Believe it or not, the second half of my time here in Uganda has begun and we will be so busy that it seems like it's full speed ahead.
Please pray for:
1. our travels. In three weeks we are going on a two week vacation to Kenya. Please pray that we have a safe journey, that everything works out as planned, and most importantly, that it will be a great time of relaxation and fellowship.
2. my health. I haven't been feeling well for a few weeks now and have been taking some medicine, but it doesn't seem to be working. Please pray for healing so that I and completely throw myself into God's work.
3. continued humility. The biggest thing I am learning here is my need to be humble in every situation, which is something that I didn't think I needed to learn (how's that for humility?). It's been very difficult, but I know God is working, so I welcome the challenge. Pray that I react in a Christlike manner when the challenges come around.
Monday, December 29, 2008
And a Happy New Year
It's just as hard to believe that Christmas has passed as it was to believe that it was the Christmas season to begin with. The holiday brought the boys team from their placement near Kampala to our home in Namaliri. Even though we came as one gap year team to Uganda, it's felt like we're two separate teams a lot more lately being at different placements, so it was nice to spend time with the boys as well as work with them.
On Christmas Eve we hosted a kids party at our church. Africa time has become something we're accustomed to--if church starts at 10am we go at 11am, dinner is no earlier than 9pm, and time becomes merely an idea based on the position of the sun--but the day of the Christmas party threw us off. Five hours before the party was meant to start, a truck arrived at our house filled with over 50 children. All were dressed in their Sunday best--their mismatched suits and fancy dresses hanging open in the back because they are missing the zipper--and seeing the excitement on their faces made me realize that this Christmas party is a really big deal for them. When the time for the party to start arrived (five hours later)I went outside to take them to the church and they were all gone--they had already left for the church. It was then that I realized how out of shape I had become, because I ran full speed to reach the church before they did, lest they pop all of the balloons and steal all of the sweets. The party was a chaotic success, and in the end, they did pop all of the balloons and steal all of the sweets, but I have a feeling that because they don't get parties very often, this will be a Christmas for them to remember, and it's worth all the popped balloons a missing candy in the world.
This Christmas was one for me to remember as well. It was simple, with only a big meal in the way of gifts, but that was enough, because that's all our family, the Amenemoits, had to give. And when I look back on it, I realize that that is what Christmas is all about--giving all you have, all you are--because that's what God gave us. With all of these new experiences and broadened perspectives, I am ready to ring in the new year with a new disposition to accompany it. I challenge you to do the same.
On Christmas Eve we hosted a kids party at our church. Africa time has become something we're accustomed to--if church starts at 10am we go at 11am, dinner is no earlier than 9pm, and time becomes merely an idea based on the position of the sun--but the day of the Christmas party threw us off. Five hours before the party was meant to start, a truck arrived at our house filled with over 50 children. All were dressed in their Sunday best--their mismatched suits and fancy dresses hanging open in the back because they are missing the zipper--and seeing the excitement on their faces made me realize that this Christmas party is a really big deal for them. When the time for the party to start arrived (five hours later)I went outside to take them to the church and they were all gone--they had already left for the church. It was then that I realized how out of shape I had become, because I ran full speed to reach the church before they did, lest they pop all of the balloons and steal all of the sweets. The party was a chaotic success, and in the end, they did pop all of the balloons and steal all of the sweets, but I have a feeling that because they don't get parties very often, this will be a Christmas for them to remember, and it's worth all the popped balloons a missing candy in the world.
This Christmas was one for me to remember as well. It was simple, with only a big meal in the way of gifts, but that was enough, because that's all our family, the Amenemoits, had to give. And when I look back on it, I realize that that is what Christmas is all about--giving all you have, all you are--because that's what God gave us. With all of these new experiences and broadened perspectives, I am ready to ring in the new year with a new disposition to accompany it. I challenge you to do the same.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Prayer Requests
Christmas Day will mark the halway point for my time here in Africa, but I still have so much that God wants me to learn.
Please pray for:
1. Humility. Being in situations where people are different than I am has made me realize how much pride I harbor. Pray that I will be humble in every circumstance and will truly learn what it means to love my neighbor as myself.
