Tears

I am NOT an emotional person. I never have been. But today, I have cried more than I have in a long time. This morning I received a phone call at 7:30 that set the mood for my day. This phone call must have been what broke through the wall, because since then, I have been an emotional wreck! I have cried all day!
Shortly after Kailie died, I met a woman who had just lost her baby, Noah. Over the past 8 1/2 years, we have held each other in prayer and been a strong support for each other. The funny thing is, in all that time, we had never talked on the phone or met in person. It was only last week that we took the plunge and began instant messaging. Even though we have never met in person, or even heard each others' voice, I know she is my friend and will be there whenever I need her.
While God has blessed me with two more children, she and her husband have prayed and tried for more children, but had not been granted this plea. Last month, she told me that they were beginning the IVF process. I knew the egg retrieval would happen around Kailie’s birthday, which also happens to be her nephew, who lives in Heaven, and her sister’s birthdays. As it turned out, the egg retrieval was on their birthdays. This morning, she broke all unwritten “no call” rules to tell me that she was looking at a positive pregnancy test! I cried. I cried in happiness, sharing her excitement and feeling all the emotions I felt when I found out that I was pregnant with Nicholas and with Aubie. I cried out of relief that her prayers had been answered, knowing that God's timing is different than ours and is perfect. I cried in praise for our God who listens to our hearts and has great plans. I cried because I was suddenly overwhelmed with so much emotion for how awesome God is and how he can take anything and use it for His good. I cried, well, because I could…
It is funny, that even though we have never talked in person or even met, I knew her voice the minute I answered my phone this morning. It was as though we had talked a million times and knew everything about each other. There was no awkwardness, no “what to say next” moments. Our friendship has been a total blessing, a gift from God.
As I cried, I thought about our friendship and how strong it is and how it put me in mind of my relationship with God… I don’t have to physically have seen God to know what he looks like. I have seen Him in the face of my children, of my friends, of the people I met in Africa. I do not have to have heard His voice to know His words as they are whispered in my ear, shared through a friend, or through His written word. I don’t have to see God to trust Him with my life and to know that He is the greatest friend, counselor, support that I will ever have. All I have to do is have faith, be willing to trust, and make that call…

Thank you Jesus for your greatness and for having a plan that is greater than we can ever imagine for each of us!

"I come from Zion..."

The main focus of our trip to Uganda was to work with the Zion Project. The Zion Project is the result of the prayers and hard work of Sarita Hartz and her dedicated staff (and family). Part of the Zion Project consists of a Children's Home that houses fourteen girls ages four to thirteen. These girls are orphaned or custody has been given to the Zion Project in order to keep these girls safe from a lifestyle that would be considered our greatest nightmare. At their young age, they have seen and experienced more than many of us ever will in our entire lifetime.
The girls were so excited to have company from far away. Each time we went to the house and each time we went to leave, it was like a flood of hugs. When someone grabbed a book to read, there may be one girl sitting at the beginning, but soon a crowd would be gathered. They loved their pictures to be taken. They would pose and then gather around to see. These girls have every right to be bitter and and angry; to not trust and shy away from strangers. Instead, they were happy and welcoming.
The first night we arrived, Mama Miriam who helps care for the girls, had helped the girls prepare a program. As the girls sang songs of praise and danced, I teared up. To be so young, yet so full of love for God. The girls sang with all their heart and prayed unlike I have ever heard any child pray.
The next time we went, the girls were so excited to sit outside and color! Their pictures were filled with vibrant colors. I knew Joseph had a coat of many colors, but I was unaware that Joseph himself was so colorful, until I looked at the pictures! :-) While playing outside, they would randomly break into song. One would start and soon others would follow. They were happy to spend time with us and with each other.
I have been surprised by people's reactions to my trip to Africa. For the most part, people are supportive and anxious to hear about it. But there have been the people who want to know how spending a week in a third world country filled with poverty, AIDS, disease, trash, stench, hunger, etc could be so rewarding. I try hard to respond by smiling and understanding that if you haven't been there to see and experience it, it would not make sense. Yes, all of these were present, but all it took for me to see a different side of Africa, was to pull through the gates of the Zion Project. Fourteen faces smiling, showing excitement. Fourteen sets of feet jumping up and down. More hugs being shared than I ever dreamed possible in a two minute period. These girls are a walking testimony of the healing power of our mighty God. This was the reason that Africa was so beautiful to me. It was through the compassion of these children and all the other welcoming people that I experienced Africa.

