My kids. All I can think about is my kids.

I want to hold them again.

His Plan.

Psalm 116:7

"Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord has been good to you."

Oh, the Lord has been so good to me.

Already I am a quarter of the way done with my first semester of my Sophomore year here at Hope. It's crazy how fast time seems to go here. Lately I've been so caught up in all the things that life seems to throw at you in college: homework, tests, quizzes, the endless amount of activities and clubs that all want your attention. Quite frankly, it has picked me up off my solid tracks and driven me a bit mad.

As usual though, God has a way of taking my face in my hands and staring me straight in the eyes during these times. He forces me to pause while He whispers quietly, "Be still and know that I am God. For crying out loud Em, slow down and be with Me."

So this weekend I did just that, and in reflecting over all that God has given me lately, and all that He has shown me even just in the past couple weeks, my soul feels at rest knowing just how good He really is to me.

Last weekend, God reunited me with my friend Steph, my friend I met in Uganda who I know has been given to me as a gift from God, my partner in ministry. There are truly no words to describe the overwhelming joy my heart feels when I'm around her. Sometimes my heart feels too small for the love & fellowship we share, and it simply feels like it will burst at any moment. We both really needed to see each other this weekend, as we both needed reminders of different things. I needed reminding that I need to just be, just relax and trust that God will lead me the right way and in His timing. I needed to take things day by day, and not make any plans, but simply enjoy the blessings He is showering upon me. I needed reminding that I need to just live. How many times will God have to show me this simple lesson before I truly understand it? Oh I crave to live like that again, simple & daily in His Presence. When she's around, it's easier. I'm working on it.

There have been many things that have been confusing me lately, and instead of confronting all of these with God, I have put them off until I have time to do that. I was finally so confused and desperate that I had to take this weekend "off" to just sit and be with God and let Him speak, and that's exactly what He did. It's amazing the Peace that has settled in my heart, just from listening to the simple truths that God had been speaking to me all along, I just had not trusted in Him, myself, or His messengers.

This year, God has shown me that He wants to teach me how to be with Him, living daily in His Presence, enjoying His blessings. But more than that, He wants to teach me how to better love others, by teaching me how to better love Him. He wants to show me more of who He is, and how His Heart works, so that someday I can love others in the same way. He wants me to experience true love, true Godly Love, and He wants me to give that same Love in return. He wants to teach me how to Love, and how to be loved. He has called me to community and fellowship, because He knows that is where I experience my greatest blessings. I am honored and humbled by this call, though eagerly I accept it. He has placed some incredible people in my life to teach me all of these things, and for them I am more than blessed. This is why God has given me Steph, specifically for this purpose. Just her presence teaches me love more than she knows, and just her presence allows me to understand where God's Spirit is moving me in that moment. She teaches me how to Love and understand God and others better, just by being with me. I love her so much for that, and praise God daily for His Provision of her in my life.

[Today, Daddy, I have fallen in love with You all over again. Thank-you.]

back to beginnings

Hope College Campus Ministries have been such a huge blessing to me lately. But tonight the Gathering, the first Gathering of the year, really spoke to me. It was a topic I thought I knew like the back of my hand.

Genesis 1.

The Creation story, the time when life began, the very first chapter of the Bible.

It's amazing how alive the Bible really is. How it speaks something new every time you read it.

Something interesting I learned this week is that the Bible was written to be studied in fellowship, not to be read on our own.

I am excited for my Bible Study this year, as we will be studying Genesis in pure fellowship, which at first I was wary about, and now I realize how perfectly God has planned this. I don't know what will come out of it yet, but I know that the beginning in itself has already opened my eyes a LOT.

But, that being said, what did this chapter, the very first chapter of the Bible remind me of?

I need to rest. I need to rest in His Presence above all else. In His Peace which passes understanding, because only He can make me feel whole, at peace. Also, I need to listen. He still wants to speak things to me, to us, and speak things into being within and around us. We are made in His image. We are a creative people, created from the dust of the earth in order that we would continue to create. Always connected with nature, yet always connected to Him.

So that's what I'm going to try to do.

Rest & Listen. Create & Enjoy Fellowship.

Praise God? Amen.

changing slowly...

I wish I could bottle up the feeling I get sitting in Dimnent Chapel listening to a particularly profound person saying some particularly profound things. I wish I could bottle up the butterflies that traveled from the pit of my stomach all the way up my throat as I saw the first "Welkom to Holland" sign as I entered the campus I love. I wish I could bottle up the feeling when I'm walking through campus and feel particularly blessed. I wish I could bottle up the energy I get from all the amazing people I have here. I wish I could bottle up that first hug when I see a friend on campus, that feeling that I'm home.

I think my home is in many places, or maybe my home is everywhere I make it to be. I'm not sure, but I do know that I have felt at home in some of the strangest and most different of places. But I am grateful and treasure each "home," knowing that I don't deserve to feel so blessed, but I do because I have a God who likes to spoil me.

Since being back on campus, it's true I miss Uganda so much. I think about it constantly, I hear things that remind me of it and wish there was someone in my company who would understand the giggle I mutter under my breath, I see their faces in my mind all the time, I touch my bracelets, remembering each set of hands that tied those on me and send a quick prayer for them up to Heaven. However, I am filled with joy at being back here. I have needed this place, and this is exactly where I need to be right now.

I could list all the things that have blessed me since being here, but I think I will just leave it at that. I am blessed to be here in this company, and in this community of believers.

p.s. One particular morning when I was missing Uganda, God provided me with a friend. An international student from Uganda. We are already good friends and have shared many stories, and we have plans to share more stories over chapatis and rolexes that he has offered to make me.

(Thank-you Lord, I love You.)

images.

For those of you who have been waiting for pictures, I tried to do a purely picture post, but to be honest I cannot choose only a select few. I have posted my favorites on facebook, and even they ended up being 6 albums of 200 pictures each, because there is so much that each picture says. Here is the link to my facebook albums, I will make them public so even those of you who aren't on facebook can see them. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. There's not many words to explain each picture, but I feel like they do an adequate job of explaining themselves.

album #1: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018710&id=1270470169

(life in Ntinda, Kampala, Uganda; Kyambogo College; Davemi Infant & Nursery School; Victory Primary School; Kyampisi; and Acholi Squatters.)

album #2: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018743&id=1270470169

(Nsambya Babies Home, Basketball Ministry at Victory City Church, adventures in Downtown Kampala, airport drop-off/last moments, and Sarah's Introduction Ceremony.)

album #3: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018760&id=1270470169

(Katalemwa Children's Hospital, Naguru Remand Home, Sanyu Babies Home, and Sarah's Introduction Ceremony.)

album #4: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018761&id=1270470169

(Acholi Squatters, Kids In Need Orphanage, Modern Infants Nursery & Primary School, Good Choice Infant & Primary School, Kyambogo College, Ndere Cultural Centre Traditional Dance Show, King Solomon Secondary School, Basketball Ministry at Bethany High School, School for the Deaf, Portraits of some Ugandans, Steph's Surprise Party, adventures in downtown Kampala & the craft market.)

album #5: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018763&id=1270470169

(Sarah's Introduction Ceremony, and Safari)

album #6: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2018767&id=1270470169

(Gulu and Luweero Missions)

adjusting.

So I've been back in America for a little over a week now, and there is much that has hit me very hard, but at the same time there is a peace that I can only explain as His Presence.

Well, first of all, walking through the Detroit airport was incredibly scary, and I felt really weird as I watched the all-American families going about their days as if nothing had happened. When I was in Uganda, it felt as if there was no other world besides that place. Nothing else existed, and even if it did, it had stopped to watch and see the things I was seeing and feel the things I was feeling. But then I saw the poster families with their strollers and designer diaper bags, I saw girls in these teeny jean shorts spending how much money on a magazine? I wanted to slap the five-year-old who was throwing a temper tantrum because his dad wouldn't let him get the sucker he wanted. I also wanted to slap the old bitty on the plane who instead of asking politely if the person in her seat had the wrong seat, yelled at the stewardess, loud enough so the whole plane could hear her (it was a small plane) that someone was in her seat, as if she was just as mature as that little five-year-old. That was when I realized that for everyone else in the world, life went on. The people I was walking past, some would never know what I had seen, some will never even know that the things I've seen are real. That frustrated and saddened me, a lot.

