Church

As I chatted with a friend in America last night, I was asked how church is these days.  So here's my story...

Since arriving back in Uganda about 9 months ago now, I've been a church hopper.  This is very different from the last time I was here because last time I spent much of my time at United Faith Chapel at Kampala International University.  I love that faith community and I love being a part of university ministries.  Something was different for me this time though.  I think many factors have played a role in my hopping. For one thing, the ladies from my discipleship group have all graduated and gone back to Kenya.  I've only been able to see a few of them this year when they've been around on holidays.  My heart misses that sweet group of young ladies.  For another thing, my roommates during this past school year attended a church downtown pastored by a great guy, the father of some of the students at Heritage.  I went there a few times with my roommates and a student from HIS.  Another factor has been working with so many different cultures at the Centre of Hope means visiting churches of my students.  It's really been interesting actually.

So anyways the church I attended the most last time has gone through a change in leadership in the past 5 or 6 months and it's been a bit rough on the community.  The pastor that had been here for years went back to Kenya and was going to be traveling back and forth frequently, but that just hasn't been able to happen.  I think that the people left in charge over here became very overwhelmed with the new responsibilities and commitments.  AND obviously it's always difficult for a church body to go through a time of transition.  It's been a tough season for them and it's been tough for me to see.  On one hand I don't believe we should be so dependent on our head pastors that it's rough when they are reassigned, however I do recognize that we all get very attached to great pastors so accepting the change can be difficult.

Alright, let me tell you about church this morning...

I woke up with just enough time to grab a quick shower, throw my hair up in a ponytail, wrap my knee (in preparation for the 5-story climb to the church's meeting place at the university), grab some bread and peanut butter, and be on my way.  I called my boda driver who is almost always available on Sunday mornings, especially when it is cloudy and cold like this morning.  I hopped on the boda and we cruised on over to the university.  I paid him and started the walk down the hill, onto campus.  The charcoal-grey clouds were looming and very menacing looking.  I mentally prepared myself for a wet boda ride home, thankful that I had remembered to throw a scarf in my bag.

As I approached the parking lot I didn't see any of the other missionary's vehicles and was a bit surprised.  There's usually at least one other family there.  I didn't mind though, it's sometimes fun being the only mzungu around.  I climbed the stairs and when I reached the top (pitifully out of breath) I noticed how few students were actually there.  Then realization hit that this weekend there was a spiritual retreat and most of the students were still gone on that.  So I sat down with the approximately 150 people that were there and settled in for the sermon.  Right after the announcements were finished and the speaker began the message, it began to pour.  I'm not just talking a little drizzle, I mean an all out downpour.  It was so white outside that I couldn't see the next building.  We meet on the top floor of the building so the sound was loud enough to drown out the sound of the speaker.  With my already bad ears, I knew there was no way I would be able to make out a word of what he was saying.

So I pulled out my Bible and began where I left off reading in 1 Peter.  With the noise of the rain and the drone of the amplified voice that I couldn't make out, it was hard to concentrate.  I plugged one ear and began to read aloud the words of Peter.  The first chapter is a call to absolute holy living, to turn completely from your old life and walk forward fresh and new in Christ.  By the time I had read and meditated on those words the rain began to slow and I could start to hear a few words here and there from the speaker.  The first two words I could clearly hear him say were, "be holy."  From there he explored a few different passages, ending with Jesus taking the wrath of God so we don't have to.  All in all, a good message.  I'm thankful for time to read on my own and also for time to hear to Word from the speaker.  

The rain now at a steady, heavy drizzle I had to decide whether to wait it out or move forward.  I decided to call my boda and begin my walk up to the main road to meet him.  With my scarf covering my shoulders and my head bowed, I walked up the hill.  There was a tent to stand under near the road, so I wasn't completely soaked by the time the boda arrived.  The drive home was pretty frigid feeling to me which reminded me that in 3 months I'll be living in a subzero, icy tundra again.  I'm shivering just thinking about it.  So I'm home now, in dry clothes, sitting under my blankets, enjoying the sound of a church still worshipping down the hill.  Some churches go all day and this one just down the hill from me is no exception.  There's a very joyous sound to the beat and it's evident that they are loving praising Jesus this morning.  :)

