The Ministry of Presence

This past weekend there was fire in the house of Maama Joyce’s niece. Everything in Irene’s room was destroyed – her bed, mattress, bedding, clothes, photographs, and her woven mats which she makes for a living.

That night I was able to experience the Ugandan way of supporting one another – it is truly the ministry of presence. All of us went down to be with Irene, Kato, and Bebidie as soon as we heard about the fire. There were already many neighbors and family members gathered there. Maama Joyce gave them some advice and showered them with her love. She led us in songs of both thanksgiving and of mourning to God; then she prayed for Irene and her family.

I had goose bumps witnessing it. I truly felt as if I was on holy ground.

Looking around the room where we were sitting, there was such support and love for this family. Neighbors had gathered to offer all that they had – their presence, and it was more than enough; it was powerful. Even when there were no words to say, people sat together in silence simply sharing the same space in order to show their support and to feel what Irene was feeling. Although this event was very tragic, I felt so honored to witness that time. The support for one another in Uganda is overwhelming.

In the West we have moved away from giving ourselves to each other, we merely give things. When someone is ill we send them flowers and a card, if it is a family member’s birthday often people will send money… why have we moved away from giving ourselves and our presence? We always ask what we can do – I have observed this tendency in so many Westerners – but especially in myself. I love it when I come home and Eve or Maama Joyce has something that I can do to “help”. I feel so good when I wash the dishes in the morning before class, but perhaps there is something even more valuable than the act of washing dishes, perhaps I need to be aware of the manner in which I do them. We can get so caught up with doing, that in turn, we lose sight of how to do so appropriately.

The Western mindset is task-oriented. We make lists and goals and we check them off feeling accomplished. We become so driven by productivity that we overlook the immense value of meeting with people.

In sitting with Maama Joyce and Irene on Sunday night I was so struck by the idea that the most powerful thing we can give to one another is our presence. We are not called to “fix” the problems which people face – we are merely called to be present with them through their darkest personal hells.

We have a profound need for a paradigm shift – from doing to being. We need to learn the ministry of presence, to lament, rejoice, and to shoulder one another’s the burdens alongside each other. Similarly we need to enter humbly into other cultures, be present with them, feel what they feel, and have a mutual exchange of joy and learning. Maama Joyce has been teaching me the first steps of this and it has been such a gift to receive.

The Catch-Up

Friends, I apologize greatly for how little I have posted thus far. It has been a busy few weeks of settling into the rhythm of life here in Uganda along with the start of school. It has been a whirlwind, but a good one. We got back from Rwanda the night before classes started, and since then I have been trying to understand my scattered thoughts from Rwanda. The trip was such a mixture of immense pain and incredible hope. This weekend I realized that it was a futile effort to try and communicate all that I was thinking from Rwanda – I’m sure I will spend much of my life sorting it out. So, rather than describe to you all that has happened in the past few weeks I will try to communicate to you how I am here – now – where I am.

I have been here about a month now and things are finally starting to settle into a rhythm. I love living with the women that I do. This house is full of laughter, every night without fail we have some moment of hysterics, whether it is over the killing of a cockroach, some mishap with me in the kitchen, or the soap opera of the night, it is always present.

Maama Joyce is as sweet as ever. She is a jokester and a sweetheart all in one. She also has wisdom straight from the Lord's heart - I admire and love this woman.

Joanna, my older sister, is a gentle spirit. For the most part she is quiet - but sometimes she is as sassy as can be and she makes us all laugh uncontrollably.

Sarah is another sister who has come to live with us in the past two weeks. She is Mamma Joyce's grand-niece, but her grandfather (Maama's J's brother) passed away a few years ago, so Maama Joyce took Sarah as her own granddaughter, and loves her as her own daughter. Sarah is so great. She is the girl that I spend most of my time with, exploring Mukono, going to the market, and joking around with.

And then there is lovely Eve. Eve is our house helper, but I consider her a sister. She has been a very dedicated Luganda teacher – she works so patiently with me and laughs with me over the silly pronunciations that I come up with in trying to say what she says so beautifully. I spend many evenings in the outdoor kitchen with Eve, sitting on the stool next to her, marveling at how she cooks. I also have Eve to thank for teaching me the art in killing cockroaches (learn from my mistake, you should not squash a cockroach – they smell awful when you do, and the stench lingers all throughout dinner). Often when I come home from school, Eve is the only one home because Sarah is still at school, Joanna is working at the shop, and Maama Joyce is out visiting the neighbors. Because of this I have come to know Eve very well, her English is somewhat limited and my Luganda is nothing to speak of, but our conversations are always filled with laughter and sincerity.

Here in Uganda, when someone is a guest in a house a way to honor them is to serve them a very large portion of food. Likewise, the respect is returned by eating all that you have been served and by going back for seconds... needless to say I have been eating A LOT. You have heard the saying "go big or go home" but here it seems appropriate to translate that as "go home BIG" :)

The first Saturday I was home I spent all day cooking and washing clothes alongside Eve. Time passed in a strange way, I really only did three things that day – cooked lunch, washed my clothes, and cooked dinner… I am not accustomed to meals taking all day to prepare and clean up from. There was so much joy in merely sitting next to Eve on the stool and peeling potatoes and matoke. I enjoyed it so much because was able to join in and be part of the beautiful process called life.

I have been learning that I must re-learn everything I know about daily living – my way of doing things at home is worthless here. Cooking, washing, bathing, cleaning dishes, even the simplicity in cooking potatoes – it is all a new process. That day especially, made me realize that most of my knowledge is head-based knowledge rather than experiential. Eve had to show me everything that day. As I helped rinse the dishes Eve looked at me and said, “Eh, wash properly,” and I was then showed how to properly rinse dishes. As I said, my way of doing things from home don’t fit here.

Life in Uganda is filled with seemingly sacred rituals – peeling matoke, sitting in silence together, stirring posho, lighting the charcoal fire. They each have a specific way to be done, I love that it is such a process. The rhythm of life feels right.

Another big lesson that living in Uganda has taught me is the incredible meaning of 'family'. Here, family is the most important thing - more than financial stability, more than education, more than any other relationship - your family is your family.

I love understanding family through the eyes and life of Maama Joyce. She has eight biological children, yet she has twenty-seven other sons and daughters. The first few weeks I was so confused because I had already met seven of the eight biological children, but then at church I would be introduced to people who were other brothers and sisters. Maama Joyce had 18 siblings in her family, and slowly as they have passed away, she has taken their children and grandchildren as her own children. One day I asked her how she was specifically related to one of her 'children', her reply was in laughter but plain and simple "he is my son". There is no need to label who someone specifically is, they are family. In reflecting on that, I thought how ironic it is in the U.S. that we label exactly who people are - for instance, 'my second-cousin-once removed' ...? It seems to lessen the distance between people if we are to simply call them what they are, our family members. What does it imply about our relationships that we use the label of 'distant relatives'? Does that do more harm than help? Here in Maama Joyce’s family, every one of your relatives is family and they are loved, visited, and treated as such.

Relationships are valued so highly here. Visitor are always welcomed, greeting people warmly is a way to bless others, and people will put everything on hold in order to spend time with someone who they haven’t seen for a while. I see so much of God’s heart in these people. Our God is relational at the core of God’s-own-being, and Ugandans reflect that so well.

I have much to learn.