First Class: Part 2

Back in 2007, I went on a trip to Kenya, We flew with Virgin Atlantic. Our first flight from DC was canceled due to a hole in the plane (encouraging, right?) and they gave us a LOT of miles due to that plus the miles we got from our journey. Those miles were expiring this December and were enough to get me a flight to Nairobi. Sweet.

Ever since I had planned this trip to the States, I had no idea what I was going to do about my 16 hour layover in London. I knew that I didn’t want to spend 16 hours in the main insane area of Heathrow. Due to it being December, I also knew that I didn’t want to spend 16 hours out in the frigid cold. Virgin Atlantic has a lounge in Heathrow for their first class passengers. I had looked at the possibility of buying miles to upgrade to first class purely for the lounge. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen. When I got to the airport in DC, I asked what the cost would be to upgrade to first class. When she quoted $1300, I knew that I was in for a long layover in the crazy main area of Heathrow. She told me to check with the lounge in London to see if I could get a day pass. A day pass!? I didn’t even know those existed. When I landed in London, I went to their counter to ask about a day pass. They directed me to the lounge who told me that I could come four hours before my flight. Um, and what about the next 12 hours? They then directed me to the American Airlines lounge directly below for the meantime. The American Airlines lounge was surprisingly pretty cheap, had great showers, free food, drinks and WiFi. Since I had a bazillion tests to finish for WorldVenture, I settled in and got everything done.

When it was four hours before my flight, I debated on whether to go up to the Virgin Atlantic lounge since I was already so comfortable in the American Airlines lounge. Knowing that I’d never get this chance again, I headed up to the VA lounge.

My first thought upon entering the VA lounge: Oh, so this is what first class people experience.
My second thought: I stick out like a sore thumb. It's like they know my shoes are from Payless and I got my Gap jeans on sale. I shrugged my shoulders and sat down to enjoy an amazing meal. In the lounge, they offered free services to their spa so I got a good manicure. It was incredible. Once my layover ended, I was feeling so blessed. Beginning that day, I had no idea if I’d have a quiet place to get things done and God provided above and beyond. I headed toward my gate feeling productive and relaxed.

When I arrived at my gate, the agent took my ticket and put it under the scanner. It beeped kinda weird and he looked at it again. He then looked up at me and said, “Congratulations, you’re now in upper class”. Um, say what? No. Way. Again? I thanked him and walked into the gate. It was extremely hot, crowded and stuffy but all I could do was marvel. For months, I had been wondering how everything would work out. I’m such a planner and I was worried what would happen in those 16 hours. I had looked at all sorts of options but none worked out. Instead, it all worked out far better than what I had imagined and BONUS, I got first class. Again. How the heck?

I knew from my time searching VA’s website before that their first class was unlike any other. I was right. The “seats” are more like your own little cubicle.

When you want to sleep, the flight attendant comes, flips the seat around and down and boom, you have an entire bed. I slept for most of the flight (thank you Ambien, for all you’ve done in my life) and was for some reason crazy nauseous throughout. I barely touched the meals they gave me and sipped gingerale throughout. Despite that, it was definitely amazing.

I still can’t believe it, really. I mean, this stuff never happens to me…and twice? However, really, God’s hands were all over this. I was checking BBC after I returned and saw that the same day that I was in London, there were crazy protests and riots. They were in all of the areas that I would have headed. I had some tests sent to me from WorldVenture right before I left the States and had been wondering when on earth I’d have the time to complete them. He gave me the perfect time and place to do so. It was also fascinating to people watch. Many people find their identity in that crazy lifestyle.

God is a God of details, as I’ve said many times and again and again, He shows it to me. I don’t deserve His love, His grace, His mercy, His forgiveness…or random blessings like a quiet relaxing place to get things done or even first class.

First Class: Part 1

I’ve been promising this blog for a year now so, at last, here you go. There was just going to be one first class blog since well, it had only happened to me once. Alas, this past trip back to Uganda, it happened again. I'm usually the person that randomly gets pooped on by a bird or randomly selected for an intrusive pat down in security instead of something good like first class. I’m going to divide them up into two blogs since each deserves it’s own blog.

