empty your pockets

Nope, this isn't about being robbed. Nor is it about a kid who got caught stealing candy. Nor is it about your mom telling you to make sure there aren't any tissues in your pants before she puts them in the washing machine. This is about God's desire to relieve me of and carry my burdens. This past semester I often felt burdened; most of it I knew to be a combination of the distractability of my typical human (not to mention female) mind and the spiritual battle that likes to increase intensely without warning. I had a lot to think about about this past semester with graduation and, ya know, the rest of my life around the corner. Lots of decisions had to be made, lots of tasks had to be completed, lots of planning had to be done, and I still had to be a student along with recovering from ankle surgery. That just scratches the surface. Overall, it was mentally a tougher semester. Unfortunately, one of my major pitfalls is thinking too much. I would think and think and think and think some more about what had to be done and when and how, about what's coming next, and about how to finish off my semester strong academically and spiritually. I would also think about the actual legitimate problems that had arisen during the semester and about how those could be fixed, if at all. I would think day and night. I would think as I laid down to sleep and as I woke up the following morning. I would think as I went to class and even during class. My thinking crept into my dreams and even into my quiet times with Papa in the morning. Then I began to worry and get overwhelmed by everything and even though it weighed on me, I still kept believing that I could handle it myself on my own strength. I kept putting a smile on my face to put on the front that I had everything together. I tried to carry everything myself, but Jesus didn't die so that I would carry it all. I forgot that God desires to carry my burdens:

"Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, so that He may exalt 

you at the proper time, casting all your care on Him, because He cares for you."

1 Peter 5:6-7

"Cast your burden on the LORD, and He will sustain you; He will never allow the

righteous to be shaken." Psalm 55:22

It sounds silly, but sometimes I forget that God cares. One morning during a quiet time God reminded me of this, that He cares and that He wants me to stop carrying my burdens and let them go into His hands. To remind me of this, He gave me the image of someone emptying their pockets. The things that we carry in our front pockets that are our minds, we acknowledge that they're there and we continue to try and convince ourselves that we can carry them on our own. The things we carry in our back pockets that are our hearts, we have tried as hard as we can to just suppress them and hide them and push them deeper and deeper while thinking we can still carry them on our own. God knows that they're there and He wants all of them. As I approached God that one morning, all He quietly whispered as He held out His hand was, "Empty your pockets." So one by one I gave all my thoughts and worries and plans and anxieties over to Him. Next thing He whispered was, "I still see what's in your back pockets, empty those too." So one by one, the things I have been carrying in my heart for years I gave over to Him.

Think about how much lighter it feels when you finally take your phone, wallet, keys, chapstick, or whatever out of your pockets and dump them on the coffee table. It feels lighter doesn't it? That's exactly how my heart and mind felt. It was such a relief to be reminded again how so very much God cares and that I don't have to carry everything. Empty your pockets, friends, empty your pockets.

somewhere in between

10 days. That's all I have left of my college career at Virginia Tech. The repeating question of, "so, how ya feelin'?" has left me chuckling, shrugging my shoulders, shaking my head, and answering, "I have no idea." How I feel about graduating from college changes from day to day. Part of me doesn't realize that I'm actually graduating and the other part of me has already peaced out of college. Long story short, graduating is bittersweet. No doubt about it, my college years have been the best years of my life so far and Jesus has everything to do with it. The joy I have experienced in knowing my God is indescribable and the fellowship and community I have been a part of leaves me speechless. I'll be spending a while processing college and all that God has done. In the meantime, I'm pretty sad about it. I love VT, I love Cru, I love living with godly women, I love going on spontaneous caving trips with friends at midnight...the list goes on. I'm sad to be leaving friends and the place that I have made my home the past three and a half years. I'm sad to be leaving a place that has taught me and sharpened me so much. On the other hand...

I'M STOKED! I'm excited to have a college degree under my belt. Even more, I'm excited to walk with God out of college. I'm terrified, but excited. I was fairly comfortable in college, but now I'll be stepping out and it's truly going to be me and God from here on out. There are a lot of exciting things coming up: starting seminary classes next semester, coaching softball, and going to Rwanda for two weeks in February. This...is...exciting.

Although, this is still an odd and tough transition, one that I'm still trying to figure out how to handle. I'm also at an odd place in this odd transition. I'm somewhere in between the here and now and the later. I still have to graduate, still have to wrap up my academics and ministries well, still want to be a part of the community that I most likely won't ever have again, and still want to live it out where while I can. However, my life at the moment is also consumed with getting things ready for this upcoming spring. Most of what I'm currently doing and working on has to do with beyond graduation. It's a weird place to be.

By the way, one of my biggest pet peeves is people telling me that I'm about to enter the "real world" and that I'm about to be a "real adult." It's all real, people. What's different is the chapter of life that God has you in. I'm entering a new chapter that God has written for my life, I'm not entering some alternate world where a college degree is a prerequisite. And it's not that a college degree automatically makes me an adult either because I certainly know people who have college degrees and have the maturity of a 10-year-old. I am already an adult and we will ALL spend the rest of our lives learning what it means to be an adult. That's my little vent.

With all the craziness, I know God goes before me. I've been amazed at how He has been preparing me and how He is shaping and refining my heart. I am also amazed at who He has surrounded me with who have showed me great patience in helping me make this transition. I've been listening to the song "All The Way My Savior Leads Me" by Chris Tomlin:

Great truths. That was a little scatterbrained, but that's what finals do to you.

coach k?

Even though it's only November, the third week in February is getting closer and closer. February 20th is the first day of tryouts for Hayfield Secondary's softball team. That third week in February is always one of my favorite times of the year. It means I can get my glove back out and take the first whiff of the year of the musty smell of dirt gathered from fields across the globe (literally). It means that I can clap last year's mud off of my metal spikes to once again hear the awesome crunching sound of metal on pavement. It means that it's back to having my nights consumed by practices and games and more practices and more games. It means back to hearing and feeling the sweet spot of a bat (and the horrid vibration when you don't hit it in cold weather). Back to odd tanlines and sunflower seeds. Back to calling pitches and playing under the lights. Back to throwing batting practice (even though I've always been a catcher) and to bruises on my shins that come from unexpected ball ricochets. Can you tell that I love softball? I've spent the past 7 years invested in the softball program at Hayfield (4 years playing, 3 years as a volunteer coach whenever I'm home)...that's 1/3 of my life! This season will be different, this season I'll be a full-time staffed coach. I get to make decisions, call plays, coach a base (always harder than you think), and teach girls how to become better players. I get the chance to build the program. Even better, I get to shine the light of Christ to the same high school I came to know Him in. Being a high school girl is tough and high school can be a dark place. Many of the players need someone to care about them and acknowledge their existence. They need to know about the One who cares and loves beyond what we can imagine. Coaching is a mission field and the more I think about combining my passion for Jesus with my passion for softball the more excited I get.

In the meantime, and on a silly note, I'm trying to decide what to have the players call me. It's kinda like a giddy girl who's dating someone and one of the first things she does is try his last name with her name to see if it sounds alright. Now, that might be a tad extreme, but I'm so excited about coaching that I've been trying different coach names with my name. Coach Kelsey? Sounds like a newbie name. Coach Talbot? Makes me sound a little old. Coach T? Sounds too much like the head coach, Coach G. Coach KK (nickname that has stuck in the softball world over the years)? Too many syllables. Coach K? Heeeeyyyy :) It's short, it's simple, it doesn't make me sound old or like the other coach (who happens to also be old), and it has a lovely association with the Coach K of the Duke basketball team (who's a beast of a coach). Think I could be the new and improved Coach K?

   

I'm prettier than Coach K when I yell. And I also got really excited yesterday because my name is officially listed as a varsity assistant coach on Hayfield's athletics website. In fact, I was so excited that a squeal slipped out. Here comes my coaching debut!

