One of the great ironies about this Compassion blogging trip is that I haven’t been able to actually read any blogs. For one thing our internet connection here has been approximately the speed of Ye Olden Dial-Up Of Yore, and when you combine the slow internet speed with about fifteen bloggers who like to post LOTS AND LOTS OF PICTURES, you pretty much have a prize-winning recipe for How To Make Sure You Can’t Read The Blogs.
Which reminds me: have I mentioned that I haven’t been able to check my blog email for five days now? Well, I haven’t. I can’t even log on to the site. I’m hopeful that the twitching will subside before I arrive home.
I would also like to report that as far as I can tell, there is not a single diet Coke in all of Uganda. Nor is there any fried chicken.
Needless to say, it is only by the grace of God that I have not had to enter some sort of emergency 12-step program for my addictions to caffeine and hot peanut oil.
However, we have three days left, so we TOTALLY still have time for that to happen.
I may require some intercessory prayer, my friends.
And in addition to all the sort of trivial stuff, the fact that any of us has any presence of mind at all is nothing short of a miracle. We are all operating on an average of 3-4 hours of sleep, not to mention some completely jacked up emotions. Right now it’s about 1:45 AM Uganda time, and Shannon and I are sitting here typing on our computers like we’re a couple of college girls who have nothing to do and nowhere to be. Neveryoumind that we have to wake up at 6 AM. We’re in total denial about that whole sleep deprivation thing.
After all, there’s plenty of time to sleep when we get home. Personally, I’m thinking of sleeping through the rest of February. And perhaps into March. I will be sure to let you know when I finalize my sleeping goals.
Because the truth of the matter is that this week has had an emotional and spiritual impact on me like I could have never imagined. I feel like someone has taken my safe little suburban world, turned it upside down, shaken it like crazy, and then spun it around two or fourteen times for good measure.
So my safe little suburban world and I, we are reeling. I think it will take me months to process everything we’ve seen and experienced. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell all the stories.
But I want to make sure to tell you this: your comments and your prayers have ABSOLUTELY helped sustain us this week. Really, you have no idea how much.
We celebrated every single time one of you mentioned that you had decided to sponsor a child. I even did some clapping.
Or maybe I was just slapping the mosquitoes off of my legs.
But still, we were absolutely delighted.
And here’s a really cool thing that happened.
Anne was trying to find out if there were any children in Uganda who had been waiting for a sponsor for more than six months so that she could post about those specific kids on her blog. She found three kids. She resumed writing her post, and when she went back to the Compassion site to copy the link, one child’s picture was no longer there.
Because during that ten minute time span when Anne was working on her post, somebody stepped in and stepped up for a precious Ugandan girl. She has a sponsor now.
In a word: awesome.
And get this. I just went to that same page because I wanted to link to those remaining two children who have been waiting so long. And now? Only one child is left. In all of Uganda, there is only ONE CHILD who has been waiting longer than six months on a sponsor. You can see her information right here.
And if you click over and that little girl’s picture is missing, that’s great news. Because it means that someone has stepped up and stepped in for her as well. In two words: super-awesome.
(I have never uttered that expression in my life. I am somewhat ashamed. But I’m going to go with it because, as you know, I like to roll with the cheesy from time to time.)
So thank you, thank you, thank you. A million times. For what you’ve done – and what you’re going to do.
Thank you, sweet internets.
I can never say it enough.