Alex was three years old when he died, and though his life was painfully short, through it God has taught us all so much.  Alex was born with AIDS, and shortly thereafter lost both of his parents to it.  So for his entire life, he was sick.  He was so ill, so undernourished, that he was expected to die any time.
Then God brought Noah into the picture.  Noah is one of my best friends, and his love for Alex breaks my heart in the best way.  Noah chose to sponsor Alex to pay for food and medicine for him, not knowing that by doing that, he was saving Alex’s life.  He chose Alex simply because they shared a birthday…but God had a bigger plan.
In January, we headed back to Uganda, and I had the privilege of watching Noah meet his sponsor child for the first time.  Alex’s caretaker fell to her knees thanking Noah, saying that if it weren’t for his contribution, Alex would have died long before.  Noah was astonished by this outpouring of thanks; he hadn’t realised the difference that he had made in the lives of Alex and those around him.  It was truly fantastic.
And even more beautiful was the way Noah poured his heart out to Alex.  The way the two of them bonded warms my heart to this day.
So, as you can imagine, we were afraid when we received the news that Alex had fallen ill, and we were utterly heartbroken when he died.
I loved that boy.  I didn’t even know Alex all that well, but I loved him with all my heart.  The love that I have for all of my children in Uganda…I don’t know where it comes from.  Actually, now that I write that, I do.  It comes from God.  A love as strong as the love I feel for Uganda couldn’t possibly come from anywhere else.
Alex knew he was loved.  The last few months of his short life were his best.  He was loved by his caretaker, he was loved by us (Noah especially) when we came to visit, and most of all he knew he was loved by God.

But that doesn’t make it easier to know that he is gone.
It breaks my heart so, when my children are sick, dying.  But really, I was thinking about it, and we’ve been partnering with Ray of Hope orphanage for over a year now, and Alex is the first child we’ve lost in that time.  So when I think about it that way, it’s amazing.  I mean, this is Uganda.  Children die.  It’s what happens.  AIDS, malaria, cholera, starvation, the list goes on.  So the fact that it’s been a whole year is pretty astonishing, and it’s reason to thank God.  Thinking of it in that way makes it hurt just a little bit less.

Sunday was the first day that Alex knew what it feels like to not be sick.  It was the first day he was entirely well, lacking nothing, complete and happy.  And though it’s painful to lose him, it really is better this way.  Dying this way was much faster and less painful than dying of AIDS would have been.  It’s better.  Not easier, but better.

Oh, but it still hurts.  My heart still aches persistently.  My eyes still tear up when the memory of Alex crosses my mind.  But though it isn’t pleasant, his death has brought about good things as well.

For one thing, Alex’s death has clarified my calling in life.  I have never been so sure that I want, even need, to use my life to save others.  Alex’s death has made me all the more eager for the day when I can prevent things like that from happening.  If I can make one less little boy die of cholera, that will make this worth it.  If I can heal one little girl from malaria, if I can sew up one wound, feed one starving child, save one life.  That is what I’m all about.
Mother Teresa said it well: “We can do no great things…only small things with great love.”  A friend of mine reminds me of that quote every time I begin to feel hopeless and overwhelmed by all of the sickness in the world.  And over the last couple of days, it’s become real.  I think I’m finally learning to understand what it means.
We were not able to save Alex’s life.  But we were able to pour love out onto him.  I won’t be able to eradicate all sickness from the face of the earth.  But that’s not the goal.  The goal is to do everything I do with great love.  And if I do them with great love, the small things become great things in their time.  That’s what I am about.  That’s why I’m here.
I am a small thing.  Just one small person in a world of big pain, big problems, big despair.  But love, love is so much bigger.

You know, it’s truly amazing how much my Uganda children have taught me about life, love, Jesus, poverty, happiness, and so much more.  These small children, three, five, ten years old, teaching me these profound life lessons.  They haven’t the faintest idea how much of an impact they have had on me.  Alex is just one of the many precious tiny lives that have changed me.
I thank God for Alex’s life.  I thank God for Noah’s willingness to step up and serve Alex for these months, because the impact that Alex has had on all of us will far outlast the short time he spent here on earth.

