Monday, August 22, 2011

The Imminent &$@*!%

Our wonderful boda drivers

We knew this time would come.

We tried to avoid it by referring to it as "bad words," but it always loomed in the back of our minds, on the tip of our tongues.

We're leaving today.

On one hand, seven weeks is a blink of an eye. It's not that long. Then again, so much has happened in these weeks that it feels like a lifetime. It usually takes a lifetime for some of the things that have happened in this short time. It goes without saying that it will be hard to leave; there's so many ties here now. I can safely say what I've heard Hannah say since her last trip here: My heart won't be whole until eternity.

I'm torn. These people, these relationships, make it impossible for your heart to stay intact going back home. It's not fair! ;) I want to tell them that I'm coming back as soon as I can, but only God knows if that is actually in the works, which is the harsh reality.

I'm sooooooo excited to start this new life back home. I just wish that didn't mean leaving here.

We were baptized in the Nile River the Saturday before last, and I dedicated this new life wholeheartedly to serving God however He wanted to use me. You can read about the day here. It was a day filled with emotion and new beginnings. Even before this trip, I felt this year would be based on relationships. I had been waiting until now to start rebuilding with people I've withdrawn from and somehow knew this trip is what would be the kickstart. But now I know I'm ready for it. I'm ready to not hide anymore.

And I know this change that has been established here is not finished. God will continue to cultivate and develop the seeds he's planted in my heart. Please keep me in your prayers as this new journey begins. :)

Thank you all for the prayers while I was sick; I know they were pivotal in the recovery.

I love you all so much and wish you the best of days,
-Sarah-

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Wholehearted

When people found out I was coming to Africa this summer, the most frequently asked question was: “What are you going to do there??”
Honestly, I had no idea. I didn't have an agenda or schedule. And the people here don't either.
Uganda isn't about accomplishing anything, feeding kids, rescuing orphans, building houses. It's about establishing relationships, about getting to know people, about loving people. But how do you explain that to people in a society that measures success based on achievements and tangible rewards?

I can already hear the same question when I return.
What did you do there?”
I already know the answer. I didn't do a single, dang thing. God did all the work in me.
I can't take any of the credit but give it fully and wholeheartedly up to Him.

I'm not held back by anything; I have no ties to my old life. I'm starting fresh, a clean slate. A new beginning.

Not having an agenda doesn't mean we sit around all day staring at our feet. We spend time with people, visiting, relating, sharing life togezza. I honestly cannot get my fill of spending time with the Dove guys and Mama Sera's boys. If all we did was with them, I would be blessed and happy. That time plays a big part of our days here (...not enough!), but we fill our time with other things, too.
That's another thing. You never have to kill time here! Our days are gifts, as cliché as that sounds, and to waste them is missing out on incredible opportunities. Our days are fulfilling, rich, full of growth, encouragement, and conversations.

Honestly, I'm starting to get distracted by thinking about how different life is going to be once we leave here and are forced again into the fast-paced American society. It's going to be different on so many levels because it is a new start. I have a new focus and new priorities. I'm beyond excited to see what God has in store for me!
At the same time I'm praying this is permanent, not just a phase or “high”, and that God will continue to change and use me. I'm praying that I'll be willing to continue saying “yes” to Him every single day for the rest of my life. He has laid a foundation of change in me that I know deep down will last and He will continue to cultivate and develop the change. I'm willing to say He's not finished working on me, willing to admit there's still more I am asking Him to change in me.
I've surrendered to Him.
I have to force myself to not think about being back home now and to enjoy here while it lasts. I know the time is going to fly by and it's nearly impossible to not be apprehensive about the future.

But no, I'm in Uganda now. Right now.
And that's what I need to keep in mind. That's all I need to think about and savor.

I'm okay with not accomplishing anything by American standards while I'm here. I'm doing enough the African way.
 -Sarah-

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Three brothers. One cow. A great honor.

My brothers, Timothy (15), Thaddeus (14), and Zachary (10), raised 1000 US dollars to purchase a cow to give to a family here in Uganda. They told me before I came here that they wanted me to help deliver it to the family. Me? ME?! Why me?! I feel so so so honored to be a part of this adventure!! 


