To bring the hope and healing of Jesus to the marginalized families in Uganda

Called: Our First Missionary's Story

- Two years ago, I heard the call. The voice deep within spoke to me softly, strongly, undeniably.
  
  It was 2020 — the height of the initial Covid-19 lockdown. When schools closed, I fled the East Coast for fear of the loneliness I knew I would encounter isolated in my North Carolina apartment. I was doing my best to maintain relationships with my middle school students, but teaching virtually from my mom's office in my childhood home didn't measure up. Masses were suspended. I couldn't worship in community or draw upon the strength of receiving the Eucharist, which had carried me through so many other difficult seasons of my life.
  
  It was 2020, during the height of the initial Covid-19 lock-down. When schools closed, I fled the East Coast for fear of the loneliness I knew I would encounter isolated in my North Carolina apartment. I was doing my best to maintain the strong relationships I had built with my middle school students, but teaching through the screen from my mom's home office in my childhood home didn't measure up. Furthermore, masses were suspended. I couldn't worship in community or draw upon the strength of receiving the Eucharist which had carried me through so many other difficult seasons of my life.
- I felt the loss of teaching and the sacraments deeply. The two things which had (barely) kept me from succumbing to the loneliness and depression I had experienced in my post-graduate life were suddenly whisked away amidst the whirlwind panic of the pandemic. The last thing I expected at this moment in my life was to hear the Lord's voice calling me to serve Him as a missionary overseas.
  
  One afternoon, I drove to the parish near my house just to check if the doors were unlocked. Praise God, they were. I spent an hour praying with Acts of the Apostles and just being with Christ in the silence. I felt strengthened by this time of prayer, but there was something else new happening within me. I felt a stirring, a burning within, but was unable to make sense of it. I left the hour with a renewed vigor and a deep sense of peace. Each day after, I would come back, and the ritual would repeat. I would pray with Acts, my soul would be set ablaze, then I would go home happy, but unaware of the meaning of this interior movement.
  After many weeks, I was once more spending my hour with the Lord, when the inner stirring and yearning and burning grew until it was all-consuming. The questions burst forth from my inmost being.
  
  "What do you want, Lord?" I demanded, "What is this for?"
  
  Much to my surprise, I clearly heard the still small voice within.
  
  "Follow me," it said.
  
  "Where?" I asked.
  
  "To the ends of the earth," he replied.
  
  "I will go," was my response. Peace settled over me.
  When I stepped off the plane and onto wild Ugandan soil in December 2021, after draining my savings and leaving everything I knew behind, I had no idea what the Lord had in store. The outpouring of grace, the interior freedom, the sense of purpose, and the love I have received and given are just a few of the blessings brought about by my life as a Bugumiro missionary so far. It was all so worth it. God can't be outdone in generosity. Even when it hurts, even when it doesn't make sense, follow Him. There isn't a moment that I have regretted saying yes to this unpredictable, transformative adventure. He is faithful.
  Brooke Frisch