I had just had a great three weeks back in the States. On the way back to Uganda, I had a long layover in Atlanta. Originally, I was going to try to hang out with my friend Jill on my long layover but she ended up not being able to come to the airport so I had lots of time to kill. I got to Atlanta and did my traditional Atlanta airport stops: get a gyro from Great Wraps and a coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts. I got to my gate for my flight to Amsterdam and within a few minutes, they were announcing that they needed volunteers to take a later flight. My first thought was, “I can’t do it. I need to get back to Uganda and have no way of contacting Kate and Kacie if I don’t come on time”. But then, I wondered if it was even possible. I packed my things and headed up toward the counter to see if it was even a possibility. When I finally reached the counter, they told me that I could do it but that I’d be on the same flight the next day.

I was stuck. I had about 30 seconds to decide. I knew that I really wanted to see my friend Jill but, since I didn’t have my American cell phone, I had no way of contacting her. It was like I heard myself saying, “I’ll do it!”. I began to question that decision for the next two hours of my life. In the meantime, I discovered that the guy in front of me was also heading to Uganda. He asked the Delta worker if he could also have first class. The Delta worker told him that he could either have first class or the kick awesome voucher. He chose first class. I chose the kick awesome voucher. They gave me all of my vouchers and I was free to go.

Panic set in. WHAT had I just done!? I am a planner…and I just did something incredibly spontaneous. I walked away from the gate and went to find a place to sit down. I wanted to find free Wi-Fi so that I could get on skype and call Jill. Luckily, Jill’s cell phone number was one of the 3 or so numbers I had memorized. There was no Wi-Fi…and my panic increased. There was a guy and girl sitting across from me and I wondered if they’d even consider letting some random girl borrow their phone. I couldn’t do it….but I was desperate so I had to do it. I asked them, they agreed and I hurriedly called Jill. I’m pretty sure the conversation went a little something like this:

Jill: Hello?
Me: JILL! It’s Sarah and I’vedonethecraziesthingintheworldIjustchosealaterflightsoIaminAtlantauntiltomorrowcanyouhangout!?
Jill: Um…what? Calm down. Say that again.

I calmed myself enough to talk slower and Jill understood what I was saying. She had to figure out what was going to be best and told me to call back in 10 minutes. I said sure…not knowing what I’d do in 10 minutes. I thanked the kind boy and girl and headed out. I couldn’t ask to use their phone AGAIN so I thought I’d wander and see if there was another place that I could get free WiFi. No dice. I found some pay phones but had zero American change on me. There were these Delta workers that were trying to sell something (a Delta credit card? Don’t remember). They kept trying to get people to talk to them so when I approached them, they were clearly excited. I asked one of them if there was a phone I could use or even if I could borrow one of their cell phones. To my surprise, they said “yes!”. I was so surprised that two people at that point had agreed to let me use their cell phone. I called Jill really quick and we confirmed which stop I was to get off on the MARTA, Atlanta’s rail system. I hung up, thanked them, and headed towards the exit. I got on the MARTA (which, by the way, at night, is kind of sketchy) and got off at my stop. I wanted to call Jill again to let her know that I was there…but how? There was this girl that was dressed like an angry rocker. She was my only option. I figured if I’d already asked two others, what was the harm in one more? I timidly asked to use her phone and she responded in the most bubbly Southern voice that I’ve heard in awhile. A voice that did not match her outfit. At. All. I called Jill quick and then waited…in the freezing cold…for a long time. Jill came and we had a great time hanging out. It so happened that Jill and some of her friends were flying to New York City the next day so I would just go to the airport with them in the morning and hang out there until my flight.

The next morning while everyone else checked into their flight, I headed over to check into mine. I got my new tickets and saw that I was in row 3. Um, row THREE? This is an international flight. There is no way that can be anything but first class…right? I didn’t want to assume anything until I was in my seat taking off and in first class so I didn’t get my hopes up. I had meal vouchers from Delta as well so I grabbed breakfast at Starbucks and sat with Jill and her friends until their flight took off. Hugs all around and they were gone. I knew that I needed to occupy my entire day at the airport since my flight wasn’t until that night. I found free WiFi in a food court and settled in. I watched a lot of American TV shows that I’d missed in Uganda. I had dinner there right before my flight, wanting to get the most out of those vouchers.

