30th birthday party--everyone, everywhere loves pizza!

so, i finally am uploading pictures from the 30th birthday party to end all parties, p-diddy/puffy daddy/puff the magic dragon/whatever-your-name-is-now...your white parties got nothing on my pizza party with these awesome kids!

lame.

kinda-pretty awesome, i admit. 

most awesomest, fabulous, pimpest, exclusive, a-list, notable, incredible party! (note the sign in the back: "oh, wow, they had pizza hut in uganda?!"--um, no. it actually says "pizza hot" same font though-sure 'nuff.  pizza with meat is pizza with meat, pizza hut or pizza hot, it was awesome! :) 

thank you all who made this awesome birthday party with my favorite 15 possible!  they had so much fun. for many, this was their first time going into town, seeing anything but dirt roads, for all, it was their first time eating in a restaurant, for all, it was a treat to have meat, on a day other than christmas. thank you, thank you, thank you!  you were such a blessing to them!

the feast! (there was a 2nd table too) 

"trying" to maintain some order.  seems orderly now...but they were just pretending for the camera! 

 

yes, yes that is indeed a mischievous smile. 

 posha trying to throw up the deuces :)

 

israel photobomb

playing at the main shopping center--a trip here alone was a treat for them!








and finally, my way of saying thank you again to you all:
an awesome picture of a squirrel photobomb:

it's the gift that keeps on giving :)

i will be posting more pictures and videos later.  i thought you all could only handle so much excitement, so, i'm rationing. :)

..and also what paul and henry were talking about--and clive staples too.

i sat down and looked around the room, and the words of : henry david thoreau came to mind:

"the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation" 

they looked solemn, a veil of sadness having overcome their faces.  i looked closely and i saw empty faces and empty eyes.  i wanted so badly to go up to each one, and take them by the shoulder and shake them, hug them, do something! and tell them there is an incredible love out there, there is an indescribable joy, that is waiting for them.  i want to plead with them to want it, i want them to know that they are missing it! 

these thoughts came as i sat waiting to board the plane that was the beginning of my journey back to the states.  i only can refer to these places now as what they are: "the states" and "africa"....because the truth is, i can't say "home" anymore...people ask me in the airport, "are you headed back home?" i can only smile and respond by saying, "i'm headed back to the states".  i really don't feel like i have a home anymore.  there's this thing in my heart. this, this, this desperation, for the Lord.  i now weap when i read paul's words: 

for to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. if I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. but to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account. convinced of this, i know that i will remain and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith, so that in me you may have ample cause to glory in Christ Jesus, because of my coming to you again. -philippians 1:21-26

i feel that same thing so deeply.  i believe that's why that thought struck me when i sat there and saw a room full of solemn, sad, lonely, empty faces. i dare not insinuate that my face is always shining so brightly with joy itself, i pray for that to be true, but it is not, there are times when i feel that surely the longing in my heart is made manifest on my face, i believe that those times when the lamentations of my heart are so loud, they drown out all other voice and sound, that it veils my face as well--i say this to say that i am not perfect, i do not have all the answers--well, i have the answer--Jesus.

i believe that we all are desperate for something, and what we are desperate for, i believe, is an incredible tell of our heart.  i want that longing on other's faces that i see to be for more intimacy with God, more, more...just more with Him!  that would bring me joy--if the desperation was for Him, more of Him. but, i know it is not always so with those i see, and even myself.  

i also believe that c.s. lewis said it best when he wrote: "if i find myself in a desire in which nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probably explanation is that i was meant for another"

(---side note: i am currenlty in the london-heathrow airport, staying an 8 hour layover, and the sweetest couple just walked in front of me...there's a huge "christmas tree" type structure, with lights and color, and garland, etc. the woman has walked in front to have her picture taken in front of it---why is this so cute and sweet? they're about 80 in my estimation. traveling together, finding delight in the simple such as taking a picture in front of a christmas tree in an airpot.  he is now showing her the picture he took of her for approval, she sweetly nodded her head, smiled, and took his arm, and they have walked away; thank you Lord for that Love between them, thank you Lord that she still takes his arm, and they still find joy in the simple!) 