2. Peace of mind. This mainly has to do with trusting God with his will... in every situation.
3. Healing. I have been sick for a while--not sick enough to keep me down, but just enough to trouble me. Pray that I can find the proper treatment and that I will remain healthy during the remainder of my time here.
4. Loving God. I really want to experience loving God with all my heart, with all my mind, and with all my soul. Pray that he will put me in situations so that I can learn to love him completely, and feel his complete love.
I hope you have a Merry Christmas!
Please pray for:
1. Humility. Being in situations where people are different than I am has made me realize how much pride I harbor. Pray that I will be humble in every circumstance and will truly learn what it means to love my neighbor as myself.
2. Peace of mind. This mainly has to do with trusting God with his will... in every situation.
3. Healing. I have been sick for a while--not sick enough to keep me down, but just enough to trouble me. Pray that I can find the proper treatment and that I will remain healthy during the remainder of my time here.
4. Loving God. I really want to experience loving God with all my heart, with all my mind, and with all my soul. Pray that he will put me in situations so that I can learn to love him completely, and feel his complete love.
I hope you have a Merry Christmas!
Seasons Greetings
It's two days until Christmas and sunny with a high of 81 degrees farenheit. After my stint in London last spring I had sworn off the cold, longing to live in a place where it's warm year-round, but this Christmas leaves me longing for the four seasons of the Midwest. Christmas has crept up on me this year, and because I'm in a different environment I've had to really reevaluate what Christmas really means to me: is it a feeling? Is it cookies and coats and movie marathons? Is it a tree sheltering a pile of presents underneath? Or is it really about the story for me?
For a while I had resolved to simply let Christmas pass me by. It just wouldn't be the same without the traditions I've experienced my entire life celebrated with the family that I miss greatly. It would be easier that way, I thought. I'll be home soon enough and the holiday will come around again. But the Christmas songs on the radio won me over, and I became anxious for the holiday that seemed like a secret because there was little evidence of what I had known it to be around me.
My spirit just couldn't avoid celebrating Christmas, but it seemed I needed a refreshers course. This was provided in the past two weeks that we've spent at an Oasis project in the slums of Kampala called "Bambejja." "Bambejja" means "princess in the local language, Luganda, and it is a communtiy for underpriviledged girls. It is a place that literally provides them with an "oasis" from the hardships of their lives--lives that are truthfully lived on a day-to-day basis. We ran a two week kids club for them with a Christmas theme, and it was in the sharing of the Christmas story with these girls that it became a new story to me. Because this story was written for people like these--people that need hope, people that need redemption. And the reality of it is that I'm no different. I need hope, I need redemption. And just as these girls, I have nothing without the gift of Christ--I am nothing without the gift of Christ.
So this season, as Christmas grows closer, I can't deny that it won't be difficult. I have so much hope burried in these things that make Christmas a magical holiday for me. But the truth is there will be one thing that's the same--the story. And that's all the hope I need.
For a while I had resolved to simply let Christmas pass me by. It just wouldn't be the same without the traditions I've experienced my entire life celebrated with the family that I miss greatly. It would be easier that way, I thought. I'll be home soon enough and the holiday will come around again. But the Christmas songs on the radio won me over, and I became anxious for the holiday that seemed like a secret because there was little evidence of what I had known it to be around me.
My spirit just couldn't avoid celebrating Christmas, but it seemed I needed a refreshers course. This was provided in the past two weeks that we've spent at an Oasis project in the slums of Kampala called "Bambejja." "Bambejja" means "princess in the local language, Luganda, and it is a communtiy for underpriviledged girls. It is a place that literally provides them with an "oasis" from the hardships of their lives--lives that are truthfully lived on a day-to-day basis. We ran a two week kids club for them with a Christmas theme, and it was in the sharing of the Christmas story with these girls that it became a new story to me. Because this story was written for people like these--people that need hope, people that need redemption. And the reality of it is that I'm no different. I need hope, I need redemption. And just as these girls, I have nothing without the gift of Christ--I am nothing without the gift of Christ.
