It is already February 1, 2014. It is Saturday, always a lively day at KCC. After a typical small western omelet and cappuccino at the hotel for about $2.50, we walked next door to KCC. We were greeted as usual by the KCC guards, Peter, Able, Jimmy and Terzol, the café staff, Rebecca and Fatuma, the administrations staff, Isaac, Joseph, Willy, Fred, Ladies from the Women of Grace who are gathering for the weekly devotional, and other members preparing for the Life Care Group class that Steve is teaching. Children arrive and are running around the chapel area with laughter and playing on the swing set. The mango, jackfruit and banana trees reflect the sunshine. The crows compete with the street out front that roars with huge buses, motorcycles, horns and people calling out to each other. Across the street, the workers continue to hammer nails in the new high rise that has taken over a decade to rough in. As people arrive, they have on their minds rental fees, HIV medicine, surgeries that are needed, school fees, graduations happening this week, jaws sore from rotted teeth, spouses who are away working in the villages, safety and security concerns for being a refugee, tiredness for never being in a restful place, families split up due to refugee status, persecution for honoring the Lord’s Word, marriage concerns, ministry concerns, and trauma issues. Two little ones about seven years old share hugs and sweet bright white smiles and it feels natural to play with them. Sometimes, we see Able take the two into one of the rooms to teach them a Sunday School song. The newspaper arrives and a few read it on the porch. The day moves on with a cup of coffee made by Jimmy who loves to serve. Joseph blesses me with a jar of homemade peanut and sesame butter and I anticipate making the best cookies ever. Steve sneezes 6 times as usual and we wonder will it rain today and clear the dust and exhaust from the air. The Women of Grace class starts with a devotional and then discussion on how to progress the group goals for the year. After a short break, a typical lunch is served by Rebecca and Fatuma. It is always a large plate of very filling food and the left overs are enjoyed by someone who did not have enough food this week. Next is Steve’s class to train Life Care Group Leaders. Class members fight fatigue, heat and humidity. Cell phones call members away. You might even see a little three year old with a waste basket covering his head like a helmet running around Steve while he is teaching. Now a few have come to play chess on the porch and maybe solve a few political problem spoken in the Lugandan language.
Meanwhile, one of our bank accounts at home is compromised, our friends and family are fighting to stay warm in the frigid winter. We are homesick for family, friends and kitties. Today, we are not hearing any riots in the people packed blocks down the hill. We are not aware of any threats of terrorism. But we always stay alert to the possibilities. Ouch, a mosquito bite. Did it carry malaria? Woops, I see Steve and Leslie have their shoes off. How can I get a message to them during class that the floor is a tromping ground of germs that our bodies were not made for…. As I listen to Steve teach a marvelous lesson and the Muslims have the call to prayer over the city wide loud speaker, I wonder how the audience is able to understand the American expressions and big complicated words. Will they be courageous enough to ask questions? I look into the audience and see two playing with a slinky. Will they hear the lesson? Oh, one of the leaders is missing. Will he be able to listen to the recording? Will the recording be adequate to help him learn? It is only 2:30PM. The African fly on my computer is twice the size of an American one. Now I see the slinky has become a bracelet on someone else. I have been awake six hours and my brains rattle and spin. Ah, yes, the class begins to ask questions and discuss points that have impacted them! The heart of their issues are being addressed. The lessons have been highly beneficial to them as all the others have.
By the end of the day, I will thank God for the people at home and here in Uganda that persevere, take each day minute by minute, one step at a time and honor God. I will be grateful for the experience of the day even though there is no way to describe the full measure of joy gained from the day’s activities. I will aim to rest quietly in the night anticipating Sunday worship in the village of Wakiso tomorrow.
