she now has full blown AIDS. When she gets “better” she will most likely be transferred to AIDSCHILD, which specializes in children with her condition. My heart is aching for Juliana. I didn’t get to see her before she left for Kampala and I’m worried about her. She has no life in her eyes and I’m not sure if she has any fight left in her. I am praying that she does. It is crazy how quickly she has broken my heart and brought tears to my eyes.

It has been a long full week of ministry, but incredibly refreshing at the same time. It was incredible to see impromptu church services take place simply because someone came out of their hut with a drum and started singing. It was great to be reminded of the simplicity of the Good News and to see people hungry to receive it. It was incredible to worship in dust filled rooms without any light or sound systems and still meet Jesus there. It was fun to go with the flow instead of following a time chart and it was great to laugh at the fact that many here don’t even understand the concept of a smooth transition and yet seem comfortable with the awkward silences and the people up front talking trying to figure out what to do next. Don’t misunderstand me. I believe there is a place for all of it. I have just been encouraged and refreshed by this culture and have enjoyed the simplicity that exists here. While the days have been long and exhausting, I am beginning to feel my heart and my mind slow down. I am beginning to experience first hand a new and deeper meaning of my new name…Peace.

Stories

STORIES

I have been in Uganda for 13 days now. At times I feel as though I have been here forever because I have already seen and experienced so much. I am writing this from the orphanage…there is Sunday school going on a few rooms down and I can here the drums and tambourines. The toddlers are in preschool learning about shapes and colors. The babies are outside on the front walk, some are crying at the moment. There are a lot of sounds and activities going on in this place constantly. At times I find it overwhelming. I usually retreat to the preemie house when it gets to be too much and cuddle with the little babies. We got a new one this weekend, Resty, she is 6 mos. and weighs only 3lbs and 5oz. She is already looking healthier and smiling more.

We’ve made it out to the villages a few times now. There are evangelism teams that go out every day to the surrounding villages and put on a VBS for the kids. The kids look forward to the team coming every week. We will begin going to the islands on Monday. This will be a new endeavor for Welcome Home and it will be exciting to be a part of it from the start.

We went to Stella’s home last week. Stella is one of the night workers and is from the North. When she first got here she asked Mandy, the director, to pray that her family would die. They were stuck in the North, the rebels had ransacked their village, and there was nothing left for them. They were living in the bush under a piece of plastic for protection. Stella’s sister, Doreen (in the picture), was separated from the family when the rebels came. The rebels took their truck and ran over her body repeatedly and left her for dead. Two days later the family found her. Doreen cannot walk or do anything on her own, but amazingly no internal organs were damaged. She has no joints left and her bones have fused together. She needs replacement surgery on both ankles, both elbows, both hips, both wrists, and both knees. She is coming today to have new x-rays taken and they will be shown to doctors in the states in hopes that they will take on her case. There is a family ready and willing to host her if she comes to the States for the surgeries. She is 17yrs old and is a very smart girl. She teaches school everyday from 1pm-5pm to the village children that can’t afford the school fees. She then tutors the older children after they come back from school. I cannot imagine the horror and terror that Doreen has experienced in her short life. And yet, she is resilient. She is wise beyond her years. She is beauty beyond compare when she smiles. She lives and here that is the biggest weapon these people possess. Living despite the many obstacles they face that scream at them to give up and lie down…but they live.

We arrived at work last week and found out that one of the worker’s brother’s was murdered the night before. As we found out more of the story it turns out that he had murdered his wife and the village came and macheted him and threw him into the fire. There were no police to call. This is justice here in Africa.

Jean, one of the workers with the babies, is in her late 20s. She is full of spunk and is a lot of fun to be around. She has some markings on her face. I found out yesterday how she got them. She was a part of the genocide that took place in Rwanda. She is Tutsi and she saw both of her parents murdered in front of her eyes. How she got away, is a miracle in and of itself.

I am humbled and burdened by these stories. I feel an incredible responsibility to give voice to their stories, and yet I feel so unworthy to hear their pain and struggle. I have never know tragedy or pain like this before and yet somehow I am blessed to have the privilege to laugh and love and serve these incredible brothers and sisters of mine.