So this season, as Christmas grows closer, I can't deny that it won't be difficult. I have so much hope burried in these things that make Christmas a magical holiday for me. But the truth is there will be one thing that's the same--the story. And that's all the hope I need.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Prayer Requests
As I reach the conclusion of the first half of my time here and begin the next, I really am needing prayer for motivation and the ability to take things and enjoy things day-by-day here. I don't want to look back at my time in Africa and wish I would have done more.
A Ugandan Wedding
Last week I was able to attend my first Ugandan wedding. African tribal meets developing nation gaudiness meets western class, a Ugandan wedding is not something to be missed, and I wanted to make sure to capture this event on camera. But I didn't--in all of the hustle and bustle to get us on the bus to Jinja, where the wedding was taking place, I forgot my camera. And yes, we were getting on a bus--a bus that was carrying the bride's entire family. I worked my way to the back of the bus to one of the only empty seats--a seat surrounded by lots of little boys. As we pulled onto the road, I realized why they were all sitting back there--they had been placed back there because it was the bumpiest place to sit on these pot hole-filled Ugandan roads, and obviously they were feeling the reprocussions of that, because not too long into the drive I felt something wet pouring onto my foot. Vomit. The boy, who was about four years old, was half asleep, so I had to solve this problem myself. The selfish part in me inclined me to clean off my foot first, and I then helped the little boy clean off his face and his suit that still had the tag attached, because his mother had likely planned to return it after the wedding (I don't know if they will take it anymore). In a few minutes, thanks to my ever-present friend anti-bacterial handgel, we were feeling fine once again on the bumpy road.
We arrived at the wedding a bit after it was meant to start, but that wouldn't matter--we're in Africa. The actual ceremony didn't start until an hour later and lasted nearly two hours. I'm convinced that it was the pace in which the wedding party entered the hall that took up so much time--a turtle could have processed faster. As for the ceremony, there were three distinct phases, which the pastor made clear, and which in between each the pastor would go over what was hapening with the bride and groom while music played so that we wouldn't hear this disorganization. I felt like I was watching the filming of a live television show and we were biding time during the commercial break. The first phase was a sermon. The bride and groom sat on opposite sides of the aisle while the pastor preached on the importance of two becoming one.
Phase two was the vows. You could tell they were nervous when he lifted her veil, checking to see if she was the one he intended to marry. Male-female relationships are very formal here, and if you see a male and a female holding hands it is expected that they are engaged. The pastor even had to pause the vows to have the groom move closer. There's something nice about the innocence, I suppose. Phase two concluded with the pronunciation of them being man and wife, but no kiss to follow.
It was then time for phase three: the signing of the marriage certificate and the taking of communion. While the couple were kept busy, we were entertained by a gospel choir. The recession finished phase three with the same turtle pace and it's possible they walked at that pace all the way to the reception, because we were left waiting at the hall for three hours.
For the reception, we arrived to a half-decorated town hall that likely had its hey day during Amin's reign, because it certainly isn't in its hey day now. We were hungry because it was the middle of the afternoon and we hadn't had lunch, but we didn't know exactly were the food was, so we were left to wait. After waiting for a while, someone came up to preach, because of course that would take up plenty of time in Africa, and it was about halfway through the Lugandan sermon that I realized that the bride and groom were missing. And then the thought hit me: were we waiting around for them to consumate their marriage. The thought changed the vibe instantly. It turned out, though, that the caterers had had some trouble on the road, and the bridal party was simply waiting for them to arrive.
Arround 6 pm the food rolled in, and it was about time, too. We piled our plates high with the same delicacies we enjoy on a day to day basis, though in larger proportion, and ate our fill. It seems that's all there is to a Ugandan reception--eating--but we were all okay with that. We left not too long after that, me sitting in the back seat with the boys once more, only this time they were asleep as we drove along the boncy road in the dark African night. Looking back on the day, it was very different than the way we did weddings at home, as I knew it would be, butit was perfectly fitting to what I had known Africa to be. I didn't take any notes for my wedding, though!
