You are Good to Me

The long-awaited P5 stick hockey rematch

So I have now been in Uganda for more than two months. I am entering the homestretch, but there is still much to do and discover. It seems the Lord is not done with me yet. Last time, I posted some glory stories.

Well, sometimes consolations help to prepare you for desolations… J

This weekend, there was something I was looking forward to very much, something I thought would be a great opportunity. Instead, it was bittersweet. In fact, I cried myself to sleep. Then I awoke before my alarm, still dispirited, and instead of dwelling on the hurt, I began to softly sing:

You are good to me, good to me.
You are good to me, good to me.
You are good to me.

The song was written by Audrey Assad, during a time when her husband had been recently diagnosed with cancer. In other words, it is a song praising God’s goodness and faithfulness in trial and pain.

It was raining this morning so, rather than going to daily Mass, I made my holy hour at home. I cried and I prayed, and I told God why I was angry with Him, and it was good…but it was not over. Even at school, I had to slip away one time (to the latrine, of all places!) and allow myself to cry and tell the Lord how I felt. And He helped me to accept that this has nothing to do with the person who I feel hurt by or angry at, but everything to do with the fact that this is all in God’s plan. And He is good to me.

There is nothing that cheers me like a child. When I come to school sad because I am missing friends or there is some pain in my heart, they bid me to forget it. I find them giggling and smiling and trying to poke me. They look at me with their bright little faces and want me to teach them something new. We had our hockey rematch with the P5 class today, and as promised, I captured some video footage. As well, one of the P7 students came to me after school and said, “Auntie, you are the one to give us homework today.” What? Let me get this straight: you WANT homework??? Okay, let it be done. As I wrote their English homework on the board, they spoke Luganda to me and asked me to speak American English to them. When I returned to Paul and Mary’s house after school, their three year old son was there wanting to play and be tickled, and he was screaming and having a great time. The Lord brings joy even in times of pain, especially when we are willing to still give of ourselves in those times.

So, if there are more tears, let them come. God’s timing is perfect, and with only three weeks left in here in Uganda, He has allowed my heart to be pierced so the graces can continue to flow for this mission. He often saves the best for last. Sometimes we don’t view the Cross as something good, but without the Cross there is no Resurrection. Without suffering there is no glory.

Sometimes desolations help us to appreciate, to receive humbly, the consolations.

“Lord, give us joy to balance our affliction.”
- Ps. 90:15 -

“You have turned our mourning into dancing.”
- Ps. 30: 12 -

Lord, you are good to me, good to me.

Glory Stories

There have been a lot of beautiful moments in the past week, so today I just want to share some “glory stories.”

Firstly, I thank you all for your continued prayers. If you were not aware, there was a Mass offered for you (my benefactors, supporters and prayer partners) and your intentions last Thursday morning at the parish here in Bisanje. I am very grateful. On Friday, I gave a series of four talks on intercession to the members of Holy Trinity Community, a Catholic Charismatic Covenant Community where I usually stay three nights a week. The topic of the talks was intercession: What is Intercession?, Why do we Intercede?, Who is Called to Intercede?, and Hearing God’s Voice. About 9 people were present, those who live at the community and a few others. It was perfect for me because I love small groups and it allowed us to have a more intimate discussion rather than feeling like I was preaching to them. We also had the opportunity to do an intercessory meditation and pray a decade of the rosary together. I found out after the fact that 4 or 5 of the people who attended were leaders of intercession teams in Masaka. But they told me the ideas I presented were new to them and they were very grateful. As well, there were a few times they asked me challenging questions about discernment or prayer and I was at a loss for words. So I prayed silently, “Holy Spirit, what do you want me to say?” And by God’s grace, I was able to offer them an answer. Your intercession carried me and helped me tremendously, so thank you!

In the Life Teen office, learning to play paper football

On Sunday morning, I wanted to make it to 7am Mass at Kitovu (where we meet for Lifeteen), but it was impossible because this required me to leave at 6:30am and it was pouring down rain. Welcome to rainy season! At 9am, some of our teens/core members here were going to Skype with some of the teens/core members from our sister Life Teen program at St. Tim’s in Arizona, so it was essential that I made it Kitovu on time, and with a computer that was still functioning! Therefore, I decided to go to 7am Mass nearby and then take a motorcycle taxi afterward. Here in Uganda, after-Mass announcements usually take about 20-30 minutes, so by 8:35am I was squirming in my seat and begging God for patience and trust, saying to myself, “You’ll be fine. You will make it.” After Mass, I practically ran out of the church and down the street, hailed the first boda-boda driver I saw, and we made it to Kitovu just as their 7am Mass was finishing. I found Moses and we went with 2 other CORE members and 2 of the teens to the Life Teen office, to call the teens in Arizona, who were on retreat this weekend and had just finished their late night Adoration. We were 15 late for the meeting, but praise God, we had an excellent internet connection, and everyone enjoyed seeing each other’s faces and asking some questions and just shooting the breeze. God is faithful!