I have included pics of (Left to Right) Mommy Joy, Mommy Norris, and Mommy Kavina. These are the necklace makers here at Welcome Home. Thanks to many of you for your interest in selling these necklaces. I bought 400 from them today to send back to the States tomorrow. They were all hugging and kissing me and sending their greetings and thanks to all of you for wanting them. Mommy Joy will not have to worry about getting her meds. Mommy Norris will be able to put all 14 children that are under her care (her brother passed away and she now raises his kids) through school. Mommy Kavina will be able to put 8 kids through school. They will all have the money for transport to get home to see their families. As it is now, they live here in town and are able to make it home only twice a year to be with their families.

Some of the proceeds will go to help with the medical needs that present themselves at our gate everyday. We will be able to cover surgeries for children and adults alike. We will be able to pay for ongoing medications that are needed but not affordable by many in this community. We will be able to cover the transportation costs to get people that are critical to the large hospital in Kampala. The money will go a long way here in Jinja and lives will be changed for the better as a result.

The stories are plentiful, the rest, as of now, is limited. We did have the opportunity to go on Safari this past weekend. We traveled about 9 hours to Queen Elizabeth National Park. From our lodge we could see Zaire/the Congo and Rwanda. Idi Amin and his soldiers devastated the park during the end of his reign. They went into the parks and machined gunned down all of the animals they could find. Destruction for destruction’s sake. We were still able to see 2 lions and hippos, waterbucks, water buffalo, a lot of beautiful birds, baboons, and a herd of elephants. We had scary close calls with a Mama Elephant and a baboon. But…we are all alive and well, so that is good :o) It was fun riding on top of the vehicle going 40mph down the road and waving at all the kids on the roadside shouting out “Mzungo, Mzungo” which means “White person, White person!”

We had a big Welcome Home Party last night for all of the workers and children. The workers got gifts and a raise. The kids got special treats including cupcakes! There were balloons, party hats, lots of singing and a TON of dancing. It was great to experience the joy and laughter of all those that were there.

It looks like I am going to have plenty of opportunities to put my youth ministry experience into use here. Pastor Robert from the church wants me to meet with his youth director this week to plan some service projects, fellowship gatherings, and some Bible studies. Pastor Timothy from the islands wants me to preach at a youth crusade this Saturday and do some drama. I am praying for incredible insight and wisdom into understanding this culture that I am in. I am grateful that Truth transcends time and culture and look forward to these new experiences.

All in all, life is great here in Jinja. There is much more to share, but it will have to wait for another time. I need to make a run to the bank, kiss some babies and then go downtown for lunch. I hope all is well back home. Until next time…

Sobering Realities

Sobering Realities
September 18, 2007

I am officially a week removed from my life in America. I have settled in well here in Uganda. I have felt very at home here from day one, which has been such a blessing. While I can look at my surroundings and accommodations and joke about it not seeming like Africa whatsoever, I am reminded daily of what makes this place different from what I have called home my entire life.

This is Africa. I have fallen in love with a baby at Welcome Home. Her name is Juliana (she is the one in the picture). Her mother died at childbirth and her father is unknown. I was told by one of the workers that she never smiles for them. Yesterday I was holding her and singing over her. She was smiling and laughing with me…we took a nap together on the trampoline and then I fed her. Later in the afternoon she and I swung on the swings and she held my hand to her face and just smiled. I found out this morning that Juliana is HIV +. There is no telling how long she will live. Young children with AIDS is a newer reality here and therefore they can only guess. Being with her again today brought me to the verge of tears. Such beauty is locked away in her eyes. Such life. I pray constantly over her that the Lord would restore her brokenness, that He would turn her mourning into joy and that acceptance and life would be spoken over this child. I wish you all could hear her laugh and allow for your heart to melt as a result. I am different today for having known Juliana and for having the privilege of making her laugh.



