Rest and Soul Searching

     Mto Moyoni is a retreat center run by two ladies from in Jinja that holds conferences geared for healing of the heart and seeking the Heart of God. I was invited to go along by a friend of mine who graciously offered to sponsor my attendance. God is good. Little did I know how much I needed to get away and attend something like that. I realized places I had hardened my heart and areas I needed to seek or give forgiveness. Always a work in progress. So, I have a lot to be thankful for; the conference and respite; what God is doing here in Gulu; what God is doing in my heart; but mostly that He is there – a Comfort, Forgiver, and Healer. He makes all things new. I am hoping it sticks and I stay out of the hard hearted rut I had fallen in. Always a work a progress.

School - A Life Changer

She is now in school... She will not be the same. 

     We went in the morning. Apiyo now has a sponsor and is finally able to go to a school that has a program for the hearing impaired. Apiyo loves to study. She regularly attends the small Catholic church in her small village and has perfect attendance in the little class for unschooled children. In fact, she is very often found at the school hanging around, observing, and learning what she can. Her parents tried to send her to the local village school, but without services, were eventually told to keep her home. We arrived at her home. Over the course of two weeks we had met with her family and the school to arrange her coming. She was beaming, freshly showered, and wearing a new dress. Her family gathered a few belongings and what necessities they could afford to contribute. We waited on a mat in one of the grass-thatched mud-huts making up her home. Her mother wanted to finish cooking before we left. We ate a delicious meal of cassava, chicken, and ground-up white ants. Then, after loading her things onto the back of the motorcycle, we left for town. It warmed my heart to watch her take in the sights of town; the shops, large buildings, and paved roads all busy in comparison the the village life she just left. I was also relieved to see she understood what was going on and seemed excited despite having to leave home. We arrived at the school around lunch time, unloaded the required supplies we had purchased, paid the rest of the fees for school and boarding, and met her new teachers. They were sweet and welcoming. Apiyo took it all in. We partnered her with another sponsored girl in our program – an older girl from the same village who got sponsored a few years ago and was doing very well in school. Apiyo got a bed next to her in the girls' dorm. We visited a little while but wanted to leave before the rain. Apiyo was smiling and doing well. I couldn't help feeling a little sad leaving her there in a new place. I kept wanting to ask, “how are you doing? Are you sure you're ok?”, but I couldn't. Her smile and thumbs up said she was fine. If I feel this way after taking responsibility to transport a student, I can't imagine if it was my own kid. I am thrilled for her though and stoked to see her learn sign language and progress in school. I will have to visit again soon.

My Flesh and My Heart may Fail

So, It's been a while. Class has started full swing and is going well. The school classes seemed to take forever to actually get going (delay, delay, delay), but as they say, “TIA” – That is Africa. I can't believe I've been here five months already. It seems to fly so quickly. The last couple months have been a bit difficult. I went to Kampala a couple times to deal with immigration. It's like subjecting yourself to come kind of cruel torture – you go to find out what the next problem is, recognizing that there isn't really one. You just have to wait out the, “how many times can I make you come back” game. Does it give a sense of power to watch foreigners get frustrated in your controlled grasp? I did finally get the necessary letter from the NGO Board and took my file over to the Formal Immigration side. We're praying that it goes better now that I have a letter showing I've been thoroughly scrutinized. The school holiday unexpectedly proved a bit difficult as I slowly felt more disconnected from my work and most of my closest friends left for the holidays. I taught some classes and prepared materials for class, but without being with the kids the whole time I felt busy for nothing. I'm sure, however, that by the end of this term I will be begging for a break. I've been learning Acholi. I still can't hold conversation but I've learned a lot. Things make a lot more sense. The culture is also beginning to make a lot more sense. It's somehow surprising. Some of the behaviors I thought I would never understand are beginning to make sense. It is good to understand, but I hope that I am not simply becoming desensitized – I am still stubborn about my values. I've also been learning about self-care. They say its important. I still struggle with the concept, though I recognize it's fundamental idea. Besides being faced with my own humanity, emotions, and physical limitations (new ones like dust and inescapable unending heat and the African Sun), I've been getting emails from a creativity group I subscribed to on self-care and talked with another missionary who's been here a while. She warned me about recognizing my needs and being intentional about meeting them. She recognized mistakes made due to ignoring them, running out of cultural patience, and needing to now go home. I know it sucks when you refuse to learn something God is trying to teach you. He has to break you into the lesson. I don't want that to be me but I fear that is the direction I am heading. I just don't quite get it. It seems to contradict other values that also seem to be God given. I am a work in progress. I desire God and His will in my life even if I have to fumble around to get there. I'm not going to pretend I have it all together. He called me here; in His grace here I am, a work in progress.

Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. - Psalm 73:25-26

Grateful.

People Stories

A friend sits across from me in a standard plastic chair we borrowed from the store we are sitting out front of, telling me of his heart and dreams for the local street children. Having been on his own from a young age he is familiar with the scene and the struggle. He wants to get them off the streets and into school. He wants more for them than digging food out of gutters or stealing it, than curling up to sleep in a dirty alleyway, than abuse from drug dealers, than barely surviving, than growing up solely in stature... than being a street kid. They are children. Not only does he want it – he's doing something about it. It is contrary to his culture that says go to an NGO, get yourself taken care of, get lots of funding, and then do something. He loves Jesus. He seems to be willing to do as much as HE can. He recognizes that Ugandans can take an active role in taking care of their own – a seemingly unpopular idea despite the community tradition. But life still has requirements.

What role do I have in this?

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A friend who has helped with my Bible class in town came for a visit. He tells me a bit of his story of when he was a kid: His father got remarried. Is stepmother didn't like him. She tried to poison him and his cousin. He was saved having been miraculously not hungry at that particular meal and giving his portion to his cousin. His cousin became violently ill and died in the hospital where it was traced back to the stepmother. She got in trouble briefly with the police but it wasn't long before she was home again. This is when my friend became a street kid. After a couple months, his pastor took him in and sent him to school. After some time his father decided to take him back time home, promising he would be safer this time. He found the strength to go home and to forgive his stepmother. He is continuing in school, though he sometimes struggles with school fees. This is an incredible young man...

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She just kinda hangs around. I'm don't really know her story, nor have I met her parents. I have started asking questions. She comes to my Unschooled Kids Class pretty regularly. She is a bright girl. On Saturdays when we have Saturday Sponsorship Club you can find her at the school. Under the tree, around the corner, or sitting in a nearby classroom, you don't always see her right away, but she is usually there. We usually give her some food left over from the sponsored kids' lunch. In my Tuesday and Wednesday unschooled kids class she is attentive. She wants to do what the other kids do and is very observant. She is deaf. She can't recite the ABC's with the other kids but on Saturday when I found her hiding on the side of the building, she showed me the letters she had written in the dirt, “A B 5 4 2”. She was proud of them. Her parents had tried to send her to school but with 150 students, the level 1 teacher couldn't possibly give her the attention she needs. What strikes me about this girl is her softness, her desire to learn, and her self esteem. I don't think I have ever seen her teeth. As soon as she starts to laugh or smiles big enough to show teeth, a hand will immediately shoot up to cover – often both hands. She smiles a lot. She covers her mouth a lot. I don't know who or what convinced her she needs to cover herself, but it kinda makes me sad. I'm glad I get to work with her. I include her in class activities and games. She is excited to be involved and works to understand. We motion to each other in a universal “pointing to things” language. I don't know sign language but neither does she. There is a deaf school in Gulu but I doubt her parents could afford it since it is a boarding school. I'd love to see her there... The girl from my 2009 Unschooled Kids Class is in that school now thanks to a sponsor and was at the top of her class last term. Anyone interested in sponsorship?

My Constant

In a place of perpetual “goodbye's” to fellow expats here for short periods doing this or that, I am finding extra comfort in Hebrews 13, “I will never leave you nor forsake you” and “surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age,” Matthew 28:20.

Life, Love, and Culture

     I am so excited, this is going to be an interesting year. I keep getting the feeling that one of my roles right now is to learn. Learning is interesting.

“What is Love? Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more...” (yep, I clean to a disco cd)

     Somehow when I arrived I thought I would swing right back in to the groove I left in 2009. Long term minded living though is a bit different. I am now faced with the challenge of figuring out my place in this culture. I've had to mourn that without living in the village, I will never just be one of them - I'll always be the white wallet. There is a great community of other foreigners here. People need community. But I don't want to live an us/them mentality. I need true friends from everywhere.

