Manry Family

We are celebrating 11 years of marriage today! While sharing coffee this morning at a local café in Jinja, we considered the things we never would have done had we not married each other. Sometimes we don’t even recognize ourselves as the Mark Manry and Lori Gresham that fell in love. God has taken us on a beautiful journey in our marriage and we consider every heartache and joy and sacrifice worth it. We are so proud of one another and how we’ve surrendered ourselves to God’s mutual shaping process that has to occur if a marriage is going to grow and mature. Here’s to many more years of challenges, changes in perspective, spontaneous adventure, failure, growth, children, ministry and relationships……lived and shared together!

11 Things we never would have done had we not married each other

1. Lori would never have given birth to Luke – maybe a Connor, but definitely not a Luke!
2. Mark would never have shopped at Banana Republic.
3. Lori would never have moved to Africa.
4. Mark would never have fathered a blue eyed, blond curly haired Tessa.
5. Lori would never have camped on an island in the middle of the Nile River.
6. Mark would never have plowed snow.
7. Lori would never have thought theological dialogue was a fun way to spend the evening.
8. Mark would never have thought watching “Gilmore Girls” was a fun way to spend the evening.
9. Lori’s home would never have been an environment of grace (nor have served so much rice!)
10. Mark’s home would never have been colorful and social, with few boundaries.
11. Lydia Jane and Myles never would have found their way into the family that loves them the best!

As we prepare to leave Uganda in just a few months my mind is flooded with memories as I reflect on our experiences and relationships over the past four years. Of course, it’s often easy to romanticize an amazing experience such as living in Africa. In a similar way, it’s also easy to emphasize the troubles and frustrations of living in a place where comfortable and convenient are inappropriate adjectives. Lately, I sense my endurance mechanisms dissolving as we pack and turn our hearts toward home. Things that have always bothered me, but I made great efforts to accept, are now irritating me beyond what should be normal!! I am constantly saying out loud, “I will NOT miss…” And yet as the words leave my mouth, I am reminded that the things that bother me are also the very things I will deeply miss about this sweet place. I thought I’d share a few.

I will NOT miss the ants that invade my kitchen, make trails throughout my house and often get transferred to our beds from our bare feet. But I will miss the way our house invites the outside to take up residence inside – whether it be animals, bugs, weather, strangers or friends.

I will NOT miss the unpredictable, often absent, and ever slow internet that makes a five minute computer task turn into thirty minutes. But I will miss living in a culture that doesn’t survive on technology.

I will NOT miss the milk that comes in a bag and sours quickly so I have to freeze it, remember to thaw it, cut the corners to pour it, and position it just right in my frig so it doesn’t spill….but of course, it always spills. But I will miss the incredibly fresh food we purchase from local dairies and farmers that fills our refrigerator and then our bellies!

I will NOT miss the orange dust that settles everywhere – even in the pores of my face. But I will miss the rust colored roads that cut through the brilliant green tropics of Uganda, creating spectacular views even right outside my window.

I will NOT miss waking up to a house bustling with workers, followed by their children, their sickness, their problems and their requests. But I will absolutely miss my sweet friendship with Bonnie, Harriet and Janet. Their support, presence and prayers throughout the years have healed my homesick heart….or was it their homemade bagels, pumpkin bread and wheat bread?

I absolutely will NOT miss my ever dirty, muddy, dusty children who require baths multiple times throughout the day. But I will definitely miss my children running barefoot, creating pots from mud, gardening with Wilson, inventing all sorts of instruments and weapons from natural materials, and playing on the coolest play set in Uganda.

You better believe I will NOT miss lying awake at night watching a child with a fever and fearing its Malaria. But I will miss the shaping of faith that constantly occurs when you live in a place where you have no choice but to surrender control and place your faith in the One who created your beloved child.

I will NOT miss the planning and energy that comes with visitors arriving and staying not three days but three weeks at least! But I will deeply miss anticipating the arrival of family, friends and even strangers from America, and the way they enter into our family, take part in the work and ministry, and become a part of our journey. Sweet memories!

I will NOT miss this dirty moldy house that leaks, shocks and breaks, taking an entire crew to maintain. But I will forever miss this beautiful home that has been the setting for meaningful events and relationships that have carved a new identity for our family.

I will NOT miss feeling completely “white” and UNinvisible in small town Jinja, where I can hop on the back of a boda boda (public transportation via bike) and the man will take me to my house without me ever telling him where to go. But I will miss living in a place where a vendor at the central market brings us two pineapples because he heard Mark was ill; where we can travel to the city of Kampala and be recognized and warmly welcomed by restaurant and hotel staff even though we have not been in months.

I will NOT miss feeling uncomfortable, awkward and often stupid in a new culture. But I will grieve leaving the place where I intimately encountered diversity and poverty in ways that have shaped new perspectives, behaviors and faithful living.

When I leave Uganda, may God preserve in my mind and heart all the things I love, and the people and memories that are joyful for me so I can remember the sweet way I encountered a living God in a new place, among a new people. But may he also preserve the trials, irritations and moments of fear and grieving so I can remember the terrible and amazing way I encountered a faithful God who is near to me in my discomfort and sadness.

In January this year, I set off on a much anticipated journey: PhD research at Sheffield Hallam University in the UK, studying Uganda's colonial and postcolonial history. I began the program with a growing awareness of how much I don't know, having far more questions than answers.  Such a disposition is actually ideal for the academic enterprise: honest questions, not pre-packaged answers, lead one to new insights and understandings.  My research is driven by questions that have emerged during the past four years I have lived in Uganda and witnessed/participated in the ongoing cultural collisions that define the political, economic, and social landscape. I continually wonder, how have ordinary people in Uganda (and by extension, other colonized peoples) defined their realities in a rapidly changing world during the past 100 years?