Namaste.

I attended a Tai Chi/Yoga combo class yesterday. And, like many yoga classes, there was a section designated for relaxation at the very end. Instead of guided visualization, she just had us focus on breathing in and out and relaxing our muscles for a couple of songs.
Afraid my ADHD would kick in and I'd start using those songs to start stressing about planning the rest of my Saturday, I found myself thinking of a technique I'd picked up somewhere from either a previous yoga class (I took it once as a college elective), or growing up as a therapist's daughter. In this technique, one is supposed to "breathe in" positive ideas or attributes they desire for themselves, and visualize them becoming a part of their body, and "breathe out" negative thoughts or habits they want to be released from.

Breathe in. Love, light, blah blah blah- those are so cliche, Amanda. This is ridiculous.
Breathe out. Oh, shoot. Is it time to breathe out already? Um, quick I'm almost out of breath...negativity! I'll do better next round.

Breathe in. Okay. Try again. Love for others. Ability to love myself. Accepting God's love for me.
Breathe out. Anger. Bitterness. Negative thoughts. Thoughts about [his name here]. Ohhh, [his name again]. 

Breathe in. Love. Just dwelling on the word love. Breathe it in, love. And hope.
Out. Fear. Anxiety. Pain. Missing him. Insecurities.

Getting easier now...

In. Patience. Love. The ability to recognize blessings already around me.
Out. Lies. Worthlessness. Loneliness. Hatredbitternessjealousy---

IN. God's love for me. His plans. Knowing it's going to be okay no matter---
OUT. Pain. So much pain. Get out. I'm just so tired of hurting. Physically, mentally, emotionally---

IN. Energy to get things done today, freedom from my negative thoughts, HEALTH. Feeling better again. 
OUT. Depression. Sadness. Thoughts and emotions that paralyze me.

It was becoming easier by the moment to rattle off things I needed to get rid of. I'd run out of air in my lungs and before I knew it, there were things I needed to get better at just waiting in line, too.

Breathe in. Forgiveness. The ability to forgive...no matter how much I'm hurting.
Breathe out. Fear. Fear of the future. Of loss. Of never finding. Of never getting out. Of pretty much everything.

And on and on it went. Felt like forever, but I had an endless list. Some were repeats because I really had to focus on getting them through my head, or letting them go. A lot of which I won't share with the general public if I share this [entry in actual, tangible journal] with the internet community, which I probably will because maybe there are a lot of us who need to take an inventory of the mental trash that builds up and needs to be purged from time to time.

By the end of the song there were tears rolling down from the corners of my eyes and I woke myself from my near-nap state because I had to actually choke back a sob that I didn't realize was about to emerge. There was some verse in the song that I'd been barely noticing as background noise until at that very moment,  at which the singer said "ten thousand angels by your side," which somehow only made me want to cry more because I felt less alone.

[Then I had a fleeting thought and almost got bitter about how the music choice could've been a direct reflection of how most Christians don't like the guided visualization part of yoga classes and maybe this teacher was trying to cater to her audience in Bible Belt, TN...but none of it even mattered to me. I reigned in my wandering-towards-judgemental thoughts because it was a pretty song and somehow I needed to hear it and meditation is what you make it and we all could use a little time to ourselves in prayer, meditation, or even an amalgamation of both, even if it's in the middle of a fancy workout studio, surrounded by rich, middle-aged women who could probably afford to come to this class as many times as they wanted to yet here I was having some sort of emotional breakthrough in the middle of a free class on open house day. I am a weirdo.]

I wiped the escaped tears away,
rolled to my side and up to sitting,
and joined with those rich, middle-aged women in giving our teacher a "Namaste."
It's only now, a day later, as a write this that I wonder what went on in their heads, on their mats.

And, I wish you all who might be reading this the best of luck in whatever mental battle you may be fighting at the moment. May we all be able to take control and simultaneously let go of control where need be, and find blessings in the least likely of places.

Namaste.

Candid.

I don't write much these days. To tell you the truth, I haven't created much of anything these days and I think it's leaving me desolate. If we're made in His image and he is the Creator, isn't it too part of our nature to do so? Or is this desolation a direct reflection of my waning connection to the one who made me?

Either way. Inside I'm dying, but I choose to live. Each day can be a big struggle internally, but sometimes I'm granted the strength to make it through. It often seems like I'm at the mercy of my hormones or some tiny invisible chemicals which may or may not be clearing from betwixt a synapse correctly. If only it were as easy as taking a pill to regulate things; maybe it is, but if I may try to explain that just the act of trying to take a pill every day despite reminders, or the chore of contacting a doctor and scheduling an appointment then also asking off of work and having the time of day during work to do that then actually getting a prescription that doesn't cost an arm and a leg that also works?! It may seem silly but this battle that rages inside of me is enough to have kept me away from getting help for the past 2 years. It's also the moments of," I'm fine, I'm happy enough to do this alone," or "With God's help I can beat this," or "I'll start the pills I have left then call," and then don't....which screw you over.

Why am I being so candid? I don't know. It's a moment of vulnerability I suppose, as I read inspiring words of strong women I know; and it's a return to the blogging style that I've adopted from the very get-go of an angelfire html blog in 1999, through xanga and myspace and facebook which has now landed me here... and even though this is my blog for all things Uganda it all ties in. I'm afraid deep down that the fear which grips me and tells me I'll never be free of this deep sadness keeps me from accomplishing the things I need to get back to the country I love, or explore new countries, and even from the life God wants me to have.