....and back on track! ...

i find myself looking at the others here in the london-heathrow airport the same way.  praying for them, thinking about their lives, their original design, their calling---what it would look like if they answered it...what mine would look like too--if i pursued it 100%, truly saying, "it's not about me! it's all about Jesus".  i find myself over and over and over meditating on this, "be desperate for His presence--all my longings, desires, hopes--to be only about Him--Whom i am designed for"


i think about the drastic changes in lifestyles i am experiencing all within a 24 hour period.  i think again about what i am headed back too, and know it doesn't feel like "home".  i can't think of any physical place that feels like "home" but only a spiritual place, a place where i solely rest in Him, and His will, His design, what breaks His heart: the place i am designed for. 


i think about my quiet desperation.  the quietness is in words only, because i know it surely screams loudly on my face, when i am not near Him, when i am not passionately pursuing Him, when my flesh and my own heart take over...when i choose, even for brief moments, the old heart, that was wounded, and not the new heart that has been restored, redeemed, and set apart. the wounded heart drives the quiet desperation, that veils the face, that muffles the joy, that hold the new self back behind the old self. 
i think about my heart's laments---a lot, and i give them to Him.  i give those sick babies to Him, i give those malnourished bloated bellies to Him, i give those mothers that ask you if you can take their child/their baby back to the states with you to Him, i give the young teenage girls giving themselves to undeserving guys to Him, and in that, i also have to give myself to Him, wholly, completely, totally-to Him, because there is a desperation in me too--that i can only direct toward Him.


i give these to Him:

what do you do when every sight around you screams: "you can never do enough! children will continue to die of starvation, because they don't have clean water, access to medicine..."

at these times, i again think about the words of paul: if i give my body over to be burned and have not loved, it profits nothing."  when i think about what paul said, i also think about what st. augustine said: "charity is NO substitute for justice withheld

love visits. love fights for the good of others.

love is patient. love is kind. it is not jealous, love does not boast, it is not prideful, it keeps no record of wrongs....

love says, "it's not about me"--and gives it all to Him.

what peter and solomon were talking about

“do not let your adorning be the external--the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear, but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious”--1 peter 3:3-4

i was always one who had somewhat “excessive energy” and pleaded with God to grow me in that quiet and gentle spirit peter wrote about. but, it never really came; at least not in my own self evaluation. now i sit here, approximately 4 days before i head back to the states, and the meaning of “quite and gentle spirit” has drastically changed. a friend, once trying to encourage me said “it doesn’t say quiet mouth!” :)  

so, i sit here, about to leave my african residence of 3+ months and feel compelled in my spirit, my heart, to interpret it this way: a quiet trust, that no matter what circumstance, situation, trials, that God’s hand is upon it.  better is trial and fiery circumstance with God’s hand upon it than prosperous times with His hand far away. it’s the trust that quietens the spirit. it’s the unwavering devotion, despite circumstance, that brings gentleness. the past 3+ months were not at all what i had envisioned, what i thought they would look like, feel like. God had different plans, and His are far greater.  i have learned much more, i know, than if it had been as i planned it. 