The Teaspoon

One of the first places we went outside of the Zion Project was to the Kasubi Slum. This was a small area outside of town where the Congolese sex workers and the mothers to some of the girls at the Zion Project live. The first thing I noticed was that in all actuality, it was cleaner than Gulu. Not nearly the amount of trash laying around. The children were outside and naturally curious at the arrival of our van. As we unloaded the van and assembled in the middle of the slum, a young boy caught my eye. He did not come up in the crowd initially, but he stood in front of his hut. Clutched in his little hands was a plastic white teaspoon. When he came over to check us out, he still held that teaspoon tightly in his hand, held to his chest. I realized that this tiny piece of plastic, as insignificant as it seemed to me, was this child's prized possession. I went through my pictures to see if I could find this little guy, but no such luck.
Kasubi, I think was I think one of the best parts of my trip. When we arrived, people began to assemble around us. One of the girls grabbed our drum and began the beat. We then danced and praised our God under a mango tree...in Africa! Afterward, the women began bringing couches out of the huts so that we would not have to sit on the ground...as they did. Then the girls each took a turn sharing their stories with us and telling us how God's love was so important to them. The girls were very proud of their children. They brought their babies for us to hold and to awwww over. I received quite the visual demonstration on how the copper bracelet kept Baby Joy from puking after breastfeeding (Use your own imagination here. Gestures are the universal language!) Baby Patrick christened my shirt with pee. The women straightened dresses and stuck the children in front of us for pictures to be taken.
Each wanted us to pray over their huts. They took us by the arm and led us around the slum, stopping when needed to share with us a story and ask for prayer. It was at Kasubi that I met Sarah, the young mother that had recently lost her three children.
I met Joseph at Kasubi as well. He looked to be about six, so I am sure that he was probably nine or so. Joseph came and stood next to me while I was sitting on the couch, listening. I felt his little hand touch my arm a few times before I really paid attention to what he was doing. Each time the wind blew dirt on my skin, he picked it off and cleaned my arm. When a seed fell in my hair, he picked it out. I took Joseph and sat him on my lap, where he settled in. His clothes were dirty and ragged, the back of his shirt was missing, and his skin was dirty. Yet, he spent his time making sure I was clean. His eyes were filled with a smile and his face was welcoming. He took my hand and walked with me for as long as he could before returning home. Joseph taught me a lesson in humility. To have so little, but to be willing to serve with what he did have...heart.
Today, I went to walk down to the basement to wash laundry. Laying in the middle of the stairwell was a metal teaspoon. Immediately, my mind shifted from the agenda that I was mulling over to my time under the mango tree. I am so thankful that God loves me enough to remind me of the little boy and his teaspoon, and how little it takes to really be happy. It isn't about what I don't have or how much I do have. It's all about God's love. I am thankful that as the little boy clutched that teaspoon with all his might, that God does the same for each of His children. Clutching us in his arms, close to his heart, telling us over and over that we are His prized possession...

Nine Years...

Nine years ago today, my daughter, Kailie was born. Nine years ago today, she returned to heaven. I remember the pain and grief that I felt. I didn't understand and I was so hurt. Never would I have thought God would use this experience to do great things in my life. Losing my child has allowed me to minister to others and has created deep friendships with so many others that I may have never connected with. For this I am grateful. Yet still, I had no idea how God could use this...even in Africa.
While at the Kasubi Slums last week, I was given the opportunity to pray with a woman who had recently lost three of the four of her children in a fire. Later I had found out that the woman had just accepted Christ in her life. As I prayed for her and then shared that I understood her pain, we embraced. In that moment, nothing else mattered--language barriers were lifted and circumstances faded. We were two mothers sharing a grief that I would not wish on anyone. It is my prayer that as she learns to walk in faith and finds comfort in God, that she will remember the white woman that came and shared her pain with her. This one moment that we shared, is by far one of my favorite moments of the entire trip.
God doesn't wish anything bad on anyone. He did not take Kailie or Sarah's three children. He didn't take my friend's little Noah or Syre. The truth is we live in a fallen world that is so far away from what God had intended. But when we can reach out and give the situation back to God, He will use our pain and suffering in ways that is beyond imaginable. He has proven this to me time and time again! For this I am grateful!

wow...

There is so much that I want to share, but right now there is too much to process and so much else to do.
Our time in Uganda was nothing short of a magnificent gift from God. We witnessed God working in ways that is beyond measure or words. We went to minister to the women and children of Uganda, but I feel the table was turned and we were ministered to by the women and children of Uganda.
Hopefully by this weekend I will have time to sit and share the experience for all of those that have supported the team financially and or spiritually.

We serve a mighty God, my friends. My life has been richly blessed...