Feb. 15- Paidha, Uganda
“I remember when life was easy,” I think as I lay on a mattress, along with Aubrey and Jodi, that’s been set up outside for us. The three of us and Robin are all sick with some sort of stomach bug that’s zapped us of all of our energy. I think of how easy life is when you have a nice, clean, porcelain toilet when you’re sick. How nice it is to have a Wal Greens, CVS, Wal-Mart or Target full of medications meant to make you better.
How nice it is to have an air conditioned home so you’re not constantly sweating. How nice it is to not have flies and bees swarming around you as you try to go. I remember picking up a bottle of Ozarka or Dasani, never worrying whether someone cruel filled it up with dirty, disease infested water using a syringe.
I remember when life was easy because it wasn’t that long ago.
Hope’s life has never been easy. She’s 7 years old and suffers from sickle cell anemia. Her parents can’t afford all of her medications and special meals. Her twin sister died two years ago from malaria. But every morning we wake up to the sound of her laughter outside of our window as she plays with the other children who live around here.
She plays and plays until dark, then comes into the house for a prayer of healing and then goes to sleep.
Her best friend Gloria’s life has never been easy. She is HIV + and is only 8 years old. She sometimes has to miss school because of its symptoms. But that doesn’t stop her from dancing with everything she has in her each time there is a church meeting. It never stopped her from learning how to write English words with me. And it never stopped her from calling me “jaremo parra,” the words for my friend in Alur. She’d laugh and laugh when she’d walk up behind me and tickle me and I’d act like it was the most shocking thing I’ve ever experienced.
Her life isn’t easy, but she lives it with joy.
Then there’s Glory, the 14-year-old girl I noticed had a shifty gaze the day we went to the primary school to give a sex/HIV talk. As the other girls giggled at the word sex, she looked down.
We were told that our assignment that day was to tell the girls that sex could wait until marriage, but that most were getting married as young as 13 to much older men. The spread of HIV was rampant as the young girls accepted gifts for sex just because they are in need or just want to feel loved.
Glory came to church that day and said she wanted Jesus to be her savior, but I haven’t heard from her since. I’m sure her life now hasn’t miraculously become easy.
And then there’s Irene, the woman who told me she needed counsel after I preached on Sunday. As she held her baby, she told me that her husband has told her that she was not really his wife as an excuse to sleep with other women. She says that she constantly wants to walk away from her faith since he comes home after sleeping around expecting her to still give him what he wants.
Because he is who supports her financially and because of her commitment to him, she doesn’t know whether she can or should leave him. I ask if she’s at least protecting herself against HIV and she just tells me that he refuses to get tested and she is relying on God to heal her.
I don’t know if that means she’s already contracted the disease. We prayed and she asked to stay in touch with me.
I remember when life was easy. They do not.
