abide with me

Learning to abide with Him, in each moment of each day. Here's some 'snaps' (pictures) of what life has been like lately.

Mama Esther and Misach.

Jason.. being his usual Jason-self.

Misachi snuggle-time!

Dan the man.

Isaac, playing in the rain.

Out to town for soda and sweeties!

Mama Nam and baby Grace.

Jamil being cool.

Sleeping baby James- the newest addition to our house.

"I need Thy presence every passing hour. What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power? Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be? Through cloud and sunshine, abide with me."

eternal lasting love

"And so we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen; for what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." -2 Corinthians 4:18

This scripture, I have it memorized, written on a paper duct-taped to the end of my bed, and highlighted in my bible. But lately it seems God is taking that passage of Scripture, and making in come alive before my eyes in a way I haven't seen before.

I'm learning what it means to invest in the unseen. I used to think that in order to do that, one had to give up all the seen things… the phones and tv shows and blogs and nice houses and cute clothes and such. In my mind, keeping you eyes on the unseen meant sacrificing all secular things and pleasures and comforts. But oh, what I am learning is that He doesn't want my sacrifice merely for the sake of sacrifice. He's not interested in my service or my deeds, He doesn't need them. He will use them, and wants to use us, but that's not what He's after. What He's most interested in are the hearts of His people.

I tend to get caught up in the sacrifice, kind of like the people of Isaiah 58 who were so busy focusing all their attention on the religious act of fasting that they completely missed the heart of God. I think that in sacrificing the comforts of America  -a hot shower, space, alone time, tv shows, unlimited, high-speed wifi, and all that loveliness- I was fixing my eyes on the unseen. But my prideful heart gets so caught up looking at what I'm sacrificing that my focus is still on the seen, even after I've been removed from it and think I've given it up.

Invest in the unseen. He whispers it in the quiet of the morning. That doesn't necessarily mean comforts and nice things, though sometimes it does. But I'm beginning to see 2 Corinthians 4:18 in a new light. Invest in people, invest in relationships, invest in love, in compassion, in mercy, in kindness. Spend time focusing on and living in the things that will last, the things that are eternal.

These are the words I wrote in my journal, sitting in my bed-bug-invested bed in the middle of sunny, hot Uganda. Words I know I'll need to read over and over again when I come home in March, and struggle and readjust to life in America. 

"Love," I hear You whisper it over and over again. What is the purpose of my life? Love. I want to know why You have me here in Uganda. Love. What do I do when I go home? Love. What is the point of this life? Love. I want to know what it means to be a Christ-follower. Love. All these questions that race through my mind, and Your answer is constant. "Invest in things eternal. Invest in love." 

Maybe I'm not called to give up every earthly comfort. Maybe I'm not called to be a pastor or overseas missionary or doctor. Maybe I'm not called to give out food and life-saving medicine. Maybe I'm not called to preach the Gospel on the street corners. Maybe… maybe I'm just called to love. And maybe those things, they'll just happen because of Love inhabiting the depths of my very being. 

Maybe there will be seasons where I am called to love in Uganda. And then seasons where I will love in Chicago. And seasons that maybe [I hope] will take me other places to other people. Maybe one day love means giving up my free time to go to coffee with a friend. Maybe another day, love means hugging a baby just a bit tighter. Love might mean buying shoes for a pair of bare, dirty, bleeding feet. Love might mean watching a movie and laughing one day, and the next day love might mean giving up a hot shower to be with a hurting soul. One day love might mean baking cookies for a friend, and the next it might mean donating food to the food pantry. Love will manifest in many different ways in many different places at many different times in many different seasons. But You're teaching me that it's not about sacrifice or following the rules or putting enough 'service time' in at a local church or giving up enough time, and effort, and offering money. Those things may happen out of response to love, but that's not what it's all about. What is all about is loving, wherever you are and whoever you're with. 

Thank You for Love. Fill me with Your love, Lord, that it may overflow into hearts and lives all around.

