It happens like clockwork every year. About halfway through the course of the trip, I hit a breaking point. I've been extremely on edge the last couple of days. (It doesn't help that I am covered in some sort of strange rash and haven't been able to eat anything much for 24 hours…) But the true sources of my frustration lie more with the panicked sensation that time is slipping quickly away. How will we ever finish the multiple tasks assigned to us? How will we ever get to spend enough quality time with the Kamaras and the children? Before I know it we'll be back at the Entebbe airport preparing to fly away. This thought is distressing.
On the other hand there is a part of me that can't wait to get back to my home. This really has nothing to do with Uganda, culture, ministry, etc. It is all due to the temporary nature of our month here. The most challenging thing about this month is that we don't live here. This makes everything feel quite unsettled. I don't have the freedom or time to make a home here. Everything is makeshift, borrowed, unscripted and out of my control. This wasn't such an issue before I had children. But now with a family I find it terribly difficult to spend a month in someone else's home.
So in my heart there is a bit of a war. I long to be in a place where I can care for my family in a more settled way. But I also long to remain in Uganda, because despite the temporary nature of this trip I still feel incredibly at home here.
When we are here Scott and I dream about what a life in Uganda would be like. What kind of house we would build. What kind of home we would make. This is really where we want to establish our family. Being here gives us a sweet taste of that possibility. Yet we know that that dream is still a good many years away. There are duties and calls keeping us in America. There is also the understanding that at least for now, we do more good for the Ugandans we love by having a presence in the U.S.
In our hearts we live somewhere in between both nations. Which at times makes me feel a little homeless.
I am trying to be grateful for the time we do have here rather than being discontent with how short and hectic it actually is. Our predicament has taught me a great deal about our life as followers of Christ. What it means to feel like a pilgrim, away from your true home, longing to settle there yet still having tasks to accomplish on the journey.
For now I simply pray that the Lord would settle my spirit and organize the remainder of our days. That I would not feel anxious about anything, but trust that He will make a way to get everything done both on this small trip and all of life.