We arrived at the wedding a bit after it was meant to start, but that wouldn't matter--we're in Africa. The actual ceremony didn't start until an hour later and lasted nearly two hours. I'm convinced that it was the pace in which the wedding party entered the hall that took up so much time--a turtle could have processed faster. As for the ceremony, there were three distinct phases, which the pastor made clear, and which in between each the pastor would go over what was hapening with the bride and groom while music played so that we wouldn't hear this disorganization. I felt like I was watching the filming of a live television show and we were biding time during the commercial break. The first phase was a sermon. The bride and groom sat on opposite sides of the aisle while the pastor preached on the importance of two becoming one.
Phase two was the vows. You could tell they were nervous when he lifted her veil, checking to see if she was the one he intended to marry. Male-female relationships are very formal here, and if you see a male and a female holding hands it is expected that they are engaged. The pastor even had to pause the vows to have the groom move closer. There's something nice about the innocence, I suppose. Phase two concluded with the pronunciation of them being man and wife, but no kiss to follow.
It was then time for phase three: the signing of the marriage certificate and the taking of communion. While the couple were kept busy, we were entertained by a gospel choir. The recession finished phase three with the same turtle pace and it's possible they walked at that pace all the way to the reception, because we were left waiting at the hall for three hours.
For the reception, we arrived to a half-decorated town hall that likely had its hey day during Amin's reign, because it certainly isn't in its hey day now. We were hungry because it was the middle of the afternoon and we hadn't had lunch, but we didn't know exactly were the food was, so we were left to wait. After waiting for a while, someone came up to preach, because of course that would take up plenty of time in Africa, and it was about halfway through the Lugandan sermon that I realized that the bride and groom were missing. And then the thought hit me: were we waiting around for them to consumate their marriage. The thought changed the vibe instantly. It turned out, though, that the caterers had had some trouble on the road, and the bridal party was simply waiting for them to arrive.
Arround 6 pm the food rolled in, and it was about time, too. We piled our plates high with the same delicacies we enjoy on a day to day basis, though in larger proportion, and ate our fill. It seems that's all there is to a Ugandan reception--eating--but we were all okay with that. We left not too long after that, me sitting in the back seat with the boys once more, only this time they were asleep as we drove along the boncy road in the dark African night. Looking back on the day, it was very different than the way we did weddings at home, as I knew it would be, butit was perfectly fitting to what I had known Africa to be. I didn't take any notes for my wedding, though!
Monday, December 1, 2008
Prayer Requests
I can't believe that the holiday season is already here, especially since it is only getting hotter in Uganda!
Please pray:
1. That God will sustain us during this time. I know it will be hard to be away from home during Christmas for all of us, but I also have a feeling that God wants to teach us something.
2. That we will let God work. Things can get old when we're doing things our way, but when we are open to what he wants to do they seem to get pretty exciting--beyond what we could have ever thought of ourselves.
3. That we stay healthy and don't get run down. I had a few days of sickness after returning from the retreat, but praise God that he provided the rest that I needed, in His own special way.
4. That we will be inspired. I think we all are losing sight of why we came here. Pray that God will inspire us with a sense of mission during the remainder of our time here, that we might not wish the time away.
This Thanksgiving I am especially grateful for all of the prayer and support I have received from everyone. Thank you so much.
Please pray:
1. That God will sustain us during this time. I know it will be hard to be away from home during Christmas for all of us, but I also have a feeling that God wants to teach us something.
2. That we will let God work. Things can get old when we're doing things our way, but when we are open to what he wants to do they seem to get pretty exciting--beyond what we could have ever thought of ourselves.
3. That we stay healthy and don't get run down. I had a few days of sickness after returning from the retreat, but praise God that he provided the rest that I needed, in His own special way.
4. That we will be inspired. I think we all are losing sight of why we came here. Pray that God will inspire us with a sense of mission during the remainder of our time here, that we might not wish the time away.
This Thanksgiving I am especially grateful for all of the prayer and support I have received from everyone. Thank you so much.
