Glimpses of Uganda

Within such a simple thing as a moment, many things can happen. Thoughts can change. Attitude can change. Circumstances can change. Just a mere second between one thing and another and suddenly you’re playing with a whole new deck of cards (so to speak). How does a moment hold such power? I’ve seen this recently in the many faces and attitudes of my nephew, Jaden. Being only 6 weeks old, how can he hold so many facial expressions, and not only that…what makes them change so drastically? What is this little fellow thinking that might throw him into a tizzy one minute while soothing him the next?

4:16pm

4:17pm

And of course, it gets me to thinking about my own human self (being only slightly more mature than such unpredictable impulses)…what shifts in a moment to make me go from light-hearted to fearful? From free-flowing conversation to closed off? Is it a word? A look? an unexpected encounter? All of the above, probably, and more. I am prone to total implulsivity, and it is only by the grace of God that faithfulness and consistency could actually be an outcome of my character.

At another angle, what happens in the power of a moment to revive me?… To uplift my soul in its weary state? Is it also in a word or a look? How does a mere moment correct my thinking and bring back perspective? I’ll bring in a silly personal example: While biking home from work today, I had to cross a crowded, 6 way intersection that bridges over a highway. While on the sidewalk, my tire got completely trapped in a crevice and as it stopped, my body began to lurch forward without it. As a crowd of cars at a stoplight looked on, I attempted catching myself in a series of ridiculous “near falling” lurches until finally my body (and the bike) came to a thankfully unscathed stop. I caught my breath, straightened my bike and proceeded, all the while being fully aware of the many watching eyes. Then (in a moment) I surprised even myself by creating a “finale finish.” I turned their way with a huge smile, a slight bow, and a wave, mouthing the words “Thank you! Thank you!” to all those cars. Yes, I admitted and took ownership of the entertainment I provided for them today. And in that moment, my embarrassment suddenly became my joy.

But as life continues, and I expand my understanding of myself in light of this crazy world, I realize I need the Lord to be in every moment. And it is in every moment of change that He grounds me. It is also in the unexpected moments that He brings me a joy beyond my wildest dreams. And a peace. Oh that peace.

Here are a couple more moments (in picture) that I received joy from today:

God is good.

Every once in a while, I get this itch…it comes no matter what I’m doing, whether plain old boring or adventure in Africa-like.The itch still comes. And it came the past few days, an itch to see what people are doing. What people, you might ask? Anyone, everyone, someone different.

I guess you could call it a sort of “people watching” itch. But not while shopping or dining or going to the park. More than that. What else do they do that’s beyond the norm? It’s like I need to remember what other things there are as options in life. It keeps me intrigued and contemplative even if I totally don’t see myself doing what they do. One of my coworkers asked me why when I’m getting to know customers at Starbucks I always ask what they do…I guess it’s just something inside of me that wants to know it for interest sake. I’ve been getting to know a geologist, a currency trader, a State congressman, and lots of stay-at-home moms and it’s just so fascinating to learn about their lives. What intrigues them about that job? Why are they doing it? What more is to be learned?

But today I got a little more of that interacting itch out at something called “Trade Days” in McKinney, Texas. My dad and I went just to walk around and see what people were selling, which in turn tells you what is often their passion or what motivates them. So great to see, isn’t it? We met a couple selling spicy sausages, vacuum packed. We met an old cowboy selling jalepeno gutters and skewers. We met a man passionate about smooth olive wood from Bethlehem. We met a bunch of men passionate about roasting popcorn. Or how about the ones selling signs made out of old license plates? The ideas these people come up with. It’s so entertaining. And I have no interest in doing any of those things particularly, I just like to see what others find motivating.

So here are a few pictures of our outing:

The Entrance, but it zig-zagged for about 2 miles or so.

Dad found his favorite shop! Fanny-packs…

And I found some Terra Cotta Warriors (must have traveled all the way from China to get here)

8 months ago, when I told my 95 year old Great Aunt Ruth that I worked at Starbucks, she had her own rendition of what I was trying to say…

At first, she would ask me how McDonalds was…
Then a month later, she asked me how “Steak-Burger” was…. (an upgrade, I’d say)
Then last month she had it in her mind that they weren’t promoting me because I was too tall…(she could be on to something)…
But the one thing that has now become consistent is that whenever I go to see her, I bring her “her treat” from Starbucks (she finally got the correct name down).

