Uganda Recap: Day Eleven

Our last day of ministry has finally come. Matt had a stomach bug and so he remained at the guesthouse today. He was feeling miserable when I left.

We headed out about three hours away to Mbale, a village surrounded by mountains. It was beautiful. We were greeted by a very enthusiastic village. The women of the church escorted each one of us to our seats. They had a large standing structure made out of limbs, with tarps providing shade from the sun. It was the largest church structure we had been to yet. It would soon fill up with many adults, some who came by the truckload from surrounding villages to hear the teachings.

Again, I worked with the older kids for the morning. I was definitely missing Matt for more than one reason. It's so easy to flock to the younger kids. They are cuter. They are more fun, at times. They like silly and goofy. Just like here at home. So, when the kids were split into two groups, older and younger, there were many volunteers for the younger. A few of us took the older children and soon after we started, I was left there alone with a couple of translators. Needless to say, I was frustrated. This was not how I pictured my last day. I knew that if Matt was there, he would have helped me. But, it was the way it was, and I had to choose to have a good attitude and trust that the Lord would bring me through it.

I began to tell the story of Jesus and lead the kids in their activities. Off and on, a few of my team members would come by, but it wasn't until I was on the last story about Jesus that I received help that didn't disappear. Thanks to Robyn, I had a renewed energy to play a few more games before we headed back down to the adults for lunch.

After lunch, we had a time of just hanging out with the kids. I had the chance to take many photos as they were all so excited to see what they looked like on camera. As I would take a photo of one, they would turn to their friend and say, "now this one". Snap, snap, snap.

Some of the girls on our team had a group of kids occupied dancing to some American songs. Other kids stayed glued to the sides of the bus, hoping to receive a handout. With the help of Pastor Edward, the kids received sweeties.

At the end of the day, I noticed some boys with a worn out, half deflated soccer ball. I motioned to them to play and so right there, on the dirt road, we played soccer. One of the adults came up to me and said, "You know how to play football?" "Yes!" I replied. Up and down we ran, passing the ball back and forth. If I ran one way, the group would follow. Everyone wanted to kick it to the mzungu. I've never had to worry much about where I was kicking a soccer ball, but today I had to dodge a small stream and a field where cows were grazing. I'll never forget that experience. By then, I had forgotten all about the frustrations of the morning and did not want to leave the village just yet. But, I knew it was coming. It was time to say goodbye.

Sitting on the bus, waiting for the rest of the team to show up, my heart was heavy. Heavy because this was it. Heavy because Matt wasn't here to say good-bye. Heavy because in one day, I would be leaving these people. Heavy because I didn't know if I would ever see these people again. Was I really ready to come home? Pastor Stephen and I swapped phone numbers and email addresses, and the kids stood around the bus waving to us.

That night, we had our last dinner and meeting. Each team member shared their highlight of the trip. Such a great team. Such a great trip.

I think I was finally ready to come home. Yes. Definitely ready.