Four Weeks In, Four Weeks Out

The last time I wrote a blog, I was stunned that I was already in Uganda for four weeks. Now I am confronted with the fact that I have only four weeks remaining in this beautiful country! I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to leave - in fact, I know I'm not - though, I suppose I have a month to prepare myself for my assigned departure date of August 28th.

The amount that I have done these past two months seems incredible.  Here is a brief highlight of everything since my last post:

• Wrote an entire 200-page book - compiling my supervisor's past four years of research - that is now copyrighted and being sold all over the city of Kampala
• Taught a teaching seminar with my supervisor to about 100 teachers and parents from all over the city of Kampala (which there is now a request for the same seminar to be taught to 300 teachers and parents)
• Helped host a short-term missions team for three weeks in June
  • Helped run and facilitate parent teaching sessions and a Vacation Bible School at a children's library in the slums, a 10-minute walk from where I live
  • Travelled to the rural village of Pallisa, where we taught various subjects in a primary boarding school, preached in an even more rural village, played lots of football (that is, soccer), and established many relationships with the teachers and boarding students there (I am now being called Pastor James there!)
  • Assisted in helping the team travel from Point A to Point B, aiding them in various background tasks (such as providing food for the parent teaching sessions)
• Helped host a short-term missions team for two weeks in July
  • Prepared and taught a week-long music camp at an international school
  • Helped facilitate a week-long basketball camp at an international school (such as providing snacks and lunch for the kids and leaders)
  • Travelled to the rural village of Pallisa once more, where I preached in the same other rural village (whose name I still do not know), and helped to expose the team to a different aspect of life in Uganda

Life here has never been dull or boring, that's for sure! Whether I'm teaching a music camp or writing a book, there are things that I have done that I never thought I would do in my entire life, and I praise God for the continuance of these amazing opportunities being presented before me! Thank you for all who have been continuing to support me in your prayers and communication, whether through calling, email, Facebook, Skype, FaceTime, iMessage, or any other form of social media. Without you - and, of course, the strength that God provides - I would not be able to continue in all that I am doing.

Look forward to a very important blog update in the next couple of days!

What Is a Missional Life?

Wow, I can't believe I've been in Uganda for almost four weeks now! It's been quite the journey. I think the "honeymoon stage" of my trip has now ended, meaning that I have started to miss home, family, and friends, but God has surely been with me every step of the way. He is the reason that I'm here, and He is enough to sustain me. Wherever I find myself. Here's a quick summary of what I've been up to:

• Supervising music exams at Heritage International School, including marking portions of these exams.
• Shadowing a middle and high school music teacher, learning by observing, and helping whenever I can.
• Helping a grade four teacher with group activities.
• Spending time with children in a juvenile prison with an organization called 60 Feet (www.sixtyfeet.org).  This includes helping to lead them in worship (but most of the time, they are leading me!), and teaching them how to play guitar.
• Riding boda boda's, the local motorcycle taxi transportation that weaves in and out of traffic, sometimes on the wrong side of the road.
• Helping to lead worship at a local school that houses previous street kids, called Doors Ministries.
• A hospital visitation at the International Hospital of Kampala, the best hospital in Uganda.
• Slowly learning Luganda, the official language of Kampala (besides English).
• Tutoring a special needs child music (both trumpet and violin).
• Learning brain developments and behaviours in children, specifically how trauma affects the brain.
• Helping to teach children a curriculum that educates them about the importance of emotional health and safety.
• Helping to translate North American concepts of a curriculum into a Ugandan context.

Something that I started learning and paying particularly close attention to within the past two months is the concept of margins. Put simply, margins is any remaining resources subsequent to fulfilling responsibilities. In other words, at the end of the day, do you have any time, energy, money, emotion, or motivation (or a number other things) left over, or have you spent it all - plus some - on all the activities, meetings, and events throughout the day? In North America, margins seems to be a little-known concept, and as a Christian, I believe this poses two great issues that many do not consider.

First, without margins, burnout is inevitable. People who keep going without any rest or margins in the name of ministry and serving, in the end will find themselves unable to keep going. They will burn out.

Second, without margins, it is almost impossible for God to interrupt your day and for you to listen and obey what He desires you to do in that particular moment.