as i prepared to come here, the months leading up to this, i began really accepting the temporariness of life, and more recently, the passing vapor that it really is, in the scheme of the universe, of all eternity. but, over the past few months, through a ugly bought with malaria, the very real possibility i was going to lose my right lower arm due to a puff adder (viper) bite, and having my only retreat, only confidence, only refuge of conversation be with the Lord, it became all the more solidified that “it doesn’t matter”.  i remember, the night my arm was bad, bad, bad, bad: hand swollen almost like a boxing glove, forearm swollen, all red, red, red, and beginning to turn blueish/blackish around the bite--and that was spreading, feeling so much pain, it seemed as if every bone in my hand was broken, praying, praying, praying for relief, but acknowledging in the most sincere peace, that if He wants to take it (my lower arm), that i was okay with that, i knew i would get it back one day anyway. and i was peaceful about it. i even kind of laughed at all the times i said i wished i was ambidextrous. i was at peace, keeping my lower right arm or not, it didn’t matter--in the whole picture of life, creation, it didn’t matter.  the years i dwell on this earth, are but passing moments compared to eternity. i also think about all the women i see here. sick, single, dying, children soon to be orphans. and i think about the frivolous worries i had before. there are so many things i want to say to the Lord when i stand before Him, well, there were, but none of them were ever “why did You...” or “why didn’t You...” because it doesn’t matter.  death is but the means in which we can finally be united in His perfect Kingdom, and living this life with both arms, children, family, “nice” things, comfort, etc really doesn’t matter then, it all becomes vapor too. i think about these women, their fear, the one that asked me if i was going to die, and my answer of “absolutely” wanting to be sympathetic to her, but also offer counsel in a way that showed her, told her, that death is “absent with the body is present with the Lord”--that there is no fear in death! (there is a previous post about this encounter...not sure which one it is...think it’s the one about the home visits :) ).  by the same measure of wanting her to know that there is no fear in death, we must also realize that there is no fear in our living--a life that does not look like what we thought and/or wanted. i believe that is a big difference between them and us (us=americans), they fear dying, we fear living a life that is not like what we wanted or planned or hoped for. 

i think about those who are so important in my life, the feeding into each other’s lives, and how much joy it brings me to see them receive blessings. how i’d rather see them blessed tremendously than be blessed myself.  how i’d rather see them brought peace even if it means my turmoil, hurt or pain. there is far greater joy and privilege for me to see them in such joy, receiving blessings, than for me to receive any direct blessings myself.  my joy is in seeing them blessed and with peace.  the suffering here, that is evident when i have done home visits, further only drives home that nothing really matters, but what happens after we draw our final breath. what we do for the Kingdom, for lost and/or suffering souls, that is what matters.  our legacy, our story is not about what filled our houses, and what those houses looked like, or if we had a wedding band and children, etc. it only matters how we reached out, how we fought for those whose names were/are not written in the same book as ours.  it only matters how we served, sacrificed, and trusted. 

i think about what peace and rest mean: complete trust in Him.  i think about how that surely brings so much beauty that peter, and even solomon wrote of--the countenance of calm rest and trust, that offers more beauty than any size, shape face, nose, eyes, skin tone, etc. 

i think about what we fill ourselves with, how we handle trials, turmoil, pain, hurt, etc. and i think--none of that really matters. i think about what real need is, what real pain is, what real fear is, and i’ve seen it: here. i think of the more we try to fill our lives with things and statuses that do not matter, the more we fill ourselves with temporal things, that our facade of joy rest on--what happens when they are gone?  we must let our joy rest only on Him, our peace be only in Him. if our joy and peace rest on anything else, they are shakable, and will crumble at the slightest jolt. to fill ourselves with only a trust in Him, a love of and for Him and His will, that will surely fill us with the quietest, sweetest trust, and how truly beautiful is that?!  i see beautiful women here--far more beautiful than i’ve seen before.  through sickness, death, abandonment, poverty, they do have a peace.  the ones with that peace, that quiet trust, surely outshine us all who have no want.  

“for a cup brimful of sweet water cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, however suddenly jolted”--amy carmichael

  

choose your heart

i’ve debated in my mind rather or not i should wrote this post, i am airing on the side of “do write and post”; just know that i am not uncovering anyone with any ill intent, but, more speaking to the state of humanity, and the long affects of an abandonment mentality, and given a direct prayer request for these and the 147 million other orphans in the world. 

i believe i have referenced in previous post the connection made between how we view our earthly father and how we view our Heavenly Father. if our earthly father is absent, abandons us, we will most likely have a distant view of our Heavenly Father, as One who is not there, One who does easily and readily leave us, despite His promise found throughout the pentatudes (first five books of the bible) of “I will never fail or forsake/abandon you.” if our earthly father was abusive, harsh, we will view our Heavenly Father as abusive, harsh, impossible to “please”.  

