Joyful, Joyful

I realize that I have offered very little in my blogs to give you any sense of what my job is like. Frankly, the reason is that I’m not allowed to. The sensitive nature of our work restricts me from sharing details about my life between the hours of 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., Monday through Friday. But I can tell you the following: I love my office. I work with fourteen Ugandans and one American. Among our staff we have lawyers, investigators, a pastor, social workers, groundskeepers, a driver, and accountants. We also have an amazing executive assistant.

Our office offers legal assistance and aftercare to victims of Illegal Property Seizure (IPS). These victims are widows and orphans, some of the poorest, most vulnerable people in Uganda. IPS can leave a woman homeless, starving, and unable to provide for her children. Some victims are 80 years old, while others are school-age children. Many have HIV/AIDS. My colleagues work together to bring justice to our clients, persevering in spite of hostile, stubborn perpetrators.

As the aforementioned executive assistant to the director of the office, my job is basically to help our director stay on track and as efficient as possible. Coffee fetching? Not me! Rather, I spend most of my day corresponding with other staff in our office and staff at headquarters in Washington D.C. I take on projects that prepare my boss for meetings with local people interested in our work. I keep calendars up to date. I plan parties, retreats, donor visits, and trainings. I hire transportation, hotels, and restaurants. I am half of our Human Resources department. I don’t run for coffee but I do run for cakes, cookies, and pastries. I attend dinners and special events. I am the official office photographer (and I finally understand how my mother feels taking all the photos on family vacations and never being in any). Frankly, I’m a busy girl.

While work still remains a bit of a roller coaster (what new job isn’t?), one thing is certain and steadfast: my love for my colleagues. I absolutely love our staff. They are truly my Ugandan family, and while I am just a child in this large, charismatic family, there are moments when I feel like a doting parent. Whenever they introduce themselves to visitors, I simply want to stop at each and say, “Wait! You forgot! You’re also this, and this, and this to us!” I want visitors to know how amazing each of our staff is, and it’s hard not to sing their praises to everyone who comes to visit. Whenever my colleagues talk about their work, I experience true joy in the knowledge that I get to serve with and learn from them.

Joy is something that I have experienced in intense doses in the past week. It has been intense because it has been accompanied by great sadness. Last week I had the privilege of meeting one of our clients for the first time. I am not allowed to share her story now, but I hope to be able to some day since it has had a great impact on me. But I will share some of the ways her story impacted me.

I sat in her little house in the middle of a Kampala slum last week, and I realized that although oppression, evil and sadness are real elements of her past, her life is no tragedy. Trust me, I cried as she began to tell me her story—I couldn’t help it. But eventually the pain written across her face transformed into a beautiful smile when she expressed relief, peace, and hope for her future. This woman has experienced restoration and redemption. She has received justice. As I thought about the profound dichotomy between her past and her present I started to cry again. I wasn’t sad for her. I was simply overwhelmed by the beautiful picture in front of me of God’s love and faithfulness.

Meeting clients has been the biggest thrill of my job here. It is hard to process a lot of what I have seen, heard, and experienced, but I look forward to more opportunities to get to know the people our office serves.