Detaching

Detaching.

I have found myself saying this word to myself on numerous accounts over the past few days.

When Term Three began, I realized that it was my last term teaching my class. I also realized that I only had a few months left of Football Saturdays, and even less time messing around with the kids in the P7 class.

Throughout the year I have spent every moment possible with the students of NCC. I couldn’t ever get enough of them. But lately, I’ve found myself excluding myself from them. I leave school as soon as possible, spend lunch in my classroom working on lesson plans, or sitting in my room distracting myself with some TV series.

I thought maybe it was because I’ve been dealing with issues, that frankly shouldn’t be my issues, but I’ve realized it’s not that. When I first caught myself saying “detaching” to myself, it hit me. It hit me hard.

I’ve come to the realization that next week is mid-term exams. Term Three is halfway over. P7 has just three weeks left at school. And I leave Uganda in 68 days.

In 68 days, I say goodbye.

And I’m not ready to say goodbye.

So I’ve been detaching. Like a band-aid. I’ve slowly begun to pull it off, instead of all at once.

But I’ve also come to the realization that every day I spend detaching, I am later going to regret.

So it’s time to focus and time to reattach and enjoy every moment I have left with my favorite kids.

And now that I’ve been honest about how I’m feeling…I am going to go outside and light some sparklers with the kids to celebrate Uganda’s Independence day!

I Wrote a Book

School is back in sesh. Woo-to-the-hoo! 

After what seemed to be the longest holiday ever, I am happy to back in the classroom teaching. I was amazingly surprised to see that ten out of my eleven students showed up on the first day of school. Nothing too exciting has been going on besides the story I am about to share with you. I was going to keep this story I've written to myself...but I thought it was blog worthy, I needed something to blog about, and well I thought it was funny and wanted to share. So here you go...this is my book that has been based on a true story...

--> I Don't Have a Title <--

(typical)

Last week my teacher surprised our class with a class pet. I was hoping for a bunny or fish, but she gave us rocks. I actually thought mine was pretty cool. He had eyes glued on his head with a crooked, red and glittery mouth. Anyhow, we tried to convince Teacher Kelsey to go down the road to buy a pet rabbit, because let's be honest, no one wanted a rock as a pet. What do you even do with a rock? I did make headphones for my pet rock, which I named Transporter Pt.1, out of ticky-tack from behind a poster on our wall. Although Teacher Kelsey made me put the ticky-tack back behind the poster.

Emma and his pet rock, Transporter Pt.1

She is always telling us that the posters fall off the wall when we take the ticky-tack, but what she doesn't realize is that they fall because we play rough in the classroom. The only reason our Bucket Filler poster was on the floor this morning was because Richard was on the desk fighting Leonard. 

Back to the class pet situation; teacher Kelsey said a big "NO" after we asked about a pet bunny. She claimed that if we couldn't take care of plants, then there would be no way we could care for a rabbit. Perhaps we had killed the plants, but she could have at least let us have fish. Those are simple to care for. You don't have to walk a fish or clean up its stinky poo. 

Since there was no convincing Teacher Kelsey to find a more suitable pet for our class, I took to the task myself. I had already given Teacher Kelsey her own pet kitten, so I couldn't repeat that one. But I did remember seeing some fish in the creek down by my house the past weekend, and like I said, fish are easy to care for. There's no way Teacher Kelsey could deny our class a pet fish if she had accepted the kitten I gave her. 

So after school, after the whole pet rock situation, I dropped my backpack at home, found an old ice cream tin and raced down to the creek. It took some effort but I managed to catch three fish. All that was left was to surprise Teacher Kelsey the bext day at school with our new, and much better, class pet. 

The next morning I woke up extra early to ensure that I would have plenty of time to get the fish to school safely. When it was time to leave for school I slung my backpack over my shoulders and carried the fish in their ice cream tin as carefully as I could. I managed to carry them all the way to school and into the classroom without spilling all of their water, and set them on my desk to wait for Teacher Kelsey to see.