I went to my gate once again and they called my section up. I didn’t know what to expect. I got on the plane and…there it was. Row 3. First class. Unreal. I put my carry ons away (I actually had to ask the guy sitting next to me to put up my one carry on since I was carrying the entire Wal-mart store in my carry on to take back). When I sat down, I was just waiting for it. I was waiting for them to come up and say, “Ma’am, there’s been a terrible mistake. You actually belong in the back of the plane.” Instead, a stewardess came up and said, “Miss Pisney, how are you tonight? Would you like anything to drink?” She then showed me the menu (oh yes, I said menu) and encouraged me to pick out whatever I’d like for dinner that night. When the plane took off, I was finally convinced that they weren’t going to move me. The food was fabulous. They gave me a down comforter blanket and pillow even though I couldn’t sleep. The guy next to me works on oil rigs throughout the world. It was fun to see his face when I was all, “Yeah, I’m a missionary in Africa…and I have no idea how I got this seat”. He also

The problem? My next flight was from Amsterdam to Uganda. I was back in Economy where I belong. But, I knew. I KNEW what was happening those rows ahead of me.

And it has spoiled me for life.

Beatrice's Story

I first met Beatrice on my first trip to Masaka. We were enrolling 10 new children into Hope Alive! that day. The new kids had come early for us to get their information, take their picture and such. There was something about Beatrice that drew me to her. Perhaps it was her ability to make the perfect fish face. I was drawn to her and we had lots of giggles throughout the day. Since she knew little English, our communication was done through either a translator or silly faces.

Right before my trip to Masaka, my former boss signed up to sponsor a child. Upon meeting Beatrice, I knew that I wanted him to sponsor her. She needed someone who would love her and I knew he and his wife would. At that point, I didn’t know how much she needed that love.

A few months ago, we were contacted by Rose, our site director in Masaka about Beatrice. When we first enrolled her, we knew that her parents were separated. She was living with her father’s mother. Her grandmother died and her father took her to live with him.

The father’s neighbors had come to Rose concerned for Beatrice. Beating children is common here, including in schools. A father beating his child would be nothing out of the ordinary. However, what was happening to little Beatrice was not ordinary. Her father would leave the house for a day or more and not leave food for her. He would beat her so severely that the neighbors began to notice. They saw that she was being starved and abused and went to talk to leader of their district about it. The leader of the district happened to be Beatrice’s grandfather, the father of her father. The grandfather said that because it was dealing with his son, he could do nothing…and nothing is what he did. The neighbors knew that they could not let this continue. Knowing that Beatrice was sponsored through Hope Alive!, they went to talk to Rose. When Rose became aware of what was happening, they took Beatrice to a doctor in order for her wounds to be documented. They contacted her mother and asked if Beatrice could stay with her instead of the father. Details then came out that her father had refused Beatrice to stay with her mother in the first place which was why she was first with his mother and then her. It was pertinent that we get her out of her current living situation and so Beatrice was moved to her mother’s house.

When I heard of what had happened to Beatrice, my heart broke. I thought of how tiny Beatrice is and how the beatings would have hurt her little body. I wondered how all of this effected how she viewed God. Since God is our Father, would she see Him like she sees her earthly father? Would she be afraid that God would hurt her like her dad did? I just wanted to hold her. To tell her that she is loved not only by me, but by God. Until then, I prayed for her. I prayed that God would do a miracle in her heart.

My friends Maria and Gloria came to do mentor training in Kampala but also in Masaka. At last, I was going to be able to go back to Masaka again and see Beatrice! I made plans with Rose for us to go out to her mother’s home to see her. Her mom lives very far away from our site in Masaka, out in the middle of the bush. I could now teach a class on Bush Driving: 101, specializing in topics such as: “What To Do When The Road Disappears”, “Avoiding Potholes: When The Road Is Just One Big Pothole” and “How To Avoid Livestock That Run In Front Of Your Vehicle”.

Beatrice’s father has been making some efforts with her and would often take her home from Saturday Club. That day, he told Rose that he wanted to come with us to her mother’s home. In ways, I was excited about his interest. In other ways, I was concerned how this would affect Beatrice. Her father guided us to their little house and without him, we would have been wandering off somewhere with pigs and goats. When I parked the car, I saw her immediately. I’m smiling just remembering. The timid smile on her small frame. Her recognition of me. The glimpses of fear in her eyes showed how she felt towards her father. When I got out of the car, we hugged for a long time. I didn’t want to let go of her and it was clear that she didn’t want to let go either. We had brought food for the family and got it out for her mom to see. It gave us time away from the rest of the family to talk about all that had gone on.