However, I was very very blessed when I got to see my family at the airport, and on top of that one of my best friends from school Heidi was there. She had driven the three hours from her house to mine, and then took off a few days from work so she could be with me for a few days when I got home. I was floored. Something I have struggled with recently is the fact that in my life, I haven't had very many solid friends. Friends that I can count on to want the best for me, support me, who will love me regardless of what I say or do, and who will stay by my side for a long time. This was one of the reasons why it was so hard to leave my friends in Uganda, I didn't want them to just be another memory. But seeing Heidi at the airport, it's hard to describe how blessed I felt. I couldn't really hear because my ears hadn't popped yet, but apparently I screamed really loud, ran and gave her the biggest hug. In that hug, I simply looked heavenward and I could almost see Him just smiling at us saying, "This girl's here to stay, and she is a good friend to you. The others that I have gifted you with as well, and you know which ones have been given to you by Me, are here to stay too. They are my gift to you, enjoy them."

I said a quick prayer of thanks and began my story-telling.

In all, yes, I miss Uganda. I miss the way life is lived there. I love that lifestyle, and for some weird reason, I can honestly say that I know I will be back there someday. I don't know for how long, where, with who, or when but I can just tell that I will be back. I have to go back. I miss the people, I miss the culture, I miss my kids, oh man how I miss my kids. I have talked to people who are still in Uganda since I've been home, and there is one girl Riyanna, the 3-year-old neighbor kid, who I got very attached to. I would be outside in the compound and I would hear her yelling over the fence, "Emily, I want to come down and play!" I would let her down and we would just do the same thing over and over again, but she loved it. I loved that girl so much, I still love her so much. Apparently she has been saying my name now that I'm gone, and that just makes me want to board a plane tonight just to be able to hold her again and let her kiss my face. I miss my squatter kids, the place where my sponsor child Josephine lives, and all the times we would go over there and they would sing songs for us, praising God that we would take the time to visit them and love them.

At the same time, even though my heart desperately wants to be in all those places with all those kids, there is an unexplainable peace in my heart. I know those two months were exactly what I needed, and where I needed to be, and I know that going back to school in a few days and for the next 3 years is exactly what I'm supposed to do. They will always be in my heart, and hopefully I will be able to see them again, if not just to say that I remember them. But, for now, I am exactly where I need to be. I will be moving into school on the 25th and I could not be more excited. I now know that I have some amazing friends that I am eager to see, to listen to their stories, and tell them some of my own. I have some amazing professors that I am eager to have coffee with and discuss deep topics of life with. I am eager to start my classes, all of which (except for French) are classes for a Social Work major, and I am excited to see how I will like this and if this is what He has really planned out for me.

Their beautiful, joyful, faces and their incredible faith will always be in the back of my mind.

But today, today I need to pack for school and get ready for another year, another fresh start. Today I am taking the childlike faith that has inspired me for 2 months and practicing it. I am taking the hand of Jesus and letting Him take me on an adventure.

See you at school.

blessed.

-Tuesday, August 11^th: Well, this day was a very interesting day. It was definitely not ANYTHING like I expected it would be, but it was exactly what I needed.

Before I left for Uganda, God laid a few images on my heart that I have (foolishly) been searching to fulfill while I’ve been here. One of the first was that God laid it on my heart to help a girl who has been infected with AIDS get her Anti-Retroviral Drugs. On my second visit to Kyampisi Community Church, I helped out a friend with the Sunday school class, and one girl in particular named Madina clung to me the entire time. She would hold my hand, and sit in my lap, rest her head on my shoulder, but she refused to smile or respond to any of my attempts at Luganda. I asked one of the pastors what was wrong with her, if they could ask her what was going on. She didn’t really respond to them either, but they told me that she had been infected with AIDS and was ashamed. I immediately remembered the image God had laid on my heart, and eagerly awaited His provision in how I could help this little girl.

By my last week, it never came.

Instead of brushing it off, and letting God take care of it, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I scheduled a doctor’s appointment with an AIDS specialist and arranged for a Ugandan, a friend of mine, and I to go to Kyampisi and pick them up today, take them to Kampala for the doctor’s appointment, and take them back, hopefully with some ARVs. I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I was acting on God’s promptings. But truly, I was simply trying to make myself feel more fulfilled. This whole trip I’ve been frustrated by the fact that I feel like I haven’t truly done anything, even though now that I can look back on it, I know I did exactly what I was supposed to do. By taking this situation and following through with it, I felt like I could do it all on my own. That in itself should have sent up the red flag, the thought that I could do anything on my own.

We left for the village late, as is expected in Africa, though this was a bit of a harder situation. We had to take a taxi into Kampala, which took a lot longer than usual because the conductor kept stopping to pick up passengers. Then we took another taxi to Kyampisi, which took a long while to leave because we had to sit in the taxi park until the taxi was full. We arrived in Kyampisi ten minutes before our appointment was scheduled, so we had to call the doctor and reschedule for a time that was two hours later than expected, even getting my Ugandan friend to understand that we wouldn’t make the appointment in time was a task. I simply felt like everything was going wrong, and the entire car ride I was simply praying for God to take over, for God’s hand in this. But the peace I usually feel when God takes control never came. I now know it was because His hand was never in the plans I made, He never asked me to do anything, but He was going to teach me a lesson through it. I was on my own as far as this was concerned, and scared out of my wits. We met with Madina and her mom on the roadside, and she took us to see her house. I was floored when I saw her bedroom, one twin bed for the mother, and the concrete floor with some straw mats for the three children. I had decided to get them some mattresses and a mosquito net beforehand, and seeing this made me all the more determined to make that plan happen as well.

We met the kids, and I realized my first mistake: I hadn’t thought of the entire family. If one child has AIDS, it’s most likely that all of them plus the mother has AIDS. However, I simply could not afford to take them all, so I just stuck with the original plan, feeling slightly stupider and more naïve as we went to the main road to get a taxi.

We took a series of interesting rides into the city, where we were 3 hours late for our original appointment. Luckily, the doctor let us in and filled us in on the details after getting some information from the mother.

This was when we found out that no one in the family had ever been tested for HIV/AIDS, which changed a lot of things, and created a lot more complications. We had basically just informed them that the community they lived in assumed they had AIDS, possibly to spread rumors so as to “shun” them from the village, and possibly just by merely judging too quickly and with not very much knowledge. The doctor told us she would do a simple positive or negative test for both mother and daughter, and if they were negative we would be free to go. However, if they were positive, they would have to run another series of a lot more expensive tests than I was willing to pay for, they would have to attend HIV counseling sessions, then every 6 months after receiving their ARVs from the government they would have to come back for more testing which would cost them a lot more money than they could afford. So, if they were positive, out of sheer guilt, I would be basically forced into sponsoring this family, and paying their medical bills, an expense I could not afford. I was praying the entire time waiting for the results, and God is good as the results came back negative. We learned that the symptoms that the girl was showing were all from malnutrition. The doctor gave us some forms that proved that they were HIV negative, in order to quell any more spreading rumors, and sent us on our way. We dropped them off at the taxi park with enough money to get them home and left the city.

Right then, my stomach felt queasy. I could tell this was a lesson God was teaching me in a very harsh way, a little slap across the face if you will. I tried to ignore it the entire way home, but in my experience, when God wants to get your attention, He is very good at making you feel like crap until you face the facts. Steph and I were starving after our chaotic day, so we decided to walk down the street to get some rolexes (no, not the watch, it is my favorite Ugandan “snack” you can buy on the side of the road, basically a very greasy breakfast burrito.). Now, this girl is very good at being God’s little vessel for me when she needs to be. However, it was a bit harsher than usual because I truly believe that at that moment God really wanted to hit me upside the head, which she thoroughly delivered.

