Neurotic, As Usual

I realize I have spent a lot of time sharing and writing about events and experiences, but it has been some time since I have expressed anything of a deeper nature. I suppose, because for the last 5 or so months, I have been generally quite contented and at ease, I haven’t felt the need.

I will be leaving this place in 2 months and though that is still a good chunk of time, compared to the time that’s past, it feels to be flying by at an impossible speed. Instead of feeling a healthy combination of excitement and apprehension, it feels like more of a combination of joy, longing and fear with a bit of anxiety thrown in for good measure.

I have no doubt that this tension has been compounded by a long series of cloudy mornings which, in turn, keeps the kids undercover and screaming outside our bedroom window by 7:30am each morning and the fact that the time I’m spending to write this is the first I’ve spent on my own since I got back from Zanzibar. All of this conflicting emotion has left me extremely contemplative, nostalgic and a little run down. I’ve been picking apart my relevance here, the contributions I’ve made… Have I made an impact? Left a mark? Has this time been worth something? I’ve been examining myself… Have I changed? For the better or otherwise? My relationships… Have I made a good enough effort to maintain my friendships from home? Should I have put more effort into deepening the friendships I’ve made outside of our home? Is there even a point anymore? I’ve been looking to the future… Will I struggle to adjust? How long will it take? Do I want things to be just how they were before? And the big one… Will I be back?

Regardless of the answer to that question, it will be good to be home. It is certainly draining to live in a transient home/community where you’re regularly either going through the first stages of knowing someone or saying goodbye to someone you’ve grown to care for deeply. It’s draining to live in a dorm room with 2-5 other people no matter how well you get along. It’s draining to fear the lack of adequate medical care, not so much for myself as I have peace in the fact that my life is in the hands of God, but for our kids. It’s hard to know that some of them have medical conditions that are serious and unpredictable and have the potential of going bad very quickly and we’d be powerless to provide the level of care that is needed. Selina is a perfect example of that and that is not something I am eager to experience again. It is also draining to fear the corruption, the lack of justice and the atrocities that take place so close to our home.

There are days when I feel the compassion and kindness that I’d hoped would be fostered and grown within me has been replaced by a bitterness and cynicism that scares me.

For one, this place has shattered my views on adoptions but I can hardly go into that without it turning into a 3 page diatribe that would shock anyone with a feeling heart. All I will say is that if you feel that by adopting internationally, we are somehow “saving” these children or that a child in an orphanage is there because they have no one else to care for them, then we need to have a conversation. I have seen firsthand the acute damage this type of thinking can cause. It is saddening to me that the reality and truth I’ve been exposed to has caused me to recognize that we have perverted yet another thing that God intended for good. Instead of integrity, there is selfishness; instead of compassion, there is greed…instead of humanity, there is human trafficking.

Secondly, the amount NGO’s and resources in Jinja makes it very unnecessary for children to beg in the streets and not only do they know it, but giving them money actually perpetuates the problem. So when a child approaches me and says, “Auntie, I’m hungry…” and puts out their hands, do I feel love and compassion for this child? No. I feel annoyance and impatience. Given that a good number of these kids aren’t needy at all and just don street clothes and puppy eyes to take advantage of the tourists - and I’ve had more than one occasion where a refusal has been answered by a harsh word or a rude gesture – I suppose I should give myself a break, but it still doesn’t feel good to be so hardened.

And to round it off, there is the pettiness I have seen within the community here and the added joy of recognizing prejudices within myself that I find both puzzling and disgusting; like the absurd idea that Ugandans somehow don’t love their children the same way we do. It is certainly not for me to judge conduct especially given that a parent’s desire to give away a child with special needs often has more to do with a lack of resources, finances, and deep-rooted superstition and a mother’s ability to carry on after the death of a child is a necessity for survival; as is the general resilience in the face of immense suffering that is so evident here…we don’t know suffering, so I suppose that makes it easy to mistake strength for indifference.

This all is not in any way a summary of my experience here; it is just an explanation of why there are days when I am simply tired; this is just half of the story. My time here has also been filled with daily joy and laughter and I have seen an abundance of love and compassion shown and received and God has been his usual faithful self. He has been answering general prayers as well as the continual prayer that he establish within me a spirit of humility and a confidence in who I am. It seems I have difficulty balancing those two attributes as when I am confident, I am proud and when I have been humbled, I second guess myself constantly.

I suppose I can expect that these things will never quite resolve as my personality has me constantly examining myself but one of the most encouraging and foundational things that I’ve learned is that humility is not about simply feeling differently…you will never just suddenly be someone who is completely unaware of yourself and those things that nurture your pride. It’s about choices. If I am serious about wanting to serve God with a humble heart, I will make choices daily to do so. This means I will apologize first even when my pride tells me I should not be the one to do so, this means I will choose to clean up a mess when my pride tells me it’s not my problem, this means I will choose to love and bless and pray for someone even when I am annoyed or when my pride says they don’t deserve it; and all this without bitterness. I feel that if my pride has hardened my heart like a stone in my chest, each time I choose love over pride, I am choosing a chisel and hammer over a rag and polish and allowing God to take care of the rest. I look forward to the day when this conflict is no longer a driving force in my life.

So, how am I? I suppose I am in a state of preparing my heart to leave and trying to keep myself from spending time picking apart every last moment and feeling guilty about the things I wish I’d done more or less of. That is far from productive, I know that. I am also trying to be conscious of not shutting down or hiding away as a way of protecting my heart because that is wasted time and I would regret it. So, for now, I will just continue doing what I’ve been called here to do and do my best to take advantage of every last moment.

One last thing: A couple days ago Emily H came into our room and nonchalantly mentioned that some boys had been to the gate trying to sell us a baby monkey. I dropped what I was doing and ran outside, hoping I hadn’t missed them and laughing as I ran given that Emily had called out behind me that if I brought it in, she was moving out. It was starting to rain and the boys were heading off to find cover, but I selfishly delayed them and got to hold the little guy. He gripped his little arms and legs around my hand and wrist and let me stroke his furry head. I know it seems ridiculous to compare this to seeing Zanzibar or the birth of a child, but it was definitely up there on my list of cool experiences. 

Just some random photos:

At church. It's been quite rainy lately...no one should be surprised at this photo...

Dance/dress-up party...so cute...and yes, Jason is wearing a sparkly dress...

Just a shot out the front window of Job's car on the way to Kampala...