This is the journal of my final week of six a mission in northern Uganda, home to 220 kids and staff.

Saturday 5/6

Today, Jess and I had planned to visit Chobe, a safari resort and restaurant, and one of the top ten most beautiful sites to visit (according to some travel app I don’t remember), but Jess is sick with a cold so we are postponing that outing for another day. Because of the change in plans, I slept in and had a lazy day of rest.

When I did get up, I did the laundry I neglected last night, then went to the library WiFi to upload last week’s journal notes. While I was there, I got a text from Robert and Zam, so I stopped by their home, where I got a lesson in matooke (plantain) steaming, which I recorded and posted to Instagram. When it came time to actually mash and steam the matooke, I recorded the process in time-lapse mode, and played it back for Zam and Promise, who had a great laugh about how fast they could move on my camera. When it was done, I was treated to an authentic Southern Ugandan dish, even while residing here, way up north. Zam and Robert come from Kampala, in the South, where matooke is preferred over cassava (yuca root). Here, cassava or posho are the staple carbohydrates.

I napped much of the afternoon, but was awaken by voices on the patio. I received a visit from my friends, K-Morris and Nelson, whom I had not seen in quite a while. It was nice to catch up, and I was a good Ugandan host, and served hot tea, complete with raw, local sugar. Two and a half spoonfuls is customary here. I’m pretty sure Ugandans drink tea for the sugar more than the tea itself. Even at work, the nurses say, “Mucungwa, you take tea. You need glucose.”

For dinner’s dessert, Judith sent Jess and me another bakery treat — pineapple pies. They were the size of little tarts, with filling that was brown, almost like a fig Newton, but far sweeter. I had one, and decided to save the rest for breakfast.

I went to the girls’ dorm to catch up with my friends there. It turns out I missed the girls’ football (soccer) match against Kamdini, the Town across the river to the north. Our girls won 6-0, but had begun to think I had forgotten them. I hung out and got a lesson in making, and then eating, chapati, a fried flatbread. It looks pretty simple and tastes delicious. It is wheat flour dough, rolled out and fried in a large pan. It reminded me of the elephant ears my family used to make with the Mullens at the Indiana State Fair, but without sugar. The girls made me right at home. They even forgave me for missing their match.

Sunday 6/6

Today's sermon referenced: “Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name goes all the glory for your Preaching on the unfailing love and faithfulness of God, and how glory always goes to Him rather than the servant (Psalms 115:1).

Pastor Gitta Francis said this, and I loved it:

“Let them see You in me, Lord Jesus, not me, because when they see You in me they will see the best of me. …Also, only when they see You can they truly know You.”

Then he encouraged us with this word:

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10 NIV)

After church, I went to the girls’ dorm and recruited singers to help me wish my father-in-law a happy 92nd birthday. We sent him a video of ten of us singing “Happy Birthday,” first in the American style, and then Ugandan. Cindy tells me he loved it!

I went out to eat at Traveller’s, the only trustworthy restaurant near Karuma. Over lunch, Jessica tried to prepare me for re-entry, and told me it is a very real loss when we leave people we have grown to love. It was a funny thing being told this by another. That used to be one of my lines when I was the peer support guy at the Sheriff’s Office. I’m already anticipating the grief of saying goodbye to so many precious people here.

I had a nice visit with my dear friend, Robert, outside the office. We sat and talked like brothers catching up, since that is what we now are. It was a great time of honest, iron-sharpening-iron, fellowship of men.

As if that wasn’t wonderful enough, Pastor Gitta came up and officially invited me to his wedding ceremonies the week of October 30 - November 5. Guess where I’m going to try to be that week! I’m thrilled to be included in such a significant event, and I’m told nothing exposes me to the culture of Ugandans like attending a wedding. What a great one to initiate me!

There was a football match between our kids and the visiting team from Gulu. Since the score ended badly, we will just say it was a lovely afternoon. I was where I am happiest at such events — on the sidelines playing with the little ones. There is something about the sound of “Uncle!” coming out of these tiny faces that melts my heart.

At 8:00 PM, Ugandan President Museveni addressed the nation, and announced another Covid-related lockdown. This one has a soft-start, with school closures first, followed by a grace period for all kids to get home, then a ban on travel between districts starting June 10. I was concerned I would have to leave two days early to be in Entebbe before my June 12th return flight, but I have been assured my driver has “essential operator” clearance, and my plane ticket will serve as a roadblock pass. At any rate, I will not need to abbreviate my trip for this lockdown. However, things will drastically change around here. The ministry conference planned for the 10th through the 15th is cancelled. All the kids have gone into “home-school” mode, which I understand they were sort of doing already. The procurement personnel jumped for supplies, because a lockdown causes stockpiling.

I was up way too late talking with friends about the impact of this lockdown. So add sleeplessness for Mucungwa Todd to the list of illl-effects of the lockdown.

Monday, 7/6

It was slamming busy on the General Ward today and there was only one patient in Maternity. Just about the time we discharged a patient, another fighting for his/her life replaced the last one. I was told that one of my patients died during the night, and that always takes a toll.

In the wake of the President’s announcement, there is more emphasis on infection control, but not really where it counts. Like most of America, the emphasis is on the appearance of compliance rather than on clinically significant infection control. We nurses are all wearing masks and washing our hands, but we dry them on the same shared towel, and eat together in a storage closet. “Disposable” isn’t much of a thing here, so beds and floors are cleaned with a wet towel dipped in bleach water and used over and over again. Poverty is expensive!

There was a lot of talk about the lockdown being the hospital’s excuse to keep me here, but it was all in jest, and served a as a welcome ego boost. I really will miss this staff.

Judith spoiled me again at dinner, for which dessert was scones, kind of a sweet biscuit. She must think I’m an army, because she made enough for me and five others to have some now and keep some for later.

I trekked over to the boys’ dorm and then that of the girls, just to chat. After a while I returned to my own quarters for an early night. I was up too late last night. I’m beat!