"Oh, wow!" she said as she placed her lesson books on her desk.. You know, the “oh wow” where the teacher pretends they are excited. Right then I knew we had some convincing to do. I explained that I brought a class pet that was simple to care for and that I had even caught a Mad Fish. Those are the hardest fish of all to catch. But she clearly didn't understand that Mad Fish was a type of fish, not a just a crazy fish. It made no difference when the Mad Fish jumped out of the ice cream tin in the middle of our math lesson and began flopping around the desk. Thankfully Isaac picked it up by the tail and plopped it back into the water. But only moments later Vanesa spilled the whole ice cream tin of water onto Teacher Kelsey's books. 

Convincing Teacher Kelsey that having fish as a pet was not going as I'd hope. She picked up the ice cream tin and walked the fish right out of the classroom. She said it was disturbing the class, but I think it was just adding some much needed excitement. Who wanted to practice subtraction anyhow? Boring. 

Our pet fish

When she returned to class she informed us that she had dumped the fish outside, giving them a proper home where they would no longer disturb our class. After all my hard work of catching the fish and carrying them all the way to school, she just dumped them. I spent the remainder of our math class staring at the subtraction problems in my notebook, trying to not think about what had just happened. The bell eventually rang marking break time. As the other kids raced out of class, I slowly arranged my desk neatly, before I headed outside to join them.

When I walked out to the school yard I saw Leonard and Isaac from my class staring into a large orange bucket. I decided to go over to see what it was they were look at. Leonard yelled to me, “Emma! You must see this!” To my amazement inside the large orange bucket were my three fish.

I should have known that Teacher Kelsey was tricking us about dumping the fish. Especially after the time she scared Isaac by putting a fake centipede in his English book. She had liked my class pet and even found a better home for the fish. I will admit that the ice cream tin was a little small for them. Now there is room in the large orange bucket for me to bring even more fish! The other students loved the fish and we even have our pet rocks sitting on our desks in our classroom. I think Teacher Kelsey still likes the pet rocks best.

That's What's Up

I have lived in Uganda for 371 days. That’s over a year of my life, and in retrospect, that’s not very long. Look at it this way, I have been alive for 8,636 days, 371 days spent away from home is not very long; although, if you were to ask my mother, one day away would be long enough for her. With 371 days down, I have exactly 108 days left until “I’ll be home for Christmas, you can count on me.” --My mom is probably doing a happy dance as she’s reading this. (Mom, sit down, stop dancing, the neighbors are going to have proof that our family is crazy if you don’t cool it!)

Anyhow, the past 28 days of my 371 days, I’ve been on holiday; “vacation” for you Americans. Apparently it’s a British thing. Uganda was originally Buganda, ruled by the British, hence the “B” on the beginning of Uganda. Then when “Buganda” gained its independence on October 9^th, “1960-something,” (thank you Mercy and Eron) they dropped the “B” and became Uganda. So, basically what I’m trying to get at is that there is a great amount of British influence on the language here in Uganda; colour, favourite, holiday, and the “B” word is just the name of a female dog, nothing more. Try writing that on the blackboard of a Primary 4 class.

I woke up this morning to the sound of 15 teenagers and rain drops hitting the roof and realized that I am ready for school to be back in session. I may not miss the 6:30am wake up and 2 hour commute to and from school, but I sure do miss my class. And truth be told, I am bored out of my mind.

Just one week into holiday my roommate Erika left Uganda to head back to America. Cool, Erika, real cool. No, I am happy that she is able to be with her family and friends and I know that it was God’s perfect timing for her. But nonetheless, I’ve been on my own trying to entertain myself over the past two weeks.

Proof that I have my Special Pass

For the past month and a half I’ve been dealing with visa issues. I had renewed my visa…too many times, which forced me to apply for a special pass. And let me just tell you that the people at Internal Affairs are the most unhelpful people ever. No joke. I visited Internal Affairs eight times in just two weeks. “It’s not ready, come back.” Do you not realize I just spent 17,000/- on an hour and a half commute here, and now I have to go back, and then come back again? Ridiculous. Nonetheless, after all the trouble and a beautiful, angel of a woman giving me a hug and explaining the last few steps I needed to take, I now have my passport and special pass sitting right here on my desk. I can now remain in Uganda for the next three months without worry of being locked up abroad. Although, I wouldn’t mind starring on that show, since it’s one of my favourites to watch. My mom may have a heart attack if that were to happen. (Mom, don’t worry, I have my special pass! I’ll add a photo of it somewhere in here so you can see proof that they can’t lock me up abroad).