I’ll tell you what, Derrick can put away some food.  Tonight at dinner he ate all of his and half of mine too!  I guess he’s a growing boy.  I still don’t know whether he is 14 or 15.  He always gives a different answer depending on who asks.  He doesn’t even know what day his birthday is, which is pretty funny.  Sometime in September.
Anyway, today was a very good day.  For the first time ever on this whole trip, I had no tasks.  There was nothing planned for me to do.  So for a while I watched the builders as they lay bricks for the new schoolhouse, but mostly I just loved on my kids and chatted with people and simply hung out.  At times it was frustrating, not having anything to do, but mostly it was very good.  I was started to get a little burned-out from working so much, so it was nice to just focus on playing and laughing and hugging.

Well, it is so good to be back in Kampala.  I absolutely loved travelling about, and I adore Busia, but Kampala is where my heart is.  I just love it here.
I cannot believe we are going home in three days.  I’m tearing up as I write this because this is it.  In three days I will leave Africa and not come back for a very long time.  How does the time pass so quickly?  This week has gone by like molasses, and yet I still find myself wondering how it is already nearly gone.
This just feels so final.  It feels like this is the end.  I know I will see them again someday, but that someday will be very very far away.
I am so in love with this place.  This is the life I want.
This morning Derrick and I decided to try balancing a water bottle on different parts of our bodies, and I was amazed by how we kept entertained for ages with something as simple as a water bottle.  And how they tie together a bunch of plastic shopping bags and call it a football.  I just love the simplicity here.  I always say how I want to bring my babies back to America with me…but I don’t.  It would spoil them.  Take away that beautiful simplicity and contentment that I so love.  I couldn’t bear to bring them into my country of excess.
So that’s why I come to them instead!

10:00 pm
Finally back in Kampala.  I am almost too tired to write, because it has been a ridiculously long and busy day.  We got up and went to Paul’s orphanage, then drove to another church way out in the bush, then to another church even more out in the bush, then drove another 4 hours to get back here.  So we’re tired out.
Paul’s was fantastic.  It was so good to go to a familiar place and see familiar faces and get a big soft enveloping hug from Mama Janet.  While I was very sad I didn’t get to see Misanyah Grace, I did get to see Moses and Ibra and Stella and my other loves.  We kicked around a dusty football, and tried to see how many different body parts we could hit it with.  We got feet, knees, hands, elbows, shoulders, head, chin, and hips.  It was pretty funny seeing them try to imitate me..
Then one of them kicked it under the crude wooden table, and I ran to get it, and when I stood up I bashed my face on the table corner.  My vision got all fuzzy and I was dizzy and it hurt so bad.  It bled a little and hurt a lot, but everything is fine.  The kids thought it was hilarious, though–I guess pain is funny in any language.
I cried when I left them.  Who knows when I might see those kids again?  I love them so.
But although I love Busia so very dearly, I must say it is lovely to be back here in Kampala again.  Maybe tomorrow will be the day I give Derrick the guitar!

Warning: this post is insanely long.  Enjoy!

On 21 March 2011, I went outside and I ran for the first time.  This is what I wrote in my running log:

A 6 a.m. thunderstorm messed with my morning routine…but I still ran. It was a rainy run, but I enjoyed it. However, I curse those hills with the white-hot passion of a thousand suns. One day I’ll appreciate the hills, but today is not that day.

I started out with the popular Couch to 5K program, but after four or five weeks of the 9-week program I decided that I just didn’t like it and would rather go at my own pace.  It was slow going…really slow.  Four weeks into my running career and I had just gotten to the point where I could run five minutes without having a walk break:

C25K w4d2: I ran for 5 minutes without stopping! Doesn’t sound like much (which it isn’t) but it’s been my struggle this week…I just had to remind myself that if I didn’t finish the 5 minutes, I wouldn’t forgive myself. So I did it!
I bet the non-runners who pass me think that running is something horrible. I mean, my face must make it look like torture! I’m all sweaty and red (stupid Irish skin) and have this fierce look of tired concentration…it must not look like fun at all.
But it is, my non-runner friends. It is.

And that was the last day of Couch to 5K before I decided to quit that and do my own thing.  At that point in my running, it still felt like a chore.  Something I had to do for my morning routine, something that I would beat myself up if I skipped, something that I did for no other reason than because I knew it was good for me.  But soon I began to really really enjoy it:

Didn’t fit in a run today as I’d hoped. Won’t be able to do one tomorrow either. I’m upset.
It’s funny, there was once a time when I’d be super glad for my busy schedule to give me an excuse not to run–now when I don’t have time for a run I actually feel sad! This is progress, people!