That night helped me release a lot of the tears and frustrations I’ve been bottling up this entire trip. It all started with thinking about the lessons God was trying to teach me through that day, and then continued on to the heartbreak I feel every single time I walk out of the house. A small rip each time I talk to someone who touches my heart, each time I hold an orphaned child, each time I witness maturity equal to my own, if not more, in a child half my age, all of these rips I have been trying to hold together with what little thread I can find, just so I can attempt to hold myself together. Tonight, they all tore open, and it’s about damn time. It felt so good to finally feel the hurt I have been holding inside of me the past two months and let it out, giving it all to God. I have some amazing friends who through my incessant, disgusting, ugly tears brought me tea and simply sat with me and talked with me when I was ready. They are a bigger blessing, even just for that night, than they will ever know.

So what did God teach me through all of this? For starters: humility, lots of it. He showed me that I am far too prideful in my spiritual maturity. That I have taken too much pride in the growth God has started in me this year and that I’ve forgotten that I still can’t effectively do anything for His Kingdom on my own. I still need Him and will always need Him. That God is not asking me to do anything. He has simply asked me to follow Him, to use my gifts to help those around me, and to just be with Him. This is something that God had started to teach me before I left for Uganda, but I kind of ignored because I wasn’t exactly sure how to just be with God, and that didn’t seem all too exciting. But I believe that this is exactly what He has called me to for the rest of my life. To just be with Him, wherever that may be. I can’t say I still understand it fully, because I'm not sure that any lesson is ever complete, but I am enjoying learning what this means right now, I am enjoying just being with God, recognizing His blessings, and living presently and fully in His Presence. [There it is again, gosh I love this.]

Lastly, that He will provide. It was very funny because after getting back, I simply could not find a good time to order the mattresses for Madina’s family and I was just praying for God’s provision. It was then that our director Sarah walked in the room saying that she had bought some mattresses for the sponsored kids and bought exactly 2 more than she needed, which was exactly the amount of mattresses I was going to buy for Madina’s family. I had to giggle at God’s snarky comment: “See Em? THIS is my provision…” He was teaching me that if He wants something done, He will get it done in whatever way He can. If He wants me to be a part of it, then He is going to throw it in my face so much that I simply can’t ignore it.

So no, this does not seem like the most pleasant of my days in Africa. But, don’t let the tears and chaos fool you, I think it was probably one of my favorite days this entire trip, a day I will always remember, a day I will always think of and smile and shake my head, because God is so good in so many ways.

flying back...

So I’m sitting here at the Amsterdam airport, realizing I haven’t updated in a very long while. The reason for this is because I have been wanting to spend this last week with the people and in the country I have fallen in love with as much as possible, without feeling like I have to update my blog. I have just wanted to enjoy life.

Also, I read my last post just to get my bearings on what all I would like to cover / the last thing I wrote about, and realized that I still have a lot to learn about letting go of my plans and that this might be a lesson I will be trying to learn my entire life.

Disclaimer: this post may not make much sense, and might be a little scattered because as of right now I can’t really figure out what’s going on in my head.

Anyways, this week we did our usual projects, and I went to most of them, all while having the most amazing time with the most amazing people. It has truly been a blessing to meet and be friends with all of them. There is something so special and unique about living with people who are all striving towards one purpose, who have one goal, one passion, one love: Christ. I feel like this is what makes summer camps so life-changing, mission trips so unique and inspiring. It is on these “getaways” that you don’t have to search very hard to find someone you really grow to absolutely love, someone you want to know and talk to about everything for the rest of your life, much less simply find someone you’re compatible with. The people who are living right beside you are the people you've been searching for your entire life, the people who's passions and dreams match your own and make you even more excited to carry on with life and fulfill these dreams, to live passionately. This is a feeling I already miss. I miss waking up and walking through the cockroach-infested kitchen, and while preparing my breakfast getting hugs from all my amazing friends and answering their questions about my night, positive they all genuinely would care if something had went wrong. I miss the beat of the African drums calling us all to worship before we humble ourselves in serving our God. I miss the feeling of shamelessness as we all moved and sang in whichever way the Spirit led, because we all felt that same tug on our hearts. I miss being at the projects and catching one of my teammates watching me with proud looks on their faces, or capturing my precious moments on their cameras, as I did the same to them. We really loved each other, and saw so much joy and love in the work we were doing that we couldn't help but be encouraging and supportive of one another.

This is automatically the first thing I missed as I walked out of the comfort of my beautiful, amazing, inspiring friend's arms and into the cold, westernized airport. This is the first thing I thought about as the tears fell from my face while reading the letters that they had wrote to me.

I'm about to board my next flight from Amsterdam to Chicago so this is the last thing I will leave you with. I will update about the best and worst day of my 2 months later, and probably a week after I have been back I will update with my thoughts on America, we'll see how that goes.

[Nkwagala Uganda and all that comes with it.]

I've never felt so honored.

In the morning I went to Nsambya Babies Home where we carried split logs from a pile behind the building up to a room behind the kitchen. It was definitely quite the task, but we all worked together really well. Plus, I needed some time to think over some things, and real manual labor was the perfect opportunity to do that. We played with the kids a little bit before we left to go back for lunch, and for some reason I was really tired and, like I mentioned earlier, had a lot to think about so I was content holding a sleeping baby and pretending like I couldn't play with the toddlers because of her. I'm not sure if that was selfish or not, but I really couldn't handle the crazy kids that day.

After lunch we had our planning meeting for the week. This was the start to my reality check that I was leaving. They began planning for Saturday, and asked me to help out with something they are doing that day, I had to decline because I would have already left. After the meeting one of the Ugandans came up to me and gave me a hug. He said, “I completely forgot you were leaving. You’ve been here so long, and you fit in here so well, that I just kind of assumed you would always be here.” This absolutely stunned me. This is something I have been questioning the entire time I have been here. Could I live here? Would this be a good fit for me? I was absolutely honored that a Ugandan had said this to me. I know someday I will be back. Being home, and seeing this life outside of Uganda, I still like my life and know that I am not in Uganda permanently right now for a reason. But I know that I was made to be there eventually, or at least that I was made to love being there.

I’ll go back someday, I know it.

westernization

This morning we all went to church at KPC Central (Kampala Pentecostal Church, now called Watoto Church.) This is a church founded by a husband and wife pastoral team from Canada, and I can’t quite decide if I liked it now that I’ve fallen in love with village churches. The worship was amazing, and reminded me of the Vineyard in Holland, a church I absolutely love. However, there were some points within the service that really struck a chord within me. I can’t pinpoint it exactly, but in talking to others who felt the same way, they were thinking it sounded like we were being arrogant westerners. However, this church has started babies homes and orphanages all over Uganda, which is amazing. The thing that really made me angry though, was when they played a video in the service telling everyone how many billion shillings they spent building a new church. It just boggles my mind that a church that sees and recognizes the dire need for orphanages and babies homes, & etc. would even dare to suggest spending that much money on another church, and then tell all the Ugandans in the congregation, many of which are financially suffering themselves, that they were using that money to build a church that looks like America. A church that has the lighting effects, that has very expensive video and entertainment equipment, making it more of a show and less of a worship service.

I was talking to a very wise friend about this, and she showed me that she believes, and I agree with her, that church is supposed to be an act of service. Just as much as going on a mission trip, as volunteering in the community, all the things that society has labeled under “service” and has thus limited our use of that sacred term. That the bottom line is we should be worshipping God in the best way possible, that we should sacrifice our time, money, hearts, and lives, to Christ in that time. In order to do this, do we really need all the flashy lights and shiny equipment? Are we really that selfish that in order to enjoy worshipping God we need to be visually entertained?

I don't know, I guess I just wished I would have gone to Kyampisi for my last church service, but I still had a nice devotion time in the house on Sunday and ended up spending some more time with the people I have grown to know and love as if we have known each other all of our lives.

getting lost in the city

Today was my last free day in Uganda.

