We rarely used the small t.v. mounted on the wall of our bedroom in the apartment, but for the next two months it lulled me to sleep each night. On the bottom of the screen was a red light, and each night I would stare at it until I couldn't any longer. In the mornings, I could never remember falling asleep- which meant I didn't relive that Thursday night.
The drive back to my apartment felt longer than usual- maybe because I was driving carefully scared of black ice or because I knew in an hour I would be returning to the other side of town. It was cold. Very cold. My truck began heating up as I pulled off the highway, one stop-light away from arriving home. I kicked off my snow-covered shoes and flicked on the lights. The apartment was empty which was becoming more and more common. I put my clothes in the dryer and headed upstairs to my room to pack for snowboarding the next day. I remember being exhausted. I didn't want to drive back to the condo that night and sleep on the couch, but I reasoned with myself saying that it would be better to go tonight then to have to wake up even earlier the next morning. I turned on the small t.v. in our room and stumbled upon a John Mayer concert on VH1. He was playing songs from his new album, Battle Studies, which I had recently fallen in love with. Knowing how much it would mean to my roommate, I went out into the loft and recorded it for her. I curled up at the foot of my bed to rest- I knew if I got under the covers I would never leave. John Mayer was slowly putting me to sleep when my phone vibrated- unleashing chaos I would have never phathomed.
"Is Corey okay?"
An old friend from high school had text me. Confused I read the message once more.
I asked her what Corey she was talking about thinking maybe she had text the wrong person. She called- probably after deciding texting wasn't the best way to break the news.
"It's all over Facebook, Amanda. Things like rest in peace, Corey Shaw."
Frantically I fumbled for my laptop, but I was too impatient to wait for it to start. I told her I had to go and quickly hung up. I knew there must have been a mistake. I called my friend who would know what was going on. She didn't answer. I called again and still no answer. I logged into Facebook and began scrolling down barely making out the words on the screen. I called another friend- no answer. Panic grabbed hold of me. The third friend answered- her voice was shaky and hesitant, undoubtedly unsure of what to say yet knowing she would be the one to have to tell me. My voice cracked as I tried to speak, and my eyes swelled with tears.
"Tell me what happened" was all I could manage.
Detail after detail, the story unraveled as I cried bitterly on my knees in shock- how he was found, what he had done earlier that day, who he had been with, how things had been hard for him lately. Every horrific detail engraved in my mind. I hung up shattered, and when the harsh reality quickly set in, I wept. I called my roommate and left a voicemail crying and begging for her to return my call. I called my old youth pastor, the one who knew the same teenage Corey that I did. He didn't answer twice. When he called back, I answered the phone screaming at him.
"You said you'd always answer! You said you'd always be there! Why didn't you answer?!" By the last line, I was balling.
His voice told me how much grief his soul was carrying. He said he was at an altar praying.
Crying I asked, "Is he in Hell?"- completely terrified of the answer I could receive.
"Murder is taking someone's life and suicide is taking one's own life, so does that mean he's in Hell?"
This night had reduced my faith to the theology of getting into Heaven meant following all the rules and Hell meant breaking them and not asking for forgiveness.
"We aren't going to talk about this tonight."
Desperately, I was searching for some kind of comfort. Someone to pick up the pieces that had suddenly been scattered across the floor of my loft. My throat dried- the way it does when you're going to throw up- I crawled on my hands and knees across the carpeted loft to my bathroom. I stuck my head in the toilet and watched my tears fall, each making ripples across the water. I sat down on the cold tile and made another call. This time she answered. I hadn't talked to her in years, but that night we cried together.
I heard my front door close and movement in the kitchen. Relieved to no longer be alone, I call out.
"Danae?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you come up and sit with me?"
She held me at the top of the stairs while I called my mom. By this time it was late, and I knew by my mom's voice that I had woken her up. We decided I would drive home in the morning once I had calmed down. I should have been at the condo by now, so I called my cousin and told her what happened. She convinced me to come stay the night with them anyways.
