I tend to delay writing long updates. And the more I delay them, the less I want to write them because I know I’ll have even more to write than before. That’s kind of what happened with this. Anyways, it’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and my conscience has kicked in.

We arrived in Kenya from Uganda almost two weeks ago! After three hazy days of traveling, including a surreal and rainy five hour jaunt around London to glimpse Big Ben and Westminster Abbey, and an uncomfortable nap in a cold Heathrow quiet room, we arrived at Kasana Children’s Center, part of the New Hope Uganda ministry in Luweero district, about a bumpy 2 hour drive from the Ugandan capital city, Kampala. Kasana is a children’s home that desires to bring the Fatherhood of God to the Fatherless. So, they take in orphans and raise them in family groups of 15-25 kids, with Ugandan family parents. There’s a school for the kids on site, and children from the village join them during school hours.

Early mornings and late evenings in the guest house, where we were staying, became a time to just be with the team, or have team devotions, and “debrief” with Dr. Kim. Every morning after devotions and sometimes a short run (during sunrise, which I strongly recommend), we would walk down the road to the Institute, which is a five-month learning program for adults working or wanting to work with family ministries. Professor Kim was their professor for the time we were there, and so essentially we were just joining into the Institute for 2 weeks. We would have class for four hours every morning and watch each other fall asleep. Unfortunately jet lag was more gripping than even the fascinating stuff we were learning about appropriate technologies from Dr. Kim, who really is amazing.

In the afternoons, we took long walks through the village or the hospital or various farms to learn more about the culture, the area, the local interaction (however limited) with appropriate technologies like wells, water sanitation, pit latrines, etc. I was really impressed with what we learned and with New Hope. They have beautiful hopes for their children and the community, and are very holistic in the way they try to actualize those. For example, they have several different vocational schools to help the kids start out on their own after they leave Kasana at 21 years old.

Uganda is beautiful. I just kept saying that to every Ugandan I met, because it’s so true. It really is. Kenya, where I’m used to, is more like savannah and grassland. Granted, it’s green and fertile and colorful, and I love it, but Uganda is different. It’s thick, dark green everywhere. It’s more the Heart of Africa, with sweeping hills, dark ruddy soil that is still coloring my toenails orange, and trees so dense in some places you couldn’t ever know the monkeys, birds, and lizards inside.

There were a lot of really striking moments in Uganda, but the part that was really soul good for me, other than learning practical things about community development, was spending time with our family. We were each paired with one of the family groups. Molly and I became part of the Samuel Family. Um, gosh, I really loved those kids. We had 14 kids in our family, and a lot of pain, I think, because they were in between family parents and were kind of on their own. What I loved about being with them was how real it felt. It was understood and then overlooked that we were really different from them. It was kind of like being a new teacher…at first they pulled pranks (Molly and I believed until the end that our 16 year old sister Namara was 22), but they also allowed us into their lives in a really powerful way. Molly and I were both scared that by getting close to them, we would just perpetuate the unhealthy short-termer thing when we had to say goodbye, but I feel God blessed that question in our hearts by allowing us to speak truth into each others’ lives, and just enjoy being together while we could. We sang and danced together (Molly and I tried to dance the calypso, a dance in which you somehow step and shuffle rhythmically while periodically shrugging your shoulders and pretending like you’re revving a motorcycle…or something like that), took a harrowing 6 kilometre trip to the market in the rain together, ate together (Molly and I gagged on the food together), caught fish together (do you know how  it feels to hold a slithering catfish?), hoed in the garden together (they kept telling me I was doing it wrong but I swear I was doing it exactly the way they were), and learned Luganda from them. It took me all two weeks to remember how to say “See you later”…but I’ve got it now! “Njakula Beda.”

So that’s kind of a short recap on Uganda…except that at the end we got to spend 2 days in Jinja, at the source of the Nile. We rafted the Nile, which was an amazing (spiritual) experience. It’s grade 5 rafting, so it was a little scary at parts, which definitely added to the fun. It’s just really beautiful, and water is such a powerful reminder of God to me. We met a lot of cool people there, too, like a Japanese man who’s been traveling for three years (When  we asked him which countries he went to in South America, he paused for a second, and said, “All.”); a 45 year old teacher named Alan who seems to have it out for all Christian ideology (we had a really good conversation); Yon, a Dutch KLM pilot who forgot to send pictures of all us on the Nile; and Ian, a strong South African brother in our Lord who is guiding on the river for three months.

I think in all these things, God is teaching me about trusting Him. I wrote in my journal on the last day in Uganda: “All of my experiences so far have highlighted a lesson I desperately need to learn…trust. I’m realizing that in so many things we are caught in tension. Caught between wealth and poverty; between a prosperity gospel and gospel of poverty; between the developed and the developing; between ideas and reality; between what should be, what could be, and what is; between the community development that is head knowledge and the community development that is real praxis; between emotion and intellect. I’m scared of leaning too far to one side and falling off of some invisible thing that I’m walking on; or possibly worse, clinging to something unstable on the by-way. The trust that I have to have is overwhelming. I have to trust that I’m holding a hand I cannot see or feel. I’m being led by ambiguity and silence, hoping with my heart that it is God. And I’m learning that God is the only one who knows the balance. He knows the answers to all my questions.”

Alright, I’ll save Nairobi and the last two weeks for another day…a deep thanks to whoever reads this…I covet prayers as I also (try to) pray for all of you! I’m starting my internship with Beacon of Hope on Monday!