My husband, Paul, and I took our first mission trip to Uganda in 2008. It re-energized me in ways I hadn’t felt in years, and I fell in love with the small rural community where we established our business. I got a tremendous sense of God’s presence as I walked the green walkways with the cheerful children. The event had such an impact on me that on the last day of our cruise, when we gathered with the villagers, I publicly promised that we would return the following year and every year after that. Unfortunately, Paul’s experience was not at all like mine. He’d been assigned to work in a one-room roadside “clinic” with no other doctors, no power, no running water, and no medical supplies other than what he’d brought with him in his suitcase as a family physician. He did, however, have an inexhaustible supply of patients, many of whom had come long distances to seek treatment for a range of symptoms and significant medical issues. Paul would work late at night with a flashlight, then get up the next day and repeat the process. He felt like he was using a squirt gun to put out a forest fire. Infrastructure, supplies, order, and predictability are all important to my husband. I’m an old hippie who has never been afraid of a challenge. Paul was not pleased when I told him that we would be returning to Uganda for the next few years. He was furious with me, to be sure (and rightfully so). When Paul and I got home and realized what had transpired on the trip, we realized we had an issue that was both solved and unsolved.