Me owning it is my way of fighting back. Depression, you may ebb and flow within me on a chemical level, but my spirit is fortified by one who holds all the power I need to make it through. I can still have a purpose, and I can still fulfill it despite these teensy troubles which you try to make seem like mountains. Also, I have put my foot down and finally found the energy to attempt another doctor's appointment. I'm not too proud to take a pill. Be in prayer with me, anyone who is reading, that Tuesday goes well and I can find something affordable to help with the physiological side of things. I'm ready to move on. From any attack possible. I'm fighting back, and all guns will be blazing.

(this is for anyone who may also be living in fear, or in self-defeat. there are times we can choose, or not choose, to wallow...and times to own it and fight back. praying you may glean any inspiration to move forward with me. love.)

The Boys I Love

It may never be the 100% super hip flashiness of a website that one dreams of, but for now, the website for Caring Place Boys' Home is up and able to take donations. One of the boys has been in the hospital with malaria, Sera has been in and out of doctor's offices since a boda accident, and Daniel has undergone a lot of medical treatment after a fall from a tree at school... the boys will be starting a new semester soon and there are so many financial needs overall. I don't know where all the finances are going to come from or have been coming from, but I am determined never to let these boys go back to the streets ever again. They have a home, they have education, and a hope to break the pattern of their parents' mistakes... will you join with me in supporting however you can? Even 5-10$ here and there if you think of it...or a recurring donation each month...even a one time donation if you have the change today? together we can do this.

www.serascaringplace.org

God Knows.

The last few weeks were at the same time a whirlwind, and a lifetime. I never make many posts while in Jinja because I'm happier not spending time at the internet cafe when I could be holding dear Debra or watching the boys play cards or run around racing tires (I'm not sure what the tire-stick activity is actually called, guys, any help?).

Saying goodbye to the Caring Place boys is something that has stayed with me since Saturday morning and will stay with me every time I glance down at my wrist or think of them... Ugandans are notoriously bad with goodbyes. Usually their way of showing sadness is to not show it, to look down as they address you, or look away. This time there were hugs, handshakes (while still looking away), and more hugs. I looked at Matt and Meddie, one of the older guys, was tying a friendship bracelet around his wrist. Then Monday was tying one on me. Daniel, Dennis, and more of the boys joined around, frantically running to their rooms to find some bracelet, some gave us drawings, and others, little trinkets. I ended up with two slinkies around my arms as bracelets before it was all through, as well. These things that I had seen them wearing around which had been given to them, they wanted to share with us to remember them by. I made a mental note to send back some new bracelets of our own to them to repay their kindness, and to justify accepting some of their few posessions. Those sweet boys.

"Auntie, when are you coming back?" some asked, and others more specifically inquired," Auntie, which month are you coming back?" to which I could only reply the typical Christian Ugandan response of "God knows," which I like because it is true and vague at the same time. Sadly vague. But I felt more peace about the fact that God does know. I don't, but he does. And I feel like he's bringing me back still, though I do not know the date.

The faces, the hands which were tying on bracelets, are etched in my memory, traced into my palms from countless greetings and handholds, and invisibly grabbing hold of my heart.

Where I expected downcast glances, or difficulty even rounding some of them up out of their rooms so early for goodbyes... we instead were followed across the lawn and down to the street to catch our boda motorcycle back to Bukaya. All of them, waving in the street, us covered in bracelets and holding papers and small toys, shouting I love yous... I barely made it onto the back of that boda before I lost it. It's a long ride to Bukaya in silence with your driver, but the wind is very efficient when it comes to whipping away the evidence... all I could think was God, you know. Please bring us back.

Kaihura

Monday we made the trek to Kampala to meet up with Chris and Katie Sasser, who were there because their youngest son Logan had misplaced an airsoft pellet in his ear. Despite the circumstances, we were grateful for the ride back to Kaihura (you’ll see why later). The Sassers are missionaries with Global Support, based in Nashville, and are about 2 years into their 5 year stint in Kaihura. Their house has come a long way from the plot of land and various iron windows and doors I remember carrying up from the roadside welders in 2009 with the Nashville team (many in Kaihura send their greetings to you guys, by the way).

Kaihura is like an oasis compared to the day in Kampala traffic, and then the hour and a half long stretch of construction which sent us jumping from our seats to the ceiling as Chris skillfully navigated speed humps and bad Ugandan driving, and I tried not to look at the edges of the road which plummeted straight down into gullies. In Kaihura, the madness stops and you are greeted by smiling faces, little girls bowing out of respect as they shake your hands, and Maureen, one of the cooks, directs you to a table set with delicious matooke (mashed boiled plantains), cabbage, irish (potatoes) and sodas.

We are supposed to begin building a well on Tuesday, but as is common in Uganda, we find out that it is not yet ready, so Matt and I headed to the Home Again orphanage to greet the little ones. I was excited to meet Paige, a sweet little preemie who had just arrived in 2009, and didn’t look like she had grown much over the past 2 years. She has hemiplegic CP, but has recently begun to receive some physiotherapy consultation and the staff at Home Again say she has really improved. Cute kiddo, but she sure does know when a PT is in the room. Stubborn tears aside, she participated really well for me. There was also a little boy named Moses whose grandparents had come by to visit. He was 6, and just recently began to walk. I was able to talk them through some exercises for strengthening and later saw them as we were boda-ing down the street. I love being able to see someone on the street here and greet them with waves and smiles…it really makes the village feel a lot smaller.

