Story Time - Hot Stuff

You know how I feel sometimes? If I didn't have bad luck, I'd have no luck at all....

Even aside from the many flights that got delayed/canceled/missed on this trip, the sickness, etc., the airline lost my bag. With all my belongings. All my work clothes, all my soaps, shoes, underwears (or as April would say: Da-DUN-da-duns), everything (except the bag with all the Beanies and food for the kids. That came in perfect condition that would happen to me)!

I say all this to say: half of our activities were manual labor. I had no work clothes. I had jeggings, a dress shirt, a team shirt, and a pair of very cute shoes (and by day four of wearing them, I inevitably had some beautiful blisters).

"Oh hey guys, looks like I don't have work clothes. Guess I'll just sit in the shade and watch you all sweat and toil,"

First thing's first: I had to get some shoes! So we stopped in one of the shacks by the street, which wasn't exactly safe...I had to hold our leader, Dwight's hand to cross the street! By the end of our haggling, we paid about ten dollars for a pair of very used shoes - tying the laces made my hands quite dirty....but I didn't complain; I was legitimately very grateful to have a pair of shoes, even without socks.

In the van on the way to the work site, I put my shoes on, joking it up with the team the whole time. A few moments later, as we're driving, Dwight pulls the socks off his own feet and hands them to me! "I've only worn these a couple hours," he told me, "but at least I know where they've been; I don't know where those shoes have been!" We all laughed and I put them on, again, legitimately thankful.

Oh, remember what I said about bad luck? Well as I moved in my seat on the way from the shoe shack to the work site, I noticed I could barely move....my pants were caught on a sharp metal piece in the seat and it RIPPED A HOLE IN MY PANTS! *Sigh*

Wanna see the finished product of the jegging/massive shirt/man-sock/shoe combo?

Hot, huh? You know, I do what I can.

When I tell this story, I do ham it up and joke around as if I'm the victim but in all seriousness, I am so grateful for the people (who barely knew me!) who came around and bought me those shoes, gave me their socks, let me borrow outfits and work shirts and pretty much let me mooch off of them for the week and a half where I basically didn't own anything. I was painfully humbled and am still amazed by the generosity and all around kindness of my team members. I love them all and miss them dearly.....

Story Time - The Slums of Kivulu

Perhaps one of my favorite days was the day we went to the slums. I can't even give you one specific reason why.

Have you ever just looked around and thought to yourself, "Yes, this is where I was meant to be for this moment"? If so, you know how I felt that day...

First we met the children and played with them.

Then we walked with the children up to a field to play futbol. Kasim, an older boy who I don't have a picture of, held my hand all the way there and we asked each other questions and had a wonderful time.

When we got there, the boys warmed up for the big game. They don't mess around with their futbol.

While some played, others, like myself, painted their faces.

Then they painted us.

After the game, we all walked back down and we fed them beans a rice and gave a sermon. Can you spot the cross?

At one point, one of the little boys came up to me and we started dancing. After a while, he looked at me and said in his adorable Ugandan accent, "Sarah, you're my sister". I smiled happily and told him to always remember he had a sister all the way in America and that I would never forget...

I don't know his name (no one could understand the pronunciation), but I will never forget my brother, or my friend Kasim, or beautiful Grace, or any of the other children in the Slums of Kivulu.....

The Eternal Optimist

Yes, the rumors are true; I finally made it home.....

I really should not have taken a week to write this post, but between saying my goodbyes to my Floridian friends, moving, and saying hello to my Kansan friends, I've been a tad busy. But here I sit in my new room with only two boxes left to unpack; in my new home with only 345,654,476 boxes left to unpack.....

Words to describe the stories of my trip still swim about it my mind, unreachable. Some words are joyful, some words are funny enough to make you pee yourself, and yet others are so heartbreaking, I've been able to tell no one. I will, over time, write stories of the people who inspired me, stories of how "everything" went wrong, stories of the beauty of Uganda, and stories of how my heart loved so much it burst. But for now, I leave you with a story of my own (excuse the length).

Nearly two years ago, in all my pain, God made it evident to me that the theme of the next chapter of my life would be "Hope". At this time, I believed, with good reason, He meant hope for healing and restoration in me.

One year ago, I realized how amusingly selfish this was as I began to plan my Africa trip. It dawned on me one day in my all-fired frenzy to get there, that He did not mean Hope for me in this chapter, as Christ himself would always be my hope. In all actuality, His plan was for me to bring hope to others, as I wrote about back in August.

This was all well in good last summer. But when my peace crumbled before my very eyes and the skies of my life grew frighteningly dark, I begged God to give me the hope he desired for me to give others. Without it, I didn't know how much longer I could go on. Also, how could I give hope to others when I had none?

God's promise of hope seemed empty. Some nights, I would sit up crying for hours and it was all I could do to leave the house and see anyone. I wanted to seem strong and brave; I would walk with my head held high and have plenty of witty banter with my friends. But when I was alone, I would just cry. Even physically, I was falling apart. My doctor said to treat for depression.

I don't say this to gather sympathy, I promise. I just want to reveal His glory in this story.

As I wrote, I came into this trip in subconscious desperation for deliverance. In my heart, I felt that if I didn't find hope on my trip, I didn't know what I was going to do.

God tends to hide Himself in the most unexpected places. Not only is He in sunsets, but He's also in the back alleyway. Not only is He on the mountain, but He's also in the eyes of a beggar.