Once that was taken care of, I finally had some time to relax.

Last weekend my friend Thomas…I seem to know many people with the name Thomas these days. Not that it matters or that anyone really cares. Back to the point, my friend Thomas works with a church called Watoto. You are most likely to have heard of the Watoto Children’s Choir. They tour many countries, singing and performing in churches. Watoto has a church, children’s choir, and many other things. So, Thomas invited me out to tour one of the Watoto Villages. We took a nice little drive out of Kampala and a boda ride up a beautiful hill. Thomas gave me the grand tour of the village: The school, the workshop, the church on site, the children’s homes, the uh-mazing babies’ home, the goat farm with goats cuter than the children, and many other things. It was absolutely wonderful being able to see another ministry which is obviously thriving. Seeing another ministry and hearing about their visions got me really excited for Uganda and all God has in store for them. There are many wonderful ministries out here that are changing the lives of many Ugandans. It was such a blessing being able to spend the day out at the Watoto village with Thomas. After the village tour we grabbed lunch and headed off to a Saturday evening service at Watoto Central church. I had been longing to attend a Watoto service since I initially arrived in Uganda, so that was quite fantastic to say the least. We even sang I Know Who I Am by Sinach. If you have not heard that song, oh you’re missing out. That song is the stuff here in Uganda. You can’t go one day without hearing someone singing it.

My kite that lasted longer than both
Peter and Henry's kites. Just saying.

“Take a look at me, I’m a wonder. It doesn’t matter what you see now. Can you see His glory? ‘Cause I know who I am.”

There was one day where I literally just went to town to hang out with students. They are basically my only friends here after all. I’ve spent some time at KHOP (Kampala House of Prayer), have watched a whole lot of Once Upon A Time, found The Fault In Our Stars DVD in the movie bin at an internet café and watched that. Cried a little—sad movie right there, but amazing book! Read it. I’ve cleaned my room about 14 times if that interests anyone. Henry, Peter, and I made kites last week. Within the first five minutes of flying them mine had hit Henry in the eye, Henry's was on the roof, and Peter's was all tangled up. Another day I took Margret Mae grocery shopping with me and went on a wild goose chase looking for the book…I don’t even remember what it was called, something by Charles Dickens. Margret Mae had to continually remind me of the title.

Margret Mae and I on our boda
ride back from grocery shopping.

I visited Joseph and his mother the other day because I wanted to see them and I also needed to give Joseph the Charles Dickens book I had gone on a wild goose chase to find. He needed it in order to attend his English class and himself nor did his mother have the money to purchase it. I did, and this kid is pretty much my most favourite of all time in the history of ever. So how could I not? I wish you could have seen his reaction when I gave him the book. His face lit up like fireworks on the 4^th of July and his mother was full of happiness. This lady is also one of my favourites, by the way. These moments are such sweet reminders of what God has commanded of us as his followers.

When you support me financially your money goes to three places.

1) My monthly $400 room and board cost

2) Football Saturdays

3) Acts 20:35

I have an envelope of cash labeled, Acts 20:35. Acts 20:35 is where I put a majority of my money which I use to support those in need. I should include Deuteronomy 15:4-11 on the envelope as well. –I am quite positive I am in a season of learning to give freely. I am loving it, and loving not worrying about money because hey, God provides.

Joseph, his mom, and I chatted for a while about life and whatnot, he showed me photos of his sponsors and the letters I had written him in the past, and then he took me on another tour of Baha’I Temple. I thoroughly enjoy every moment spent with this kid. Or shall I say young man? He’s making 19 years in November. Hey-ho!

I attempted to DIY some bubble solution for the kids yesterday and with without fail, failed. Nonetheless, Carol, Teddy, and Margret Mae enjoyed attempting to get it to work. In order to make up for the bubble solution fail I decided to have a Glow Stick Mania Night. I wrote a little invitation and placed it on the table in the family room and within minutes Teddy went running outside, invite in hand, screaming, “You’re invited!!!”