As for me, if the sun comes out I'll be outside getting some reading done this afternoon, if not I'm satisfied sitting in bed all snuggly and warm.  At some point I have to run to the market because the only food I have is bread and peanut butter... I have to warm up before I can hop on another boda in the rain.  I also have grad school research to do.  I'm still not sure where I'm going or what I'm doing for certain, but I'm definitely leaning towards a Christian counseling degree.  Very practical for my work as a missionary with youth and refugees and with youth ministry in the States.  We'll see.  First I think I have to take the GRE, which I'm dreading.  I've been out of school for far too long.  Prayers welcome.  Happy Sunday! 

My Kryptonite

The evening was off to a rough start.  Our bass player was sick, the keyboardist was unavailable all of a sudden, and I was one of 4 people singing.  Somehow all of the other singers were inhibited by traffic.  It was obvious that satan was working to prevent us from having a good, focused worship evening.

People started trickling in and taking their seats.  The instruments and mics were set and we were ready to go.  After a time of prayer together we took our places as a team and the praise and worship began.  With only one practice under our belts and many song changes, we were essentially winging it.  Thankfully the level of talent on the team is incredible, so I wasn't too worried... for the others.  I, on the other hand have always had to try really hard to just be decent, it's not effortless for me like it is for the others.  

I've been leading worship since I was about 15 or 16.  I've always been pretty comfortable standing in front of people, but I've never been confident in my skill level.  I can lead and sing for about an hour before my voice grows weak due to the nodes on my vocal chords.  At that point my lower range is non-existent and my upper range is in jeopardy of cracking.

As the only girl singing soprano and sometimes the only person carrying the melody, I began to worry about my voice.  Before I could get too distracted and forget why I was standing up there leading for two hours, I began to pray.  After praying and bringing my focus back to Jesus, it was easier and much more peaceful. 

And then it happened.  After one of the songs I opened my eyes to see a giant, black, cricket just feet away from me.  This may seem like it's no big deal to some, but crickets (bugs in general, but crickets are the worst!!) are my kryptonite.  I began to panic.  My heart started racing and I couldn't focus on anything, but getting away from that cricket.  There's no telling when it might come at me.  I began to plot my escape immediately.  If I just shut off my mic and walked off maybe they would just assume I was sick or something.  

I had quite a few options for escape routes, but before I could flee the Spirit reminded me why I was there.  I was reminded that satan didn't want this evening to happen.  He didn't want a crowd of people to come and join us, to stand and worship the King of Kings.  He didn't want Christ to get any glory.  Walking off the "stage" as one of the only, or the only person singing melody just wasn't an option.  So once again I prayed and while I never took my eye off of the thing for too long after that, I was able to stand there and sing.  To lift up my hands and praise my Creator.  One of the next songs we did after that little demon was sent to destroy me was "It is Well."  It was beautiful to be able to stand there with this creeper creature taunting me and proclaim that it was indeed well with my soul. 

The evening ended about 20 minutes later my voice was almost completely gone.  Never once during the two hours did it crack or sound weak.  One of the youth who was at the event (she had been sitting in the front row and is very aware of my affliction to bugs) came up to me to lovingly let me know that the disgusting bug had been literally right next to my shoe at one point, but I never saw it because my eyes were focused on God.  Thankfully... or I definitely would have had to flee!

Worship night with Studio_10 at Heritage is an event that I've yet to miss participating in since I've been in Uganda.  The first worship night we had was in December of 2008.  Since then the studio has grown is both size and popularity.  I'm blessed to be a part of such a talented group of people who accept me as I am.

So that's my silly story this week.  You can laugh if you want to.  I completely understand that my intense fear of bugs is ridiculous, but I can't seem to shake it.  I'll hold a snake, swim with a shark, or play with a mouse or rat, but bugs make me want to run away screaming and crying.  Don't judge.

Decisions... decisions...

I have just over three months until I get on a plane to head home.  First of all, yikes!  And wow!  This year has flown by.  For the past week I've been seriously thinking about the future and what the next year might possibly look like.  I get easily overwhelmed because there are so many options in front of me.  Would you join me in praying through these options?