Love Divine, all love excelling. Joy of heaven, to earth come down. Fix in us Thy humble dwelling. All Thy faithful mercies crown. Jesus, Thou art all compassion. Pure, unbounded love Thou art. Visit us with Thy salvation, enter every trembling heart. 

sweet longing

i've put off writing a blogpost because -if I'm keeping it real- I haven't wanted to process life lately. And writing a blogpost, it usually requires a stilled heart and processing life. The reality is that I'm overwhelmed with tiredness, and loneliness, and worry, and doubt. And when I am alone with just me and my thoughts, it results in a bit of a freak out-mental breakdown. So I've stayed busy- snuggling babies and running errands in town and cooking dinner and taking kids for walks to Kimaka to buy fresh pineapple for dinner. 

But now here I am.. alone in the aunties room, sitting in my top bunk, wearing running shorts and a tank top and fuzzy socks, pouring sweat, and drinking hot chocolate [when she misses cold weather, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do]. 

my soul, it's a restless soul. stirring deep within me for something more. longing for something that is not of this world.

before i left for uganda this September, I used to think it was Uganda I was longing for… and Uganda that would fill that deep longing and Uganda that would put my restless soul at peace and Uganda that would satisfy my heart. And then I got to Uganda -and it was everything I remembered and expected- but the restless spirit inside wasn't put at peace, rather it became even more agitated. 

i'm coming to surrender to the reality that my heart, it will always be longing. My spirit will forever be a tad bit restless with these days I live here on this earth. I will never find the place on this globe where I feel I belong- whether Africa or America or any other country. Because my heart wasn't meant to call this earth home.

I spent many days last year longing to 'just be back in Uganda already'. And now I've spent the past [almost] week overwhelmed with homesickness, counting down the weeks until I am back in Chicago, dreaming of seeing the faces of people I love so dearly. I think of school, of babysitting, of other trips to other countries. I think of 20 years from now. I think of marriage and kids and being settled in life. And I think I'm just being slightly obsessed with the future, and i think I'm not trusting Him with the now and living in the present. And I pray it over and I surrender my future, and still i'm restless.

It's when this longing gets to its greatest point that she tells me to read 2 Corinthians. And it's in reading those verses that it comes together: my restlessness, my thoughts of the future, my wanting Uganda and wanting America… those aren't the things I'm really longing for. What I'm longing for, what we're all longing for, [when you dig to the root of it] is life before the fall, life in the garden, life spent walking hand-in-hand with the Lord. What I'm longing for, it's not attainable. Not here on this earth, not now. But I know that one day it will be [and oh, what a glorious day that will be]. And until that day comes, we live with the Spirit and we live to please Him.

"Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, a guaranteeing of what is to come. Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body, we are away from the Lord. We live by faith, and not by sight. We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it." [2 Corinthains 5:1-9]

It's an overwhelming thought, sometimes a bit depressing… to think that wherever you call home will never completely feel that way. But in the long run, I know I wouldn't have it any other way. Because I am not made of this world, and I am not made for this world. I fear feeling at home in this world. Because the minute I start feeling at home here is the minute I lose my eternal perspective, it's the minute I forget that there's more waiting for us beyond this life we see with our eyes right now. And all the beautiful moments, the happiest of times, they don't compare to what He has in store.

"I need an eternal perspective." I tell it to her on the walk to town, thankful for sweet friendship, "Because when I have an eternal perspective on life, I want to be restless. That feeling of longing, it keeps me remembering this life isn't all there is. It reminds me I was intended to live in a different world." 

ordinary days with an extraordinary God

I want to take off my shoes, fall on my knees. Because surely The Almighty is here, surely this is holy ground. 

"Auntie! Auntie, you see!" hot sun beats down on browned shoulders. i'm watching his legs pump back and forth. "Asanee!" I say, "I see!" Eyes squeeze shut tight, face lifted to the sky, the rush of the wind, his smile so big. 

My hands burn, touching the black, hot gate. It's been a long day in town, walking town and buying fruit at central market. He's sitting on his rock with his favorite Uncle Simon, babbling on about something in a language I don't understand. He greets me with laughter and a bear hug, his four limbs wrapped around my waist, face smashed into my stomach, laughter erupting. 

Late nights and tiptoes and quiet whispers… the aunties are peeking in on their sleeping kids, again. Blankets and footie-pajamas and children burrowed beneath mosquito netting. Misachi. He's laying there, grinning and adorable and content, as always.

