october in pictures

My friend, Steph, and I riding a boda boda (Uganda's motorcycle taxis)

Visiting the nursery school that Steph worked at in Uganda. Yes, the kid is picking their nose and yes, they went crazy over my 5-toed shoes.

We finally finished the home visits that were necessary to getting the next group of boys started. This is  one of the new boys (little guy bottom right) and his family.

I discovered a good place to study for my upcoming final exam for the theology class I've been taking. Has a pretty awesome view of Rwanda AND WiFi! 

My youngest sister's birthday was this month. I had the boys sing her a little somethin' :)

My first home-made breakfast that did not involve eating my body weight in doughnuts. I made chapati (the tortilla-like thing that you see) from scratch and had eggs with tomatoes and onions with it. Also had mango and pineapple and yes, a Sprite. Breakfast of champions. Total cooking time (at least for the chapati anyway): 3 hours. Crazy.

We got shelves installed in our kitchen! So now everything doesn't have to be out on the counters! Our shelves were very exciting until we woke up the next morning to find mold all over them. They were cleaned and painted today, so hopefully we'll go back to our excitement :)

One of the boys, Fabrice, lost his first tooth! He was so excited. What a cutie :)

redefining normal

I was doing home visits last week for the next group of boys coming into the program and I realized, as I bounced all over the place in the back of a rugged van on a dirt road with six Rwandan boys, that my life right now has a whole new definition of normal. Yeah sure, normal now in my daily life means eating a ton of beans and rice, being in the house at 6pm because that's when the sun sets, learning the various handshakes and greetings, using jumbled bits of kinyarwanda to buy things at the market and to get around the city on a moto, making sure my mosquito net is tucked into my bed at night because spiders might get in otherwise (yes, I said spiders), and taking showers via bucket. These things are little things of my new normal. Then there are the bigger things that are forever changing my world view because now that I have seen these things, I can never go back to living and thinking the way I used to. I can no longer live in ignorance. Things like:

Going to visit a family and their house is made of mud and the whole thing is 9 feet by 9 feet at most. And 8 people live and sleep under that roof.

Watch a boy who's only as tall as my waist level search frantically for his bag to put his rain-drenched notebooks in because that little drawstring bag is one of the most valuable things he owns. He is also HIV positive. 

Listen to a single mom of seven children tell her story of how she had to leave her abusive husband and live with her mother because she doesn't have a job and can't pay rent for a house.

Watch an older sister struggle to remember where her mother is and who her father is. She and her 4 siblings all have different fathers too. 

Pray for a miracle with and for a family of 12 who are getting kicked out of their house because they haven't been able to pay rent in two months. 

Give praise to a 13 year-old boy because he finally learned how to correctly read and say "caterpillar."

Travel to homes that are located in places where the only possible way to get to them is to hike for 15 minutes literally up the side of a mountain after driving on a dirt road for what seems like forever. 

And there are more stories like these. Every day I interact with these kinds of families and these kinds of boys. And every day I am thankful that God has given me the chance to be a part of their lives and that they are a part of mine.

something so simple

As a Christian there are many things about God that I take for granted and brush over because I hear it so often. Things like:

God is good.

God is with me.

God is loving.

Sound familiar? I'm sure. Phrases like these are plastered on bumper stickers and key chains and said nonchalantly in passing conversations (and by no means am I downplaying those bumper stickers or key chains). We hear them so often that we forget how truly amazing each of these are, I know I definitely do. 

I forget until I'm plopped into a situation where these three truths are all I really have. Living in Africa as a missionary is one of those situations. Everything I have ever known or am familiar with is gone. Everything I have ever depended on is not here to hold my hand. Every familiar face is nowhere nearby.  Every daily routine has changed dramatically. Every comfort or distraction I used to run to has been stripped from my side. Every way I have ever communicated is useless. Every way I have ever built relationships no longer seems to work. So what is my go-to? What is my constant? God has to be or I won't make it through a day with sanity. What is my greatest comfort every day in a place and around people that are so unfamiliar? It is something so simple, the simple truth that we hear all the time and take for granted: God is with me. When everything else is unfamiliar, the one thing that is familiar is my God. And it is this familiar God that is with me, as He has promised. I've been listening to a lot of Charlie Hall since being here and one part of one of his songs has stuck with me daily. It's from his song "Constant:"

"God, You are here with us, constantly here with us.

You are our everything, Faithful and True."

I will often listen to this song in the morning while I'm waiting for water to boil so I can make my coffee in a french press (oh, how I miss coffee makers and Keurigs). I can look out the kitchen window and see a lot of the city of Kigali and mountain after mountain. As I begin my day with coffee and Charlie Hall, I remember that the great Maker of those mountains and of this city is the same God who is constantly here with me, never leaving even when everything else is unfamiliar.

Now I turn to some other circumstances, but also still immersed in the same living-in-Africa situation. I compare to it to being like a bug trapped under a cup. God has me in a season of isolation, a season where there is nowhere I can turn or escape, a season where I can't see the road two feet in front of me. But it is also a season of being surrounded by Him, where I am hemmed in on every side. Heavy heartedness has marked this season as I have lost friends and solid relationships have fallen out. God has been teaching me hard and difficult lessons. He has also been disintegrating every plan I've had and leading me in a direction I always thought I would run from. Seasons of isolation such as these aren't as unfamiliar; I have battled depression for the past eight years and the bug under a cup feeling is a common occurrence with that battle. Even when I just want to lie in the middle of the floor and say, "I'm throwing in the towel, I'm done," I look at the circumstances, know that God has ordained them, and know that God is doing a mighty mighty work for His glory and in my life that is beyond my comprehension. This is where the other truths that seem so simple and overused become incredible and a huge comfort. It's something so simple: God is good and God is loving. God is good despite what the circumstances might look like; He is good because His purposes through these circumstances are what's best. God is loving despite how difficult it is; He is loving because He never leaves me for one moment and it's through these circumstances that draws me closer to Himself.

It's something so simple that sustains me every day. Even when I saw none of this coming, it's something so simple that helps me get up in the morning and know without a doubt that He has me here in Rwanda at this very moment for a reason. It's something so simple and it's all I need, He's all I need.