This morning I read through the journal entry I wrote on my
way back from Uganda in December. Here is part of it:
December 11, 2013
Right now I am on
Ethiopian Air 502 flying somewhere over the Sahara Desert, which sounds cool
but it’s the middle of the night and in total darkness the Sahara looks exactly
like every other place at night, but with no lights. Which makes it 100 percent
less fun to look at.
I really think I will
be back someday. I hope I will be back someday. I can’t imagine not
coming back someday.
As much as I still
love everyone back home and feel torn about things, today my heart belongs to
Uganda. Today I am convinced that in June I will come back and stay for one
year. I have already begun packing in my head. I want to bring my own guitar
next time. Would it be worth it? I will have many suitcases full of books for
the new secondary school library. Maybe someone will need to come with me to
help handle all the luggage. I will bring more trousers because now I know that
tight pants are acceptable. I might even bring an umbrella—gasp!—because while
getting soaked this morning I realized just how practical those stupid things
are. I don’t need to bring towels or soap or lotion because I can get all those
in Mukono. I will bring a flash drive because I have had to borrow one
multiple times this trip.
When I come, I will
read with students again. Maybe the same ones and maybe some different ones,
depending on what kind of help is already there and how much they are
improving. I will do Teen Club again, ideally with the same leader but of
course that would all depend on the volunteer situation too. I will join the
Bible Class leadership again. If Warwick and Marilyn are still there, I will
jump right back into assemblies. If they leave shortly after I arrive, I
wouldn’t be surprised if they left me in charge of assemblies. I will go down
to the family unit and read with my girls again. Maybe I can find time to read
with the triplets’ room as well since they were always asking me. Once a week
or once in awhile, I will bring a treat for my girls—crisps or cookies or
something special. I will visit Christine and Kevin at least twice a month and
I will come pray for Agnes’ grandmother just as often. I will sing Bambalayla a
lot. And of course Marilyn and I will spend a lot of time getting the
secondary school library up and running.
Oh, how my heart
belongs to Uganda today.
I intended to write a blog telling all of you what my plans
are, but it turns out I already wrote it—four months ago. At the time I hoped
it would all work out, but now that discussions are happening and plans are in
place I am amazed at how accurate those dreams were.
On June 30th, I will board another plane to
Uganda… this time for a year. You see, my trip in the fall was not so much a
mission as it was an experiment. I was hoping that through a short-term trip
like that, God would reveal to me whether He wanted me to do that kind of work
long-term. There is only so much you can do in three months, but starting out
with a year seemed a bit foolish—and scary—for a place I had never been before.
Plus, it probably would have given my mother a heart attack.
God never gave me a clear-cut answer about whether or not I
need to return to Uganda. He didn’t write “Noah’s Ark” in the sky or speak
audibly in my many prayer times with Him once I returned. What He did give me
was a love for the people, a passion for the work, and a desire to make His
name known in a place where it is not as readily available to the masses as it
is in the states.
People often remind me that people here have needs and need
to hear the gospel too. I know that, believe
me I do. However, the difference is that here there are churches all over
the place. There are Christ followers all over the place. People can go to college
to study the Bible or religion. It is available… but people reject it. In
Uganda, we are still trying to make it widely available. Many Ugandans haven’t
had the opportunity to accept or reject
it! The Ugandans don’t need Jesus any more than we do in America, but their
access to the gospel is limited. That is not okay.
A couple weeks after my return to the states, Annie and I
were talking about our hopes and plans and possibilities for the future.
“What do you think, Katie?” she asked. “After camp, do you
know what you’ll do?”
“No, not yet,” I said. “I had decided to wait until after
Africa to figure all that out.”
She looked at me like I had just said something stupid. “Katie,
there’s never going to be an ‘after Africa’ for you.”
So simple, yet so true. I feel like she summed up the rest
of my life in one sentence. I have known that no matter where I am, Africa will
always be on my heart, but the way Annie phrased it made me realize the depth
of my commitment, even if I had yet to realize it myself. In a way, Africa will
always be my here and now.
So in two months I will board another plane heading for
monkeys and mangoes and dirt that turns my feet red. I will need God more than
ever because that is a long time to be away from family and friends and my
loved ones in the states. It will not be easy. But God is worth it and those
kids at Noah’s Ark are worth it. I trust that He will not only give me the
strength to get through the year, but He will also give me everything I need to
flourish and glorify Him within that year. With God leading the way, back to
Africa I go.
