HAPPY NEW YEAR

2011- A Year In Review, Summed Up In Words

*For those that would prefer pictures, I uploaded a 2011 in Pictorial Review onto my Facebook account and each picture has a caption that helps tell the story. You can view it here: 2011 In Pictorial Review. You need to be a friend of mine on Facebook to view the album - just message me a friend request if you would like to see it.

2011. A year of searching the unknown, seeing sometimes and often blindly banging around, trusting in God, stepping forward not knowing the outcome, and feeling blessed more often than not. Summed up by relationships, gifts given repeatedly in the form of friendship.

I left Mundri, Sudan in early January, not knowing when I would see my Sudanese friends next, for the referendum was fast approaching, determining these people’s fate. Would the area in the south separate, or would unity win out? A crossroads in history of a place characterized by the familiarity of war.  I left knowing that God was in control, but the uncertainty of it all was unnerving. I said goodbye and boarded the small Mission Aviation Fellowship plane, teammates and limited luggage in tow.

Off to Bundibugyo (BGO) I did go.

I was not sure what I would be doing in Uganda, or how the small team would receive me there. I arrived on a dark day in BGO history, as major changes had come that way. The now former headmaster was being let go and the stress was high for the team leaders that day. But in God’s usual and unique way, he affirmed that I was there for a reason and a purpose, if nothing less than moral support for a friend.

As changes ensued at Christ School and beyond, I found familiarity in my old broken down house and my welcoming Ugandan friends. I started working again at Nyahuka Health Center, a place I had been numerous times before, but this time found it was in dismal state. The pediatric ward storage room had not been opened in a very long time, and mess and outdated drugs and spider webs and dust had made it their home. I committed to see the patients and invest in the staff, and slowly but consistently a rhythm developed for me.

In my time away from medicine, I invested heavily in local kids and young guys. This is something the Lord has gifted me in, or probably more so he has allowed me to find delight in. I also started making home improvements, a Bob Villa wanna-be of sorts, as I and Ugandan friends whacked down gigantic bushes and overwhelming weeds, as we cultivated long-forgotten plots, painted the shutters blue, and spread manure over everything in hopes of growing many things new.

I had coffee house gatherings, and mid-afternoon smoothie treats for RMS teachers and parents passing my way.  I invited friends to perform guitar ballads and Ugandan musical forays. I had Saturday cooking classes and fellowship meals, where dear friends came weekly and brought their laughter along. Some friends came from far, some from near, and in the end I was so glad to have them all there. My pseudo-family care.

As the house and health center subtly transformed, I suppose I did in some ways as well.  I had many questions about my future, and what to do, in the short-term here and now and probably much later too. God laid many of these worries aside, and said ‘follow me, I make all things new.’ And he does, I have seen it true.

The referendum vote in Sudan went remarkably well. Throughout that uncertain time, and for the duration of my stay away, I continued to text and make numerous phone calls every week to friends in Sudan – they telling me of the latest news and affirming my faith in man, friendship, and bonds not easily broken.

I decided that in April I would venture back to Sudan, though my American teammates would not be back for a few months still. They had all headed to America for various reasons, so if I went back to Mundri, I would be ‘team-less’ for some duration. No problem, I said, these great teammates of mine would all return someday soon. And this would give me the chance to invest heavily in Sudanese with no pressures or commitments pulling on my time. So I said goodbye to Bundibugyo, for the umpteenth time, as somehow I always find my way back to that place and no doubt always will no matter the case.

I boarded the MAF plane on my voyage back ‘home’, and was met with great chorus by Sudanese friends. I walked into the local market that day, and spontaneous claps and cheers were offered my way. Many hugs and happy reunions ensued, and I knew that this place had become my home in that subtle, day-to-day, often unseen way. I missed the river, the consistent sun, and the unlikely beauty of that place, even if dry season was still firmly cemented, as was definitely the case.

In those initial days and weeks back in Mundri, I invested heavily in people and language and culture. I spent many nights, and numerous days staying with friends and their families, hearing stories from my time away, hearing about predictions of what would happen in that place, and seeing the excitement on each and every face – knowing that they would have their own country soon, South Sudan was coming and the reality of it was near.  So henceforth came several nights and even weeks of eating leena and greens, telling stories around fires, and sleeping in other people’s homes – a rich time of relationship building and closing in on in that oh-so-often elusive feeling of deep, enriching community.

The rainy season was very delayed, as we all eagerly waited to start the digging and planting. Talks of witchcraft and powerful snakes and mysterious men ensued, as people seriously began to question why the rain still had not come. Fears of drought and hunger were becoming the norm, and in a much unusual in American-sense-kind-of-way, but probably quite common in African lore, a sacrifice of a black goat was made to the man who claimed to stop the rains, and sure enough, on that very day the heavenly skies opened up and torrential downpours ensued. I’m still thinking about what that all means and what my response as a Christian should be. Spiritual warfare is an often forgotten part of humanity in American living, though it makes it no less real. In my experience, Africans have a much better pulse for things we sometimes passively dismiss because we can’t visibly see or feel.

When the dry season disappeared with each drop of rain, I busily helped my friends clear the land, all digging done by hand. Lifting the hoe, each time in a methodical sway, chopping a small piece of earth in an effort to make way, a budging little seed to be planted and buried there, in hope that time and more rain would lead to a bountiful crop. I had many blisters, and sore muscles, and tired bones during those all day digging sessions, but I loved it. Conversations and laughter filled the air as many friends dug side by side, meals of hot leena and greens consumed while resting on the ground below, with the much-looked-forward-to morning tea brake, and seeing the fruitfulness and productivity of my own hands. (I already look forward to more of the same in 2012!) With crops of groundnuts and maize, pumpkin, and later sorghum too, it was a delight to watch new life spring forth in Mundri.

