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A Day in the Life...

Issue VII // January 2024

Sometimes I can hardly believe this life is actually what I'm living. Anyone who heard my childhood plans from age 12 ("plans," because they were more than dreams to me, though many didn't believe it), knows that they actually came true, in a way. After reading an autobiography of a survivor of the Rwandan genocide, I decided that I was going to be a missionary. I childishly wanted to help people with what I had; I wanted to tell them that there is hope. There is hope in a God who loves them, grieved with them, and died and rose to save them eternally. I wanted to tell the people from both tribes that there was another Way. There was something other than hate and pain and darkness in this world. There is True Love in Jesus Christ. So I started to plan for my future life. And the childish dreams started to mature and take shape.

When my mom asked me, "what are you planning to study for your major next year at university?" I naturally responded "French," because I was planning to continue my studies in the language from high school, in order to better communicate with the Rwandan people. Especially since no one around taught Kinyarwanda. "Okay..." she replied, "but how about adding something practical that will make a living, like nursing or engineering?" I thought I hated science at that point, and I actually enjoyed math, so engineering sounded like more fun. But my younger brother was just recently miraculously cured of leukemia, and nursing helps you reach people in a way that engineering cannot (also, I didn't like the idea of sitting on a computer for hours on end). I thought that eventually everyone comes to a hospital, so that would be an easy way to connect to them while also helping them in a practical and physical way. So I double-majored in French studies and nursing, equipping myself for a life overseas.

Right after graduation, I got the opportunity to go to a friend who was in Uganda. It was Thursday when I heard she could use some help while she was in the middle of an adoption and my sister said she would fund my trip. On Saturday, I said yes I want to go but I'm taking my nursing state board exams next Wednesday so it will have to be after that. So the next day (Thursday), I was on a plane by myself for the first time, and also leaving the continent for the first time. I touched down in Uganda over 24 hours later, and began to fall in love with this country that was bordering Rwanda. Over the next few years, I returned to visit Uganda multiple times, and also completed a discipleship training school through YWAM. At the school, I met a man who I didn't know would become my husband and then the father to our daughter. The whole time, I kept thinking that even though I feel at home in this country, I was on the wrong side of the border, and French was a pretty useless language to know in this English/ Swahili/ Luganda - speaking nation [and of course there are over 50 other tribal languages spoken here, none of which are French...]. But I started living here when we were married, and I realized that I did become a missionary, just not in Rwanda. And I still had something to share with the people here. This country was also affected by the consequences of the genocide, in addition to other problems. I had learned over the years that every country was filled with evil things and filled with broken people, and everyone needed the hope and love of God. I began to serve with YWAM, our local church, and even put my medical career to use at a hospital in a different village.

I wake up now and I look outside at plantain branches swaying before a tropical storm; I hear the local cows lowing with the skin of their neck dangling and large horns curving up to the sky as someone herds them down the road to find a field to graze in; I take a walk up the hill behind our house to enjoy the way the sunlight makes Lake Victoria glitter; and I wonder at the way the dam bridge holds back the waters of the Nile River as we cross over it on a boda. If I were a tourist, this would be an adventure to a "tropical paradise." And I was a tourist, and I did enjoy the tropical paradise as we explored the lake and river, safaris, and waterfalls in the jungle. But now this is my daily life. I live here! And I'm on mission, though it currently looks different with our now two-month-old daughter added to our lives. So this is why it's sometimes difficult to believe that this is actually my life. The childhood dreams grew up and became my reality.

But it's not all fun and games, and love and hope. It's real life, not a vacation, so it's hard and frustrating and exciting. There is corruption from the officials as we try to get my husband's and daughter's documents. There is joy and laughter and squished loudness as over 20 people come into our two room home to visit and see the newborn, though a few have to stand outside since the living-room/ dining-room/ kitchen floor is filled with people sitting on one mat and our three chairs. There is confusion when people start giving us "milk money" for the baby even when they see me breastfeeding, and then my husband has to explain that is just the way the community supports the new parents with a gift. Which reminds me of my confusion when someone tried to give me "transport" after I attended a school management meeting, and I couldn't understand why they insisted I take it even though I tried to explain that I'm just walking a few hundred meters to reach home. I didn't need to take any transportation. So this warranted another need for someone to take me aside and explain that "transport" is just something like a token of appreciation for attending. I understand all of the English words in Uganda, but I don't always understand the local meaning. There is sadness and disgust and horror as I hear of another youth in the church who was taken advantage of by a male relative in the village, where parents often send their children in school holidays, sometimes because of the high cost of feeding them at home. There is busyness and happiness in doing the accounting as a new discipleship training school starts and they ask me to be paired to a student for 1 on 1 mentorship. There is fear and nervousness and surprise at being the only one present to help deliver a baby in a home birth after only 1.5 months of training with midwives, but neither of the two real Midwives who were supposed to be there arrived. There is loneliness in not feeling safe to take my newborn anywhere on a boda and we don't have a car, so we're stuck at home together on Christmas day while my husband has to go direct the children's production at church. There is bewilderment in becoming a parent in a different country, away from your blood relatives and familiar medical systems, and appreciation for the young lady from our church who came to help out at our home. There is anticipation for a new year, new goals, and a hope for forward motion - moving forward in ministry, documentation statuses, and experience in parenthood. And there is always love and hope, even in the most frustrating and difficult times. We have seen God move with us through every situation. Even when we start being tempted to give up, God provides a way forward, and we realize that He has overcome every obstacle for us.

So here we are in our little lives. Day by day, we're on mission. Mission to love our neighbors, to be faithful in our work, to mentor the youth and children, to serve God in whatever ministry He calls us into, even when it doesn't look like what we had planned. I've realized that being a missionary for a Christian is just being alive. Doing life day by day, loving God and loving people; whether you're in your home country, a neighboring country, or halfway across the world on the equator, we are simply called to love.

*** since the previous post (which was almost a year ago 😬😅) :::

we found out I was pregnant, I stopped volunteering at the hospital that was an hour long boda ride away, I went back to the States for the first time in over 1.5 years for a family reunion (where all of my siblings and parents were together for the first time in over 10 years!), I took my leave from the YWAM accounting office and leading the worship team, I gave birth to our beautiful daughter, we celebrated our second anniversary, and my husband was chosen as the youth pastor (in addition to being the children's pastor) as we entered 2024.

I have so many photos to share, but I'll try to narrow down to the highlights