The spirituality of...

I puked.  Not what you were expecting to hear, eh?  It somehow feels like I have successfully completed some sort of right of passage ceremony and now belong to an official club of travelers.  It was not the vomit itself that was the worst part of the experience, though.  I did not want to puke alone.  It sounds strange because most people would want to be alone during such a lowly moment, but I longed for the comfort of someone to be present with me during my feelings of agony.  I wanted someone to care for me.  Instead, I was alone…in the dark…outside with my waste bin and had to pull myself together enough to care for my own well-being.  But was I really alone?

On the way home from my practicum site that same day, I was talking with Jesus.  In the midst of my prayers, I heard Jesus say to me, “Emilia, I will take care of you.  Trust me.”  Though I did not know what it would mean, I decided to trust Jesus to make sure that I held it together through the bumpy car ride to campus.  Within ten minutes of arriving, I had received a call to come pick up a package that was dropped off that day.  There are no words to describe the amount of elation I felt in that exact moment.  I had been eagerly awaiting this package from my mom for weeks and could not wait to see what she had sent me.  My sickness still persisted, but my mood was rising.

The package has come!

The pain of sickness does something to one’s spirit.  As much as I tried to continue to find joy in Jesus, I reached a point of brokenness again.  I was comforted with my package and surprised by all of the love that my mom had sent to me thousands of miles from home, but could not let go of my feelings of down-right agony.  Let me remind you that I was feeling nauseous for at least eight hours and had reached a point where I could no longer handle the pain.  I had embraced the fact that I was going to need to puke in order to get better and used the trash bag my mom had used to pack my treats as my primary means of collecting what was to come. 

And I waited…and waited…and nothing happened.  There is nothing like waiting for something horrible to happen and feeling totally helpless over the situation.  I had reached a point of desperation and decided to pray in my moment of weakness.  I prayed for Jesus to be with me and to make the vomit come (probably the strangest prayer request I have had) because I could not spend another minute with this feeling.  Not even five minutes later, my prayer request had been answered.  While I wanted nothing more than to disappear, I felt the peace of Jesus deep in my soul as He embraced me at my lowest point when I felt like no one else could. 

The supernatural way of life is taken more seriously in Uganda.  Everything has some sort of spiritual reason attached to it.  Before coming to Uganda, I had the preconceived notion that I would have some sort of “spiritual revival” as a result of needing to depend more on God.  It has been two months and I am no closer to God than when I first stepped foot into the country.  I think my belief stemmed from the root stereotype that many of us hold about Africa – it is easier to encounter God in Africa because we do not have as many “distractions” to deter us away from Him.  In a nation with such great poverty, how can anyone not rely on God everyday?

The truth of the matter is that it is very easy to live without looking to God, even in extreme poverty.  Why, you ask?  Life in all places of the world has its distractions and it is no different in Uganda.  I would go so far to say that poverty makes it harder to rely on God because there may not be enough room in someone’s life to allow Jesus to come in.  Survival is difficult, let alone trying to maintain a spiritual life amidst the desire to meet daily physical needs.  (Think – Maslow’s hierarchy.)  But Ugandans are very spiritual, just in a different way than Americans are used to thinking of spirituality.  I am humbled by how wrong I have been about what spirituality would mean in this context.

Therefore, while I may just have a stomach bug, I believe that my puke experience was, indeed, very spiritual.  This may be my Ugandan-side speaking, but it was God’s way of showing me how much I need to depend on Him in all of life and proving that He does take care of those He loves.  Everything about my day was intentional and seemed to lead up to this exact experience.  I left my practicum site early (a rare occurrence), which allowed me to have the ability to get my package.  Inside of the package was the garbage bag from my mom that made it so much easier for me to puke.  It was not until I had completely surrendered myself to Jesus that I was able to feel relief.  Shortly after I had finished, it started to pour outside and I was incredibly thankful for being able to be sick in dry conditions.  You see, everything has a reason…

xoxo,

Emilia

 

Playing jumbo games with new friends!

My trip was made more financially affordable thanks to the Benjamin A. Gilman International Scholarship (http://www.iie.org/en/Programs/Gilman-Scholarship-Program)!