sometimes working in a third world country makes me feel like i am emptying the ocean with an eye-dropper. and just when i have about half a cup full of water, it rains: more orphans from the north migrate to where i live, more abandoned and dead babies are found, more people are infected with aids. it is enough to discourage even the most enthusiastic and passionate person. and yet the discouragement lasts only a moment and God tells me to keep going. that He loves me. that he loves these people. that He will never leave or forsake any of us, not one. that my work IS important, to Him.
i spent the day at the wedding of my friend lydia. it was a beautiful celebration not only of our love for one another, but also the love God has for us. at the reception, there was cake and singing and dancing, just like at any american wedding. one thing that wasnt like an american wedding however, was the congregation of street children at the gate, all longing to join the party inside. those who know me know that i am not the kind of person who can sit in a chair if others have to sit on the floor; i immediately felt suffocated inside the gates of the extravagant party. so for most of the reception you could find me outside with the raggedy, dirty street children dancing and laughing and cuddling. most people were slightly appalled that i, a WHITE person especially, was associating with these children, the lowest of the low, the outcasts of society. many of the fancily dressed guest at the wedding even came and told me that i probably shouldnt speak to these awful children, let alone kiss them and let them bury their faces in my hair. "the are from the village!" the people would cry, as if it was some kind of sin, as if the children could help it. we had so much fun though. the children ate up every bit of attention i could give, danced as close to me as they possibly could and lavished me with love. we spun and laughed until we ached and had to collapse in the grass outside of where the reception was taking place. those who had been shy at first (they are not used to adults talking to them, let alone mzungus) ended up snuggled close at my side, petting my hair or kissing my hands. the littlest ones fell asleep in my lap, despite the blaring music from the wedding. those who could speak english wanted to know all about me and thanked me unneccisarily for spending time with them. they were so happy, i cant describe the new light in their eyes after all of our dancing.
its that light.
its that happiness.
its that love.
my darling daughter emily is asleep in my lap and i can feel her heart beating against mine.
its that beat.
its that warmth.
its that love.
its that love that is the reason i just keep filing up my little eye-dropper. keep filling it up and emptying my ocean one drop at a time. im not here to eliminate poverty, to eradicate disease, to put a stop to people abandoning babies. im just here to love.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
hahaha. we got robbed. last night, a guy climbed through the window, took some cds and a computer, and left his bow and arrow on the floor.. haha only in africa :)
ive been really busy and bad at journaling lately so this blog is right of the top of my head, excuse me if it is not as eloquent as some. so i spent most of the day in the hospital, alot of our kids have a really bad cough and high fever so they need to be tested for malaria and tb. the only on who was really sick was little christina (teeny) who has a bacterial infection that her body is apparently struggling to fight. her fever reached 105 today, super scary. at the hospital they drew her blood and put an iv needle in her arm, and she is getting fluid injected into it ever 4 hours. so guess who gets no sleep tonight? yes, that will be me. we are making it fun though. we ate dinner with my ugandan best friends beth, amy, and phin (and my daughter emily of course) and now we are having a.."hooray-for-needles-in-your-arm sleepover" complete with popcorn and cookies made on the gas stove. i guess at least being up most of the night will give me a chance to catch up on some reading and make some phone calls since the time change wont be a problem. every situation has a bright side, huh?
yesterday i sat in church cradling daniel in my arms with smiling jimmy dancing and singing next to me. the "joyful noise" these people make while praising God completely overwhelms the small building. we started singing the theme song from my first ever mission trip to south carolina when i was in the eighth grade, "trading my sorrows" (yes Lord yes Lord...yes yes Lord). i was overwhelmed with the sudden knowledge that though i am so far away, we are in the same world singing the same songs. we worship the same Lord. we share the same Father. and therefore, i am not so far; we are connected by our love of the Maker of this one earth that we share. we are one people, one world, serving one God.
i am not far away. i look at the same stars that come out over your heads each night. as the sun sets on you at night, i watch the same one rise. and when we pray, the same God hears and answers us all. so i am not far; we are all held together in the hands of our Lord.
ive been really busy and bad at journaling lately so this blog is right of the top of my head, excuse me if it is not as eloquent as some. so i spent most of the day in the hospital, alot of our kids have a really bad cough and high fever so they need to be tested for malaria and tb. the only on who was really sick was little christina (teeny) who has a bacterial infection that her body is apparently struggling to fight. her fever reached 105 today, super scary. at the hospital they drew her blood and put an iv needle in her arm, and she is getting fluid injected into it ever 4 hours. so guess who gets no sleep tonight? yes, that will be me. we are making it fun though. we ate dinner with my ugandan best friends beth, amy, and phin (and my daughter emily of course) and now we are having a.."hooray-for-needles-in-your-arm sleepover" complete with popcorn and cookies made on the gas stove. i guess at least being up most of the night will give me a chance to catch up on some reading and make some phone calls since the time change wont be a problem. every situation has a bright side, huh?
yesterday i sat in church cradling daniel in my arms with smiling jimmy dancing and singing next to me. the "joyful noise" these people make while praising God completely overwhelms the small building. we started singing the theme song from my first ever mission trip to south carolina when i was in the eighth grade, "trading my sorrows" (yes Lord yes Lord...yes yes Lord). i was overwhelmed with the sudden knowledge that though i am so far away, we are in the same world singing the same songs. we worship the same Lord. we share the same Father. and therefore, i am not so far; we are connected by our love of the Maker of this one earth that we share. we are one people, one world, serving one God.
