06.12.12

Hello everyone! I hope your week has treated you to good chats with friends, an adventure or two, and the occasional ice cold lemonade (or A&W root beer if you are like me).

Did you know I was in Africa a year ago? About this time as I type this, I was usually taking care of my babies in the baby home down the street and looking forward to a scrumptious meal of rice and beans (my favorite. For reals). About this time, I was probably stressed about the insanely hot temperature to which the orphanage workers heated the milk for my babies. About this time, my whole life was being transformed. Forever. I would not understand the magnitude of it till I got home.

I look back on those times with a fondness few can understand. I know the desperation for hope that I entered the trip with and I recall specific moments that I would never be the same from....I can't wait to go back!!!

Anyway, it is about 2am and I write to give a simple update! I am selling t-shirts for my trip which my good friend, Cody designed. They are quite wonderful and they are being sold on my Indiegogo page here! If you donate $19 or more to my trip, you get one of these awesome t-shirts to shnazzify your wardrobe! There are plenty waiting just for you :)

(Why yes, I will advertize shamelessly)

05.12.12

Well hello!

I'm aware it has been so long since I last posted and I apologize. Life has been so busy lately between school, finding jobs, church events and preparing for this trip!

As you can imagine, I'm completely stoked about returning to Africa....sinking my toes into the red clay dirt, donning my African dresses, and running up to see my babies at the Sanyu Baby Home. The babies would be just now sleeping soundly as I type this, after being freshly bathed (a chaotic nightly event, I assure you, entailing shrieks and laughs - by both children and the "mamas"). I'm ecstatic about returning to the slums and kissing boo boos and and dirty faces and handing out food to the street kids. Oh how I love those children!

I would love to be holding them and kissing their noses! Only one month, three weeks, and two days....

I'm beyond excited that it's so close! But I'm so nervous too. To be honest, fundraising this year isn't going near as well as last year and job hunting is not going well either. I have $1200 let to raise for my airline ticket alone in just nineteen days (and then another $1200 to raise the next month)! It's enough to cause one to panic just a little, but I know God can provide in miraculous ways.

This Sunday I'm showing a promo video at my church for my trip (which I will post soon)! Please pray that God will work through the video :)

Well I must go, but I wanted to drop by to do a quick post :) Hope you all are having a fantastic week!

3.14.12

Well Hello!

I hope all is well with you! Just to preface, I am enjoying a wonderful semester at Johnson County Community College (hopefully going to nursing school in the fall!) and am loving serving and leading worship at my church, Family of Faith here in Kansas, as well as surrounding myself with precious people God continues to bring into my life.

If you know me well at all, you know that missions has always been in my heart and much to my excitement, I followed that calling all the way to Uganda last summer! I had little idea of how much those two weeks would change my life. I helped build schools and remodel orphanages, I laughed and cried with reformed prostitutes, I fed the slum children, kissed their dirty faces, held sick orphans, and most of all, loved like Jesus did till my heart broke. And it was wonderful. Somewhere along the line as I shared Jesus, I saw Him in their beautiful copper-colored faces and found something I was drowning without: Hope. And I knew the moment the plane left the Ugandan ground, I had to get back. 

As I sat a few months ago, I thought very hard about how to get back to my people in Africa (after all, Jesus isn’t done with them yet). Just then, I was contacted by a family from the team I went with last year who is putting their own team together and they asked if I wanted to join. You can bet I jumped on it! This being said, I’m happy to announce that I will be returning to my beloved Africa July 5-20! I will be staying in the same place in Kampala as last year and will be working in orphanages and feeding programs in the slums, etc. What an honor!

As excited as I am to be going, I’m excited to inform you that you can be involved as well! As with last year, there are two areas in which I need assistance.

First, you can pray for me, the team, and my two friends who are going with me. We will need prayer that God will prepare the hearts of the Ugandan people to receive the Gospel and the love we plan to show them. It is no secret that we are in a spiritual battle and the Enemy would much rather us not go spread the freedom of Jesus and will do what he can to prevent it. But we know we are more than conquerors and when we are in the will of God; even darkness trembles. We will also need prayers that our financial needs will be met; that there would be an attitude of generosity among Christ’s church.

Another way you can be involved in this mission is to help provide that financial support. I have $3000 to raise; $1950 needs to be raised by May to pay for the airline tickets and the other $1050 by June 1st. Would you consider supporting me with a small donation? Even the smallest amount is a massive help. I know last year, I was astonished and humbled by the generosity you all displayed and was brought to tears many times. You all are so generous and the perfect picture of true friends. If you should decide to support financially, please make checks out to Cristina McAllen.

Whether you can contribute financially, through prayer, or even both, all of your support is truly appreciated. Though I suppose every trip is daunting, I will not give up on my calling. Spreading the Gospel isn’t just the reason for this trip. It’s the reason I breathe.

Thank you so much for reading this letter and spending time with my thoughts! I look forward to doing God's work in Uganda and letting you know all about how God has worked through His team when I return in July!

Love, Sarah Slankard 

(Insert Giggle Here)

Anyone wanna take a guess as to an upcoming announcement? Anyone? Anyone? ;)

Grace

*Deep breaths* 

So far, much of my posting has been lighthearted, or at least Optimistic so I must apologize in advance; this entry is not (my heart hurts even as I type these words) and it's also very long. As I have said before in my original blog, I have issues being vulnerable. It scares me, so just know that when I do posts like this, I often fear that you will say my emotions are silly or invalid or even unwarranted. But since this story of mine is so hard to tell, I know it needs to be told. I have contemplated telling it for a while, but have not had the courage to do so. It's a terribly painful subject for me, so much so that I haven't talked about it with anyone. I have written about it to one person only and I cried as I did. My mother even asked me about it and I could not tell her, so I'm not sure how long this post will sit in draft mode till I can finish it.....