Calls and texts began flooding my phone from people I hadn't heard from since high school. Finally I composed myself to drive, grabbed my stuff, and headed to the other side of town. The door of the condo opened to Wendy and Nikki ready to embrace me, and I let myself fall into the comfort of their arms. Ryan and Dusty were playing Apples-to-Apples at the table, and eventually talked me into playing until bed. I laid on the couch that night staring at the ceiling stunned.
The next week or so proved to be restless. Nights were the worse. It became impossible for me to sleep because I was afraid of the images that would come to mind when I closed my eyes. I took medicine. I exercised. Joy would stay the night so I wouldn't be alone and would read the Old Testament to me before bed. Mostly I prayed for sleep- begged even. I thought God wasn't listening.
Almost two years later, everything is new. I'm in a new city, new school, new job, new friends... I'm curled up in Sara's bed crying while she holds me in silence. My fingers are tucked into the collar of my shirt pulling it away so it can't touch my neck- a discomfort I can no longer handle. It's been at least an hour laying in the dark. Her heartbeat pounding in my ear is slowing my breathing. I glance up at the ceiling, and my gaze falls upon the green light of the smoke alarm. Entranced, I'm able drift off to sleep- pushing away the memories of that Thursday night.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Beneath the Surface
He sits down in front of the keyboard on stage, and his words of goodness and love begin flowing through the speakers. I look around and question if coming was a good idea. The Rec Room is filled with students and staff- all intently listening to him. The band begins playing a familiar tune, and the room is suddenly filled with the unison of voices. I quickly realize how out of place I am. I stare blankly at the words on the screen, but no words leave my mouth. I begin to sweat and feel my chest tightening. My eyes scan the room frantically searching for an exit, and I conclude I have two options. The door in front of me means I must walk toward the stage in front of everyone before slipping out into the cool night air. The other is behind me around the corner- sadly it is blocked by a multitude of people with arms held high singing. Everything in me says to run, to get out of there as fast as I can, but I don't. Instead I'm only able to inch my way backwards. By this point, I can see the Spirit moving among the room. I watch as an outsider as those around me sing so passionately- something I can no longer wrap my mind around. The song changes and the pressure increases. Overwhelmed, I force myself to leave.
Swimming is a part of life- how can it not be when you are from Arizona, growing up on a river, and the pool business runs in the family. By far, my favorite has always been swimming in the ocean. You must willing submit control when entering the ocean. The tides can drag you into its vastness. You are at the mercy of sea creatures. You cannot tell a wave not to crash. You are powerless- and that intrigues me.
The sun was beating down making the water refreshing as I continued to stray further from the shore diving under wave after wave. Before long, I was unable to touch the ocean floor. I glanced back to the beach making sure I was directly in front of our chairs and towels- a technique I learned as a kid. When the tides would begin to pull me, I'd swim to shore, run along the beach to where our stuff was, and then head back into the water. If they were strong, I would run past our stuff to give myself more time to get pulled before having to swim back in.
I was preoccupied with handstands and flips when the first wave of the set came by surprise. I inhaled and dove down to the floor digging my toes in the sand determined to hold my ground. I felt the wave roll across my back and pass over me. It was as if I had gone undetected. I pushed myself to the surface and instantly felt the warm air against my face. I opened my eyes only to find another wave about to crash. Before I had time to catch my breath, it fell, pulling me down with it. The wave threw my body against the floor and violently tossed me in all directions. I no longer knew which way to swim. I felt my chest tighten informing me that I would soon need another breath of air. Although I knew in a few moments the sea would settle and I would surface, panic began creeping into my thoughts. This must be what drowning feels like.
Three nights later, goodness and love are echoing through the speakers again- this time from a man with a guitar. I'm cynical as I hear his words. I can feel the bass beating in my bones as the drummer begins to play. I'm again out of place. Overwhelmed and embarrassed, I begin taking small steps backwards until my calves are pressed against my chair leaving me with no where to go. Hot tears are slowly trickling down my cheeks when Sara's arm brushes against mine bringing me back into the reality that I'm not alone. The urge to run is tugging at me, but I stay- uncomfortably immersed in the community I have chosen to be apart of and know is best for me. We are dismissed, and I walk home in silence once again emotionally exhausted.