Yesterday I was introduced to paper necklaces. They are handmade in Uganda and are quite beautiful. Some of the Mommies at Welcome Home make them and have them available for sale. I bought from Mommy Joy in the preemie house. Today we had a visitor from the States and I was telling her about the necklaces and she asked to see Mommy Joy’s…Joy had over 50 on her and the visitor offered to buy them all. They sell for 3000shillings which is about $1.75/each…Joy would receive 90.000shillings if all would sell. Joy couldn’t believe it. The biggest smile spread across her face. I went with her into the back bedroom and she asked if it was for real, would she really buy all of them…when I replied yes, Mommy Joy had tears in her eyes put her hands in the air and repeatedly cried “God, God...this is God, He is so Good”…I do not know why I was so blessed to be a part of that moment, but I was and I will never forget it. It is all the more special after knowing Mommy Joy’s story.

This is Africa. Mommy Joy was married for a long time but was never able to have children. Her husband gave her HIV and kicked her out of the house. She had nowhere to go and had AIDS…she found work at Welcome Home in the Preemie House and when she got there she immediately smiled and said that the Lord had blessed her with many babies. She makes the necklaces by hand at night after her shift in order to cover the cost of her medicines. Her selling those necklaces today means that she will not have to worry about affording her meds for a long time. Mommy Joy’s personality fits her name. I have enjoyed my time so far getting to know her.


This is Africa. Beauty wrapped in pain and hardship, disappointment and bitterness, all wrapped in beauty once again. You would never know the pain Joy has looking at her but it is there, it is a part of her and yet she has chosen Joy and to live no matter the circumstance or situation. I am living in a country that is filled with resilient people. All have been affected by the war in one way or another. All are affected by the AIDS epidemic. And yet, all that have crossed my path are strong beyond my comprehension, loving beyond my understanding, and fighting a fight that many would have checked out on rounds ago.

While I find my heart to be breaking here in the sobering reality of this place, at the same time I find that it is slowly being put back together. I have so long fell victim to the urgent, to the need of getting things done and the constant demands upon my time. So much so that I have begun to stray from my first love. I am discovering that love again here in this place. A place where I can spend my days rocking babies to sleep and causing Juliana to laugh and find myself fulfilled beyond description.

I was reading yesterday about deserts and how Scripture often uses the desert to represent a place of transition and/or testing. It was often a place where God’s people were challenged to obey and to trust God to lead them into the land of promise. My life since January has fit this description. Ever since I first began praying about coming here I have been in a “desert.” The crazy thing is that I haven’t felt dry or empty in fact I have felt the complete opposite. I realized last night why. One of my gifts is Faith, and while I used it often at home, it is used in a deeper way here. This desert time has allowed me and required me to rely upon that gift. It took Faith to leave a perfectly wonderful job that I loved and a ministry full of people that I care deeply about. It took Faith to trust that the Lord would meet the goal of $20,000 for this trip (Update: I received a call when I was in London from a family pledging the $500 that remained to be raised…so, the goal is officially met!!!), it took Faith to leave what was familiar and come to a foreign land trusting and believing that somehow this would all make sense and that He really was preparing the way in advance for me. I have become more fully who I was made to be as a result of this journey simply because my gift of Faith has been used.

This is Africa. She is beautiful. She is hard. She is already beginning to change me for the better.

First days in Uganda.



After 3 days of traveling we have made it to Uganda! We lost 3 of our bags and had extra time at the airport. Mandy (the director of the orphanage) had connections with one of the customs agents, Joyce. What a beautiful, kind, genuine woman. She got us through customs saving us around $600.

Uganda isn’t the “Africa” I was expecting. It is very lush and green. Kampala is a huge city and we spent some of the afternoon stuck in traffic. We exchanged our money and I became an instant millionaire…four times over. We ate lunch at the local mall…I know, right, where am I? The town of Jinja is incredible. The orphanage is 2 blocks from “downtown.” There is an internet café, post office, a few banks, lots of shops and restaurants. It is very “modernized” and easy to get around. In just a few days I feel very at home here.



Afterwards we went to the international hospital to check-in on one of the babies. Little Seth wasn’t expected to be alive today and yet he is a fighter and keeps hanging on and improving every day. His mother went crazy and didn’t feed or take care of him at all when he was born. He came to the orphanage incredibly malnourished and has been in the hospital for 3 days now. Please pray for his continued healing.