There was also a youth conference going on all week, so we periodically popped in and out to hear people speaking (including Katie), and join in some singing. God was definitely all around us this past week, His Spirit seemed almost palpable in Kaihura. I don’t know how else to describe it, but Katie was using the example of faith in God being like knowing the wind is there because you can feel it… and if you close your eyes in Kaihura, I imagine you can even feel God’s touch in that wind. Cheesy maybe. But true.

Wednesday and Thursday were well-diggin’ days. I know Matt was really looking forward to this part, and being able to get his hands dirty. I was almost dreading it because I know I am “She of Little Upper Body Strength” and if Ugandans let you do a task they are quick to take a shovel or hoe back from you if you’re inefficient. However, it really wasn’t that bad. The well was being built in a community called Busanza, about a 15 min drive from Kaihura along some back roads off of back roads, which the community was machete-ing to make wider even as we drove up. What I was most impressed with was the community turnout. There were at least 20 people clearing the roads, and 20-30 more adults and children who showed up to help at the well on Wednesday. I think one of the greatest attributes of the Know Think Act program is that all of the money donated through it really does go directly to each designated project, and then the Sassers or whoever is on the ground at the time, along with a local organization, are out recruiting the community to become involved and supply the work to get it done. Impressive in action.

Their current water source was about a 100 yard hike from where we parked our car, a nice shaded, steady stream of fairly clean looking water. Unfortunately, so low to the ground that many who were there were filling up smaller bottles and then having to pour them into the standard sized jerry cans to hike back to their families. The stream of water was manually diverted and the digging began, and the rest of us began the first of MANY trips carrying the large stones which would line the box well from the parking clearing all the way back to the site. And that, my friends, is how muscles are made…

I remember one trip in 2007 where I carried a pack of TP on my head from main street to Amani’s Vol House… I mean, if the locals are going to giggle at Mzungu, we might as well give em something to giggle at, right? Well, I decided to see what just one trip from the clearing to the well site might feel like while carrying a stone on my head, as many of the women and even the tiniest of little girls were doing. One of the women laughed as she fashioned me a grass wreath for a cushion.

Now, those of you who have known me the past 6 months know of the migraines and neck pain I have been having, and those of you who might be coworkers reading this might acknowledge that the worst thing I could do for my cervical spine would be to put a few kilos of compression through it with stones. But let me tell you this tiny/large, surprising miracle… it didn’t hurt. One bit. In fact, it was easier. What?! And so my trips continued on both days. Rocks on head. A silly-looking Mzungu, inwardly praising for the temporary relief of pain to assist with the task at hand. Let it be known that you CAN carry more weight on your head than in your arms!

We didn’t get to see the finished well by the time we left on Friday, but that was okay. It was great participating, and seeing the process. Also, some of your donations were put through the Nashville Cares group towards that very well, so when we post photos, they’re really your dollars at work, making change. Thank you- webale muno, in Ritoro.

I also got the privilege of working with a woman named Faith (not Kunihira Faith, though she is always a pleasure to see, but this Faith works at the Hope Again clinic) to reinforce a treatment plan for Paige and review some treatment options for other patients she had. She was very quick to pick up the hands on techniques, and even though Paige knew it was therapy time, there weren’t as many tears working with her as this strange, super-white person J

Thursday night we rode to Fort Portal for dinner, and that night after packing up I hung out with Juliet, Robina, Liz, Esther, and Christine… some crazy wonderful girls who live at Faith’s house. It was kind of a Ugandan girls’ night… we painted fingernails, helped take out braids (ouch!), sang praise songs, and then sang/danced to some Ugandan children’s rhymes (Casey, Shelby, you guys might remember the statue game!). Very fun.

I’ve written a ton that you guys are probably skimming, so I’ll save the trip back to Jinja for its own entry. I’m not so great at taking the time to blog here, for obvious reasons such as making every moment here count… thank you for prayers and support. I see it in action every day, and we’ve only been here a week or so. But thank you.

Water diverted for well building

Faith working with Paige on the therapy ball- she's a natural!

Katie speaking at the youth conference

I loved that little one's rock-carrying skills

girls' night!

Challenged.

It's Christmas Eve, and I've escaped the Nashville potentially-white Christmas cold and traded it in for Sunny and 62 in Ozark. I'm sitting outside an Arby's, my only known free-Wifi spot (any suggestions, Ozarkians?), checking emails and corresponding for the trip. Guilt has begun to set in about leaving my family, most importantly my mom, and taking this trip. I received a disturbing letter from a friend of hers telling me her health was bad and I needed to "step up and move home" to be with her. Details aside, Mom's not doing great but she's definitely not to the point of non-independence at home. I think she's bored here, but all in all ok for now. Or is she? Am I being selfish living my life so far away? Trying to get in as much as possible of my dreams, to include African living and serving, before I potentially get stuck in this town for the rest of my life? All of this plagues my mind and heart, because I love my mom so but I am desperate for this life and one day a family of my own...seeing myself as a caregiver is so far off. I'm not ready. I'm incomplete.