Steph, Amy, and I left in the afternoon for my last trip to the city to get some gifts from the craft market and have a good Indian meal. This was quite interesting because we were meeting the Ugandan who was going to help us at the craft market, so we had to navigate ourselves to the city. We ran into one of the other Ugandan volunteers on our way to catch a taxi, and he told us where we should get off the taxi and how much it should cost. We thanked him and grabbed the first taxi that didn’t charge us about 600 shillings extra because we are white. When we got off at our stop, Steph began to lead because she knew the way. I was thinking of a different craft market, but knowing my directional skills, I simply trusted whoever decided to lead. However, Amy believed she knew where the other one was and that was the one Jayan was meeting us. We knew Amy’s directional skills around Uganda were probably as good as mine, but for some reason we let her lead the way. We ended up walking circles around Kampala. She was convinced there was a craft market underneath the mall, and we probably walked around the mall 6 times before finally deciding that we should have followed Steph. We called Jayan and asked us to meet us at the mall, and once she did, she took us on a taxi to the craft market we were headed to in the first place. Our trip took about 2 hours longer than necessary, however it makes for a pretty hilarious story. (I love you Amy!) At the craft market I got some last minute gifts, though it is always hard for me to shop there because everything is so cool and unique that it makes me want it all so I’m sure I’m going to regret not getting a few things, but oh well. We then went back to the mall, seriously, I probably could tell you my way around Kampala, or at least the space between this craft market and the mall like the back of my hand. We went to the Indian restaurant that I absolutely love and sat at this awesome table that was on a raised platform so when we were waiting for our food we could lay down and lounge, and then we sat cross-legged to eat. We sat there for a very long time, soaking in the goodness of a nice meal with boneless chicken (amazing!), surrounded by the best company anyone could ask for, and the interesting, inspiring, hilarious, heartbreaking, and humbling stories of life.

We went back to the house, satisfied with our Kampala adventure and the wonderful company, even though we all knew it would be my last.

so blessed.

I.  Am.  So.  Blessed.

Basically the past few days have just been filled with blessings, and I am now actually taking the time to notice them.  This living presently in His Presence thing is really working out well.  By not thinking about tomorrow, the next hour, the next five years, I can simply enjoy the blessings that He has absolutely lavished upon me in that moment.  It also allows me to practice a discipline of daily thanksgiving, something I thought was exhausting when He laid that on my heart a few months ago, but something that is now second nature.  How can Inot thank Him?

I have just simply had some amazing conversations lately in which I can only look to the heavens and laugh, all the while thinking, "thanks for that."  

Jimmie, the Tutsi man from Rwanda who has seen and experienced more hurt than I can imagine.  The fact that I got to hear his story, that he felt comfortable enough to share that much with me, makes me feel so incredibly privileged and encouraged.  He shared with me some interesting things about work I could do in Rwanda, and I know I will see him again someday.  Even the fact that people feel comfortable enough to share their testimonies with me is an absolute miracle.  

It's hard to put this feeling into words.  A feeling in which I am rejoicing for every moment that comes my way, my heart filled with joy.  A feeling of such joy coupled with a heartbreaking tear that gets larger as my departure nears.  My eyes fill with tears at the most RANDOM times, and yet there is still joy.  Again, words don't really cut it for this feeling, but I will update more as the plans I have made are finished.

All you have to do...

So I’ve decided I’m going to do things a little differently for the next few weeks with this blog.  I’m simply going to write what I feel is necessary.  Even writing about writing my blog feels a little silly, but I do feel it is necessary to explain.  I tend to fall into this bad habit of comparing myself to others, a lot.  So when I saw some friends of mine blogging every day, and after reading their detailed accounts of their days, I started to change my blogging to look more like theirs.  It was recently pointed out to me by a wise friend (you know who you are) that I should simply write what I feel like writing, however I feel like writing it.  So I am going to return to that.  Praise God?  Amen.

So here I am.  I am sitting here, at the kitchen table that wobbles every time I shift the weight of my hands, causing my computer to slide to an almost fatal crash.  I smell my hair, still soapy because a bucket of water sometimes just doesn’t get it all out.  I look at my feet, red from the dust even though I just washed them this morning.  I glance around at the few people who are left in this holy house, absolutely loving the company of each and every one of them.  I will miss each unique personality more than they know.  I eye the Ugandans, who are all hilarious, beautiful, wise, generous, and kind in their own right.  I sip the Mirinda Fruity out of the dirty, used, glass bottle, my new favorite soda, and wonder how I will ever survive without it at home.  My head bobbles like a doll as the crowded van, 18 people squished in a van that is supposed to hold 8, rolls over the speed bumps, potholes, and trash that cover the red dirt roads.  On our way to the projects, I look out the windows and watch the scenery, both beautiful and heartbreaking, pass before me, realizing that I won’t see this anywhere else.  I play like I’m 3 years old with Rihanna and Jeremiah, the neighborhood kids who I dread leaving, and take mental pictures of their beautiful smiles and hilarious jokes.  I hold Leticia and am in awe at her intelligence and beauty.  I laugh at Jovan, a 12-year-old boy who looks like an old man in an awkward teenage body with a laugh that tops any I’ve ever heard.  Again, I can’t bring myself to let go when I hold onto them.  I sit outside the compound and run to help another neighbor girl carry a jerry can filled with water up the hill to her house.  I go to the projects we’ve planned for the day and blink back the wet salty tears from the corners of my eyes as I watch these teenagers, children, worshipping with all their hearts, minds, bodies, and souls.  Their eyes are closed, their hands raised, many are holding each other’s hands.  It’s the only support and comfort they have. 

This is what I’m doing now.  Today.

I think I’m beginning to understand how to live presently.  Finally. 

There are many things that God is providing absolutely amazingly that I will be doing in my last few days, and I think I’ll tell them as they come.  However, today has been amazing, and difficult.  Today I have enjoyed Uganda, I have enjoyed my company, my brothers & sisters in Christ, the conversations I’ve had, the stories I’ve heard, the children I’ve held, all of it. 

Though my heart breaks for my friend at the Remand Home, Medina.  She just came to the Remand Home two weeks ago, and only opened up to me today.  Her story is absolutely heartbreaking, but near impossible to help.  She told me she did not commit any crime, and she was in the Remand Home for care and protection services.  After her mom died, she went to live with her Aunt and Step-dad who started to sell her for prostitution.  She escaped and went to the police, who sent her to live at the Remand Home until she could find a stable home.  All I can do is comfort her and be her friend, I wish I could have met her earlier so I could have more time with her. 

Here is a taste of my trip:

Lydia, shy and sweet with a passion to live a life deserving of her Jesus.  Josephine, completely crazy and kind at the same time.  Eunice, who acts as a mother of an entire slum, though she’s only in secondary school, and a Bible Study leader for all the kids in the neighborhood.  Stella, with a faith that exceeds most people I know.  Rachel, with her diva attitude and fat face that just cries to be kissed.  Jessica, with her love to be held and touched as she smiles with pure contentment.  Irene with a joy and love for seeing me that touches my heart, though I long for her to go home.  Medina with a story to cause a grown man to cry, but a craving to be hugged and loved on.  Teddy, the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen who simply sits in my arms and giggles at the faces I make at her.  Shalom, smart and humble with a heart that shares with all the other orphans, even though they usually take advantage of her.  Peter, also incredibly intelligent with a joy and faith that astounds me every time I see him, despite the fact that he is orphaned and does not live in a stable home. 

