I never cease to be shocked each time one of you reminds me that I haven’t written on here for a while. It means that you actually read what I write (and that’s what surprises me.)

I often start writing a blog post and quit because I have too many things I want to write about, and then I never end up posting anything. I’ve concluded that this time I should attempt covering a lot of topics and do my best at being concise (not an easy task for me.)

Here goes . . .

The Holidays.

Different. Relaxing. Not as bad as I thought it might be. I missed seeing my little niece and nephew discover Christmas gifts since they were still pretty young last year to really appreciate it. But I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Mukono spent with people I shared a semester with last year—a couple of fellow students and the directors for the study abroad program (who also have two beautiful kids.)

The Work.

Challenging. Exhausting. Inspiring. Coming back to Gulu and facing the dry heat and the scorching sun is always a challenge. But then hearing one of the kids yell my name on a bike while I was on my motorbike and then slowing down so we could talk (in our limited shared language) while riding next to each other was wonderful. (That was not a concise sentence). Such small moments like that can so quickly assure me that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. I had a similar moment today when I decided to ride on the back of a Lorry with the Parents Group. (Don’t worry mom, it was not a long distance. And very, very safe J.) I’m really starting to love the families in this community, even though I’m so far from really knowing them on a deep level.
Most of my time is now spent building up the handcraft group, trying to market their things locally and internationally, meeting with them weekly and discussing things like creativity and quality and praying hard that I don’t screw anything up along the way. But you’ll also find me writing newsletters, taking pictures of a Heifer Project exchange visit, scrubbing equipment as we open up the new clinic, and networking with local NGO’s. I’m quite sure I’ve never worked so hard before. I’m also quite sure I’ve never enjoyed work this much, despite its many challenges.

The House. (And new roommate)

Almost Finished. I was up early Friday morning moving my things into our new place. Even though there’s no power hooked up yet, I’m still happy with the decision. It’s very near the clinic and the community centre—my little moped (which I should probably name) doesn’t have to work as hard to reach the place. I think my new roommate, Anna, will appreciate the decision too. Anna flies in on Wednesday. I can’t tell you how excited I am to have her here. And since we’re still looking for roommates, we have a nice, unfurnished guest room for you to stay in if you care to visit.

Friends.

In Gulu? Not many yet, unless you count my four year old neighbor that still comes and visits and seems to love me even though our communication is limited. Of course I’m becoming friends with the people I’m working with in the community too. But as far as those deep friendships go, I haven’t acquired too many along the way. But I guess that’s what is helping me reflect; I’ve spent a lot of time lately thinking about the solid community of people I have at home that I love and respect and really miss.
I had two of my closest friends of 7 years get engaged within about 4 days of each other around Christmas. I was waiting for this to happen, but it’s still a really big deal. I am so happy about the men they’re marrying—I can’t imagine not being happy about someone who is going to spend the rest of their life with your best friend. I only wish I were there to hear them tell the stories in person (Especially Esther because she’s a very expressive story teller and I haven’t heard many details yet.)
I’m appreciating the gift of my friendship with Alicia more than ever these days. Even as we’re a world apart, her carefully chosen words come at the times I most need them. She often reminds me of our friends words that we spent so much time with this summer—Henri Nouwen. I miss our times together with the three of us at our local coffee shop but I’m especially grateful for modern technology when it comes to this area.

The War

Never-ending. Once again, the newspapers here are full of headlines highlighting the most shocking details of Kony’s most recent killing spree. Around Christmas I think the numbers reached over 500 killed by his rebel army. (And for the record, these were outside the borders of Uganda—in DRC and Southern Sudan.) There are many opinions around the tactics of the UPDF’s attacks on the LRA. I was pleased to see U.S. Senator Feingold’s criticism of the operation in the Newspaper today. Since I’m trying to keep this concise I’ll leave out the rest of my opinion at this time and simply ask for your prayers. I’m often praying that fighting will never return to Northern Uganda. I need to start praying more for the innocent victims in the DRC and Southern Sudan who are currently suffering from the LRA’s attacks.

My Heart

I’ll try not to make this too personal for those of you who don’t know me well.
Physically, my heart is probably not getting enough exercise—at least it’s been added to my New Years Resolutions.
In every other way, however, I think my heart is getting plenty of exercise—it seems to cover such a wide range of emotions and dreams and heartbreaks, sometimes all within an hour.
You see, at times your heart really does break over untold suffering you witness, or hearing stories that are almost too devastating to believe they’re true.
And then at other times, your heart breaks because it’s not being broken over the disparities you see in the world. You suddenly realize you’ve accepted that things are just the way they are, and that it’s too tiring to acknowledge suffering around you.
I have been known to suddenly let out a soft but vocal sigh—whether surrounded by others or seated alone. That’s usually when the place in my heart for my niece and nephew takes over. It usually happens when I see another boy or girl their age and wonder how tall Isaac and Laney will be when I get home. I miss them so much.
For some reason, my heart often swells with gratitude around dusk each day in Gulu. No matter how exhausting the day was, this particular time of day manages to still the voices of to-do lists and worries and puts my life and my existence in perspective. Perhaps it’s the expansive sky. It’s always there but you’re busy hiding from its scorching rays during earlier hours. At dusk, you can’t help but try and take it in. The temperature is perfect, every scene seems like it would make a beautiful photograph or postcard. Vocabulary is failing me. I wish you could just come and experience it for yourself.

My heart has been especially difficult to manage in the last week for some reason. It turned into an opportunity to be very thankful for a God who can handle such matters even when I can’t.

In Conclusion

Turns out, this post wasn’t so concise. I have plenty more to tell you but it will have to wait until next time. Thanks for making it to the end.