trails and traumatic events tend to stay with us much longer than necessary.  we live our present lives, often, as if the past still has control over us, as if the past is still a present danger, when 95% of the time, it is not. it is one of the schemes of the enemy to keep us from walking in the joy and freedom and grace made available to us through Jesus.  i’ve done it.  i’ve carried scars with me in what is supposed to be a freely healed heart. arghhhh, i hate talking about myself, i do.  there are few people that i will be bare with.  i will talk with almost anyone about theology, philosophy, etc, but myself, few. so, i’m going to painfully break that routine of not, and bare, because i am about to share other’s burdens/hurts too.  my fear: abandonment. it can bring me to tremble at the thought of it. having a close relationship/friendship/trust with someone, and then, they’re gone. i feel foolish, exposed, unsafe, and vulnerable--i hate it.  my fear of abandonment interferes with me from trusting and forming relationships a lot.  it goes back to my childhood--a long time ago...i know i am safe from things that happened, that hurt, that wounds in my heart, but, the enemy still wants me to believe that i am susceptable to those hurts again, that it’s going to be done to me all over again, and he attempts to magnify the hurt that it will bring--thus, (attempting to) steal(ing) my healed heart, and having me believe i still have the wounded heart.  it’s not true. at all.  my heart is beautifully redeemed and healed. that doesn’t mean that those things will never happen to me again, they have, and they will again, but, it means that this healed and redeemed heart receives it a different way.  it no longer has to receive it in a way that says it shapes and defines who i am.  it can now receive it in a way that says, “wow, that still hurts, but, what does God say about me?: He says “I will never fail or forsake/abandon you”. and i cling to that. my identity and safety no longer come from fellow man, but from the Lord, and that’s my freedom.  that’s my strength to face those fears, abandonment, in the face, receive it, acknowledge it hurts, then bring it to the Lord and He speaks truth over it.  it has taken a loooong time to get here. but i am here. keeping my gaze upon the Lord, desiring to never avert my eyes from Him and His truth over me.   :up until hitting "publish post" i debated rather or not i should strike all that personal information, but, i say now, "it's not about me" if someone else can be encouraged through it, than to God be the glory, if it helps relay the coming children's story and prayer request for them, than, the fear i feel in sharing is all worth it, to stir up hearts of prayer for them. :)   
****edit**** i also very much realize that much what we perceive now is just that, perception, lies, not true.  i realize that what i may perceive as abandonment now, is possibly not that at all.  it's about looking at the truth in things, and not through stained eyes or a wounded heart.  often times, we miss it, and make something be "proof" of our fear when in fact, it is not at all, --we have just accustomed ourselves to thinking something is hurtful or an attack when in fact, it is not at all. --so, the title should actually be, "choose your heart and eyes"--because we must not only change our hearts, but our eyes and mind. :)  <3  

i see this same struggle in my children here though.  the ones i work with daily.  they have had hard lives.  they have been in places where they were not provided for, given up, abandoned, etc. but that is no longer the case, the truth--they are cared for, loved, provided for where they’re at now.  some have experienced  years of having to con, steal, etc. to provide for themselves, protect themselves.  though they do not have to anymore, they still do.  it’s fear based. they are safe now. fed now. loved now. provided for now. belong now. etc. but, they still live in the past, with the heart that had to be hard, rough, and shrewd just to survive. they know in the forefront of their minds they do not have to worry about hunger, thirst, loneliness, but, their hearts are still attacked, they  as children still are, believing they still have to resort to old ways of conning and stealing to make it, to be provided for. caretakers’ rooms are entered and personal items gone through, taken, and items go missing, as if that is the only option for them to be fed, provided for, etc. this is not true, at all, but satan still has a grip on them. they still walk with their old hurt, scarred, jaded heart, instead of the healed, new, light heart that Jesus has promised them. “My yoke is easy and burden light”.   i remember thinking: all they  had to do is ask!  no need to steal, con, etc...just ask me!!! i care, i will help!  just ask!  don’t steal, con, etc! just ask!  i know they know that i, and the other adults care about and love them, but, the enemy’s grip it is tight!  then i look at my life, the lives of other people i see and also remember from the states, and i think to myself, we are no different. we may not steal of con, per se, but, how many of us walk, believing who Jesus was, what He did, how that changes us, but still walk with our old wounded hearts, letting those OLD, in the past wounds and scars shape us now, how we relate now.  the answer: many of us. i have. i have, until these past few weeks, utterly feared abandonment, until i came to a place where i had no one anyway, and came to see that Jesus is all i need. that doesn’t mean it still won’t hurt, but it does mean that when it does happen, i can receive it differently.  it’s like here, they may not get meat or vegetables everyday, but they will be fed. it doesn’t mean they won’t be disciplined, but when it happens it is done out of love. i pray that they will allow their hearts to believe this, that they will choose their new, healed, redeemed heart, over they past wounded one. they have a place now!  they are loved! they have no need to fear! but, they do. i continue to pray that they will chose their new heart, and lay the old habits of stealing and conning learned by their wounded hearts aside. when you think of how to pray for the hungry, the orphaned, the abandoned, please remember to not only pray for their provision, but also for their hearts. that they will choose new hearts, and no longer live in fear that resides mightily in their old hearts.  pray that they will believe in their new hearts, and that freedom will grow stronger and stronger. 