Erin had left two packs of glow sticks with me before she left Uganda a few months back, so thank you Erin for providing us with some awesome entertainment! The first game was Glow Stick Hide and Seek. I sent all the children to their rooms while I hid the glow sticks throughout the house. I then turned off all the lights and they had to find as many as they could. Of course with 15 children they started stealing them from each other and you know how kids are; typical. The other game we played was Glow Stick River Jump. I made two ropes of glow sticks by connecting them together and then laid them on the family room floor making a “river.” The object of the game was to jump over the river without landing in the lava. If you landed in the lava you were out. Once everyone had jumped I moved the glow stick ropes further apart.

Peter didn’t make it past the first round with his short legs. Somehow Mercy made it into the last round “because she is flexible,” with long legged Lawrence, and Joseph. I have no idea how Joseph made it into the last round. Glow Stick River Jump was a hit. I wish we had more glow sticks so we could play the game again.

And...that’s what’s up. Basically I am counting down the days until school is back in session. Eight days and counting.

-->YOU BE THE SUN I'LL BE THE SHINING<--

The Best Day

With just 4 moths left in Uganda, I sit on a front porch (or have been for the past four hours) watching some of my boys playing football.

It's hard to imagine not being here. I have a life back in California and of course that's where my family resides. But Uganda has become my life. Watching my students play football on a Thursday afternoon has become my life.

I remember back in the day when my mom would be out for the day and my dad would take my brother, sister, and I to the park. I absolutely hated it. I was obviously much too old to play at the park and watching my younger siblings play was absolutely miserable. 

It's funny to think of how time changes most everything. One of my favorite things to do these days is watch my students play football. I could watch for hours. 

Perhaps it's not even the watching football part, but the simple fact that they have become my world. Much like a child to a father. I love seeing them laughing. I love seeing smiles on their faces. It brings so much happiness into my life. 

I suppose this is how our Heavenly Father feels as he watches us laugh and smile. 

Four months until I say goodbye to the people who have become most important to me in this world. I am beyond excited to be back in California with my family, but how will I bear knowing I can't run to the market to get some football cliets when a student is in need of a pair. Or bear knowing that there's no one to bandage the scraped knees after a Saturday football match. I won't be able to tell my students I'm proud of them, or be there for Margret Mae when she is just bored out of her mind. When all I need is a little Vanesa hug, she won't be there.

But, I am absolutely confident that God's timing and God's plan is always perfect. So I know when I return home it will be in God's perfect plan. I can embrace my mother and father and walk down the street whenever I want to have a lovely chat about lions and tigers with my cousin Liam. 

So with strange looks on their faces, wondering why I'm still sitting here watching them play football after four hours, I give them a strange look back and  send them a smile...knowing that for today, and the next four months worth of days, I have the pleasure of watching them play football, hearing them laugh, and seeing them smile all my heart desires.

"I hope you know that, I had the best day with you today."

"No one has ever become poor from giving"

Finding inspiration to write these blogs to keep everyone informed and up to date on what's going on out here in Uganda can be quite difficult. And then add in 9 hour work days, a two hour commute each way, football Saturdays, trips to the market to buy shoes for kids, lesson planning, and much, much more. Where am I even supposed to find the time to write a blog, while still trying to find time for myself?

I have learned that I can't, and shouldn't, just force a posting, but to wait for that inspiration to come. And low and behold, it finally came this morning during church. 

This season in my walk with Christ has been one of giving. I've found myself no longer worrying about money (finally!!!), especially when it has come to giving. The longer I am here in Uganda, the more I realize how great the need is. Whether it be for a new pair of shoes, a fun day spent at the pool, or just some loving words sent one's way. 

These past few months have been busy as a bumble bee but ones packed full of growth and excitement. 

Girls' Night!

After football Saturdays have been going on for about five months now I decided it was time to bless the girls at school by having a girls night. We spent a Friday afternoon escorting the boys out of the school singing, "goodbye boys, goodbye boys, goodbye boys, may God bless you" before the fun began. We painted nails, played some games, danced, popped balloons and ate some yummy treats. And of course no girls night is complete without fun photos. It was a blast and the girls had the time of their lives. I don't think they had ever received an invitation to a party, which alone sent the excitement skyrocketing. They have continued to ask for another girls night since, while the boys are begging me for a "guys night." Unfortunately I just don't think I can throw one of those for them. 