Tuesday, 8/6

Janet, while teaching me to count in Acholi, said, “Teaching you is like teaching a cow how to dance!” How is that for a commentary on an old dog and new tricks! Later, I found out she was confusing me by adding in some Luwo, a similar dialect.

On the ward, I found out one of my patients, a new arrival yesterday, died on the evening shift. I knew she was in bad shape, but it always surprises me.

Today I got to meet the founder and CEO of the mission. He was very pleasant and welcoming. I look forward to getting to know him and his wife better.

I was invited to join a couple of the girls on a walk around part of the campus, so I did. They showed me one of the unoccupied housing units used by the teachers and the nurses. Each of these brick buildings has twenty units, each with two rooms, about eight feet square. There is a closet outside on the porch that was described as “the kitchen.” The toilet facilities are shared latrines connected to the building with a concrete path. The showers are separate. Each family gets one unit. There are a few grass thatch huts, far roomier, cooler, and with better ventilation than the apartments but, according to the girls, those are reserved for staff members with large families.

The girls showed me one of the pod houses, where the minor children live. Each brick pod house has a main living area attached to an open kitchen, two dorm rooms with four children each, and a house mom’s room, separated from the dorms. It is roomy and comfortable. Each dorm room and the mom’s room have their own toilet and shower. There are seven pod houses in each pod, and four pods. This is in addition to the adult student housing next door to Team House. It was an eye-opening tour. I am amazed at what Ugandans can do with very little resources, and apparently they are equally resourceful with space.

A group of sixteen travelers from Texas arrived tonight, and are staying in Team House. They had planned to host the ministry conference, but since the President’s address last night, plans may have changed. They are young and lively. While they settled in, I went next door and visited with the boys. I’ve gotten comfortable with them, and the older girls too. They have gradually accepted me. I’m glad I was here this long, and wish I could stay longer. When I spoke of plans to move to Uganda, I immediately earned extra credit with the kids. Not too many visitors talk about making Uganda their home.

When I got back to Team House, I heard a few of the visiting missionary team wondering out loud what they will do now that their plans seem foiled. I mentioned that I arrived six weeks ago with no plan at all, and it has gone splendidly. That seemed to take a little pressure off our anxious visitors. It feels funny being the experienced one in the house. It happened before with the Burlesons, but I’m playing the role of a peer host. It’s a comfortable part for me.

Wednesday 9/6

Today I took the day off from work to visit Chobe Safari Lodge, just outside Karuma, for a brief lunch outing. Jess was kind enough to accompany me, though she was still nursing a cold, but she was a good sport. Chobe is one of the many parks associated with Murchison Falls National Park, known the world over for its sightseeing safaris on the wildlife preserve. While we did not splurge for a safari, we did get to see several African animals in their wild habitats on the way to and away from the lodge: giraffe, warthogs, some species of deer, several monkeys, and even a hippo surfacing at lunch. One monkey jumped on my table to pick up some leftovers after Jess left. I don’t know what was funnier — the monkey on my table or the reaction of the other patrons. One lady threw a fit and tried to swat the critter with a cloth napkin, while another, clearly a local, whipped out a slingshot and started taking shots at him.

Chobe is known for its breathtaking view of the Nile, and it did not disappoint. I tried to capture it but the camera just doesn’t do justice to the majesty of this place.

By the time we got back, it was nearing 4:00 pm, and Jess asked to be dropped off at the hospital so she could return to see the doctor. I told the cab driver just to let me off there too, since I had not seen my friends all day. You would think I had deserted these hospital staffers in battle the way they carried on about missing me all day. It felt good to be missed.

I found Janet, who has been at me to play Chess with her, so we went to the library, where she gave me a sound beating at the game... twice. I went back to Team House, defeated, but happy to have shared the experience with my friend. Janet, who usually avoids organized devotions and church services but worships God nearly constantly by herself, promised to be there tomorrow morning to support me while I “preach” the staff devotion.

After dinner with the massive ministry team, I went to Robert and Zam’s for some more authentic family worship time. Just getting together with these folks makes me want to be closer to Jesus and makes me feel like I am. We sang worship songs until much later than their neighbors appreciated, I’m sure, and I walked home in the dark again.

Thursday 10/6

I finished the series Sophie assigned to me on the three attributes of God. This one addressed God as Father and Lord, as indicated by 1 Corinthians 8:5-6:

“For even if there are so-called gods, whether in heaven or on earth (as indeed there are many “gods” and many “lords”), yet for us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live.”

I spoke, not only about who God is as our Lord and Father, but who we are as His subjects and children, and tied in 1 Corinthians 15:58: “Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord.” Afterward, men told me the talk was “very powerful,” and a couple of the women told me it made them cry. I take that as evidence God was speaking to them, not just me.

Work was fairly uneventful, although I did help a woman in labor until her family arrived and took over my role as encouraging hand-holder. The day was peppered with friends lamenting my upcoming departure. Charge Nurse Mirriam tried to forbid me to even speak during my last day, to keep me from making her cry again.

After work, Nurse Patrick called me over to the lawn in front of the nurses’ quarters, where most of my new nursing friends were gathered like a big family, just sitting in the grass, sharing time together. I made myself comfortable in the grass and joined the family, sharing stories and bouncing babies on my knee. I felt connected to this group, not as merely a visitor, but now as a member. Even when little Ethan wet my leg, we all laughed about it as a baptism into the family.

I had to cut my visit short for a dinner appointment with the founders of this mission. They were very hospitable and, after a brief talk, extended an invitation back anytime I am available to return. Apparently they had done some word-of-mouth investigation of me and heard good things. We enjoyed a nice dinner, then they taught me how to beat them at a dominoes game called Mexican Train. I accused them of being such great hosts that they let Jess and me out-score them, but they assured us it was merely the draw of the tiles.

After our dinner and games, I returned to the nurses’ quarters to keep my promise that I would. Mirriam, Nancy, and their children made me welcome again for a brief visit before I left because of the late hour. These nurses live amazing lives with so very little, and yet maintain a most precious attitude of grace, gratitude, and devotion to God. It is impossible not to love them.