i would also encourage you in this, examine your heart, the heart that Christ lives in, do you still let the past wounds, transgressions shape you and have some aspect of control over your life now?  don’t!!!!!  live in your new heart, the heart that has been healed, wiped clean, the heart that is beautifully dwelled in by Christ. choose your heart, the old broken wounded one, or the new, healed, beautiful one that says, “hurts may still come, but, it will not shape my identity or control me!”  let Him shape and define you, not other mortal, sinful man. :)    walk in your freedom, and healing, and pray that these children all around the world can too. 

“a Jesus who never wept could never wipe away my tears”--charles spurgeon

"therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. the old has passed away; behold, the new has come!" 2 corinthians 5:17 

barefoot

i ran across a blog titled “the barefoot gospel” and it really made me think heavily about life back in the states, upon my return. i’m pretty blessed to go to an incredible church, that serves and welcomes the homeless community into it’s doors, but, others, i know, are not so blessed to be part of such a spiritual family.  i think about life here, now. the dirt roads i walk, the tent church we meet in.  the encocos (chickens--the luganda word is just waaaaaaay more fun to say!) that run around the tent of our meetings, the cows i pass on my walks there, the half-naked children i pass that always greet me with a “hi auntie carmen!” and then run up and grab my hands, and i think, surely this is far more a picture of the kingdom than the fine clothing and jewelry we are used to adoring ourselves with, than the late model vehicles we drive. what really really matters? what do we give account for?  what are we working and striving toward?  do we strive as much to reach the lost, the burdened, the weak and weary as we do other things that pleasure us.  do we strive, work, run with diligence this race marked out for us, to bring as many long side of us as we can?  

"therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart"--hebrews 12:1-3

 what we work the hardest for, that is where our heart lies.  what have we made the gospel?  are we living our lives, that it reflects how we reach “the least of these”. the least are not necessarily the poor, they are also broken, sick, the odd ones, the outcast, the eccentric ones.  they are the ones outside of our comfort zone. do we dine with the ones others raise an eyebrow at, and greet the ones that go unnoticed, or worse, ignored. do we go far enough outside of our comfort zone to bring them to Him?  if we are reaching them, who is?  we are ALL called to reach them, in some way.  it can be a simple greeting, or an invitation to a bible study, or an invitation to dine with you and your comfort zone friends after church.  it’s so easy.  my sister once said, after witnessing a family member’s tantrum “it’s so much easier to just love people” that’s actually when it hit me, it really struck my heart, just do it, just love.  make up your mind that is what you are going to do, be: love. just be it: love. let Him be love in you.

we cannot, simply cannot sit by idly while others perish still broken and lost.  