Beatrice’s mother struggles to find work. She helps different farmers around their house to make a small bit of money but it is not enough to help Beatrice and her three siblings. While Beatrice is sponsored and able to go to school, her mom doesn’t have the money to send her younger brother. The struggle of their lives is evident. The joy that comes from within her bursts from her smile. I wasn’t surprised to hear that she is a born again Christian and it encouraged me that Beatrice had a mother who followed Christ. She explained to us that she still had a rough relationship with the father. Her fear of him was also evident. My heart broke for this little family. Beatrice and I played with each other for a little longer. She can still do one of the best fish faces I’ve ever seen.

In the language of Luganda, “I love you” is “Nkwagala”. To say, “I love you very much”, you would say, “Nkwagala nyo”. I would look down and tell Beatrice:

“Nkwagala nyo nyo nyo!”

She would look up at me and say, “nyo”.

I would repeat back, “nyo”.

And we would continue for awhile adding “very” onto “I love you”.

It was hard to leave. I didn’t want to let go of her but I knew that I’d be seeing her on Saturday for the Christmas Party.

Saturday came and I knew Beatrice was there when she came and sat on my lap. It was such a great day seeing all of the kids perform in song, dance, skit, poems and more. When the day ended and I had to say goodbye to Beatrice…oh, it was hard. I wanted to cry. I wanted to just hold her and not let anything bad happen to her again. I had someone translate for me so that I could tell her that not only was she loved by me, but that she was loved by God. I waved goodbye and left her in God’s hands.

Please pray for Beatrice’s father. Pray that God does a miracle in his life and that he sees how he has hurt his family. Pray that he sees the need to change. Pray that, above all, he comes to have a relationship with Jesus Christ. Pray for Beatrice’s mom. Life is so difficult for her. Pray that she is able to find more consistent work so that she can provide for her children. Pray that she chooses to forgive her husband for what he has done to her and their children. Pray for little Beatrice. Pray that she works through the hurt and pain that she has experienced in her little life. Pray that she chooses to forgive her father. Pray that she comes to understand the great love that her Heavenly Father has for her. Pray that she chooses to have a relationship with Jesus Christ.

Me Vs. The Coral. Me - 0, Coral - 1.

The first week of October we all headed to Kenya. WorldVenture was having an East Africa Spiritual Renewal conference in Malindi and I for one was excited to be spiritually renewed. God and I had a lot to talk about and I was looking forward to the time set apart to do so.

We had planned to arrive early for the conference so that we would have a day to relax before the conference started. The tide had gone out leaving the coral exposed allowing us to be able to walk around on it. As we walked out onto the beach, a swarm of men came around us, each one wanting to show us all of the different kinds of fish in the tide pools. While they were at it, they also tried to convince us to pay lots of money and go on safaris and boat tours. I quickly realized that I had worn the wrong shoes for this, opting for my zero traction flip flops instead of my lots of traction sandals. The coral wasn’t extremely slippery but walking across it meant jumping over tide pools all on uneven ground. We left the one area of coral and headed down the beach, passing little shops selling scarves and jewelry. We saw a group of people on another part of coral and headed their way. Clearly, they were seeing something cool and we wanted to see it too.

When we joined the others, we saw that they were gathered around a starfish.

There were more Kenyan guides there wanting to show us everything. They brought us to a tide pool with a group of eels, which were creepy looking. I was glad to see them from above and not in the water. We walked on the coral from tide pool to tide pool, marveling over the unique creations of God. It was fascinating!

The guides called to us as they had spotted the illusive lionfish. The lionfish swam throughout the coral tunnels under the water with us going from tide pool to tide pool to keep up with him. I had never seen such a unique and beautiful fish in real life. I couldn’t get a good picture of him because he was so dang fast.

He had swum to another area and Hannah was able to get a good picture of him. I walked over to that tide pool, almost losing my balance at one point. Did I mention that walking on the coral was tricky and uneven, not to mention more difficult by avoiding the open tide pools? Ok, good.

