one white guy

There’s nothing I don’t like about Thanksgiving. Because there are only five of us in my family, we’ve taken on a traditional beach trip this time each year– somewhere slightly warmer than Virginia, but no doubt abandoned and peaceful in the off-season. On turkey-day morning we take walks on the beach; after dinner we play mini golf. Then we eat more. It’s heaven.

It is especially hard to be away from home this year. While fall foliage and dropping temperatures signal the holiday season Stateside, I’m stable at 80 degrees with only random clues from Facebook that times are changing. Other fellows are wrapping up their time here; ex-pat friends are heading home for the holidays. I’ve lived in Uganda just over five months and I can count on my fingers the number of times I’ve talked to my family. I don’t have my friends or any familiar conveniences. It’s starting to get really lonely. And weird. A little tradition and comfort food would have been nice.

Not all is lost, though. The IJM interns and fellows will meet this weekend at our director’s house for a Ugandan approximation of the traditional Thanksgiving meal. We’ll do the games and the TV marathons, drink wine, eat pie, and (I’m sure) go around the table sharing one thing for which we’re thankful. I’m sure it’ll be a great substitute and will give me a chance to reflect honestly on giving thanks.

When I think about the transition from last year to now, I am incredibly thankful. My interest in joining IJM became serious only last fall, sending me scurrying to finish my application in time. I had been idling in suburban Maryland in a repetitive office job, constantly looking out for someplace better. To have moved from that three-year plateau to now is remarkable. I’ve gotten to be far more creative and strategic and proactive than I ever was in my old cubicle. I am thankful for all of that.

I’m also overwhelmingly thankful for all of the people who have played a role in getting me to this point. I remember when I called my mom to tell her I’d been accepted to IJM Uganda, there was a moment of silence as she surely ran through all the scenarios of her middle son living in the heart of Africa. In every phase of this experience, my parents have been unwavering in their support. My brothers, too, were right beside me and continue to offer encouragement while I’m here. A huge network of friends from high school, Elon, church, work, and elsewhere has kept me focused here and filled in on what I’m missing back home. Church members in Virginia and Maryland – some who’ve known me for years, some for months, some not at all – have committed support financially and prayerfully to help me in this fellowship.

Normally around the Thanksgiving table, I scrounge up some barely significant change from the year’s events to add as my token thanksgiving. This year, however, I owe a huge, huge thanks for so much. I’m just thankful that this has even become an opportunity for me, that IJM didn’t laugh in my face when I applied, that my coworkers are so undeniably awesome, that I’ve been safe and happy and healthy. I’m so grateful that God allowed me to be here, to see these things, to meet these people. This trip has been entirely different from what I’d expected, but way cooler than I could have hoped. And it’s less than halfway through. I know at next year’s table, wherever I happen to be, I’ll have even more reason to say thanks.

Enjoy this picture of a sunrise.

Best Thanksgiving wishes to you and your family, no matter where they are in the world.