Friday 11/6

Today is a sad day, as I tear myself away from a multitude of new friends. I was invited to join the nurses at 5pm behind the Dental Center building for a blessing of my journey.

At 2:00 PM, I left the hospital ward for the last time, and as grievous as it was, I managed to hold my tears in as I crossed through the gate. Just then, a troupe of four toddlers, the children of nurses, came running toward me from the nurses’ residence, yelling my Acholi name, “Mucungwa! Mucungwa!” As I crossed the path to greet them, they met me with hugs and pleas for me to hold them. That’s all it took to make the tears flow as I continued on the path back to Team House.

I have been washing my own hospital scrubs, and I had laundry to wash and dry before packing, but in this dry climate and equatorial sun, line-drying clothes does not take long. While walking along though, I recognized my regular laundry hanging on the lines at Liberty House, where my former housemate and hospitality chairwoman had moved to make room for this latest team. I guessed I might not get to pack until late. Still, I had time to wash what remained, hang it, and shower for the evening’s farewell blessing.

As I approached the hospital nearly 5:00 PM, I was told by several to go and visit Nurse Patrick first. I found him seated in the shade outside the nurses’ residence, and I pulled up a chair beside him. We talked and entertained what seemed like all the nurses’ children, but I love the little ones, so it was a joy. Mirriam’s daughter, Providence, finally warmed up to me after spending six weeks hiding from me as though my white skin might burn her. In fact, I had three toddlers fighting over space in Mucungwa’s lap, so we piled them all there, and laughed until time to join the others.

I expected a circle of friends, gathered by the river to say a quick blessing. I was wrong. They threw me a party like it was somebody special. There was an emcee, a meeting agenda, speeches by each nurse, dancing, presentation of gifts, reading of a love-letter written to me from all the nurses, a ceremonial cutting of the cake they had bought, and more dancing. In fact, I left my wall-flower personality in America and danced with everyone there, even Patrick and the children. It was great! Janet took pictures for me, which later proved to be a beautiful revisitation of the evening’s events.

After we had danced the sun down at the Nile River overlook, we all carried our table and chairs back to the hospital, and said, “farewell” one last time at the gate. Janet, who has become like a daughter to me, walked me to the Cessnun’s house, where my next engagement was awaiting.

Dr. Colby Cessnun and his lovely wife, Maryanne, took me, one more time to Traveller’s Lodge for a restaurant meal and a quiet getaway. They are always precious company, and this was a beautiful time of grateful reflection as we each exchanged feedback about my time here. There is no doubt I will return. As I described my “safe journey” party to them, I declared, “If I had any doubts as to whether my visit here made any difference, those doubts were eliminated in the last two hours.”

After dinner, the Cessnuns took me to their home, where eight of their ten children were waiting to say goodbye and share with me Maryanne’s famous Texas sheet cake. After saying goodbye to several chocolate-stained white faces, I went back to Team House, where my friends, K-Morris and Shalom were waiting to say their farewells. We talked and laughed on the front porch until I’m sure the visiting Americans thought we were crazy, and shared words of love and encouragement as we parted.

At my quarters I found all my laundry, even the scrubs I hung out this afternoon, folded and waiting in my hamper. Judith, Michael, and Robina have certainly spoiled me on this stay! They make an incredible hospitality team, even when occupied serving the giant team of sixteen Texans.

I got mostly packed and found it hard to sleep, so excited about the day’s events. I left a few things line-drying in my room, and once more set up my mosquito net, which I call “camp Mucungwa,” because I feel like I’m in a tent when it is up, and did my best to fall asleep.

Saturday 12/6

I think I hurt Cindy’s feelings. She asked if I was eager to be home, and I missed the opportunity to be a romantic husband and say something like, “I certainly cannot wait to be with you.” Instead, my true emotions came out: “No. I really don’t want to leave here.” I will certainly miss this place and all the dear friendships I built.

As I packed my now dry clothes and unstrung my nylon clothesline from around the room, I began to feel the sorrow of tearing away from this place. I got my luggage ready and was dressed for travel by 7:00, though my ride would not arrive until 8:00. I took the opportunity to go and visit my friend, Zam, who had been admitted to the hospital in the night for concerns about her pregnancy. She was surprised to see me, and we again shared blessings for one another. Her husband, my friend, Robert, sped me back to Team House on his motorcycle. When I got there, Shalom greeted me and walked me to the girls’ dorm to say a final farewell. The bitterness of goodbyes was mixed with the sweetness of fond friendships and my promise of return.

Coming back to Team House, we found the Cessnuns and Jessica, waiting to see me off. As my driver, Jeremiah, approached in his van, I remarked, “Now that’s the saddest thing I’ve seen since I got here.” We gathered for prayer and Colby said one final blessing for the journey and even my safe return.

On the way out of the second town to which we came, there was a soldier named Alex at the checkpoint, who noticed we had lots of room in our van. As soldiers are apt to do in this country, he asked if we might give him a ride to the capitol city of Kampala. It is nearly on the way to Entebbe, so we obliged. As he climbed into the van, he explained that he and his family were stranded by the travel ban and were staying in a village just down the road. We took a path that no one would call a road through some bush which opened into a hidden village. There we took on surprise passengers numbering five, apparently this soldier’s whole family, their household belongings, and even their furniture! After the delay of taking on these extras, I might have been concerned about the time lost, but we gained it back when, at each checkpoint, Lt. Alex displayed his uniform and his credentials got us moving right away. As we dropped him and his family off in Kampala, we exchanged contact information and he offered his contact numbers for use if either of us was ever in trouble. It turns out he is a commander with Legal Services in the UPDF (national army). I don’t plan on ever being in trouble, but it is always nice to make a friend.

Jeremiah took me to Test and Fly, the required Covid testing site, where my nasopharyngeal body cavity was probed for “emergency” (6-hour) testing. The result was promised by 8:00 PM, but it turns out that was in Uganda time, because the results came ten minutes later than I needed them in order to print them at my hotel.

Before the hotel stop, I invited my new friend and driver, Jeremiah, to join me for a late lunch at my favorite Ugandan restaurant, Faze 3, where I always get the same thing — goat pilau. Don’t knock it till you try it!