I reached that tide pool and was trying to get a good picture of the lionfish before he swam away. The next thing I knew, I was sliding on the coral into the tide pool with the lionfish. Did I mention that lionfish are poisonous? Luckily, the lionfish swam away and I landed sitting on the coral with my legs in the water. Stunned, I stood up again, wondering what had happened to cause my slide. It was then that I saw that I had been scratched up in the process. My legs were apparently still in shock as the pain had yet to begin. I was feeling pretty dumb at this point.

And then the blood started.

On my first step, I realized that the fall had also broken my flip-flops. I took them off and walked gingerly on the rough coral.
Our Kenyan guides called us over wanting to show us “Nemo”. I told them that we needed to head back to the hotel to take care of my wounds. We walked carefully back over the coral until we got to the beach. I was concerned that sand would get in the scratches. My legs were stinging and my main concern was that we would have to climb a sand bank to get back up to the hotel. I managed it up the sand well and one of the hotel workers saw my wounds and guided us towards the first aid area. We waited for someone to come and I realized that my wounds were more extensive than what I first saw. Somehow, the coral scratches spiraled from my ankle all the way up my left leg. On my right leg, my calf was scratched from my ankle to my knee.

The hotel first aid guy came and unlocked the first aid box. He brought out iodine and started applying it to my wounds to clean them. Oh, that’s when the pain started. I’m not sure if you’ve ever put iodine on an open wound but suggestion, don’t. My roommate is a nurse and later stated that even in the Emergency Room, they delude the iodine, as straight iodine is too caustic. Tears filled my eyes as the cleaning continued.

It. Hurt.

The days after were filled with pain. It hurt to shower. It hurt to sit. It hurt to lay down. It hurt to do most things which cut out any future trips to the beach or swims to the pool. In ways, this was good. It forced me to have more time to focus on journaling and talking to God. It also allowed me to have good conversations with fellow missionaries there.

(this is me trying to be positive…is it working?)

Healing took awhile and even now, almost a month later, you can still see the scars. I’m hoping those eventually go away. Until then, from now on, I’ll be reealllly careful about walking on coral. You be careful too.

Miracles: Big and Small: The Computer Miracle

There are some things that happen that can only be ascribed to God. Last month, one of those situations happened. For months, the charger in my computer had been on and off working. Also, my battery hadn’t seemed to be fitting right. One morning, I woke up to a dead computer because my charger just hadn’t charged all night. That was the start of it all. The timing of everything was impossible but alas, through God, nothing is impossible. I’m putting dates in so that you can see all that happened and the timing of it.

Monday, August 9:
I updated my Twitter at 7:45am:” I think my computer charger bit the dust overnight. Woke up to a dead computer. Um…what to do?”
At 8:15am, my friend Matt, who happens to work at an Apple Store, responded and asked about it. At the time, I thought it was just my charger that needed replacing. That afternoon, Matt happened to be online and we chatted about my computer woes. I told him how my charger sometimes wouldn’t charge when I plugged it in. I offhandedly mentioned how my battery seemed to not be fitting right. When he realized that it wasn’t because of it not being in correctly, he asked if it was bulging. Ah, bulging! Yes, that was the word I had been looking for. It was bulging. When Matt realized that, he got concerned and explained that though most batteries work great, there’s the 1% that are bad. If they’re bulging, they have the potential to explode and ruin the entire charging system. He explained that the situation was urgent.

Tuesday, August 10:
That morning, a woman dropped off a package at the office to send with a woman back to the States. I didn’t know the woman that would be coming other than that her name was Sara.

My battery had been bulging for months. This is probably why I was in such shock that my computer needed repair…and fast. In another conversation with Matt, he expressed that I needed to get the computer back to the States for repair as soon as possible. He meant days, not weeks. Depending on how bad it was, the repair could take anywhere from 2 days to 2 weeks. I panicked. I didn’t know anyone going back to the States anytime soon and even if it got there, how was it going to come back? I remembered the lady that was going to be coming to pick up the box but I couldn’t just ask a stranger to add a computer to her carry on and ship my computer to Matt. Well, until it became my only option.

I knew that I had to hand over all control to God. He’s in the details…right?

Wednesday, August 11:
That day, I turned off my computer and handed my most valuable possession to strangers. Sounds weird, I know. I had talked to Sara on the phone and she so graciously agreed to take my computer and ship it to Matt. Such a huge answer to prayer! She sent some friends to pick it up. It was weird handing my computer over, not knowing how long it would be until I saw it again.

