It is a beautiful evening in Uganda. The breeze is blowing through the palm trees and the setting sun sends dancing streams of sunlight through the leaves. The birds are chirping, the kids are playing soccer. You know, that kind of beautiful evening. Everyone else went to ministry tonight. They had to preach on worship. Funny how the Africans want us to teach them about worship. I feel like they should teach us a thing or two. Anyway, I stayed back because I’m not feeling so hot. I started feeling sick two days ago- almost like I had the flu. My neck was really sore, headache, body aches, sick to my stomach, and SO tired. So, I went to the doctor and for less than a dollar figured out that I have Malaria, and for less than $11, got the medication to fix it. I’m not feeling better yet, but they say it takes quite a while to feel back to normal. Thankfully I caught it early. So yah, now I’m sitting out on our porch getting some fresh air because I haven’t left our room in the last two days. It’s been good to sit on this porch. Better than wallowing in that bed like I’ve been doing for the last 48 hours. But now I’m tired and this old lady body is telling me to go lay down again. I’m sitting here trying to think of something profound. Some way I can make this sickness into an allegory to life… to end this blog on a positive note, but right now, I’ve got nothing. Nikki gave me a speech today about being okay with being sick. Not always feeling like I have to be doing something. That it’s okay to “just be.” So I will just be. Just be okay with not always having it all together. Maybe I’m complaining. Maybe I’m just being honest. Here is my confession. I’m sick with Malaria. Nearing the end of my time in Africa. I’m just tired. I miss my boyfriend, my family, cheeseburgers from Red Robin, and showers that don’t require a bucket. I could probably come up with a whole list of things I’m sick of, but I’ll spare you of that. I’m probably being a wimp or maybe the Malaria meds are getting to me, but I’m lacking a little motivation right now. I know it will be okay. I know that in a couple of days I’ll probably write a blog to assure you that I haven’t thrown in the towel, that life is still good, and that I’m not depressed, but for now, this is where I’m at and God is still good. So I will end with what my new African friend, Agnes, told me to say with a smile…
“that’s life”