One option is to come home, work for 5 months or so and then come right back here independently to continue my work with refugees.  This work has stirred my heart and I've become very passionate about working with refugees... especially youth as I know I'm called to work with youth in some capacity.  I would also start an online program to get my masters degree, probably in counseling.

Another option is to apply to the MD program (check out wgm.org for more info), fundraise and come back in about a year and a half with WGM.

Yet another option is to stay home, work, and start my Masters at an actual school instead of online.  There are many options rights now as far as schools go.  I'm looking at one in Chicago, one in Indiana, and one in Mississippi.  There's one in New Jersey with an amazing youth ministry program, but the cost would be nearly as much as my undergrad at IWU.  Now, with my Masters I also have a lot of things to choose from.  I've been highly recommended to get a Masters of Divinity, though my original plan was a Masters in Youth Ministry.  I've recently been thinking about my work with refugees and a Masters in Counseling, specializing in refugees and PTSD would be incredibly helpful for that work.

In any case I would like to start my Masters within the year.  So I'm trying to figure out if online will work or if I'll need to suck it up and stay home (in America).  Of course some of this is contingent on another person, when/if (and hopefully soon) I get married.

SO, in essence I have lots of questions and lots of decisions to make.  There are things that I want, but I don't know if they're best.  So at this point I'm praying about the next step.  I need to make a decision soon because if I'm coming back to Uganda sooner rather than later I'll need to fundraise and figure out how to come back independently.   If I'm staying in America I'll need to start applying to grad schools/seminaries.

This is what's occupying my mind these days.  I'd appreciate prayer.  My preference for these options change daily.  Tonight, going to IWU and living in Marion is winning... that is, until I think a bit longer and realize that means being out of Africa for at least 3 years.  :(  Oops... back to the drawing board.

Extreme Baller

You all know that I'm an extreme baller, right?  Riiiiight.  In any case one of my favorite things to do is play volleyball with the Sudanese guys.  This picture is from one of our last games before Lino and Angelo left for Canada... I'm hidden behind Hussein, who's wearing the grey shirt.  Anyways, this past Saturday evening I went over to play.  We haven't played in such a long time because with the guys in Canada, Shelah hurting her foot, and the others back at boarding school there haven't been enough of us to play.  Shelah is finally good enough to play and Saudi and Hussein were around, so we got some games going.  The court we play on is in their front yard, on a down slope.  It's steep enough to roll down... like a child.  :)

We played Americans vs Africans and were pretty evenly matched.  Jade, Shelah, and I vs Hussein, Saudi, and Meron.  After about 4 games played to 25 points, Shelah sat down to rest her foot.  Lidya took her place on our team.  I normally play in the back because of my height deficiency, but I moved up to play front with Jade while Lidya played in the back.

That's when it happened.  We had a pretty good volley going, but Lidya hit it out on our side.  In an attempt to save it I turned and leapt down towards the ball to hit it back inbounds over my head to Jade.  As I leapt I must not have calculated the slope correctly.  I was looking up at the ball coming over my head... and when I landed on my right leg, my knee hyperextended and I heard a "popping" sound.  The pain was immediate and I was down.  In case you're wondering... I did hit the ball, but the play ended when I hit the ground.

I sat there holding my knee, trying not to give into the temptation to shout.  How embarrassing!  But I was assured that my attempt at least looked good.  I sat with ice on it for about 10 minutes and then I tried to stand.  I was able to put weight on it and walk up the hill with the help and Lidya and Shelah.  I was supposed to be meeting some friends for dinner, so I hopped in the car and headed off.  I drive a manual vehicle so the constant shifting and letting on and off the gas didn't help the pain, but I made it to the restaurant.

The verdict is that I've torn a ligament in my right knee.  I'm not sure the extent of the damage, but I do know that it's pretty weak right now.  I've been icing it and trying to stay off of it.  I also have an ace bandage which helps support the area where the pain is.  It's a major bummer because even riding a boda hurts a bit and I normally walk and ride bodas during the week.  I am thankful, however, that I didn't hurt it bad enough to where I couldn't walk.  I can move and get stuff done, just at a much slower pace.  Right now the worst part is knowing how long it will take to heal.  I just want to get back out there and play volleyball... I guess I should work on walking first though.