The sea will soon settle, and I will surface- I just have to hold my breath a little longer.
Swimming is a part of life- how can it not be when you are from Arizona, growing up on a river, and the pool business runs in the family. By far, my favorite has always been swimming in the ocean. You must willing submit control when entering the ocean. The tides can drag you into its vastness. You are at the mercy of sea creatures. You cannot tell a wave not to crash. You are powerless- and that intrigues me.
The sun was beating down making the water refreshing as I continued to stray further from the shore diving under wave after wave. Before long, I was unable to touch the ocean floor. I glanced back to the beach making sure I was directly in front of our chairs and towels- a technique I learned as a kid. When the tides would begin to pull me, I'd swim to shore, run along the beach to where our stuff was, and then head back into the water. If they were strong, I would run past our stuff to give myself more time to get pulled before having to swim back in.
I was preoccupied with handstands and flips when the first wave of the set came by surprise. I inhaled and dove down to the floor digging my toes in the sand determined to hold my ground. I felt the wave roll across my back and pass over me. It was as if I had gone undetected. I pushed myself to the surface and instantly felt the warm air against my face. I opened my eyes only to find another wave about to crash. Before I had time to catch my breath, it fell, pulling me down with it. The wave threw my body against the floor and violently tossed me in all directions. I no longer knew which way to swim. I felt my chest tighten informing me that I would soon need another breath of air. Although I knew in a few moments the sea would settle and I would surface, panic began creeping into my thoughts. This must be what drowning feels like.
Three nights later, goodness and love are echoing through the speakers again- this time from a man with a guitar. I'm cynical as I hear his words. I can feel the bass beating in my bones as the drummer begins to play. I'm again out of place. Overwhelmed and embarrassed, I begin taking small steps backwards until my calves are pressed against my chair leaving me with no where to go. Hot tears are slowly trickling down my cheeks when Sara's arm brushes against mine bringing me back into the reality that I'm not alone. The urge to run is tugging at me, but I stay- uncomfortably immersed in the community I have chosen to be apart of and know is best for me. We are dismissed, and I walk home in silence once again emotionally exhausted.
The sea will soon settle, and I will surface- I just have to hold my breath a little longer.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Ready for Take Off
The engine is roaring as my seat begins to shake. I close my eyes and lean back trying to get control of my mind. Once we begin to ascend, I put in headphones in hopes of escaping into my memories for awhile. Images and videos quickly start streaming through my head. As I look out the window, I try imagining the British couple sitting next to me quietly reading or Kristin fast asleep on my lap. Warm tears begin softly rolling down my cheeks before reaching 10,000 feet, and for the next hour I quietly cry in my empty row. I can’t pretend. My heart knows that we’ll be landing too soon, that I’ll be back to where I started- no closer than I was landing in Vegas five months ago.
I’ve always had a fascination with planes. When I was in high school, I got into a ritual of sneaking out my bedroom window at night only to lay in the rocks and watch the stars. As each plane passed, I would imagine the people on it and their stories- where they were going, who they were leaving behind, their goodbyes and hellos. Planes are simply immersed in goodbyes and hellos. They are inevitable.
Occasionally I would pray for the people on the planes and their journeys- for the child going to see her father for the first time in years, the businessman who would be away from his family, the couple going to announce their engagement, the girl trying to start over in a new city. The stories went on and on in my mind. All of them had something in common- distance and nearness, separations and reunions.
My love for planes has only increased over the past five months. I’ve become captivated by them- their essence of uncertainty, adventure, escape. From the ground, I’ve watched them fantasizing that I’m one of the many stories some young girl is praying for- that in eight hours I’ll be landing in London only to board another plane.