i am not far away. i look at the same stars that come out over your heads each night. as the sun sets on you at night, i watch the same one rise. and when we pray, the same God hears and answers us all. so i am not far; we are all held together in the hands of our Lord.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
september 17, 2007
THE POWER JUST CAME ON FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 5 DAYS. PRAISE THE LORD :)
i just watched a man fall down flat on his face in worshiping the Lord. every tuesday 40-50 people crowd into a 50 square foot room to praise the God that keeps them alive in this place. and when they say praise, they dont mean praise like we do in church in america; they mean be truly thankful, truly humble, truly in awe. they mean REALLY love the Lord God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. they do. they dance and they laugh and they sing with faces tilted heavenward. they become so overwhelmed with amazement and humility that they fall to their knees, some even laying face down on the ground. they SHOUT to the Lord, they whisper to the Lord, they cry to the Lord and they sing to the Lord. even a goat walking into the room hardly distracts these people... haha, let me tell you, it distracted me. only in africa :) ive said it before and i will say it again, God has never been more apparent than He is in this place. here He is not just the One you pray to when you need something or even want to give thanks. here He is the One to whom you owe your whole LIFE, every second of it. here He is a friend right next to you every moment of the day, One you are not worthy to even speak to, but One that listens relentlessly anyway. and that is how i live in Uganda. Uganda with no power, Uganda with intense poverty, Uganda with freezing showers, room temperature long-life milk, constant mosquito bites, sickness and dirt. Uganda with my Lord.
i not going to say the last few days havent been a struggle at times, its even harder to keep and eye on my girls in the dark.. yesterday michelle tried to flush a whole roll of toilet paper down the toilet and ate about half my tube of toothpaste. i was laughing so hard that it was impossible to be angry. we had exhausted our supply of peanut butter and bread, and were out of milk for cereal; i was so sick of room temperature food (think about it. room temperature milk and fruit room temperature left-overs, rice...) the gas for the stove had run out and not yet been replaced and the water was turned off. i just wanted some soup. so with peace, charity and michelle sitting on the floor ripping up pieces of paper, i started a fire in a glass bowl and cooked our soup over the fire by candle light. beautiful :)
beautiful.. sometimes i am walking through the noisy market, down the dusty africa road with the hotter-that-imaginable sun beating down on my face. everyone around me is blacker than the night. everything is beautiful. despite the sweltering heat, i get goose-bumps. i live in africa. i am in africa. this is africa and this is where i live and this is where i love. this is my place, where my heart and soul are. God has put me here, a place beyond all my dreams and imagination. i dont know why me. i dont know why anything. but i know. i am certain. this is THE PLAN. this is MY PLACE. and tears of joy run down my face, in the hot, dusty, noisiness, because i am HOME.
THE POWER JUST CAME ON FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 5 DAYS. PRAISE THE LORD :)
i just watched a man fall down flat on his face in worshiping the Lord. every tuesday 40-50 people crowd into a 50 square foot room to praise the God that keeps them alive in this place. and when they say praise, they dont mean praise like we do in church in america; they mean be truly thankful, truly humble, truly in awe. they mean REALLY love the Lord God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. they do. they dance and they laugh and they sing with faces tilted heavenward. they become so overwhelmed with amazement and humility that they fall to their knees, some even laying face down on the ground. they SHOUT to the Lord, they whisper to the Lord, they cry to the Lord and they sing to the Lord. even a goat walking into the room hardly distracts these people... haha, let me tell you, it distracted me. only in africa :) ive said it before and i will say it again, God has never been more apparent than He is in this place. here He is not just the One you pray to when you need something or even want to give thanks. here He is the One to whom you owe your whole LIFE, every second of it. here He is a friend right next to you every moment of the day, One you are not worthy to even speak to, but One that listens relentlessly anyway. and that is how i live in Uganda. Uganda with no power, Uganda with intense poverty, Uganda with freezing showers, room temperature long-life milk, constant mosquito bites, sickness and dirt. Uganda with my Lord.
i not going to say the last few days havent been a struggle at times, its even harder to keep and eye on my girls in the dark.. yesterday michelle tried to flush a whole roll of toilet paper down the toilet and ate about half my tube of toothpaste. i was laughing so hard that it was impossible to be angry. we had exhausted our supply of peanut butter and bread, and were out of milk for cereal; i was so sick of room temperature food (think about it. room temperature milk and fruit room temperature left-overs, rice...) the gas for the stove had run out and not yet been replaced and the water was turned off. i just wanted some soup. so with peace, charity and michelle sitting on the floor ripping up pieces of paper, i started a fire in a glass bowl and cooked our soup over the fire by candle light. beautiful :)
beautiful.. sometimes i am walking through the noisy market, down the dusty africa road with the hotter-that-imaginable sun beating down on my face. everyone around me is blacker than the night. everything is beautiful. despite the sweltering heat, i get goose-bumps. i live in africa. i am in africa. this is africa and this is where i live and this is where i love. this is my place, where my heart and soul are. God has put me here, a place beyond all my dreams and imagination. i dont know why me. i dont know why anything. but i know. i am certain. this is THE PLAN. this is MY PLACE. and tears of joy run down my face, in the hot, dusty, noisiness, because i am HOME.
