Mrs.O's writing room.

Oct 22, 2012

Oct 9, 2012

This is another one of my - print-it-out, read-after-work, in-your-free-time kind of posts.

We started writing a new chapter around this time last year. We'd just relocated to "the united stated".
Friends opened their doors as we found our bearing, they offered ideas, tips and advice on how to deal with the challenges of relocation.
Mich begun 2nd grade while Sam and I spent the days applying for jobs.
I got a brief assignment through a hiring agency. A short while later Sam got a job with a health insurance firm. We moved into our own place. I begun toying with the idea of staying home when I was offered a job with my former employer.
I started work in January and things got pretty crazy, I didn't know whether I was coming or going. Between adjusting to the busy office, learning the systems and procedures and spending 3 hours commuting; rushing home to fix dinner, wash the kids and put them to bed, I thought I would collapse in a heap. I wanted to literally coil up in bed all weekend but the kids... and then Sunday was church day, if only to find strength to face another week.

We visited church after church but didn't find the nourishment that we longed for. Houses of prayer seemed commercially driven, competitive and superficial.
Church A had the fancily dressed who's who of the area. I thought "pssh! just ignore!" but when the pastor pulled out his i-phone to read the scriptures, my brain froze. I didn't get past that.
Church B was okay. It had great worship but the sermons seemed shallow.
Church C had passion, the congregation was warm and friendly, all 25 of them. Everyone brought their own chair so to speak, the singing was ... how can I put it? ... I can't. But lets just say we haven't been back there in a while.
Church D was something else. After worship we sat down and a cinema screen was lowered, eh! to watch a sermon nga I got out of my bed? Anyway I'm old school like that. I want to see a preacher and know I can touch him. Put him on a screen and my mind begins to wonder ..."oba I just watch a tele-evangelist at home?!"

Mich didn't like school, he "created" stories about his homework, smuggled toys in his bag, ~~brought chits from his teacher~~ I found notes from his teacher in his bag.
He was upset that Mummy and Daddy had all the fun - going to work everyday when he was being punished with school, and why wasn't Amani given homework?. He insisted on exchanging places with me, he preferred he went to my office while I sat in his class, except he hadn't considered the basic logistics of getting to my office for starters. That story ended albeit unconvincingly.
The politics of friendships wiped the smile off my face. There was competition to be in certain peoples good books. Friendships were protected jealously; "Please make your own friends and kindly don't feed off of my hard work" is the message in-scripted between the lines. I understood that since the community of dependable relationships was small, there was a need to secure one's turf. I backed off and related on a more casual level confident that God would bring people into my life.

Through these ups and downs and mowing the lawn, there was a silver lining of God's mercies. I needed to be quiet to see and feel His loving arms around me. I had a job; Mich's school was a block away; Amani's day care was just up the road; God had surrounded us with a Ugandan community. A Zimbabwean friend leaving the country had literally given us everything we needed to start a home. The winter was mild - that was a warm welcome. I met Camille on the bus, and since Susan braided my hair our friendship has grown.
I knew I was there for a reason when my manager was distraught over her ailing mother and I listened and subtly mentioned my faith in God.

Life is busy. Some days Sam and I wish we could stop the ticking clock. Especially on days when we leave office late to pick the kids from daycare. That happens to be the day the train is slow, there is backed up traffic on the road, but tick-tock, the clock keeps ticking away, one minute, two minutes.... We've panicked, even broken into sweat just watching those figures change, we've called each other with "where are you now?" or "are you almost there?" questions. The first to arrive runs into the daycare panting and apologizing profusely. Then we get this look of "get your act together dude!!" (or dude-ess). I whined, thinking back to how easy it was in Kampala. I thought about the support system, of our help Stella, who was always home when Mich got back from school. But Sam was steadfast, never a word of complaint. The unsaid message being "I know this is hard but we are going to find a way to make it work. We are not backing out, we are going to dig in and do whatever it takes. God has been good to us, we can only be grateful."

We settled with Church B after realizing that part of our problem was the cultural differences. We're apart of the coolest home group ever; 6 families with 16 children aged between 9 years and 9 months - beat that!!
Mich is now in 3rd grade, he has several friends who knock at our door. He is a more comfortable in his own skin and turning out to be quite the artist.
Amani turned 2. She is so much fun, always thrilled at a new sun rise (I don't know how she does it).
We have adjusted to the work schedule, team work around the house gets things done.
We travel far for work but hope that maybe next year we will move closer and adjust to more change at that stage. And then you'll receive another long news letter.

Ms.Amani. Yup! I cut her hair, daddy didn't know what to do with it, so I made life simple.

I guess you can tell who's in charge here.

Mich loved to put flowers in his sisters hair.

By the way happy 50th! UG rocks!

Sep 26, 2012

Gothic Architecture: The House of Prayer

It is the sixth-largest cathedral in the world. The Cathedral church of Saint. Peter and Saint. Paul, aka the Washington National Cathedral. It pierces through the air, tall and elegant, blending in but standing out at the same time. It looks like an ancient castle, like a mystery house.
I was drawn to visit it because it's a house of prayer. Apart from the imprint it left on mind while driving by on a tour bus, I'd heard fascinating stories about the Gothic architecture.

Front view of the Cathedral

George Washington in his coat of many colors :-)

All Catholics know this structure. Reminded me of "Christ the King" in Kampala

Space window. The dot in the middle of the circle (up there) contains moon rock that Apollo xi brought back from his trip to the moon.

South Rose. Depicting the Church triumphant, imagery from the book of Revelations

Choir area

View from the Pulpit

Hall way

The chair that qualifies the church as a cathedral

The atmosphere wasn't reverent, it felt like a museum as opposed to a house of prayer. Our tour guide amused me as she mentioned stories from the bible like it was the history of Napoleon. "This is a crotchet of David fighting a giant" then she would pause to let it sink in, as though she was waiting for us to exclaim in surprise or something.
It has great architecture, that's for sure.

Sep 20, 2012

Worship and an Omelette

Fill in the missing letters.

Friday evening found me bobbing my head, raising my hands and singing joyfully in the Patriot Center at a Israel Houghton concert. I was sitting at a strange angle with those poles at an unavoidable spot. I'm sure the m_stery l_tters will n_t tickle your brains much.

God is the essence of my life but music has the effect of crowning it all. In moments of worship, I feel one with God. I feel like this is where I belong, everyday. Every moment. All the days of my life. It will be a full time occupation when I get to heaven but while I'm here on earth, I got stuff to attend to and some how worship should be woven into my daily routine.

I try to be a good wife but I slip often and my Sam takes it in stride (bless his heart). Two Sunday's ago, I pulled out all the stops and made him a sumptuous breakfast (they are rare like that). It looked good and tasted great too. Mich exclaimed, "wow! mummy, this looks nice" (mind you, he is not very generous with his applause). I scored highly. But quite apart from the gratitude they expressed, my heart was elated. I felt a sense of purpose. This is what I was created to do. I get a similar feeling when I'm worshiping. Then it dawned on me, that through loving my husband and taking care of my family, I'm worshiping God. As simple as that. Right in that moment, I'd heard the sermon and sang the praise - that was church right there.

Living in the DC, worship artists come often. So here are some pictures from the Houghton concert and DC fest early last month. Can't wait to see Toby Mac in December.