It’s my second month in Uganda; I get on a boda boda to go home. After negotiating prices, I begrudgingly get on, when will the negotiating stop? I don’t want to talk anymore. I just want to sit on my boda, get home, eat my mangoes and read a book.

83 seconds into the boda ride, my boda driver compliments me, “You speak English very good.” Already irked, I ignore him. Again he repeats, “You speak English VE-RY GOOD.” I look away and reply, very curtly, “thanks.” I am in no mood to discuss how I am China, and that I do not speak Ching-Chongese. Of course he continues, asking me where I’m from. At his seemingly condescending question I scoff back, “America. I am from America. I am an American.” And in a reprimanding tone, he refutes, “No, your color, where is your color from.” Now I’m taken aback.  My color? Where is my color from?

This question lingers on with me for some time and continues to intrigue me. Color. The color of your skin. Where is my color from? On that boda, six months ago, I answered, Korea, my parents are from Korea. And I realize how much of my color defines who I am. Conversations continue on with my Ugandan colleagues, and I start to realize that their distinctions are also thru color. Alongside their many distinct, physical features, you can tell an Acholi from a Bugandan merely by the color of their skin.  They describe their tribes and regions by the color of their skin. “I’m from the far West because the color of my skin is…” “I’m from the East because the color of my skin is…”

But the streams of color reach deeper. It’s really more like the color underneath your skin. Yes we all have the same blue/red blood flowing through us. But inside each and every one of us, therein lies a deep, vibrant array of colors. The colors of souls. A few weeks ago I was on a fairly long bus ride to Sipi Falls and in my boredom, I took out my sketchbooks and color pencils and started to draw the scene before me. Through my coloring process, I realized that the color of the skins of my fellow passengers actually wasn’t brown at all (surprise surprise). It’s purple, magenta, golden yellow, burgundy, and definitely not just brown. And definitely not black.

When we give someone a stamp of a color, we’re not really looking at them. We’re not really peering into their souls. We’re coloring them and not letting their colors flow outward. Because if we were just let the colors flow, we would realize that this culture, it’s not just a monotone color. It’s so rich. It’s vibrant, it’s majestic, it has tone, it has value, it has life, it is rhythm—it’s simply beautiful.  And that’s what Africa is. Africa is full of color. Uganda is full of color.

Earlier this week, I went out to Sipi Falls and had one of the best weeks I’ve ever had in Uganda. Waking up to the sound of the waterfall, the shower under the waterfall, the hikes, the air, the conversations, the life. It was quite amazing. But what really touched me was my last night there. I used to find it hard to believe when people told me that there are places in the world where stars looks like diamonds in the sky. I used to scoff in disbelief. And then last night happened.

I’m so glad that I wasn’t able to take a picture of it. I tried and failed. I think it would have ruined the picture. Instead,  it’s forever captured in my memory and I am still breathing in the night sky in all it’s splendor.

Look at the stars, see how they shine for you, in everything you do…

I started to think about lifestyles.  Coming to Uganda brings to light all the excess I live with. Items, luxuries which I have always considered to be a necessity of daily life are really, more than I need. I already know what the counter argument could be for this thought process, but I argue that, if we tried, we can get by life with just enough.

When we have more than enough, we have a harder time letting go. When I have more than enough, I have a stronger grip.  Isn’t that ironic? Simplify your life. When you recognize the what you need and how much of it you need in order to get by, then you have more liberty to give excess to others. To others that don’t have anything to get by.

It reminds me of the scripture with Manna.  God didn’t give His people enough Manna for a year or for that week. He gave them just enough for that day.  And the next day, He provided again: more Manna (Exodus 16:13-21)

I’m not saying abandon your savings and live what we would call “recklessly.”  I’m suggesting a serious look into your hearts to see, what is our excess.  What do I hoard? What can I let go? What can I live without? How can I cut back some luxuries so a neighbor, a brother, a sister can live with basic necessities? Does my lifestyle resonate with the rich man that took down his shed and built another to store his harvest? (Luke 12:13-21)

And he said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on.  For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing.  Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them.  Of how much more value are you than the birds! (Luke 12:22-24)

Why do we keep hoarding and not loving? God will provide for tomorrow.