Anna

Erika and I spent a Saturday at the local swimming pool with a few kids a couple weeks back. We had been wanting to take some kids swimming for a while, so we were beyond thrilled to finally be going. We had planned to take four kids with us, but of course we found three more of my students along the way and took them as well. Seeing their excitement to be in a pool put big smiles on both mine and Erika's faces. We attempted to teach Patrick how to play Marco Polo, but that was an ultimate fail. And the fact that these kids swim as if they are in a pool of pudding, he was never able to tag Erika or myself...even with his eyes open. And thankfully we left the pool just in time to miss a school of at least 40 kids coming to swim. God's timing is always perfect.

Richard

This past Friday Teacher/Auntie Shannon, who taught my P4 class before Taylor and I initially came to Uganda, went to the market ("went to the butcher, with some little money, and flowers in our hair...") to find some new shoes for five of the students. We took with us Issac Ofoyo, Isaac Wamala, Brighton, Ivan, and Collins. It was quite an exciting adventure shoe shopping with five boys. Issac Ofoyo, Brighton, and Ivan made the quickest decision, choosing new school shoes. While Isaac Wamala and Collins took a little more time searching for shoes to wear to Football Saturdays. I was quite annoyed when Isaac Wamala found some Nike Frees, exactly like my own pair, for just 10,000/= ($4). Y'all know how much a pair of Nikes costs in America. The kids were excited about their new shoes and beyond grateful. I was even informed by each of them the next morning at football Saturday that their moms had told them to tell us thank you. You never know what a pair of new shoes could do for a family, and I'm so thankful for those of you who have blessed with money to be able to bless the lives of my students and their families. Next adventure is a search for new backpacks for some of the students. 

William and myseslf

Me, Erika, and Shannon.

Saturday, Erika, Shannon, Erin, Duane, Gorge and myself had all planned to go out to the Cranes football game. As we rushed the kids away from Football Saturday, interrupting the best game we had ever played together (Aunties/teachers, girls, and little boys vs. the big boys), because Duane and George were "sitting in the scorching heat waiting for us," (lies) I heard Jordan talking to William about the Cranes game. I found out that William was going to walk to the stadium to watch the match. The aunties and uncles were all taking Bodas, so I passed my spare jersey off to William and stuck him on a Boda with us to head to the stadium. Upon arriving, I realized he was going to sit outside the stadium and listen to the game (dedication), so I handed him some money and told him to go buy a ticket and to join us. Uganda won 2-0, and I am quite sure William had the time of his life by the amount of dancing he did. We had some fun ourselves!

Erika, William, Shannon, Erin, Myself, George, & Duane.

As I said previously, these past few weeks have been busy ones. And I'll be honest, quite stressful. But this morning as I sat in church Jordan squeezed past me to sit next to me. Then came Suzan claiming the spot between Erika and myself. Patrick then came in pushing Jordan down a seat, sitting beside me. Emma showed up in the row behind us, and then Issac Wamala next to him. 

After a few stressful, busy weeks behind me, I was surrounded by the children I love and adore, in my absolute favourite place. Most Sundays my students sit away from me during church unless I seek them out. But today they each found me and happily spent the church service sitting beside me. 

Uncle George and I were talking one afternoon when he said to me, "you may not realize it, but those students look up to you." And perhaps that's true. Sometimes I feel like they could care less about me, like when they won't listen to a single thing I say to them, or ask them to do at school.  But this morning was a reminder that not only do they mean something to me, but I something to them. It was a reminder that maybe God has made an impact on their lives through me. And that alone satisfies my heart. 

I've found over the past few weeks that Acts 20:25 is spot on. 

"You're far happier giving than getting." 

When we give, we take a risk, but the gospel is to give. We have to get out of our own world and stop thinking of our own needs. I am the solution to some peoples' problems and I can't count the money in my wallet each time there is a need or an opportunity to bless someone. God blesses me with the money I need. The truth is, if I'm not willing to give, I am going to miss out on the essence of the Bible. 

"When you happen on someone who's in trouble or needs help among your people with whom you live in this land that God, your God, is giving you, don't look the other way pretending you don't see him. Don't keep a tight grip on your purse. No, look at him, open your purse, lend whatever and as much as he needs. Don't count the cost...Give freely and spontaneously. Don't have a stingy heart. The way you handle matters like this triggers God, your God's, blessing in everything you do, all your work and ventures. There are always going going to be poor and needy people among you. So I command you, always be generous. Open purse and open hands, give to your neighbors in trouble, your poor and hurting neighbors." 
-Deuteronomy 15:7-11

P.S. Margret and I built a tire swing and I got this rad photo of her on it. 