A teacher for the 6th grade class at the Molalla middle school named Becky Bryan started the cow project. Several years back, she helped her class raise money to purchase a cow through Next Generation Ministries. The first cow was impregnated and given to Abdu's mother, Sarah.
The first heifer the cow births is given back to the project, so that the giving can continue, but all the rest of the offspring and milk are for the family to keep.
Becky died of cancer on Christmas Eve a few years ago. We all miss her so much, but her legacy lives on in Uganda through each cow that's donated.  

walking Jessica
Thursday night, all night, I slept with the sound of pouring rain and distant thunder as my lullaby. The flashes of lightning making the room brighter than day for split seconds. So when Uncle Paul, Abdu, Sarah, Rose, and I arrived in Naminya Friday morning, there was red mud everywhere... sticking to our shoes and just about everything else :)


"What's over there?"
"I have no idea!"

Ronald and Herbert were waiting at the highway where we parked the van with the cow (the 8th given), pregnant and ready for a new home. We started down a very African dirt (or should I say mud) road trailing along after the men leading the cow.
The joy on their faces when we arrived at Mzee (moo-zay... a respected person) Joshua and Mama Beatrice's home... oh, it was so beautiful to behold!! We gave big hugs, took pictures... the whole time I felt like a little kid at Christmas, but this time, I was delivering the gift, not receiving it.
Happy faces :)
We walked up behind the house, up the hill to a clearing in the in trees. There was a cement pad with a pole structure and some tin sheets forming a shelter. A feed box overflowing with vegetation and several cement water troughs.
shelter
Uncle Paul asked them what they wanted to call their cow. After a conversation in Luganda, they agreed on the name Jessica.
Mzee and Mama told us that Big John, a corrupted "pastor" of a church in Naminya and former husband of their daughter Adisa, had bought them a cow years before. They had built the shelter we were seeing for that cow. The cow had two babies. And then Big John came back, took all the cows, and sold them. Joshua and Beatrice didn't get one shilling from the sale of the cows.
They said they shed many tears over that loss, but Jessica's arrival washed all those tears away.
God works in mysterious ways.... and we never know all of His reasons. But I believe He wanted to demonstrate His love to Joshua and Beatrice, who have gone through some really hard things, in a tangible way.

Cannon

Uncle Paul and Abdu



Abdu and their son Cannon gave instruction on how to care for the cow. Rose took tons of pictures. Sarah laughed with me as joy spilled out and love overflowed. I prayed over Mzee and Mama.... for their future with Jessica.
It was a sweet morning. A moment I'm sooooo thankful I got to be a part of. God was in all of it.


Praying
Thank you Timothy, Thaddeus, and Zachary for giving me the opportunity to witness God at work. You have no idea how much this means to me that you asked me to help deliver this cow. You also have no idea the difference you are making in Uganda. I pray that Father God blesses you for your servant hearts. I love you all so much.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Vulnerability



Everyone has an explanation. A journey and process. A way to reveal how they turned out.
Everyone has pain to some degree, failures, and expectations.
Worries and doubts, happiness and anger.
Emotion. Feelings.

Everyone has a story.

Things we don't think are significant, details we cast off as unimportant, are really the stepping stones to the big picture – the tiny pieces of the intricate puzzle.
God's been showing me a little of His perfect timing. He orchestrates everything perfectly, working things together exactly as they should be. Working out for the best each time. Why is that so hard to believe? To trust? We know there's a higher power who loves us. Who created us as the object of His love. Yet we are skeptical to believe that He'd work out things for the best every time.
He has been showing me change. I keep saying I'm not the same person who arrived here three-and-a-half weeks ago and it's becoming truer every day. It won't stop even when we return, I know that for a fact. It's a little painful at times, but I like to think of it as God massaging the knots out of my life, intentionally exploiting all of the flaws. It's a good hurt. And it's soooo rewarding in the end.
I was asked by Pam to share my story – my testimony, I guess you could say, though I don't like that “church-y” word – with everyone who was here one evening. It was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do, but I knew I needed to and that God would give me the strength. Sitting on the veranda, squeezing the life out of friends' hands beside me, I spilled my guts and was completely vulnerable. I never thought I had a story to tell; I certainly don't have the happy ending. But for the first time I felt like that happy ending was possible. Probable. Guaranteed. I felt liberated. I felt safe. I could feel God's presence as He cried with me. I could feel Him hugging me as I was obediently sharing what He had done in my life and giving the glory back to Him. I knew it was a defining moment in my journey. It was the start of a new chapter.

