African Muzungu

I’m typing while staring at my finger, newly decorated, and I still can’t quite believe it’s real. 7 years in the making, and in this moment it seems more like one of my early morning dreams, somewhere in the middle of waking and sleeping. But maybe if I write it out, it will start to sink in. 7 years ago, I had just left my family, including a newly married sister, and had moved to Uganda to live with a national pastor and his wife in Mbale. My very first day in Mbale, I was introduced to my next door neighbors, Paul, Flower, and their family. I was so excited for these new friends since I was so eager to learn language, culture, and establish myself in Ugandan society. Paul and Flower were just as willing and the next weeks found us in all kinds of activities from going out in the slums to do first aid for wounds, to learning how to wash dishes with no running water. They were also my first language teachers (of both Luganda and the Ugandan accent!), and we spent hours laug...

July 30. It was the best day of the year. And that’s saying something! There were multiple red-letter days this year such as the day Michelle arrived in Uganda, my first safari in Africa, and the day I fed a lion with my best friend (read about it here !). But this particular one was my favorite. The whole year had really been leading up to it, and it was highly anticipated by more than just myself! At the beginning of the school year, I gave my kids in grades 3, 4, and 5 a challenge: memorize and recite 16 answers together with supporting verses to these 4 different questions (which some of you might recognize these from AWANA’s T&T book 1): Who is God? Who is the Lord Jesus? How does God want me to live my life? Why did God give us the Bible? They had a total of 36 verses to memorize and recite word-perfectly by the end of July. The reward they were promised was an ice-cream party for all those who successfully finished every last verse, and for those who were able ...

Almost every day I have the joy of introducing various people here to 'Muganda wange,' which translates to 'my sister' in Lugwere and Luganda. The common response is almost always, 'Yes! For sure, you resemble!' (aka, you look alike:) ). The many commentaries that have followed have been priceless! Showing her off to all my friends and acquaintances has been so much fun! This is a joy that I have longed for since the very first time I came to Uganda in 2003.   Over the past 5 years of living overseas, I have found that living in a totally different culture and environment from my friends and family in the States can certainly lead to feelings of isolation and loneliness. Struggling to describe especially the small things that make my life so different here can be frustrating to the point of not even wanting to try. Things like… making sure the water filter is full all the time so if water runs out, at least we have drinking water… maneuvering the the p...

Many of you know the incredible anticipation with which I was looking forward to my sister, Michelle spending the summer here in Uganda with me. Let me tell you, the reality has been even better than what I thought!!! Michelle has been here for over a month, and I still pinch myself to make sure it’s real. Her coming has been so timely in so many ways I couldn’t have anticipated… for example, I’ve spent an inordinate number of days sick the past month. The whole first part of the year I was doing so much better with sickness that I usually do, but the past 2 months a variety of different illnesses have knocked me down numerous times. Michelle has been a champ, not only in going with the flow and quickly adapting to the variety of paces ministry in Africa brings (everything from break-necked speed to sick-induced standstill, and everything in between), or even caring for me when sick, but also covering for me and taking up my slack at school when I’ve been down. She’s been so great ...

We sat face to face, with only a table separating us. I leaned in close and looked into her brown eyes. I have something to tell you.  She was so scared as she cringed in her chair waiting for me to continue. God will never remove His grace from you. Her eyes immediately welled up in tears as she quietly stared at me. Yes, I understand what you did. I heard you say that you know that it was wrong, and you felt the burden of shame and guilt. But dear sister, please know that even when you sin, He will never remove His grace from you. Because you are His . His precious daughter who He loves more than anything. Today brought one of the most precious conversations I’ve ever had with this dear friend of mine. My heart balloons with the joy of remembering the courage she had to admit her sin to me. A sin that had brought great shame and sorrow. A sin that had her feeling like God had removed His grace from her, and she was no longer free to come before Him. And yet, she f...

It was a Friday afternoon, and my P3 (3rd grade) class was restless. Actually they were more than restless. Downright unruly is more like it. My normally beautifully behaved, obedient, attentive 9-12 year olds were acting much more like my usually challenging 6-7 year olds. I did my best to try to teach for even that short 30 minute period, but left feeling like that day was total bust. The weekend sped past with an abundance of work and play as usual, and Monday morning found me having forgotten all the woes of Friday’s difficulties. Walking into my P3 classroom, I set my things down, and listened as my children chanted their ritual greeting: You are welcome, Teecha Melanie. Dis is P3 class. Ouwa school motto is Christ’s ambassadahs tomoooorow. Smiling, I sat down at my desk and briefly collected my thoughts for the lesson. Before I could speak a word, I saw one of my girls approaching my desk. I thought she would just asked to go to the bathroom, but I was surprised to hear an apo...