If, for instance, you receive a phone call from a friend in distress, do you have the margins in your life to be a light in your friend's life at that moment, or is that phone call simply an inconvenience because you have so many other responsibilities to fulfill?

If, for instance, a mother's son needs to go to the hospital, and there is no one else to sit with the mother while the son is in the operation room, do you have the margins to keep her company, or is it a disruption and a bother, an event that upsets the rest of your plans for the day?

That is not to say that you should let others take advantage of you, for margins also includes time for oneself to recuperate and to rest. I am merely scratching the surface of the concept of margins, attempting to relate it to living a missional lifestyle.

*Insert segue here*

I believe that it is impossible to live a missional lifestyle - a life that I believe God calls all people to live - without having margins.

A missional lifestyle simply means living a life on mission. 24/7. It means that at every moment, you are on mission to shine the light of Christ to a darkened world; to proclaim the Gospel of Christ in both word and deed at all times; not simply just on a scheduled missions trip.

“A missional lifestyle simply means living a life on mission. 24/7.”

My supervisor recently told me that she believes you cannot always schedule ministry, for ministry opportunities occur at all hours of the day, not just in set times of the day, or in specific services and events throughout the week. This became clear to me a few days ago as I sat with a mother in a hospital waiting room, who was worried for her child whose hip was dislocated and fractured from falling off a swing. This was not a planned ministry event, but a ministry opportunity that God placed before me to serve Him. The time I spent with this mother has been one of the highlights of my time in Uganda so far, as I read some of our favourite passages of the Bible to her. The hunger and desire she has to hear and understand God's Word is incredible. Not only just my presence of being there, but reading the Bible together gave her courage and peace that the surgery would be successful. (Her son now has a cast on, and is recovering well.)

If I had have been busy with so many other scheduled ministry events and services, I would not have had the time to be with this mother, something I believe God wanted me to do. Being busy seems to be the new badge of honour in North America, yet I believe that being less busy not only increases our own health (in all its aspects), but also allows us to not be inconvenienced by opportunities that God presents us to serve. Instead, it helps us to welcome the moments to serve those God puts in our path, ultimately serving Christ.

As I look through the gospel accounts in the Bible, I do not see anything to support Jesus scheduling ministry events. Perhaps He did when He was preaching the beatitudes, as recorded in Matthew. Perhaps He did when He taught the Word of God to the people on the shore while He sat in a boat, as recorded in Luke.

But it never once says Jesus did.

In the four gospel accounts, Jesus was constantly being interrupted throughout His time on earth. Crowds continuously followed Him. Sick and diseased people were persistently being brought before Him. Teachers of the law incessantly questioned and accused Him. Not once do I see a time where Jesus scheduled a healing service, or a weekend preaching seminar.

“In the four gospel accounts, Jesus was constantly being interrupted throughout His time on earth.”

I am not saying that these ministry services are wrong or illegitimate. I am simply making an observation that Jesus' recorded ministry occurred in the moments presented before Him. He taught as He went. He healed as He went. He served as He went.

I am also not trying to minimize Sunday church services, for I believe wholeheartedly that meeting together with the body of Christ weekly is very important for every follower of Jesus. I am, however, trying to expand my own thoughts, that Sunday morning services are enough.

They aren't.

A disciple of Jesus must serve with his/her entire being. Every day. Every hour. Every moment. This is what true worship is.

I do not claim to have sufficient knowledge to properly define a missional lifestyle, nor do I feel adequate to assess my own life to see if I am doing ministry well.

I am in no way striving to judge the life of others, for I am a professional when it comes to not having margins in my life.

I am simply observing and learning.

I am simply wrestling with what it means to live a missional lifestyle.

Observations Change Perspectives

* Any names given to the characters of my experience are fictional, though the characters themselves are quite real. *

It's amazing how it only takes one second to change your life, let alone 30 minutes. It's also amazing how, as life goes on, perspectives change.