We went to Airport Guest House, where I rented a day room after confirming that I would be able to print my Covid results and get an airport shuttle at 8:00 PM. There, I said goodbye to Jeremiah and made myself comfortable for a two hour nap.

As I said before, the results which were promised by eight did not arrive by that time. By the time they did, I was late for my shuttle and the clerk who promised me printer access was out for dinner, so I left for the airport without my printed Covid result. (Note to self: never do that again!)

At the airport, the pandemic procedures require many stops and detours from the marked pathways of normal travel, but they are far worse if you do not have the required documentation. By the time I got through the six checkpoints plus two for not coming prepared, I was exhausted. Fortunately for me, Qatar Airlines prides itself of making their passengers comfortable and, as soon as I boarded the plane they did just that.

It breaks my heart to leave Uganda, but the travel process makes leaving even more difficult. To make matters worse, I forgot to make the two stops that are customary when departing: the CEO's house for a final goodbye, and the pharmacy for malaria medicine that apparently cannot be obtained if needed in the US. Oops!

Sunday 13/6

I cannot remember if I mentioned it or not, but Hamad International Airport in Doha, Qatar is absolutely amazing. It is colossal and grand in every way, except for their seating during this pandemic. For Covid distancing, every other seat is blocked off, so I’m on the floor, having given my seat to a lady. If the only thing I can do as a representative of Jesus and America in this land is sacrifice my seat, then a little discomfort is a privilege.

I promised Shalom I would not open her letter for me until I was in the air so, somewhere over the Mediterranean, I read her precious words through tears, as she became the second of the adult students to call me “Dad.” The letter is detailed in its content and outlines four godly characteristics which this precious young woman claims to have witnessed in my fellowship: self-control, initiative, leadership, and discernment. I know I’ve said this before, but if I doubted whether I mattered on this trip, this casts out the doubt.

I arrived safely in Chicago, as well as one can be who only got up once during a 13.5-hour flight. As a nurse I can give the nursing diagnosis of inefficient blood perfusion to the gluteal tissues, with risk of necrosis. In lay terms that is translated: “My butt is dying here!” I felt like that flight definitely needed an intermission, or a calisthenics break or something.

“Let them see You in me, Lord Jesus, not me, because when they see You in me they will see the best of me. …Also, only when they see You can they truly know You.”

-Pastor Gitta Francis

Afterward

I've tried to live each day like I was on a mission for God for at least the last seven years, so I suppose it should not come as a surprise that my trip to Uganda felt a lot like living normal life but in a new place. I tried to demonstrate God's love everywhere I went and to as many as I could, to reflect the grace of Jesus and encourage those I meet with the love of the Holy Spirit. When I got the chance, I preached the Word. I built relationships that I know will last an eternity. I reflected grace as best I, a mere human, could. In the end, I believe God was glorified in my going, and the people with whom I had contact felt a little more connected to a heavenly kingdom not bound by the geography of Africa or America, but limitless and eternal.

I was moved by the concerns of my new friends, and my heart hurts for what hurts them. I did more than just eat their local food. I lived among them for a short while, and I listened to their hearts without condescending as a doctor to a nurse, a rich to a poor, or an American to an African. I ached when I heard my friends relate their belief that Americans think they are poor, dumb, evil people, little more than baboons. I was amused that the children kept rubbing my hands to see if the white would come off, but remembered how alien Mirriam said she had felt when visitors acted like her blackness might do the same. I listened and learned more than I taught or coached and, in so doing, made myself more welcome than a hundred lecturers or preachers.

Before leaving for Uganda, I was asked, "What is your mission?" It seems an easy question, but I fumbled with the answer. I know I was going to find out more, to discover what this particular mission does, has, needs, and where I might eventually fit in. As a missionary, though, I felt like I should be bringing something: some word, ability, or supplies that they had reduced access to. What I found here was an apparent oasis of hope in a land where hope is scarce, one not just seasoned with the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, but permeated with it. Where I thought I might teach nurses some better Western way, I learned how to do much with little and make do without, giving God the glory and allowing Him to be in control regardless. My mission? It was to "go and do likewise," to "go into all the world...making disciples," yes, to preach, but mainly to love, care, and respect in the name of Jesus.

Mission accomplished!

Call to action

If you're still reading this, it means you are either really bored or have invested a part of your life in this adventure. Thanks! May I ask you to do something? Would you please pray for rain and a good harvest in the gardens of my friends? Food security weighs heavily on the minds of even the salaried staff here. They rely on their crops to feed their families, and this wet season has been devastatingly dry.

I am in East Africa for the fifth week of six at a mission in Karuma, Uganda. Here are my journal notes for week four. I cannot post each day because WiFi access is a precious commodity.

Saturday 22/5

What a wonderful day I had today! My friend, Missionary Nancy Cardoza, came from her busy mission in Gulu to transport Jess and me to Gulu. She showed us her new beekeeping facility, a 9-acre lot carved from the bush, and improved with bee apiaries to protect several bee hives, which she uses for honey collection, but mainly for the training of other beekeepers. Nancy and her associates have just built a beautiful, big training hut, good for holding classes, both in beekeeping and quilting. After we left the apiary lot, Nancy took us to her honey shop, where we saw every manner of beekeeping equipment and an assortment of honey varieties. A truckload of raw honey was being loaded for transportation to a bottling facility in the south, and I was amazed to see the sheer quantity of the honey collected by Nancy’s associate bee farmers.

The three of us went to a popular restaurant in Gulu called Elephante. We had a little taste of home, and as we ate our chicken, bacon, ranch pizza, we even got to meet the meat supplier, an expatriated American. Everywhere we went in Gulu, we came across people Nancy knew or who had some connection with the mission at which I am serving. It’s a big country, but it’s a small world!

Sunday 23/5

The worship service this morning was indoors, and the joyful noise was deafening again inside the brick and concrete building. What’s more, much of the worship was in Acholi, so I could only hum along. Visiting Pastor Jeremiah, whom Director Espirito recently met in Gulu, preached today.

