One Year Anniversary

While I was in Colorado, the one year anniversary of my arrival to Bundibugyo came and went. I’m pretty sure if you had told me on September 29, 2010 what the following year would hold, I would have been far from convinced.

I wouldn’t have believed that I would be sick most of the 6 months I spent in Uganda. I wouldn’t have believed that after exhausting the medical resources there, I would return to the U.S. for a (1 month) medical leave. I wouldn’t have believed that 2 months later, I’d be diagnosed with thyroid cancer. I wouldn’t have believed that by September 29, 2011, I’d have had two surgeries and a radioactive iodine treatment and spent a total of 6 months in the U.S.

Despite my bent towards desiring to know and attempting to control the future, I think God clearly knows best and it is a good thing I didn’t know what this past year would hold. His grace is present, even in the not-knowing.

I still have a lot of questions about the last 12 months. I certainly don’t understand a lot about it and the big “Why?” questions will probably only be answered in Glory. My life has returned to some level of stasis but the moments of grief and loneliness occasionally resurface. God is already showing me ways that he is redeeming my suffering and I have hope that those will only continue to abound as the years pass by.

I’m learning to plan my life in chunks of weeks (and maybe months) but certainly not a year at a time. Cancer does that. I don’t know if my scan a year from now will be clear or not. But, I’m finding the freedom that comes from living in the now and hoping that my receptivity to the Holy Spirit will follow from it as well.

A passage that I shared with my home church when reflecting on the past year is Lamentations 3:13, 19-22. It says:

“He shot his arrows deep into my heart. The thought of my suffering and hopelessness is bitter beyond words. I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over my loss. Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: the unfailing love of the Lord never ends! By his mercies we have been kept from complete destruction.”

“Daring to hope” has become a new phrase of meaning for me. Sometimes hoping seems crazier than despairing. But when I remember the neverending love of my Lord, He gives me the strength required to dare to hope.

Step into my time machine!

Blog posts have been popping up in my mind for the last month or so but with all of the travel I’ve been doing, they were filed away. Now that I’ve landed in one spot for a while, they can be shared!

So I’m going backwards and I think the first thing I’d like to write about is a little side-trip I took in Colorado when vacationing there with my parents in September. It’s crazy how God works these things out. I won’t go into every detail, but over a year ago as I was going to pre-field training in Colorado, someone introduced me to Light Gives Heat (www.lightgivesheat.org). I visited their website, thought it was cool that they were working in Uganda, bought some necklaces as gifts. The End.

Or not. When I got back from Uganda, I remembered LGH and after ordering something else from their website, I noticed that their return address was Grand Junction, CO—not far from where we’d be vacationing. So I took a totally random thought and emailed it; I told my story and asked if I could come visit when I was in the area.

God worked the rest of the details out and I was able to spend a day at the LGH offices in Colorado. It was a great time of encouragement, just being around people that had a connection to Uganda. It was awesome to see their behind-the-scenes operations and to see the heart that the Houslows (the founders) have for Uganda.

Here are some photos:

A peek at the “warehouse”

With Morgan

Dave and Morgan, the founders of LGH.

Above all else, my visit to LGH’s headquarters made me want to peddle their wares! This is a great organization that provides  vulnerable Ugandan women with meaningful work (designing and making jewelry/handbags) and a steady source of income (if you buy jewelry or a handbag, the money goes back to the women). So—pretty please, check out their website. And think of Christmas gifts!

Nomad again

I just wrote a post and my iPad deleted it. Boo to technology. Try, try again. Also, sorry for the lack of spacing--iPads may be smart but they must not know how to work with blogger formatting. Anyway....... It is a bit ridiculous that it has been a month since I last wrote a blog post. But I have a decent excuse, I think. For the last month, I have been traveling non-stop and I am writing this in an airport even now. This nomadic lifestyle is what I craved and wished for this summer as I rotated between my bed and the couch at my parents' house. I often wondered if I would get to travel again. Thank you Jesus for making me well enough to be a nomad again! Anyway, 4 weeks of continuous movement have made blog updates low on the priority list. But, I've done some fun and interesting things so I will give you a month in review below. I promise to add photos later, which will make this much more interesting :)

Stop 1: Elysburg, PA with my parents and sister's family to visit Knoebels, an amusement park our family has visited since my Mom was a kid. It was fun to see the park through the eyes of my little nieces and nephews and to ride some of the classics too. Highlights: the haunted house with my Dad and the Flyers with my sister.