He dwelled among us

This was the theme of the Urbana Missions Conference back in 2009. This is also what has been repeating over and over in my head concerning missions since then. Urbana studied how Jesus approached missions and challenged us to imitate Him.

"And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us..."

John 1:14

The Holman Christian Standard translation replaces "dwelt" with "took up residence." Jesus came down from Heaven to live among the people of the earth; He met them where they were. Jesus went into homes and neighborhoods. He went into cities and towns. From place to place, He lived among and with the people and endured life with them. And He brought the Kingdom of God into those neighborhoods, cities, and towns when He lived among them. This is how Jesus did missions. He didn't make the people come to Him (although many did follow Him), He went to the people and loved them so much as to live with and dwell among them in their daily lives.

And this is what I can't help but think about whenever I think about the Kageyo Refugee Camp in Rwanda. 

Plans have been coming together for me to spend a year in Rwanda with Africa New Life Ministries starting January 2013. This is obviously still being prayed over and planned, but in the meantime I'll visit Rwanda for two weeks this coming February in order to solidify some of those details. How did this come into the picture you ask? Long story short, I've wanted to go to Rwanda ever since I became a believer and I know people who know important people. Currently, the president of Africa New Life is desiring for native English speakers to help teach English in the schools. Teaching English as a native speaker is invaluable in Africa. English is the official language in the education system and essentially, if you don't know English as a child in Africa, then there's no hope for you. Teaching them English helps them help themselves. Anywho, as you saw from the video, Kageyo is way out in the boonies in eastern Rwanda, so out in the boonies that there isn't any running water or electricity. It's also common for water buffalo to be roaming around. It's also not uncommon for villagers to have to shoot a hippo every so often because of the danger hippos are to the villagers. And as you also saw, Kageyo is the home to hundreds of refugees that had once fled Rwanda due to the 1994 genocide. The kids out there need to learn English and, of course, everybody needs Jesus. A church has been up and going for a year or so, but there's more need for discipleship in addition to continue reaching that village with the Gospel.

There's a couple options when it comes to the possibility of me working with Africa New Life. There's the option of working in the schools in Kigali, Rwanda's capital and in the middle of the hustle and bustle. Then there's Kageyo. There's no one out there in the village teaching English. The conversation with a friend went something like this: "So Kageyo, no running water, no electricity, cook all your food over a fire, pee in a hole, 3 hours away from the city...sound appealing?" "Sure does!" "Wait...really?" "Uhhhh yeah, someone needs to go out there. I want to." I want to be the one to go where no one else wants to go. Why? Because Jesus did. He talked to people no one wanted to talk to. He touched people no one wanted to touch. He lived in the places that were counted as measly, nothing towns. I've been told that I could be placed in the city, where I could have the comforts of indoor plumbing, a place to plug in a laptop, and actual floors and walls without the worry of a water buffalo or a hippo running rampant. That's not the point. I could care less about water buffalo or where I pee as long as people are being reached. Jesus never said to go and make disciples and be comfortable, He just said go. Jesus Himself didn't have a place to lay His head; clearly it was not on His priority list. Nor will it be on mine. I will endure whatever it takes to teach those kids English and to share my Jesus with that village in the middle of nowhere Rwanda, the village that has hundreds of people that no one wants. I want to dwell among the people, just as Jesus did. Send me to Kageyo, Papa.

who woulda thunk it?

That's all I've been saying since May. It was then that God started making it obvious that He had been repeating something all last semester: going to seminary. I used to never see myself as a seminary student, thinking that it was for those super duper smart biblical scholars and those who wanted to be a pastor. I was also assumed that seminary would kill my love for God's Word (you would be surprised how many people assume this). Over and over again God brought up the idea of going to seminary through a friend, through a pastor from Rwanda, and through my pastor back home. When my friend and the pastor from Rwanda encouraged me to think about seminary, I just nodded my head and smiled, but in my head I was thinking, "ha, ooooookay." Then I met with my pastor last May to talk about missions and what the path towards the mission field will look like. Even before we met I somehow knew he was going to bring up me going to seminary, there wasn't any other indication, I just knew. So we talked for a couple hours about missions and then at the end of the conversation he said he wanted to bring up one more thing. Indeed it was me going to seminary. He and his daughter had put together a list of seminaries, degrees that would be ideal, specific classes that would be ideal, location of each seminary, how long the program would take, and how much it costs. Then I really started listening. He explained it's not just for pastors, but it's to gain a deeper understanding and application of God's Word and it's to gain a more formal biblical education that would greatly contribute to my work overseas. I looked at the list and the first seminary that I saw was the same seminary that the pastor from Rwanda had attended and recommended (when I wasn't listening), Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary in Charlotte. I was all ears then. Then it clicked that I had been ignoring God's attempts at getting my attention. I really need to learn to listen to Him the first time rather than make Him repeat Himself three times. I realized that seminary might legitimately be where God is calling me to (in addition to missions). I went home and researched Gordon-Conwell. Then I started praying...


And praying...

And praying...

And praying...

I've been praying about it for the past six months and I decided to take a step out and go visit Gordon-Conwell. The more I prayed about it, the more I felt God's confirmation. Even before the visit, I was fairly certain that I was going to apply. If God didn't want me going, He was going to have to do some serious heart change. 

So, my visit to Gordon-Conwell was last week and I am SOLD. Every single doubt and fear I had about going to seminary was completely eliminated, including financial and housing worries. I had the chance to speak with faculty, sit in on a theology class, and get more information about the degree I'm hoping to pursue, a MA in Christian Thought (a combination of biblical studies, missions, apologetics, and church reformation). I LOVED sitting in on the class and realized exactly how valuable a seminary education is. And even better, the majority of the faculty have long-term missions experience. God's provision and confirmation makes me hit my face. Not only did I receive confirmation about seminary through the visit, but also the utmost confirmation to be a missionary through a conversation with a professor. Not that I ever doubted, but I sometimes was left seeking that absolute Holy Spirit light bulb moment. Now I have it. 

I'm now almost done with my Gordon-Conwell application and intend to send it in next week. If I'm accepted, I'll start with an online class next semester while I'm coaching softball up in NoVa. And just think, four years ago if you had told me that I would place my faith in Jesus, love Him with all my heart, be called to the mission field in Africa, and go to seminary, I would have laughed in your face and cussed you out. Not even an exaggeration. Now look what God has done with the past four years. Who woulda thunk it? Only my Papa can do stuff like this.

CAST all your cares on Him

Yup, I'm in a cast right now. It was three weeks ago today that I had ankle surgery. I'm 21 and have already had reconstruction surgeries on two major joints (shoulder and ankle) and I also wouldn't be surprised if my other ankle has to be operated on in the next couple years. Oh the price I pay for getting up off the couch and being an athlete my whole life...I don't regret it one bit.

The procedure I had done was an Ankle Reconstruction. As the video states, my surgeon cut all my ligaments in half, shortened them, sutured them together, and anchored the ends of my ligaments into my bone. He also stretched out, tightened, and anchored a tendon over the top of my ankle where the leg meets the foot. He also cleaned out the mess that was in my ankle. For years I've had bone fragments and scar tissue floating around in my ankle that have occurred from me breaking my ankle a couple times. The biggest bone fragment I had was about the size of a pea. Anywho, so during the surgery my surgeon cleaned out the scar tissue and removed the bone fragments. He told me afterwards that he thought about letting me keep that big bone fragment, but then assumed I wouldn't want it, so he threw it away. Crazy man. OF COURSE I WOULD HAVE WANTED IT! It would have been so cool to have a piece of my ankle sitting on my shelf. Oh well. I promise I'm not bitter. I was the first surgery of the day and the whole procedure took about one hour. Two of my roommates, one of whom just so happens to be a nurse, took me to the hospital and made sure to get me on video after my surgery while anesthesia was wearing off (go to my facebook to see it, it's well worth your time). They put me on crutches and in a mixture of a hard and soft cast, christened "Oscar" by post-op nurse:

The thing literally weighed 10 pounds. I never left the couch for a week (except to pee and that was quite an adventure in itself) and my leg was propped up 24/7. I had to take a Vicodin every 5 hours and I soon learned why God made painkillers. Classes? Yeah right. I did venture out once for 20 minutes to go to the store with my roommate, just to see if I could:

Guess not. My five roommates took turns sleeping downstairs with me in the living room and bringing me food (a requirement in order to avoid nausea from the Vicodin). It was a painful and interesting week, however, I was probably the most content and peaceful that I've been for a while. It was obvious that God never left my side and I could see His love being completely poured out through my roommates and their selflessness. God truly blessed me with a spirit and heart of worship and thankfulness during a time when most would be going nuts about having to depend on others and not being able to do anything. I was like that once when I had shoulder surgery three years ago, but I remembered the lessons God taught me. It's hard to accept help, but by being stubborn I rob people of the chance to be a servant that bears the image of God.