Friday, September 14, 2007
i have 5 little girls, no power, and a tray of chocolate chip muffins... should make for an interesting night.. :) i have to say that i really have fallen in love with these little girls, even if they are misbehaved sometimes and just downright crazy. today they let me sleep until 6:45 and even then, they just crawled in my bed and snuggled and rested, as opposed to bouncing all over my bed. haha. so life at amani baby home goes on and i just have more shadows than usual.
the girls are asleep. i am marveling at how one small candle can seem to fill my whole house with light. just as Jesus fills my heart. and now i take my candle around to all the others and light them, the house practically glows. my one tiny flame has made everything bright. and i am reminded that i can light candles in the hearts of others, as long as i let Jesus fill my heart here first. "you are the light of the world.. so let your light shine before men that they my see your good works and glorify God the Father.." africa can be frustrating, sometimes so frustrating that i actually find myself wanting to complain - being eaten alive by mosquitoes while i sleep, never being able to make a normal phone call or normal food, sticking my hand into a box of cereal or cracker and pulling it out covered in ants. and then i remember, in this place Jesus fills my heart with such passion that i GLOW; how can i be frustrated? i walk down stairs and a tiny orphan looks at me and says "auntie katie, nkwagala nnyo nnyo nnyo" (i love you much much much). i watch a cow chase a man down the road or the kids chase chickens around the compound and laugh hysterically. my candle is lit, i am on fire for God, for this place, for these people. my purpose here is to spread His light. one candle can light up my entire house. Jesus can light up this entire nation, and my flame can be a part of that.
and my prayer each day is this:
shine, Jesus, shine, fill this land with the Father's glory
bless, Spirit, bless, set our hearts on fire
flow, river, flow, flood this nation with grace and mercy
send forth Your word, and let there be Light.
nkwagala nnyo nnyo nnyo :)
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
ohhh my... sorry i haven't gotten around to updating lately, i have become a mother. annie, a missionary who owns a babies home in kampala is in the process of adopting three little girls. she had to go to america to takecare of some things relating to the adoption and wasn't able to take her girls with her due to the fact she is not yet their legal guardian. so anyway, guess who they are staying with? yes, thats me. and wow, these are not your average children. they were raised in an orphanage for the first four years of their lives and this orphanage is not like the ones i work at. this place has no structure, no rules, no boundaries. neesless to say, these children just dont know what normal behavior even looks like. its not their fault, and its tragic. these grils try to flush whole rolls of toilet paper down the toilet, eat toothpaste instead of brushing their teeth, break everything they touch and put dirt in my retainers. i find however that it is impossible for me not to love them, they just remind me how important my mission is, teaching kids to behave, to love, to laugh, to have the most "normal" childhood possible.
for the most part, we have had lots of fun, but i ahve never been so exhausted. on top of working at the orphanage all day (the girls just come with me and play with the kids), i come home with three dirty, hungry little girls that need to be fed and bathed and put to bed. then i stay up planning things for our elementary school and trying to get caught up on things like this blog.. whew. and then of course it never fails, 6 am rolls around and there are my darling childrenjumping on my bed to mke sure i know that it is almost morning.. luckil, it has always been a dream of mine to be a mother, so im not so bad a it. ok, ok so sometimes we have cereal for dinner, and monday we were late for school because we stayed in bed and cuddled and had pancakes, but hey, we're doing the best we can. :) tonight we are having a slumber party, emily and maria are sleeping over with peace, charity, michelle (the girls) and i. rigt now we are eating oatmeal cookies dunked in long-life milk (eww). yea, its not all that good, but we are in africa, and again, doing the best we can.
anyway, life at the orphanage is beautiful as always. as i walk down the steps of my house in the morning thirty little voices yell, "auntie tatie, i wuv you!" with delight. little musa tells me i look beautiful, and i laugh to myself to think that i havent showered in 3 days, am driping with rain and covered in mud and look anything, ANYTHING but beautiful. ah, love is blind :) love is wonderful. the greatest gift our maker gave us, the greatest gift we can give one another - LOVE. love is something my life is never never lacking and i could not be more blessed.
on that note, i want to say thank you. thank you for reading this. thank you for the comments, the emails, the thoughts and prayers. i cant always answer but know that i read what you say, and everytime i hear from someone back home i nearly burst with joy. it means so much to me that i do not have to make this journey alone; i have so many of you right here with me. i send up little prayers of thanksgiving for you all the time. i fully and completely believe in the power of prayer and thus believe that i couldn't do any of what im doing without your support.
i am going to go snuggle with some orphans. love eachother for me. i love you all :)
for the most part, we have had lots of fun, but i ahve never been so exhausted. on top of working at the orphanage all day (the girls just come with me and play with the kids), i come home with three dirty, hungry little girls that need to be fed and bathed and put to bed. then i stay up planning things for our elementary school and trying to get caught up on things like this blog.. whew. and then of course it never fails, 6 am rolls around and there are my darling childrenjumping on my bed to mke sure i know that it is almost morning.. luckil, it has always been a dream of mine to be a mother, so im not so bad a it. ok, ok so sometimes we have cereal for dinner, and monday we were late for school because we stayed in bed and cuddled and had pancakes, but hey, we're doing the best we can. :) tonight we are having a slumber party, emily and maria are sleeping over with peace, charity, michelle (the girls) and i. rigt now we are eating oatmeal cookies dunked in long-life milk (eww). yea, its not all that good, but we are in africa, and again, doing the best we can.