I remember my first exposure to orphanages while I was on a short-term missions trip to the Dominican Republic with my youth group back in 2009. I remember playing with the kids. I remember how happy they were that I was spending time with them. It felt great, and I was sad to leave, even though I had only been there for a couple of hours. I left that orphanage feeling like I had somehow impacted those children's lives, and with that, I never gave it a second thought of how it might feel to live in an orphanage, what it might feel like to be helpless, without hope. Perhaps, it was because I wasn't looking for things such as that. I simply wanted to spend time with the kids, and that's exactly what I did. I wasn't observing my surroundings; I was simply enjoying the few moments I had with the children.

Today, I am in distress - because I simply observed.

Yesterday, I visited an orphanage, and the 30 minutes that I spent there leaves me unsure of how to respond. I arrived with a small bag of cookies I wanted to give to each child there. (There are about 20 young children total.) I walked up to the receptionist in the small entry of the orphanage. She was smiling and seemed very kind, and told me that it was too late for me to feed the children cookies, but assured me that she would deliver them for me. I tried a couple of times to say that I wanted to be the one to give the cookies to them. She then got who I assumed to be the head of the establishment to take me in to see the children. As we walked through a dark hallway, she proceeded to tell me why I couldn't hand out the cookies to the kids, but she assured me that they would receive them another day. Whether the kids will ever see the cookies, let alone eat any of them, is up for debate; however, that is not what I am dwelling upon.

As I made my way from the hallway into the small playground outside, there were about a dozen children, ages ranging from newborn to about 3 years old. There were some on a merry-go-round, some walking around, one alone on a swing, and one very young child on the lap of one of the workers. Of these workers, there were about 4 of them, all standing or sitting under the shade, hardly interacting with any of the children (save the one woman rocking the child back and forth). Immediately, I noticed a 2-year-old boy come up to me, who almost started crying. (We'll call him Jason.) I assumed he wanted to be picked up. As I proceeded to do so, I noticed a fowl smell coming from him, and as soon as I held him in my arms, I felt a wetness seeping into my shirt. I carried Jason around for a little longer before putting him down, which he did not like at all. With some green feces on my shirt, I could see his soaking wet overalls, with what looked like dried liquid that had previously run down his legs. In normal circumstances, I would have been disgusted, yet my pity for this child overwhelmed me. I wrestled in my mind whether it was my right to tell one of these workers to do their job and to tend to Jason's needs. During this time, I noticed a small boy sitting by himself, far away from all people, on the outskirts of the compound. (We'll call him Nicholas.) I could barely make out his face, but it was easy enough to see that it was full of hopelessness.

I decided to walk Jason to the workers - who were again just standing or sitting around - and I suggested that he needed to be changed. I also showed them the remains on my shirt. I heard one of the woman talking in her native tongue (probably Luganda) to another person I could not see. It took about half a minute for this person - or anyone for that matter - to emerge to take this child for his care and changing. No one wanted to get up and tend to this boy's need!

I was indignant.

Once Jason was taken away, I was assured that I would have something with which to clean my shirt, though I wasn't as concerned with my shirt as I was about Jason's wellbeing.

During the next 10 minutes or so, I attempted to interact with a little girl, no more than 2 years old, who was sitting by herself with a doll. (We'll call her Haley.) I sat beside her, rubbing her arm gently. I took the doll that she was barely holding onto, and attempted to play with her, dangling the doll in front of her, but she wouldn't even look at me. It was if she didn't even acknowledge my presence. She didn't even seem to notice that I had her doll in my hands, for when I went to place it back in her arms, she didn't even seem to notice or care that the doll was back in her possession. What was going through that poor girl's mind, I have no idea, but I know for sure that it is not normal for a child to exhibit behaviour like this, especially when there were plenty of other young children who responded with smiles when I played with them on the merry-go-round.

Just then, Nicholas started to cry, alone, isolated, and hopeless.

Is it normal for babies to cry? Of course! When babies can't use words, it is the only form of communication to tell others of a need, whether it is hunger, thirst, touch, sleep, etc. This cry, however, was none of those. It was a chilling cry of abandonment, filled with the emptiness of loneliness and hopelessness. This, along with another cry of the same shivering pitch coming from within the building, made me sick. I told God how badly I wanted to leave this place, but I knew I need to stay for longer.

