Over Thinking

I think it would be bloody wrong of me to tell you that being here in Uganda is all flowers and butterflies. Or shall I say pineapples and sunshine. Let's just be honest, it's been quite cloudy and rainy the past few days. Figuratively and literally.

I can honestly say that I am the most worn out that I've been in a really long time. Caring for a little boy who needs 24/7 care is exhausting. Caring for a boy who misses his mom and dad and wants nothing more than to be with them is heartbreaking. I spent Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday caring for George which posed to be a great amount of work with the frequent leakage of his colostomy bag and simply entertaining him all day.

It is physically and emotionally exhausting. Especially seeing him so unhappy. And then Thursday and Friday I went back to school to teach since that's what I came here to do, and returned home after a tiring day at school, to care for George once again. And don't get me wrong, I love being able to help. But the fact is that I can't do it alone. And the fact is, I can't do it with Izzi, or Myranda, or Taylor. We can't do it together even. The load is large and this little boy wants his mom.

I have struggled with not being able to make things better for George, but have recalled something my mom said to me when I drove home from school one night last year, when Andrew died. I was broken to pieces feeling like I couldn't make things better for Andrew's roommates. I wanted nothing more than to fix the problem. But my mom was blunt with me and told me I couldn't fix things and that I couldn't make things better. I can be there supporting, but it's up to them and time for things to become better. And it's the same with George. He will be happy with time. He will be happy in the presence of his mother and father. I know he knows that we love and care for him, but that alone does not just make things better.

I love and care for George to death. But I miss being able to spend time with the children in the house. I hate feeling like I am ignoring George when I hang out with the other kids, while he just sits in his chair. I miss messing around with Henry or getting hugs for Margret. I miss being able to sit down to read my Bible and write in my journal. And I especially miss playing my guitar. Every moment of the day is being devoted to George, and the fact is, we each need time to ourselves. We are each going downhill quickly. As much as I hate to say that and admit any of this.

So for now I shall try and find rest in the night, for tomorrow may still not be the day that we find joy in the morning.

Please keep George as well as all the aunties and mamas in your prayers. we need it desperately.