He spoke about Matthew 10:41: “Whoever welcomes a prophet as a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever welcomes a righteous person as a righteous person will receive a righteous person’s reward.”

Every pastor speaks, but not all are grounded in the wisdom of the Word. That’s all I have to say about that. What I did hear God say to me through that verse is that hospitality, especially that extended to one sent by God, will not go unrewarded. While I do not identify as a prophet or even a righteous person, I am encouraged to know that those who have made me so welcome will receive a blessing for it.

Dr. Brad & Mrs. Nathalie Burleson arrived with their three children, Addy, Braden, and Jayce, for a one-week dental mission visit. I got to show them around a little and introduce them to Maryanne Cessnun, who took over the welcoming role just as I started to get ready for Janet’s big birthday and farewell dinner party.

We packed ten people around the patio dining table and feasted on roast pork and chips (fries). When the girls could hardly lift their forks, we brought out Janet’s cake. We played a story telling game in which each girl told a story that started with, “When I first met Janet...” Some of them had us laughing quite a lot. Janet was thrilled with her special day, and I was overjoyed to see her surrounded be people who care about her all enjoying themselves.

Monday 24/5

Just before I left for work, my friend, Janet, stopped by the Team House to say goodbye before she left. She handed me a note and I prayed over her and blessed her journey. I was running late and didn’t want to ruin my note during work, so I snapped a picture of it and went on my way, leaving the precious page safely in my quarters.

I was privileged to show the Burelsons around the hospital and to introduce them at the staff devotion. All five of them went straight to work, like a well-rehearsed team. Having been on dental missions in many places, they were well aware of how to deploy the resources with which God had blessed them for this mission trip.

During a break, I escorted Addy and Jayce for tea and to the river overlook. They seemed happy to be there and were as excited as I was to see the river from their Bible school classes.

Sometime in the morning I remembered the note I had got from Janet. I opened the picture file on my phone to read it, and it left me crying. She told me she had often been hopeless, despairing even of life, “but your coming into my life changed my whole story. When (I) am with you I even forget that I am an orphan, because you showed me all the parental love I missed from my parents and brothers.” She said, “Someday I hope I follow your footstep and also change the world around me.”

I said it before and I’ll say it again: if I only came here to meet and love Janet, the trip was worth it! ...But there is even more here to do and love.

Work on the ward was light and I spent the slack time building relationships and practicing my Acholi. Many of the staff are helping me. The ward charge nurse, who I have begun calling “Mama Mirriam” because she cares for the ward and those of us who work there like a watchful mother, has been especially helpful, even threatening to stop using English altogether. She helps me conjugate verbs and corrects my grammar, so I am not merely a glossary of a few repeated words. Nurse Nancy, who is Nurse Patrick‘s wife, was also quite helpful today. If it were up to Patrick, Nancy, and Mirriam, I would never leave this place. If it were solely up to me, I would carry these there with me, along with Patrick and Nancy‘s two small boys, anywhere I go. The three of them are highly skilled nurses and extremely brilliant. They all wish they could come to America, and not only because a Ugandan nurse only makes about forty cents an hour, but because each of them wants to learn what it is like to be a nurse with nearly limitless resources.

There was a football game at the pitch, and I met the Burelsons there. Braden was playing with the big boys and holding his own. The boys, some of whom had six years on him, said, “We were impressed!” What they didn’t say, but I know from talking with them was that they were surprised an American could play football so well. We Americans have a reputation for being awful at soccer.

Jess came over and we both had dinner with the Burlesons. There was so much left over, it took both Jayce and me to deliver it to the boy’s dorm. They were only too happy to have a share.

Robert, the information technologies specialist, came to visit and brought with him a WiFi router and a dinner invitation. I will join him and his wife, Robina, at their home on Tuesday, and they will join us all at Team House on Wednesday.

Shalom visited and attempted to get some connections on her phone, so she could arrange to visit her family in nearby Lira. Since Team House has WiFi and power, she was compelled to visit “Uncle Todd.”

It was a long day, and I went to bed exhausted.

Tuesday 25/5

Sister Sophie brought the Word at staff devotions this morning at the hospital and moved most of us to tears. Her voice cracked with emotion as she thanked God for forgiveness, and it inspired me to look at grace more gratefully in that moment. What a great way to start a work shift!

At morning rounds, there were only three patients in the General Ward and two of them had discharge orders. The Maternity Ward was down to a new mother and baby born the night before. It was a slow day. Just about the time I was ready to dismiss myself early, in came two new patients, one a severe roadway traffic accident trauma, and the other a baby with malaria and infection associated anemia.

I got a vague text from my young friend, Janet, indicating she was in some kind of trouble. When I briefly spoke with her, I became even more alarmed as she said she could not talk with her hosts around. I prayed and turned my helplessness over to God, yet still spent the day concerned.

While I fetched blood from the lab’s blood supply, I inquired about donating. I was invited on the next blood run to Gulu so that I may donate while we are at the blood bank. American blood banks will not take my blood for twelve months after visiting Africa, but Africa will.

I had dinner with Information Technologies Expert Robert, his precious wife, Zam, their baby boy, Praise, and their helper, Promise. For the night, I was welcomed, not only into their home, but into their family. We ate a wonderful dinner of mashed matoke (plantains) and boiled sweet potatoes with g-nut sauce. Delicious! We sat around the family room, playing with the baby who, until tonight has screamed every time I came around, but tonight tolerated me and even gave “Uncle” a hug and kiss. After we shared stories a while, Robert played the guitar while we sang worship songs, prayed, and said goodnight. It was a wonderful night with new friends!

Before I retired for the night I received a call from Janet indicating she would be coming home tomorrow.

Wednesday 26/5

There was a staff meeting, but since we are hosting a visiting preacher, he was allowed to speak... as long as he wanted. When he finally finished, we had our staff meeting, which also went long. During the meeting, Dr. Robert recognized me and announced that I would now be know by my recently acquired Acholi name, Mucungwa (pronounced Moo-choong’-wa), which means citrus fruit. The Acholi have one African name and one English “Christian” name, like Otim Robert or Awor Mirriam. Yesterday I announced I was taking an Acholi name, and I guess word got around.