Last week, as I arrived to meet her for lunch, I found her in a frantic mess. She had overslept, lost one stocking, couldn’t figure out her hearing aid again, hadn’t yet “powdered her nose,” and just wasn’t sure she felt “up to eating” anyway. But that’s when the good ol’ cup of joe came in handy (Starbucks style, that is). I finally sat her down, told her everything would be just fine, and promptly ordered her to begin her favorite drink. And the rest is history, my friends…the nose was powdered, the stocking was found, and the hearing aid went in with precision…and, most importantly, a smile was back on that face, ready to meet the old ladies for lunch at the diner.

So, here she is, my Great (Starbucks loving) Aunt Ruth:

BEFORE COMPLETION

and AFTER COMPLETION (this is her sad face, by the way, because there’s no more)

And let me tell ya, this 95 year old lady has no problem downing an iced coffee in just a few quick sips. (Perhaps I should upgrade to a Venti?)

Can you identify what you think is “wrong?”

My view on what’s wrong in these pictures comes from my assumption of what’s appropriate or not. Obviously, someone somewhere behind the scenes of these photos thought it was appropriate. I did not.

So my thought of the day actually stems from the deeper question “what’s wrong with ‘the picture’ and/or my perspective when I sin?” How can I be following the straight and narrow, content with life, at peace in my mind, relationally at ease, and then suddenly jump off the band-wagon?

Well… I have an awful sin nature, yes. My heart is deceitfully wicked, yes. I was drawn away and enticed, yes. But I realized the other day after reading another commonly known verse, that the root of where I saw my sin needed to be rearranged. Hebrews 11:6 reads, “For without faith, it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.” So my sin really stems from a lack of faith. And that lack of faith pretty much comes from one of two areas: When I live life as if there is no God (a Christian or non-Christian can do this). Or, when I start to think that seeking Him is wearisome or profitless.

It may be as simple as not letting God in on one area of my life. Which alters my heart, which alters my actions, and which gives temptation easier access. It may also be when I get off my knees one day feeling the weight of frustration or possibly, boredom. Which alters my heart, which alters my actions, and it is because I have forgotten that “He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.” But ultimately, in both scenarios, the sin began when I lost faith.

Is this profound to anyone else?

Makes so much more sense also now that when David prayed a heartfelt prayer of confession for murder and adultery, he prayed, “against You and You only have I sinned.” May seem self-focused for him to pray that, unless you recognize like he did that his sin began when he walked through life choosing not to see God’s presence in it, or when he believed that his diligence in serving the Lord did not matter after all.

That is when David sinned, for he lost faith. That is when I sin, when I lose faith. And without faith it is impossible to please God.

We all need some time carved out in our lives for little victory dances, don’t you think?

As I was walking in the park yesterday, I got to witness this kind of moment:
From a distance, I see a tricyclist peddling his little heart out down the sidewalk while momma runs behind a stroller, yelling cheers and encouragement. I see his little knees going up and down in a frantic hurry while his bright orange hair wisps out from under his helmet. When he finally comes near to me, I chip in my own encouragement, but the little tyke is so busy concentrating, all I can hear him whisper under his breath is “ooohh, this is gonna be good!” as he continues peddling. Then Mom yells, “you’re almost there!” (I guess they had worked out a sort of “spot” as a goal), because this guy suddenly stops in the middle of the sidewalk, hops off his bike and starts doing a little victory dance.

I love how Jesus says about little children that “of such are the kingdom of Heaven” (Mt 19:14) because there are tons of little moments like these where I think we, as adults, have way too many hindrances. Sometimes we just need to have a goal (even if it seems like it’s in the middle of nowhere) and then do a little victory dance.

Have you ever been in the midst of a “playful banter” with someone and suddenly it is led in a direction you never would have expected? Today I felt one of those moments. And it made me wonder how weird some people’s senses of humor can be.

Here’s the scenario. Working the front register at Starbucks, see this guy (early 40′s?) come in whom I’ve seen in the drive-thru several times previously. Here’s how it goes:

Me: “Hey, how are you today?”
Guy: “Good, I came inside today because I had to use the restroom.”
Me: “Well, then it was a good idea you came in, I guess.”
Guy: “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to go in my car again like last time.”
Me: “No, that wouldn’t be a good idea…our restrooms are a good alternative, I’d say”
Guy: “Yeah, if I can make it there. Last time I left a trail all the way to it.”
Me: “Oh?”
Guy: “Yeah, I guess next time I’ll have to wear a diaper or something.”
Me: (baffled on how to respond) “yeah, I guess so…”

Now, either he is simply disgusting or he was trying to be playful and really stunk at it.