anyway, life at the orphanage is beautiful as always. as i walk down the steps of my house in the morning thirty little voices yell, "auntie tatie, i wuv you!" with delight. little musa tells me i look beautiful, and i laugh to myself to think that i havent showered in 3 days, am driping with rain and covered in mud and look anything, ANYTHING but beautiful. ah, love is blind :) love is wonderful. the greatest gift our maker gave us, the greatest gift we can give one another - LOVE. love is something my life is never never lacking and i could not be more blessed.
on that note, i want to say thank you. thank you for reading this. thank you for the comments, the emails, the thoughts and prayers. i cant always answer but know that i read what you say, and everytime i hear from someone back home i nearly burst with joy. it means so much to me that i do not have to make this journey alone; i have so many of you right here with me. i send up little prayers of thanksgiving for you all the time. i fully and completely believe in the power of prayer and thus believe that i couldn't do any of what im doing without your support.
i am going to go snuggle with some orphans. love eachother for me. i love you all :)
Saturday, September 8, 2007
september 6, 2007
they have finally stopped treating me like the queen of england here at canaan, and decided its ok if i work. i am so so happy. i spent the morning doing laundry with the 5 and 6 year girls, and the saddest part was that of all these little children, i am the worst at doing laundry by hand. i love that here at canaan, everyone is expected to contribute to the family. the children help do the laundry, the dishes, help me cook, and help bathe and dress and take care of one another. everyone has a role. i think this is important, as i now know the wonderful feeling of accomplishment that comes when you have just finished doing the laundry of 100 kids by hand! we all just laughed as my dog decided to roll on our newly washed sheets - oh, banange! (in luganda, an expression of exasperation, but usually used playfully)
did i mention yet that i have a dog? well he wasnt actually originally mine; he was just one of the four dogs living at the home, but the minute i walked through the doors at canaan last week, he began to follow me around and hasn't left my side since. his name is james, and he is an old, gentle as can be, german shepherd, and i don't know why he likes me. the kids can only explain it as "just because". the first time i walked to jinja, he followed me the whole ten miles. he would let only children come near me, but when others came close he stood between us. watching this dog who had no apparent reason to like me so much, no reason to be my friend, i was reminded of my loving Father above. i was reminded that He is walking with me every step of the way and that He is my protector, and though He has no reason to really be my friend, though i am not worthy,He likes me - loves me - anyway. and so my puppy james is my constant comfort. as he follows me around, as i smuggle him close, i remember that i am never alone. i am constantly in the presence of God who is greater than all of africa, a God who loves me, "just because".
they have finally stopped treating me like the queen of england here at canaan, and decided its ok if i work. i am so so happy. i spent the morning doing laundry with the 5 and 6 year girls, and the saddest part was that of all these little children, i am the worst at doing laundry by hand. i love that here at canaan, everyone is expected to contribute to the family. the children help do the laundry, the dishes, help me cook, and help bathe and dress and take care of one another. everyone has a role. i think this is important, as i now know the wonderful feeling of accomplishment that comes when you have just finished doing the laundry of 100 kids by hand! we all just laughed as my dog decided to roll on our newly washed sheets - oh, banange! (in luganda, an expression of exasperation, but usually used playfully)
did i mention yet that i have a dog? well he wasnt actually originally mine; he was just one of the four dogs living at the home, but the minute i walked through the doors at canaan last week, he began to follow me around and hasn't left my side since. his name is james, and he is an old, gentle as can be, german shepherd, and i don't know why he likes me. the kids can only explain it as "just because". the first time i walked to jinja, he followed me the whole ten miles. he would let only children come near me, but when others came close he stood between us. watching this dog who had no apparent reason to like me so much, no reason to be my friend, i was reminded of my loving Father above. i was reminded that He is walking with me every step of the way and that He is my protector, and though He has no reason to really be my friend, though i am not worthy,He likes me - loves me - anyway. and so my puppy james is my constant comfort. as he follows me around, as i smuggle him close, i remember that i am never alone. i am constantly in the presence of God who is greater than all of africa, a God who loves me, "just because".
september 5, 2007
sometimes, in the midst of all the joy and praising the Lord and energy and laughter these kids seem to exude, i forget that they actually are orphans, orphans with horrible sorrow and tremendous pain in their pasts. today i was reminded. six year old derek, a sweet shy little boy with the face of an angel, fell and bumped his head. he looked so determined not to cry, here children are taught to be tought and "big", but against his efforts, the tears started flowing. i pulled him into my lap, and almost as quickly as they had started they tears stopped, but what was left, the sorrow in those eyes behond the tears, i will never forget. the eyes that peered out of that six year old face were a hunded years old and had seen more tradgedy in their short lifetime than most ever will. i was filled with giredf for this beautiful boy. i cradled in my arms a child who had seen his parents and siblings killed and had more than likely been forced to kill others himself. this child had known what it mean to be truly starving, to be totally lost, to be utterly and completely hopeless.
and in this same moment of saddness, i was bloown away by the greatness of our Lord - that God in all His mighty plans had cared enough for this child, had cared enough for me, to put us together in this moment. the God who created the heavens and the earth knew that on a rainy day in africa a little boy would bump his head, and the pain would be deeper than just that bump. God had put me in just the right place and given me ther privilage and blessing of being able to love this child, gently rubbing his back and holding his hand, in a way that he had not been loved in a long time, if ever. by the grace of God, i was blessed with the gift of being able to lovingly hold and hug this child, eventually tickling him until thouse sorrowful eyes brightened a little, and Derek threatened to errupt with laugher. we sat there like that for quite some time, and derek never spoke. when i asked him if he wanted to go play now, he shook his head and looked at me with a face that read, "no, can i stay here forever", and when we finally got up for dinner, those big brown eyes were full of gratitude. today god reminded me that i have ONE purpose, in africa, and in life, and that is to LOVE. i could ask for no greater an assignment.