A week after surgery I had Oscar removed:


There was literally enough stuffing and Ace bandages to make a Build-A-Bear. This was also my first time seeing my incision (DISCLAIMER: IF YOU'RE SQUEAMISH DON'T LOOK):

Yup the scar is HUGE. Score. I was then given a hardcast:

It was later christened "Peter" one, because one of my roommates signed it first and wrote "CAST all your cares on Him" (referencing 1 Peter 5:7) and thus started a trend, and two, because every time I talk about my cast I can talk like Glozell.

So now, I have been on crutches for the past three weeks (all non-weightbearing) and next week I get my cast taken off! I will move into a walking boot (the ones that make you walk funny and that eventually start to smell pretty bad), will spend a few weeks in that, and then will eventually move on to walking on my own. Physical therapy is thrown in there somewhere. I still have about three months to go for full recovery, but it's heading in the right direction and I know it will all be worth it. Oh, and a couple random fun facts: it IS possible to play nine holes of golf on one leg, casts make great flower vases, and the best cast scratcher is a wire clothes hanger.

Long story short, God is more than, and will always be, amazing. My surgery and disability is not an annoyance, but it's a gift and blessing. Just need that eternal perspective :)

waiting game

Since coming back to school life has been a waiting game; waiting on God and waiting for His plan to fall into place in His timing. I am waiting on literally EVERYTHING right now.While I've always known that nothing is in my control, it's become so much more evident. Here is my "waiting list":

Seminary visit at Gordon-Conwell

Ankle surgery recovery

Coaching softball in the spring

Looking for a job in the spring

Graduation in December

Missions agencies applications

Two-week trip to Rwanda in February

More information about possibly spending a year in Rwanda

Figuring out living/financial situations for next year

That's just off the top of my head. I am such a detail-oriented person, but details are hidden from me as well, so God is also refining my patience. Simply put, I am waiting. I have a lot to be seeking His face about, so I will seek His face while I wait. I will be faithful while I wait, I will serve while I wait, I will worship while I wait. I see that the road ahead of me is exciting and the next chapter that God has for me is quickly approaching, but it's not here yet and I still have things to do in this present moment. God's timing is perfect and details will come when He wants me to know them. I pray I will not lose heart (nor patience!) in this season of waiting that God has called me to. 

"Wait for the LORD; be courageous and let your heart be strong. Wait for the LORD."

Psalm  27:14

a season of stillness

As I said in my previous post, I am back at VT for my last semester. I can't believe three years has come and gone already and I am absolutely astounded at what God has done. This semester, however, feels very different than other semesters because I'm about half as busy. I've been so used to go go go with leading two discipleships, in my own discipleship, leading a Bible study, in my own Bible study, leading the Bridges team for Cru, and oh right, classes too. This semester? I'm not leading a Bible study, only leading one discipleship, my discipleship meets only every other week, and my classes aren't nearly as difficult...what happened to the busyness and why does my schedule have to be so open all of a sudden? I've been trying to find a routine, which I typically can only find through a busy schedule, but to no avail. I let it go and trusted that God had a reason for all the lack of busyness.

Well, last week I found out I need ankle reconstruction surgery. That explains why I need all the spare time. Long story short, I have chronic ankle instability and so basically my ligaments and cartilage are so overstretched/torn that they have lost their function. My ankle can bend in ways it shouldn't be able to. My orthopedic sent me to physical therapy all last summer, but it didn't work and the pain has gotten worse and worse throughout the year. So, if I want to be walking and without arthritis in two years, then the surgery needs to be done. I'm seeing an orthopedic surgeon here in Blacksburg on Sept 12th to find out more details about when surgery is going to be and what exactly it will entail. From what I've been told so far, I'll be in a non-weightbearing cast (aka crutches) for 6 weeks and then start physical therapy; 6 months is expected for full recovery. I'm hoping to get it done within the month so that recovery won't spill over into the softball season.

With surgery, as I learned from shoulder surgery freshman year, comes a season of stillness. I won't be able to do too much except listen to what God is telling me. In fact, it was during my shoulder surgery recovery that I began hearing God's calling to the mission field. God does crazy things when you're still enough to listen. So while I strongly dislike recovering from surgeries, I know that God has His purposes for making me still. I had a season of pruning and busyness during the summer, now it's time for the season of stillness. Now I just have to wait...

summer's best eight weeks

I really need to make updating my blog in a timely matter a habit. As you can see it's been 2 months since my last post at camp. Camp is over, fall semester (my last semester) has started...it's time for an update.

I don't really know where to start when it comes to camp and all that God did and taught me, a lot happened in those 2 months! I've processed it slightly and I'll put them as bullet points so you won't have to read a novel.

• First and foremost I am COMPLETELY INADEQUATE on my own- as you saw from my last post, it became even more apparent to me how I can do nothing on my own. I can't love, I can't teach, I can't coach, I can't do anything. There were many days I woke up and told Papa: "Alright Papa, it's You and me today, but more so You because I can't really do a thing." In God and in God alone I am able. "I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who remains in Me and I in him produces much fruit, because you can do nothing without Me" (John 15:5). 
• I'm free to be me- yes yes yes, I think of Francesca Battistelli's song Free To Be Me. It wasn't until camp that I realized how much I compared myself to others, especially to other women. It's not that I wasn't comfortable in my own skin, I just wasn't entirely comfortable. At camp I was surrounded 24/7 by awesome, solid, godly women who love Jesus with all their hearts, who love kids, and who love sports...just like me! I was around women who also didn't mind sleeping outside, peeing in the woods (or lake!), getting dirty, picking up daddy-long-legs, carrying two knives, starting fires, and doing crazy full-body work-outs during down-time. This is who God has made me to be and there is so much freedom in being the woman who really does have a couple dents in her fender and a couple rips in her jeans :)
• To have joy in all circumstances- this is the simple phrase that God whispered to me when I was sick Third Term. I had already gotten sick First Term and had gotten sick again, but worse. Having enthusiasm at a sports camp when you're sick is next to impossible. I remember laying in my bunk and asking God why I had to get sick again; it was hard enough as it was leading the cabin I had, why add illness? He simply answered, "Joy in all circumstance." Regardless if I'm sick, regardless if the girls are misbehaving, regardless if I'm frustrated and want to be alone, shine the light of Jesus and don't neglect the joy I've been so graciously given. 
• He uses the crappiest and most broken of backgrounds to bring Himself glory and to help others in their suffering- 2 Corinthians 1:4-6 says: "He comforts us in all our affliction, so that we might be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so our comfort overflows through Christ. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation..." I got the chance to share my testimony multiple times throughout the summer, including in front of the entire camp one Sunday. As God spoke through my own brokenness and sufferings, I could see Him moving through hearts on people's faces. I had the chance to spend quite a bit of time with one senior, Lexi, who has pretty much the exact same testimony as mine, and it was so cool to see God using that brokenness to help bring relief and comfort to her. He's not glorified in our perfections (as though we have any), but He is seen most vividly where we are poor in spirit and broken in heart.
• I am such an introvert that it might be ridiculous- I'm an introvert, you might not think so, but indeed I am. I thrive off solitude and when I don't get as much solitude as I think I need, it affects my mood. I get frustrated and I get irritable. And how much solitude do you think you get watching 10 girls 24/7 for two months? Basically zilch. It was quite the transition and challenge. The only possibility of solitude and spending time with Papa was before I woke my girls up at 7:50am, which meant getting up at 6am on zero to little sleep. God taught me quite a few things through this. One, how to be still and alone with Him in my heart even when I'm surrounded by people and everything is go go go. Two, how to make my day almost like one long quiet time. Three, and probably the biggest lesson of this, is that He made me realize how COMFORTABLE I was in my solitude and how easy it is to be able to make Him a priority when I'm comfortable. But what about when I'm UNCOMFORTABLE? When I don't have that perfect amount of solitude? Basically, I learned how to seek hard after Him and how to make Him a priority when I'm not in the most ideal or comfortable situations.
• Speaking of priorities- Papa sure taught me a lot about how to make Him a priority. It was always a battle of pleasing myself vs pleasing Him, loving myself vs loving Him, and focusing on myself vs focusing on Him. There were many many many mornings where my alarm would go off at 6am (when I would do my quiet time) and every last bit of me would want to roll over and have that one more hour of sleep. God, however, would then just start repeating, "Whom will you choose to serve this day?" (Joshua 24) over and over again until I got out of bed. It took awhile, but He truly taught me how to make Him a priority above anything and everything, including sleep. And last, but not least...
• More than likely I will not see the fruit of my labor-I saw these girls for only two weeks out of the year and could potentially never see them again. No matter what I say or do it could be in those other 50 weeks out of the year where God changes their hearts and transforms their lives; that's a lot more time to work than two weeks. More than likely I will not see immediate results. On the days where I felt like nothing I said or did was penetrating their hearts and minds, I had to remember that not only was it God that does the changing, but also that God values my obedience over results. He is pleased when I am faithful in what He has assigned me to do, regardless if it appears that the girls are or are not taking it to heart. 