The fasten seatbelt light turns on, and we begin our descent. We turn to the left allowing me to clearly see city lights for miles. I imagine them as stars lighting up the ground. The flight attendant begins going through our landing procedure and ends with “Welcome to Las Vegas." Back to reality.
Monday, August 1, 2011
My Heart is Bent: Part Four
After that last journal entry, I stopped writing for four days, so let me fill you in on what happened. Wednesday, I spent every moment I could with Benita. At that point, she didn't know I was leaving the next morning. The school choir put on a goodbye performance for us Wednesday night, and Benita fell asleep in my lap. The next morning we woke up around 7am, and I was not feeling well at all. I tried to pass it off as just being upset about leaving, but my stomach kept getting worse. I took Benita to the clinic one last time. She had finished her deworming and malaria medicine, but I could tell she still wasn't completely better yet. I took her to class, and then Kristin and I walked around to each class to say goodbye. I could barely focus because my stomach was hurting so bad. Saying goodbye to Benita and the rest of the toddlers was the hardest because I knew they didn't understand. Patrick kept telling them things in Luganda, and Benita refused to smile. After finally making myself put her down and walk away, we packed up the truck. While we were waiting to go, my stomach pain became unbearable, and I began weeping. Tums didn't help at all. The pain got worse fast, and our new goal was to make it to Kyotera (a town about an hour away). The pain was bad enough to make me delusional and light-headed. I don't remember much of what I was saying, but I remember crying a lot and begging for my mom. Once we got to Kyotera, Patrick dropped us off at a hotel to use the bathroom. I realized how weak I was when I was having a hard time walking. I remember waiting for Patrick outside the hotel on the ground hysterically crying in pain. I also remember people talking to me saying I had malaria and wanting to take me to the hospital. Kristin bought me a Sprite, but I had no desire for any food or drinks. I don't remember the next part of the car ride or where we were, but Patrick was starting to panic when we left the hotel, and we ended up at a clinic in a village somewhere. At this point, walking was even more of a challenge, so Kristin or Patrick had to hold me up anytime we went anywhere. I remember the doctor was very nice. I was crying and staring at a lizard on the ceiling while she examined my stomach. They gave me seven or eight different types of medicine to take and told me I had food poisoning. After they left the room, I began screaming for a basin. I felt a lot better after vomiting, so we continued on towards Kampala. The stomach pain came back not long after we left. After stopping a few more times, we finally made it to the condo in Kampala. Patrick took us to a restaurant for dinner, but the food was making me nauseous. I laid in the truck while they went to get me crackers and bread to eat later. Kristin and I both knew that sleeping was very unlikely. After Kristin had to force me to take my medicine, I threw up again. The night guard (the one who killed Cluckster) even came and tried to take me to the hospital, but I was being stubborn and was determined to make it to Kenya first. Kristin called our friend Sara and her mom more times than I can remember to see what we should do. Around 2am Friday morning, I was dry-heaving, which I consider to be way worse than actually throwing up. After talking to Sara again around 4am, I called home to let my parents know what was going on. I knew my mom would be extremely worried (she had every right to), so I felt relieved when my dad answered and jokingly told me food poisoning is a great way to lose weight. Patrick came to pick us up around 6am, and neither of us had slept more than two or three hours. We went to Fred's house to say goodbye. He is now walking, talking, eating, and altogether doing much better. Kristin made calls to the orphanage in Kenya to ask where the hospital was, and the director told us to cancel our driver because she wanted to pick us up and take us herself. I was much more willing to go to the doctor in Kenya after that.
The Ugandan airport was an awful experience. I needed a bathroom ASAP, but we needed to check-in first. After weighing our bags, the man told us they were overweight, and we owed him $120. I was in no condition to negotiate, so I handed over $200. He told me he would have to go to the office to get change, but to just go ahead to our gate and he would bring it. Obviously that wasn't going to happen, so we sat there and waited. When I started crying because I wasn't feeling good, Kristin went to talk to him again and ended up just getting yelled at. Finally he came with our change and told us we were going to miss our plane if we didn't hurry. The whole plane ride I kept focusing on getting to Kenya. That was my only priority. I don't know how to explain what happened after that. Once we landed, I felt so much better. We went to the doctor anyways just to make sure, and I was surprised to walk in and find a white British woman. Kristin explained where we had been and what symptoms I was having. She gave the doctor the medicine I had been taking too. The doctor didn't know some of the pills I had been taking, but apparently I was taking pills for every possible condition. She prescribed me different medicine, and I was relieved that Posey, the nurse at IAA, was with me to explain everything and talk with the doctor.
