Putting It All Into Focus Pt. 2

Being back in America is hard.

I shouldn't be complaining. Once again I have access to running water that I can use to wash, brush my teeth, and drink. I have electricity. Air conditioning. Grocery stores for food. Multiple clean shirts to choose from in the morning. Soap.

The people we met in Uganda would think I am crazy for saying it's hard to be back with all those "things" that make living comfortable. While those things are nice to have back, it doesn't fill me up. In Uganda, life isn't about things. It's about people. And loving people. I miss the genuineness. That is the biggest theme I am griping with with. Genuineness.

In Uganda people hold hands all the time as a sign of love and friendship. They hold your hand as you converse with them. They look you in the eye. Handshakes last a good 30 seconds, instead of 2. They prioritize you over their schedule. It doesn't matter if they are late to the "next thing" because at that moment, talking to you and being with you is more important.  In Uganda people laugh and laugh and laugh. And smile BIG smiles of pure joy at the smallest things. And sing songs and make music on all occasions. (I hope reading this paragraph is making you smile, because it makes me smile!) Ugandans know the value of hard work. They don't complain about getting their hands dirty, earning their wages on a hot day, or sore muscles. And man, do they know the value of education. Education is appreciated, sought after, and seen as the ticket to a better life.

 

(I mean...look at that smile!)

 

(Students receiving scholarships to go to school with their proud father.)

 

(Ken teaching us to make bricks- this guy does this all day!)

I want to be careful not to sound negative, because we are so lucky and blessed to live in America. Our country is very privileged. I am so grateful to have had access to education, work, food, shelter, a family who could support me, etc. Our lives would be so different if we were born anywhere else. And we did nothing to choose where we were born or to deserve or earn it. That's almost what makes it even more difficult. The suffering people we met in Africa did not choose to be born into their situations either. Yet, there they are. AND...they still find joy. How do we justify that?

It's a question I am having a lot of trouble with. And having done mission trips before, I knew I would be. I expected these emotions and these thoughts to come, but it doesn't make it any easier. It's hard to feel this way, but I also don't want it to fade. Sometimes it's important to look darkness in the face. That's how the light shines through. I want to remember how blessed we are so that God can be glorified. And I want to remember what we saw so that we can continue to tell the stories; so that we can at least shine a little light in the darkness. And so that we can remember just how far we've fallen from God's intended plan for us. Because seeing and hearing those stories first hand just gives you this overwhelming feeling of 'this wasn't how it was supposed to be.'

(If we feel this heavily about the handful of stories we saw, I think about how our Father and Creator must feel. If we would just turn back to Him, it's that simple, we could get a little closer to what He wanted for us all along. "Tell the people: This is what the Lord Almighty says: 'Return to me,' declares the Lord Almighty, 'and I will return to you,' says the Lord Almighty."- Zechariah 1:3)

At the end of the thought processing, I can't come to a good answer about any of it. I'll just have to ask God someday. The only thing I can come back to is how much more grateful I am for Jesus. I am grateful He came so that we have a way to know our Creator. So that children who are born to a life more difficult than we can imagine can someday be at peace at home with Him. And I am so grateful He is coming back to make things right again. I am grateful He says "So the last will be first, and the first will be last" (Matthew 20:16), so that little Patricia in Lagutu, who gets nothing but scraps from her family of 20 because she is so sick, will be FIRST to walk the golden streets in Heaven and get a big hug from Jesus. That gives me hope and gives me comfort.

One thing I can answer is, "So what am I going to do about all this now?" Well, a couple things come to mind:

• I can work as hard at my craft as the Ugandan's do. And as passionately at the Sports Outreach staff in Kampala and Gulu do. I can see every moment as a chance to make an impact as they do. 
• I can learn from Brenda in Gulu, and do as she did and not wait for others or for resources, but just GO with a sense of urgency and serve in whatever way I can: be it at church, at home, at school, etc. 
• I can show and tell my students about how precious education is; let alone, music education. And how music unites us with people all around the world. 
• I can make an effort to love as genuinely as they do; to look people in the eye, invite people over for fellowship more, and do it even if I am not receiving the same in return. 
• I can cherish my husband, who is a Godly man that serves his family, which many men in Uganda don't do. 
• I can pray. Sometimes that doesn't seem like a lot, but it is. The staff in Uganda prayed before and after everything. And the fruits of that are tangible. So I can pray for my new friends and African family, for Uganda, and for people around us to see a change and want to know why. 
• And most of all, I can thank God time and time again, on any and all occasions. And for giving us this opportunity of a lifetime. 

I do hope that you get to go back with us someday. Your life will be changed for the better. And you will make friends across the ocean who will be your friends forever. And then you, too, can join us in telling the stories. Because stories can change people. And together, people can change the world.