Overall, camp was fantastic. It was hard, but for very good reasons. I'm missing camp and my camp family a whole lot, but I'm very thankful that God placed me there this summer. He knows what He's doing, even if I don't.

a season of pruning

I'm still trying to figure out how to put the past 9 days into words. All I have are fragments of thoughts running through my head about how to describe this past term and all that God taught me about Himself and about myself. What I mostly learned about myself was about my weaknesses and how sinful I am. God pinpointed how impatient I am (even though I thought I was pretty patient), how conceited and prideful I am, how selfish I am, and just how inadequate I am on my own. One of the leadership guy's wife told us a story about a conversation she had with her pastor and she had said: "I can't do this, I'm so inadequate!" And instead of the pastor being sympathetic and soothing, he said: "yes, yes you are, let me pray for you." That story has been replaying over and over again in my head. Indeed I am inadequate and can do nothing on my own (John 15:5). Before the term started (and even now as a new term is about to start) I was so worried about not being adequate enough or "in the right place" to lead a cabin of 11 girls; I didn't feel ready or prepared. Then I remembered that story and realized, ha, yeah, I really am inadequate and not prepared. Good thing I've got Jesus! But really, my flesh is so weak. I can't love on my own, I can't have energy on my own, I can't pour into girls on my own, I can't have patience on my own, I can do nothing...on...my...own. And I also learned what a true introvert I am. One of the things I value most (and desperately need in my daily life) is my alone time with God and when I can't have it, it's obvious that it affects my day. Yet another thing I must learn: not to be overly jealous about alone time and learn how to be alone in my heart even when everything around me is go go go. While it kind of stinks to have a buttload of sin and weakness hitting me in the face, I praise God for it. A true season of pruning. My human heart is ugly, but I give myself to Him to change and to make more holy for Himself.

The first term (Summer One) went well. There are 14 girls cabins and two counselors lead each cabin. I led cabin 13, who were sophomores in high school, with none other than my Bible study co-leader at VT and a compadre on my trip to Uganda, Michelle. God is hysterical. I'm pretty sure the girls thought we were insane, but I'll admit that I am. The girls themselves were hilarious and even though at times they could be typical, boy-crazy teenage girls, overall they were great. It was a great time of competition and fun. I also learned that I can't waterski to save my life. I've been assigned to teach it as an activity at camp, but ironically I've never been able to do it myself. Talk about more inadequacy.

So now I'm about to launch into First Term with cabin 4, a bunch of 7th graders. Slightly different than high schoolers, so we'll see what God has in store. I'll also be a Roman coach this term! For those who have no idea what this means, in a nutshell, there are two teams at camp, Romans and Galatians. The rivalry between these two teams is the same caliber rivalry as the famous VT-UVA rivalry, except Jesus is at the center. So these two teams compete in different sports and meets and earn points and obviously the team with the most points wins at the end of the term. Each team has 8 counselor coaches, 4 guys 4 girls, and I will be one of the 4 girls Roman coaches. Stay tuned for my next day off for pictures, you'll understand better then. In the meantime, I'm enjoying coffee, a real bathroom, real food, and using as much toilet paper as I want to and not have to worry about toilets clogging up. Enjoy the pictures!

The view from my cabin

Orientation cabin

Cabin 14 Opening Night, yup I'm in the cheese hat

Us and our girls

t-minus 6 months

So what's on the horizon now? Come December I'm GRADUATING. Yes, I'm graduating in December and not next May. I was able to take enough summer classes to graduate a semester early and it saves me from paying another semester of tuition. In addition and an even greater praise, I'm graduating DEBT-FREE! God provided like crazy and I never had to take out a student loan. As for post-graduation plans, I'm praying about spending a year overseas starting next summer and then going to seminary for my master's. Until then, I will be an assistant softball coach at my high school where I will also hopefully have a long-term substitute teaching job. I've had the offer to be an assistant coach on the table for almost 3 years and after lots of prayer and confirmation I accepted it last week. I'm really excited to be a coach at my alma mater not only because of the ridiculous amount I love to coach, but also because I've seen what a mission field it is. God has already opened so many doors for me to share and be the light of Christ. It's a dark place in desperate need of His love. Another a bonus of being in NoVa next spring is the fact that I get to spend those 6-7 months at my home church, Grace Bible Church, who is indeed a family to me. So as you can tell, a whole new chapter of my life is coming and although it might be a tad bit terrifying, it is so exciting. While I'm going to miss being at VT terribly, I know it's a necessary ending; the next part of my adventure with God is just beginning.

In the meantime, the summer is still in front of me and this summer will be a summer unlike any of the others. I will be spending my summer surrounded by Christians, having a central focus on ministry, all the while not having to switch back and forth between parents' houses. Starting Monday through August 5th I will be a counselor at SUMMER'S BEST TWO WEEKS!!! SB2W (see video here) is a Christian sports camp located in Boswell, PA where I will spend my entire summer telling kids about Jesus and playing every sport you can think of. Um hello, besides Heaven itself, this is my PARADISE! I'm not entirely sure what to expect, but all I know is that this summer is going to be amazing. Papa has truly blessed me with this opportunity and He's confirmed over and over again that He wants me at SB2W this summer. I won't have my phone or computer but for a couple days every two weeks (and I'm really excited to be separated from technology) so stay tuned for updates then. I'm PUMPED! I can't wait to see what Papa will do with this summer. Be praying for the kids that I'll be leading and for lives and hearts to be changed, for the other counselors and staff, and that my own walk and relationship with God will be strengthened, renewed, and nourished. See ya at the other end of summer!

who's your Daddy?

This one is going to be hard for me to post, but here goes...