Now that I have prefaced, I will begin.....

Early every morning in Africa, after we had all rubbed the evident fatigue out of our sleepy eyes, showered, and ate a hearty breakfast, we would walk happily (well, the morning people walked happily. In contrast, those like me looked like a jerk but truly were joyful inside) to our first God-Appointment of the day, Sanyu Baby Home. We would walk from our hotel, down the hill (avoiding the highly dangerous traffic.....they didn't have sidewalks), by a snack stand, over some trash, and up the uneven steps. Then we would sign in and proceed to go up more stairs to the home and sweep the children up into our tired, yet waiting arms.

As a rule, you're not really supposed to have a "favorite" child (whether in orphanages or in families), but from the first day, we all had at least one child who had a special place in our hearts and who we would pour our love into for the rest of the two weeks. I had several who I held dear but one of the babies could play songs on my heartstrings for hours with just one glance:

Grace. Also known as Gracie Pants, to me anyway.

Just a few months old, Grace was like a ray of sunshine with her brilliant smile, immensely joyful chocolate eyes, and her adorable little nose. Every day I would walk right to her red crib and the moment she saw me, she would light up (I know she probably did that with everyone, but leave me alone, ok?). I would pick her up, feed her, and then we would have our daily chats about her day, her nap, etc. That's how it began anyway. As I fell even more for Grace, I would sing over her and pray with everything in me that she would always live up to her name; that she would be full of grace and come to know well the grace of God. I would pray for her future family and that she would always keep her smile.

I am not a mother - though the children sometimes called me Mama Sarah in their adorable Ugandan accents - but I have never held a child close enough in my heart to feel that they were legitimately my child. She was a daughter to me. I hoped and was so tempted to beg God that she would never experience pain or see the horrors the world holds. I wanted to protect her forever, but the highest I could do was secure her mosquito net as best as I could over her crib and walk away. One night as I laid her down for bed, after giggling with her and praying with her, I stroked her face and just started sobbing. I didn't want to leave; I wanted to take her with me. But all I could do was kiss her forehead, tell her I loved her and walk away. I don't think we were even halfway through the trip yet.

Then the day I dreaded came; our last day at the baby home before we left the next day. I held my Grace, made sure she was bathed, changed her, and then began to feed her. I didn't care to talk to anyone, just to hold her. Before I knew what was happening, our team was leaving. I held her close and set her in her red crib, stroking her face one last time as tears filled my eyes. I tried to say goodbye but she wouldn't look at me. She looked everywhere but at me, which wasn't normal. I called for her over and over and over frantically but she wouldn't.....I picked her up for one more second, holding her close to my heart. Then I quickly set her down again, kissed her, told her I loved her, and walked out sobbing (like I am now as I write) as I heard her cries coming from the home. I spoke to no one, feeling as though I lost a child. I knew I would probably never see her again.

The next day, our schedule suddenly opened up to where those who wanted to go to the baby home were free to do so. I was elated to say the least. God had provided a chance for me to see Grace one last time! I couldn't stop smiling. Well people wanted to take a nap before some of us left. Ok, that's cool. I was anxious but I understood, knowing they would tell me when they were leaving. They didn't. I looked all over for them but couldn't find them. Once I found they were gone, I frantically searched for others to go (since it was too dangerous to walk alone, though I contemplated escaping), but no one could. I tried to hold it together, but found a remote room on the hotel grounds and sobbed till my head was pounding. When I thought I was ok, I read a book outside. But not really; I just stared at the pages through my tears as I listened to the sounds of the children coming from the baby home since it was so close. I spoke to no one as I imagined myself there. I was hurt, angry, and bitter at everyone in my heart, even a little at God. I would probably never see her again. Who would sing songs over her? Who would do the right thing to make her giggle? Who would love her like I did?

Even since I've returned home, I have never spoken of Grace. I can't even listen to songs that remind me of her. It's simply too painful. Even writing this is excruciating to me. I miss her so; I miss having her in my arms, I miss rubbing my nose against hers - which she loved, I miss her smile, I miss kissing her goodnight. I could probably recognize her cry even still. I know she is safe in His arms, but I would give anything at all to have her in mine

Alright now. I say none of this story to be dramatic or to gather sympathy. I wouldn't have even told anyone except I know the reason I had to tell this story is because I truly believe that God wanted me to tell you personally that His heart is the same for us when we're far off, only more so.

This dawned on me the other night as I prayed for her. Suddenly, I found myself asking, "Is this how you feel, God? The longing to hold us in your arms and sing over us? Or even me? Does your heart feel like bursting when we're far off? Is this how you love?" I know this is how He loves.

I'm telling you this story right now for one reason only: because I know that the love I felt and still feel in my heart for Grace is the same love God feels for you and I. The intense pain in my heart I feel over being away from her is the same pain God feels when you and I are far off. The same yearning in my heart to sing over her is the same yearning God feels in His heart. Only more so.

We were orphans just like Grace and the rest of the children there. We had no one. But miracle of miracles, God's heart burst with love for us and still does today. He's smitten with us! His arms ache to simply hold us....

Grace could not come home with me, but today, God wants you to come home.

(This is Grace and I. Stinky picture of me, but the only one we had)

Again, I apologize for the length. But I just want to say that this is the last regular post I will have on this blog for this season.

Hold back those tears!

I have long forsaken All Things Considered and she beckons. But I will still post here occasionally with stories or perhaps....updates on my next trip?? ;)

Thank you so much for joining me on my journey so far; we have laughed together, cried together, and I have appreciated such good company. But hey, it's not goodbye! Check out my firstborn blog and don't you worry, I'll be back ;)

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.....