It’s been exactly two years, one month, five days, and a few hours since we left home. And by home, I mean the only place in the last 17 years where we’ve felt settled and at peace. One of the first questions I plan to ask God after walking through those pearly gates, is, “why did you tell us to go home when we were already there?” You see, when we left for Uganda in 2018, our plan was to die there. Yet somehow, we now find ourselves back where we started.

We’ve spent a lot (probably way too much) of time the last two years trying to make sense of our abrupt departure from Uganda. We’ve spent probably just about as much time trying to figure out what to do next. In the beginning we tried to manufacture a triumphant return to our East African home. We pretended for several months that everything was alright with the Morrisons, and that we’d be back to eating beans, rice, and chapati in no time. But as the months turned into a year, we were nowhere closer to getting back home than we were the day we stepped off the plane in Tennessee. As a matter of fact, we were right back where we were early on in our marriage. Drowning in debt and utterly confused about which direction we should be going.

I’ll fast forward quite a bit and skip the unexpected move to Oklahoma, miraculously buying a house without having a job, getting so deeply in debt we were close to losing everything, having a nervous breakdown because of said debt, getting a great job finally, raising chickens, having a chicken funeral one Saturday morning… and you’re now mostly caught up. A lot has happened in the last year and a half. Some of it has been good, and some of it has been not so good. Some of it might have been inspirational to you, and some of it might have caused you to pray for us real hard. And you know, that’s the thing right there. None of you, other than our praying parents and maybe a close friend or two, even knew what was really going on with the Morrisons the last two years. We’ve been in hiding.

We’ve been hiding from family, friends, pastors, and mentors. We’ve been hiding from our amazing supporters. We’ve been hiding from all the questions about Uganda. We’ve been hiding from having to explain over and over and over and over why we left and if/when we’re going back. And we’ve been hiding from ourselves. It took us almost two years to finally realize it, but we were hiding from our true feelings about this whole situation.

Have you ever been too depressed to grieve? I know that sounds weird, so let me (try to) explain further. Has the weight of losing someone or something been so heavy on you that you can’t even process that you’ve lost someone/thing? I know the fourth stage of the five stages of grief is depression, however, I believe it is entirely possible to skip the denial, anger, and bargaining stages and go straight to depression if you’re too overwhelmed to process the loss. Especially when it takes you several months to even realize that you’ve lost something.

You might be thinking, “what exactly did you lose, Jared?” Was it the extreme heat and constant barrage of insects, some of which could kill you? Or was it the traffic that was so chaotic it makes Atlanta’s and Los Angeles’s highways seem like wide-open country backroads? Or maybe it’s all the stress caused by deceitful people trying to take advantage of you every time you turn around? No, it has to be the never-ending sickness and fatigue from all the parasites and bacteria found on everything!? While all of that sounds amazing right now (lol), that wasn’t what I lost.

I lost my purpose.

One of the definitions of purpose is; a person’s sense of resolve or determination. Despite all those *fun* traits of Uganda listed above, I was driven and determined to meet the needs of and share Jesus with the Ugandan people, especially the vulnerable children we worked with. The work was meaningful and fulfilling. I felt like I was finally working toward something that mattered in light of eternity. We had developed sweet relationships with so many amazing Ugandans. They accepted and loved us for who we were and we accepted and loved them for who they were. We were doing life with them. We were making disciples! They saw us at our best and at our worst, and that didn’t change the relationships at all. It’s what we dreamed and prayed about for years. We were finally there! And then we weren’t.

So, for almost two years now, I’ve been depressed and didn’t really know it. Once I realized I was depressed and why I was depressed, I was able to do some grieving. I’ve grieved alone. Kimberly and I have grieved as a couple. And we’ve started to grieve a little as a family. When Kimberly and I finally realized what was going on in our hearts, it was like a lightbulb came on and shed some light on the fact that our kids never really got closure on our time in Uganda. Their fragile little lives had been uprooted and replanted 8,000 miles away from everything they had ever known, but they were thriving. It wasn’t easy for them over there, but they had adapted, climatized, and were loving life in The Pearl of Africa. Then seemingly overnight, after throwing a few things in a little suitcase, they were back in their home country, but not in their home. They too were confused, sad, and depressed and didn’t really know it.

The kids and Kimberly haven’t been back to Uganda since. I had the great displeasure of traveling back home eight months after our abrupt departure to sell off or give away almost all of our stuff, and then pack up what little was left to bring it back to my parents’ basement, where we were living at the time. Now that we have worked through the depression and some of the grief, we believe it is time for us to have a do over on the whole departure from Uganda thing. We need to go back home and then leave the right way. We’ll have more to say about that in the coming months. Stay tuned…

So where do we go from here? Well, we’re going to just be. Be58 was born out of our God-given desire to be a family on mission and be present wherever we are. We don’t know exactly what that looks like from day to day, but as long as we are present wherever we are, genuinely love everyone along the way, and obey when we hear from Him, everything will be alright. We’re also ready to let everyone back into our crazy and fun life. We realize that by finally airing out our dirty laundry, we’re committing to ourselves and our supporters that we’re moving forward on the mission that God has given our family. It’s been way too easy to hide out for a while and not let anyone jump on the roller coaster ride with us. We know God designed us to be in community with like-minded believers, and we’ve been foolishly avoiding it. It’s time for the world to be reintroduced to our crazy life, crazy kids, and our passion for loving God and loving people.

We’re also exploring a partnership with our Ugandan brother, Patrick, and his ministry in the village we lived in for almost two years. The pandemic has left so many Ugandan families in desperate need, and that has led to children dropping out of school and having even less access to food and medicine than before the pandemic started. We’ll also have more to say on that in the coming months.

If you’ve made it this far, you’re probably wondering, “what are they going to ask me for now?” (insert eye roll lol) All we’re asking for right now is prayer. Please pray for Levi, Gideon, Judah, Moriah, and Josiah. Pray for continued healing in their hearts and increased passion to love God and love people. Pray that Kimberly and I can love and lead them well as we continue to be a family on mission. And lastly, pray for the people of Uganda and the rest of the world. Pray that God will show every believer—young and old, rich and poor—that we can use whatever resources we have to show His love to those around us.

Much love,

Jared, Kimberly, and the rest of the Circus