“if sinners be damned, at least let them leap to Hell over our dead bodies. and if they perish, let them perish with our arms wrapped about their knees, imploring them to stay. if Hell must be filled, let it be filled in the teeth of our exertions, and let not one go unwarned and unprayed for.” --charles spurgeon

:update: 

snake-pocalypse

well, what i first thought was a spider bite--lots of spiders here! (48 hours ago), turns out is more likely the bite from an adder snake. they’re bad dudes. really, google “adder snake, africa” you’re better off meeting mike tyson in a dark alley than encountering one of them.

anyway, it went from a small bite/puncture wound, apparently inappropriately blamed on the most vilest of all creatures-a spider, to a mere 18ish hours later my hand swelling to the size of a small child’s boxing glove, turned red as well, and proceeded to extend the swelling and redness to my wrist and forearm.  the medication originally prescribed when it was but half my hand swelled (day after bite) did nothing, and that night, i cried from the pain--the first time physical pain has brought tears to my eyes in a long time. it went from feeling like a nail was driven through my hand to every bone in my hand being broken.  the redness in the hand also developed a blue-ish undertone to it, and thus, the swelling also proceeded to the size of the aforementioned children’s boxing glove. unrecognizable as a hand almost. the mere act of trying to bend my hand made me feel like it was going to split open.  i went back to the doctor the next day (2 days post bite--today), and he was a bit surprised too. the puncture wound itself was not the source of concern, but the venom/poison/reaction spread to my whole and and forearm.  he gave me an anti-inflammatory there and had me stay an hour, holding my entire hand/arm upright for an hour to see if it reduced in swelling. it did not. further confirming this british national who has received honors from the royal family, to state it was the bite/venom of an adder snake.  i’m actually quite lucky--google it, seriously. anyhow, since i leave for the states on the 2nd, i was asking him what do i do if it keeps getting worse, since already in the past 48 hours it went from a small blister to my whole hand swelling 5 times it’s size, turning blue-ish red, and my forearm swelling/discoloring too, he looked at me for a minute and said amputation to prevent it from spreading more. not sure if it was his british humor, when i said “nah, you’re joking” he just looked at me.  i do remember looking at my hand at one point, when it resembled more of a boxing glove, reddish/blue in color, feeling as if all the bones were breaking,, and thinking: You can have my hand, You’ll give it back to me one day.  and He would.  one day.  either way, it’s not good if it was to get worse, it was already that bad at 48 hours, i’d hate to see it at 96 hours...since at this point too my hand had lost feeling.  i emailed a few people and relayed these latest developments, deploying my prayer warrior team, and, within an hour, my hand had decreased in, to about 1/3 what it was.  it’s still swollen--but at least somewhat recognizable as a hand now! and no longer blue-ish in color as well!  though i am returning to the states, with a pretty maimed hand, at least i’m returning with both, and i don’t have to learn to write with my left hand after all! :)  as far as how maimed my hand will be, i’ll know more within the next few days.  

(He makes) all things new

a boy.  he asked me: when you've been a murderer, like me, how can God use you? how can God know you?  can you still go to Heaven? 

i could only answer: it's only about Jesus.  those acts were nailed to the cross with Him.  you are only His son now. when He sees you, He sees love, not was was done before you knew Him. 

he smiles and nods his head.  i pray he feels this, believes this. 

 the one who conquers will have this heritage, and I will be his God and he will be my son--revelation 21:7

they have had so much pain, hardship, and suffering in their young lives, yet, i find constant that there is peace and joy in their countenance.

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy.”--st. francis

awake o sleeper!

she wipes his face clean with his shirt, wiping away the tears and the runny nose. the lovingly rubs his back and then picks him up and holds him close to her chest.  her hand on his back, holding him close to her as she quietly says, “shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay, shhh, it’s okay” and then begins to sing him a soft song.  she is 6 and he is her 8 month old brother.  just two of the siblings that come to our program to receive nutritious food and hear bible stories.  a break from their seemingly impossibly difficult lives, aimed to let them be children, if only for a few hours, yet, they sacrifice, the 6 year olds sacrifice so that their younger siblings can be children there.  

today i saw her bathing the baby.  the one year old was in a large plastic bucket tub, and she gooed and tickled her as she poured the water over her.  she lathered her hands with soap, and gently and attentively cleaned her, so maturely, making sure to get her neck, behind her ears and even her little girl parts. she made faces with her, so that she could laugh, after this, she picked her up out of the dirty bucket water and held her tightly, drying her off and took her inside to dress her.  the “she” doing the bathing for the 1 year old is only 8.  she is so mature, attentive to the little one’s cries, quick to respond and soothe. 