Stop 2: 24 hours in Maryland followed by a week in Philly at the WHM sending center. Working on Christ School sponsorships and updating some highly confusing and out of date records (Uganda tends to do that to record-keeping). Also helping with the recruting department and enjoying community. Weekend highlights: attending Jesus, Bombs, and Ice Cream (google it) with co-workers and cooking Ugandan food with a co-worker and friend. Both yummy events!

Stop 3 and 4: 24 hours in MD for a doctor appointment, a weekend in Philly for the WHM picnic and church, another 24 hours in MD, and then to Virginia to visit my future teammate Pamrla Stephens! 3 days with her included lots of chatting, a visit to the zoo (and dancing with a flirtatious monkey), and a fantasti. Avett Brothers concert. Answering her questions with my little bit of Bundi knowledge was a boost and being with people that are going or have been there is always an encouragement. For pictures from my visit with Pamela, visit her blog here. Pamela is just one more reason I am excited to get back to Uganda--she arrived there today!

Stop 5: A full 48 hours in Maryland (!) followed by a long-awaited vacation to Colorado with my parents. It was gorgeous as I think that state always is but the aspen trees were all bright yellow and breathtaking. Personal highlights: having the physical strength to take an all day hike and seeing amazing views and fulfilling my dream of going horesback-riding in the Rockies!

at Pike's Peak

beautiful aspen trees were changing color!

with our wonderful hosts, Al and Marty!

Stop 6: Three days in MD to pack up and move to Philadelphia for the next three months to work out of the office until I return to Uganda in January. I have spent the last week here in Philly and have enjoyed settling in, getting remarkably lost downtown, and then triumphing the next night in my attempt to attend a small group downtown!

Stop 7: I am now in the airport at Charlotte, NC waiting for my connecting flight to Fort Myers, FL. That will take me to ECHO (www.echonet.org) where I will attend a week long class about integrating agriculture into community health in 3rd world settings. I'm hopped up on sudafed (fighting a cold) and coffee and ready to go! 2 months ago, I didn't know if I would be able to travel again, let alone move back to Bundibugyo. But God is proving himself faithful--he didn't call me to Uganda and missions work just to say "Never mind." And even if he had, I believe he is still loving and good. As I look forward to eventually returning to Bundi and it seems more real as I feel better each day, I pray that God will use my experience for good--to change my heart, to give me new compassion for those that are hurting, and to understand the desperation that comes with living in a broken world. I hope ECHO is just one practical way for me to implement the myriad of things I've learned here in the U.S.

One of Those Days

Today has just been one of those days. It actually started yesterday when I had trouble falling asleep (which I’ve had way too much experience with the last few months). I woke up this morning, tired, groggy, joints achy. My hair was misbehaving and everything I tried on looked wrong. My brain fog kicked in and it took me over an hour just to get ready. I totally forgot to pack a lunch. I was running late and as I gathered my stuff up, I noticed my bright orange cell phone holder, which is conveniently attached to my keys.

Apparently noticing it was not enough to actually make it get into my bag. I ran downstairs, firmly shut the locked door, and hoped that I had remembered everything I’d need for the day. (Yeah, right) Got to my car—no keys in the bag. What?! This must just be “purse panic” and they’re buried somewhere in my bag. Nope. I emptied my bag out onto my car hood twice. No keys. No cell phone. Locked door. Quite a conundrum, right?