I feel there are so many more people I’ve missed who have touched my heart here, though I cannot think of them all. These kids, these personalities, these problems, these encouragements, these hearts, all of which are being mended by our God bit by bit.  In return, mine has been broken, but I would gladly and eagerly break my heart, in order to mend theirs.  It has finally hit me that these kids we play with at the Babies Homes don’t just come there to play with us, they live there because someone abandoned their beautiful faces.  It has hit me that the kids at the Remand Home have been there for two months, and will probably be there for a good portion of their lives if they are guilty, or even if they do not have the means to get back home.  The teenagers at Kids In Need are street children, they have no other place to call home, but they have no other options.  The kids at Katalemwa are in daily pain and will be staying in the hospital with sever disfigurements and deformities for a good chunk of life.  Even the kids at the schools are suffering trying to pay school fees, fight diseases, have enough money for a decent meal, and watch over their brothers and sisters. 

Again, I feel it.  Frustration that I can’t do anything to ease their physical and material suffering.  But this time, this feeling does not come alone, it is coupled with an incredible feeling, that of HOPE.  By being with them, they see a hope for themselves.  With prayer, our God can reach out to them and hold them.  He can show them the way that will fulfill their purposes.  He can do it.

The last thing I do each day, and the first thing I do each morning, is read a picture that a friend sent to me, which is now taped to the wall beside my bed:

All you have to do is SOMETHING.

I have done something.  I know it.

Birthday Bonanza!

Sorry for the last post, I was literally falling asleep on my computer because I was so tired, I will probably do another more in-depth post later because I do have a lot of things to say. 

However, this weekend was seriously a blast.  We found out that it was my friend Steph’s birthday on Sunday, so Amy (Ireland) and I decided to throw her a little surprise bash for her 22nd.  We planned on Wednesday to leave early in the morning on Saturday to go to an amusement park in downtown Kampala.  We made her some cards with poems in them to give her hints as to what we were doing, and she seriously had no idea what was going on, it was hilarious.  

On Saturday, we left around 10 a.m. for the park, it was called Didi’s World, and we got into the car and gave Steph the last note before we blindfolded her on the drive to the park.  We were told it was an amusement / water park, but we later found out it was mainly for kids 3-12 years of age, which was pretty funny.  We drove there while she was blindfolded and kept making her do silly things like duck for the policeman, wave to men walking on the streets, pretend she was being kidnapped, blow kisses to a taxi-van full of people, etc.  We finally got there, and kept her blindfold on through getting her wristband and walking through crowds of little kids all the way to the center of the park.  It was so fun to take her blindfold off and have the surprise be a success.  

We rode a few rides, which was hilarious with the Ugandans: Jayan, Diana, and Collin.  Even though the rides were nothing for us, this is all they’ve ever known.  So we went on one of those carnival rides which look like a big Viking ship and swing back and forth decently high, and one of the Ugandans was crying and couldn’t watch, while another had to run to the “loo” right afterwards because she thought she was going to be sick.  It was absolutely hilarious.  

Most awkward moment of the day though?  Swimming, definitely.  We wanted to go on the waterslide before we left the park, so we got into the pool, when I say pool though, it was about 15 x 10 meters and maybe 4.5 feet deep.  This in itself caused about 80 Ugandan children to flock to the side of the pool to watch the mzungus swimming.  It felt like we were a freak show.  So we went down the slide once, after another frustrating experience with the guy running the slide, and then just swam in the pool a little bit.  It was funny though because one of the MSTs who came with us got so frustrated at one kid who was staring at her, that she splashed her.  This gave us all the grand idea of doing cannonballs and jumps to splash the kids around us to make them leave, which didn’t really work, but it was fun while it lasted.  We finally started heading back at the end of a really fun day of simply acting like we were 5 years old.  

Then on Sunday we went to a church called Nakawa Baptist Church, which I later found out was the church that some Ugandans who randomly came and volunteered with us for a few days went to.  It was really fun because it was a children’s service, so they did a lot of stuff with the kids, which was absolutely hilarious.  However, it got really hot under the tin roof and I started to feel a little dizzy from a mix of dehydration and heat, but it was still a good time.  We then came back home and Steph had to do some video footage for the organization, which was nerve-wracking and exciting at the same time.  She is really talented.  

We ended the weekend and the birthday celebrations with some good old-fashioned ice cream, back-rubs, life talks, and sodas.  In all it was a pretty fantastic weekend. 

a typical week, for the most part.

Wednesday: went to Katalemwa Children's Hospital in the morning where my team was on kitchen and cleaning duty.  My friend Amy and I ended up pulling weeds from the sandbox in the play area and hoeing the sand so that it was soft for the kids to play in.  That was actually really fun because the work was very repetitive and helped to just relax my mind.  Plus, there was a really cute boy who was playing in the sand while we were pulling weeds and such who ended up following us around after we were finished.  Once we were done, we went into the classroom to see the kids and I got to pray for a few of them, which is always a blessing.  We then did a program at a secondary school, which to be honest, I can't really remember.

Thursday:  went to Nsambya Babies Home early in the morning, and this day I felt really sick.  I tried to help out and clean the area, but I just kept getting nauseated so I sat out and played with whatever kids came up to me.  I was grateful when one of the "mothers" placed a young 3 1/2 month old baby in my arms with a bottle.  It kept the other kids away from me, and I still got to hold the most beautiful baby I've ever seen.  Her name is Theresa, but everyone calls her Teddy.  She's got light skin, and big brown eyes, and a really soft, curly, afro.  She was just so content no matter what, and was unbelievably adorable.  I really love her a lot, and wish I could take her home with me.  We then went to the Remand Home after lunch, which is something I look forward to every week.  The worship was, as usual, amazing, and we ended up doing a skit about HIV/AIDS and then splitting up into groups to answer questions.  The questions were so difficult.  Many of them would ask why God wouldn't take away their AIDS if they became a Christian or why they had gotten it, and we simply couldn't answer most of them.  I did get to speak with Medina however, and I gave her a Bible.  I am hoping to get to speak with her more in the next couple weeks I have left.

Friday: went to Kids In Need orphanage and hung out with the kids after doing a quick program and some games.  There is one kid there named Peter who absolutely astounds me.  He is probably about 12 years old, but he has the most amazing heart.  He always dances to the worship songs with all he has, he loves to talk with us and his English is really good, I taught him Egyptian Ratscrew last week, and this week he pulled me aside and dealt me half a deck of cards, asking to play the game.  He really remembered very well, and beat me twice again.  It's hard to explain the character of this incredible young boy, especially since I'm incredibly tired right now, but I just always look forward to seeing him.  

SAFARI!

Well, to put it briefly, safari was absolutely amazing.  It was exactly what I needed.

There was a group of 9 of us (including the driver) who went this weekend, all of which (except for maybe one or two) I haven’t had the chance, or taken the opportunity, to get to know very well.  So I was definitely nervous, but also excited at the same time because I could tell that this experience would really bring us closer, even if only a little bit.  It ended up being a lot more than that, and I made a friend who I hope, and pray, will be there forever.  I’ll explain more about that later though. 

We left early in the morning on Sunday and drove the absolutely GORGEOUS 6-hour drive to Murchison Falls National Park.  Seriously, the drive itself was incredible.  The scenery and the jokes we shared just really relaxed me right away.  It felt like such a luxurious vacation.  (Thanks Mom!)  We stopped in Masindi, a small village town, for lunch, and it was so nice to have some recognizable food that I would honestly want in the States.  A real cheeseburger and french fries.  Seriously, every time I leave the country, this is what I crave, and it was amazing to have that after a month of being here without it.  We then continued on to the final two hours of our drive, and started heading into the park.  On our way to the hotel, we were following a car and we watched him swerve off the incredibly bumpy dirt road, hit a ditch, start to flip causing all four-wheels to leave the ground, before smashing into a tree.  I didn’t see it happening, I just saw the car smashed around the tree after it happened, but nonetheless, it was definitely scary and a huge reminder that every minute we have here is a gift.  Luckily, the driver was the only one in the car, and he was completely fine, just a little shaken. 

Before we went to the hotel, we arrived at the point where we were going to hike down to see Murchison Falls.  We got out and began hiking uphill first, to be able to see the falls from the top of a cliff.  The view was incredible.  I had a very familiar feeling in this very unfamiliar place.  I felt the same way I felt when a few good friends and I went to the Bowl during Spring Semester and ate dinner while watching the sunset.  Total peace.  I don’t know that I can completely explain it, but I was completely at peace.  The verse and song that ran through my head the entire day, and in fact, the entire weekend was John 3:8, and the song “Wherever the Wind Blows” by Pillar.

