It’s 7:30 in the morning here, Eastern Standard Time. My fingers automatically begin to move on my lap the way they have done for the past week or so every time I check the clock. (Yes, I still count on my fingers.)
Count up to eight. Eight-thirty, nine-thirty, ten-thirty . . . three-thirty. It’s 3:30 pm in Kampala. Tomorrow, we begin the long trip, passing the sun as it sets in the west only to greet it again when it rises over Uganda.
Here’s something dumb about me: I’ve never liked telling people how to pray or what to pray for. It makes me uncomfortable, probably for stupid reasons, one of them being I believe your conversation with God is personal and intimate and if he would have you pray for me, well then he’ll need to let you know.
I don’t feel that way when others ask me to pray for them, but when people ask how they can pray for me, I get twisty. It’s not rational, I know.
I am a mess.
But here’s the thing: we would appreciate your prayers for this trip.
To get us to Uganda, yes.
But more, the reason I agreed to get on a plane across the world again was because I believe in the work Compassion is doing on behalf of children living in poverty and I want to help get kids sponsored.
I will write what I see, but I am fully and completely and humbly aware of the simple fact that what I see may not be exactly what is. It will all be seen through the filter of my own culture, experience, and privilege, but I’m asking you to follow along with me anyway.
The truth is, we will be walking the carpeted floors of airplanes and airports nearly the same amount of time as we will be walking on the dusty clay of Uganda. Our time in the country is unfortunately short.
But I ask you to follow along with us anyway.
And on a ridiculous note, I will be traveling with my sister. That isn’t ridiculous by itself, it’s fantastic.
But the ridiculous part is that when we are together, we get sisterly. Laughy. Jokey. Idiotic. Just ask Tsh. Or any person who has ever traveled with the pair of us. My kids tell me I have a laugh that only comes out around her. They always know when she’s the one on the other end of the phone based on my voice. For us, it’s a great gift to have each other. For others, I’m not sure gift is the word they would use.
I feel like I need to issue an official warning to our fellow travelers: I’m sorry. Laughter and snorting might manifest itself at awkward or inappropriate times, causing me to do something personally embarrassing or worse, culturally offensive (dear God, please no, anything but that).
And I also ask for grace.
Would you be willing to forgive us our inability to fully express and always accurately interpret what we see?
Would you come along by reading with an open heart? Would you pray for us even though I’m not even sure how to ask that without feeling weird?
Most importantly, would you consider sponsoring a child in Uganda? You can click here to see some who are still waiting.
Our posts begin on Monday. If we can get an internet connection. That could be another thing to pray for. You know, if you want. Whatever. I’m not the boss of you.
I have problems.
Here are some ways for you to follow our trip:
If you want to keep up with all of my posts while we’re in Uganda, simply continue reading the blog as you normally do.
If you would like to read what everyone else is writing, too (yes! do!) simply visit this page where all the posts that Myquillyn, Jeff, Joy, Brianne, Shaun, Wess, and I write will be gathered in one spot for easy reading.
On that same page you will also be able to watch to see how many children are sponsored daily – with a goal of 400. Here’s how it looks today.