On January 31st, we returned home to Uganda after two winter months in the U.S. I love the first part of the year. It is like a really big Monday. I get a fresh start not only on the week, but the whole year. The resilient hope I felt, this year, was temporarily obscured by the exhausting effects of a house full of jet lag. After holing up with roast turkey with all the trimmings and cable television during the massive snow storm that hit the East Coast just before we left the U.S., it was a bit of a culture shock to find ourselves back in Uganda eating beans and sweating in almost 90° heat. But we persevered and eventually came out of the fog.

So here we are near the end of February. We have eaten all the mac-n-cheese we brought with us and are consuming our way through the last of the peanut butter. I fasted the first three days we were back, just to get my head back in the game again. I instinctively knew the children had readjusted remarkably well when Andy was making yum-yum noises as he ate boiled eggplant in bland peanut sauce. Oh, the joys of childhood. People say kids are resilient, but I like to think my kids just really love their home here.

Today was the first day of the new school year. Bitter sweet for me. I miss the children dearly, the house seems so quiet, but I'm secretly enjoying some alone time. It was amazing to realize how much the children have grown in the last three months. All their school uniforms were too small, especially Kakai. Her skirt was at least two inches above the knee.

Kakai is in her last year of elementary school. In November she will take a mandatory elementary school leaving examination. How she performs on that will determine what kind of high school she can get into. So a really big year for her. Lots of changes, one of which is that she will no longer live at home. The principal of the school, and my very dear friend, Cohtilida (Coe-teal-ee-da) has invited Kakai to stay with her family. This will allow Kakai to attend evening lessons and early morning preps. A new era of responsibility for Kakai and a sort of empty nest feeling for me. The school promised me Kakai would be able to come home on Wednesday evenings and all day Sundays. But it still feels like the end of a beautiful childhood bond that I've spent the last 12 years nurturing. I keep telling myself we will both be better for it. Time to let that bond transform into something more mature and hopefully stronger.

Shem and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary on February 3rd. The two months quality time in the U.S. did us good. Before we left on furlough I had hardly seen Shem for more than two days strung together. He was always off praying, building pastor unity, teaching. It was exhausting being without him. But I got my Shem-O-Meter charged up and I'm ready to face a life in ministry again. Amazing how most of our stress and strife just melted away as we had time to just be with each other. I don't even recall that we had any major conversations to fix anything. Maybe it was the sheer boredom of 29 hours on Greyhound bus from Missouri to Ohio that obliterated any lingering issues. So we are back on track and stronger than ever, a synchronized formidable team.

We also have had a few new additions to our household. Scovia and her daughter Harriet have come to live with us, helping with household chores and leading worship in the church. I am very happy and trying desperately not to scare them off. Swamped with rumors about how "tough" I am, Scovia was shy at first, but soon came to realize rumors are just that. We get along very well. I do find, however, that my frustration level is inversely proportional to my language skills. Scovia does not speak English and I butcher Luganda and Lumasaaba, but we are coming along well. She has learned to bear with me as I stop mid-sentence and squeeze my eyes shut, trying desperately to bring forth the right word out of the depths of my empty brain. I, on the other hand, have come to rely on her quick smile and sweet demeanor.

So now you know what I know about my life here in Uganda. Nothing too earth shattering, just getting on with it and seeing God move. I'm determined to live life WITH God this year instead of FOR Him. Plugged into the real power source instead of trying to do things on my own. It's like stepping out of an airplane and finding the clouds have substance. Exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Hope your years has begun well. If not, please know you are not alone. God allows us to comfort one another with the comfort we ourselves have received. Please let me know your struggles and joys. Both are better when they are shared.

Much love,

Catherine