 “The wind blows wherever it pleases.  You hear it’s sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.  So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” 

Every time I would start to get anxious, I would simply close my eyes and listen to the sound of the breeze.  I would feel the goose bumps rising on my arms, I felt enveloped in the wind, a part of it, and as the wind passed over me, my anxiety left with it. 

We took a bunch of pictures at the top of this cliff, and it was really fun because the girl I have made friends with is just as big of a photo geek as I am, probably bigger, so she helped me out a lot.  Then we took a hike down the cliff to the bottom of the River Nile so we could get some more shots of the falls.  It was really cool to just sit on a rock in the middle of the Nile, looking in awe at His incredible Creation.  I am so blessed that I got to do that.  We then took the terrible trek back up the cliff, which nearly took my breath away, and not in the way that the beauty of the falls did.  I got to follow my friend around while she did some video and in doing that I got some pretty cool shots myself.  It was really fun to finally have someone who I could lag behind the group with in order to get a perfect shot. 

We left soon after and checked into the hotel, and it seriously looked like a honeymoon spot.  We had one “hut” per two people that had two beds and a shelf set and mirror inside, and a bathhouse outside.  My friend and I stayed in hut #2, otherwise called “Simba.”  It was so much fun!   On the drive up, this girl and I discussed how we were both really big cuddlers, which pretty much sealed the deal on our friendship for me.  That was when we decided to room together, which was a really great decision because I got to hear a really cool testimony and gain an amazing friend who has now become probably one of the closest friends I have made here.   

The next day we woke up really early for breakfast and headed for the ferry that would take us across the Nile for the game ride, meaning the ride where we would see all the animals.  Once we got across the river, we all piled into the van after popping the roof up so that we could all sit on the roof in order to be able to see everything around us a lot better.  This in itself made my weekend.  I got to sit on the top of a safari van, while driving through the African grasslands, with a view of the Nile and various African animals in their natural habitat.  Excuse me if this whole post is completely cheesy, but it was absolutely amazing.  Again, the wind against my face, pushing my hair behind my ears, the stillness of the scenery, the feeling of my bare feet folded underneath my legs on top of the safari van, the absolute freedom as I lifted my head and hands to the sky while driving down the dirt road through the reservation, was extremely exhilarating and peaceful at the same time.  Again, my adventurous spirit soars. 

We saw everything from water buffalos, to giraffes, hippos, crocodiles, elephants, birds, antelopes, warthogs, and gazelles.  It was amazing.  We then boarded another boat that took us down the Nile near the falls, which was where we saw the hippos, and I took some really great pictures of the Nile.  We went back to the hotel and took a swim in the pool, yes the pool, it wasn’t anything like an American pool, but it felt luxurious despite the horseflies nested in the jets that were above the water level because of the leak in the bottom of the pool.  Our last day we just drove home, stopping for a decent lunch once again, and returned to the house. 

This weekend was everything I needed.  The Lord provided me with a weekend devoted to drawing closer to Him.  I honestly felt refreshed and renewed, and coming back to the house was exciting because I was really eager to get back into our ministry. 

“The wind blows wherever it pleases.  You hear it’s sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.  So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”  

A Real African Wedding.

Today was wedding day!  Or rather, it was introduction day. 

   

Oh my word, it was so fun and such a cool experience.  We got up decently early in the morning and got all done up for the day.  It was really fun.  I honestly looked good for the first time this trip I think.  We were such girls today, again, probably a first.  My hair was honestly straight, even in the humidity, and I got to do other people's hair and make-up, which was really fun.     We left around 11, which was about an hour later than we had planned, TIA.  (This. Is. Africa.)  Our car ride was about two hours long from Ntinda to Jinja.  Jinja is the city where the base of the Nile is, and it is where Sarah's family lives.     

The introduction ceremonies are always held at the bride's house and hosted by the groom’s family.  The bride’s family sits in two tents (depending on how many people attend) and the groom’s family gets the center tent.  The parents of both the bride and groom sat on some couches in the first row of the tent and seriously got star treatment.  They were served water, soda, and food, everything they wanted throughout the 4-hour ceremony.  We were all wearing a sheet of red, gold, and black striped fabric wrapped in the fashion such as a toga, but with a little extra flair to it.  We then got a black sash with silver fringe that they tied in a certain way around our waist, and we all wore big, black, chunky, African necklaces.  The boys wore trousers and a dress shirt underneath a full-length tunic that made them look like prophets from Jesus’ time, all with a suit jacket over top of it.  They were really hot.  

In order to enter the ceremony, we had to dance our way in, while in a straight line of girls and boys separated.  The girls all kneeled in straight lines on the mats, while the boys stood behind us.  We repeated a greeting speech in Luganda that was taught to us beforehand.  This gave many of the Ugandan attendees a good laugh.  We were then ushered to our seats in Sarah’s tent where we watched other people enter the ceremony.  Throughout the entire ceremony there were a bunch of little traditions that I couldn’t really understand because the entire service was read in Luganda.  However, from what I understood, the bride and groom sat in the tents “hiding” from each other.  The groom’s family asked one of the aunts of the bride about how they knew Sarah.  They were making jokes about her age and other things, which is apparently part of the tradition.  Then Sarah and her wedding party entered the ceremony and recited the greeting to the groom’s family.  However, the bride is not allowed to say one word throughout the ceremony, her family or wedding party always speak for her.  Then Sarah’s “maid of honor” had to take a rose in a basket and go through the groom’s tent and find him.  This tradition just proves to the family that Sarah’s close friends and family actually know who he is and that they have known him for a while.  Once she finds him, she pins the rose on his suit jacket and then he gets to sit with his parents and Sarah on a couch in the groom’s family’s tent.  

I didn’t understand many of the other things that happened, but we got to witness the giving of the dowry, which was actually hilarious.  The family got a sofa set amongst probably 50 baskets of various fruits and other gifts.  They were also given a cow and some livestock, but we didn’t get to see that.  Then the groom had some presents specifically for Sarah’s parents and for Sarah, and at the end of the ceremony, Sarah’s fiancé gave her the engagement ring.  Sarah cut the cake and we had cake and dinner before leaving her house.  

It was so interesting to see a little bit of their traditional culture, and actually be a part of it.  They were all so appreciative that we would take the time to come and abide by the cultural traditions.  When Sarah came back after a few days, she said that she really genuinely loved that we came and that we just made the ceremony for her and that we all looked really good.  

For once, we actually did.

preparations.

Well, just as a brief (well, as brief as I can get, and by brief I mean not brief at all) update on the events of the days that have passed:

In the morning on Thursday we went to Sanyu Babies Home and I got some really good shots of my friend Jenna doing her physical therapy on some of the little ones.  It was really fun for me to be able to do that for her and to see how much she appreciated them once I gave her the finished product.  I hope to get to do some more of that for other people, it's really good practice.  

In the afternoon we went to the Remand Home where I surprisingly saw Irene, though she had been released last week.  I have to admit, it was exciting seeing her, but at first I was a little frustrated because the justice system here is really really bad and I assumed they had messed up on her case because this has happened to many of the kids we have gotten close with there.  She told me that she had malaria and that the conditions at Remand were better for her health than at home.  Plus, she was getting free medication there so she decided to stay until she felt better.  I prayed with her quickly and she excitedly told me she had been reading the Bible I had brought for her last week.  She showed me the verses she liked, and I showed her some of my favorite verses, it was really fun to at least initiate a conversation like this with her that will hopefully be continued, or hopefully not because she won't be there.  I'm not sure.  I also got to give the Bible I bought to Susan who gratefully received it and immediately flipped it open.  We did our usual program there, and they were really crazy that time.  The people leading the songs couldn't even hear themselves because the kids were all jumping up and down screaming the songs at the top of their lungs, it was amazing.  Then Heath gave another amazing message that touched so many of the kids.  He asked them at the end of his sermon if they wanted to give their lives to Christ, and if so to ask an "uncle or auntie" (which is what they call elders, meaning us) to pray with them.  I had a girl approach me named Medina who could not speak a lick of English.  I had one of the Ugandans I have gotten close with translate for me, and she said she wanted me to pray for her.  I prayed as Collin translated and could see the sincerity of her promise in her face.  I asked Irene if she was new to the Remand Home and she said she had just been admitted on Wednesday.  I told Medina I would come back next week with a Luganda Bible, which I went into town today and purchased.  I am excited to talk with her more and learn her story.  I am also excited for next weekend because I can start going to Remand on Sundays just to visit with Irene, Susan, and Medina without having to pause during the "program."  