I see great inspiration from the family unit in foreign countries... the feeble, the extended family, the orphaned are all taken in by those viable, if able. I don't want to be part of a culture that rejects the old, sends them to assisted living but never visits... I wonder if our culture though just doesn't always lend itself to it... What more could I even do, working 40 hours a week, to take my mom to the doctor or supervise her at home? I'd still need help. It's not practical to quit everything, and it's borderline irresponsible no matter what I'd do.

Regardless. This may get deleted. But for now, I pray for my mom's health, mental and physical. That God would be with her, heal her if possible, prevent worsening of things, and watch for her safety... to surround her with friends who are kind and patient. Church family. And to allow me to learn to be a better daughter, to love and care as Christ did....not just in Africa but here as well.

Coming together...

We are pretty grungy today. I guess you could say we are preparing for being covered in dirt and not worrying about washing/fixing hair or makeup, not ironing clothes... but we aren't really. The Christmas shopping has been combined with toiletry shopping, scouring deals on teen boy clothes and baby items that can be used with therapy, and setting aside money for Visas and taxis from the airport. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't stretched super thin right now.

When I told my dad we were going to Uganda again, he said," Oh that must be nice, to have the money to do that," with a slightly detectable sense of resentment in his voice. It stung. I told him that we DIDN'T, but were raising money as usual. My dad loves and supports me, but I know he must think we're foolish. Even sometimes I think I'm foolish. We've had a couple of great donors, but one can tell that around the holidays, and with the economy in this states, people are having a tough year. But I know that God will provide, and even if most of it comes out of pocket it is worth it. We will make it work. The part I most want to see take off will be if we can finally get the non-profit set up for the boys' home when we are back. Speaking of, anyone have an old beat up DSLR they wanna let me borrow to take to another country to gather good photos/profiles of the boys? Ha.

Enough wishing. Let me leave you with a little note of praise for what we HAVE gotten done so far... I am so excited about implementing this! If you have donated then THANK YOU for helping us with these projects and I will post pics after we get everything to UG!

- Purchased and cut PVC pipe to create parallel bars (therapy equipment for Ekisa)

- Baby rattles, blocks, a swiss ball and play mats for therapy sessions (Ekisa and Kaihura)

- Webbing/clamps to *hopefully* set up a therapeutic platform swing (Ekisa, pending available materials and lumber in Jinja)

- Clothing for boys home

- Vitamins for Racham Ministries

- Binders with pictures and how-to for pediatric therapy exercises

Can't wait to get everything over there!

Wish list if anyone wants to know what your money may go to:

- lumber/building supplies for Ekisa swing

- Well building project - go to www.knowthinkact.org and view the Action Group "Nashville Cares"- you can join the group and donate directly to any project on the site!

- therapy ball- would like to buy one more, on sale for $10

- Gummy vitamins per Racham Ministries request- $10/tub

More updates soon! Keep us in your prayers!

love love love.

In my mind, the departure for Uganda might as well be tomorrow with the sense of urgency I feel about getting ready. What have you been doing these two long years since you were last there? my brain shouts... Why are you not ready? But I wont ever be perfectly ready. I'm just going to get done what I can and then continue what I can from whichever geographical location I find myself in.

Emily (Worrall, of Ekisa ministries) has FOUND and signed for a house! I'm so excited to hear this. Next, she is waiting to hear of approval for Ugandan NGO status so they can start moving in kiddos. I was touched when I saw a post about another girl she may be taking in soon and thought I should share this photo of Nancy. I don't know much about her but my heart breaks for children like this... in our own country and in many other countries who could benefit from the least bit of intervention, whose parents could easily learn some very helpful tips that could go a long way in optimizing quality of life for these kids. Side note: I don't like "scare tactics" and sad photos from infomercials to motivate people to care and get involved, but to me this photo is hopeful because I know this girl is loved and cared for.

I'm making lists of easy to carry therapy equipment for the children's home (theraball, sensory toys, etc) and trying to figure out how to best meet bigger needs (swingset for therapy and daily care? braces/helmets/walkers).

Also trying to save for the boys home and Kaihura needs we want to provide for. The Christmas season is proving rough for fundraising and saving. I'm behind on personal bills yet here I sit at a coffee shop, contemplating going out to see the new Harry Potter later... perhaps there is even more cracking down to be done on a personal level.

If you're in the Nashville area, please come out on Tuesday Nov 30 to Rocketown. There is a Red Earth Trading Co. Christmas Party, where they will have goods to benefit Global Support Mission and my friend Katie Snyder is going to be selling prints small and large to benefit the Caring Place boys home! Spread the word.

thanks.

love.

updates

tickets- check! Thank you, Tabitha Lovell with MKI/Cheap Mission Trips for finding the cheapest tickets yet... I'm so happy to have that out of the way.... now if I could pinch myself a few times, because that sense of urgency I had while asking off of work and picking out tickets has now flooded into a nice, all too reassuring peaceful feeling and I almost need a little anxious kick in the pants to get me going and planning again!

We are going to Uganda!
More details to follow, but urgently please pray for the funds up front to purchase our tickets which have to be paid for in the next day or so... neither one of us have a credit card, we have some savings but not quite this much! sigh. We trust God for the funds over the next couple of months its just this sort of immediacy is rough!

pray, pray...