We received a very warm welcome when we got to Welcome Home. The kids are AMAZING. Within seconds they were in my arms and laughing and smiling…kids taking turns being held, wrapping their little arms tight around my neck…it took seconds for my heart to melt for them all.

We are staying at Arise Africa. It is one of the former homes of the evil dictator Idio Ammin. It is a beautiful place now run by a national missionary. It is a Christian home and it has been fun meeting those that are staying here. Ashley is here from S. Carolina and is doing an architecture internship. Pastor Rick is from Virginia and is here with Mission Link. I had an incredible conversation with him about ministry and passions and purpose. It was encouraging to both of us. The room is beautiful. I am not roughing it what so ever! I have a queen size bed and Tiffany has a twin (she offered, I promise :o) ). We have closet space, shelves, 2 small tables, a bath tub, running water, HOT water!!! The list goes on.



The food here is incredible. So far I have had a cheeseburger, fish sticks, chips (French fries), tilapia, an Indian Chicken dish, lots of pineapple (best I’ve ever tasted)…not a lot of traditional Ugandan food yet, I’m sure that will come soon. I’ll let you know if I still think that the food is incredible then.

Today, Friday the 14th, we had a full day with the kids. I spent a lot of time in the preemie house. I gave baby massages, changed diapers, fed them bottles, and rocked babies to sleep in my arms. Many were abandoned by their families, left to die when they were brought to Welcome Home. It was a joy being with them today.

I also got to sit in on 2 Bible Classes with the older children. We played instruments and danced all the while I had 3-4 kids at a time fighting for my lap. We learned about King Samuel and his wisdom today. Great fun. It was nice enough this afternoon to play with kids in the yard. Total controlled chaos. Both Tiffany and Nick were peed on today, I somehow managed to avoid that:o)…I’m sure that won’t last long. I have become “Mommy Rachel” to 55 children in a matter of one day. I am never without a child in my arms. I LOVE IT.




It looks like I will begin doing a lot of work with the village ministries and the youth there. I’m supposed to meet and talk with the youth director from Welcome Home in the next few days.

Thanks again to all of you for getting me here and for all of your prayers that are keeping me here. I have had no problems adjusting and have experienced great favor with the people here. I already have 3-4 new “Best Friends.” I can’t wait to see what all the Lord has in store for me in this beautiful place. I’m just taking it all in right now and enjoying every minute. More updates to come!

PS: This morning as I was getting ready in the bathroom there was a lizard in the sink. Not something that you see everyday in America…so I let him be hoping he would be gone when I returned in the evening…he wasn’t. So Tiff and I tried to scare him out of the sink only to find that he was dead! How a dead lizard got into my sink I will never know…but brave me picked that thing up, went to Nick’s room and threw it on him…Fun times!

Next Stop: UGANDA

I have no idea what time it is at the moment. I’ve been in and out of sleep for 2 days now and the time keeps changing. I do know that in under 2 hours I will be boarding the plane here in London and arriving tomorrow morning in Uganda!

The time so far has been restful and full of mini-adventures. We had approx. 20 Mormons on our flight who are headed to Africa for their 2-year mission. They will be working in Uganda and Ethiopia. We got to know a few of them a little as they were sitting in front of us on the plane. It will be interesting to see if our paths cross again.

We have been at Heathrow Airport for a little over 10 hours now. Praise the Lord for “quiet sitting rooms.” We were able to pull chairs together and get “good” rest off and on all day. Things are definitely more expensive here in the UK. Tiffany and I shared a lunch of spaghetti and salad and paid $40 for it. It was really good spaghetti:o)

We have been hanging out with a guy named Koren. He is from Nepal and is a world champion judo fighter. He is on his way now to Brazil to compete on the 14th for a chance to be in the 2008 Olympics. According to him, I look as though I belong in Nepal. It has been great fun talking with him and sharing stories back and forth. He is Hindu. It has been a joy getting to know him.