So if it's not stronger in about a month, I'll go have it looked at.  The most important thing for you to remember is that I hit the ball back in and it's because of my extreme ballin that I got injured.  :)

News

Check out this story and continue to pray for this region and the nations of South Sudan and Sudan.

Real Danger

"Gunshots in the night. Bombs rocking the earth. Running for your life. Where's my family? Did they survive? Will I? War. Endless war. All I've ever known since I was a child is war.

It's just a way of life now. The choice to join the fight was easy... if that kind of choice is ever easy for a child of 13. Fighting for freedom, fighting for rights. Fighting to see an end to the oppression of thousands, if not millions of my people. Fighting so that when I have kids they can be free, educated, and maybe even well off. Fighting so that life can improve. Fighting so that we can simply stay alive and see another sunrise over the African savannah. Fighting because there doesn't seem to be any other choice.

The worst of our danger used to be the lions, hyenas, crocs, hippos, and snakes. Now the danger comes from our fellow man. Guns are heavy when you're 13, but I would never have admitted that at the time. We trained, learned tactics, and became machines. Machines with one function. We were trained not to stare into our enemies eyes and just to fire. Seeing the eyes makes it worse. I don't know the number of people who fell to my bullets, I don't want to know. We were trained that the lives of our enemies were worthless. I learned to shoot a gun before I ever learned how to ride a bike, before I learned much at all about the world. My education stopped when I joined the army. What's the use in finishing school if you're dead before you graduate? I made it through 3rd grade before the war came close to home.

I'm now 27 and in my junior year of high school. I'm a former child soldier; a man now in the eyes of the world, but I was a man long before most."

So I wrote this tonight because of a dream/nightmare I had early this morning. It was so real, I was there. It's been in my mind all day and I just can't ignore it anymore. You are all aware that I'm friends with some former child soldiers from Sudan. These guys are my brothers and I love them very much. This isn't any one of their very different, very specific stories. This is a combination of what I've been told by them and many others like them. The thought of writing a book has run through my mind many times, but I don't actually want to gain from the horrific knowledge and pictures that fill my brain. I simply want to raise awareness.

You guys, there is fighting in the Blue Nile region in (North) Sudan. I know I mentioned this in my last post, but as I chatted with one of the guys recently the situation reached a new level in my mind. Their families have fled. One doesn't know where his father is, the probability of his life being over is very high. The guys are stressed and upset and how could they not be? One of them seriously mentioned going home to help his family... leaving school and entering a war zone. This isn't just any war zone, it's a place where they are being hunted for their affiliation with the "rebel" army of the South. Those affiliated with the South are being captured, tortured, and killed.

When he told me he wanted to go home my heart started pounding as if it were trying to escape from my chest. Knowing that my student from the Centre and one of their fathers has already been captured does not leave me much hope that the same won't happen to him too. I started to feel nauseous at the thought of loosing a brother. In all honesty I panicked a bit. There's no doubt in my mind that if he goes home right now, he'll be killed. Sitting here in Uganda, not knowing if he was safe or not would drive me crazy. For him, not going home is betraying his family. With the possibility of his father being dead, he's now the oldest male in the household and is expected to take care of the family. The family that he's not lived with since he was a child, the family he's not seen lately. He feels obligated to drop his education and go. He knows the risk, but denies it.

The war in Sudan and South Sudan is not over. Fighting continues, lives are being lost, and people are once again fleeing their homes. It's too real. The second that one of them mentioned going home was the second that my world view changed. I wasn't content with their past, but the chance of their future being a reflection of their past is not ok. History repeating is not ok.

Please join me in falling to your knees for Sudan and South Sudan. Lift up these two nations, and all war torn nations to the Lord. People that you don't know and probably never would have come in contact with are dying. Guys and families that I love are in danger. Very real danger. The greatest danger though, is that they don't know Jesus. Plead for their souls with me. Pray for truth to be revealed and for hearts to be softened to the Word. Pray for them to see visions... many Muslims have come to Christ through visions. Pray. They have heard the truth about Jesus... pray for acceptance. Pray for peace in those nations, pray for peace in their hearts as they're "stuck" in school. Pray. Pray for safety. Pray. Please.

