lessons learned.

“Sometimes you’ll be surprised at how well people respond to honesty and perhaps it’s a good thing for them to realize that things aren’t very easy here, maybe it’ll be a way to share your world here with people at home.”

That’s what Dr. Andy told me today as I spoke with him outside the clinic. Dr. Andy is from England; he was here about 8 weeks ago and just came back today to visit the clinic. He asked me how I was doing and I told him everything, very honestly.

Some of you have been brought into the events of the last week (and month) and for that I am thankful and a bit sorry all at the same time. Especially for those of you who have had to listen to me more than others. (Again, very thankful for you and very sorry for all the time you’ve spent listening to me.)

I had a breaking point last Wednesday and decided to book an early flight home. I had prayed about it and thought about it, and even felt confirmed in the decision when one of the ladies I work with said she felt like God had told her the weekend before at her church conference that I was leaving early. It all seemed like a very good idea at the time. I had had a lot of physical issues that had come up in the past month that were simply stress related. Some were just chronic symptoms and then others were 24 hour in bed sicknesses. I was frustrated when the doctor told me that stress was the root issue because I couldn’t seem to do much to fix the situation. There were some stomach issues he gave me some pills for and told me that this was one of the major causes of my exhaustion/tiredness. Very quickly, the physical exhaustion turned into an attack on the rest of me—my thoughts and emotions. I felt like I was coming apart at the seams. I made a list of reasons for staying versus going home in the next two weeks and going home seemed to win. I thought it was all very logical reasoning, but I had also only had about 3 hours of sleep the night before. I had cried a lot up to that point, and continued to cry.

As soon as the day after this decision was made and the ticket was booked, I started feeling better. I was still a bit tired but overall, the rest of the symptoms were gone. I felt like I was thinking clearly for the first time in three weeks. Thinking that I only had a week left made me do things differently. I sought out the ladies I work with in their homes and in their places of work. I had some wonderful conversations with them and wondered why I hadn’t made regular visits to their home a priority before this. We talked about poverty, injustice, hardships, and about accepting the ways of God in all that comes our way. They encouraged me to go home and to try and sell their necklaces and if nothing else, to not forget about them.

After making this decision to go home early I also ran across one of my favorite kids from the center, Odong Albert. His whole cheek and lip were infected and badly swollen and he was crying from the pain. He didn’t have any money for the clinic. I took him and his father to the clinic that day for it to get cleaned out. I happened to see him the next day while I was on a boda and picked him up and gave him a ride in to the clinic again. I started thinking about how if I left according to plan, I may not have a chance to say good-bye to many of the kids.

Over the next few days I began to see that I had done this to myself in many ways. I believe very much in the connection between physical sickness and emotional well being. I finally saw that with all of the tough stuff that had happened since coming to Gulu, I had largely tried to shoulder it myself. I hadn’t taken a real break from the place since moving here and I had hit a wall that seemed impossible to climb or to push through.

And that was it, I had to stop climbing and pushing. I finally wept to God instead of crying to myself about all the bad stuff.

Perhaps this is too honest for a very public blog, but this is the real story.

I have realized very much in the last few days that I am not yet finished here in Gulu. I know I’ll be ready to go later on but I still need some more time to learn how Jesus loves. I’m not yet finished with the work here although I’m ready to step it down a bit. As much as I’d love to go home and hold my new baby nephew and to see my friends who still love me well from a different continent and to watch my wonderful baby sister graduate high school after working so hard from the 9 year old who didn’t speak any English, this is still it—I’m not finished here yet.

I’m sorry for those of you who thought you might see me in a week. So much of me wished to be there. But I am feeling good here, I’m still loving Gulu, and I feel so much healthier than when I booked that ticket. I know I’m not finished here yet and also that the time is coming soon enough for me to be home. If I left now, I think I would have many regrets.

If you could pray for me in the coming weeks, I would appreciate it very much. Grace is a lovely gift of which I have received much of in the last week but I stand in need of more. My eyes have been reopened to the beauty in this place amidst the hard stuff. My little neighbor boy was playing with a baby goat while trying to wave to me as I passed him on a boda today. He smiled his biggest smile and waved as quickly as he could with his free hand. I visited two of the ladies I work with in the market today where they sell their fried ants and sorghum. (One pictured above.) Their kids peeked out from behind their mothers’ knees to greet me. They’re absolutely beautiful. I want to keep appreciating beauty in the next six weeks.

Pray that the love of God would go deep in me, that the spirit of God would flow freely through me, and that the friendship of God would sustain me.

Thank you for loving me so well from so far away.

Self Portrait.