these are just a few examples in the last two days of what the lives of children is like here.  they care for their younger siblings, as “stand-in parents”.  they walk twice a day, some, miles each time to fetch dirty water from running streams.  5 year olds do this, and walk the miles back, carrying 3-5 gallon “jerry cans”--the yellow tubs used to transport water. yet, there remains joy in faces, in smiles, in yellowed eyes.  

we were blessed to have another team from visiting orphans come through for a day.  in the cost of the trip, it includes this day, for us to be able to feed 150+ children rice, beans, and pasha, as well as give them soda to drink.  they come as they are, hungry, dirty, excited--for food and to be loved on.  excited over silly pipe cleaner art projects and puppet shows.  excited to just be...visited.  

my heart is a mess right now. i leave in 2 weeks.  i’m not “looking forward” to leaving and “getting back to the states”. i am looking forward to working again so i can support others that are here, serving the orphaned and vulnerable, i am looking forward to nursing school, so that i can do medical missions, i am looking forward to continuing to press, fight through this change.  there is so much that needs to be done, and now that i have been here, i see there are others, others who gave up everything to come, serve, and love, but, it’s not enough.  the mass of the population that needs help, needs love, needs empowerment, needs hope, is far greater than a supportive ratio that can be offered with those that are here. and this is just kampala/jinja/pallissa.  there are times that my heart is breaking so widely open, crumbling into such ungatherable stony dust that i know only one of two things are possible: wallow in that brokenness and be selfish/focused on the sadness their suffering is bringing me, or wait upon the Lord, and know that by breaking something (my heart) so severely, that surely He is doing something incredible. and, He is, He is doing something magnificant, something with His fingerprints all over it.  

 video of this awesome dance number to come once i have more reliable internet! :)

spidergate: so, anyone that knows me knows of my utter, complete, fear of spiders, a fear so strong, it renders me absolutely useless if i even think one is near me; all i am able to do is cry out: “kill it! kill it! please, kill it! someone kill it! kill it!” i will whimper this over and over and over and over and over until someone, well, kills it. last night, they had their vengence, in a big way, or at least one did. it seems as if one was trapped inside of my mosquitto net, inside of my bed with me.  he mauled me.  imagine you give up oh, say, coffee for lent, or meat...and then, that day comes, and Holy! Holy! Holy! you devour a venti vanilla soy latte with an extra shot of espresso in under a minute--well, that’s kinda like what this evil spawn of the prince of darkness did to me  :( .  it makes me sad. and sore.  i think he was a mutant spider and had razors growing from his spider fangs too-by the looks of the bites :(  he’s probably hiding, waiting to come out and do it all again.  i searched for him, to kill him, and could not find him...i think he’s like a green beret spider, plotting his attack right now actually.  i’d rather have the mouse back--at least i never confirmed that he was a carrier of the bubonic plague, he might have been good and awesome like, danger mouse:

highly unlikely, but possible

***edit* the culprit it would seem is a brown recluse/violin spider--jerk. :(  i will be returning slightly maimed.  this is why i hate spiders. :( i shall feel no embarrassment for my whimpering, shrill, crying please for people to kill spiders for me now.***

and, lastly: i’m a bit of an emily post fanatic, so, believe me, it is driving me a bit mad not to be able to send each of you a thank you card, or even email yet for donating to the best birthday ever for the children in africa fund!  i shall take pictures of this wonderful, great, fun, super, bestest event and post them as soon as i can post party (which will be on the 29th!).  my heart is truly gladdened still at the care and love to donate for this.  i am loved beyond what i deserve for God to call me here, and even further that you all would love these children that i love, and give so that they may be blessed on my birthday.  surely someone is more worthy, and thus, it can only be God, and His love for these children, because i surely do not deserve to be any sort of vessel for Him. <3

which is why i reference this:

"but everything exposed by the light becomes visible—and everything that is illuminated becomes a light. this is why it is said:
   “wake up, sleeper,
   rise from the dead,
   and Christ will shine on you.”
be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is."--ephesians 5:13-17


let what is awakened in us, be not put out, that flame in us, however small, remain more powerful than even the thickest darkness. that light within us, that flickering, not only brings light and truth to those around us, but also to our own self, our own heart.