Janet update: she is safe with friends, but was somehow prevented from coming home.

I was amazed at lunchtime when, again, the nurses marveled that I spend time sharing with them and eating their local food with them. They remarked that no visitor had ever done that before. When I wondered out loud why not, Mirriam joked, “They think we are baboons or that our blackness will rub off on them.” I hope and pray they have never been made to feel that way, but I could tell there was disappointment behind her laughter. These nurses are every bit as caring and professional as any with whom I have worked, a few of them as smart as any nurse I know. I count it a privilege to share with and learn from them. Coincidentally, I have heard it is precisely because I did not condescend to them that I enjoy such a close relationship with many of my coworkers.

Work was light, but there were motorcycle trauma cases and more malaria. I’m getting better with pediatric patients. The two kids ages four and six seem to like me even though I have to stick them with needles in the mornings. I get fist bumps and smiles when everyone else just gets the business look.

I left work early to report my concerns about Janet, who was still not back, to the Child Care Office and then to the Managing Director. He got some answers right away, and I was glad I brought the matter to him. It turns out she is not far away, and will, God willing, return tomorrow.

Robert, Zam, Praise, and Promise arrived for a shared dinner with the Burlesons. We had a great time sharing the feast Judith had prepared: cassava chips (fried yuca), stir-fried beef strips, bo (a local green), Irish potato chips (fries), and banana (the sweet, yellow ones you know). It was nice to introduce the two families, and nice to have God-honoring fellowship.

Thursday 27/5

I gave the devotion at the morning meeting, and taught on the attribute of God—triune, as indicated in Titus 3:4-6. Since last week I basically taught on the trinity providing for God’s ability to be immanent (present with us) in Spirit, I took the opportunity to add to my devotion a redirect from the speech of yesterday’s visitor. I believe God was honored, the truth was spoken, and those congregated were edified.

I had a talk with Pastor Gitta about a concern I have with a visiting preacher among the flock while he was away. He is a good shepherd of this flock, and was grateful to hear that I was being watchful in his absence. We both were proud when I reported that several of the older girls had also discerned the visitor was speaking untruth.

I didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night, and it began to show in my clinical work with stupid mistakes, so I excused myself to take a nap. I woke up at 7 PM to the sound of the Burlesons leaving Team House. As they left for dinner elsewhere I found myself alone for supper. As if on cue, my friend, Jessica the librarian, stopped by for a visit. She had dinner plans elsewhere too, but it was nice to have a visitor. It turns out she is having some construction work done on her house, so she will stay in the opposite dorm at Team House next week. While the Burlesons wrap up their visit here, this was excellent news.

Judith and James arrived while Jess was visiting, and Judith informed me that one of our patients had died after I left. It seems the way of things here. Yesterday, I was informed at morning rounds that a 17-month old who came in for an abscess and a fever had died suddenly in the night. I cannot explain how it feels losing someone I barely know, but in whom I have invested my care. The loss claims a piece of the caregiver as it whisks away the soul of the departed.

Tomorrow is “General Scrubbing Day,” the last Friday of the month, when all the nurses come in for a top to bottom cleaning of the Ward. I am throwing a surprise lunch for them, with beef and chips, a special treat for these nurses, who live on a salary that equates to forty cents an hour.

Friday 28/5

Today, the devotional speaker misunderstood the schedule for his turn and, so, was not prepared. Instead, Sister Sophie, the PNO (primary nursing officer) gave the talk, and she based it on mine from yesterday, confirming all I had said. Afterward, Mirriam commented, “It must be nice to know we were listening to you.” It actually was very affirming.

Today was General Scrubbing Day, so everything got cleaned. The nurse who didn’t show was assigned to dusting cobwebs and sweeping the veranda, so I took that job, which fiercely aggravated my sinus allergies. I was sneezing and snotting the rest of the day. That is not the kind of living sacrifice I intended for the day.

Everyone did such a great job, it was a joy to treat the nurses from my Ward to lunch. Most brought their kids when they heard there would be meat and chips (beef and fries). We had a great time, and I, Mucungwa, was made honorary grandpa of the kids who came.

Even with my sniffles, I took a walk with Jess around the property. She is competing with someone in the States for activity points, but I left my smart watch home for fear of the lack of charging ability. Silly me! Power isn’t a problem here.

Everyone has been invited out for dinner so I’m home alone in the Team House. I’m hoping to hear news tonight that Janet is safely home, but so far I have not. I’m finally resting in front of the fan in a quiet house.

My dinner was delivered and it was far too much for me to eat, so I prayed that God would send me a guest. I recorded a little video message for my family and, in it, I said, “I just prayed for a guest to join me, so before they get here I thought I would say hello.” Just after I put my phone down, there came a knock at the door. Janet is home safely, and she came to let me know! Not only that, but after Janet fixed herself a plate, Shalom arrived, just in from her home village. We had a nice time catching up, but I am exceedingly relieved to have both girls on the safe side of the compound gate. I asked God for a guest and He sent the two I had been praying for most right to my doorstep! Hallelujah!

Afterward:

The Lord is blessing me through the people or this mission, and each one I meet tells me that I am a blessing to them. I trust God will continue to make this so. I have heard some of the nurses say that the way they care for patients changed because of the way they observe me with them. Some of the youth here have said my love for them inspires them. I do not feel practically beneficial in this setting where so much has already been done, but I trust that, like the Little Drummer Boy, as long as I come before my King and play my little part, He will be glorified.

God bless you, the reader of this journal. May you be brought to a deeper understanding of the breadth of God's glorious kingdom, and may you be inspired to live wherever you are in the mission of going and doing like Jesus has done, loving our neighbors, attending to the sick and imprisoned, washing the feet of our companions, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and making disciples of all nations, in all the authority of Heaven and Earth, which He commissioned us to do.