I remembered that my Dad had put a magnetic key case under my front bumper somewhere when I first bought my car at age 16. It’s been 6 years and I never needed it. Now can I remember where it is? If anyone was watching from their home window, I’m sure it was quite a sight. I’m in a skirt, crawling around my car, looking underneath, praying that little black box will show up and save me.

I don’t see it and I give up for a few minutes, sitting on the curb, looking equally ridiculous. Should I knock on a neighbor’s door and ask for help? Should I just start walking to the office? Should I just hang out on the Barnette’s back porch all day? Thankfully my “can do”-Africa personality came through (and the Holy Spirit helped too) as I wracked my brain for where that key case was supposed to be. I decided to get my hands dirty and start feeling around underneath the front bumper of the car.

Lo and behold, I felt a little plastic box and after yanking on it—found it to be the box of my salvation (just kidding; nothing heretical here)! Again, if anyone was watching or listening, I’m sure they were entertained as I did a little dance in the street and yelled “Thank you Jesus!”.

A year ago, I’m pretty sure this morning would have set a frazzled and annoyed tone for the whole day. But perspective changes, thank goodness. Instead of panicking, I found myself praising Jesus for being with me in a sticky little predicament. I wasn’t particularly bothered by the whole thing because in the full realm, it’s not even a blip on the radar. Much worse things have happened. And I also found myself praising Jesus because the whole situation proved that I had begun living again. a) I had somewhere I need to be b) I had the energy to get out of bed and get there and c) stress is proof that you’re alive. If you have a completely stress-free life with no sticky situations, you are either not living, you’re in denial, or you have the most boring life ever.

So as strange as it may sound, today I am thankful for getting locked out of my car. For seeing a change in my perspective and for seeing life again. And of course—as I arrived triumphant at the sending center, the elevator refused to work  :)

Wishing for Omnipresence

If I could have a super power wish list, I’m pretty sure omnipresence would be high in the ranking. I’m highly skilled at not living in the moment and being discontent. I’ve learned that I am a future focused person, which can be channeled for good, but often leads to me fixating on “what ifs” and continual anticipation rather than joy in the moment. I’m also quite good at being discontent—aren’t we all? Whether it is over something as small as wishing you could indulge in a food craving or wanting an entirely different life, we all experience different moments and levels of discontentment.

Right now, I wish I could be about four places at once. Probably more if I had the option (I’ve always wanted to visit Greece and Morocco :) Anyway, of course I wish I was in Uganda with my team, serving and living that crazy lifestyle that makes most people cringe a little. I wish I was in Kenya, with Anna and Jessica right now, experiencing a new part of Africa but mostly just being with them. Right now I’m in Philly and I don’t want to leave, despite the appointment I have to be home for on Thursday. And no matter where I am in the world, I always have a wish in the back of my head to be in Maryland with my family.

I’m pretty sure a large part of being a missionary is learning to be okay with feeling torn between a lot of places. I think it certainly makes me look forward to glory in our True Home—a place with all who are in the body of Christ; a place of total contentment; a place without tears; a place with an omnipresent God.

Paradox Continues to Ring True

Today I sit in a Panera, on the outside looking much like a typical 20-something American. Earbuds in, listening to the Avett Brothers, wearing jeans, mascara, and flip flops with pedicured toes. I edit photos of my nieces and nephews that were taken a week ago at an amusement park—family tradition since before I was born. I peruse facebook and finally decide to look at some photos from the interns’ summer in Uganda. It hurts, like I thought it would. I download the most recent version of iTunes. Sipping iced coffee, chilly from the air conditioning and the cardigan goes on. I sit alone, ignored by the majority of white faces around me.

Rewind exactly 6 months. I walk along a dusty, bumpy road to the market. Sweaty and sticky, long skirt swishing, hoping for a breeze. Toes have dirt between them, heels so callused they laugh at the prospect of a pumice stone. I ignore the staring eyes, greet some fellow pedestrians and thank women carrying massive loads on their heads “Webhale milemo”. I expect the shouts of “Mzungu!”, “How are you? I am fine!”, and “I love you!” and practice selective listening. I leap out of the way of massive lorries barreling by—if they are speeding unsafely, I shout and wag my finger. I peek into Bahati’s shop to see if she is there; we chat. I enter the market, searching for green peppers, knowing it will be like looking for a needle in a haystack. I haggle, refusing to pay 25 cents for a shriveled little pepper.

