I had some friends ask me to sum up Uganda in a few words, my reaction was "I can't."  I can't sum up their beautiful faces, and all 53 personalities that I grew to love. I can't describe how the joy would well up when that one special little girl giggled every time she saw me, and when I kissed that soft, chubby little forehead. I can't explain the cultural differences in a few words, what we would think unacceptable they think totally acceptable (and vice versa). I can't tell you how happy it made me every time she would stand up and take a few steps and then fall down laughing and refuse to try again.  I can't remember how many times we took boda-boda all over town, because for the most part that was our only transportation and tell of all the close calls.  I can't sum up the joy in the time we went to the village and we were mobbed by children who wanted a simple bracelet, all of them shouting "Mzungu me! Mzungu meeee!", we were exhausted by the time we finished but their smiles were worth it.  I can't tell how many times the boys made me laugh, or how many times my hair was braided, or how much I enjoyed the flowers they picked just for me. I can't explain why I had a love-hate relationship with the rain. I can't tell you when I learned to be thankful for power outages because that meant more time to focus on new friends and play crazy card games by a kerosene lamp. I can't sum up how it felt to wake up in the morning and hear your name being chanted by little voices downstairs, or how if the sun didn't wake you up by 6:45, the crying babies or singing children downstairs were bound to.  I can't tell you how it breaks your heart to say goodbye to 53 children and new friends and hope you will see them again, but know a few of them may not be there when you return.  But you know Jesus loves them more and you get into the car and you drive 3 hours, and then you hold back the tears as you take off and Uganda grows smaller and smaller and you hope you'll be back soon.  I cannot put Uganda into a few words, because it's so, so, so, much more than that.  And I want to be back there. Desperately.  I pray to God that He will take me back there soon, not because I am ungrateful with life here, not because I don't love the use of electricity every single day, or the fact that cars typically drive on their sides of the roads, there isn't any holes in the middle of the streets and we don't do our laundry by hand ... I am thankful that I have the luxury of that... but Africa means more than all of that. It fills me with purpose. It seems to beckon me to it's challenges.  I'm not a daring girl, I'm not one to seek out adventure, but I do love a good challenge. I love being able to say that was hard, but oh, worth it.  Sometimes life in America is too much for me, and those 6 weeks in Africa were so refreshing.  It was the beginning of a new phase in my life and I know it.  My heart longs for a place, but now I know where. I know who.  I can recite the 53 names to you, and you wouldn't know them... but you'd know that I love them very much.  I could tell you story upon story and you may not listen to my words but you would be able to hear the joy, because I'm in love. And I'm yearning to go back. To wrap my arms around those children and kiss their chubby cheeks, and for a moment I would feel as though I were in heaven and nothing else would matter.

I want to go back to Uganda.