Some days feel like a roller coaster, constantly up and down emotionally. Nauseating at times. I get sick of myself and the way I am, becoming more apt to change.

Yesterday, I was blessed to wake up to 6 of my brothers from the Dove Voice Band being here, with 2 more arriving in the evening. I feel like I missed out on an incredible opportunity, though, because I took for granted the time they were here and should have spent more time talking to them, relating to them. I wanted no regret on this trip, so I feel I should have taken advantage of having them here, and I didn't. They're awesome guys, so full of the Holy Spirit, and I loved worshiping and praying with them. It makes me want to see them that much more so I can remedy the situation and soak up as much as I can next time.
Hannah, Rose, and I all had talked about wanting Swahili names, and at one point we asked Sami and Robert to give us some. When we talked with them, Sami told me that one had immediately come to mind. He gave me the name, “Ushindi,”(oo-shin-dee) the Swahili word for “victory”. Again, it was God's perfect timing, because my recurring theme is that I'm not a victim anymore. 
 
I'm losing that victim mindset. God's been breaking down my walls and making me be vulnerable; He's helped me overcome my past, slowly getting me to trust again, especially men. This process is so gradual and gentle that it hasn't come as a shock or surprise, and I only really realize the defining changes in hindsight. Having older brothers like the Dove Boys and younger brothers like Mama Sera's boys has helped fill the void that I created by withdrawing from guys all my life. Men loving me and me not fearing. Me feeling safe. Feeling protected.

My heart's getting so full already, and wanting more and more. Instead of just expanding my old one, God gave me a brand new heart and is filling it on a level more than I could have ever imagined before. I want to salvage relationships I’ve lost, people I’ve pushed away.

I am made new.

Love you all!
-Sarah-


Monday, July 25, 2011

Peace

~By Hannah




This trip has opened up multiple opportunities to turn the page... to move on from old chapters and start new ones
We all make mistakes. All of us. And sometimes, I feel like life is about coming to grip with that reality. That none of us are perfect... even though sometimes I wish we were ;) But that's the ugly-beautiful about the cross... what Jesus did for us... that He's not looking for perfection... He's looking for us to be real.
My last trip to Uganda, while filled with sweet relationships and life changing experiences, was also filled with my mistakes.... with choices I made that pushed sweet relationships to the side.... all because I was distracted by someone.
Since coming back, I've honestly been afraid to meet that someone again... to have a face-to-face encounter. Why are we so afraid of conflict? I mean really, many times conflict is the thing that resolves issues... not always, but sometimes. I know I was afraid of conflict with this person. So when I unexpectedly saw him... when he was there, at my shoulder, with no warning, I was scared. And then as quickly as he'd come, he was gone again.
But in my spirit, I felt up-heaved. I felt like I been picked up by my feet and shaken really hard. I felt like melting into an emotional puddle.
Why God? Why now? Why? Why? Why? 
Sarah and Rose were my support that day. I leaned on them like I haven't leaned on anybody in a long, long time!
The next morning, I talked with Paul and Pam about it. Paul said something I'd always thought I believed, but something that hadn't taken root in my heart.... "Topapa (don't rush) Hannah. It's ok. You're safe." I'm safe? Yes, I'm safe.
I was reminded of that truth again as we sat on the veranda. Sami, Robert, Innocent, Serge, and Yves (5 from the Dove Voice Band) sang one my favorite songs by them. As their amazing voices lifted to Heaven in praise, I felt God massaging my heart. You're safe Hannah... look around you. Paul, Pam, Sarah, Rose, Mikki, and these 5 brothers of yours are here for you. They might not know what's going through your mind, but lean on them. Through them, I'll protect you.
Yes... I need people. I know I do. Last time, I thought I could go it alone. But God is reminding me that I can't. As I said in my last post, He lives in each one of us. So He speaks to us, holds us, and loves us through each other.
I'm safe. I'm at peace.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Thoughts on unity and randomness...



