Waka

Nawabango, Uganda. How do I explain such a place?

It’s the village that stole my heart from day one. The village that made me feel welcomed and a part of their community. The village where my Ugandan brothers and sisters come to be educated while also learning more about Jesus. The village where I learned how to play net ball. The village that taught me how to be present right where the Lord has me. The village I tried porridge for the first time, and might I add I won’t be trying it again. The village where I laughed so hard my stomach hurt because of my friends, Rachel and Chrissie. The village where I took my first bucket shower and used a squattie. The village where I watched movies on laptops and played Uno with some of my favorite kids. The village that showed me what genuine generosity looks like. The village where I met, Obbo, the most encouraging security guard I could have ever crossed paths with. The village that taught me how to sit like a true Ugandan woman. The village where we are constantly “doing the Lordie’s work” by eating food, riding bodas and taking naps. The village with too many poisonous caterpillars but the best mangoes I’ve ever tasted. The village where we had a dance party in our room with lots and lots of glow sticks. The village filled with soccer, cassava, and monopoly deal. The village where my sponsor kid, Thomas, and his family live. The village with no napkins. The village I found freedom and hope in. The village I got matching dresses made for myself and a beautiful 10-year-old named Gloria. The village that proved to me that Our God reigns everywhere and always.

This is the village that has become my home.

It’s only been a couple of days of being back in America and I must admit, I am struggling. There is no point to make it seem as if it’s rainbows and sunshine. It’s not. The re-entry process is hard, especially when you have found a new passion and love that you can’t explain for a place 8,000 miles away from you.

America is so much easier than Uganda. I don’t have to put on a skirt every time I must go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I don’t have to filter the water I plan on drinking throughout the day. I don’t have to keep my bags closed so bugs don’t crawl in them. I don’t have to sleep with a mosquito net so that I don’t catch a deadly disease. I don’t have to walk 45 minutes to get a decently cold soda. I don’t have to plan to set aside 2 – 3 hours on a Saturday to hand wash all the clothes I own. I don’t have to hope that the water won’t stop running while taking a shower. I don’t have to worry about being woken up by the rising sun or the roosters cooing at 6AM.

There’s the truth, America is easier than Uganda but I miss the village. I miss my life in Nawabango. I miss my home.

I wish I could put into words the emotions I have been feeling the past 3 days of being home, but I can’t. I haven’t even been able to process all that the Lord has taught me, shown me, and allowed me to experience these past two months. It doesn’t feel real to me. I don’t feel like I’m back in America. It’s honestly a lot to handle and super overwhelming, especially when people are constantly asking how my trip was. Although I am confident that the Lord has a purpose for bringing me back to the States (I will be writing a blog about that another time), I am still struggling. Satan’s lies are louder than ever. The lies of feeling like an outcast in a place I grew up in. The lies of feeling lonely in a place filled with people that love me well. The lies of feeling as if I’m wasting my life by sitting around watching television or sleeping in past 7AM. I can obviously distinguish what is a lie from Satan and what are the truths from the Lord, but I still need help.

and this is my cry…

I need my friends and family to try and understand that I don’t have a lot of things to say right now. I am in the middle of processing the past two months and I really need my friends and family to be as patient with me as I will try to be with each of you once I start talking about the things I learned and experienced. I don’t want any of my friends and family to think I don’t want to talk about my summer or have nothing to say. I want to, I really do. I just need to get my thoughts in order. Quite honestly, I’m scared and I think this is why I am crying out through my blog rather than a text or phone call. I am scared that if I don’t tell my friends and family something now then they won’t ask me again later, once I have processed everything and ready to talk. I want to share all I have experienced, I just don’t want people’s expectations to be shot down when all I can answer right now is “my trip was great!” Yes, that’s true. Don’t think I’m lying when I respond that way, but there is so much more to the two months I spent in Uganda than it just being “great.”

So what I’m asking of you is this, pray for me and you. Pray for my heart and mind as the Lord shows me and allows me to process all that has happened the past two months. But also pray for your heart and mind to be opened and softened to the conversations we will have in the future. Pray for understanding and patience on both ends of the friendship. Rebuke all lies and fears, while soaking up all truths and encouragements. I thank each of you in advance for the prayers and the patience you will show me. Each of you are awesome. Nkwagala nyo!