Speaking of Medina, when we went to Kyampisi Community Church, there was a girl also named Medina who I was really attached to, but who wouldn't speak a word to me.  (Excuse me if I've already written about her, I can't remember.)  I asked someone what was wrong, though I thought I remembered her from the week previous as a girl who had contracted HIV/AIDS from birth.  They told me that it was her who was infected and that she was infected from birth.  These kids don't get a lot of attention from their parents usually, because the parents think that they won't live very long.  So from a very early age, these kids are instilled with a hopelessness thats enough to break any spirit, big or small.  Before I came, the Lord laid it on my heart to pay for an infected kids ARVs, and I really feel it might be this girl.  I have asked one of the Ugandans who works with the kids to talk with the parents about how much they might cost and he is going to get back to me hopefully before I go on safari this Sunday.  

Today in the morning we went to Davemi Infant & Nursery School in the stone quarries by the King's palace.  That place is overwhelmingly beautiful, and I just love going there.  It's really crazy because it's at the top of one of the many huge hills in Kampala, so the drive up there in the safari van is adventurous to put it lightly.  But once you get there, you look out from the front "porch" (this is in quotes because, well, I can't really explain, it's more like a cliff I guess) and you can see for miles of the scenery of Kampala.  It's incredible.  However, it is amazing how much beauty there is in so many broken places.  Almost all the kids at this school have been infected with HIV/AIDS and their parents have as well.  So again, many of these kids have not much to hope for because of the thought process that has been instilled into their brains since they were diagnosed. 

 I got to see some girls I talked with last week, and they recognized me right away.  One of them was really why and every time I would look at her she would hide her face and giggle.  The other would do something similar, but I kept getting distracted because something about her was different from before.  I finally realized that she had some burn marks near her left eye that hadn't been there last week.  I tried to ask her what happened, but she only replied in Luganda and all the Ugandans were busy cooking porridge so I couldn't get her embarrassed whispers translated.  Oh how that frustrated me.  I really hope we go back at the beginning of next week so I can pull her aside right away with a Ugandan and we can talk about it.  I also noticed a little girl who just breaks my heart every week.  She has burn marks covering her entire face, and part of her skull is showing on the top of her head.  I'm not sure what is wrong with her, and I'm too afraid to ask her.  Not because of the disfigurement of her face, but because I know she struggles with it a lot, even as a 1st grader.  Each time I'm there I see someone picking on her, and she runs to a corner crying.  Today, it happened right in front of my face and it took all my energy not to cane the little girl who had teased her.  At the beginning of our "program" I went and sat next to her and whispered in her ear, "Peacey, oli mulungi.  Yesu akwagala nyo nyo nyo."  Which means, "Peacey, you are beautiful.  Jesus loves you so so so much."  She smiled and inched a little closer, never clinging to me like so many of the others do however.  I started rubbing her back a little bit when the little girl next to her spoke some quick, heated Luganda after slapping Peacey's arm.  Peacey stared at her for a few minutes, and I didn't even know what was going on, until Peacey collapsed with her head in her arms, sobbing.  My eyes filled with tears and I thank the Lord for calming my temper towards the other girl who had hurt this girl who was already hurting much more than I can ever understand.  I tried to console her, but Peacey being a pretty cold little 1st grader simply because of her circumstances, didn't allow my arms to wrap around her little waist, she wouldn't let me lift her to my lap, she just sat there next to me as I rubbed her back.  Every now and again she would look up at me and I would just whisper, "oli mulungi, nkwagala (you are beautiful, I love you)" over and over again, and she would put her face back into her arms.  I want to see her more before I leave, I want her to understand the Father's love for her so she can face her schoolmates with confidence and boldness.  I am praying for her now as well.

After going back and having a quick lunch me and my friend Jenna went to the post office to pick up the package my mother had sent me and to see if one of her packages had come or not.  We ended up getting back to the house late, so we went straight to Good Choice Primary School in Kireka on a boda-boda where we were supposed to do some general cleaning of the buildings.  This school is really fun because the kids are absolutely wild.  The van rolls into the compound and you immediately hear hundreds of kids clamoring up to the sides of the car banging on the windows, screaming for us to get out.  It is hard to get out without tripping and falling into a mob of little elementary kids.  However, it always grosses me out because the "floor" is just dirt, or rather mud mixed with poo.  Yes.  I said it.  The kids were out washing their shoes and simply throwing the dirty water onto the dirt/poo floor, just making it worse, and that's when it hit me that we were cleaning this.  That was an instant humility lesson.  We ended up having to further wet the floors of the classrooms so as to "control the dust" and then sweep all the stray papers and dirt out of the classrooms before mopping it all at the end.  We only got to sweeping before all of us were covered with the mud/poo and realized we were doing nothing so we went home.  

Upon arriving at the house, I began taking out my plaits.  I have to say, I already have post-partum depression over them.  I really loved them.  However, they were starting to look a little grown-in, and it's not really appropriate to wear your hair plaited at these introduction ceremonies if they're not looking absolutely perfect.  So for Sarah's sake, I took out my fake hair plaits.  I can't lie, my hair is so gross right now.  It is basically dreaded already because it is in clumps of grease from the braids, but at the same time it is all kinky from the braids.  I look like an 80's drag queen if we're going to be honest here.  Plus, I'm still covered in mud because I don't plan on showering until tomorrow so I'll be the most fresh for Sarah's intro, so my personal hygiene is just really great right now.  Another lesson in humility and not finding confidence in my looks: check.  I am definitely going to get them re-done before I come home because I loved them so much, but I am going to take the next 2-3 weeks to get my hair relaxed and clean before doing it again.  Plus I am trying to decide if I should just do the braids again, or what they call afro-kinky, which is basically just dreads made out of extensions so they can be taken out and used again.  Though it is much more expensive and I'm not sure how I feel about it, all the Ugandans and many of the MST's really want me to do it.  I guess we'll see.  

In other news, this will be my last post until Tuesday most likely unless I get time tomorrow, though I highly doubt it.  Tomorrow is Sarah's introduction ceremony and the girls spent tonight doing last minute touch ups to our outfits.  We ironed our "dresses," (A piece of red, yellow, black, and gold fabric that we wrap around ourselves and tie a black fabric belt around our waists with a black chunky African necklace and sandals) painted our nails, plucked eyebrows, the works.  I think this will be the best I've looked so far tomorrow.  We will be driving out to Jinja around 11 a.m. and we will get there around 1 p.m.  From there, the women in Sarah's tribe will help us tie our dresses and get them secured and we will practice the Lugandan greeting we must say to the in-laws before we enter the ceremony.  The men will be wearing full church attire (slacks and a button-up shirt) with a traditional African dress, though they all insist it looks more like a tunic from Jesus' time, and a suit jacket over it.  It will be hilarious, I simply can't wait.  Then on Sunday I leave for Safari until Tuesday evening!  I can't wait to use that time to just refresh and re-energize with the only One who can truly do this.  

In all, this weekend will be a good end to a rough week.

Purpose Post

Okay, here it is.  I was hoping this post was going to be decently profound, but I’m not sure it will be that way.  I am excited to post this nonetheless, but I hope all this introduction to it isn’t anticlimactic. 