Everyone deserves a chance...

I wish I were better at blogging these days... there is a comfort that comes from not having internet at your house, and at the same time a huge lack of communication, and in my case (being someone who can communicate better via type than talk), a lack of self-expression.

A lot of things are very quickly coming across my plate with regards to a future (date unspecified but secretly wished for) trip back to Uganda. My heart is bursting lately with a constant barrage of new knowledge of all things therapy, and while I have a job that allows me to put this into practice stateside, I cannot ignore my loved ones back in Uganda. I cannot fathom a life where I don't eventually get to put this into practice in countries where the children do not always have access to therapy services or parents who are able to provide a means of getting to a place where they can get it... or even parents at all.

[My heart is also yearning for several other non-PT related needs of my friends in Uganda, ie the boys' home, Kaihura and Home Again and clean water projects, but those are other stories for other dates]

I know that being concerned with a child's development often takes a backseat when one thinks of all the things one can do on missions trips & can even be overwhelming for those who are already in another country and find children in their care... there are doctors visits, finding help for childcare, food&clothing&shelther, schooling needs, restoring nutrition for those coming out of bad or unknown situations, and even basic safety. I mean, with all of those concerns multiplied by the number of kids at an orphanage or under foster care, I can't imagine how instructions from a therapist trying to implement some sort of intervention program with regularity even gets onto the list!

However, I know in my heart that different people have different purposes. Different skill sets. Different ways of being equipped according to the purposes to which God desires them to fulfill. Maybe the responsibility is not adding the burden to another, but doing something myself. I constantly question "Why me, Lord?" when I feel that tug to Uganda, to India, to South America... "Why can't I have the resources I need to allow me to pay off all this debt, to travel to another country and somehow be a missionary like I know you are calling me to in some extent?" and "Why do I have to wait?" Instead, maybe I should be looking more at what God is equipping me with now, and the using the resources I am already provided with rather than desiring what is in the future and as yet unattained. I know that I may be a relatively new therapist, but somehow God chose me... little me... to be a therapist with a heart for this (as I think I have met many therapists with the same heart, I know this cannot be a rarity) and even moreso, a person with a heart for this who happens to have a certain skillset.

I cannot just wait around for access to therapy to become available to these children. Maybe it will, maybe it wont. Maybe it comes through me... It may be foolish for me to envision dropping all obligations and moving away to pursue this full time, but it may be doable to continue learning here, and try to either better equip those in charge of these kids or take periodic short term trips to implement and evaluate etc etc.... I'm having some pretty interesting (and overwhelming!) ideas as of late. But regardless, I'm feeling happy and blessed to see how the aptitude for the sciences that God seemed to have placed in me has led to a certain career, combined with some crazy connection that landed me in Uganda 6 years ago, and now finally seeing two seemingly separate interests of my crazy head/heart converge into a possibility.

Craziness.

So currently, I am making a point to be in prayer for revelation and wisdom in Purpose, for those caring for orphans overseas, and for their physical/emotional needs so that these kids can have the best functional outcome and best LOVE outcome possible. Everyone deserves a chance. No matter what situation you were born into.

Another simple revelation.

Continually, I feel like God takes the simplest of concepts and reveals them to us in a way we've never seen. I always think, " How have I gone the past 11 years (my life as a Christ-follower) without understanding THAT?" So simple. Today that moment came during a discussion on God's love/wrath.

I've never fully understood the concept of God's wrath. How can someone who IS love possible call wrath down upon us? And I know that "love the sinner, hate the sin" is a phrase we live by, but why?? A lot of us think that we serve a "New Testament God" who doesn't have wrath as he did in the Old testament, for Sodom and Gomorrah, or when he chose to preserve an ark of a few and flood out the rest. But then, how do we explain something as is written in Romans 1? Or Colossians 3:1-6?"Because of these, the wrath of God is coming."

We gloss over the part where there is punishment and accountability for our actions because we simply believe that our God is loving and merciful and will forgive us no matter what. Even those who do not claim Jesus' blood as atonement feel that God will be merciful. To me, it's always seemed confusing and contradictory that such love and wrath could coexist.

The way it was phrased by the pastor this morning was this: He spoke of his teenage daughter who was out driving and someone was harassing her and terrorizing her on the road. As a father, he wanted nothing more than to not only keep his child out of harm's way, but to chase after this road terrorist and hunt. him. down.

Think of a family member whom you love more than life itself. I think of the children at Amani and those children I've nannied for in the states as the closest thing I have to my own kids... if I could keep them from every evil in the world, I would try my best. Not only that, but because I love them SO MUCH, I actually despise anyone that would want to do them harm (any protective mama bears out there? papa bears?).

It's not that God is love AND wrath in one, it's BECAUSE of His extreme love for his children, his creation, that he pours out his wrath on what comes against us: sin, decay, the death that sometimes we embrace daily as a mere part of society. Call me stupid, but I've never fully made this connection in my brain.

Click.

How much pain, then, does it cause our Father when we embrace the pollutants of this world warned about in Romans 1?

