Team Five Morris

For those who have experieced traffic in Kampala or similar emerging 3rd world cities help those who don't have a clue.  The driving here is sport.  It's eyes on the road, looking everywere for everything all at once.  It's intense, scary and at times blood boiling.  I've become a skilled traffic surgeon, even with my bulky 4x4.  Why would it be any differant on a motorcycle.  Well it is.  Let me first set the stage, I'm wearing blue jeans, my engineer boots a button up shortsleeve shirt and my super cool bad-boy sunglasses.  I'm hangin' out with Joel across the street from my house while he finishes his cup of milk, thats right milk.  My neighbor pulls up on his Honda Magna (kinda a big bike, especially for Kampala).  I had been eye-balling this machine for a few weeks now and I began to move my lips to Joel about how I used to have a similar bike back home when I was younger.  Before the words were out of my mouth he hollers at the guy to let me ride his bike, to which he excitedly agrees.  So, me being the good missionary that I want to be accepts the invitation from the guy and hops on.  It was nice, and it could really move.  In about a one mile stretch I about splattered on someones bumper 4 times.  The rules had changed drastically.  Like, bikes don't get any room, no consideration and I think most consider them a target to hit.  It was a bit frightening but I just kept saying to myself, "your reformed, your reformed" and sped wildly down the center of traffic until I arrived safely back at home.  The boda's on the corner got a real kick out of watching this and I think I've got some street creds now.  That is until I shout to the owner of the bike, "Webale Kafumba" which is "thank you for the food".  As soon as I said it I knew I had just undone everything.  He was gracious and gave me a little hi sign matched with the standard head nod.  And I went home and ate rice and beans and forgot to tell my wife about the whole think.

 A little paint, some screens on the windows and we're cookin' rice and beans for dinner.  Got all the furniture and appliances we need and now are in the process of making it home regardless of the lack of hot water.  We are living 200yrds from what those who live in Kampala call "the" slums of Kampala.  It's the Kabalagala area, Wabigalo Kisugu district off eighth street, Ssali Stage were we live (yes you have to say most of that to tell people were you live) You can find it on google maps/google earth.  It's been a super busy week moving in and getting things for the house while attending an Acts 29 church planters conference.  Joel and I had the privilege of meeting with the pastors for dinner at my place. These guys are awesome, real guys who really love Jesus and His people. The conference was awesome, even though some were put off by their biblical approach. Things like male eldership only, plurality of elders, Jesus as the senior pastor, mercy and justice were just a few points they had to wrestle with. They were timeless messages that were great for these people to hear. Some of these teaching were heard by some for the very first time, said Pastor Joel. Considering most of their theological training is done either by going to other crusades or by TV preachers of which they just copy how and what they say. Loring enjoyed the opportunity to entertain guests who also happen to be our first official American visitors. Who will be next??

Loring and I aren't as freaked out, scared and swirling with doubt as we were in the beginning. (as if we've been here for months) I did find out that some of my habits and personality actually fit directly into this culture.

 

We've finally wrapped up the four month intensive boot camp where you tend to gain not only biblical knowledge but also a spare tire around the middle. (Thanks to Maggie our wonderful cook!) We've come home to Kalispell and have had a warm welcome from our home church. I've never had so many people say they are praying for us. It was humbling and impressive at the same time. I so appreciate the ownership that Easthaven's people are taking in this mission effort. I hope and pray they realize that by holding the rope they become co-laborers with us in Uganda. It has been pretty awesome so far and has helped in the with-drawls of missing our missionary friends. It makes me realize...

 

I'm not sure what is happening to me. It's very concerning to me to experience the woes of emotion. The older I get the harder it becomes to hold back the tears. It's like this, chick flicks, inspiring stories, my kids sometimes etc. This has gone on long enough. If this gets out I will loose all my “street credz.” It must be a Jesus thing. All the unexplainable life changes that happen to me can only be expressed with "affections for Jesus" or somthing like that. It's probably my flesh but I really get angry when I cry. It is the least manly thing ,besides cowardice, that I can think of. And even now, no one must know the events that transpired here..........