Harsh Reality

''I was going to write specifically for my blog on this situation, but I decided I would share a few of my journal entries with you. I feel that these are more personal and share how I was feeling in the moment. I ask you to please take a moment to lift Patricia up in prayer after reading. Thank you

Wednesday, June 18^th 2014

I rolled over in bed and switched on my alarm clock and read 6am. With five minutes to spare I found myself in prayer asking God to use me during the day.

The day proceeded as usual, nothing out of the ordinary at school besides the teachers and myself being visited by the mother of one of my students, Patricia.

We had previously heard about the situation she was about to share with us, but had not realized the severity of it. She proceeded to tell us that the previous Friday afternoon, Patricia was outside of her house, running with friends when she grabbed onto a wire that was hanging from the roof of a house.

Let me mind you, this wire was connected to some electric wires and it had recently rained. Barefoot, and the situation as it was, Patricia was electrocuted. She was unable to scream for help as she stood helpless stuck on the wire, electricity running through her body and the flesh on her hand burning.

Luckily someone was near and saw what was happening and quickly grabbed a bench and wacked the wire with it, releasing Patricia from it. She fell to the ground and was unable to speak or walk. They carried her to the road, gave her milk, and quickly took her to a nearby clinic.

Awestruck by the situation, myself and two other teachers decided to head over to her home that afternoon to visit her. I didn’t ever think I would be heading into what I was about to deal with.

Allan, Patricia’s brother lead us down through homes to their own one room house. I took my shoes off and stepped inside where I was offered a seat on the couch. I scanned the home only to realize I was sitting directly next to Patricia who was sitting couched in a corner.

She was her quiet self. I said hello and asked how she was and gave her a fizzy soda and some sweeties. I didn’t ask, but she began unwrapping toilet paper from her very swollen hand.

The anger hit me. How could this happen? This innocent little girl; electrocuted outside her own home. My stomach turned as I saw white flesh in open wounds and liquid seeping out. The smell.

All I could say was that we needed to clean it and clean it well as soon as possible. I knew we had supplies at school, so her mother got for me a boda and I headed over to the school. It was a short, yet tear filled ride. And one spent in prayer asking for God’s help and strength.

I arrived safely back at her home and began the process of cleaning and bandaging her wounds properly.

I joked with her and asked if I was supposed to be her teacher or her doctor. She sweetly replied, “teacher.” I told her how much I loved her and assured her she would be fine and that all things work together for the good of God.

I’ve washed my hands three times and the smell still sits on them reminding me of this horror.

It’s ripping me to shreds. I can’t keep the tears back. Suddenly those cute baby goats were not so cute anymore, but something that only reminded me of the harsh reality of a third world country. These children deserve better. They deserve to be safe in their own homes.

It’s hard to realize that I can’t always protect my students. And it’s hard to accept the risky lifestyle they live. A lifestyle that they have no choice to not live in.

Thursday, June 19^th 2014

Things didn’t go according to planned today. It was actually my day off from teaching so I just hung out around the school waiting for Sherry to arrive to she could go see Patricia’s condition herself.

At one point I was laying down on a seating area around the school, listening to some music on my iPod.

“It’s gonna be a hard day, so hang on, don’t panic, don’t panic, there simply is no need.”

I should have known at that very moment.

Sherry arrived with some team members and we headed over to Patricia’s home. Upon seeing Patricia’s wounds, Sherry called her surgeon and decided we would take her to the hospital right away.

At the hospital, the surgeon came to look at her wounds. He wrote a prescription and advised me on how and when to clean and bandage her wounds. Simple.

Then we waited for the nurse, who took Sherry, Patricia, and myself back into a room where he poured some different things onto the wounds to clean them. Simple. All was good.

But then he began to inject the wounds with something to numb the pain. The injections themselves had to of been excruciatingly painful. Tears rolled down Patricia’s cheeks and screams began to leave her mouth. I quickly rushed to her side to attempt to comfort her. The pain only worsened. The tears came quicker, cries became louder, and Sherry and I found ourselves holding this sweet girl down so we would could get the injections completed.