We got settled into our room that evening and played with the kids. Everything was so different for us. We were no longer the only white people around, and having electricity and running water consistently took some getting use to.
I didn't write daily in Kenya, but now that you're caught up on the transition, here are my journal entries from Kenya:
Sunday, July 17: "IAA is a completely different world. It's way more overwhelming even though there are less kids. Since I've been so sick, I haven't had time to miss the kids- even Benita. I dreamt about them last night though. It doesn't feel like we left at all... I now understand Sara's love for Joy a lot better... It's the only purpose I've found here... Joy is so funny and silly that I find myself laughing all day when I imagined I'd be crying. She would be the one to cheer me up... Last night the power went out, and Joy sat on the floor by herself in front of the mirror and danced for 20 minutes... She loves playing ring-around-the-rosie and flying on my feet... For awhile, she laid on me the way Benita did. It made me miss her."
Monday, July 18: "It feels like I'm just prolonging- possibly worsening- the pain I'm going to endure. Today I just wanted to go and get it over with... Plus everyday I fall a little more in love with Joy and that will only be one more kid to miss and cry over... I've been so scared of leaving and now some kind of courage has swept over me, and I'm ready to face it. Maybe it's more of defeat. I still don't know how I'm going to do this, but I know I have no choice. In one week, I face a new reality, and as much as I kick and scream, it's going to happen."
Thursday, July 21: "Tomorrow morning we leave for safari. I'm not excited at all. I'm not sure why. Everyone says it's so amazing. I guess to me the safari means it's over. I leave as soon as we get back, and as much as I'm ready to get it over with, I want to stay... I had another great day with Joy- I'm beginning to think anything other than a great day is impossible if I'm with her... It was just Kristin, Kelly, and I for the afternoon, so we decided to take Joy, Jacob, and Hope upstairs to watch Lion King. When I set Joy down, I realized how awful she smelled, so we went back downstairs for a diaper change. She had poop all the way up her back... I grabbed her and headed for the shower, but I couldn't get it to work. My only other option was upstairs, so Joy followed me up there in her diaper. She was excited every time I took her upstairs today. I quickly took off my cardigan, rolled up my pants, and her and I jumped in the shower... Joy made me laugh most of the day. She just does the funniest things... I know how stupid it is of me for falling in love with her. I had no intentions of falling in love at all in Kenya."
Sunday, July 24: "I'm scared- terrified even. The thought of leaving puts knots in my stomach... I'm not ready. Whatever courage I had has been pulled out from under my feet... In less than 24 hours, what I've been dreading for months will become a reality that I'll have no choice but facing... I was afraid that since I was gone for two days she might have already forgotten me but instead she stuck to me like glue until I put her to sleep. We played all day long, nonstop... This is going to hurt, and I knew it from the start. The worst part is forgetting. The memories will be set into my mind like stone. I will remember Benita and Joy, but as a picture or video I look at a thousand times. The sound of their laughs will fade. The way I can easily imagine their movement will disappear. I'll always remember, but I'll always forget."