And shortly after that, I got my brother Jake to run with me!  Of course, he’s very athletic and on his first run he was already a better runner than I was…but we have fun together.

Ran with Jake today. It was basically awesome. Weather was pretty miserable though…so humid; we got out of breath so fast. But the sunset was pretty.
Jake (jokingly): “I’m tired. I think I’ll skip my shower. What’s a little sweat?”
Me: “Yeah, me too. Then when I wake up, I’ll harvest the salt crystals and put them on my hard-boiled egg.”

It was around that time that some of our best friends took up running as well, which is cool.  We do all sorts of races and stuff together…I love it.
The next highlight of my running was when Jake got me my first pair of Vibram FiveFingers as an early birthday present, in May.  I was running in them the first day I got them and never ever went back to conventional running shoes (and probably never will).

Couldn't have made it this far without these guys. 125 of my 200 miles to date are on these shoes.

Shortly after that I began training for my first race, a four-miler in the end of August.  Early August was the first time I ever ran more than 2 miles in one go:

Three miles–my longest run yet! I ran the first mile, and then alternated running and walking for the other two.
I love the way I feel when I sit down after a hard run–my muscles feel loose and tired and my lungs feel so open. It feels so good to just breathe slow and deep (once I actually catch my breath from the running part!)

It was also right around that time that I hit my first major milestone: 100 miles.  And then came my first race.

My first race ever!
This morning’s Fun Run certainly lived up to its name. Couldn’t have asked for better weather–overcast, 70 degrees, slight misty rain for part of the time. It was super windy too, which I loved except for the half when I was trying to run against it.
I’m not terribly pleased with how it went, time-wise. But now I know what to shoot for at next week’s race–55 minutes. I don’t care if it kills me, but I’m going to go at least one minute faster next time. Today’s goal was just to finish, which I did easily, so my next goal is to improve.

A week after my first race, I ran my second.  This was was four miles again, but it felt a lot bigger because there were >4,000 runners as opposed to the <200 I’d run with the week before.  But it was lots of fun.

Great race, had lots of fun (: The 4-miler I ran last week took me 56 minutes, so this week I made it my goal to do at least one minute better than last week…which I did 4 minutes, actually.
Sometime during mile 2 my ankle started to ache, and it was pretty bad…I found myself wondering if I should keep on running or take it easy and walk the rest of the way. I decided I’d keep pushing, and while my ankle gave me trouble for the whole rest of the race, the pain went away as soon as I crossed the finish line and slowed down. So I don’t know what that’s about.
Anyway, this morning was great

Then a month later came Warrior Dash Virginia–the most fun I’ve ever had at a race.  And we’ve got plans to do another in May, so I’m excited about that.

The Warrior Dash was the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. Okay, not really…but it was definitely up there.

Then in November came the double digits.  I distinctly remember when I first began running, thinking to myself, “I wonder if I’ll ever be one of those people who runs like five miles, or maybe even ten!”  Like it was some huge distant thing that I could never do.  Well, I did it:

Perceived effort on a scale of 1 to 5: a million.
My first double digit run, and I gave it everything I had. It was terrible. I’m in pain. But it feels so good! I love this.
However, I think I’ll just plateau at the 10-mile distance for a while until I can complete it without waddling or collapsing.

The day after my ten mile run, one of my best friends, Noah, mentioned to me that he was doing a half marathon in December…and I couldn’t sit there and let him do it by himself, so I told him I’d sign up too.  Impulsive?  Absolutely.  Signing up for a half marathon that’s three weeks away?  I must be crazy to do something like that.  But we got Jake to sign up too, and we made it happen.  I was so proud of Noah, of Jake, and of myself.  I never ever in a bajillion years would have thought I would run 13.1 miles (even if it did take me three hours…minor detail).

I’ve never enjoyed a race like I enjoyed this one. Jake and I stuck together for most of it and just goofed off and had a good time. I mean, it’s not like I actually had any chance of winning anything…so why take myself so seriously? We just had fun. Noah, on the other hand, smashed it. 1 hour 49 minutes. He’s ridiculous like that.
My muscles aren’t nearly as sore as I’d thought they’d be…tomorrow might be a different story though.