In Christ's love,

Mucungwa Todd

I am in Uganda, at a mission which 220 orphaned children call home, and host to a fairly new hospital where I have been working. As you will note, I am still seeking God's will for my future, and am developing relationships that will always matter to me in one way or another. These are my journal notes for the past week. My apologies for the delay in posting. I had technical difficulties. The WiFi here is fairly unpredictable.

Saturday 15/5

Today I walked with a bunch of girls a little over 3 miles (5 kilometers) to the nearby town of Karuma. To call it a town is actually a stretch, but there is a congregation of people gathered for commerce and there is an intersection of two roads, so we call it a town, though it is more like a "village." There are wall-to-wall shops and open-air market vendors, butcher kiosks, and street peddlers. We toured around a little, bought a few things, and, when it was time to head home, found our friend, Robert, who had come in a van to take us back to the campus. Just going along helped me develop relationships with these few ladies, but practicing my Acholi along the way built me some street credit with those we passed.

It was “visitation day," a day when a very few are visited by whatever family member(s) care(s) enough to make the trip, and everybody else just feels left out for a while. I heard the girls talking about how, growing up, they always hated visitation day and cried for weeks, while the favored children ate their special treats and wore their new clothes. Sitting on the floor of the back of the van with several  of these girls, I announced I was there to visit all of them. Their smiles and laughter were priceless.

When we got back, we were all horribly hot. I returned to Team House and started journaling. Janet, who has been on the Karuma trip, came over and chatted with me at the dining table for a while. She poured out a story about her family that made both of us cry. Without going into much detail, I will say that her story made me think my law enforcement background, nursing foreground, and ministerial heart might be the perfect formula to start a battered women’s shelter. It is a very real need, though it would not be popular with the traditionalists in the area who think women are the property of men, regardless of how they are treated.

After Janet left and I got last weeks’ blog posted, I attended a birthday party for Jessica “Cool Mom” Washburn. She shared her party with everyone else born in May because she is, after all, “Cool Mom.” We watched football (soccer), danced, laughed, and ate chicken, chips (fries), cake, and soda, all of which are real treats. I can’t remember having this much fun at a birthday party. Happy birthday, Jess!

Sunday 16/5

Pastor Gitta was on fire preaching this morning. So much so, that two congregants approached him while he preached to add an additional offering. It was kind of a joke, but we all knew he was preaching truth. He was talking about how so many professors of Christ want to claim the blessings of His companionship but fail to accept the discipline of obedience that goes with it, accepting Christ as Savior, but not as Lord. I am happy to hear the mission congregants are receiving this word, since it often gets left out, even in America. Christ’s lordship is how discipline toward sanctification begins.

After a brief nap, I went to the house of my two sponsored children. I had been trying to make plans to take lunch with them since I arrived, but the timing never worked out. Vivian is a busy teenager and school starts tomorrow. Daniel is eleven, so he hasn’t a care in the world. Still, his school starts tomorrow too, so I took the opportunity to share a meal with the house. All the other kids were painfully quiet, shyly giggling and turning away when I spoke to them. Auntie Lydia, the house mom, made a feast of chicken, rice, black beans, and greens. It was delicious! Ugandans have a custom that a young person kneels when introduced to an elder. It is a demonstration of respect, but it does make one uncomfortable who is not used to it. I have remedied this by taking the hand of the youth, lifting them up, and hugging them. This I did a few times at Auntie Lydia’s house. 

I was invited as guest of honor for the closing ceremony of the kids' football tournament. As such, I said a few inspirational words, then presented each of the awards of excellence. I was especially proud that my sponsored child, Daniel, received recognition as “the most disciplined player.” This event closes a football season and marks the end of the kids’ school break, so just about everyone was there. They each received a drink, the younger a fruit juice cup and the older a soda, and they all had a great time. 

During the final match, I was approached by my friend Maryanne, the wife of Dr. Colby Cessnun, who invited me to dinner at the restaurant at the nearby village of Karuma. She even extended an invitation to join her family of eleven for their in-home, Sunday night church service, which I was privileged to attend. 

Dinner out with other missionaries, fellow Americans from Texas, was enjoyable and informative. We shared ideas and concerns well into the night, and the hotel and restaurant staff were very accommodating. 

Monday 17/5

Jess says it takes some time for the stomach to adjust to African food, but each time she visits, the adjustment period gets shorter. So far, my system still has not settled down, and today, I felt it more than usual. I had a light breakfast and skipped lunch to come home and nap. 

Before my nap, though, I re-heated the dinner that was prepared for me and took it to my nursing colleagues, Patrick and Patrishia, at the hospital. They were thrilled to get such a treat and I was happy food wasn’t spoiling in the non-working fridge.

After my nap, Jess came over for dinner and Janet walked in as we were finishing up. Janet had bead crafts to sell and I took her entire stock to bring home and sell for her. She was thrilled, and is now funded for a trip to her summer job, where she can hopefully make some of the school-supply money she will need when she starts nursing school.

In a quiet moment after all was settled, Janet asked me, “Why do you love me so much?” I don’t know if this young lady has felt loved much before except by a few here at the mission, so it was a real touching victory to hear that she knew she was loved without my saying so. 

Tuesday 18/5

My stomach feels much better after the rest I got yesterday, but I’m still not at a hundred percent.

I worked with Mirriam and Samuel in the morning. We received an elderly patient transfer from another clinic, who was not responding to malaria treatment and who had developed shortness of breath. After being on our ward only about two hours, she went into respiratory arrest and then cardiac failure. Dr. Cessnun and I performed CPR for about twelve minutes, but with no return of spontaneous circulation. She died at 10:30 AM. 

It was a very busy morning with new arrivals, the death, and treatments that demanded the attention of all three of us. Janet had to work her regular job but somehow managed to arrive earlier than usual on such days, claiming that, because she has only a few days left before she leaves for the summer, she wanted to spend as much time with me as possible.

There was a big staff meeting at 3 PM that all were asked to attend, on duty or not. Given some of the announcements and rumors floating around, many had feared bad news, but there was none. It turned out to be a 2-hour in-service training on blood transfusions. 

While I waited for it, though, I was asked to present the staff devotion on Thursdays as long as I am here. I love bringing the Word, so I jumped at it. I did not want to appear reluctant like I did on my first day.

