Just another day in Uganda

It’s not that I haven’t wanted to write a blog or that I haven’t had time to write one, it’s just every time I sit down to write something I end up staring at a blank page, writing a few words, deleting half of them, writing a few more, then getting frustrated, ditching the blog idea and posting a facebook status instead. I’ve been searching for something big to write about, but everything that has been going on seems to be adequately expressed in a simple facebook status.

Ryan Painter had a great time playing ultimate Frisbee and human knot with street boys today.

Ryan Painter had an amazing bible study this evening with the D-House guys!

Ryan Painter enjoyed some African snacks today… fried grasshoppers and a live flying ant.

Ryan Painter just hiked through the rainforest with monkeys swinging over his head.

Ryan Painter loved discipleship with the boys at Grace High today.

Ryan Painter ventured into town by himself for the first time, Success. 

We have been here 2 months as of next Tuesday and for the most part the newness and glimmer of everything has somewhat faded and we have realized that what we are doing here is just life. I haven’t felt the need to write a blog recently, because I haven’t felt like anything extraordinary has happened. Every day seems like just another day in Uganda. 

Monday I was reminded of the beauty that lies in ordinary, everyday moments. I went into town alone to meet up with my friend Henry, an 18 year old former street boy who now lives in what is called the Discipleship House with 5 other former street boys and two uncles. After meeting Henry at a familiar location, we hopped on a boda boda and went to Nakumatt Oasis, a very nice shopping center. We spent the afternoon talking, studying, laughing, walking around, and just having a good time. Mallory says we basically just had a man date with a little tutoring thrown in on the side, ha. On my hour long taxi ride home I could not wipe the smile off of my face at how great the day was and how at home I felt. Enjoying an afternoon with a friend at the mall… just another day living in Uganda.

Over the last few days, however, that same feeling of being at home here and being comfortable with my surroundings brought so much conviction. As we have gone from program to program reaching out to the street boys here, I’ve realized that the shock, the anguish, and the broken heartedness that came with seeing and hearing about the young boys that live on these streets has almost become normal to me now, too normal! I was absolutely disgusted with myself, how could I find any kind of normalness in a small boy fending for himself on the street with no guardian looking out for him? Walking past a street child collecting bottles and scrap metal… just another day in Uganda.

And then the conviction grew even more… how complacent have I become since being here? Is it enough for me to spend a few hours with the boys out on the street and then come back to my gated house, my food-filled table, my mosquito net-covered bed? Even now after a wonderful skype conversation with my amazing friend and sister Kristen Powers the conviction continues to grow even more… how normal has all of God’s creation become to me? I remember staring in awe at some of the beautiful scenery when we first arrived here. Now it is on the verge of becoming normal. A picturesque view of a valley, a once foreign landscape, monkeys… eh I saw those yesterday… just another day in Uganda.

We so desperately yearn to feel normalness and we find comfort in that feeling, but what is normal? As Kristen was telling me, nothing is normal! The breath you just took, that breath was brand new, never taken in by you before and never to be taken in the exact same way again. Everything ordinary in our lives is so extraordinary. I cannot imagine God ever getting bored with His creation, so why should we?

My prayer is that I… that we… will yearn not for the normal, but for the abnormal. That instead of finding security in the familiar, we will look past the ordinary, whether that brings discomfort or a newfound appreciation. That we will see the pain, the suffering, the loneliness, the hopelessness that we overlook every day, and that we would reach out to those trapped in those chains. That we see the newness of everyday, the distinct scenery, the one of a kind sunrise, the unique squirrel that just darted in front of your car (that looks like every other squirrel to us), and that we would praise God in awe at His vast creation. I pray that no day is just another day.

Visible Children

The sun sets on the city of Kampala, yet the night is still young. The frequency of passing taxis, boda bodas, and pedestrians begins to decrease as everyone heads home for the evening. Yet the streets still find themselves occupied. The very sidewalk that businessmen and women, school children, and visitors tread upon throughout the day is the same sidewalk than approximately 10,000 boys call their bed tonight, call their home. It’s around 11 pm and there is still enough traffic to make drifting to sleep difficult. Small alcohol bottles that have been emptied long ago by the boys now find new purpose as cleaning agents and other chemicals are dumped inside in order to huff. By midnight traffic has settled, however, the arrival of free rolls and juice brings new excitement as the boys wrestle to acquire some sustenance. The food not only attracts the starving boys, but also draws in some boda boda drivers who find it cruelly humorous to seize juice from the adolescents and mockingly chug it in front of them. Once the food is quickly devoured, the boys begin to settle, lying down thin, often dirty, pieces of cardboard as mattresses. There are no lullabies to soothe them to sleep tonight, only the hollering and screaming being produced from the fight around the corner. Eyes close as a dozen or so policemen run past to put an end to the quarrel. Prayers are that tonight is not one of the nights that these same armed policemen decide to round up the boys, beat them, and throw them in jail.