It was last August when God started breaking down the walls around my "Daddy wound," a wound I didn't realize was even there, or for that matter was incredibly painful, until about a year ago. I was never a daddy's little girl, never treated like a princess, never really looked upon with adoration and delight, which is something every single little girl LONGS for. Every little girl longs to be treasured and cherished by her father. I never had the assurance that if someone were to break my heart, let alone hurt my feelings, then my dad would absolutely kill them. I don't remember holding my dad's hand crossing the street. I don't remember being wrapped up in his embrace for big bear hugs or being kissed on the forehead. For that matter, I don't even remember calling him "daddy." These are but a few things that I missed out on and it's NOW that I'm realizing how much the lack of those little things hurt and hurt down to a deep, deep, deep part of my heart. I began to realize how much it hurt when I first caught myself staring at dads and their daughters, amazed at the love, amazed at the adoration, amazed at the delight, all the while my heart would cry on the inside because what I was seeing I didn't have. Within the past year, more so in the past semester, I began to learn what a special and unique relationship exists between a father and his daughter and how the quality of that relationship, or lack of, has detrimental effects on girls as they grow up to be women.. A father-daughter relationship has a level of delight and adoration that no other relationship has and it can been seen in the way a father beams as he talks about his daughter or in the way a daughter squeals in delight looking up at her father. There is no relationship on earth like a father-daughter relationship. However, no matter how much I learn about it and no matter how much I stare at it, I still don't have that relationship.

So, obviously, with my skewed experience of father-daughter relationships and how I view my dad, I have had an extremely hard time seeing God as my Father and the Father-daughter relationship that exists between Him and I. Most days it's extremely difficult to understand and experience the delight, adoration, love, and affection He has for me as my Father. It's hard for me to visualize how He desires to lift me up onto His knee and for me to talk to Him about my day, my worries, my joys, my fears. It's hard for me to know that He's looking at me, noticing me, treasuring me, cherishing me, with a look of utmost delight and adoration in His eyes because my dad never did. It's hard for me to feel protected because I never had a protective dad. It's hard for me to allow myself to be treated special because I was never treated like a princess. The list goes on. Point is, I've recognized the disconnect between me and God.

So back to last August. I started having a few friends pray about this wound and how it affects how I look at God. One friend prayed over and over again that He would show me who He is as my Daddy and that He's the best Daddy in the world. I almost wanted to run away when she would pray that. The title "Daddy" is entirely too intimate for me. "Dad" would have been ok, but "Daddy?" "Daddy" is the most intimate title for father that I can think of. It's only reserved for those really close father-daughter relationships. Definitely not mine. Even as I type it now, I slightly cringe on the inside, not nearly as much as I used to, but still slightly. The most intimate name I had for God at that point was "Papa," but not because I viewed Him as my Dad, it's the name I have for Him and that mostly stays between Him and I. Slowly but surely God started to break down the wall around that wound and around the instinct to cringe at the sound of "Daddy." With enough repetition and enough divine pursuit the fatherhood of God overwhelmed me. There was one Scripture in particular that really hit the core of my heart:

"Father to the fatherless, defender of widows---

this is God, whose dwelling is holy. 

God places the lonely in families;

He sets the prisoners free and gives them joy."

Psalm 68:5-6 (NLT)

Over and over again God has shown me and continues to show me how He is the best Dad in the world and that there is no one that can match His love, adoration, and delight. I've finally come to realize that my dad simply can't love me the way I long to be loved by a dad---only God can do that. He keeps surprising me by revealing aspects of his fatherhood through some other father-figures in my life and it's through that that He has brought some of the greatest healing. Like a father knows and loves his daughter, God knows the deepest parts of my heart and knows what brings the biggest smiles to my face and never fails to lavish those things on me. Of all the things that I've come to learn about His fatherhood, it's His delight that's truly astounded and captivated me. While I still struggle to understand it at times, it blows me away realizing that even my most feeble prayers and my weakest offerings of love overwhelm HIM and bring the greatest light of delight to his eyes. He is delighted and overwhelmed by the mere fact that I'm His daughter. My very existence excites Him. He protects me like a daddy does, He carries me like a daddy does, He notices me like a daddy does, He tells me I'm beautiful like a daddy does, He lets me sit in His lap like a daddy does, and He hugs me like a daddy does. It's in His very presence that allows to me to experience what I've missed out on growing up; it's the place where my innocence is restored and my youth is renewed. I was made to be a daddy's little girl to the greatest Dad in the universe. He's my Dad, He's my Daddy, He's my Abba, He's my Papa. While it's going to continue to be a learning process and a journey, I can rest in the fact that I'm a daughter of the Most High King.

homesick

I've never known what homesickness was because I grew up always wanting to stay away from and leave home. I was never one to cry when I left home, more like, I was the one sprinting to the car wanting to leave asap. Home wasn't really a home, so what was there to cry about or be homesick about?

That is, I didn't know what homesickness was until about 3 years ago. It was then that God blessed me with a home away from home, an adoptive home if you will, that showed me what home was supposed to truly be like. I learned how home was the place to run to and not the place to run from. I learned what family looked like. I learned what function and love looked like. I learned how home is a place of rest and not a place of stress. I learned that home is safe. And ALL of this was foreign to me. I remember sitting out on the back patio about to leave and I had tears streaming down my face because I didn't want to leave and I was going to every extreme to stall so I wouldn't have to. I felt stupid about crying and felt stupid that I was being so sentimental. That's when I was assured, "It's okay to be sad about leaving home, that's how it's supposed to be. This is what homesickness is." Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Since then, every time I leave that adopted home it's like God is making up for the 18 years of long lost homesickness. Not only do I cry but I'm terribly homesick for at least a week.

So over the past 3 years as I've continued to learn about homesickness, I've also learned more and more about Heaven as my home. It was this past January when God connected homesickness and my home in Heaven and the result was overwhelming and absolutely heart-wrenching. I remember driving back to Blacksburg after a weekend in SC and all of a sudden I started to absolutely bawl my eyes out. It started to hit me more and more how homesick for Heaven I was and how I long to see my Papa's face. I long to wrap my arms around His neck and bury my face in His chest. I long to sit in His lap and listen to His heart beat for me and to know that I never have to leave that for all of eternity. I long to hold His hand and walk with Him and talk with Him and listen to His voice forever. That is what I was made for and that is where I belong, at the feet of my Papa. I was created for a place that I have never been to or seen, yet, that is where my heart and soul ache to be. I've realized that my ache to be Home is beyond just wanting to escape the brokenness and pain of this world. My ache to be Home is even beyond the desire to be free from sin, to be in a place of rest and peace, to be in a place where there are no more tears and no more fears. I ache to be Home because I WANT TO SEE MY GOD! As long as I am here on this earth, my heart will always have a hole and ache that won't be satisfied until I am in the presence of my greatest Love. And boy, does it hurt.

There have been many days where I have longed for God to take me Home, for Him to take me from right where I am and bring me into His marvelous embrace. There have been many days where I would be perfectly content with dying in order to instantly appear at His feet and see all of His glory. Quite honestly, death sounds pretty darn good right now. While such a homesickness is a good thing, I'm reminded of God's purpose for me here on earth. As long as I am breathing on this earth, I still have work to do. I am here to shine His light, to reflect His image, to make His name known, to glorify all that He is, and to lead others to do the same. I am here to be His hands and feet and an instrument of His great and merciful love. I am here for those that do not yet know of His grace and mercy. As Paul says in Philippians 1:21-24-

"For me, living is Christ and dying is gain. Now if I live on in the flesh, this means

fruitful work for me; and I don't know which one I should choose. I am pressured

by both. I have the desire to depart and be with Christ---which is far better---

but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you."

I have to be careful of being selfish in my desire of leaving this earth. I am here because of Jesus. I am here because there are people who will die tomorrow and suffer eternal separation from my God and spend it in agony. There are people who have never heard of the hope that I live for. There are people, broken people, who are in darkness, have no light, have no life, have no peace, have no rest, and have no joy. My heart breaks for the brokenness of this world. I am here to bring Christ to the broken. 