As I played with the children on the merry-go-round, I would gently spin them, high-fiving or fist-bumping them as they passed me by. The children responded with smiles and laughter. Every time. It never seemed to get old for them, and neither did it get old for me. One child, however, caught my attention. Sure, he was not the cheeriest of the rest, but that was not what drew my attention to him; it was the fact that his pants kept falling down. I wondered why this little boy, perhaps 4 years of age, could not keep his pants on, and I realized that his pants didn't even fit him! With no underwear on underneath, he kept being exposed with every move he made with his legs. Thankfully he had clothing in general, but I wanted to shake my head in disgust that he was not given clothing that fit him.

Just then, Jason clung to me again, wanting me to pick him up, this time cleaned and in new clothing. As I did, I continued to high-five the children on the merry-go-round with one hand, while holding this small boy in my other arm. As my arm grew weary, I tried putting him down in the merry-go-round, but he would start to cry as soon as I lowered him in the seat. He simply did not want to leave my side. I succeed a couple of times to get him to stay in the chair with the other children, high-fiving them as they spun around; however, with Jason, his high-fives were gentle, as if he desired to hold my hand instead. I eventually picked him up again, and he soon took the hat off my head and tried to place it on his. We interacted like this for a few minutes, playing with my hat. It was probably one of the only moments I saw him smile, or what seemed like a smile.

I knew I couldn't stay for much longer, though, so I tried as best as I could to get him seated again in the merry-go-round without him noticing me leaving. I didn't want to be the reason he cried. Who knows if he would have sounded like those other 2 children who broke my heart?

As I left, I said my goodbyes to the workers, telling them that I wanted to come back. This wasn't a lie, for I do want to go back, simply to spend time with the children and to make sure that they are being properly taken care of. At the same time, however, I don't want to go back at all. I could barely stand being in there for 15 minutes, let alone 30.

As I walked back into the hallway, I noticed a small boy - perhaps just over a year old - sitting by himself in the dark. Did anyone even know he was there? Would anyone even know - or even care - if he vanished? I tried to coax him into coming to me, but as he got up, he turned and exited the hallway, approaching the playground.

I turned around and walked down the darkened hallway to the door that leads to the entry. I looked at all the doors with locks on the outside of each one, only high enough for adults to reach. From within one of these rooms was where one of those shrilling cries I had heard earlier came from. Was there a child locked behind one of these doors?

I left that orphanage stunned. Was this what most orphanages are like? Was this what the orphanage I visited 6 years ago was like, only back then I didn't notice it - because I didn't observe my surroundings? It makes me wonder how much we as human beings miss, simply because we aren't observant enough. Perhaps if we opened our eyes a little wider, we would see the injustice surrounding us. Perhaps if we opened our eyes a little longer, we would see the hopelessness in others. They are hopeless because they do not understand what true hope is.

Hope is not a thing. Hope is not a strong expectation or desire for a certain outcome. Hope is a person, and His name is Jesus (1 Timothy 1:1), which means, my God saves! Jesus is the hope of the nations (Matthew 12:21)! And this hope lives in me! If I have such hope - hope that says, my God saves! - how can I go about my day when I am surrounded by such hopeless people, and not be compelled to share this hope that I have?

Perhaps here in Uganda, the hopelessness is a little more noticeable, a little less covered up than in North America, but I am certain that with a little adjustment to our eyes, our ignorance will be unveiled, and God will reveal the hopeless surrounding us. May God compel us with the same compassion that Jesus had on the crowds as He walked among them (Matthew 9:36). May God compel us with a burning passion to share the hope we have to a hopeless world. God, send us among the crowds.

Wherever we find ourselves.

Getting my Bearings

I have officially been in Uganda for 8 days and 19 hours! And I have loved every moment of it! This past week has been a time of recovering from jet lag (whatever notion I had of jet lag being easy was a lie and a half!), getting my late luggage, becoming familiar with my neighbourhood and the culture, understanding how to live in a house of 11 people (that's the minimum!), and getting connected with different people and organizations with whom I have the potential of working over the summer. So, if you were expecting life changing stories, I'm sorry to disappoint, but there are still over three more months left; don't worry!

But that's not to say that this week hasn't been amazing!