Thursday, August 12-Friday, August 13:
Sara flew out of Uganda and reached Oregon on Friday.

Monday, August 16:
Sara ships my computer to Matt in Wisconsin.

Wednesday, August 18:
Matt receives my computer.

Thursday, August 19-Saturday, August 21:
Matt took my computer in to get fixed. Luckily, my charging system was not affected. Because of this, the repair didn’t take two weeks but two days. They replaced my: charger, battery, top case, touch pad and I feel like something else too. Matt installed the latest software on my computer as well as backing up everything for me and then putting everything back on my computer. He also set up everything on my computer so that literally, when I received it back, all I needed to do was turn it on and all was set up.

Monday, August 23:
Matt ships my computer to Ned and Karen in New York.

Wednesday, August 25:
Ned and Karen receive my computer.

Thursday, August 26:
Early that morning, Karen boarded a flight to Uganda.

Friday, August 27:
Karen was coming with a team to Uganda, Most of the team was staying in a location in Kampala that was about an hour away from my house. However, Karen and two others were staying on my compound, three houses down from me. Friday morning, I walked down to the house and got my computer back.

Literally, there’s no way that this could have happened any faster. If one thing would have gone wrong, it wouldn't have worked out. God was in every single detail and it was stunning to see Him work so meticulously. In the missionary world, we’re used to things not going right and everything taking a LOT longer than expected. I was without my computer for 16 days as it went from Uganda to Oregon to Wisconsin to New York and then back to Uganda. That’s just unreal. That’s just God.


I often forget how detailed God is. It’s such a reminder that though He is the Big Almighty Creator and Savior, He’s also my Abba who cares for every detail in my life. I needed that reminder.

Huge thanks goes to Sara, Matt and Karen. Without each of their willingness, none of this could have happened. It required sacrifice for each one of them (especially Matt, who spent hours and hours working on my baby). You were all a part of God’s story and through that, showed me more about our Abba. I pray that each of you were able to see His work as well.

Blown Out: The Bombings in Kampala

It is interesting to write this entry on September 11th. This date is associated with terrorism and now, July 11th is as well. The following is what the day of and after the bombings was like for me as well as some extras.

July 11, 2010
My friend Mary was in town and we joined another group that went to Ndere Dancers, a show that highlights the different tribal dances around Uganda. I had been wanting to go for awhile and Mary coming gave the perfect opportunity. We had a fun night watching all the dancing. The World Cup final was on that night and they were hurrying to finish so that people could watch it. They were even showing it at the place if people wanted to stay. I was almost tempted. I REALLY wanted to watch it and we don’t have a TV at our house. We drove back home. It was about 9:30-10:00pm. The rugby club is a place we pass daily as it is on our way home. We passed it that night. Inside were hundreds of people watching the World Cup final. An hour later, two bombs went off killing many.

July 12, 2010.
5:50am: my alarm went off. I quickly turned off the annoying sound. It was still dark outside. I changed into my work out clothes as Kate and I were going to go running. As I was about to walk out of my room, Kate knocked.

“I just talked with Catharine…there’s been a bombing…”

“…a WHAT?” I interrupted. “Here!? A BOMB? Like, a BOMB? Who would bomb here!?” I couldn’t believe it. We’re in Uganda, not Iraq or Afghanistan.

Kate went on to explain that they didn’t know yet who was responsible. Since we drive to a certain area of town to run, we would be driving right by one of the bombsites. Catharine thought it’d be safe for us to still go but Kate and I decided to play it safe and stay home.

My mind wouldn’t stop going. The rugby club that two bombs went off is extremely close to our church and the Hope Alive! site. It’s also very close to many of our friends and students. Since it was the last game of the World Cup, it would be no surprise if many people we knew were there. There was another bomb at an Ethiopian restaurant about 15 minutes away from our house.

It was a waiting game to find out more details. Until I knew more, I had to tell Mary, my friend and visitor, what was going on. Clearly, we always want our visitors to have a good time and have nothing bad happen to them and it’s the same here. At the time, details were so scarce that I didn’t feel as though there was anything for us to be scared for our own personal safety. It’s hard to convey that though.

