And I mean that literally. So this will be an interesting blog post.
Every week I tell myself, “It’s time to get something up on that blog.” Then I think about what to say and a zillion thoughts rush through my mind. Do I write about my visit to NSSF–Uganda’s social security office? Do I write about two teenage boys coming by my house to make a music video on my computer? Or do I write about how much time it takes me to pull together some ingredients that I recognize into a meal?
Then my mind starts to move past the day-to-day to the reality I see here–the joys and the sorrows. I want to rant about injustice. I want to talk about the price of poverty–how when we stand by and chose to let poverty exist in any form, we are preventing God’s kingdom from coming. I can get pretty worked up.
Then I want to talk about Jesus. Because ultimately, I always want to talk about Jesus.
And by the time I get through all of these thoughts, it’s dark and I’m tired and I just fall into bed instead with a sigh.
So let’s just say, there is a lot swirling around in this head of mine. And today is not unique, I don’t know which to chose. I don’t know where to start and I certainly don’t know where to end.
That’s when I rely on photos to speak. Here is one of my very favorite kids in the world. Odongo Dickens. He is in our Lira program in Northern Uganda and his story is tragic. He is the most serious little man. So of course, I set out to make him giggle and feel loved every time I see him. I literally hug him to submission. He is worthy opponent and fights with all his heart against smiling for any photos, but I am far sillier than he can withstand over time. Here we capture the full battle.
See that smile? A pretty amazing victory, worth every second.
And maybe that is what all of the thoughts and words and ideas are pointing to? This is so much more than spreadsheets and budgets and theories of development. Odongo Dickens is beautifully and wonderfully made. He doesn’t have parents, or even an auntie to care for him. His older brother is doing the best he can, but he is just a boy himself—maybe 15 or 16. Odongo Dickens needs a community around him to show him that God’s love is real. He needs help with his education, healthcare, food. He needs to be adored and sometimes he needs someone to relentlessly work at making him smile. Some days that is my job and I’m so thankful for it.