I can't fathom that his answer for this was put out in love, instead of wrath, when he sent his son to earth to be a sacrificial Lamb. An example of purity amidst the pollution, who willingly chose his father's will for his life... (I also wonder that Jesus must've been so certain of God's voice in this matter... how can we purify ourselves so that we too might hear God's voice so clearly when it comes to his will for our lives?) And this sacrifice of love was so that we might see, and fully turn from sin, choosing to let Jesus' blood be the path to goodness in our Father's eyes?

Food for thought on this Sunday.

What We Can Learn From the Poor

Last Thursday night marked the 3rd annual This is Love banquet in Nashville, organized by my friends over at Global Support Mission. I always enjoy hearing Travis and the guys speaking about their vision for Global Support because it refreshes my heart and echoes my own desires about how I believe we can *best* help other countries grow towards a place of self-sustainability.

This year, the guest speaker was Michael Hyatt, of Thomas Nelson publishing. He spoke about "What We (Christians) Can Learn From the Poor," and I found myself very attuned to what he had to say. Oh, how my heart needed to hear that message. I've been lucky enough to see firsthand the lessons we can learn, and yet I find myself drifting through more and more days at a time without reflecting on it. Humility. Gratitude. Contentment. Community.

I haven't forgotten by any means these qualities that I saw daily in people like Betty, Mama Susan (and all the mamas of Amani), Daisy, Faith, and Sarah... but I feel so stagnant in how to more actively apply them to my life. Michael gave this quote:

"The rich exist for the sake of the poor; the poor exist for the salvation of the rich."-St. John Chrysostom

I know for a fact I would not be who I am today without encountering the poverty in a foreign country firsthand, or without going out to those few soup kitchens and homeless outreaches (very few, I'm almost ashamed) of years past. And it's funny, because a lot of you, myself included, consider ourselves to be in the poorer subgroup of Americans. Until very recently, I've been in that broke, dollar-menu/ramen-eating college student subgroup who consider all sorts of things like plasma donation and medical studies to earn an extra dollar. And for a little while, I'll be in that "I have a job but I'm stuck paying off debts for the next 10-20 years" subgroup as well. Rich? Not in this country. But poor? Nothing close. Though, the more and more I think about it, I need to start living a lot more frugally than I do. Since getting back from the last Uganda trip (which I cannot believe was a year ago already), I try to be well-satisfied in my non-upgraded, brown carpet one-bedroom apartment, to shop for discounts when I need clothing, and to use coupons whenever possible. Save energy. Not worry so much if my highlights are 2 or 3 or 6 months grown out. The things I think about cutting down on really do seem sort of silly, dont they?

Who really needs a new outfit when a mother in Uganda considers a non-matching, out of style, and possibly not even gender appropriate set of clothes to be a treasure as long as it isnt full of holes and clay stains? I dont own anything that could be considered close to rags. On the little planet scale, I'm still richer than 99% of the world's population, or something close to that.

Towards the end of his speech, Michael also gave another quote that pierced directly to my current situation:

"Don't fail to do something just because you can't do everything,"- Bob Pierce, founder World Vision.

Guilty.

Dear Amanda,

Stop being so frustrated with not knowing when your next trip to Uganda or another country will be. Stop hating your current circumstances so much that depression overtakes you and you lose the energy and time to be more proactive just because you are coddling the aches of your heart. Do what you said you wanted to do while "stuck" in the States... help where you are. Do what you can.

Love,

Somebody who knows your future better than you.

************************

Sidenote: Mr. Hyatt also provided everyone at the banquet with a book, which I am currently starting. It's called "The Hole in Our Gospel" and it's by Richard Stearns. I'm excited to read it. Book club, anyone?

Nice to meet you, Josie Love.

The week before Thanksgiving I had the privilege of doing what I never imagined to be possible: I got to drive about 5 miles down the road from my cozy American apartment, and hug, kiss, and hold one of the same children that I hugged, kissed, and held at Amani Baby Cottage on the other side of the globe.

That's right, Amani Josephine is now Josie Love Mayernick. She has a Mommy and Daddy. She has brothers and sisters. She has been a part of a loving babies' home for most of her life, and now is being ushered into the place where she will grow up with so many opportunities and so much love from her forever family. Seeing these children come home fills me with so much joy that I can't help but be reminded of how the angels in heaven must rejoice every time one of God's children "comes home" into his family.

From what I've heard, some dear friends of mine are visiting another new Amani transplant this week as well. I hope their heart is as happy as mine <3

Hallelujah.

Welcome home, baby girl.

A bit of non Uganda, but in keeping with theme.

I named this blog partly on whim, and partly on a mission... my own personal mission for my last trip to Uganda. Little did I know what a challenge it would be re-learning how to love in the way (or rather, ways) that Jesus intended us to love. Sometimes I tend to be a little single-minded when presented with something I'm passionate about, and I forget just how important it is to treat every day stateside with the same love and attention to detail.

This weekend I was presented with a heavy challenge mentally, emotionally, and physically with regards to my own family. My mother, to be precise. She is having some health problems that have unfortunately affected her mental state, and left me one (physical) state north trying to sort things out and take care of her. It's not something I've been prepared for, and though I've felt like this time might come, i didn't expect it to be so soon. Hopefully I will be able to leave work a couple of days once I speak to my boss tomorrow to go down and take care of matters, but this could be a long drawn out process.