Jess brought friends, Janet and Sharon to dinner. Finally! No leftovers!

Sharon proved to be quite the bat hunter and disposed of one of the flying critters from out of my dining area. Before you go thinking long, black, leathery vampire, let me redirect your thoughts to a furry, white mouse with wings.

Wednesday 19/5

The day started with strange news at the mission hospital. The clinical directorship was reassigned from Dr. Colby Cessnun to Dr. Otim Robert. There was a lot of shock and disbelief throughout the ranks as Dr. Robert asked for everyone’s support, though he, himself, was recruited in 2000 to this hospital by Dr. Cessnun, who is credited as pioneering the clinic here. It would have been easy to feel numb after such an administrative decision, but Dr. Colby took it in stride, and continued on clinical rounds with a smile and his usual clinical competence.  I was riding the wave of Colby’s disappointment, but his countenance is so high, it is easy to set aside the ill feelings and get on with whatever is necessary. His attitude is amazing!

Thursday 20/5

I led the staff devotion this morning, and didn’t get much sleep, thinking about what I would say. My assigned topic was the immanence of God as articulated in Isaiah 57:15. The British spelling of that word made me wonder if I was to speak of God’s eminence or His immanence, so I talked about both, and how His compassion drove Him to leave the high and royal Heavenly throne to reestablish unity with His fallen creation. I prayed for God’s Spirit to teach me what to say, then wrote a bunch of notes on my phone. During the talk, half my notes were missing from my phone, forcing me to rely only of what God called to my mind. Afterward, the missing notes mysteriously reappeared on my phone. Wild! 

Mirriam, my friend who is honest with me enough to tell me if I use “lazy speech” (American slang with undisciplined annunciation), said I used none and was absolutely clear. Sister Sophie, the Primary Nursing Officer (PNO), closed the meeting by saying, “I couldn’t possibly add anything to that.” I took that as a high compliment.

The day was long and slow on the General Ward, and even more so in Maternity, where they only had two patients. I did what I could, and tried to stay near the fan, because it seemed very hot today, though the Weather App only said 87 degrees. I think it has more to do with how much sun is shining. Overcast days are infinitely cooler, but this “wet season” has been remarkably sunny.

About 3 PM I was in the Lab, and Isaac, the lab tech, told me he was just about to search me out, and declared, “We have a serious problem.” While I thought perhaps I had made a clinical mistake with the lab samples, Isaac showed me his football (soccer) roster and explained the Hospital Staff Men’s team was a man short, and he needed me to fill the spot for “back-up goalkeeper.” I guessed this must be an honorary position since they were asking me, a fat, old Mzungu (white person), to fill it, so I let him put me on the roster of the roster for the Hospital Staff vs. Teaching Staff game this afternoon.

As word spread of my inclusion on the roster, I recognized this was no small thing. Many who addressed me acted as if I would actually play. I got nervous! I went back to my quarters, changed into the only shorts I brought, and applied enough sunscreen to make it through whatever happened. Hallelujah, our first string goalkeeper stayed healthy the whole game, and we won 2:1, with me safely in the sidelines!

At dinner, Jess reconfirmed, “For them to ask you this shows again how accepted you are. They wouldn’t do that for just anyone!” They do take their football seriously around here, and both teams were seriously skilled. It was an honor to be their mascot for the day.

Friday 21/5

Yesterday, a 27-year-old woman arrived with nothing more than a productive cough. This morning, she was attached to every monitor on the ward to piece together enough working components to suffice. When I asked why, I was told her condition worsened overnight, but that was all. I figured I would hear more about it at rounds. While we started rounding at the other end of the ward, we only got through about three patients when the family members of this one woman began to wail, and my friend, Nurse Patrishia began to collect the monitoring devices from off the newly deceased patient. I responded to help with another “last office” (preparation of the deceased). That’s five in my three weeks here. But since this ward serves as ER, Medical-surgical, progressive, and ICU all in one, I guess that’s pretty good.

Later in the day, the nurses told me I was the first visiting missionary to spend time with them or take lunch with them, and that none had ever tried to learn the language. I was shocked but also wondered what else one would do. I feel like the language barrier is keeping me from expressing the love I came to share. Before the day was through, the new clinical director, Dr. Robert, announced to the ward, in jest, that he was canceling my return trip to the U.S. so I could stay here and keep helping. It was a funny joke, but served to affirm that my presence here is appreciated. The others present, Nurses Mirriam and Patrishia, Dr. Judith, and Clinical Officer Jennifer, all echoed this wish that I would stay. That was a good feeling, but I can’t let an ego boost confuse my search for God’s will for me. 

At 5:00, Janet and I walked back to the Team House where she made us toast while we listened to worship music. She is leaving Monday, so she said she is spending as much time with me as she can. 

After dinner with Jess and Janet, I got a visit from Shalom, another of the adult students. She is smart and talented, but has some decisions to make, and is scared to make them. We prayed together and talked about how God has given me directions at times. She knew about Gideon’s fleece (Judges 6), so I told her to pray specifically, and the right doors would open like a wet fleece on the ground.

Imagine every high school Junior or Senior you’ve ever known, or think back to when you were trying to make the decisions that would shape your life. Now complicate that predicament with shattered families, no parents, poverty on a scale you can’t even imagine, and a culture that still believes a woman’s place is in the home, and you might begin to get a glimpse of what goes on in the minds of these young women. Worse yet, polygamy is common and so is domestic violence. Even if a girl hasn’t experienced these things yet, it weighs on her mind as a possibility for her future, because of what many witness in their dysfunctional exposure to what limited family they do have.

I may not be evangelizing on the street corners or winning souls in the hospital ward (yet), but my dinner table has born witness to some tearful exchanges. “Uncle Todd” is gaining the favor of the men and women I serve here, even if I don’t know what is next. Today marks the half-way point in my visit. I have been here three of six weeks. On one hand the time has flown by, and on the other I feel like I have loved these people a lifetime already. How will I ever pull myself away in just three more weeks?