Two weeks worth of pictures and a few more exciting changes!

One month ago, I was preparing to come to Uganda; I can’t believe I’ve been here an entire month already!

Both so much and, yet, not a lot has happened within these four weeks.

Most of the time I’ve been here, I’ve been staying in “my” village.

Village life excites me and I love it, but, for American’s, it’s often too slow for them so I’ll give you a quick recap.

I’ve seen old friends and met new ones.

I’ve spent hours sitting inside a hut, laughing, talking, and enjoying local dishes prepared by my favorite mammas.

I’ve walked over ten miles on multiple different days to get to the house of those mammas, sometimes in the burning sun and sometimes in the coolness that happens right before a huge rain storm.

I woke early to see sunrises and purposed to sit on a veranda to see sunsets.

I saw a nine-year-old boy that had an entire papaya tree fall on his head and was pronounced dead. Now, just weeks later, he is not only alive, but walking, laughing, and beginning to speak again. His grandmother saw the healing power of God, heard our prayers, and saw the love of Jesus and decided to give her life to Jesus.

I helped hand out mattresses, blankets, mosquito nets, and school supplies to over 300 children as they begin their new term at school. The joy on their faces as they received their mattress, blanket, and mosquito net- the first time many of them have ever had one- was something I was not ever forget.

I watched as a small team of pre-teen boys put on real football (soccer) shoes to play in for the first time and played with an actual regulation-size ball. I watched the smile spread across their mentor’s face as he saw the next generation of footballers he was training no longer playing barefoot with a ball made of sacks.

I carried a two-week old baby around for hours and couldn’t stop adoring his squishy face and beautiful features.

I ate more giant mangoes, jackfruit, pineapples, and avocadoes than I can even count. All of them were gifts from my families here or from sponsored kids.

I have split ends and broken hair strands from children running their fingers through it and braiding it anytime I sat where they could reach it.

I have tan lines on my feet, wrists, and arms from spending hours in the sun teaching kids how to throw a Frisbee or playing cat and rat.

My arm muscles are exhausted from carrying children or picking them up and swinging them around. I carried one small child on my back from her house to the village center, which was over an hour walk.

I’ve spent countless hours simply sitting in the grass next to the football pitch or on mats as children climbed all over me.

I sang and danced around a bonfire late into the night with new and old friends. 

I worshiped in English and a local language with people who were too old or unable to walk the distance to church.

I sent three of my kids off to board at secondary school and felt like a true mamma, as I choked back tears watching them leave because I am so proud of them and because I’ll miss seeing them every day.

I have sat and had conversations under the beautiful night sky, surrounded by the stars and bright full moon that have answered a lot of questions about my future and furthered relationships.

I rode on a boda with arms full and sitting side-saddle with nothing to hold on to, unafraid, while my Ugandan dad drove me to town to pick some things for dinner.

I stood in the downpour of a random rainstorm and laughed as the boys playing football were completely unphased by the sudden flood; after all, it was football time, so nothing else mattered.

I have fought hard to get medical attention for a sponsored child and cried when he cried.

I hugged a mamma hard when she delivered her baby too early and lost it.

I cried and cringed when a child with spina bifida and turned in feet that constantly drag on the ground discovered he has an infection and decaying toes from the constant wounds and rubbing. The doctor then told him his feet will likely be amputated next week. The young boy, however, never let his joy fade.

I prayed over jajjas who have been sick for weeks on end and desire healing more than anything else.

I have been frustrated and angered at a lack of respect for authority and requests by fellow mzungus.

I’ve spent days sitting around on my bed doing next to nothing and dozing off to pass the hot day.

I have searched and negotiated and am in the final stages of getting a house in my name and will hopefully have somewhere to officially call my own in a few weeks.

I know this is a lot of seemingly random pieces of information here, but it’s been such a random few weeks that I can’t even think of one cohesive story to write about.

Plus, I’ve been promising for weeks that I’d have an update with lots of photos, so I wanted to make sure I provided exactly that.

Like I mentioned up there, after a lot of prayer, budgeting, and using my network of friends and family here, I have finally found a place that meets all my needs! This will not only be able to serve as a home base for the next five months while I’m here, but it will also be a place for friends and family to have as a place of rest and community whenever they are around and will be a ministry for those in need.

It’s a beautiful, recently-renovated house with two bedrooms, two indoor bathrooms with running water, a sitting room and kitchen. And it’s in the neighborhood I’ve been working and living in every time I’ve come to Kampala. It’s not only close and familiar, but it’s also safe, secure, private, and owned by a friend. It’s literally an answered prayer!

At just over $130 a month, I will finally have my own place after 27 years.

My next project will be furnishing it! 

Buying two beds and mattresses, a few shelves, a table and chairs, a small couch, and some needed items for the kitchen will cost around $300. If anyone feels led to donate and make my house a home, please follow the link and complete a one-time donation. (https://worldoutreach.org/index.php/missionary-support-2)

Also, once again, things are changing. 

While the weeks I’ve spent here in my village have been great and I’ve loved it, I feel it’s just about time to move on to find my long-term ministry here.

I’ve touched base with my home and my families and did some ministry here, but, like I’ve been saying for over a month, I believe God is doing something big and different regarding ministry here.

I feel like I need to be settled with a place to call home before I venture out so that I have a place to come home to, so it will all depend on how long it will take to get into the house and get moved in. 

The biggest thing about the house will be a place to store all my belongings. Even if I venture out to ministry a few hours away, it is not plausible to haul all three 50-pound bags with me. If nothing else, the house will provide a safe place to keep all the thing I will not be using daily (like the six-month surplus of hair curl cream or shampoo and conditioner) so I can bring only what is needed wherever I go.

I still have plans to go out and see our friend working within a Muslim village in Lake Victoria and follow up with some organizations near Jinja and a few here outside Kampala. 

But the biggest thing I’ve been learning the past few months is to be still and wait for God’s timing. 

He usually makes it very clear when a door opens or closes and when I’m supposed to go. I feel that time is coming where another door is opening, but it’s not there yet.

So, now, I am back to waiting on the revelation of God’s perfect plan and the next step I need to take.