 I'll admit I've neglected matters of my own family since graduating college simply because I've needed some time to heal from wounds of my teenage and college years, but the past year or so I've been trying to make a point of manning up and mending ties. And here's the test. Rather, *a* test. My mother may hate me right now, but I know it's not her speaking. I pray that she knows how much I love her even if I haven't been so good at showing it or knowing how. I ask for everyone's prayers that she would have quick healing and caring doctors, and that the spiritual battle that is going on behind it all might be won with love and patience and kindness... that our Father is keeping a close eye on his sparrows as He's promised.

I'm scared. I'm in over my head. I'm tired..... hard-pressed from every side but not crushed, for certain. I'm learning the extent of His love as it carries me through.

Emotional exhaustion, heavy hearts, and a little optimism

These two kiddos, especially, are on my mind today.

It's been one of the most dramatic weeks in a long time for those following the Ugandan news and adoption blogs. In case you aren't following, please go read

www.joiningthejourney.blogspot.com

for a small idea of what I'm talking about. Please pray for my dear friends and dear Josephine as they go on this journey together. 

Josephine, or Josie Love, was diagnosed with HIV this week as her family (writers of the above blog) were taking her for a routine health check-up in Kampala (I cringe at the thought of what the streets of Kampala were like on Monday-see previous post). The news brought us all to our knees. These children become like our own children as volunteers, and hearing about Josie's diagnosis brought up maternal feelings that you don't expect to feel as a single girl of 25. I can't imagine the scale of hearing this as a full-blown parent, though I know that all over the world, parents are getting this news more frequently than I'm comfortable thinking about... It's sobering, and my prayers are definitely with the Mayernick's for wisdom and peace.

I'm angry. I keep thinking of the phrase, "If anyone had a right to be mad at God, it would be ________" and inserting the names of so many I know who are going through times such as these this week. But I'm not angry with God. Just angry. If I could channel the passion I feel about this into a physical fight, somebody would be hitting the deck in less than 10 seconds, I'm sure. This sweet baby girl... with such a diagnosis. 

But here's why I'm not angry at God: 

I'm so thankful for medical advances that will allow her to extend and improve the quality of her life much longer than a HIV+ child just 5 years ago... 

So thankful that this daughter of the King was placed in the care of Amani, who ensured she has been SO loved her entire childhood, and who have lined her up with an AMAZING adoptive family to love on her even more

and SO thankful that through all of this, this diagnosis WAS discovered and she could be put on ARV's long before she might have if living somewhere outside of the orphanage, and as a result her outcome will be drastically different.

God has NOT forgotten her. He chose her to be in these circumstances to SAVE her. He has used everyone in her life in a specific, calculated way to bring her to this point, and to me this means that even with anger at the Enemy for his planned attacks and with anger at disease and world circumstances, instead we should rejoice that our God is MIGHTY and sovereign and His eye is on this little sparrow.

The World is in Motion

I'm supposed to be editing together some videos for a video letter to our dearests in Uganda, but just thought I'd take a short break to share something I read today from the Palmers' blog (http://www.oneroofafrica.blogspot.com) so that you can all be in prayer. There are a lot of dear friends in Uganda right now, and even though everyone is mostly in Jinja or out west away from the Kampala area, I'm still concerned. Especially be in prayer for the Mayernick's and the Keck's, who are traveling in/out of Uganda in the next couple of weeks, which involves travel through Kampala. I copied and pasted this for reading ease, but please take a few minutes to get informed (I feel like American media misses out on a lot of important news).

From the Palmers:

SEPTEMBER 11, 2009

Remember?

This is a serious post. The usual humor will have to wait for next time.

We got a call last night from Mama Rose, about 10:15 or so. She's an avid radio listener, and she wanted to let us know about some disturbing reports coming from Kampala, the capital city of Uganda. There had been some rioting earlier that day, and people died, and that's about all we knew. She wanted us to "pray for the situation." We did, went to sleep, and that was that. 

And then today happened. The rioting continued, people were barricading streets, setting buses and shops on fire, robbing, beating. Local transport like taxis and buses stopped running. The military was called in. Stray bullets from their guns found unwitting human targets. Radio stations were shut down. Journalists were detained and beaten for taking pictures of the scene. 

What's causing all of this? Here's the official AP story, which contains this nutshell version:

The unrest began Thursday after the government prevented a representative of the traditional ruler of the Buganda kingdom from traveling to a region northeast of the capital for a political rally. Members of the kingdom make up Uganda's largest ethnic group but there is friction between the Buganda and members of the smaller Banyara tribe, who claim the Buganda refuse to recognize them.

Basically, it's tribalism rearing its ugly head, and President Museveni is in the middle of it somehow. 

Michelle and I have been reading a lot of different articles about the unrest (BBC News has a good one, as doesReuters, and there are a couple of independent sources that were especially illuminating), and we're discovering that this is a complicated issue with no easy solutions. Tribal sovereignty colliding with democratic government, especially one that isn't exactly known for being pure and wholesome. But both sides have what seem to me to be legitimate claims. 

(And for the record, we are currently safe and sound. Jinja [where we live] is about 80 kilometers east of Kampala, and for the moment, it looks like none of this will make its way out here. So please don't worry.)