Hannah Rose, Robyn Ann, Rosanna Marie, Blair Olivia, Sarah Joy.


Common words and phrases have been thrown toward the group of us by more than a few people. People that hadn't even spent much time with us. Words like unity, togetherness, teamwork. We're meant to be one. While researching the significance of the number 5, we found it was the number of grace. There's a continuity from God that is being shown to us. We are meant to be together, all five of us. We decided to look up each of our name meanings; mine turned out to be “joyful princess” (go figure :P ).
I woke up early the other morning, coughing, and decided to get up so I wouldn't disturb anyone else's sleep. There was nothing really to do, so I got on my computer and started taking online quizzes (yes, I was bored). Usually I would think nothing of it, but I have been trying to focus more on the meaning of certain things rather than being skeptical that they could mean any more than coincidence. One result of a particular quiz that stood out to me was as follows:

People gravitate toward you. You are usually the happiest person in the room.
You are a unifying force. You bring people together from many different walks of life.
You are a joy to be around, and people love you for being exactly who you are.
You are totally comfortable with where you are in life. You accept yourself and your life circumstances.

It fit in exactly with what we have been discussing ever since arriving. Unity. Joy. Living with our life circumstances. This is more than coincidence!
There's a plan that includes each one of us. We rely on each other, each with a uniqueness we could get nowhere else. Everyone contributes, everyone gains. We all have a different story, offer different things to each other, but we're being knit together to make something great.

Though it hasn't been even two weeks yet, I feel a change. We'll have to say goodbye to Blair and Robyn on Wednesday, but I know it's only a “see you soon”. It'll be interesting seeing all of us back home together, now that we've shared life in a different environment and culture. In a new dynamic. Our togetherness doesn't end once they leave here. We'll always have shared this special time together and it will be forever changed when we see them in the US again. I'm still asking why, though. Why was this unity planned? What's the purpose? Time will only tell.

Ok, other random thoughts:
At home, it's so easy to be sucked into things and forget what's really important. It's not like that here; most are intentional at putting relationships first.
I want to enjoy living in the moment, but it goes against my engrained habit of always looking forward, which makes it hard to focus on the here-and-now (just Google INFJ, it'll all make sense).
There are no time limits here, except until August 23rd when we'll have to say goodbye.
There are a few worries, but I give them up to God because He knows what to do with them; I don't.
I want to get an awesome cultural experience, but sometimes I think this trip is not so much about seeing Africa as it is rebuilding, restoring, and letting the Lord take a hold of my life. And He is!
It's about learning how to relate to people instead of sightseeing. I'm okay with that. Because it's not so much the location, but how God's going to change me.

Oh, and no, I haven't tried grasshoppers or seen any monkeys. Yet.

Love,
-Sarah-

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Togezza

-From Hannah's Journal-
The gifts He gives.... love, joy, hope, mercy, grace... blow my mind. I can't fathom the beauty of His acceptance. Why me? What have I ever done to deserve His love? Tewali (tay-wa-lee)... nothing... nothing at all. And yet, He loves me. He.Loves.Me. His love pours down in torrents, in bucketfuls, in great showers, like the amazing Uganda rain hitting the roof and making rivers in the road.

We can't know His love unless we accept His gifts. His gift of people, of relationships, of together, is His greatest way of revealing His fullness. I could never experience His full capacity.... Him... in all His greatness without the love of people. Each of us carries a piece of Him, of His love, that no one else has. If I don't give of myself to others, how will they know the part of Him I carry? Others need me, just as much as I need them.



                                          Robyn, Sarah, Me, Blair, Rose
I sat beside Blair this morning, holding her hand, resting my head on her shoulder... as we all visited together out on the veranda. And I was struck by the sheer beauty of it all... that I can see Jesus in Blair, Rose, Sarah, Uncle Paul, Auntie Pam, Solomon, Jimmy, Robyn, and Jeff. They are each so different, but that uniqueness is what brings life. By us living out who God made each of us to be, we're opening our hearts for Him to work.

And I'm still learning how to give. We all are. It's a journey, a process, but together, in unified in Christ, that process is sweeter, fuller, and richer.

Thank you all for loving me, for believing in me. For giving me a piece of Jesus through your individual love. I know I couldn't do this without you all!! 
I love you!
Hannah