So, before the Lord even laid this poem on my heart, I had been talking to a very wise woman about how I was frustrated that I didn't know my purpose here.  She simply said, "I don't think you're supposed to look for the revelation, I think you're just supposed to enjoy each day as a new experience."  Now that I see this, I know this is true.  As I have written about in earlier posts, God has taken me through many "deaths to the flesh" after I committed my life to Him last summer, simply as a way to transform me and grow me further in Him.  The "death" I had been going through before I left, and that I know this trip is serving to teach me, is the death to my plans.  

Any of you who truly know me, know that I am a planner.  I am just about as organized as you can get, and if it weren't for my planner and my iCal on my computer, I would probably get so stressed that I would take a day out of my routine to organize my life.  I have had the 10-year plan written up in my head as to how my life would run, but in the two months before school ended in Spring Semester up until the present, God has been ripping these plans to shreds one by one.  So this "death" is probably going to be one of my hardest.  

It also forces me to give up the control that I think I have over my life.  While I have been here, I literally have had no control over anything.  I can't control when we will go back to a certain school or project, I can't control if I have toast in the morning or not, I can't control what time we leave no matter what time we're supposed to leave, I can't control what we do, I can't control what happens tomorrow, I can't control the internet, I can't control the running water or the electricity, and these are just the basics.  Probably the worst thing I have experienced however, is the fact that I can't control the people I meet.  I can't handle their problems.  I can't fix them.  However, He is showing me that He can.  By showing these people Him, whether that means we tell them about Him directly, or simply show interest in them out of brotherly/sisterly love in Christ, He will reveal themselves to them, and He will help them.  I just may not see it.   

Now, simply because I have written this down, doesn't mean I fully grasp it.  Many of these things still frustrate me, and I know His work is not done yet.  However, He has given me another month to work through that with me.

I was going to wait to post this next part until the end of the week, but this little teeny message from my Jesus is what has been pushing me through my ministry the past three days.  I am so excited about it even now, that I simply cannot wait any longer.  I guess the way I am going to do this is that I will type it up now, and explain it as best I can, though I would like for it to speak for itself for the most part.  I hope you enjoy it, and don’t find it too corny. 

He loves them so much.

His Heart yearns to be beside them all day long.

Yet He can’t.

We are too broken.

Too far away.

His arms stretch from the Heavens,

Still they do not reach.

His broken Heart beats.

It pounds furiously in His chest.

Longing to hold His sons and daughters safely in His arms.

He sends His Son.

This is the only way to ease His broken Heart.

Yet the compromise is bittersweet.

He sends The One to save the many, from the one who destroys them all.

His Son lives on.

His Son lives in Me.

He breathes in Me.

He Loves in Me.

By sending me here,

By sending me to them,

He gets to be here as well.

He gets to be here, with them.

I bridge the gap.

Through Me, He feels the smooth, dark skin of His children.

Through Me, He kisses their cheeks.

Through Me, He tickles their bloated bellies.

Through Me, He whispers His Perfect Love in their ears.

He rejoices at their smiles, and contented giggles.

He Loves them, through Me.

I am here to bridge the gap,

The gap that keeps Him from them.

Now that I have been sent, He holds them once again.

There is no glory for His Vessel.

Though a Vessel never asks for glory,

She only asks to be used.

He uses Me, to Love them.

This is why I am here.  I am not here so that I can show everyone how cute I look holding an African baby.  I am not here to prove to people how great of a humanitarian I am because I went and helped out in Africa.  I am not here to be able to tell people that I led "x" amount of people to Christ.  I am not here to make any sort of profit, or get any sort of glory whatsoever.  I am here because Jesus Christ, the Son of God, my Abba Father, lives in Me through His Spirit.  I am here because my Father misses His children, and wants to hold them again.  He wants to be with them again.  I am simply His Vessel here.  

It is this image that keeps me moving.  It is the gift of His eyes that allows me to love these kids unconditionally.  Each time I go anywhere and catch the glance of one of His beautiful children, He shows me His Heart for them.  He shows me how much He loves them, how His Heart breaks for them, how much He misses them, and it takes all of my energy to not run up to them right then and there and wrap them up in a hug and never let them go.  

He simply wants to hold them, and Me, being undeserving of any role in His Plans, am honored to be able to let Him hold them, through Me.

It's all for Him.

Despite my bad day yesterday, and the broken times I had yet to experience in the coming day today, I had a good wake-up call this morning at devotions.  We sang a song that many of you will know: “I’m coming back to the heart of worship, and it’s all about you, all about you Jesus.”  I am reminded that even though I am sad about my friends not being here, the ones from home and the ones that have recently left, it’s not about me.  He calls me back to Him.  He takes my chin with His hand and turns my head back to meet His gaze.  My time here is all about Him, and it was great to be reminded that so simply this morning.

Our first ministry we went to was Katalemwa Children’s Hospital, and it was our group’s turn to talk with the moms.  I ensured that I got a different translator than last time so that hopefully I would have a better experience, and for the most part I did.  This time we spent a lot of time getting to know these women’s stories and listening to their struggles, and then we just prayed for them at the end or gave them any encouragement we had.  For the third time in three days, my eyes filled with salty tears listening to the first woman’s story.  She was a jaja (grandmother) and one of her eyes was missing.  We asked her why she was there, and about her life.  She told us she was there for her grandson, who was born with both of his legs crippled.  We asked where his mom was, and she told us she had died 1 week after he was born.  She told us she had given birth to three daughters, one of them died, and the other two have disappeared.  Her husband is too old to work, so they do not have any form of income.  She had lost her eye a few years ago when she got a disease and it became so infected that it was completely useless, and would have caused the disease to spread through her entire body.  When her daughter got pregnant, she was so ashamed of what happened to her that she refused to tell the jaja who the father of her child was.  She died before the jaja could figure it out, so she was now forced to take care of her grandson.  She started crying as she told us that she didn’t know how she was going to pay the balance for her grandson’s treatment at the hospital, so she was forced to stay there until she could figure it out, causing her balance to continually causing her more and more stress.  My eyes filled with tears as I watched the tears flow out of both of her tear ducts, even the one that was missing her eye. 

Again, I feel useless.  I’m sure we did all we could, but I still feel it is not enough.

After this we were supposed to go back to City Side Secondary School, the one we have been going back to for a while now.  There was another communication error, and the other teams went to City Side while we went to Clive College.  I think I was still so broken from yesterday that I didn’t think anything of it.  I don’t have much to comment on about this day except that Heath, one of the new guys who is one of my favorite people here, gave an incredible sermon that touched even me. 

Later on in the afternoon, I was supposed to go back to Kyambogo College with a few others to see Lydia and watch them practice basketball, as I usually do.  But the van that was going there left without me and another girl who was planning on going.  All these communication errors are getting me very excited for safari, when I can just get away for a while.  We ended up going with a different group to Bethany Secondary School where they played basketball with their school team.  We lost, but I had fun taking pictures and sitting with some 7 year olds as they laughed at my attempts at Luganda. 

Now we are back at the house, and I am looking forward to tomorrow, as hopefully it will be a better day.  We are going to Sanyu where one of my friends has asked me to come with her and take pictures of her last time at the Babies Home.  She is in her last year of university for occupational therapy and has been practicing the things she would do in her job here at the Babies Home and at Katalemwa Children’s Hospital.  She has not been able to take pictures at the Babies Home because we just recently got permission.  She has really appreciated a lot of the pictures I have taken and she asked if I would take some photos for her while she’s doing therapy.  I readily agreed, and am really looking forward to this job.  I am also thinking about asking one of the Ugandans if I could take a day this week to not actively participate in the ministries, but simply take photos, as this is where I have found my joy so far this week.  We are also going back to the Remand Home, so I will see how Irene’s case has worked out and will be able to give a Bible to Susan. 

I am simply praying for refreshing and for guidance on what I can do to help ease all these broken hearts.