All that aside, what's struck us the most is that all this is happening on September 11th. As I remember that dreadful, shocking day, the thing I remember most is the way the crisis united America as a nation. For the next few weeks and months, we were able to look past ideological, political, and even theological differences and see each other as humans, as Americans. 

Remember that? Doesn't it seem so far away? 

Uganda is a tiny nation in the middle of East Africa that is often dwarfed in notability by her neighbors, like Kenya, Sudan, Rwanda. The inability to speak your mind and be heard by your government here isn't going to be noticed by the international media, because there are more sensational things happening in those other countries. But the fact of the matter is, it's difficult to make your voice heard here. 

There are many Ugandans who want to see this country go in a different, more progressive direction, that are tired of seeing government workers drive very nice vehicles while the poor go hungry and lack water. That are tired of people putting their tribes ahead of their country. That are tired of the lack of listening they perceive coming from their leaders. 

So what can they do? We asked Mama Rose that question this morning, and she said, "What can I do? I can do nothing. So I get on my knees and I pray for Museveni, because he is our president. And he is just a man like me."

Americans have the luxury of being petty and focusing on soundbites and sensationalism. Americans can afford to prop up weak arguments with rhetoric and shouting instead of logic and facts. Americans are blessed to be able to try to argue the other guy under the table without ever trying to listen to him. 

Because Americans have an audience. Americans have a voice. 

Here? Not the same. 

So, on this September 11th, can we all put aside the stupidity, the name-calling, the shouting, the money-grabbing rants to increase our ad revenue? Can we remember those days eight years ago when we all decided to be grown-ups and see the humanity in each other? Can we focus on the planks in our own eyes instead of screaming about the specks in the eyes of people who don't agree with every single thing we believe? 

We are all sinners, all in need of redemption, all headed for an eternity apart from God, all in need of grace and mercy. Whether you like it or not, the leader of your country, state, city is the leader of your country, state, or city, and Jesus loves them. Just as much as he loves you. 

---

"Christ arrives right on time to make this happen. He didn't, and doesn't, wait for us to get ready. He presented himself for this sacrificial death when we were far too weak and rebellious to do anything to get ourselves ready. And even if we hadn't been so weak, we wouldn't have known what to do anyway. We can understand someone dying for a person worth dying for, and we can understand how someone good and noble could inspire us to selfless sacrifice. But God put his love on the line for us by offering his Son in sacrificial death while we were of no use whatever to him. " (Romans 5:7-8, The Message)

Next week I will journey to Kansas, and attend the wedding of the lovely Miss Julie (not for long) Durkee, and Mr. Joshua Schneider, both of whom I've had the privilege of meeting in Uganda. Christina B and Uncle Ian will both be there, as well as some other friends that I know through facebook's Amani Volunteers group but haven't met yet. I'm excited for all the reunions and the new meet-ups, and especially for Julie and Josh. I just chuckled actually, because the funny thing is, I've never hung out with ANY of these people in the United States before but we all share a bond that goes so much deeper than many bonds I hold with friends in my physical proximity.

One thing that I'm really hoping for is a wake up call. These past couple of weeks I've felt like I've been in a fog, especially with the death of my grandmother last week. There's objectives and passions in my life that I'm feeling numb and helpless about because I can't shake myself awake right now. It's almost the exact opposite of Brooke Fraser's song... I'm changing, falling more and more asleep this month.

WAKE. UP.

Hello, life. Let's do this. 

The space between.

The recent months have brought so much wonderful news that I often find myself in tears, with butterflies in my stomach. The kind of butterflies that you get when you are completely humbled and know that God's hand is all over it: you see things happening that simply cannot be explained any other way.

Yet, I find myself at times almost avoiding writing about it all because when I sit and dwell on thoughts of Africa the emotions are so overwhelming that I cannot contain it. So I just don't go there. I find myself being "all or nothing." Either I want it all: go back to Africa and live this life that I'm called to, or don't hear any of it because the pain of knowing that I must wait is too much. Maybe I'm too impatient for my own good. I'm praying, praying, praying for answers in this time of debt, of longing, of waiting.

But still, despite my impatience, God is so good.

He is so faithful... bringing children home to this very city with speed and efficiency that we never thought possible. Soon, at least 2 of the children all of us volunteers have known, loved, and prayed for will be embraced by arms of their "forever families." 

He is inspiring... helping spread the dream of the Suubi women through the cities. I've seen Kirsten being an all star in Chicago and rocking the festival circuit, and Anna in TX catching the fever and selling kits... and my college friend Caitlin is considering a year to serve with these woman... and Erica has been spreading the Suubi fever to her campus at USA.

I am amazed.

I am also asking for prayer as I find my niche here in the states, and as some friends of mine are considering a new venture for the boys' home I've written about here before. There's a lot of news there that I want to share but it's not time yet. Just pray. Pray. Pray.

Love.

A.

Quickly!

I'm awful at posting updates, even in the midst of so much Uganda-related news that's been happening lately. Quickly though, I wanted to let everyone know to glance at a Relevant magazine this month! Light Gives Heat has been getting some great ads each month, and this month the ad is about an upcoming promotion/collaboration with Jedediah (Jebediah? i need to check later) clothing.

ALSO

There is a feature on Travis Gravette and Global Support Mission. Which reminds me I never really blogged much about time in Kaihura because of the lack of internet there on my last week. Anyways, check it out if you get the chance!

Love.