Freedom
With a third of my time here in Uganda already gone by, it was time for some rest and recuperation, thought it didn't come in the way I was expecting. Our scheduled retreat took us on a four-day trip to Jinja, a city in Eastern Uganda that prides itself in being the home of the source of the River Nile. We stayed at a Christian retreat center on the banks of the river, and at first glance the Nile seemed less like the river i picture baby Moses being shipped off in and more like something from the garden of Eden. The river is as wide as a lake, with cliffs surrounding either side covered in green. Even with your eyes closed the beauty that is found here can be realized when you hear the river's rapids, the various species of birds soaring over the water, the monkeys swinging from tree to tree, and feel the breeze as it beckons you to join in with the beauty.
I made a point to get up each morning to watch the sunrise. I hadn't yet truly experienced the famed African sunrise and where better to do it than along the historic Nile, where though civilizations have changed and developed over thousands of years, the same sun still rises? I crept out of my banda that morning with my camera, hoping to catch this rare beauty. After taking some photos I just sat and watched, absorbing the timeless tranquility around me, thinking about how the sunrise I was seeing was essentially the same seen by Moses or Cleopatra. As everything surrounding me became flooded with light, it seemed that time stood still in awe of the beauty of God's creation. I longed to be in it--to fly over it and to take it all in, if only there was a way.
And then I saw it. The bungee jumping platform in the distance. Some of my team members where planning to jump the next day before we went rafting, but I had never even given the possibility a thought. Of course I wasn't going to jump. I had no desire to, nor a good reason to, plus I would say that my fear of heights is up there with my fear of snakes. But in this moment of freedom, my desire increased at a rate faster than the Grinch's heart, and jumping off of that platform became a metaphor in my mind to the new found freedom that I was experiencing in Christ--a freedom that drives out all fear because of His unfailing love--a freedom that is new and exciting and mysterious. And it was a freedom that was beckoning me: "jump."
So I signed up to bungee jump. My team poked fun at me on the way there because I kept listening to a song on repeat on my iPod: "Brave" by Nichole Nordeman. Looking back it was funny, but the words were so true--of God, it says "you make me want to be brave." I walked with confidence up to the platform with the others, trying not to look down. I decided I wanted to go first--I couldn't give myself more time to dwell on the reality of the ridiculousness I was about to encounter. And as I stood at the edge, my ankles bound together and my toes dangling, the bungee master lowered my arms and began to count down: "three, two..."
As he reached "one", I remembered the words from the Nichole Nordeman song I had listened to on repeat just before: "if you believe in me, that changes everything."
And then I jumped.
I made a point to get up each morning to watch the sunrise. I hadn't yet truly experienced the famed African sunrise and where better to do it than along the historic Nile, where though civilizations have changed and developed over thousands of years, the same sun still rises? I crept out of my banda that morning with my camera, hoping to catch this rare beauty. After taking some photos I just sat and watched, absorbing the timeless tranquility around me, thinking about how the sunrise I was seeing was essentially the same seen by Moses or Cleopatra. As everything surrounding me became flooded with light, it seemed that time stood still in awe of the beauty of God's creation. I longed to be in it--to fly over it and to take it all in, if only there was a way.
And then I saw it. The bungee jumping platform in the distance. Some of my team members where planning to jump the next day before we went rafting, but I had never even given the possibility a thought. Of course I wasn't going to jump. I had no desire to, nor a good reason to, plus I would say that my fear of heights is up there with my fear of snakes. But in this moment of freedom, my desire increased at a rate faster than the Grinch's heart, and jumping off of that platform became a metaphor in my mind to the new found freedom that I was experiencing in Christ--a freedom that drives out all fear because of His unfailing love--a freedom that is new and exciting and mysterious. And it was a freedom that was beckoning me: "jump."
So I signed up to bungee jump. My team poked fun at me on the way there because I kept listening to a song on repeat on my iPod: "Brave" by Nichole Nordeman. Looking back it was funny, but the words were so true--of God, it says "you make me want to be brave." I walked with confidence up to the platform with the others, trying not to look down. I decided I wanted to go first--I couldn't give myself more time to dwell on the reality of the ridiculousness I was about to encounter. And as I stood at the edge, my ankles bound together and my toes dangling, the bungee master lowered my arms and began to count down: "three, two..."
As he reached "one", I remembered the words from the Nichole Nordeman song I had listened to on repeat just before: "if you believe in me, that changes everything."
And then I jumped.
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