After the half, I took a nice long break from running.  For a couple of days I was too sore to even walk, and then for like two weeks after that I was too sore to run.  Then I went to Africa, started back to school, and now here I am.  I’m back into running regularly.  Four days ago I ran my first ten-miler since the half marathon, and while it still nearly killed me, I found it easier than last time.

It simply blows my mind that in less than a year, I went from killing myself to run for two minutes straight, to completing a half marathon.  I can now confidently call myself a runner.  I’m finding that running isn’t so hard anymore.  I’m watching my body change, my jeans get looser, and my calf muscles get tighter.  And most of all, I’m learning to enjoy it.

11:00 am
This is how you do church.  This is a shelter the size of my living room, with only half a roof, and 20 members, out here in the middle of nowhere where there is no electricity and the sheep wander just outside the church building, if you could call it that.  The breeze blows through and the sun shines in, and here come the children to sing for Jesus.  This is how it’s done.
I never want to forget the sound of their little feet shuffling about in the dirt as they dance.  That sound is so beautiful, so small, so sweet.
I love this.

1 pm
Today I scared a baby.  She’d never seen a white person before.  So I crouched down a couple of metres away from her and waved, and she immediately began to scream.  She took off and sprinted down the path, screaming and flailing her arms, and kept running till she was out of sight, and even then I could hear her screaming.  Her mother just sat there laughing.  It really was hilarious.

8:30 pm
I absolutely hate when my children are sick.  I hate it.  It simply breaks my heart.  There was a little girl with the most terrible cough, and with every painful, wet hack her body shook and she would cry quietly to herself.  I just wanted to take her in my arms and make it all better.  And a little boy with the worst case of worms I’ve seen in a long time, maybe even ever.  His little belly stuck out so far.  I hate being so helpless.  I want to see my children feeling healthy.  It truly tears me apart, all of the sick people I see here.  I long for the day when I am equipped to treat them and make them well.

 Anyway, today at the glasses clinic there was a woman called Nafuta Maria who must have been nearly a million years old and completely blind.  I knew from the start that I couldn’t help her, but I tested her anyway, and sure enough her eyes were so bad that even our best glasses wouldn’t fix them.  So I told her, “I can’t give you glasses.  But I can pray for you.”  She agreed, so I prayed for healing in her eyes, and when we opened out eyes after praying she could see partially out of one eye!  I was thrilled.  So I told her that I’d keep praying for her even when I come home.  Maybe one day God will give her the rest of her sight too…who knows?
Not I go to bed.  Tomorrow we are going to Pastor Paul’s orphanage to visit and I can’t wait to see how my babies have grown since I last saw them!
Oh, one more thing.  Today we painted nails for the women and girls like we did last year, and once again I was blown away by how such a simple gesture can mean so much.  I just love to sit down and take their brown hands in my white ones and colour their nails bright and girly and just love on them.
Tomorrow we go back to Kampala, which I am hugely looking forward to.  I miss Ray of Hope and my people there.  Maybe I will give Derrick the guitar on Tuesday.
Today I thought about leaving Uganda, and I cried.  We only have five more days here, and I can’t bear to think of it.  I just can’t.
Well, goodnight.

9:00 pm
With every precious moment I spend here in Uganda, I become more and more certain that this is the life I want.  I can’t imagine anything more glorious than being here every single day of my life.
Today we did eye glasses in two churches.  You know, sometimes doing the eye clinics makes me simply want to gouge my eyeballs out.  It gets so frustrating at times.  So many of the patients want glasses just for the sake of having them, and when I tell them the good news that they don’t need glasses, they insist that they do.  So perfectly good glasses are wasted on people who don’t need them.  Today was especially bad.
But it was all worth it because we were able to help a woman who has needed glasses for seven years and has never been able to afford them.  So we gave her a pair, and she fell to her knees praising God.  This is why we are here.  This is the whole point.
Oh, I’ve got my mud hut picked out.  It’s pretty far down a dirt road, past Paul’s orphanage.  It’s under a lovely green tree, and it’s small and circular with a lovely grass roof.  I will live there one day.
And I made a new friend named Juliet.  We walked and talked and she showed me all of the fruit trees.  Those children are so precious.