 Dark and chilly and quiet mornings. I lay tossing and turning until I surrender to the fact that sleep won't come. I walk out of the gate, running shoes laced and iPod on. And the sight I see, it takes my breath away. Fog rolls and the sky is pink and tiny rays of sunshine burst through the clouds.

I've been at a loss as to what to write on this little blog, because (believe it or not) this life in Uganda is pretty ordinary. Diaper changes and snack time and school and crying children and time-out's and frustration and lots of laughter. What I'm learning is that I serve an extra-ordinary God who meets us in the ordinary.

At first glance, these are all just ordinary moments. But when my heart stills enough to take it all in, I see how extraordinary it really all is. Glory and holiness juxtaposed with sin-stained man, some days the wonder of it brings me to my knees. Ordinary moments and ordinary days, made extraordinary by the presence of a loving, holy God. And I stand, hands uplifted, thankful.

christmas in uganda

Pictures of what the month of December looked like for us here at Ekisa.. Christmas crafts and Christmas baking and lots of fun on Christmas morning. Enjoy the pictures!

Making paper candy canes and other fun Christmas-y crafts.

Our mini gingerbread houses.. made with glucose biscuits and sweeties.

Baby Grace making his paper snowflake.

Christmas cookies!

Isaac only wanted the frosting. 

Eating sprinkles from the table. A good auntie would've stopped this, I however, took a picture instead. Priorities, keeping 'em straight.

Rachel with possibly too much sugar in her system.

Eating frosting and sprinkles, because who needs the actual cookie?

Our wise men in the Ekisa nativity play, in their finest moment.

Bethlehem also had zebra and tiger in the stable, didn't you know? :)

"I have no room, but you can stay in my stable." 

Walking the gifts to baby Jesus.

Jamil the shepherd. 

Christmas day!

Our boys in their new Ekisa t-shirts!

Two troubles waiting for their stockings.

Jamil opening his stocking full of underwear and toy balls and sweeties.

Sam, so happy about his toy helicopter!

Jason and his motoka (motor car). He was so excited! 

A new football and football net.

Debra and I hope you had a very Merry Christmas and a blessed New Year!

something beautiful

Our children run around the yard with torn up leaves and sticks, playing airplanes. Even though motorcars and other toys are available for them to play with, they treasure these airplanes. "Voom voom!" round and round the red-dirt yard they run. "Auntie see? Auntie see?" They look at me, to make sure my eyes are watching them. I smile, pretending I haven't seen this a million times before. Pretending this is something new. "Yes, I see! So cool, so cool!" But today, for the first time, I actually do see.

They come up to me with a leaf and twig in hand, "Auntie! Aeroplane aeroplane! Make aeroplane," they beg. I open my hands to receive these dirt-covered twigs and leaves. "Aeroplane Auntie." In my hands lay twigs and leaves, making mud marks on my hands. I want to ask… An airplane, really? But you have toys inside, why are you playing with garbage? Because what I see is something that most people sweep up out of their yard and get rid of, but they see the beautiful toy airplane it can become. 

These children, they never stop teaching me. It's always an unintentional teaching, in them doing nothing but living and being. But they continue to teach me all the same [the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these, yes?]. These children with their toy aeroplanes made of twigs and leaves find beauty in what I see as purposeless. They run up to me, begging me to make it into a beautiful 'aeroplane'. And after 3 long months, I finally get it.

I run to Him with my life in my hands, begging Him to make it into something beautiful. My dirty, broken life. It's messy, and I'm ugly. I know the depth of the ugliness in my heart; the sin that entangles and stains; the pride and selfishness that, once they've taken root, are hard to remove. Trapped in this life of being just a dirty twig and falling apart leaf, I have hopes and dreams. I imagine what my life could be. Just as my kids imagine their twigs becoming airplanes, I imagine my life becoming something new, something beautiful. 

I can't make my life into anything. On my own, I can't make it mean much. But I know He can. He can make it into something beautiful. My messy life can become beautiful when, and only when, I surrender it to become part of His plan for this earth. So I run to Him -the Maker of beautiful things- with my life in my hands. I run to the cross, where precious and holy blood was shed. I run to the place where His death gives me a chance at a new, beautiful life. I run to the God who made Adam, the One who makes life rise from the dust. I run to the smelly stable, where in a feeding trough the Babe who is the Savior of the world lays. I run hard, desperate and hopeful.. my feet pounding and lungs straining for breath. "Father! Please, make this broken life into something beautiful!" 