We have met up with Mandy, the director of the orphanage and her traveling companions: Val and Brad (they will be there for 2 weeks). It is going to be an amazing trip! My excitement is beginning to grow as our time to be there draws closer. I’m glad for that. I feel that as time and distance begin to separate me from America, the more I am able to focus on what it is the Lord has for me in Uganda. He is undeniably calling me there and He has faithfully paved the way and gone before me. I’m looking forward to meeting Him in the faces of the little ones that I will hold. I’m looking forward to being able to quiet my heart from the urgent and the pressing needs of fulltime ministry and rediscovering my first love. While the schedule will be full, it will be a different kind of full and I’m longing for that right now. Well…I should be getting to where I am going. Blessings to you all.

The Power of Story

The concept of story has been rattling around in my head for several months now. More and more I am becoming convicted that I need to devote time to learning and listening to other’s stories. I have seen first hand how listening to one’s story can give that individual worth and dignity and value, a feeling of importance, knowing that they matter, while at the same time have it begin to change my natural tendencies of summing people up with a glance and assuming that I know why they are how they are.

Stories begin to make crisis and disasters personal. The plight of the suffering and hurting is overwhelming and the needs at times are deafening to the point that one becomes paralyzed in how to help. But, when you meet someone who is suffering, when you listen to their story…the hurt and pain for you begins to have a face and a name. You humanize once again the tragedies that surround us.

I met Tyrone last December at a soup kitchen in New York. He had just finished his fourth plate of food when I sat down to talk with him. In a 45 min. conversation I found out about his childhood, going back and forth between foster homes. I learned that he left home at 16 and traveled to Indiana to work for the oil refineries. I discovered that he used to make a living driving a truck but lost his job due to a misunderstanding and was now without his trucking license, without a job, and without a home. Tyrone and I laughed together and joked around. Something that I have always known logically was made real to me that day: No one wakes up and decides to be homeless. No one aspires to homelessness and no one deserves to be homeless. My life has been very different from Tyrone’s, I wonder if I would have the strength to smile and laugh as he did if the roles would have been reversed.

In April I met a man named Ken down in New Orleans. He lost everything to Katrina. His family had all passed away prior to the storm and he literally had nothing. We met him when our group went to gut a few homes in his neighborhood. He was staying in a FEMA trailer with no water and no electricity. He still owned the family home but it was completely gutted and not livable. When I met him there was a shyness about him and tears in his eyes. He told us what had happened and we prayed. I gave him my bible and while it was a nice gesture and we could have left feeling okay about ourselves, it wasn’t enough…Ken was still in tears, still broken. My job that day was to pray through the neighborhood with some students. So we decided to invite Ken to come along and tell us all he knew about the neighborhood that he grew up in all his life. While he was reluctant at first, he was quickly persuaded and in the next 2 hours I saw transformation take place in the life of Ken. By the end of our time together he was telling jokes and funny stories. He was interacting with the students and smiling. We gave him some candy and water as Easter gifts and set up an Easter Egg Hunt strategy for him. We prayed again as a large group and the students began to load the bus. Ken pulled me aside before we left and said that we were the first people that had ever prayed for him and taken the time to listen to his story. He said that for the first time in over a year, he knew that there was hope.

The power of story for me lies in the fact that when we understand people’s stories we can better understand how to respond. I think so often in our Christian circles we are quick to offer a prayer and a verse and then go on our way…and while there is nothing wrong with either, at times I wonder if it is best. Jesus was a master at knowing how to respond. To the leper He offered touch and with that touch communicated more worth and acceptance than mere words ever could. To the widow at Nain, He offered his tears. To the crowd of 5000 He offered food. To the lame man at the Pool of Bethsaida He offered strong questions of challenge... He listened first to their need and responded appropriately.

I leave for Uganda in 3 days to attempt to train my heart to listen first to stories. I go with a desire to love and serve people well. I am going to hold babies and play hopscotch with children and my expectation is that I will meet Jesus there. I expect to meet him in the villages and walking along the road. My hope is that I will be different as a result of my time in Uganda. My prayer is that I would be more compassionate and more loving. I hope to learn better how to serve others well. I hope to rediscover my first love and take advantage of being truly dependent on Him again. I hope to laugh a lot. I hope to have incredible stories. I hope to cry and to feel. I hope to be changed.