Juliet and me

And we had church in a mud hut.  Coolest thing of my life.
And I finally got to drink Stoney Tangawizi again!  It’s my absolute favourite drink, but I have yet to find any in America.  But here they have so much of it, and I love it.
This is a beautiful night.  The moon is big and nearly full, the air is still and cool, and as I sit here under the big palm tree, I think I must be the happiest person alive.
You know, this trip is going by reeeeeally slowly.  Really really slowly.  Which is odd because that has never happened before.  Usually they go by so fast.
Here I am, in Africa, loving every minute of it, and the time is passing so slowly so there are even more minutes to love.

These people know how to do church.

Now we are sitting waiting for our car to come and take us to Busia.  Today will be very packed.  Busia is five hours’ drive away, plus we are stopping twice along the way to do eye clinics.  Pastor Hummer wants to spend six hours at each stop, and I don’t see how that will happen as it is already nearly ten and we haven’t left yet.  If we spend six hours at each place it will be three in the morning when we get to Busia.  But Pastor Hummer is so crazy, I wouldn’t put it past him to do that!
I haven’t gotten to see Derrick in two days…I hope I have at least a short while with him to teach him guitar.  It’s so exciting to know that this guitar I am carrying will soon be his.  I can’t wait to tell him!

11:15 am
I can’t write much because we’re driving and I’ll get carsick…sigh…but there are a couple of very very important things that I absolutely must write right now.
1. We just passed a little wooden shack called “The Pork Joint” with various pig parts hanging on a string across the front.  This is Africa, people.
2. If I want to live here one day (which I do) I must learn to carry things on my head.
3. We are driving over the Nile river right now as I write this.

Lunch

9:00 pm
The power is out.  Again.  But what else is new?
Living by candlelight makes me feel even more Africa-ish.  It’s really nice.
We’re in Busia finally.  Just got here.  I got to see Nyangweso again, but I have yet to see Shadrack and Leonard.  I wonder if they still work here?
We only ended up going to one of the two churches we had planned, but we did spend a full six hours there.
Here in Uganda you never get what you bargain for.  Yesterday’s clinic had far fewer patients than we had anticipated, but today’s had way more.  Way more.  But a guy accepted Christ after getting his glasses, so it was completely worth it.
My translator, Emma, was awesome.  He’s a really cool guy.  I simply love meeting new people in my travels, especially when they’re close to my age and I can relate to them.  I had a lot of fun meeting him.  But he ended up getting sick and going home early, which was a bummer.
And today we saw a pink chicken!  A bright, highlighter-pink chicken.  Its owners dyed it so it wouldn’t attract hawks and such.  It was pretty hardcore.

Then in the evening after the clinic was over but we hadn’t left the church yet, some guys were playing the keyboard and I joined them and we played music for a while.  Then I got out my guitar (Derrick’s, actually!) and the kids loved it as always.  I love playing music together.  It’s so cool how you can just sit down and play music together and not have to say a single word.  Music is such a gift.
These people are so lovable.  It’s hard, because I can’t help but love them with my whole heart, and it hurts so much to love them like that knowing I may never see them again.  I just love them all so much…I can’t help it.
But it’s okay.  I may never see them again on earth, but that will only make it even more glorious when I finally see them again in Heaven.  I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

When we took a break for lunch (at 5 in the afternoon!) we had soda, and nobody had a bottle opener so one of the guys, Michael, opened them with his teeth!  It was pretty hardcore.
You know, every time I am on mission like this, I am reminded anew how strong God is. Because yesterday I was so very tired, and I said to myself, “I can’t do this again.”  But today, God worked things out and made me able to do it again.  It always blows my mind how, when I am so tired and incapable, God is so much stronger and greater than I am.
I love these people.  I love how when they want you to take a photo of them, they say “shoot me!” It’s so cute.

Now we are about to eat dinner.  Did I mention how I love African food?  I am having goat stew with matoke and rice.  OM NOM NOM.  Yes.  And watermelon juice.  Real, fresh, true watermelon juice.
You know what’s funny?  I dress so colourful here in Africa.  In the States I wear grey and black and brown and dark colours.  But here I wear yellow and green and pink and blue.  I’m just so happy…I guess the clothes I wear hear reflect my heart.
Today I was telling Grace how this is my favourite place, and she couldn’t believe it.  But I told her yes, it’s true! And I told her how I want to live here one day, and she just laughed.