P.E. with the P.3 class

Finally, the rain let up a bit today, which was wonderful since I am the P.E. teacher at school. When it is raining, P.E. is either cancelled or we have to find some fun thing to do inside the classroom to give them a break from their studies. But today, armed with some fun group game ideas I got from the internet, I gathered my P.5 class (5^th grade?) and took them into the courtyard. I proceeded to write the word “hockey” in the dirt and explain the game. Then, we began with a wadded-up piece of paper and some large sticks from the trees, and we went to town! After some time, the piece of paper had had enough, so I handed them a passion fruit instead, and said, “Go!” Some of the boys were dissatisfied with the passion fruit puck (which eventually was turned into passion fruit juice), so they began pulling some trash and banana fibers from the trash pile and putting them together to make a small ball (this is commonly how kids make balls to play soccer). But, even that ball was destroyed by their heavy beating, and they finally settled on an old plastic bottle to be their puck. It was hilarious to watch and the whole time I wished I had my camera. They were chasing each other around the school yard laughing and laughing. The girls were beating the boys 5-0 when the lunch bell rang, so the boys insisted that they switch goals (because we all know it must have been the direction that was the result of their success, not the fact that they were actually more talented ;) ). The boys did, in fact, manage to score one goal, and then I sent them to lunch, with the girls chanting, “We are the winners! We are the winners!” I am sure there will be a rematch in the near future.

This weekend we are putting on a retreat for the parents of the students. The topic: trusting in God in our daily lives. Please keep this in your prayers, and know that I am praying for you!

Part of the Family

Dragonflies over Lake Victoria

This past weekend, I had a mini-vacation. I traveled to Kalangala, the largest of the Ssese Islands in Lake Victoria. The woman I stay with, Betty, had invited me to come for a family gathering there, as it is the village where she grew up. Every year they gather to remember and pray for the soul of her mother, who passed away in early March several years ago. She tries also to plan the event on March 8^th, which is a special day in Uganda, as it is the Woman’s Day, a national holiday in which the achievements and advancements of women in Ugandan society are celebrated. It is a beautiful tradition.

In the culture here, when someone’s mother dies, another in the family steps into the role and is called mother. So Betty introduced me to her “mother” and immediately, I was confused. (Aren’t we celebrating a Mass for your mother’s soul?) As well, people oftentimes call their cousins and other relatives “brothers” and “sisters.” So I was told, “This one is my brother,” and I was thinking, “How many brothers do you have?!” No matter. I am pretty sure everyone on the island is related to each other somehow. The man we traveled with was the half-brother of Teo, the young girl that lives with us in Kalisizo. We also met his full-brother and another half-brother of his. As we passed a home, Betty announced, “That is where so-and-so’s mother lives.” Then we would stop somewhere and she would say, “There is a relative here I want to greet.” When we were waiting for the ferry to come, a man walked past and she said, “That is the son of the woman whose house we have just visited.” I gave up trying to understand the family tree.

Before we had Mass at Betty’s home, we had some time to introduce ourselves to the rest of the family, to state who we were and how we were related. So, as Betty’s daughter was not present at the event, I stood up and said, “My name is Nakato Lindsay and I am Betty’s daughter from the USA.” They were happy to receive me into the family. In fact, they told me that I should stay in Kalangala and raise my family there. I replied that I had no husband. At that, they offered me a piece of land if I would marry one of their sons. Hmm….a piece of land in Kalangala…. ; )

Some of my Kalangala family: Grace, Betty, Sandra, Jejje (grama) and Richard (from left to right)

A week or so ago, Betty and Teo and I were saying evening prayers together after dinner and Betty began by singing, “This is the day ”. Then she added another verse:
This is the fam’ly,
This is the fam’ly that the Lord has made
Let us rejoice,
Let us rejoice and be glad in it

Praise God! I had to smile and reflect on that for a moment. Teo is not Betty’s daughter; she is her neice. And me? I am just some American missionary who ended up at the house. Why is it that we are living under the same roof? What kind of strange series of events has brought us together? It is the Lord, and His Providence, His plan. Now, I have a large extended family in Uganda. My brothers from another mother. And it is all due to the amazing plan of God, who has gathered us together from every village and every corner of the earth to meet each other and know each other at this particular time in history.