Paul Rusesabagina: I’m glad that you have shot this footage and that the world will see it. It’s the only way that we have a chance, that the people will intervene
Reporter: Yeah, and if no one intervenes… it’s still a good thing to show?
Paul Rusesabagina: How can they not intervene? When they witness such atrocities?
Reporter: I think, if people see this footage, they’ll say, “Omg that’s horrible and then go on eating their dinners.”

- Hotel Rwanda

So justice is driven back,
and righteousness stands at a distance;
truth has stumbled in the streets,
honesty cannot enter.
Truth is nowhere to be found,
and whoever shuns evil becomes a prey.
The LORD looked and was displeased
that there was no justice.
He saw that there was no one,
he was appalled that there was no one to intervene

(Isaiah 59:14-16a)

Memorize v.:

3. To commit to memory, learn by heart (OED)

I was thinking about all the things that I have couped up in my mind. Old addresses, new addresses, birthdays, phone numbers, Biology, Chemistry, Newton’s Law, authors, artists, artworks, Historical dates, presidents, directions, favorite destinations, colors of the rainbow, the number of suits I own, my name, my phone number, names of family, friends colleagues, favorite quotes, social security number, passwords, how to drive, acronyms, certain tastes, smells, and touches, vocabulary words, phrases, mathematical equations, the list goes on.

And I realized, that a lot of these things that are stored up in the many boxes in my mind… are very important and dear to me.  And other things, I really could care less about.  And these memories are intricately intertwined with the person that I am today. And of all the things stored up in my memory, I realized that the list of bible verses retained is shamefully short. I can recite back to you names of artists and their art works, I can tell you how to write an English sonnet vs. an Italian one, I can talk to you about the Periodic Table (this would be an extremely short converation), and I can tell you all the numbers that categorizes my identity.  But I call myself  a Christian, a person after Christ, saying that it’s a way of life.  Yet the guidances and the Word is so far from my mind and inevitably, my heart.

So I decided, that I will memorize–No, learn by Heart the Word.

To save your life, you stop living.

covenant

Granted there are obvious precautions to take.  But I’ve come to realize that so many people stop living to save their life. Which makes me wonder, how much of your life are you living. Walking on the safe side, taking all the precautions, living without risks, it’s crippling. Live. Live. Live. Living is an adventure

Learn to watch snails. Relax. Have some faith. Stay loose. Follow your heart. Listen to old people. Travel the world. Color outside the lines–heck, color the lines. Make up words. Laugh out loud. Break the silence. Take a leap of faith. Take one day at a time. Try new things. Shake it up. Go dancing in the desert. Say thank you. Look into people’s eyes. Eat tons of ice cream. Tell people you love them. Give hugs. Run with children. Climb a mountain. Think outside the box. Take a risk. Love your neighbor. Love freely. Give what you don’t have. Make time. Go dive.
Do it now.

Last time I saw a rainbow, I was also in Africa. I was in Kenya, and after our first night, we were greeted by a beautiful rainbow arching over our church. It was just a reminder of God’s faithfulness. And He was so faithful, so present, throughout the entire trip. I’ve been struggling with what part of the bible I wanted to start reading. I didn’t know where to start. So I figured, I would start from the beginning. I was reading through Genesis and just falling in complete love with the Word–again. It was rejuvenating and just amazing to see how consistent God is. And how much He loves us. And of course, I come across the story of Noah. As I was reminded once again, of how God was faithful to such a broken generation, I was greeted by my own personal rainbow the next morning. I felt like God had specifically painted that rainbow in the sky for me (it’s all about me. haha ).  I felt like it was just waiting for me as I opened my gate to leave for work. And I just froze in my tracks, in total awe and overwhelmed with His glory. And then I snapped out of it to take a picture to document it.

But God is faithful. When you may think it’s a risk, it’s all part of His divine plan

@ slums

I really love this picture. I love what it captures.

This shot was a complete accident, a “happy mistake.” This shot was taken in one of the worst slums of Kampala. There were children inhaling Petroleum just to get the temporary high so they can forget about their hunger for the day. Deteriorating.

This picture captures a certain surreal-esque quality to it. And it reminds me that I should never come to a point where I see such injustice, such poverty in complete clarity. I don’t ever want to be at a point where I feel like I “understand” it now. I don’t ever want to think that I have it “all figured out.” I don’t ever want to be unscathed by the truth of complete destitution some live in.