Rewind another 6 months exactly. I move in a bit of a frenzy. I have about two weeks until I leave for a place I’ve never been. It’s got a great name though—Bundibugyo. Packing, frantic emails with lists of questions, trying to preserve memories with friends and family that can last for the next two years. Struggling to enjoy last moments in America, grieving good-byes, facing the total unknown. So busy I choose to ignore the dry mouth and trouble I’ve had swallowing lately. It’ll go away on its own.

I’m not sure what the scene will look like if I was to fast forward 6 months from now. I guess that’s something I’m learning—God guides my steps, even if they end up going in directions that I don’t expect, want, or to really painful places. And right now, each day is one step—where it takes me, I don’t know but I think it’ll be okay.

G-nut Sauce and Bodas

Okay…time for a little break from the attempts at spiritual thoughts while having trouble stringing words together to form sentences. It kind of feels like those nuclear medicine doctors snuck my brain out while I wasn’t looking. Supposedly my eloquence will return—we’ll see!

I’ve decided to go with a list post since I’ve always been a fan of them. And now that my brain is in a continual fog, they’ve become pretty imperative! So the list for today…drumroll please…

Things I Miss About Uganda

>groundnut sauce, Asita’s cabbage and Krest bitter lemon soda: Upon arrival back in the U.S., I wanted steak and seafood. The other night, I had my first Ugandan food craving—I miss that peanut sauce over rice, the smokey cabbage, and I could really go for a Krest :)

>boda rides: They terrified me the first couple of times but I miss hanging on the back of the motorcycle, wind through my hair, sun beating on my back, and watching the beautiful landscape whiz by. I even kind of miss the kiddos yelling “Mzungu!” from the side of the road.

>the mountains: I love Maryland and the beauty found in water (which is everywhere!) and long expanses of flat cornfields. But I miss the mountains of Bundi jutting up everywhere you look, catching a glimpse of them when the storm clouds roll back or the sun rises behind them. God’s majesty is undeniable!

>pizza night: I remember feeling sweaty, sticky with bug spray, and generally a little gross after most team pizza nights. A shower was a must before bed. But, they were awesome too! Pizza has never tasted so good or been so creative; I’ve been kind of disappointed by it here in the U.S. And of course the company was pretty great too :)

>Chuck and a gin and tonic: Yes, I’m a missionary who occasionally enjoys an “adult beverage” :) I will fully admit to loving the nights when Anna and I would make ourselves a little g & t and cozy up on the futon to watch Chuck. A mindless, cute, and addictive TV show about a regular guy turned special agent. Pure bliss.

>Singing in church: Once I could at least differentiate between Lubwisi and total gibberish, I had fun trying to sing along in church. It was a huge accomplishment to even follow along in the hymnal. I missed worshipping in English while there but I miss worshipping in Lubwisi with drums now.

>Friendly people everywhere you go: Sure, some people were a little more friendly than I would have liked (ex. Men shouting “Mzungu! I love you!” from the side of the road). And it was easy to be frustrated by the inability to go anywhere without talking to at least 10 people along the way, 10 more at your destination, and 10 more on the way back. Not exactly efficient. But, I hate how I can go to the store here in my car and come back without having spoken to anyone, if so desired. Of course, I don’t do that but I kind of miss the uber-friendly norm.

>The people: I could probably write 100 pages about this topic alone. My Ugandan friends. My team. The relationships that became my life and are now cut off by distance. I pray for them often and hope they know they are not forgotten!

I could keep going and going but I’ll stop here. Bundibugyo often feels very far away. But no matter what happens, it is a place that will always be close to my heart.