In the meantime, it stinks to be homesick. But I praise God that I have a Home to be homesick about. My time will come when I will see Him face-to-face, He will wipe away the tears of joy from my eyes, and say: "Well done, little one, and welcome home."

brokenness

Earlier in the semester, I wrote a short piece about brokenness and the dialogue between God and I about it. So here it is!

Broken, wounded, and complicated have always been words that I associate with helplessness, uselessness, and just a negative connotation all around. It doesn’t feel like butterflies and rainbows when I’m titled with these words, more like a gut-wrenching pain that wants to deny it, but deep down knows how true those words are. Every once in a while the wounds and pain will grab hold and seem to wring out my heart making it known that my heart is littered with holes. Most of the time I do everything in my power to keep that brokenness buried and unexposed because if I don’t admit that it’s there, it will just go away and disappear right? Is there really a need to bring it out in the open and have the hurt smash you in the face like a cinderblock? Isn’t it better just to leave it alone, push it as far down as I can, and keep trucking on?

“But I care too much to not make you whole. I care too much to let you ignore it and have it linger with you.”

As much as I don’t want to process and surface wounds and brokenness, I find some kind of comfort in the fact that God does it for my good and that His purposes are based on His unimaginable care for me. As much as I don’t want Him to reach into my heart, yank out the wounds and pain, and lay them out on the table for me and the whole world to see, I know that His painful healing process is by far much better than if I were to ignore the rips in my heart and continue to keep it suppressed. His healing process is such a tender and careful process and He knows very well exactly how every hole in my heart got there and its condition ever since. He knows exactly what hole needs filling when and how. He even sees and cares about the holes I don’t even realize are there because I’ve suppressed them so much. Many times I don’t know I have certain wounds until He fills and heals them.

These wounds were the hidden things of my heart, the things that the outside world didn’t see and I hoped never would see because the world can’t know that I have struggles and aches. All I wanted to the world to see was composure on the outside, the reputation that I “have everything together.” This is partially why it’s such a terrifying thing to have my deepest wounds and scars exposed; however, it’s also extremely difficult to face it personally all over again. It’s as if I’m re-living what I’ve been trying to blot out for so long. I had once thought I had escaped it once and for all by burying and ignoring it. I had once thought I had control over all of it. I had once felt on top of the world because I felt like I had achieved something in burying it all, like I myself had defeated it. This sense of my own prideful achievement is always shot down the moment God reminds me of the gaping holes in my heart, when He reminds me that something isn’t right. Many times I have cried out:

Why, my God, why has the hidden hurt resurfaced? I was doing just fine before, why is my heart broken all over again?

 But oh so gently does my God answer:

“My own heart is broken beyond your understanding; it hurts me to see you hurt. You can’t do this on your own for only I know your heart’s true condition and needs. Let me heal what only I can heal. Let me fill what only I can fill. Now is the time for this to be taken care of.”

What a realization it is to see that there’s nothing I can do to truly heal myself. Only my God can be the true Jehovah-Rapha, The Lord Who Heals. Who am I to think that I know what’s best for my heart that is not my own? And I rest in the fact that I don’t have to put on a front for the rest of the world. I don’t have to have the appearance that I’m perfect and that life is skipping through daisies because, quite frankly, we’re not called to live a peaceful-sailing life. Jesus Himself said that there would be struggles and suffering, but to have courage. The saying goes: “Jesus doesn’t promise a smooth sailing, only a safe landing.” All I have to do is let God do His own healing in His own time. I don’t have to live under the pressure of hiding brokenness and when the temptation arises to believe that I am useless as a broken being, God whispers to my soul:

“I use broken things. I don’t use perfect things. It’s in broken things that My power is seen. ”

What a great God I have that would use the world’s broken, hurting, and wounded to shine His light to a broken, wounded, and hurting world, that He would use the world’s rejected to build His kingdom.

exhale

Ah! Sorry it's been so long and that I've been the worst blogger in the world. When it comes to writing things, such as blog posts, I'm so OCD about my words and thoughts having to be written out exactly perfect. I'm so word-oriented that I think of what I want to say and then repeatedly go over the millions of ways I could say it. I always want my words and thoughts to be organized and make some sort of sense, and when I can't gather the focus to actually put thoughts together, that's when I give up on writing about them all together. But I've realized that maybe I need to let go of that OCDness and just let words flow on their own, and this post is my attempt at doing so. Bear with me.

A little over a week ago I finished semester number 6 out of 7 of my college career. The instant that I turned in my 745am final, I made a 2 1/2 hour beeline down to South Carolina, which is like another home and my go-to place if I'm in DESPERATE need of some solid time with God and/or sanity. The minute I stepped across the threshold of this refuge, I exhaled the breath that I didn't realize I had been holding all semester. The second that the semester had started, I had taken one huge breath, lowered my head, and hit the ground running...I had known it was going to be the busiest and most difficult semester of my college career. Now, as I stand on the other side of that semester, I look and reflect back on what the semester entailed. Even though I am SO GLAD that the semester is done (because it was in fact the hardest and busiest semester and even more than I thought it was going to be), I can't help but praise God over and over again because of how so very faithful He was and the many things He helped me to learn. Sure it was tough and trying, but oh how God refined me during that time. The next couple posts will be about the biggest lessons I learned throughout the semester and I promise there won't be a month gap in between posts :)

my talent?

I've continued to contemplate what to do about Uganda in terms of how to incorporate everything into my daily life. As I said in the previous post, it's been quite difficult. I've been stuck along with the other struggles I've been having, including questioning others' motives, judgment, and comparison. Then I was lead back to the parable of the talents found in Matthew:

"For it is just like a man going on a journey. He called his own slaves and turned over his possessions to them. To one he gave five talents; to another, two; and to another, one---to each according to his own ability." (Matthew 25:15). 

To each according to his own ability...that struck me. I know I've been judging and comparing and wondering why some live the way they do and why can't they live according to what I've experienced (which is rather prideful and conceited). However, we are each given to our own ability (whether we are given gifts or experiences or the like). God has given me everything that I've seen, everything that I've experienced, a new perspective, and the many ways that my heart and life have been changed...that is what has been given to me and what God has entrusted me with. In the same way, there are many things that God has entrusted to others and not necessarily to me...to their own ability. God gave me what Uganda entailed because I'm able to be entrusted with it, just as someone else is able to be entrusted with what God has given them. I'm not able with theirs, and they are not able with mine. Each according to his own ability.

Then later in the parable, each slave's faithfulness with what they've each been entrusted with is examined. The master tells the first two slaves who have been faithful:

"Well done, good and faithful slave! You were faithful over a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Share in your master's joy!" (Matthew 25:21,23).

And to the unfaithful slave the master says:

"You wicked, lazy servant!...Take the talent from him and give it to the one who has ten talents. For everyone who has will be given more, and he will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken from him. And throw that worthless servant outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth." (Matthew 25:26,28-30).

Oooof, I don't know about you, but I don't want to be the "wicked, lazy servant." I need to be faithful with what I've been entrusted with. It's not up to me to be concerned with what God has entrusted someone else with, rather, with what God has entrusted me with. Someone else's "talent" is between them and God, not me, them, and God. I've realized that it doesn't matter if others aren't living the way that I've been called to live, since they've never seen or experienced what I've seen and experienced. What matters is that I need to be faithful with all that God did and showed me in Uganda and to live accordingly. This is my talent that I've been entrusted with. I've come to realize that part of being faithful with it is living it out while explaining why. I need to talk about it and share it...talk about GOD and share GOD. I need to "put it to work," like the first two slaves did, rather than "bury it in the ground," like the wicked, lazy slave. Who God is, what He is doing, what He has done, and what He will do are not things to just "bury in the ground."