I don’t want to talk too much about it, because I think it’ll ruin it.  People say beauty in the broken, and to me this picture is beautiful–is it broken?

great team

Whenever I’m confronted with the question of what my story is in relationship to IJM, it’s usually immediately followed by how my parents are, and how my family feels about my leap of faith. And time and time again, in a robotic manner, I answer my scripted answer derived from my numerous Q&A sessions. I always let them know that I’m tremendously blessed to have such awesome, supportive parents that were willing to not only support me financially, but emotionally, mentally, and especially spiritually.

But today, the reality of it all hit a little too close at home. It actually clicked today how blessed I am, how lucky I am, how extremely fortunate I am. They have been the strongest physical pillar in my life.   I vividly remember a conversation I had with my mom before I left. We were just going for a drive (which we do on a fairly regular basis) and we had this great heart to heart. And I was so tremendously encouraged by her faith in God. I’m not a parent yet. So I cannot clearly pinpoint all the anxieties of a parent. But I imagine that for any parent, sending their child off to a foreign country is quite frightening and challenging. I imagine that it was a huge emotional struggle and battle: not wanting to let go, and having to not let it show—so that they can be a strong support for me. I imagine that there were a lot of words that they wished to say to persuade me otherwise, but they held their tongue, already knowing the doubts that I was having.  Every day they asked me what they can do to ease my preparation. They took time out of their busy schedules and placed their lives on hold so they can help me pursue mine. I imagine that I will always be my daddy’s little girl, and my mother’s precious princess.

And with all the apprehensions, they were willing and supportive of my departure because they knew that my life belonged to God and it was He who entrusted me to their care. It’s a really weird, warped thing if you think about it. But my parents placed all their faith in the Lord and sent me off in His care. I can only imagine how hard it was for them, but they endured it, and are still persevering. I think that many times, it’s easy to be selfish and think about me, how I’m feeling, how I’m doing.  But it must be so crazy hard for them. At least I have this “high” and adrenaline of being in a foreign country to keep me going. They have an empty room and a car in the garage to remind them that I’m not there.

I feel so blessed to have such wonderful parents praying for me.  When I sat there listening to my mother’s thought process in dealing with this detachment, it was so powerful. It was so enabling. It was so empowering.  And her faith in the Lord was just astounding. And it’s under their care and prayers that I am where I am today. So yeah… thanks. Love you both; You guys rock haha

During my 28 days in Uganda, God has really shown me the power of prayer. There’s too many to count, but there’s a few of these moments that I want to share with you.

From day one, He’s provided and He’s been so faithful to me.  I remember really struggling financially, wondering if I was going to be able to even get close to my set goal to go overseas. And miraculously God provided by moving a complete stranger’s heart, who emailed me asking if he could provide monthly support—uhm… yes, please?  I reread that email many times in disbelief thinking, “wow Lord, if this is a preview of the many ways that you’ll provide for me, I’m ready.”  It gave me much confidence to know that God hears my prayers and provides.

And then I arrive in Uganda. My first few days here, I was overcome with this immense feeling of complete loneliness. Despite the fact that the community here was awesome, I still felt very out of place, wondering what I was doing here, I missed home, I missed my friends, and I missed my community. I prayed, I don’t even remember what I prayed. I didn’t know how to pray, so I just prayed that I would find my comfort in Him alone and that it would be enough for me. I just thought it was God stretching me. Next day, a new girl moved into my room. She was my age, just out of undergrad and traveling to Uganda for a few weeks. I just thought, wow Lord. Wow. I just in complete shock and disbelief of how well He knew my heart. He knew that secretly, I longed for a friend that I could physically talk to and laugh with.  Praise the Lord who knows my heart.

And then fast forward a few weeks to today.  Today was the first time I’ve seen pouring rain in Uganda Today was also the day that the Uganda’s portion of the President’s Tour concluded. The second that the guests were loading up into the vans, small droplets started to fall then it poured. It was like someone upstairs had just turned on all the faucets and was letting it run. It wasn’t just cats and dogs; it was like cattle and donkeys. The last time I saw rain like that was in Dominican Republic and even then, it wasn’t as furious as the rain that I saw today. As I was looking out the window of the huge rain droplets, I was reminded of a prayer.  A few days earlier, a Volunteer Attorney had prayed for good weather during the President’s trip because the weather looked unpromising. It looked like there was going to be a down pour on Wednesday. Now this would be problematic because our guests would be doing client visits on Wednesday.  And we would have to be outside. She prayed, “Lord, I pray that it won’t rain this Wednesday and weather would be cooperative, but if it must rain, then let it rain any other day but Wednesday.” I guess it needed to rain—so it rained today and Praise God, not yesterday.