The African heat is now far gone and the boys retreat their exposed feet, legs, arms, and heads into their worn out, dirty charcoal sacks. Rest is taken in shifts and after only a few hours several boys jump up to begin scavenging, leaving the cardboard and sacks for their friends returning from foraging through the streets. By 6 am the sun has begun its ascent into the sky and the remaining boys pack up their belongings in preparation for the new day. The same charcoal sacks used at blankets find another use as they are packed with dirty, plastic bottles and pieces of scrap metal found on the streets, in ditches, and down alleys. After hours of hunting, the collections are brought to a messy shack where a bag full of bottles is exchanged for 300-1000 Ugandan Shillings ($0.11-$0.35) depending on weight. With this small profit in hand, the boys race off to spend most of their earnings on breakfast before repeating the scavenging/collecting for the rest of the day.

This is how our team spent last night/this morning. Four Americans, three Northern Irish and a few Ugandans sleeping on Jinja Road alongside just a few dozen of the thousands of street children in Kampala. All throughout the night, even as we slept, people would just stop and stare at the crazy whites sleeping on the street. It made me wonder, how often do they stop and notice the small boys that sleep on that street every night? Does it ever cross their mind that it is just as crazy that they sleep there? The night was truly humbling as I saw God using us to show those kids - His kids - His love for them. It was just one night, but the experience will not soon be forgotten, as our eyes were opened even more to the daily (and nightly) lives of boys that we are here to serve. We did not overlook the boys on that street last night. We saw them. We acknowledged them. We loved on them. God does not overlook those boys. He sees them. He knows them. He loves them. 

But You have seen, for You observe trouble and grief, to repay it by Your hand. The helpless commits himself to You; You are the helper of the fatherless. –Psalm 10:14

God is good... All the time

The past two and a half weeks have really been eye-opening. They have reminded me about just how blessed/spoiled I really am and how every day I take these blessings for granted. A week ago, I met a ten year old boy named Sharif who was taken in by a Muzungu (white woman) named Anya. Maria just kept saying how good he looked and how healthy he was now and went on to explain that this cute, little boy was nothing but skin and bones, close to death, because of a drug addiction that he had. I still cannot even wrap my mind around this innocent, little boy living on the streets, even worse addicted to drugs because it was the only thing that made the suffering subside some. This is just one of the numerous, powerful testimonies that I’ve heard over the past couple weeks. What is encouraging about each of these testimonies is that in the end, each of the boys telling me their stories mentions how great God is for bringing them off the streets, for providing them with a home, an education, people who care for them and for God’s overall provision and love.

Those testimonies and those boys had already begun tugging my heart, challenging me to become more thankful for what I’ve been given, but today I heard another testimony that shook me even more. This morning I had the blessing of getting to meet Chad Allen, a thirteen year old who had been on the streets since he was six. Chad ran up to me as soon as we arrived at street reach this morning, grabbed my hand, and didn’t leave my side until we left. Amongst learning how to say lion (Mpologoma), goat (Mbuzi), and cow (Nte), I also had the opportunity to learn a little bit about Chad’s life. Chad’s mom died when he was young and as many Ugandan men do when their wives die, his father brought home another wife. Between the new wife not wanting Chad or his brother in the house, his father bringing home another woman which infuriated the 2^nd wife, and his father’s drunken rage, Chad and his brother were forced out onto the streets to fend for themselves. Chad told me that he had not seen his brother since 2007 and had no idea whether or not he was alright, or even alive. He then went on to tell me some of the many hardships of growing up on the streets, which sadly have become all too familiar for me to hear about recently. What came out of his mouth next, however, caught me off guard. Right after telling me about how much he has struggled in his short life he said, “God is good all the time, all the time God is good!” Wow! I mean it’s almost expected to hear a boy taken in from off the streets by a Christian organization to say that, but to hear those words come from a boy still on the streets with one outfit, worn out shoes, no bed, no parents, no clue where his brother is, and no guarantee of food and water when he needs them? This challenges me so much! I don’t want to just be thankful, I want to be content! If a boy with so little can love and praise God for what he has been given, why can I not be more than satisfied with all that I have? I want to live every moment realizing that God has already provided more than enough for me. It may not be the best, the newest, or the prettiest, but it is enough because He is enough.

Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. – Philippians 4:11-12

And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus. – Philippians 4:19

Our Journey Begins

Wow it is only day 5 in Uganda and I already feel like so much has happened here! While I would love to share every moment with you all, I’ll simply list some highlights to keep this post under 3 pages. The past few days have been full of:

• Hearing kids scream “Muzungu!” everywhere we go. Muzungu meaning white person.
• Being heartbroken as 5 of the boys from the New Life Homes shared their stories of growing up on the streets in fear and loneliness with little, if any food and shelter.
• Rejoicing as the same boys praised God for bringing them off of the streets, providing for them, and loving them! 
• Spending hours with Sharrif and Bob (two NLH boys) laughing as they attempted to teach me words in Luganda.
• Watching our team become a family.
• Watching our translator, Maria, become part of our family.
• Spending hours with Maria laughing as she attempts to teach me Luganda.
• Hatching sea monkeys.
• Having nightly talks with Andrew.
• Laughing at Mallory and Katie’s ridiculousness.
• Serving alongside volunteers from Ireland, America, and Uganda who have a passion for helping street children.
• Going to a high school talent show with worship more genuine than many churches in America.
• Having family bible studies.
• Taking walks down our road.
• Waving at our neighbors and seeing their responses.
• Enjoying amazing meals made by our cook, Sarah.
• Seeing over 150 street boys’ faces light up when given a simple plate of rice.
• Playing soccer with street boys and watching them forget all their problems for a few moments.
• Seeing God.

Impoverished

Impoverished (adj.) - poor enough to need help from others [syn: destitute]

Less than a week until my team and I begin our six month adventure in Kampala, Uganda where we are going to help the orphaned street children and impoverished residents of the city and I am left wondering, who is more impoverished them or us? When I read the definition above I could not help but to sneer at the audacity of the statement… poor enough to need help from others… How many people go on missions trips with that mindset? “The people where I’m going need my help!” Wow. Yea, I know I have been extremely blessed! I mean I’m sitting here on my king-sized bed in my air-conditioned home, writing a blog on my laptop via wireless internet while there are children sleeping in the streets without food, but what they need cannot be given by me. What they need is Christ and honestly they may be closer to Him then we are. 

Sunday I had the amazing, random opportunity to meet and talk with a pastor from Kampala who just so happened to be in the same little town I was visiting in WV. Talking to him was such a huge blessing, but as he described the faith he and his church family had I was disgusted with my own. Here is his church meeting under a borrowed tent full of holes, which leaves the group subject to the cold rain and the hot sun. Church members give up seats under the slight protection of the tent so that visitors can enjoy the more privileged seating. Furthermore, their faith is not seen only on Sundays, but every day men and women wake up and walk all the way to the church to sing praises to God at 6 am. Ha! Imagine seeing this in America where we consider sleeping through church at 10am because it’s raining outside or our Sunday is completely ruined if we arrive at church to find that the air condition is broken and someone is in our seat!

After talking with the Ugandan pastor for a little while someone else chimed in telling the pastor, “you (Uganda) have everything America doesn’t.” And it is so true! Sure they may not have the material wealth that America has been blessed with, but they have real wealth. Yes, they may lack some of the luxuries of life and many are even without food, shelter and clothing which is a genuine problem, but what they do have is a daily, thriving relationship with the ultimate Provider! In the meantime we are filling our lives with useless toys and gadgets and are missing out on what we really need, what they have. So as I prepare to go over and physically help the people I meet in Uganda and share God’s love with those who have not yet heard of Him, I pray that God uses those I come in contact with to stretch me and show me the destitute areas in my life, because when it comes down to it every one of us is impoverished in one way or another. I am not trying to belittle the needs of Uganda in any way, I am simply noticing the poverty-stricken areas right here at home. We are all poor enough to need help from God.

"The irony is that while God doesn’t need us but still wants us, we desperately need God but don’t really want Him most of the time." -Crazy Love