* * *
tomnight i made dinner for beatrice, mary and alice, the "house girls" at pastor isaac's. most of you know that i really dont like when people do thinkgs for me; i prefer to do them myself. you can imagine then, the struggle i have with beatrice, mary and alice catering to me, always insisting that i am treated likea princess, doing my laundry and cooking for me three times a day. so tonight i told beatrice around four that she was not allowed to cook; i was making supper, no arguments. i made my american favorite, spaghetti and meat sauce (woth ground beef from the cow next door...) and even bought rolls from my favorite little bakery in jinja and made snickerdoodles for dessert. it would be a tough contest to see who had more fun - me in preparing the food, or the girls in eating it, but i bet i would win. i showed them how to twirl their spaghetti noodles around their forks and we laughed ourselves silly twirling and slurping our pasta. they thought it was so much fun and i soooo enjoyed watching them have such a great time. and i have never been so happy to do dishes in all my life. i feel like, just maybe letting me do their dishes is one step closer to them seein that i am NOT on a higher level than them, i just want to be their friend. as i did the dishes tonight ( no dishwasher in africa, surprise), i was again immensely grateful; grateful that God who knows my heart had allwed for this moment - had allowed for me to do what He designed me to love doing, serving His people.
love to all :)
sometimes, in the midst of all the joy and praising the Lord and energy and laughter these kids seem to exude, i forget that they actually are orphans, orphans with horrible sorrow and tremendous pain in their pasts. today i was reminded. six year old derek, a sweet shy little boy with the face of an angel, fell and bumped his head. he looked so determined not to cry, here children are taught to be tought and "big", but against his efforts, the tears started flowing. i pulled him into my lap, and almost as quickly as they had started they tears stopped, but what was left, the sorrow in those eyes behond the tears, i will never forget. the eyes that peered out of that six year old face were a hunded years old and had seen more tradgedy in their short lifetime than most ever will. i was filled with giredf for this beautiful boy. i cradled in my arms a child who had seen his parents and siblings killed and had more than likely been forced to kill others himself. this child had known what it mean to be truly starving, to be totally lost, to be utterly and completely hopeless.
and in this same moment of saddness, i was bloown away by the greatness of our Lord - that God in all His mighty plans had cared enough for this child, had cared enough for me, to put us together in this moment. the God who created the heavens and the earth knew that on a rainy day in africa a little boy would bump his head, and the pain would be deeper than just that bump. God had put me in just the right place and given me ther privilage and blessing of being able to love this child, gently rubbing his back and holding his hand, in a way that he had not been loved in a long time, if ever. by the grace of God, i was blessed with the gift of being able to lovingly hold and hug this child, eventually tickling him until thouse sorrowful eyes brightened a little, and Derek threatened to errupt with laugher. we sat there like that for quite some time, and derek never spoke. when i asked him if he wanted to go play now, he shook his head and looked at me with a face that read, "no, can i stay here forever", and when we finally got up for dinner, those big brown eyes were full of gratitude. today god reminded me that i have ONE purpose, in africa, and in life, and that is to LOVE. i could ask for no greater an assignment.
* * *
tomnight i made dinner for beatrice, mary and alice, the "house girls" at pastor isaac's. most of you know that i really dont like when people do thinkgs for me; i prefer to do them myself. you can imagine then, the struggle i have with beatrice, mary and alice catering to me, always insisting that i am treated likea princess, doing my laundry and cooking for me three times a day. so tonight i told beatrice around four that she was not allowed to cook; i was making supper, no arguments. i made my american favorite, spaghetti and meat sauce (woth ground beef from the cow next door...) and even bought rolls from my favorite little bakery in jinja and made snickerdoodles for dessert. it would be a tough contest to see who had more fun - me in preparing the food, or the girls in eating it, but i bet i would win. i showed them how to twirl their spaghetti noodles around their forks and we laughed ourselves silly twirling and slurping our pasta. they thought it was so much fun and i soooo enjoyed watching them have such a great time. and i have never been so happy to do dishes in all my life. i feel like, just maybe letting me do their dishes is one step closer to them seein that i am NOT on a higher level than them, i just want to be their friend. as i did the dishes tonight ( no dishwasher in africa, surprise), i was again immensely grateful; grateful that God who knows my heart had allwed for this moment - had allowed for me to do what He designed me to love doing, serving His people.
love to all :)
september 4, 2007
i cannot go anywhere without being followed by at least 6 orphans, hungry for love. i cannot walk into the gates of my orphanages, or through the local villages without being ambushed by 60 children who all want hugs and kisses. i cannot sit down without having my lap instantly filled. and this life for me is heaven.