I had my own little experimental garden, with black beans, and tomatoes, and watermelon, cabbage and lettuce, and spices galore. For me it was something I enjoyed and liked to do, rather than a necessity that ensured that my family had food, as was the case for most Sudanese friends and neighbors alike.

The probable highlight for all, my teammates, friends, and neighbors alike came on 9th July - the inaugural Independence Day for South Sudan. Hip gyrating, drums clamoring, horns blowing, costumes in multi-color, never before I have I seen such celebration of humanity, all tribes gathered together and united as one. A picture of Heaven, at least for a day.

In the fall I traveled to Kenya for a World Harvest Mission retreat on the coast. I returned to Mundri in late August, with some new ideas on my mind. For several weeks and probably months, I had been thinking of some ways to get more involved in the community and provide some meaningful events for Mundri town friends, youth, and medical staff. With some gentle prodding by God, as is often the case, he encouraged me to put my ideas into action, and so began three very meaningful and rewarding things in my life, most definitely highlights of the year.

I, along with some Sudanese youth, started the first ever Mundri Volleyball League. It was a culmination of several months of playing and learning a new game for most, resulting in a very fantastic season of great matches and fantastic play, all highlighted by the final tournament that brought forth big crowds, and excitement, and new uniforms, and terrific teamwork. I was proud of the players! In many ways these youth allow me to feel like a proud uncle, or parent, or big brother as I watch them play volleyball and for many soccer, too. There is such delight to see others try something novel, to see them excel, or even slowly improve, to see a sense of community, of commitment, of trying hard to perform well, of inclusion, and general delight in doing something new.

I’ve been involved at the Mundri Primary Health Center for a while now, seeing mostly pediatric patients, but lots of adults too. In September I decided that I would offer a continuing medical education class (CME). So on Fridays, with excitement and hesitation, not knowing if any staff would come, I started an hour-long teaching time. The staff was excited and they usually came close to on time, and many even volunteered to offer teaching as well. In God’s great kindness he allowed this teaching time to bless me and the staff, and often the patients listened in and asked questions too!

I have a burden for youth and young men, especially, but really for all of humanity, to experience a love so great that it transformed my life for all time. With this in mind, it directs most of what I do, and it creates a burning desire within to spend time with people, to teach people, to live life with people, to stand beside people and sometimes say nothing at all. With this growing fire within, I decided to start a Bible study in the center of the local market. That place is where I have devoted most of my time, and where most of my friends work, and where most of my language learning has occurred, so what better place to learn and teach and have discussion about Biblical things. So began my weekly routine of every Saturday afternoon heading across the street, greeting friends and strangers alike on my way, to the very center of the market with Bibles, dictionaries, and beautiful Bible story paintings with African characters in tow. Sometimes two or three people joined, often times many more, as we looked at the pictures and read the stories that went along, asking questions and seeking answers. These are the times and moments that I enjoy the most in life, the laughter, the questions, the attempts at English and my even worse tries at Arabic, friends learning about each other and themselves as they team up to learn about God.

In September I was delighted to see that teammates Caleb and Michael opened up a kitchen and welcoming room for me! Now to my delight, I had actual running water in my house, an outdoor shower instead of bucket baths, and a propane stove and oven in my grasp! This quickly led to me having many more visitors in my house, sometimes 20 or more people in one day – most coming to greet, for a break from the heat, for medical advice, or simply to check on their American brother. Over the weeks and months, many cooking and baking sessions ensued, and now there are a slew of young Sudanese men that know how to cook too!

Thanksgiving was great, as all my cross-cultural holidays have been, as friends and teammates gathered to give praise and thanks for what God has done. A few days later I was hugging friends goodbye, as I boarded another MAF plane, this time taking me back to Uganda. I spent two weeks in Uganda, visiting friends and colleagues, again finding my way back to Bundibugyo for a short stay, then stopping off in Fort Portal to see teammate Pat, then venturing to southern Uganda to visit dear friends Geofrey and Lamech. And then up through the skies I arose, with some anxiousness from my head to my toes, as 15 months had passed since l was last at my American home.

So now Christmas has come and went, it found me in Ohio on the actual day, watching nieces and nephews with hordes of presents under the tree, all enticing them with their ‘what-is-it’ mystery. I’m thankful to be in the USA, but to say I prefer here over there, or there over here, I am unlikely to say. I’m still trying, and really struggling if I’m honest and frank, to combine all my worlds into one. Sometimes I feel like a secret agent, living a double life, never fully here, or completely there, but trying to maintain relationship with both. Unfortunately, I don’t always cross over well. I suppose God is teaching me to live in him, as the unchanging and forever constant thing in my life. Instead of always grasping at mortal things, I need to cleave tighter to the immortal King.

So I write to you today, with joy and thankfulness, as I finally take some much needed time to pause and reflect. 2011 was characterized by relationship – intentionally investing in others and seeking to love people, watching people grow, entering into their lives, trying to display Jesus through life and living more than word but ever eager to speak honestly about the hope that I have, challenging others at times, but hopefully encouraging more. I’m sure this ever-changing life of mine has also left me changed, or changing.

I’m thankful for you, especially those that have left encouraging word, or have prayed for me and supported in other ways. I am on my own faith path, but have crossed paths with many of you, and I have never felt I am on this journey alone. Though you cannot always venture with me, or may not understand my heart or mind, or coming and going, I firmly feel that I am on this journey with others often at my side. No man is an island, though I probably try to be more than most, so thank you for journeying to distant shore, for reading rambling notes, for lifting up my sporadic prayer requests, for sending a meaningful word, for viewing pictures online, for seeking to understand what I often fail to convey, and for being part of me – of my life, of my journey, of my walk.

-Scott J. Will

Uganda/South Sudan/USA