We have lots of "talents"---gifts, abilities, experiences, changes, responsibilities, ministries, etc.---all of which God has entrusted us with (even though I think it's absolutely CRAZY to think that God would trust me with anything). Will I be faithful with my talent? Or will I be lazy with it?

now what?

This has been my biggest and most haunting question since coming back. What do I do now? How do I apply everything that I have seen in Uganda? I know my heart and life are changed, but how will that be seen in my daily life? My thought process is different, my perspective is different...many many things are different. I won't lie to you, coming back to the US and adjusting after Africa has been an absolute struggle. It has been more difficult to adjust to my own culture than it was to adjust to a completely new culture. It was such a rude awakening to come back to the US and be honked at on the car ride home while driving past building after building and million dollar homes; it had only been a day since driving on unpaved streets past countless tin-roofed shacks. Judgment and comparison have been a daily struggle. While I know it's not fair to judge and compare people who have never had the experiences I've now had, it doesn't make it any easier. It's hard to see the way some people live while I know that in Uganda my boys are wondering when and where they're going to get their next meal. It's hard to see materialism now that I have seen poverty. It's also been difficult to find the balance between being materialistic and accepting the blessings that God has given me here in the US.

Many people would describe this as a "mountain top experience" and a period where I am on a spiritual high, but honestly, I've never reached a high. I was never floating around on cloud nine and skipping through daisies. I never reached a high that I could crash down from. It's just been low and lower and lowest. Whether it be struggling with judgment, adjustment, application, or even questioning why I'm here in the US and not in Africa, it has been difficult. Not to say there has never been periods of joy, not at all. Some of my greatest joys have come as a result of having gone to Africa and remembering what I saw and experienced there. All I know is that Africa did something funny to my heart. I miss Africa. I miss my boys. I can't wait to go back. Multiple times the apostle Paul writes in his letters about "longing to return" to see a specific people, but it wasn't until now that I understood what he was writing about. He writes in 1 Thessalonians 2:17, 19, 20: "But as for us, brothers, after we were forced to leave you for a short time (in person, not in heart), we greatly desired and made every effort to return and see you face to face...For who is our hope, or joy, or crown of boasting in the presence of our Lord Jesus at His coming? Is it not you? For you are our glory and joy!"

In the meantime, I know God wants me here. I need to remember that God isn't only in Africa, but He's here in the US too, and I need to serve Him and live for Him here as well. Everywhere I go is a mission field. It's not just Africa. As the missionary Jim Elliot said," Wherever you are, be all there! Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God."

adembe, sing it louder

It was the Sunday before we left, our last Sunday at Watoto Church, when the aha moment hit. That Sunday, Watoto was hosting a performance of the Restore Tour: Child Soldier No More event. Click here to see the trailer of what we were able to see live. The Restore Tour, associated with Watoto Church, travels around the world and is a combination of skits, dances, testimonies, and songs performed by approximately 25 men, women, and children who had once been child soldiers or sex slaves (child mothers) in the war in northern Uganda against the LRA (Lord's Resistance Army). This performance vividly described the peace before the war, conflict, capture, escape, and forgiveness and healing after the war.

Let me first briefly explain the war in northern Uganda if you have never read about it or heard of it. Starting in 1987, the LRA rebel group led by Joseph Kony, who claimed himself to be a "spokesperson" of God, launched their campaign in northern Uganda to overthrow the government and turn it into a theocratic state. The LRA and the government each tried to get the community to join with them, thus creating an internal conflict. In 1994, the LRA introduced a terrible war tactic that had never been used in the history of warfare: child soldiers. The LRA began to abduct boys to turn them into killers and girls to turn them into sex slaves. This warfare continued on until 2008 when peace talks began to be initiated. Although peace was never technically agreed on, violence has decreased with the occasional outburst in the north or in southern Sudan.

Never before had I seen anything like it. I had read up on the LRA and heard about the war, but never had my eyes been opened to what it truly was. Mass killings, children abducted and turned into killers, girls turned into child mothers, children orphaned after watching their parents and relatives get shot, raped, and/or mutilated, going for days without food and water and then being told by their captors that their food was dead corpses, not being allowed to cry for fear of being killed, endure severe beatings, and escaping their captors but being shunned by their villages for what they had been forced to do. They had to bear physical and emotional pain and the struggle to forgive themselves and their captors. Here is a link to a testimony of one of the men, David.

A bit of background on our preparations for Uganda: we had spent the entire year meditating on the lyrics "And if our God is for us, then who can ever stop us?" from Chris Tomlin's song "Our God," which is also found in Romans 8. We spent the entire year praying and meditating over this truth and even put those lyrics on the tshirts that we sold for the trip. Well, during the Restore Tour performance while they were transitioning from captivity to escape and freedom, one of the songs that they sang was "Our God!" This song and biblical truth that we had been meditating on all year is the central message to the healing and restoration of Uganda. Now when someone wears one of our Uganda shirts, they are wearing the words of healing and restoration of Uganda! To hear 25 previous child soldiers and child mothers sing "our God is greater, our God is stronger, God You are higher than any other" and to hear them proclaim freedom with joy on their faces...it does something strange to the heart. To hear them proclaim freedom (adembe in Lugandan) and to hear their testimonies about what they've been through and how they have forgiven not only themselves but their captors and Joseph Kony completely changed my perspective on many things. We were all in utter shock about it all. If they can sing and proclaim freedom and forgiveness and sing it louder and louder, then why can't I?

letters from home

As I mentioned in the previous post, the boys in the home wrote all of us handwritten letters. The last two days we were there they kept handing us letters left and right, whether it be while we were playing futbol or even through the van window as we were driving away. These 20 letters I received are my most treasured reminders of Africa, even more than my journal entries, more than pictures, and more than the drum that I brought home. And these letters are NOT like what your mother forces you to write to your grandmother thanking her for the sweater she knit you for your birthday. No. These letters are personal and these are the letters that I have looked at on the days I feel discouraged or need a reminder to keep my eyes on God and maintain my eternal perspective. These letters allow me to hear their voices and hearts again. These letters are my reminder that my heart is indeed in Africa, even when it seems like I'm being consumed on every side by everything that's going on here in the US. They are a reminder of my boys and a reminder of how my heart and life were changed.

I have chosen a few to type out here and I hope they move you as much as they have torn my heart apart. I have edited the grammar slightly so you can understand them better but have left all the content in so you might be able to hear the voices and hearts of these sweet Ugandan boys. There was one letter that one of the boys, John Paul, wrote to my mom. It was indeed a beautiful letter that laid out the Gospel of Jesus and it made me realize that God can use anyone to witness to my mom, even orphaned boys across the world she has never met before. I have cried over every single one of these letters, and you're about to see why.

"Dear Kelsey, 

How has been your time with me? Me, I have enjoyed my time with you and you have made my holiday. I have learned a lot from you and it's my hope you have learned from me. You are one of my first friends from USA hahaha...I love that. Before I met you I didn't know that there are people like you in USA who are lovely and awesome. Keep the spirit of loving burning and God will bless you for that. He needs people like you who love others. I will miss you when you go home but you will always be on my mind and will never forget you. Good friends always come and go but it is God's plan. But me I believe that one day we shall meet again in Jesus' name. I wish you well in all that you are doing. Thank you for being good to me and kind. I love you so much and am gonna miss you so much. God bless you for what you have done and to spend your time with us and me. 'Nkwagala nyo nyo nyo...Mukwano gwange.' I wish you a safe journey as you fly back home. Say hi to everyone at home, your step-dad, sisters, mom, step-sister, and dad. A lot to say but I'm gonna miss you 'nyo nyo.' God bless you. I love you.

Peace be with you

Fahad

I love you so much"

"Hullo Talbot,

It's an awesome time to talk to you. Thank you for the teachings you taught to us daily, you're really wonderful. I don't know what to give you for your teaching of the slangs. It sounds awful that you're going back to your country. I am going to miss your love to me. I am studying but I will need your help in some time to come. I really need to visit your country. Thanks for everything and have a safe journey.