Here's what I have been up to:

• Tutoring music with students at Heritage International School.
• Shadowing a middle and high school music teacher, learning by observing, and helping whenever I can.
• Helping to drain water out of a flooded local children's library called, The Giving Tree.
• Spending time with children in a juvenile prison with an organization called, 60 Feet (www.sixtyfeet.org).
• Riding boda boda's, the local motorcycle taxi transportation that weaves in and out of traffic.
• Tonight, I will be spending time eating with street kids at a shelter, worshipping God alongside them.

Who knows what other cool opportunities the future will bring! Right now, I am focused on making as many connections with people and organizations as I can in order to make the best informed decision as to where I would like to spend the majority of my time and energy. I know God has been allowing opportunities to come to me left, right, and centre. I pray that He will also guide me to which ones require the most of my time.

And the Adventure Begins...

After having finished cleaning and moving out of my apartment, and after having packed my bags, my parents and I finally fell asleep at 2:30am yesterday with only 2 hours of sleep to give us enough energy to say our goodbyes at the airport early that morning. (I am currently in Ontario staying with my sister.) I can't quite exactly express my feelings right now. I don't think it's quite hit me yet that I am leaving Alberta for four months to a different continent! Yet, at the same time, I am stoked beyond belief, and also nervous, too. This past week has been such a whirlwind. It seems just like yesterday that the opportunity for me to serve in Uganda was presented to me, yet that was more than eight months ago. I know that these next four months will fly by, and I hope to make the most of every moment I am there.

Late at night tomorrow, I fly out from Toronto to Amsertdam, and from there to Uganda. Thank you to all my supporters. It's so encouraging to know that I am not alone in this journey, as I have God going before me, beside me, and behind me; and I have all of you praying for me. Thank you.

I look forward to writing my next post while on Ugandan soil!

I'm Calm, Cool & I'm Freaking Out!

It's unbelievable to think that in one week, I will be walking onto a plane that will take me halfway around the world! It seems like it has come so fast, and yet I've been waiting for this moment for so long. As I've been working out all the little details before going, I've also been reflecting on the many memories that won't be made with old friends here in Edmonton, but also the many that will be made with new friends in Uganda. It is a bittersweet moment.

Do I feel ready for this trip? Absolutely not. But as a wise professor told me today, if I did feel completely ready, it probably wouldn't be a good thing. I couldn't find anyone to replace me or my roommate for the duration of the summer, so I have to deal with moving out of my apartment before leaving, which was an unexpected stressor. I know that once I leave Edmonton, there'll be no turning back, and therefore no use in worrying about all the things I'm worrying about now. I know that God is in control, and this thought alone gives me peace. It's a thought I have to keep reminding myself over and over again.

$UCCE$$

First, I'd like to thank each person who contributed to the coffeehouse fundraiser on Saturday. Whether you helped volunteer with your talents musically, comedically, foodically, or drinkally; or whether you came and showed your support physically or financially, this fundraiser really would not have happened without you. It's encouraging to know that I have a support group such as yourselves. Thank you!

On Saturday, over $800 was collected, and with the leftover baked goods, over $150 was raised this past Monday and Tuesday! This surpassed my expectations by almost double! Overall, I have raised almost $3,000, leaving only $2,000 left of my total goal. I am so grateful for everyone who shows their support financially, with encouragement, or with their prayers. Thank you so much!

I hope that all who attended the coffeehouse enjoyed your time. I know I thoroughly did!

T Minus 23 Days

It's crazy to think that in less than one month, I will be moving halfway across the world for the entire summer (May-August). It's even crazier to think that God chose me to go to Uganda. As I write this, I definitely don't feel prepared. There seems to be so many details that need to be finalized, and yet somehow I know they will all come together.

As the semester approaches its end, it's easy for me to become distracted by all the assignments due and with all the events I'm involved in. It's also not unusual for me to take on too many responsibilities at one time, and this semester I think I definitely took on more than I can chew. Maybe one day I'll learn my lesson...

Regardless, in 21 days, I will be flying to Ontario to hold my niece for the first time. In 23 days, I will be flying from Ontario to Uganda. In 119 days, I will be flying back to Edmonton, hopefully with amazing memories, stories, pictures, ideas, revelations, and life lessons, all of which I can share with you. Can't wait to keep you posted!