i think i fall in love with canaan more each day. yesterday, i taught the kids how to play tic-tac-toe and hang man in the dirt with a stick; we played for hours. every night before dinner we praise God for about an hour. it is my favorite part of the day; we sing and dance and pray and i can't understand at all much of the time, but i can feel God's presence all around me and in these people. last night the power went out right before dinner which can be quite a disaster when you still have 102 children to feed. so we lined them all up in the dark, and by the light of a kerosene lamp, fed them all. then i held precious gideon late into the night until all the little ones feel asleep and the older ones began heading to bed. sitting there in the absolute dark, i marveled at the fact that here i am in africa, holding an orphan, surrounded by the tangible presence of my Lord, living my dreams; i am so very blessed.
this morning i got up and walked back to amani (the other orphanage). its about a two hour, 10 mile walk, but i get a lot of thinking and praying done. :) i bought mandazi (doughnut like things...) for all the toddlers, and when i got home, you would have thought i had been gone for a year instead of 48 hours. i love these little people. even baby josephine started singing when i picked her up; i'll admit, its nice to be missed! after lunch the kids and i walked down to the lake but got caught in the rain (in case you haven't notices, its rainy season). once the kids figured out they were water-proof, however, we had a blast splashing around.
it never stopped storming so i decided to stay at amani for the night, which allowed me to bather the little ones and put them to bed and then rock josephine and sweet baby daniel (our newest addition found in the village - sooo tiny!) to sleep. as i listen to the pitter patter of the rain on my tin roof, i feel right at home. and then i realize how blessed i am to feel that. this is my home, amani baby's home in jinja. canaan children's transit in buziika is my home. the nazareth orphanage in masaka is my home. and back in good old brentwood, with all those i hold so dear, is home. no matter where i am, i am always cradled in God's arms, and there i am home.
i cannot go anywhere without being followed by at least 6 orphans, hungry for love. i cannot walk into the gates of my orphanages, or through the local villages without being ambushed by 60 children who all want hugs and kisses. i cannot sit down without having my lap instantly filled. and this life for me is heaven.
i think i fall in love with canaan more each day. yesterday, i taught the kids how to play tic-tac-toe and hang man in the dirt with a stick; we played for hours. every night before dinner we praise God for about an hour. it is my favorite part of the day; we sing and dance and pray and i can't understand at all much of the time, but i can feel God's presence all around me and in these people. last night the power went out right before dinner which can be quite a disaster when you still have 102 children to feed. so we lined them all up in the dark, and by the light of a kerosene lamp, fed them all. then i held precious gideon late into the night until all the little ones feel asleep and the older ones began heading to bed. sitting there in the absolute dark, i marveled at the fact that here i am in africa, holding an orphan, surrounded by the tangible presence of my Lord, living my dreams; i am so very blessed.
this morning i got up and walked back to amani (the other orphanage). its about a two hour, 10 mile walk, but i get a lot of thinking and praying done. :) i bought mandazi (doughnut like things...) for all the toddlers, and when i got home, you would have thought i had been gone for a year instead of 48 hours. i love these little people. even baby josephine started singing when i picked her up; i'll admit, its nice to be missed! after lunch the kids and i walked down to the lake but got caught in the rain (in case you haven't notices, its rainy season). once the kids figured out they were water-proof, however, we had a blast splashing around.
it never stopped storming so i decided to stay at amani for the night, which allowed me to bather the little ones and put them to bed and then rock josephine and sweet baby daniel (our newest addition found in the village - sooo tiny!) to sleep. as i listen to the pitter patter of the rain on my tin roof, i feel right at home. and then i realize how blessed i am to feel that. this is my home, amani baby's home in jinja. canaan children's transit in buziika is my home. the nazareth orphanage in masaka is my home. and back in good old brentwood, with all those i hold so dear, is home. no matter where i am, i am always cradled in God's arms, and there i am home.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
It happens in the most ordinary moments. I could be bumping along on a boda boda, scrubbing the dirt off my now forever brown feet, having my hair (painfully) tugged and braided by six pairs of dirty little hands, and there it is – this surge of unimaginable love and contentment, my heart is full. And these moments that seem so ordinary, so mundane, are extraordinary. Because when I am where God wants me to be, serving people that He places in front of me to serve, how can I be anything less than happy? It is impossible.
2 year old Ato, with her once-white-now-brown dress falling off her shoulders sits in my lap examining my fingernails. I know she is hungry. It is 9:30, she has been up for three hours and has not yet eaten; when she does it will be a small cup of porridge made of soy flour and water (we are working to add a boiled egg each day to this morning meal for protein). Yet I have never seen a child happier. As she bounces on my knees and burries her head in my shoulder she sings a song “webale webale Jesus, katonda wange mirembe” (thank you, thank you Jesus, your spirit is mine in my heart forever).
I have been at Canaan for a couple of days now and am feeling very much at home and very happy to be here. We have big, big plans: we are going to build an elementary school - a BEAUTIFUL, two story, 15 classroom elementary school (here it is called primary school and goes grades 1-7). We are hoping to have about 1,000 children, but i am sure that number will grow, as our Kindergarten started with 20 and now has 104. :) The piece of land for the school has already been bought, and we will begin building the foundation in October. God is showing me once again how BIG he is and just how small I am. I was delighted when our run raise $15,000 and now to build this school will cost $180,000, about $154,748.03 of which we do not have. And God says “trust”. I am not concerned; God wants this school to be built. I will not be able to build it, neither will pastor Isaac, but God will.