Different

Different. That's the word I would use to describe this term here in Uganda. Not bad, but very different. Last time my focus was on my students and the youth at Heritage International School and my lovely bible study ladies from Kampala International University. I spent most (if not all) of my time building and nurturing relationships, caring for people, and loving on them as much as I could. This time I've spent a lot of time working behind the scenes, if you will, on various projects for WGM. On the side I've been teaching ESL to amazing refugees at the Centre of Hope and I was hanging with the youth at Heritage for a while too. Well now that Lino and Angelo are gone and I'm not rooming with any teachers, I don't feel connected to Heritage at all. It's a very strange feeling to be in Kampala and not have a reason to hang out at Heritage. They now have two people working with the youth at the school and I definitely don't feel needed there. Also, not being a teacher there it might be weird for me to just be hanging around a bunch of teenagers. (don't want to be too much of a creeper, you know?)

My relational outlet comes when I'm teaching at the Centre and I'm so very thankful to be a part of the ministry there. Nothing brightens my day more than walking onto the compound and being greeted by at least 5-10 of my students who are just hanging out, waiting for class to start. I recently reconnected with one of my girls who has been given the chance to go to school... she was on holiday and visiting the Centre. She, out of no where, came up to me to say thank you for the things we learned in reading and writing class. She said the practicality of it has been extremely helpful and she's grateful for me. When you're having a rough day, what more could you want to hear to brighten it up? I felt very blessed to be a part of God's work there. I'm teaching a new class there now and some from my other class have transfered into my new class because they like my teaching style. Its just amazing to me.

I've also been able to still hang out with the Sudanese guys a lot. We've had some really good conversations and we're still learning a whole lot from one another. Their school holiday is over now and they're all back at school. All but one of them goes to boarding school so needless to say it's quiet around here... especially since Lino and Angelo are in Canada. :( Unfortunately, as I'm sure you've seen me post on facebook, the region where the guys are from in Sudan is intense and very dangerous with fighting. One them has a father who has been captured by the government in the north for being associated with the "rebels" in the south. It's very messy and very scary. Even one of my students from the Centre of hope has been captured. He was a child soldier with the south, like my guys, and was home visiting over the school holiday. We've not heard anything since we heard that he was captured. There are many uncertainties right now and my guys are all struggling, not knowing how their families are doing. Most of their families have fled. Thousands have fled to Ethiopia. The guys just began their last term of the school year. It's vital that they do well in order to move up a grade, and one is in line to finish and graduate in November. Please pray for their minds and hearts as they are in school, unable to communicate with their families. Pray also for their souls and for them to come to know Jesus as their personal savior.

Lino and Angelo are adjusting and doing well in Canada. They both tried out for and made the varsity soccer team in their first week of school. No surprise there at all. However academically it's already proved to be a bit of a challenge for both of them. Angelo skipped a grade here in Kampala and is short on credits. Both guys are having to take extra class (hard classes) in order to graduate on time in June. We've skyped a few times and it's always so good to see their smiling faces. They are certainly very missed here. I was at Heritage for an event on Friday night and it was my first time on campus since they left... it was definitely NOT fun without them! Anyways, I'm so very proud of them and I'm looking forward to seeing them in the near-ish future. Depending on where they are for spring break I may go visit them. If that doesn't work I'm going to try to go up there in June for their graduation. Pray for them as they continue to adjust to life in the west. Pray for the minds as they are stretched to new levels academically. Pray for their hearts and mental statuses being 9,000 miles away from home and 2 of a total of 4 black people in a giant school. As always pray for their souls. They need to know Jesus. I've been praying for Godly men/friends to show up in their lives in Canada. Join me.

So anyways I'm not sure where I was going with this, other than to say that things are very different right now. I'm still in love with this place and count myself very blessed to be living here and experiencing this part of God's cast creation. Most days, there's no where in the world I would rather be. I love going to the grocery store for something as simple as eggs and finding chicken feathers in the carton. I love hearing the crazy birds squawking at each other all day long. I love watching the sunrise over Lake Victoria through the morning fog. I love taking boda rides instead of driving when I want to zone out and enjoy the beauty of this place. I love seeing the beauty in nearly everything that I'm surrounded by. What a glorious gift from Jesus to be here. Thanks be to God.