That stomach virus turned out to be more than just a virus. There was something wrong with my colon.
So two days before I was supposed to fly, my mother and I decided that I should not go to Uganda.
Here I am, still typing on my couch like I was last week, waiting for the tests to come back and tell us what kind of sickness I have.
I am strangely at peace with the whole thing. It was after midnight, after I threw up what little bit of PB&J I could get down for dinner, that she asked me, “How am I supposed to let you fly thousands of miles away with this sickness?” And the reality of the situation sunk in. So we prayed. And I knew it was okay. Even though all of my plans for the next 4 months just got wiped away like a dirty countertop. Not going to lie, following one of my peer’s blogs from the program instead of writing one is not what I expected. But I’m inclined to see this as a last-minute act of God, keeping me from going for some reason.
Now we are trying to get me back into school, which starts next week. That is, if I am well by then. And there are costs that still must be paid at this point, whether or not I go on the Uganda trip. Sigh. But I am content.
And I am loved, judging by the 40 or so people who have asked after me, said they were praying for me, and sent me notes of encouragement on Facebook. Thank you.