Lots of Love

Micheal"

"Dear Kelsey,

How are you dear? Let me hope that you are all fine and good. Thank you for loving me and caring for me---and to all the boys in the home. You are extremely a good girl with love. I care and I love you for that. I love you for your good heart. Thank you for your support in my music and I have loved it so much. I am so happy for it dear. I don't know how I will show my appreciation but I pray to God that He may bless you and provide you with everything you need. May God's love, care, and peace be with you. May His blessings be on you.

Lots of love

Julius"

 

"Dear Kelsey, How are you these days? I hope you are fine, back to me, I am not fine because you're going back to USA. I have written this letter to thank you for everything that you have done to us. Really may God reward you for that. I have enjoyed your team and everything you have done, like discussing about Jesus in the Bible. I have learned more about Jesus, thank you for working hard and for being wonderful and thoughtful and kind to us. I will be praying for you until you come back and I am waiting for you and your friends. Thank you for your care to us. I am glad nobody or anything will separate us. I love you so much because you loved us. Read this: John 3:16.

May God richly bless you so much.

Goodbye

From Mutesa"

 

"Dear Kelsey, Thank you very much for making each of us feel happy at New Life Homes, God bless you so much. I will never forget you because of your love and I will keep praying for you so that you can come back to Uganda because I love you so much. I see the time has come for you to go head home but my heart is breaking. Thank you for teaching us good stories from the Bible, songs, games, and taking us to the beach. God bless you too. Say hello to all your friends and parents. Tell them that we love them so much and we have a dream to come and visit them.
Goodbye
From Vincent"

Vincent is on the far right

"Hi Kelsey, How are you today? Hope you are okay. For me, I some okay. I thank you so much for your love you have been showing to me. I love you very much because you are very beautiful to me. I will never forget you if you return back to the USA. I will be at the home and I will wait for you this year if you will be back in Uganda. For me I have to go back for hand operation on 1/31/11, you are praying for me!!! Pray to do well in operation because I have to join school next year. Thank you so much. My greeting to all your family and to all you work with.
From your friend
Emmanuel
of New Life Home
Kampala Uganda
Goodbye"

"Dear Stessi (he wanted to call me Stessi because he didn't feel like trying to pronounce the "l" in my name haha), It has been so great to meet each other and also to know you. You have really changed my life since you came to me and I will always remember you in my heart. The love you have been showing me is more than my parents did. You are more than my family and I assure you that you are now my family in bloodhood. One wise man told me that friends are more than the family you have, but I did not believe it, but now I believe it and it is fact. I really wish you good luck and safe way back home. I do not have anything to give you but what I have is me and my heart, also just my words. I am really going to miss you so much but may the Lord's blessing go with you. May you have peace in life and in all ways you do. The day I saw you is the day I keep in my mind. The things you did for me make me so happy. I will think about you and I will be with you even if you are not around for your love will be around with me. As the leaf leave the tree, but the stem always stay on the tree is the way I am to you. Tears in my eyes but joy in my heart because you have been my friend and now you are leaving me. I do really love you and am going to miss you a lot. Soon we shall meet again.
May peace be with you always. Amen.
Yours Faithful
Crazy Moses
Some verses for you: Jer 29:11, Pro 29:25, Ecc 3:11, Daniel 3:17-18"

it's not goodbye, it's just see you later

I'm almost done with Uganda posts, promise. Then I can go back to real time ha.

Some of the neighborhood girls and boys

The boys in New Life Home used to be on the streets like Marvin, Vienay, and Dennis, but they were taken into the home and given a chance at a new life and at an education. in the home they look out for each other, do chores, go to school, and learn how to take care of themselves. The first day we met them they came running over to the van to help us out and to greet us, similar to the way the street boys greeted us. They also loved to hold our hands and walk with us with their arms around our shoulders. Relationships started being built immediately. In a previous post I talked about stories about four of the boys, although honestly there are so many stories that I can't cover here. Stories about boys like Michael, my translator for small group and a sweet sweet friend. Like Crazy Moses who is, well, crazy, but has one of the most beautiful hearts I know. Like all the boys in my small group, Mutesah, Umar, John, Rogres, Meddie, and Sulah. Like Mustafa who said one day on the topic of goodbyes: "It's not goodbye, it's just a see you later. We don't do goodbyes around here." Like John Paul who wrote a letter to my mom. Like Abraham and Bekah, who Melanie and I had a rap contest with. And the list goes on and on and on. 41 boys in all, although they are better defined as men of God. The neighborhood boys and girls would also come to spend time with us mzungus and by the end of the week we had about 15 to 20 of them showing up.

Meddie, Rogres, Sula, John, Umar, Michael, and Mutesa

We would talk with the boys, break off into small groups, do a Bible lesson, and then go play futbol or capture the flag until we had to leave. Small groups were an encouragement and challenge; the boys are wise and their application of even the most basics of the Gospel is awe-inspiring. Many times I felt as though they weren't entirely interested in what I was saying, only to come to find later that they were processing. They wrote in their letters (which will be a separate post) that they were so thankful to learn more about Jesus. My prayer life was challenged and changed listening to them pray. Not only is it cool to hear them sometimes pray in Lugandan, but to hear how they pray. All they do is thank and praise God. Here I am at school praying to do well on a test, and they are thanking God and praising Jesus for what He did, yet they don't have very much and could be asking God for a whole lot. It challenged me to implement more thankfulness and praise into my prayer life. A really cool prayer experience: I was praying for Emmanuel (with the burns) and Fahad was there with us as well. As I prayed for Emmanuel, Fahad was simultaneously translating it into Lugandan for Emmanuel to understand better. Not only is it cool to hear what I'm praying in Lugandan, but also to realize that this is what God hears. He hears every language and every tongue. This is but a mere glimpse of Heaven.

I was challenged and encouraged by the boys. Their generosity, joy and desire to serve made me think of two specific pieces of Scripture:

"For I want very much to see you,that I may impart to you some spiritual 

gift to strengthen you, that is, to be mutually encouraged by each others' 

faith, both yours and mine." Romans 1:11-12

"During a severe testing by affliction, their abundance of joy and their 

deep poverty overflowed into the wealth of their generosity." 

2 Corinthians 8:2

I was reminded again how I had intentions to go and serve, but instead I was somehow being served. While I might be teaching them about Jesus and encouraging them, they were encouraging me in my walk. And, like the street boys, they have very little in the eyes of the world, but they were joyful and generous because they know Jesus.

Jarard buried in the sand at the beach

On our day off we took the boys to the beach at Lake Victoria (that's right, I got to swim in the source of the Nile River!) and we spent the whole day there. It was a great day being to spend time with them without a structured plan. One of the most touching moments of that day was teaching Fahad and Mustafa how to swim. I realized that these boys had missed out on so much of childhood, they never had the chance to learn many of the things we learned growing up. 

We saw the boys the day we left to fly back to the US, and that was just as heartbreaking, if not more, than leaving the street boys. Everyone was crying and hugging multiple times, just not wanting to let go. They were also handing me letter after letter after letter that they had each written. It surprised me when the boys were a bigger source of comfort as we were leaving than we were. I was saying goodbye to Ronald and as tears were streaming down my face he said, "It's not goodbye, it's just see you later. We WILL meet again one day. We WILL see each other again soon." I was comforted by the fact that even if I don't get to see them again on this side of Heaven, I get to spend all of eternity praising God with my brothers from Uganda. 

I miss them. I miss their laid-back nature and their simple way of life. I miss seeing their joy. I miss sitting with them and teaching them English slang. I miss hearing them try to pronounce my name (they could never get the "L" part of my name). I miss singing with them and playing with them and smack-talking in Lugandan. I miss my brothers.