Day 1
Kulikayo!
This Ugandan phrase means "welcome back." It is used to celebrate the return of a friend or loved one, whether after a day of work, a week of travel, or, in some cases, years of absence. On our first day, we were welcomed by the love of family and friends, the challenges of mission work in Uganda, and the blessings of coming together during tough times. Mie, Josh, and I were deeply moved by the love we received upon our return. We were greeted with open arms, hugs, and laughter. Many had been watching and praying for us from afar, hoping for our reunion. However, before we could fully immerse ourselves in the work, we had to face the typical burdens of U.S. missionaries: the loss of comfort and control.
A friend in the military once taught me a phrase that applies to missions: "First plans don’t survive first contact." Unfortunately, due to unexpected car repairs and rebooking our lodging the night before, our time was compressed. We had already traveled over 100 miles by the end of the first day, after 23 hours in the air and an additional 4 hours on the ground with no A/C. Exhaustion and travel-related stomach sickness were real challenges. Our lodging, four flights of stairs above the city, promised internet but provided only an hour or two each day. By the time we reached our last family and friends visit before our first ministry, Mie and I were exhausted. I wondered to God if these burdens were too much for the first days of our trip.
The last visit the team was invited to meet the extended family of the Situkas. Several of my aunts, cousins, and uncles made food for us. We met Jaja, meaning grandmother and also a name of honor given to our female elders of the family. At 92, she was the oldest matriarch in the family but no one would have guessed it because she greeted us with singing and dancing. She shared a few words from 1 John 4:7, emphasizing that the love from family and God can help us get through anything. I reflected on how this family and many others survived the pandemic, enduring a lockdown, military-enforced curfew, drought, and locust infestation. Many Ugandans have yet to recover, but JaJa's survival tactic was simple: love God and the family He gave you. I cherished those words. If it was good for JaJa, then it's good for me. We ate, sang, and danced with her. The family gave Mie a new dress and prayed for us. We shared stories and then went home.
On the drive back, despite my exhaustion, I felt a sense of purpose and care that eclipsed my discomfort. I remembered that God brought me here not just to love other Ugandans but to join in on the family love He provides. Feeling changed, I looked forward to our first full day of ministry.