As I listened to the joyful laugh of a reformed prostitute, I heard the audible sound of Hope. As I worked beside people who believe that every small act of service makes a difference, I saw Hope in action. As I gazed into the eyes of a child who's lost everything and yet still has no doubt there is a loving God, and as I held the hand of the same child, I saw Hope in the most tangible form.

These people, from the oldest to the babies, they get it.

They understand that Hope isn't found in the solution or in the change of circumstance, but only in the attitude. They understand that blessing isn't always in the earthly sense of the word.

They lost everything. Life has not been fair, but cruel. They are the least of these and pain is routine. But they stubbornly believe that God is on their side. One of our team members called one little boy, "The Eternal Optimist". Rightly so.

I can't tell you when I found it, or what drew me to find it in a third world country. However, as I was supposed to be ministering to the people of Africa, they impacted me in a much more meaningful way than they could have guessed.

My Hope was not found in God's voice in the flames of a desert bush. My Hope was not found in the visitation of a glorious angel. It was found in the face of the boy in the slums who called me his sister. It was found in the persevering work of the orphanage owner who has no running water or electricity. It was found in my babies at the baby home.

I will still cry; my problems have not vanished. I would be naive to believe otherwise. But I pray my new-found Hope will keep me stubbornly believing, as my friends in Uganda do, that there is a loving God who is on my side.

Hope. A simple, stubborn, beautiful thing. Free, yet elusive. Strong, but not a feeling. Those who suffer know it well. And if they can, so can I.

Fly

It's today.

Today, I load my bags which a small child could easily fit in...hmmmmm. Today I say goodbye to those I love the most and get on a plane all by myself. Today is the tangible start of my journey to where God is calling me.

I do have a small confession before I begin my journey. Yes, my motivation which drove me with so much determination to this place was God's calling and my deep rooted desire to serve and love people with all I have.

Motivation one: be the picture of Jesus.

But there is another motive, one deep inside which I've told only a few.....

To preface, my brokenness led me to this specific, first trip (though not to the mission field itself), whether I realized it at the time or not. My own pain spurred me on. In my heartache, I was too stubborn to give up; I would show them, and more importantly I would show myself, that I was not only going to make it through, but God and I were going to do something grand to spite my dark situation. Call it pride, call it tenacity, call it perseverance. Regardless...

This being said, I realized the other night that I not only hope to find ways to love people, I seek healing. I seek God. At very least, a little perspective. Deep inside my heart, I have a deep and shamefully selfish desperation for God to bring some resolve to some issues or at least, and most likely, get my focus off of myself and onto loving people who hurt exponentially worse than I do on a regular basis. I pray that my prayers and worries and thoughts will stop being me and my problems. I'm so sick of my me-ness. If life is a play, I'm certainly not the main character I'm probably that girl who's too full of stage fright to even play a supporting character and I don't need a solution to walk in freedom or to lead others to it. I'm broken. Ask anyone who is close to me; I'm probably a pain to be around. But God always (and I'm pretty sure, only) uses broken people to heal others and bring hope in darkness.

This is my hope for the trip; that I would find God, that He would reveal Himself to me (as I know we will be working very closely on this trip), and that He would use me in my brokenness to heal others and love till it hurts.

I know this last blog post before my trip was supposed to be inspirational and peppy and such, but I felt it had to be said. Am I excited? Yes! Am I scared? Yes. How does it feel for God to bring you to the front door of your dreams? Absolutely blissful.....

Thank you to everyone who has prayed for me or supported me financially or with their words. I love you all; you hold me up when I can't stand and you encourage me to pursue my dreams and all God has for me. I have never felt loved by so many and words can't express my gratitude. I will write you when I return and tell you many stories about my adventures :)

Now excuse me. The door of my cage has opened and I will now fly away....

Tomorrow

I. Am going. To Africa. Tomorrow. No guys, you don't understand what I am telling you! IT'S TOMORROW!

Gotta grab my passport! Gotta get my Yellow Card (thank you Lexie)! Print my itinerary! Bags! Bug Spray! Water! AAAAH!

*Drum roll*

Well, my friends, the time has come to announce the winner of the Beanie Drive!! I know you have been waiting anxiously on this site, pressing refresh with an increasing impatience every hour! No need for that; the waiting is over!

..........Well let me tell you about my week first. Packing, packing, and more packing! And a little shopping. Well, a lot of shopping. But hey, I got my whole room packed to move, my sister's whole room packed to move, got all my Africa bags packed (!!!!), and graduated. And it's only Tuesday!

Ok! Now hold your breath, give me a drum roll, and here we go...

The winner!

Of the Beanie Drive!


(Receiving the lovely Show Hope shirt)

Is!




Our dear friend, Amanda Little!

She contacted me saying she wanted to sponsor Beanie Babies in the names of each of her many nieces and nephews so "when they get to heaven some child they never met gives em a big hug :) won't that be awesome!!!!"....Oh. Just melt my heart now. So sweet.

Amanda, I'm so grateful for you and I pray God showers blessings on you!

Thank you so much to the rest of you who either donated Beanies or sponsored them. I cannot wait to see the looks on the kids faces when I give them to them!!!! It wakes me up at night and I can't sleep can you tell?!! I love you all so much!

Can you believe it's just TWO more days till I'm on that plane out of America? It's insane!

I can't wait!!!