I was watching the fishermen (there's one directly above the word "wonder").

Good stuff from Henri.

My weekend was wonderful. I revisited some of the words of my favorite author, Henri Nouwen. This is the hammock I sat on for hours, overlooking the Nile. Wish you all could have such a weekend, it's incredible how we forget to rest and I'm sure a lot of you could use a little rest in your life.

Lately.

I’m back in Kampala again.

Kampala in all of its glory and all of its misery. Eating Mexican food and going bowling with a few other Gulu expats who are in Kampala (perhaps my best game ever—110), getting lost in the busy crowded shuffle of Kampala’s streets, fighting with boda drivers who charge way too much for poor service (they are at least 4 times as expensive as Gulu bodas), enjoying faster internet, brighter colors, and cooler temperatures; putting up with polluted air, noisy streets, and the (sometimes enjoyable) loneliness in a big city feeling.

I was fortunate enough to skip out on the long sweaty bus ride and got a ride from a friend who works for WarChild Canada. This meant air conditioning, no cost, and as much as 2 hours less on the road, (as well as good conversation.)

Saad asked me what’s coming next. Time is flying and June is almost here. Poor unsuspecting friends/acquaintances ask such simple questions and know very little that they’re opening up a two hour conversation on development theory, personal dreams, biggest fears, and so on. Good thing the ride from Gulu to Kampala is as long as it is.

This little question made me realize that I’ve been thinking a whole lot lately about the things that matter to me, what I believe in most passionately, and what part of the Big Story I’m supposed to play. I keep coming back to this quote by Fredrich Buechner,

“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

This place that he refers to sometimes keeps me awake at night. If a typical animal sound wakes me up outside my window too early in the morning, this is the thought that keeps me from rolling over and falling back asleep.

I told Saad I’ve pinpointed some of my fears lately. If I think about getting years more of experience in the field and potentially pursue a Masters Degree in a development-related field, I am investing a lot of time and energy into landing a position with (most likely) a large development agency. I’ve seen how difficult it can be at times to get such jobs. It will take a lot of determination to get there. More importantly, however, I have seen that I could very well spend another four or five years just to get a position and find out that I don’t necessarily believe in the mission that I have finally received. You see, I am not ready to put all NGO’s in one big group and say they’re worthless, ineffective, and a waste of resources. I have seen NGO’s (such as WarChild Canada) that are worthwhile and effective and fill a legitimate need in a community.

At the same time, I have seen a lot of wasted resources. I have seen how Ugandan students choose to study community development at University instead of business not because they care about development, but because they see that this is where the money is. I have seen how a post-conflict area can become ripe with dependency on NGO’s in the midst of all good intentions and foreign aid and hot programs that involve words such as “community-owned”, “sustainable”, and the like. I applaud organizations who seem to have the best current models of community development—I shudder at the thought that they may also be responsible for the same pattern of dependency down the road. I am often quick to judge, and then terrified by the fact that I often fit the profile of what I loathe so much.

I’m learning, growing, and searching probably even more than my days in college. (Somehow it’s a lot easier to figure out the world’s problems when you’re just reading books and writing papers.)

My newest topic that consumes much of my time and energy is thinking through the power of markets and what real economic justice looks like. I am continually amazed at the dignity a steady income gives an individual.

Temporary digression: *Irony? Coincidence? I think not. I have been skipping back between my email and typing this as I wait for an email from my director. Instead, I find an email from a family I have known for six years now in Uganda. They have a beautiful little boy who is severely handicapped and daily struggle to care for him—not to mention their inability to pay rent. They have just emailed saying they want desperately to start some sort of business, have been taught how to make paper beads, and want to meet soon to come up with other ideas. And how am I to respond? Paper beads are beautiful but no longer have much of a market in Uganda. And what am I to do now? Where does my deep gladness and the world’s deepest hunger meet? These are the things that fill my prayers and my quiet thoughts.

So this is where I am, exploring the ideas of marketing such products, bringing together my two worlds (Great Lakes regions of two different continents), even in the midst of a struggling economy. Just a dream? Maybe. But dreams sometimes turn into prayers and those prayers sometimes turn into reality so we’ll just wait patiently and see how God leads . . .

I made one of the best decisions I’ve made in a while. I’ve booked a small hut on the bank of the Nile in Jinja this weekend for two nights—it’s actually a retreat center I’ve heard about from multiple people now. I can’t wait to get away from the pressures and exhaustion from Gulu and the busyness and pollution of Kampala to a quiet place. (Oh, and to be on the Nile. That’s going to be pretty wonderful too.)

Much love to you all.