We went to work that morning, passing a man selling newspapers with a gory picture of the dead on front. Our route to work passed the rugby club. Traffic was insane. People were standing around watching the police presence that surrounded the area. There are walls around the rugby club so you’re not able to ever see in. That was a really good thing that morning. It was crazy to think what happened there the night before.

We got to work in time for our Monday staff meeting. It was there that we discovered that we had friends that were there. Shammah, my dear friend who is a Hope Alive! mentor and helps lead the girls Bible study with me, was there rooting for Spain. She was with two of our friends. She still came to our meeting that morning. It was crazy to hear her first hand account. They were two rows away from those that were killed. Two rows. The things they saw that night can never be forgotten. One of our Hope Alive! girls who also comes to the Bible study was there. Molly and her sister went to watch the game. Her sister was one of the dead. I haven’t seen Molly since (which, if any of my Ugandan friends are reading this, have you talked with her? I literally haven’t seen her since)

After the bombings, security was extremely tight. To this day, I can’t get into some grocery stores without my car and purse being searched, sometimes being wanded down. Rumors were flying everywhere about other bombs being found in neighborhoods, homes, schools and more. Luckily, none of those ended up being true. Security has lessened over the last few months but the presence of police is still everywhere.

The media coverage here was a culture shock in its own. While in the States, the media often won't take gory pictures of the dead, but here there is no filter. There are many pictures that remain in my mind due to the lack of filter amongst newspapers here. There was a picture of a man going through the pockets of one of the dead. That's apparently a common practice. Can you imagine? It must have been difficult to identify the dead with all of their wallets missing. There are others that I won't mention so that you won't have those mental images. Too much. The media coverage from outside was another factor. It was amazing the amount of misinformation that had come out. My mom e-mailed me at one point with concern that they were targeting Americans. I really don't know where that came from since both of the attacks were at places where Ugandans hang out. If they had wanted to attack Americans, there are definitely places and times that would have been more conducive for that. But, they didn't. They knew who they wanted to hurt and it wasn't foreigners.

I wondered if it was all too surreal for me or if I was just trying to put on a good face for Mary. However, I don’t think it was either of those. Truly, there wasn’t a time where I felt unsafe. I knew that Americans weren’t the target (no matter what was told in the American press) and the military presence after the attacks was so intense that I felt protected. I also firmly believe that my life is not in my hands but in the hands of my Lord, my Protector. And it still is.

Please pray for Uganda. Pray for no other attacks to occur. Pray for the families and friends of those that died. Pray for the injured that are still recovering. Pray for those that were there that can’t erase the memories. Pray for God to be clearly seen, for people to draw closer to Him and to see their need for a relationship with Him.

*Note: Some of my specifics of the bombing may be off, especially about timing. My memory is hazy of what time they went off and my internet isn’t working well enough to research the exact details.

Mary's Visit; My Perspective

What? You thought that I had shut down my blog since I haven’t written in forever? I KNOW! While I clearly haven’t been the most consistent blogger, this has been a particularly long absence. I have a reason though! My dear friend Mary was here in July for three weeks, life was crazy and then, my computer was back in the States for repair for three weeks. I’ll be splitting those two up in two blogs. I’m such a tease, I know.

Mary flew into Kampala on the year anniversary of my arrival here. It was fun to go to the airport on that same day, reminiscing of when I flew in. We spent the first week of Mary being here in Kampala. It was filled with trips to various markets, exploring downtown Kampala, Saturday club with the kids, church at our church, tutoring kids and more. She also led a seminar to our tutoring teachers about methods of teaching.

We headed up to Gulu after that for Mary to do another tutoring training plus for our Hope Alive! Senior Staff meetings. That Saturday, we went to the Saturday Club in Gulu. One of my favorite things about Hope Alive! (I have many) is that it’s not cookie cutter. Not all of our sites look the same or do things the same way. Kampala, a huge massive city, will need to do things differently than Gulu, a small town where our kids are scattered in the surrounding small villages. I was excited for Mary to see the differences in the Gulu site and I was excited to be up there again. One of the harder parts of being in Gulu is the language barrier. While the kids in Kampala are pretty fluent in English, the kids in Gulu struggle. This came into play for me that day as I helped Shem, our site director, enroll some new kids.

