My heart is heavy these days. So heavy in fact, that my chest literally aches. I am not sure how it happens... getting so attached and falling so in love with people in such a short amount of time... but although this process is indescribable, its reality is clear and sharp. I have found myself on the verge of tears several times this past week while thinking about leaving this place, these people, and this experience of life and community here. I am not even sure where to begin in reflecting on the past few days. I am almost apprehensive to even try to articulate some of the week's interactions. Apprehensive because I don't want to water down the experiences that we've had, and apprehensive because I don't want to strip them of their raw beauty by creating descriptions with words that do not do those moments justice.
As many of you know, I contracted malaria in the last days of our time in Anaka. I am sure that at hearing this, many people may be feeling stereotypes of Africa affirmed in their minds... or are responding by saying that is exactly why he/she does not travel to this beloved continent. But when people think of Chris and my journey to Uganda, I don't want them to think of our struggle with malaria in this way. I am thankful that I went through the experience of this disease. We have been living in community and in solidarity with the beautiful Acholi people, and the reality is, most developing nations, including the Acholi...face diseases like malaria daily. Adults and children fight malaria regularly. I caught a glimpse of their suffering, but through that suffering I captured an overflowing cup of their blessing.
The Acholi value relationships. They love hard. They love people and invest, daily, in their friendships and families. During my sickness, I was able to observe the magnitude of their love for friends and community. While I was bound to my bed at the parish, my room was constantly filled with visitors... students, teachers, administrators, and church members visiting me to hold my hand, pray, or just sit to keep company. Tears would stream down my face in an overwhelming feeling of gratitude... that in the midst of my physical weakness, God was providing me immeasurable spiritual strength through His Body- believers in Uganda and in the U.S. praying for me in that moment.
I pray that this is the truth of the story that comes out and is repeated... that in the midst of struggle and suffering, the Body of Christ unifies and reflects the powerful love of God. I will never forget the relationships that God allowed me to forge in Northern Uganda. The people there have left a lasting impact on my life. Florence taught me to view suffering through a lens of mercy and grace, Doris taught me to joyfully give myself to others in selfless friendship, and Father Martin affirmed in me that a life that lives to serve others is a life that is more fulfilled than with any other pursuit. These are only a few examples of the lessons that I learned from my Acholi brothers and sisters on a front porch over tea, on a long walk crying together, and through many dinner discussions. I pray that we may all begin to shed the layers of our lives that isolate us from one another... materialism, profit, image, selfishness, fear, pride, etc.... and embrace the beauty of allowing ourselves to truly feel what it means to be human- being connected to one another through relationships based in grace and love. Let us learn from the Acholi. Let us learn from Christ. I love you all. Thank you for your prayers and for travelling through our processes and throughts along this journey... we will have a few more posts before we wrap up the blog.
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