Last night, Leenie was standing up on the bed, wrapped up in the quilt, beatboxing and hiccuping and shaking her butt like an African woman.  For those of you who have never met Leenie, let me tell you that she is not the sort of person you expect to see that sort of behaviour from.  Anyway, then she fell off the bed, and we were both laughing so hard, and Sue just gave Leenie a funny look and went back to reading.
Tonight I shall be more careful to shut my mosquito net, because I’m getting horribly bit.
But now I’m going to have a shower, because I have so much dirt on my skin that you can see the outline of my shoes and clothes.  It’s a good feeling, being this filthy.  It means I worked hard and poured myself out.

I’ll tell you what, I could eat Ugandan food every flipping day of my life.  Every day.  By far my favourite sort of food.  So good.
I love how they call glasses ‘goggles’ here.  Makes my day, every time.  And how they call me doctor.  ”Doctor, I need a pair of goggles.”  So precious.
One lady I examined gave me a really beautiful necklace made of painted beans.  I shall wear it every day of my life.
Today I also got to see Mercy and Esther and Mum Alice, and meet baby Mark.  And Derrick took my camera for the day and got some grand pictures.

And on the way home we had nine people in a six-passenger van, and I sat on Dad’s lap.  Haven’t done that in a good ten years.  And strangely, it isn’t quite as comfortable as I remember.  It was pretty funny.

I got to hug all my babies today.  Oh, how I love them so.  How I just love them.  My precious babies.  I just want to cry, I love them so much.  I could fill this whole page with how much I love them.
Derrick asked me today if I could teach him to play my guitar.  I wanted so badly to tell him that it’s not my guitar, it’s his.  But I’m not ready to tell him yet.  When I do, though, it will be the best moment of my life.
I’m in Uganda.  I want to skip up and down the hall right now because I am in Uganda.  I’m here.  As soon as I set foot in this country, I said to myself, “I’m back.”  This is so right.  Everything about this place is just right.  I just…can’t find words.  I am so full of joy and the only thing I can think of to write about is how much I love this place.  I could fill a whole book with how much I love it here.

Oh wait.  A story before I go.  A guy accepted Christ 5 years ago, but he was never able to read his Bible because he couldn’t see it.  We have him glasses today, and he just dug right in.  I wish I were always as eager to read God’s Word as that man was today.  He could finally, finally read it, and then he just couldn’t put it down!
Stories like that are so cool.  It’s things like that which remind me why we do this.  Even if that man were the only life that was changed on this trip, it would still be worth every ounce of effort, every moment, every penny that has been spent on this trip.
I love this.
Oh, one more thing.  This is the conversation that just took place, and I think it perfectly illustrates the way time works in Africa:
Dad: “When do we need to be at the church tomorrow?”
Pastor Hummer: “Nine.”
Dad: “So what time will the van get here to pick us up?”
Pastor Hummer: “Sometime.  Sometime in the morning.” 

January 3rd, 11:00 am Amsterdam time
I’m on the airplane again.  This is our second leg of flight.  From Amsterdam to Nairobi.  Almost eight hours.  Then only one more leg, Nairobi to Entebbe, and we will be at our destination country!  Then an hour or two in the van, and we’ll finally be there.  I still can’t quite believe I am going to be back in Uganda again.
Jake and Noah and I are having a grand time in all the airports, messing about and wandering.  Having them along with me this time is making everything even more awesome.

January 4th, 2:30 am Uganda time
I hate airplanes so much.  I just hate them.  But it’s so worth all the miserable plane rides to finally be here.  When we came out of the airport, Pastor Hummer and some others were there waiting for us.  When I saw them, I could have cried.  I ran up to Derrick and gave him the biggest hug.  I missed him like crazy.  He’s gotten so grown up since I last saw him.  He’s gotten a good bit taller, and his voice is all deep and stuff now.  But he’s still just the same as I remember him.
On the ride from the airport to the hotel, I cried.  I stared out the window at my beloved Uganda, and I breathed in that thick familiar scent of Africa, and I cried.  Oh, how I missed this place.
Now I am sprawled on my bed under my mosquito net, utterly exhausted, and probably the happiest person alive.

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