Tuesday, July 26: "I'm in the London airport, and to my surprise, I'm relatively calm. I'm not sure how I got to this point... Joy wouldn't let me put her down, but thankfully April (the intern) got there, and I knew Joy would go to her. I think as soon as I started carrying my bags downstairs Joy figured out I was leaving. When her and I sat down, she turned, wrapped her arms around my neck, and just hugged me. Everyone was outside to say goodbye, and I was doing good until I hugged Kristin, and she started crying. When I got in the van, I couldn't take my eyes off of them... I barely said a word during the drive. Talking about silly things didn't seem to matter. I just stared out the window thinking... I fought back tears the whole time- they only won once...I realized it was neither when I got to the airport and was told I didn't have a seat on the plane. My heart raced, and my new focus quickly became getting to London. It's funny how badly I didn't want to leave or get on the plane and how quickly that changed. Staying an extra night in Nairobi would have sucked because it would have only prolonged this... I don't know when or how I'm going to begin processing everything. Right now I don't feel like crying, but I'm also refusing my thoughts from wandering too far and thinking about the reality that I'm no longer in Africa. That thought only makes me feel empty... I look at my hands and realize they won't have beautiful little hands in them anymore. My lap won't be anyone's favorite place to sit anymore. My arms won't hold or play with someone anymore. And my lips won't be kissing anymore foreheads and cheeks goodnight. Empty."
The Ugandan airport was an awful experience. I needed a bathroom ASAP, but we needed to check-in first. After weighing our bags, the man told us they were overweight, and we owed him $120. I was in no condition to negotiate, so I handed over $200. He told me he would have to go to the office to get change, but to just go ahead to our gate and he would bring it. Obviously that wasn't going to happen, so we sat there and waited. When I started crying because I wasn't feeling good, Kristin went to talk to him again and ended up just getting yelled at. Finally he came with our change and told us we were going to miss our plane if we didn't hurry. The whole plane ride I kept focusing on getting to Kenya. That was my only priority. I don't know how to explain what happened after that. Once we landed, I felt so much better. We went to the doctor anyways just to make sure, and I was surprised to walk in and find a white British woman. Kristin explained where we had been and what symptoms I was having. She gave the doctor the medicine I had been taking too. The doctor didn't know some of the pills I had been taking, but apparently I was taking pills for every possible condition. She prescribed me different medicine, and I was relieved that Posey, the nurse at IAA, was with me to explain everything and talk with the doctor.
We got settled into our room that evening and played with the kids. Everything was so different for us. We were no longer the only white people around, and having electricity and running water consistently took some getting use to.
I didn't write daily in Kenya, but now that you're caught up on the transition, here are my journal entries from Kenya:
Sunday, July 17: "IAA is a completely different world. It's way more overwhelming even though there are less kids. Since I've been so sick, I haven't had time to miss the kids- even Benita. I dreamt about them last night though. It doesn't feel like we left at all... I now understand Sara's love for Joy a lot better... It's the only purpose I've found here... Joy is so funny and silly that I find myself laughing all day when I imagined I'd be crying. She would be the one to cheer me up... Last night the power went out, and Joy sat on the floor by herself in front of the mirror and danced for 20 minutes... She loves playing ring-around-the-rosie and flying on my feet... For awhile, she laid on me the way Benita did. It made me miss her."
Monday, July 18: "It feels like I'm just prolonging- possibly worsening- the pain I'm going to endure. Today I just wanted to go and get it over with... Plus everyday I fall a little more in love with Joy and that will only be one more kid to miss and cry over... I've been so scared of leaving and now some kind of courage has swept over me, and I'm ready to face it. Maybe it's more of defeat. I still don't know how I'm going to do this, but I know I have no choice. In one week, I face a new reality, and as much as I kick and scream, it's going to happen."
Thursday, July 21: "Tomorrow morning we leave for safari. I'm not excited at all. I'm not sure why. Everyone says it's so amazing. I guess to me the safari means it's over. I leave as soon as we get back, and as much as I'm ready to get it over with, I want to stay... I had another great day with Joy- I'm beginning to think anything other than a great day is impossible if I'm with her... It was just Kristin, Kelly, and I for the afternoon, so we decided to take Joy, Jacob, and Hope upstairs to watch Lion King. When I set Joy down, I realized how awful she smelled, so we went back downstairs for a diaper change. She had poop all the way up her back... I grabbed her and headed for the shower, but I couldn't get it to work. My only other option was upstairs, so Joy followed me up there in her diaper. She was excited every time I took her upstairs today. I quickly took off my cardigan, rolled up my pants, and her and I jumped in the shower... Joy made me laugh most of the day. She just does the funniest things... I know how stupid it is of me for falling in love with her. I had no intentions of falling in love at all in Kenya."
