Lows and Highs

Not too long after I arrived and began settling in my place, I noted in my journal that missionaries must be crazy people. We leave behind all that is familiar and all whom we love to trek across the world (usually) in order to love a people about whom we have no idea. The people, the culture, and the norms are different. We want to be the love of Christ, but expressing love in another language is a challenge. We are juxtaposed in between the realization that our way of doing and living is not the best way, yet we often miss our comfortable and habitual ways.

In addition, there are preconceived notions of how we mzungus act, at least here in Mbarara. Many westerners stay here for short lengths of time, living as they please just for an "experience." As an agent of the gospel, I am called to live higher-for Christ's purposes and my pleasure in those purposes. Am I treating Ugandans like any other Westerner? Do they see me the same way? Am I just like a celebrity to these kids and even adults who yell "Mzungu" at me to get my attention?

There are days I when I wonder...not why I'm here (because I am certain God has called me here) but what on earth am I doing while I'm here. I mean, it's hard to see how one is useful when one scrutinizes oneself. It's easy for an evangelist like Billy Graham or even anyone working "in ministry" (by that I mean obviously in a church) to come home and know he or she has proclaimed the gospel. It's much harder for someone like me working dually as a minister of God's grace to the weak and weary along with a job in the hospital. I feel sometimes like I'm an undercover agent for God. I shouldn't feel like this. Why is it so hard to integrate my speech about Christ when I'm stretching the legs of a person with paraplegia? Well, I think I can give one answer among many...(1) the language barrier. When I can't speak in the vernacular about God and my patient doesn't know English, all I can do is demonstrate his love.

It's funny how dreams may reveal the subconscious. I used to have a recurring theme of being in the U.S. with anxiety about returning to Uganda by a certain date, without being to recall ever flying home. Or there's the one where I may not graduate for missing a biology senior course for 2 semesters while I'm in Uganda. I have graduated in real time, so I have no idea what that's about.

As Christmas nears, I'm missing the festive holiday season. From what I've learned, Ugandans do celebrate Christmas on the day of and maybe the day before. They stuff themselves with all the foods they normally eat and even the ones they can't normally afford (like meat, especially chicken which is pricier than beef). Families get together in the villages they come from. Even bus tickets going away from the city double in price at Christmas just because the company can't lose the profit from an empty bus headed back to Kampala. As far as decorations, some do the interior of their houses, but seeing a home or business's exterior lit up with lights is something I haven't experienced here.

I just read a beautiful email from my sister. It even brought me misty eyes. It's such a trap to think I'm self-sufficient. She unknowingly reminded me of the blessings of encouragement.

Last night I went to sleep around 4 a.m., which is the latest I've been up here. Lou and I had a fun party and squeezed about 20 girls into our houses, mine for the meal and hers for the movie(s). It was a blast but I didn't relax from being a hostess until movie time--then I enjoyed myself. See Lou's blog for more about the evening. Most of the girls study at the university and attend a book/Bible study with us. Two girls, Viki and Diana, really helped us with planning and shopping in town and even setting up. The juice they made was, as Susan Boyett called it, "amazing juice" (all fresh from passionfruit, pineapple, oranges, mangoes, papayas, etc.). Besides the juice, my other highlights of the evening were hearing them all laugh out loud at the movie and taking a group pic.