 "All around hope is springing up from this old ground; life is being found. You make beautiful things out of the dust; You make beautiful things out of us." 

Thank You for seeing us, for all that we are, and still loving us. Please don't stop. Take our broken lives and make us into something to be part of Your beautiful plan.

you know you've been in africa for 3 months when

Today marks exactly 3 months of being in Uganda (Sunday marked 3 months since I left Chicago). Craziness, right? Well, in light of that craziness, I present to you... this post. Enjoy.

You know you've been in africa for 3 months when…

-the phrase "good night sleep tight don't let the bed bugs bite." is a legitimate term.

-random men profess their love for you while you're on the back of a boda. "mzungu, mzungu i love you so much!"

-pinterest makes you sad… because Uganda doesn't have cheese, or good chocolate, or cold weather.

-your days are filled with more snuggles than imaginable. 

-you've got a pretty sweet watch tan line on your wrist.

-shaving your legs is now considered optional.

-"ohh. sorry for you." is a term you use quite frequently, and you're not being sarcastic when you say it. 

-your toothbrush smells like mold, but you use it anyway.

-you get susu-ed on, and you don't care.

-you walk in the gate and the sound of "auntie! auntie!" as kids come running and screaming brings a smile to your face, because you are home.

-every night ends with "1… 2… 3…" Walter kisses.

-there's ants in the sugar, but you're so over that.

-you find yourself holding a little girl in church, rocking back and forth to the music, wondering how in the world you're going to leave this place in just 3 short months.

-the water shutting off during the middle of your shower is nothing new.

-your tennishoes look like this:

-your cellphone has a torch on it. and you've used it countless times.

-dance parties happen on a daily basis.

-me typing "ongea mama" just made you smile.

-waking up to silence is a thing of the past.

-you're constantly connecting and disconnecting your internet to read and write emails (and you have have dreams about it before).

-minutes feel like years and weeks feel like seconds. you're living in a time warp.

-you can buy a pineapple for 90 cents but cereal costs $12.

-you stare 2 seconds longer than you should when you see blonde haired, blue eyed mzungu kids.

-you eat 1/2 a bag of m&m's in one sitting, and don't feel guilty about it.

-you have susu on your skirt, and don't change.

-you wear the same shirt for 8 days in a row.

-one look at this kid's face, and any sort of time-out you needed to put him in so not gonna happen.

-cockroaches come out of the table, and that's a normal thing.

-Reese's cups are more valuable than gold.

-you kill at least 10 ants on your arms in one day.

-you eat your dinner off a mickey mouse plate with a baby spoon every night.

-you shower next to the toilet.

-"we are clicking casinets. C… C… C…" is stuck in your head for 24 hours straight.

-this is pretty standard and typical:

-you say things like, "It's a beautiful day to burn medical waste."

-you hop a random boda home and when you give him directions to Ekisa, he says, "I know! I know, Madame. We've been this way many times before." Ooops.

-instant coffee and powdered coffee creamer are the best thing that's ever happened to your life.

-one day you cry because you're so homesick. and the next day you cry because you cannot imagine leaving this place.

*picture*

-the same child shows you a very minor cut a dozen times a day, if not more.

-you look up in the shower and see 8 geckos on the walls.

-your car game isn't punch buggy or the license plate game or banana, it's mzungu! 

-after being away from the house all day, all you can think about is getting back to those kiddos. not seeing them for 10 hours make you miss 'em something awful.

-you learn mosquito nets keep out more than just mosquitos- they keep out cockroaches and geckos and flying-creepy-bugs as well.

-60 degrees means bundle up in yoga pants and a hoodie and wool socks. no joke.

-your boda drives through a herd of cows on your way to the Nile, and you're quite certain -as you sit on the back gripping your friend's t-shirt, inches away from humongous cows with humongous horns- that this is how your life is going to end.

-you spend a 3-hour-long car ride wondering how you can have an American and Ugandan life without having to sacrifice people or plans or futures or comforts or purpose.

-you realize your heart will forever be in two places at the same time.