What does life look like in the gap? Here is a snapshot from my view:
Upon arrival in Bundibugyo you realize quickly that if there were a book written in Lubwisi about “love languages” there would be only one chapter. The title of this lone chapter would be “Ompeh” (“you give me…”). Gifts are the currency of friendship and the demonstration of love. Combine this cultural norm with the following cultural norm - relationships are communal…if you are “friends” (in a relationship involving the giving and receiving of gifts) with one person, you are by default friends with all of their friends/family/clan, etc – and for our team right now you get: a lot of saying no.
When you have a history of 20 + years of WHM missionaries in this community, that equals a lot of inherited “friendships” and a lot of expectations for our, now very small in comparison to the past, team. So, when any of these friends loses a family member or gets sick or has any problem, they come to us as their friend for assistance. The fact is, we cannot be “friends” to all of these people, not by Babwisi or American cultural standards. Now, that might be easy for you to understand, but for the person who just lost their cousin-sister’s daughter’s child and is expected to contribute to burial costs but doesn’t have the money and was friends with Alan Lee (for example – a pioneer WHM missionary in Bundibugyo), it’s not only impossible to understand but also offensive when we tell them we will not give them the sum of money they are asking for. So, with such a long history of friendships and so few of us, that’s a lot of saying no. With such a long history of really cool ministries and programs and resources, that’s a lot of blessing God has given our team the privilege of doing. It’s also a lot of expectation. Does that mean that the cool friendships, ministries, programs and resources are/were not so cool afterall? NOT AT ALL, please hear me out on that…it is just a reality of “the gap” and what it looks like to be standing here.
Saying no so much is exhausting…way more draining than saying yes. So, standing in the gap is what? It’s exhausting. But it’s what God has called us to right now. I believe it’s good for us and good for the community, but it’s hard.
When there have been 17 years of cutting edge community health initiatives; health promotion, disease prevention, outreaches, community education, acute care diagnosis and treatment, PhD’s in Public Health, PhD’s in Nutrition, several MPH’s, PA’s, and MD’s – the word gets out…there’s health care to be had…we were making contacts with people all over the district and people flooded to a health center that is poorly staffed at best. Medicine was provided, care was provided, lives were saved, medical and spiritual training was done, all as work was done alongside our Ugandan coworkers.
We are now a part time nurse and a part time doctor, Ugandan staff are few (many off getting more education), no National Medical Store essential medicine deliveries in several months despite bimonthly orders, hunger season getting underway (gardens are small and cocoa is in it’s off season), our own WHM medicine stock depleted and plans for purchasing still yet to be made amidst all of the transitions…The word is out that medicine is scarce, that those of us with white skin are few & far between, the wards are eerily empty compared to their usual packed to capacity volume, the ones who are coming are coming on their death beds, and we offer what we have but most often it’s not enough. Death is frequent, common, and has cast a heaviness in the air on the ward. The malnutrition section of the ward was totally and completely empty this morning, save a lone bottle of Normal Saline hanging at an empty bedside where the last of the occupants died yesterday. A few nutrition patients remain scattered throughout the ward, but nobody wants to be moved into a section where all but one patient died instead of being discharged. I don’t blame them. I stand here, 3days/wk I stand in the gap with my Ugandan coworkers, as does Travis 2-3 days/wk. I am honored to stand there with them. I am honored to stand where few white people have stood before, not able to offer the necessary solutions only able to offer a few resources, and mostly support and encouragement. This honor is mine not because of anything I’ve done, but because this is where God has called me right now, for just a time as this. Watching death is hard, it’s not what we were made for, it’s not what children were made for, but it’s where God has called me right now. What does the view look like from the gap? It looks like the valley of death.
But the valley of death is not the end of the story…
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