And speaking of client visits, one of our clients came to Christ yesterday. She was a Muslim woman. And yesterday, the guests had the opportunity to go to her potato field (which was also a gift from God) and pull the weeds from the field. Towards the end of our labor, she told one of our Attorneys that she had accepted Christ a few days earlier and was now born again. My colleagues and the guests were filled with so much joy it was uncontainable. We were dancing, praising, hugging, smiling, some were even crying. The amazing thing about this is that, at IJM, even though we’re a faith based organization, we don’t discriminate against religious backgrounds. But after every client visit, we ask if we can pray for them.  Usually the clients comply, even if they aren’t Christian. So we work with the philosophy of the Good Samaritan. I feel like you can talk and talk what it means to be a Christian to have a Christ like love, but it’s all nothing without action. And really, showing love—that’s so much more powerful—Christ did not preach love without displaying it as well. God loved us so much that he sent his only son for us. He didn’t just stop at “I love you my child,” but He actively sent His son to die for our sins.  And I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to hear her testimony and to worship with her, all the while standing in her potato field, against the background of pure, untouched, pastoral, Ugandan landscape.  As a colleague and I embraced each other, I just kept saying… Praise God.

Ask and you will receive. Pray with conviction. Pray with the confidence that He will answer. I’ve come to learn that the Lord hears your prayers, and He also sees your heart. You need to ask first. I mean even Jesus prayed. Even Jesus needed to talk to God and communicate with Him. But it’s not that He doesn’t know your heart (yes I know double negatives); He does know, but He just really wants you to ask. And in your prayers, pray that the Lord will align your heart with His will so that your prayers are pleasing. It’s all really just worship. Worship through prayer. Worship through praise.  Worship through joy. Worship through your life.

So those of you that don’t know, I have had the pleasure of waking up every morning to the calming morning call of my friend, the Rooster. The ever repeating cock-a-doodle-doo at5:30 am, 6:00 am, has really contributed to my morning routine.  Some mornings, when I get the pleasure of meeting my noble knight that brings me my morning call, I really want to go over and kick it.  And last night, I think I heard his execution. It was actually really sad, and unnerving–I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a horrible cry. And this morning, it was so quiet, so peaceful, but a little empty. I almost missed my buddy in the morning.. until I walked down the road and heard another rooster. I realized I was being foolish and I like my peace.

Something that I’ve noticed about Kampala is the juxtapositions of this place. Coming from the Northeast and growing up in New York, I’m accustomed to doing everything in speed. I walk fast, I eat fast, I talk fast, I do everything in speed. But here, it’s so different because people pick and choose what they want to do efficiently and promptly.  And usually, what they choose to do in haste, they really don’t have to… well shouldn’t for safety sake. For example, when driving, these people have a need for speed or something. Crazy drivers, gunning it, cutting people off to gain a centimeter, speeding down the road to incoming traffic, cutting it close by just barely. It’s like the world is going to end if they don’t get to their location under two seconds.

BUT when it comes to everything else, they take their sweet old time. Like processing documents, no I’m not in a hurry to get my work permit or anything, no go ahead, take your sweet time when you can give it to me now… no it’s okay I’ll come back next week. Or just retail or any customer service, people take their sweet, sweet time to bag the groceries or get the change, they literally just move very, very slowly. There’s absolutely no sense of urgency. So coming from a city where everything moves in speed to a place where there is no rush is very interesting (unless you’re in the mood to risk your safety. In that case, let’s not slow down on speed bumps and just go flying through them and weave on bodas through standstill traffic. Yeah sure).  It’s almost frustrating at times because I’m wondering why everything takes SO LONG. Why people walk so slowly here and every motion is just so drawn out. But when I take the time and remember to step back for a moment, I wonder why I’m rushing.

Am I like the boda drivers just aimlessly in a rush for no real reason? Why is it so imperative that I live in the speed that I’m going right now? And when I stop to just relax and look around, I see palm trees and morning glories, and children playing on the streets, fresh fruit in the market, people greeting each other with “You’re welcome,” and hugs and kisses. And in this chaos of frustration, I find this sense of peaceful relief.