My heart always breaks when I see new kids come into the project. I’ve now been a part of that process in Masaka, Kampala and Gulu. There’s a shyness and uncertainty that each of the kids have. They know their life is about to change. It’s incredible to see the before and after’s of this. I remember the first day of two of our kids in Kampala. They both had dressed in the nicest clothes they owned, which were close to rags. It’s been a joy to see them open up over these last few months. Their shyness has disappeared replaced by their beautiful personalities shining through.

With these new kids in Gulu, their life experiences were unreal. Since I was filling out the information sheet, with the help of a translator, I had to ask some questions that ended up being difficult. I had to ask who they were living with, if their parents were alive and if their parents had died, how they had died. For many, their fathers had died. Pain would fill their eyes as they shared how he had died. With each child, I would place my hand on their knee, look into their sad eyes and tell them how sorry I was. It was a small action but it was clear by each of their reactions that they had not received such sympathy in a long time. It was hard to keep my tears in.

After Saturday Club, Mary taught the tutoring teachers different methods of teaching. In the meantime, Shem informed me that his youngest sister just died. She was only 15. At that time, they said it was cerebral malaria and TB. Weeks after the burial, it came out that she was poisoned by a friend’s mother. As I had talked with the new students that day, I found out that poisoning was all too common.

The burial was going to be the next day with the rest of the Hope Alive! staff coming in the morning. I had yet to be to a burial but had heard a little about them. I knew that Mary and I were both in for a new cultural experience. We drove out to the middle of the bush, literally. We turned by these bushes in the middle of nowhere and ended up by these huts where the burial was taking place. There were no quiet tears of mourning but instead, loud wailing. It was an emotional service. Her classmates wailed throughout. Shem’s mother put on a strong face but the pain in her eyes could not be hidden. Deaths are indeed common here but that day I saw the heartache behind it firsthand.

The rest of our time in Gulu was spent visiting schools. There was a child headed household in particular that made their way into our hearts. I will save that story for another blog as I would hate to shorten it and this entry is already getting long enough.

We headed to Murchison Falls National Park after our time in Gulu. I had warned Mary that I’m one of those people that everything happens to. So, she was warned, right? I had set up a driver to take us to the park who could also take us on a game drive to see the animals after which would take us back to Kampala. It was a mess confirming who was taking us and in what vehicle. We ended up in a white van that looked as though it could shake apart at the next pothole. We arrived safely in Murchison Falls with all the van parts still on. Amazing. As we were waiting for a ferry to get across the Nile, a herd of elephants came within about 50 feet of us. It was amazing to watch them! Game drives start at dawn due to the activity of the animals at the early morning. However, the next morning, there was a problem with the van and we were unable to go on our game drive. Surprise, surprise. Instead, we went to the top of Murchison Falls and then on a boat ride on the Nile. Our main annoyance while there? Our shaky van had no AC and the front windows didn’t go up properly. That’d be fine and all if a certain tsetse fly didn’t exist. If you’re unsure of what a tsetse fly is, google it. Please. Because, if you do, you’ll understand what we experienced. I had heard that the tsetse fly bites hurt but had no idea how much until it happened numerous times on that trip. Holy. Cow. It was either suffer of heat stroke or get bitten by these torturous flies. Great options. We had a great game drive the next day as we watched a lioness and her three cubs wander around.

Back in Kampala, we had only a few days left of Mary’s trip. We visited some of our kids homes here and fell in love with Andrew and Joseph’s mom. She is taking care of I forget how many children that aren’t her own. The love of God flows through her. Through broken English and mainly Luganda, she expressed how God is her Provider all while insisting on serving us tea and mandazi.
On the day Mary left, I was determined that she experience Lake Victoria. We ate lunch in Entebbe, where the airport is, and then headed to the beach. I love having my toes in sand. With that last thing done, we headed to the airport.
It was so great to show Mary my life here. She met the people I love, went to my church, experienced how I get groceries and more. As much as I can tell people what my life is like here, it was great to have Mary live it with me. It was great to see her fall in love with the people here, just as I have. It was great to see God overflow her with love for the people of Uganda, just as He has in me.

Our God is so much bigger than all us and works His plan in our lives. I love seeing glimpses of it. In the three weeks that Mary was here, we were both able to see many many glimpses of our great God. To Him be the glory.