It’s been so hot here. Uncharacteristically hot. We’re in the end of an elongated dry season that has left each of us here begging Jesus for rain. Water sources around town have been drying up, and the city regularly turns off water in order to conserve it.  In Kamonkoli, city water didn’t reach the village for over a week. And even when Pastor called to get the fire engine to bring water from Mbale, they said they couldn’t pick water from dry sources. People in Kamonkoli would line up for hours at the wells waiting for their turn to fill their bright yellow jerrycans. They have really suffered.  In town, with my big water tank perched on top of my roof ready to collect water every second the city has it turned on, I really have had nothing to complain about. Yes, we’ve had days that water ran out and bathing became a luxury instead of routine, but on the whole we’ve done fine. It’s the heat that’s been the biggest challenge. After weeks and weeks of praying, today...

Everyday I go to teach in the afternoon. Each day as my car comes close to the school, children start dashing for the fence, pressing their faces close and shouting my name… Teecha Melan! Teecha Melan! I drive through the gate, carefully navigating the lumpy ground, running children, construction workers, and materials for the new building.  It’s a bit nerve wracking. Don’t get me wrong, I love my children’s enthusiasm, but I do wish it was a bit further away from my tires :) As soon as I park, a multitude of faces and hands and feet gather around eagerly anticipating the moment I get out of the car and they can finally greet, touch, and hug me. It’s beautifully overwhelming each time. I very selfishly hope and pray it doesn’t get old for them, because it’ll never get old for me!  Each one is hungry for my attention and eager for my affection. And I’m amazed how much I love each of them. And how much that love has changed me these pa...

It’s only 7 more days until I’m on a plane back to Uganda. After 9 months, it hardly seems possible. People keep asking me if I’m ready. My answer? Not yet. But that’s what the next 7 days is for, right? ;) I knew these last weeks would fly by fast, as they always do. And as always, I’m left scrambling till the end! But I think I should be packed more than I am. I’ve only been doing it for 9 months!   I can’t remember ever being so nervous-excited to go back. There is so much I’m happily anticipating and thrilled about, but as you might imagine, there’s also a good bit of nerves. I know there are awkward, painful reminders waiting for me when I get there. I’ve seen some of the hard, the painful, the scary of being on the front lines of ministry, and I know things don’t necessarily just get easier from here. But I have walked with Jesus through suffering, and I know I just have to look beside me to find Him there again. I’ve never had to do that so constantly ever before in my ...

People say I’m brave for living in Africa. I don’t feel brave. In fact, a lot of times I’m downright scared. Before moving to Uganda, I had several major fears that I recognized and had to purposefully surrender to Jesus. The list wasn’t very long, but included on that list were an assault and being rejected by people I so loved. It was a bit of a shock to realize that 2 of my major fears came true within months of each other. I’m not going to lie and say that I realize now that I had no reason to fear those things. Let me tell you, actually experiencing them was just as painful as I had feared. The loss, grief, depression, anger, and deep aching pain were all very real. No, I don’t believe God tells us time and time again “Don’t be afraid” because there is nothing to fear. On the contrary, there is so much to rightfully fear that comes from living in a broken world and surrounds us every moment. Loved ones agonize through cancer. Jobs are lost. People lie and stab us in the back....

Last time, I wrote briefly about my unexpected trip back to the States, and after having some time to think, pray, and heal, I thought I would share a bit more about what the Lord has been doing the past 2 months. While in Uganda, I suffered through several situations including the betrayal of friends and also an assault. While I have made some great steps toward healing, I do not believe that it would be beneficial to re-tell or re-live the details of what happened, here or elsewhere. Before going, I had considered the possibility of being assaulted, but never actually thought it would happen to me. And although I would never choose for something like this to happen to me or anyone else, I have had the amazing opportunity to see the power of Jesus’ healing hand at work. So many times we pray for healing. Many times that is for physical healing, and if we don’t get better we often accept it with the thought that ‘God knows best.’ If we are healed physically, we praise and ...