There have been several other unusual interactions, this one coming close to the top. Others include the now regular play on ordering a “tall blonde” (our new roast) and saying it with a smirk. But up at number one is still the man who felt the need to inform me that my “ass was too close to his face” when I was sweeping, because, he said, “I’m not a pervert, but there are many out there who are that would not be so kind as me.” So, thank you, mister, for calling my butt an “ass,” informing me you’re not a pervert, and teaching me how to sweep. I’ll totally listen to you now.

I suppose these weird senses of humor and disturbed minds combine for perfect disasters (but good stories to tell later).

17 hours into this, and I can already say that Tiffany is my hero.

Woke up at 4am to a little commotion in the house. It was at such an early stage that it wasn’t too painful for Tiffany. I watched and took it all in for a while, worked 8 hours at Starbucks, then drove straight to the hospital afterwards. And she’s still going through it. Except now the pain has quadrupled.

Man, it’s tough to see someone in such pain. But it’s weird to know that someone is in a type of pain that won’t kill them but it sure sounds like it will.

Other hero of the day: Josh. He’s been so great with it all.

So, until I get further news, here’s a snapshot of the wee morning hours.

And they’re at the hospital now. Come soon baby!!!

There are many days I wake up and I’m not really awake. Scary things happen on those days. I’ve had two major instances where this lack of complete consciousness turned out quite embarrassing. Incident #1 – Went to work, sat at my desk, and not until I walked to the morning meeting an hour later did I realize I had put on 2 completely different shoes…like, completely different (even in heel size). Incident #2 – put on a white collared button down shirt for work, and not until a patient of mine hollered after me, did I realize it was inside out (a collared shirt! How does one do that?)

Today, same type of incident, except, thank goodness, I was aware enough to catch it. I put on khakis that I had washed this weekend but hadn’t worn yet. They feel funny. I unbutton them again, reach down the leg, and realize there are 2 underwear clinging to the inside. I didn’t get too far down the imagination road to realize that any type of incident with this mistake would not have been a fun one.

So, here they are, back where they belong…in my closet.

My dreams have been pretty vivid (or at least memorable) these last few months, mainly about random things. Those are the kinds I like. I used to analyze my dreams a lot because my subconscious was teeming with activity (thoughts, fears, worries…), and much of it surfaced in my dreams, strangely revealing that which I had suppressed. Needless to say, I’m happy to be free to gleefully enjoy silly dreams again. But I can’t deny the powerful effect that dreams have, silly or not.

My dreams lately have included being pregnant or being in the birthing rooms (I live with my pregnant sister-in-law), having mine and my brother’s car stolen and him being “too drugged up” to care (he recently bought a new car), and my date with the (real life) hott Fed-Ex man that comes into my Starbucks (okay, so maybe that’s a suppressed desire coming out)

But last night’s dream was really out of left field. No determining what real life circumstance spurred it on. And yet it still somehow affected me. I woke up and immediately started boiling 2 eggs. I fry eggs on occasion for breakfast, but mostly stick with cereal or oatmeal. But never boil. Halfway through watching the water bubble over my eggs, I realized that my dream included talking with someone about boiling eggs. And that person, whoever it was, told me (and I quote), “one hard-boiled egg is better for you than 38 eggs made any other way.” Now, I know that’s not true. An egg’s an egg. Right? And what does the number 38 have to do with anything? Well, either way, I had it in my head that I needed to boil these eggs this morning …and, subconsciously, it felt healthier for me than it would have any other day (even with the cheese, butter and salt I added to it after mashing them in my bowl).

While my presence has been missing from this website, my thoughts about it have not…what will this become now that I’m not in Uganda?…now that my life doesn’t have as many weird things to discover, stories to tell, or random commentary to write about a photo?

Well, that was the wrong perspective because today I ran across a story of a blogger who decided to take one picture a day of something that peaked his curiosity, and write a story or even just a blurb about it. I liked that idea. I liked it so much, in fact, it surprised me. There are just way too many things in this world (whether in a foreign culture or right where I’m most familiar) that allow for further thought, peaked interest, re-discovery, etc.

And, what I really loved about this website anyways was the creativity, story telling, (un-professional) picture taking, discovering, imagining, and feedback of it all. That was the core of my enjoyment, Uganda just being a means to that realization of myself.

So, join with me or not, but I plan on attempting this new-ish theme…in many ways similar to what I was doing. But with goals, come determination… focus. And who cares what it becomes, I’m just hoping to stimulate my mind, keep a fresh set of lenses more readily available, take pictures again of things that interest me (without feeling the need to be professional), tell stories (cause I just love story-telling) and simply re-discover. I’m pretty stoked. I believe wholeheartedly that God’s world was meant to be enjoyed, laughed at, and curiously journeyed through, and that’s just what I plan on doing.