secrets

I've been told I need to talk about Africa.  More.


I've been back in America, away from Africa, for 9 weeks and 4 days, if anyone is counting. I've visited friends and family and church and have shared about Uganda - my kids, my work, my life there. But honestly, its hard, because it hurts to remember what I love and miss so much and to be transparent with the heart of who I've become. 


Let me give you a good illustration::

"When Peter, Edmund, Lucy, and Susan stepped out of the wardrobe, they were shocked to find out that no one seemed to know anything about the world from which they had just returned. In Narnia, they had experienced the breathtaking beauty of the place and its citizens; they had discovered things about themselves they had not known before; they had conquered evil; they had known love on new and different levels; they had met friends that had challenged all of their normal ways of thinking. They had been important people there. They had completely become a part of that world. So when they walked out of the wardrobe, they were shocked to find their changes were unapparent to everyone around them. When to the children, the changes they saw in themselves were so great that they were now almost completely different people." *

When people ask, "How was Africa?", sometimes it's just easier to say "Good" and move onto details of their lives rather than risk them not understanding, or worse, not really caring about the answer.


And yet, I've had so many people embrace me back into life here in America, graciously listen to stories, genuinely wanting to know more (even when they have dig or pry it out me at times).  Thank you, for being you and for putting up with me. 


As a part of this process they call "reentry" or "reverse culture shock," I'm realizing that yes, it will be hard to adjust back to life here, but I need to be a person filled with God's grace. I need to recognize that part of my job, part of telling my story, is to continue to say it out loud, in ways that people can connect with and relate to. I need to help people ask the right questions. 


How do I love  - continue to love and honor - my kids in Africa and my friends and family here in America? A song I really like ** says it like this:

Love does not run, Love does not hide, Love does not keep, Locked inside 

I will love them and you by continuing to share the story. I will share the things I'm tempted to keep secret. 


Like how yesterday, as I was driving, there was pothole in the road and I dodged it, effortlessly, and for the breifest moment, almost thought I was back in Uganda. 


Like how I went for jog in a neighborhood here and a little African American boy waved to me and I automatically said "How are you?", expecting him to wave respond with "Muzungu byyyyeeee!"(If you're wondering what "muzungu bye" looks like in person, see photo below).


Like how I've had to have people explain culturally relevant Western things like Groupon and QR codes that apparently happened while I was dodging potholes in Africa. 


Sometimes I forget that I should tell people about the everyday normal things of living in Uganda. Like how Ugandans are a beautifully dark-skinned people and how most use their feet as their main form of transportation. At night, the sides of the roads are filled with people of all ages walking home in the dark. Nighttime driving becomes a challenging activity - bumpy-holed roads unlit by street lights and populated by dark-skinned people and animals that dart across and cross the road with an everyday alacrity that borders on alarming. Naturally, drivers, in an effort to see all things moving turn on their brights...all the time, essentially blinding other drivers on the road and making it impossible to see the people. Which was kind of the point. 


Sometimes I forget that I don't have to bleach my vegetables or filter my water or worry about forgetting to take my anti malaria pill. Sometimes it still feels strange to pour from a gallon jug of milk or pump my own gas. 


But what are all of these things, really, besides small details of another life in another place just like anyone else anywhere else in this big world? They will continue to only be mundane details unless they are matched with lives that tell stories - stories of transformation that lead to more transformed lives. Stories of love which lead to more loving. If my details of a far off place can you stories that point back to the One who authored our lives, then I'll keep sharing. 


I'd tell you about someone so special to me, a older student in Hope Alive! named Jimmy. I know he wouldn't mind if I told you - I think he would sort of look down humbly, but have a huge smile on his face.  

Jimmy joined Hope Alive! when he was 14 and in the 4th grade. He had missed a lot of school because his mother, who is HIV+, couldn’t find work and so couldn't pay school fees. Out of the 267 4th graders at his school, he ranked 237. After enrollment in the project, Jimmy began to grow and thrive. He became very active in a local church. Halfway through 5th grade, he was number three in his class. By 6th grade, he was number one. And in 7th grade, not only was he number one in his class, he was also elected school president. Jimmy started a Bible club at his school and led three of his friends to the Lord. More have become Christians since then.

Jimmy has now near the end of his final year of secondary school. He is an ambitious and passionate young man, desiring to become a medical doctor one day. Currently, Jimmy serves as the chairman of the student Leadership Team in Kampala and has the respect and love of all Hope Alive! staff and students. His nickname is “Pastor.” The healing hope of Jesus transforms not just one life but has exponential impact. ***

I have never seen anyone work so hard, worship so passionately, or live with so much joy. Knowing Jimmy has made a difference in my life; maybe his story will touch you in some way, incite you to action. 


I could fill your day with stories of Uganda and kids like Jimmy, but if they won't change your heart or make a difference in how you think about the world, I'd rather not say a word. Kierkegaard said, "to listen in order to act, this is the highest thing of all, and, God be praised, every man is capable of it if he so wills."  If you can listen with an open heart - not just to me but to so many people who have stories about the Truth to tell - then maybe you can start to see the Jimmy's in your own world, the poverty and unloved in your own cities and backyards. 

muzungu bye

* Excerpt from Coming Home, Reeentry Devotions for a Successful Return by Howard & Bonnie Lisech
** Love Never Fails, by Brandon Heath
*** Taken from Hope Alive!'s website, found at http://www.hopealiveafrica.org/