Weekend in Uganda

Finishing up at training camp was spiritually powerful and emotionally, we were all ready to be in Uganda to start what God had called us to do. Leaving at 4pm American time, we arrived in Entebbe Airport around 9pm Ugandan time the next day. It was rough to say the least and hard to land at night after sleeping for so long to only have to go back to sleep but we made due.

We met our missionary host in the airport and proceeded to head outside to drive to his home. The first thing I remember is the smell. Very similar to Afghanistan – burning trash, pollution, serious B.O. I cracked a smile as we walked through the parking lot and immediately started having flashbacks to my time in Afghanistan. Good ones, not bad ones.

15 or 20 minutes later, we pulled into the gated compound where the missionary and his wife, Jesse and Andrea, lived. Absolutely breathtaking house and such a blessing to the Touch the World Uganda ministry. Piling all of our stuff into our rooms, we bedded down for the night to rest before a day of briefings and tours of Kampala.

As we woke up the next morning, my first memory is making my way into the kitchen to see Jesse starting a pot of African coffee, french-press style . I got the explanation of free-trade coffee and how working at Starbucks is not welcome in this house. Side note :: He was kidding around but still serious haha. Talking about ****bucks was not allowed Anyways, trying the coffee blew my mind. Can’t go back to a cup of brewed Starbucks now. Hands down, the African coffee I had blew Starbucks out of the water and the conversations that stemmed from it were awesome.

By this point, everyone else is awake and we are going through our introduction briefings until lunch. Not a lot of fun but still beneficial since none of us have ever been to Uganda. After lunch, Jesse and Andrea decided to take us to St. Mary Kevin’s Orphanage and Boarding School. I was ready to see poverty and the poor but driving up to the school was intense.

As we stopped in front of the iron gate housing all the students, we saw smile after smile coming rushing out of the classrooms to greet us and pull us out of the van. Within minutes, 50 faces and names had been thrown at me and only two were staying with me. Evan and Ivan. You can figure out why I remembered their names well.

Sitting down with a group, we played Jenga and soon moved onto me doing push-ups with the kids and one of them showing me his borderline Cirque de Soleil flexibility. For over fifteen minutes, I sat there watching, listening, taking pictures of every child I could find. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would be back to sit with them again. It was that clear to me how hard I was being called to this place.

After getting a tour of the orphanage and meeting dozens of kids, we were allowed to roam free and talk with whoever we wanted. It was heartbreaking to see the conditions that they lived in. 20 to 25 beds in a room the size of a large living room. They are only allowed to have one trunk and most of the kids barely have enough stuff to cover the bottom of the trunk. Crazy to see how much stuff that I JUST moved into my apartment. I can fit their belongs into one of my arms…

We stayed only an hour or so more playing with the kids, taking pictures, laughing, making all the necessary introductions with each other all with me saying, “Remind me tomorrow your name because it will be hard to remember everyone.”

After leaving, I had that itch again. Some of the girls were a little sad that we were leaving for the day but for me, I was only excited about coming back. And not just the next day or the next but coming back to stay. To be a part of a change in the world that would bring light and joy into a world of darkness and sorrow.

And after the Sunday service that we attended talked about how we all have “rocks of remembrance” in our lives that we need to hold onto, I realized that my “rock” was St. Mary Kevin’s Orphanage and the time that I would spend there. I cannot imagine myself anywhere else in the world. Not married, working at my church, living comfortably in a nice apartment with room to spare and a working car.

No I see myself sitting in the dirt, drinking well water, holding children in my arms as they tell me how they’ve lost their parents and don’t know what to do. That is my comfort zone and without a doubt where God is calling me to be.