     I get approached by people all the time who want to “be my friend” but whether you give it a shot or ask for clarification, what it actually means is, “I want you to pay my school fees” or “I want you to buy me things.” With so much aid having been poured in over a generation of war, the first instinct when you want something is to find a white to get it for you. Truth is not a cultural value so all sorts of things are said as the persuasion. Some parents would “abandon” their kids if there was an offer of school fees to homeless kids. It is difficult to sort through the most needy with the I just want life to be easier. I want to love – completely and without fear. I want to be willing to give whatever is asked (though not possible – I don't have a car to give nor a pill for your cataracts), but I feel like I am living among a generation that won't grow up until the aid crutch is taken away. Not to say that in many circumstances it is absolutely appropriate. Sometimes it is but staying dependent on the aid after the trauma is gone isn't healthy. NGO's are focusing on rehabilitation and development – sustainability being the key word. As a Christian – where is the balance? Am I really loving when I say no, sorry, I can't help you? It is a battle in my heart. How do I love? I am seriously a work in progress. I teach, for free, to anyone who wants to learn and take that knowledge to better themselves and their families. Knowledge keeps giving without draining the source. But what about my neighbors? And that guy in town? I aspire to freely give my all – where do I draw the line between helping others, and taking care of myself so I have the energy to keep going? How do I truly love this culture? How do I sort it all out?

     I thought I would find home with the local culture in a beautiful, ideal, romanticized traditional missionary kind of way. While I can minister to all sorts, it is hard to find who is a true friend. Turns out we need those. It seems I always want to think I can tough through without this or that no problem, but while I can survive it, is it really healthy? How am I more effective? Besides culture linking friends financially (not necessarily a problem until your skin color is labeled by that culture to be the constant giver beyond your actual means), there are different gender roles. Women often marry very early. Girls don't have as much opportunity to go to school, so fewer of them speak English. Women are the workers in a way that can initially feel to a westerner like unappreciated servitude. While culturally that isn't usually the case, it makes it hard for a foreign independent single woman (independent enough to move across the world by herself) to relate freely and well to the local married woman. I admire them and have a lot to learn from them but lack that connection of commonality and understanding. It can be lonely living in a foreign culture. So, I need both. I need local friends to learn from and be connected to but I also need friends that understand me- where I can feel free and get support. In time there won't be the same kind of need. Thankfully, I am not completely isolated from others of my culture. I am not alone in this navigation and neither are they. Both are ministry, both are necessary. Why do I always want to give but never want to recognize my own needs until I have to? Why do I have to need things at all beyond simple sustaining of the body? Why can't I be everything to every one... superwoman?

     In a culture that has been on the receiving end of aid for at least a generation with many generous short term foreign workers coming through, an expectation has been developed of what others will do and who they are. There is a separation that is hard to break down – hard to become equal. But my background IS different. I DO come from a different culture. Finding your place in a different part of the world, in a different culture can be hard and take some time. It will take time for me, I think that's OK... I need to remind myself that it is OK to take time. I am still learning how to love well and what that means in this culture. In the mean time, I am trying to respond well to the requests for marriage, money, and medicine from random strangers on the road based solely on the color of my skin.

     It's not the end of me. I love learning though sometimes the process is hard, but how else to we grow. I love being here. I love these children. I love the people. I love teaching. I love the adventure. I love the satisfaction of finally being where I am supposed to be. God will work it out if only I trust Him. He's a great teacher.

Divine Affirmation

When in the course of life one has to reevaluate their circumstances and all they think they know. It was one of THOSE weeks. What I know: God is good. He alone is faithful.
I have had to be stubborn, "this is what God asked - so this is what I am going to do", even when it took forever to get here. I have asked God before, "is this still what you want?" Each time it was confirmed.
Maybe it was because of the time of year, the holidays, the break from classes, the alone-ness, reminding me of what I miss. I was there again. I am now here in Uganda but as the electricity shut off, I was left alone with my thoughts. "Lord what do you want? Is this it? Help me." It takes time. Again He answers. Yes - He is taking me somewhere.
Somehow, this reaffirms EVERYTHING.