In Uganda, it costs about 80,000 shillings (roughly $50) to send a child to school for one term (there are three terms per year). A single mother working two jobs may make 80,000 shillings in 2 months. This means that for that mother, half a year’s salary can send one of her children to school. In Uganda, no one has just one child; most families have at least 5. And we wonder why the African nation is uneducated. School is the greatest living expense in this country, about four times the cost of electricity or water, which most do without anyway. Taxes here are not used to cover the cost of school fees. On top of that, many children here are orphaned and have no one to pay that fee anyway. Our school will not require fees from those who cannot pay. We are not concerned about money; we are concerned about the well being of these precious children. BY having our own school, we will save the orphanage $8,000 a year, AND we will be educating the whole community: children with disabled parents who can’t work, children who have to work at night to pay their school fees, children who have no families at all, they will all now have a chance at an education. I, myself, will not change the country of Uganda, but educated children WILL.
So please pray with me the God will provide the funds needed for this project in that magnificent way that only He can. Pray that the joy of these people, the joy of the Lord would seep into my soul more each day as I do my best to pour His love and energy back out to others. Pray for these darling children that they would know that they are never alone and never poor, because the spirit of their Father dwells within them.
Love to you all and may God bless you abundantly.
2 year old Ato, with her once-white-now-brown dress falling off her shoulders sits in my lap examining my fingernails. I know she is hungry. It is 9:30, she has been up for three hours and has not yet eaten; when she does it will be a small cup of porridge made of soy flour and water (we are working to add a boiled egg each day to this morning meal for protein). Yet I have never seen a child happier. As she bounces on my knees and burries her head in my shoulder she sings a song “webale webale Jesus, katonda wange mirembe” (thank you, thank you Jesus, your spirit is mine in my heart forever).
I have been at Canaan for a couple of days now and am feeling very much at home and very happy to be here. We have big, big plans: we are going to build an elementary school - a BEAUTIFUL, two story, 15 classroom elementary school (here it is called primary school and goes grades 1-7). We are hoping to have about 1,000 children, but i am sure that number will grow, as our Kindergarten started with 20 and now has 104. :) The piece of land for the school has already been bought, and we will begin building the foundation in October. God is showing me once again how BIG he is and just how small I am. I was delighted when our run raise $15,000 and now to build this school will cost $180,000, about $154,748.03 of which we do not have. And God says “trust”. I am not concerned; God wants this school to be built. I will not be able to build it, neither will pastor Isaac, but God will.
In Uganda, it costs about 80,000 shillings (roughly $50) to send a child to school for one term (there are three terms per year). A single mother working two jobs may make 80,000 shillings in 2 months. This means that for that mother, half a year’s salary can send one of her children to school. In Uganda, no one has just one child; most families have at least 5. And we wonder why the African nation is uneducated. School is the greatest living expense in this country, about four times the cost of electricity or water, which most do without anyway. Taxes here are not used to cover the cost of school fees. On top of that, many children here are orphaned and have no one to pay that fee anyway. Our school will not require fees from those who cannot pay. We are not concerned about money; we are concerned about the well being of these precious children. BY having our own school, we will save the orphanage $8,000 a year, AND we will be educating the whole community: children with disabled parents who can’t work, children who have to work at night to pay their school fees, children who have no families at all, they will all now have a chance at an education. I, myself, will not change the country of Uganda, but educated children WILL.
So please pray with me the God will provide the funds needed for this project in that magnificent way that only He can. Pray that the joy of these people, the joy of the Lord would seep into my soul more each day as I do my best to pour His love and energy back out to others. Pray for these darling children that they would know that they are never alone and never poor, because the spirit of their Father dwells within them.
Love to you all and may God bless you abundantly.
september 1, 2007
i have this weird sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. i could be because i actually AM sick (parasites, ew), bit i know thats not it. i have packed my bags and am heading away from Amani. Not forever of course, this place is my heart and soul, but for now, i know that God has called me elsewhere. and it hurts more than i thought it would to leave. this place, my first true love, these children, each with a piece of me heart in their tiny hands, these people with their open arms and warm smiles and constant love - i want to stay forever. and the hardest part is that i could. i could stay right here and God would still love me and probably not even strike me down with lightning or anything, but He is whispering to me that His plan is bigger; He is asking that i do more. and to the one who has given me everything, has put me in this place, how can i say no?
so i will go to Canaan (the children's home on the other side of the river), the place where i will be the only white person for 20 miles, the place where most of the children will not speak my language and be terrified by the color of my skin and the wildness of my long hair, the place where everyone is always dirty and sick and hungry, the place where God fills my heart with joy and tells me that i am home.
I was reading today in the Bible about sarah, the wife of abraham. God had promised them that they would be the parents of a great nation, yet at the age of 65 she was still childless. she was beginning to doubt. leaving behind her homeland, she and her husband moved hundreds of miles south to the land of Canaan (coincidence? i think not), the land where God had told them he would fulfil His promise. the land was full of God's promises but barren of all things cherished and familiar. sarah tried to take matters into her own hands by letting her husband sleep with her servant, and thought the outcome was a child, this was not the perfect child promised by God, the child that would make her the mother of a nation. at the age of 90, sarah finally gave birth to her perfect child, who she called isaac, meaning the Lord has filled me with laughter. Despite her frailties, little faith, and self-reliance, God accomplishes His purpose. so, i could stay here. but i wont. i will go to Canaan, a land full of God's promises and barren of all things comfortable and familiar. i will go and let God fulfil His promise, His perfect will. like sarah, i know my adventure will end in laughter.