The family of God is a great mystery. I have brothers and sisters I have never even met, hidden in towns and cities and villages all across the world, related to me by the Blood of Christ, adopted and grafted onto God’s family tree because of the sacrifice of Our Lord on the Cross. This is the family that the Lord has made. What a strange, yet beautiful family. Let us rejoice and be glad in it!

An addendum: Thank you so much for your prayers for Sr. Regina’s recovery. She is back at the convent now and continuing her healing at home. She is doing well and moving around much more easily. 

Maasa Awo!

A Ugandan taxi

In this part of Uganda, the main languages spoken are English and Luganda. English is taught in all the schools, but among those in the villages or those with less education, Luganda is the language of choice. I am trying to learn some bits and pieces but it is difficult for me because it is not like anything else I know. My background in Spanish is of no use to me here.

Let me give you a taste (spelling may not be 100% accurate):

Good morning, madam – Wasuze otya, Nnyabo
Good afternoon, sir – Osibya otya, Ssebo
How are you? – Olyotya?
Fine – Jyendi
Good/well - Bulungi
Well done – Jebale (ko)
God bless you – Mukama akuhe mukisa
Thank you – Webale
What is it called? – Ogamba ki?
What are you doing? -  Okola ki?

Simple, right? That’s what everyone tells me.

Nonetheless, I have made some rather embarrassing mistakes in my efforts to learn some Luganda. On a minor scale, for a few days I was greeting people by saying, “Wasuze bulungi,” which I suppose would have the effect of saying, “Good morning, I’m well.” I don’t care how you are, but I just want you to know I’m doing fine.

Then, the other day, I wanted to clarify the phrase for “What is it called?” and I said, “Osamba ki?” which, instead, means, “What are you kicking?” Um…..

By far, the fan favorite here seems to be my misuse of the phrase “Masa owu.” Those who know this story love to retell it or remind me of it, much to my chagrin. See, my goal was to learn some words and phrases that would help me to get a taxi or boda boda. So, I learned some numbers (good for bargaining for prices) and the phrase “Drive slowly” (Vuga mpola mpola) as well as phrases that might help me tell the driver when to stop. Evidently, this phrase “maasa awo” means something along the lines of “there, up ahead”, which is useful if you see the place coming and you want the driver to slow down and let you off. However, I erroneously believed that the phrase was translated as “right there,” and it was the only good phrase (I thought) that I had in my Luganda vocabulary. So, one day, I was traveling by taxi (15-passenger van) from Kalisizo to Bisanje (How many kilometers? I don’t know. About a 15 min. ride). The taxi was going on to Kampala, but I had told the conductor that I needed to stop in Bisanje. I knew he didn’t understand me, so I was watching carefully for the place where I needed to get off. We were going very fast, so by the time I had spotted the place, we had already past it. Pointing backwards, I said to him, “Bisanje, maasa awo!” He was understandably confused and did not know what to do, since I was pointing behind and saying “up ahead.” Finally, I just shouted, “STOP!” I got out and walked back to my destination. (This all happened in a full taxi, mind you.)

As Providence would have it, the next week when I was traveling to Bisanje, it was the exact same conductor and driver who took me there (of all the hundreds of taxi drivers in the country). This time, I didn’t have to say anything. He just looked at me and said, “Bisanje?” and he stopped at exactly the right place.

I guess, sometimes, it’s not so much about the destination, but the journey. Sometimes. In this case, I am just glad I made it to Bisanje.

On a related note, I am asking for prayers for my friend, Sr. Regina. You may remember that I mentioned her in a previous post (Derek and I spent a day traveling around with her bringing Holy Communion to homebound members of the community). Last week, Sister was standing on the side of the road in front of her convent, waiting for a taxi to bring her to town, when two cars collided in front of her. Trying to avoid the collision, one of the cars hit her. She is now in the hospital with a broken rib. My friend, Cashmail, and I visited her on Sunday, and she is doing well, considering. She has some stitches but no significant head injuries, which she counts as a great blessing. Also, she has a good appetite, which is always a great sign. Still, she is suffering much from chest pains because of the broken rib, so if you can please pray for a quick and full recovery for her, I am sure she would greatly appreciate it…..and so would I!

As always, thank you for your prayerful support. Please know that I am praying for all of you and your intentions. If there is anything specific you would like me to pray for, please let me know. J