Tears began to well in my own eyes as I held a 12 year old girl, my student, down on the table. The sight and sounds became unbearable and the simple fact that my P4 student who is bigger than me and stronger than me, I was unable to hold her down.

Sherry yelled for one of the male team members to come quickly. He took my place and I spent a few moments in the waiting room before walking outside, still hearing her screams, and sitting down to let the tears fall and to spend some time in prayer.

I eventually walked back to the waiting room, hearing only faint cries. I saw Barry washing his hands and he came to tell me they had finished.

My sweet girl was a mess and it broke me to pieces. It was a process to get her to the bus and it was a long ride home.

We talked about Bethany Hamilton after she struggled to use one hand to open a bottle of water. We had watched Soul Surfer in our class. And we talked about Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

We were the last to get off the bus and I walked to her to her home and told her I was so proud of her and that I loved her so very much.

She lifted her chin, looked me in the eyes and smiled. I left my sweet girl in a home that nearly killed her.

But Friday, Saturday, and Sunday I will move to her house and clean and bandage her wounds twice each day. And Monday will be a long day back at the hospital getting a check up. Hopefully we will receive good news that her wounds have healed enough to go into surgery. She will need a skin graft.

I never fathomed dealing with things as such, but I am evermore thankful that God is helping this little girl through me.

I simply pray that she knows she is deeply loved and cared about. That when she becomes a teacher one day, she will reach out to her students with love and care.

Today surely was a hard day, but, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

TIA

TIA -This Is Africa

And with living in Africa comes the risk of contracting Mr. Malaria. 

After nine months of living in Uganda I spent a Wednesday morning walking to a clinic to be tested for Malaria. 

On my commute to school this past Wednesday morning I felt a fever coming on and upon arriving at school felt quite weak. Knowing that at least five kids in our children's home had suffered from Malaria recently, I decided it was best to go get tested. 

Of course I did not want to go alone, so I waited for Auntie Lydia to arrive to walk with me to the clinic. The 24hr clinic was closed (TIA), so we were forced to walk further to another clinic. It was there that I was tested and told that I have Malaria. Typical. 

We trekked back to the school where I packed up my things and made a lesson plan for my substitute teacher, Patricia, who is actually just a student in my class. But hey, TIA. 

DIY heating pillow

As soon as I pulled up to the children's home, Erika was boarding a boda to go to the hospital. Turns out she was feeling sick as well. So we both ventured down to our local hospital where she was also tested for Malaria and my prescription was filled. 

Erika thankfully was Malaria free! We actually had the opportunity to see what Malaria infected blood looks like. The let us look at infected blood through a microscope. It was quite interesting. 

My perscription was filled and we headed back home. Day one was not so bad. Fever and feeling
weak. Symptoms worsened day two when I took over 1,000mg of my medication. I don't know if it was the Malaria or the fact I took in so much medication. I felt miserable and found my way to the girls room where I slept on Eron's bed for a few hours. Once the medication settled I felt much better but quite achy. 

"Forever, no matter what, you've got my
 love to lean on, darling. That's what's up!" 

I had the brilliant idea to DIY a heating pillow. I grabbed some fabric I had previously purchased and headed to Auntie Sherina to have her sew a pillow for me. I then filled it with rice with the help of Margret and Ann Grace. Sewed up the hole and it was cute as could be. And there we warmed it on top of our matooke dinner. Worked like a charm and felt amazing on my neck. 

Margret made me tea and I finally had an appetite to eat some dinner and then went to bed early. 

Today I woke up feeling quite achy, but nonetheless so much better. I have my appetite back, and have been up and about all day. I even ventured to the end of the road to purchase some bread for sandwiches for Football Saturday tomorrow. 

Sharing food with the kids at the end of
the road while we wait the rain out.

Or course it rained hard and Erika and I were able to sit outside a shop and hang out with some kids. We were quite happy about this occurrence. 

I just took my last dose of medicine and kicked Mr. Malaria in the butt. Goodbye, see you never.

Malaria was not as bad as people have made it out to be, but I also caught it early which helped. I am beyond ready to get back into the classroom to teach. Sitting around for three days has been quite boring.

With that, TIA.