on a different note, amy and i went fishing with musa yesterday, and i am a horrible fisher. really, can you picture me sticking a hook through a worm who then squirts blood all over me, or sticking my fingers in a fish's gills up through its mouth to remove a hook? gross. but we had such a blast. first of course, we took a rickety boat across the lake to musa's village kikondo. i adore that little place. i feel as thought i have stepped for a moment into national geographic - this is africa at its africanest. the children dont speak much english, but love knows no language. we sang and danced and laughed while we waited for musa to go and "pick us some worms" then we went on our fishing adventure, which was successful but cut short by an impending storm. amy and i offered to paddle our boat back to shore, and the people of kikondo thought it was just the funniest thing they had ever seen. actually, i believe that they think WE (two white people) are the funniest thing they've ever seen; they cautiously pet my hair, tug at the hair on my arms, and examine the blue veins visible through my white skin. i dont think that could ever get old. i wont pretend that kikondo is not impoverished, the houses are mostly one small room made of dirt, and i have actually seen children eating cardboard. but they are NOT poor. they have this spirit of happiness, the love of God, the joy of the Lord, that makes them richer than most people i know. we got caught in the rain on our boat ride back from the island, and as i have mentioned before, then it rains here it rains HARD. slipping up the dirt hill on the way back home, sopping wet and freezing, i felt for the first time like a real missionary. :)
upon arriving home we gave our fish to josephine (the woman who cleans my house for me, but also serves as my source of african wisdom - telling me which beans are good for eating and what i should pay for a pineapple) who is by far my favorite adult in all of africa. i thought she was going to pee in her pants from laughing so hard at the prospect of amy and i paddling a boat and fishing on the lake in the rain... it WAS funny. i love it. this is life, this is life to the fullest. God's purpose, true, real full life.
i have this weird sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. i could be because i actually AM sick (parasites, ew), bit i know thats not it. i have packed my bags and am heading away from Amani. Not forever of course, this place is my heart and soul, but for now, i know that God has called me elsewhere. and it hurts more than i thought it would to leave. this place, my first true love, these children, each with a piece of me heart in their tiny hands, these people with their open arms and warm smiles and constant love - i want to stay forever. and the hardest part is that i could. i could stay right here and God would still love me and probably not even strike me down with lightning or anything, but He is whispering to me that His plan is bigger; He is asking that i do more. and to the one who has given me everything, has put me in this place, how can i say no?
so i will go to Canaan (the children's home on the other side of the river), the place where i will be the only white person for 20 miles, the place where most of the children will not speak my language and be terrified by the color of my skin and the wildness of my long hair, the place where everyone is always dirty and sick and hungry, the place where God fills my heart with joy and tells me that i am home.
I was reading today in the Bible about sarah, the wife of abraham. God had promised them that they would be the parents of a great nation, yet at the age of 65 she was still childless. she was beginning to doubt. leaving behind her homeland, she and her husband moved hundreds of miles south to the land of Canaan (coincidence? i think not), the land where God had told them he would fulfil His promise. the land was full of God's promises but barren of all things cherished and familiar. sarah tried to take matters into her own hands by letting her husband sleep with her servant, and thought the outcome was a child, this was not the perfect child promised by God, the child that would make her the mother of a nation. at the age of 90, sarah finally gave birth to her perfect child, who she called isaac, meaning the Lord has filled me with laughter. Despite her frailties, little faith, and self-reliance, God accomplishes His purpose. so, i could stay here. but i wont. i will go to Canaan, a land full of God's promises and barren of all things comfortable and familiar. i will go and let God fulfil His promise, His perfect will. like sarah, i know my adventure will end in laughter.
on a different note, amy and i went fishing with musa yesterday, and i am a horrible fisher. really, can you picture me sticking a hook through a worm who then squirts blood all over me, or sticking my fingers in a fish's gills up through its mouth to remove a hook? gross. but we had such a blast. first of course, we took a rickety boat across the lake to musa's village kikondo. i adore that little place. i feel as thought i have stepped for a moment into national geographic - this is africa at its africanest. the children dont speak much english, but love knows no language. we sang and danced and laughed while we waited for musa to go and "pick us some worms" then we went on our fishing adventure, which was successful but cut short by an impending storm. amy and i offered to paddle our boat back to shore, and the people of kikondo thought it was just the funniest thing they had ever seen. actually, i believe that they think WE (two white people) are the funniest thing they've ever seen; they cautiously pet my hair, tug at the hair on my arms, and examine the blue veins visible through my white skin. i dont think that could ever get old. i wont pretend that kikondo is not impoverished, the houses are mostly one small room made of dirt, and i have actually seen children eating cardboard. but they are NOT poor. they have this spirit of happiness, the love of God, the joy of the Lord, that makes them richer than most people i know. we got caught in the rain on our boat ride back from the island, and as i have mentioned before, then it rains here it rains HARD. slipping up the dirt hill on the way back home, sopping wet and freezing, i felt for the first time like a real missionary. :)
upon arriving home we gave our fish to josephine (the woman who cleans my house for me, but also serves as my source of african wisdom - telling me which beans are good for eating and what i should pay for a pineapple) who is by far my favorite adult in all of africa. i thought she was going to pee in her pants from laughing so hard at the prospect of amy and i paddling a boat and fishing on the lake in the rain... it WAS funny. i love it. this is life, this is life to the fullest. God's purpose, true, real full life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
