I clearly remember December 31st 2013, as the clock struck over to the new year I thought to myself “This is the year I’m going to Africa”. That didn’t happen. So many other things did. Great things. Horrible things. Crazy joy. Deep sorrow.
It didn’t happen in 2014 like I’d planned but January 2015 was pretty close.
I really felt like it was something I HAD to do. It may sound silly but it was something I needed to get out of my system. I’d dreamed of it for such a long time. I’ve had the privilege of visiting many other counties and seeing so many amazingly cool things but not anywhere in Africa. A friend asked me the other day (joking, but at the same time a little serious) “So when are you moving to Uganda?”. If you know me, you’d most likely ask me the same question; expecting me to have a deep longing to live there, ready to pack up my life and move. I almost can’t believed I’m saying this but I’m really okay living in America. Like really. This is where I am meant to be. Weird right?
To be honest Uganda wasn’t what I expected. Kind of like that movie that everyone loves and talks about. You watch it with HUGE expectations and leave the cinema feeling a little disappointed. I’m not saying I didn’t love it, I did. It just wasn’t what I expected.
I’ve gone on a long journey of guilt (I always wanted to be a missionary, how did I end up in America?). To a really exciting one of gratitude. Like Uganda pushed a reset button in my life. Helped me remember some things I’d forgotten. Helped me see things with more clarity. I am incredibly grateful!
10 years to the day that I took (most of) these photographs I was standing on a beautiful beach in Australia. Not a cloud in the sky. Surrounded by people I love. Wearing an off white beaded lace dress promising to love a man for as long as I live. I love that we were able to serve in Uganda together.