Seems a bit ugly

Two weeks since my last post. Arrived back in Uganda, had some wonderful friends pick me up at the airport and were willing to travel with me as tired and cranky as I was all the way back to Soroti that same day. Getting back in the grove and feeling like no time has passed. Was I really back in the States or did I just dream all of that?  I guess Soroti feels like home, feels normal, if I have been here two weeks already and have not had anything new or exciting to write about. But actually there are plenty of things to write about- just nothing that seems unusual any more.

• Saw a old, old man squatting in the road sharpening his machete on the asphalt.
• While running, Ronnie and I saw a dead dog being dragged down the road on the end of a rope.
• Had a meeting and was told it "starts at 8" but knew that actually means everyone leaves home to come to the office at 8 and the meeting will not likely start until after 9.
• Paid $80 (200,000/=) for a tank of fuel. Wait, I did that in the states too. But here at least I understand why I pay so much.  
• Cobras in teammates yards.

One of  Sliedrecht's Cobras

Obviously, it isn't that there aren't things to write about. I guess it is more that I'm avoiding sitting down and doing the processing that it takes to do a good post. The ugliness around me here is so obvious as I settle back in. After being out of it for a bit it is hitting me harder than before.

• A 5 month baby at church Sunday who looks like a little old lady because her HIV is very advanced.
• The kids as I walk down the street demanding that I give them something with hands out stretched.
• The dishonesty and deceit that is acceptable within the church.
• Unnecessary death and suffering because of lack of medical care, education and false beliefs.
• The filth and trash and dirt EVERYWHERE.
• The lack of care for the environment and their animals.
• The expectations that I can't meet.
• Having to say No all the time to requests for money, help, clothes, food.....

The dumpster next to my house finally got emptied, months after it had been overflowing with trash. After lifting it up to dump it, it was just set back into the mountain of trash that had come out. Even better that any more trash that people put in it will also come out because the dumpster is practically sitting on its side it has so much trash underneath.

I'm being reminded afresh this week that this is not home. Not here in Uganda but not in America either. My citizenship, where I REALLY belong, is heaven. Philippians 3:20. As long as I'm on this earth I'm a foreigner. Nothing will feel right, nothing will be as it should be until I'm really home. Where there will be no overflowing dumpsters to say the least.