Sunday, July 24: "I'm scared- terrified even. The thought of leaving puts knots in my stomach... I'm not ready. Whatever courage I had has been pulled out from under my feet... In less than 24 hours, what I've been dreading for months will become a reality that I'll have no choice but facing... I was afraid that since I was gone for two days she might have already forgotten me but instead she stuck to me like glue until I put her to sleep. We played all day long, nonstop... This is going to hurt, and I knew it from the start. The worst part is forgetting. The memories will be set into my mind like stone. I will remember Benita and Joy, but as a picture or video I look at a thousand times. The sound of their laughs will fade. The way I can easily imagine their movement will disappear. I'll always remember, but I'll always forget."
Tuesday, July 26: "I'm in the London airport, and to my surprise, I'm relatively calm. I'm not sure how I got to this point... Joy wouldn't let me put her down, but thankfully April (the intern) got there, and I knew Joy would go to her. I think as soon as I started carrying my bags downstairs Joy figured out I was leaving. When her and I sat down, she turned, wrapped her arms around my neck, and just hugged me. Everyone was outside to say goodbye, and I was doing good until I hugged Kristin, and she started crying. When I got in the van, I couldn't take my eyes off of them... I barely said a word during the drive. Talking about silly things didn't seem to matter. I just stared out the window thinking... I fought back tears the whole time- they only won once...I realized it was neither when I got to the airport and was told I didn't have a seat on the plane. My heart raced, and my new focus quickly became getting to London. It's funny how badly I didn't want to leave or get on the plane and how quickly that changed. Staying an extra night in Nairobi would have sucked because it would have only prolonged this... I don't know when or how I'm going to begin processing everything. Right now I don't feel like crying, but I'm also refusing my thoughts from wandering too far and thinking about the reality that I'm no longer in Africa. That thought only makes me feel empty... I look at my hands and realize they won't have beautiful little hands in them anymore. My lap won't be anyone's favorite place to sit anymore. My arms won't hold or play with someone anymore. And my lips won't be kissing anymore foreheads and cheeks goodnight. Empty."
Sunday, July 31, 2011
My Heart is Bent: Part Three
Saturday, July 2: "It has been such a long day. Benita woke us up around 7:45. Soon Kenia was also at the window. If they hadn't come, we probably wouldn't have gotten up for Visitation Day... We walked over to the dorm and helped the girls get ready- putting on shoes and underwear and tying dresses. We went to the gate where all the kids were waiting for their parents and buying pancakes and juice. We bought some for the little ones... After awhile, different classes came out to perform. They were so cute... After the baby class went, Patrick, Kristin, and I left to go to the Visitation Day at the secondary school where they've sent three girls... I loved the school and feel very good about the girls getting sent there after Bright Hope... When we pulled into the gate, Benita was waiting with her mom and Paul. Apparently she talked to her mom about me. She told her mom she had a muzungo and made her mom wait for me to get back before she could leave... She thanked me for loving her daughter so much... I took Benita to the soccer field where there was a huge game of staff vs. students. The parents and kids were gathered around shouting and cheering. I loved it... Now we're getting ready for bed and packing for Kampala. I explained to Benita where we were going and why. She told me 'See you Monday' and that she loved me so much."
Wednesday, July 6: "One of the best parts of today was our trip to the village. As we got in sight, Sachi and Brian ran down the road. Sachi ran into Kristin's arms and Brian into mine. Best greeting ever. The other little boy I love, Sadam, played in my lap and held my hand everywhere we went. Every time we go to the village I leave happier... We talked to some older girls about us leaving next week. They all said they will cry a lot and that if they missed us for two days while we were in Kampala, then saying goodbye will be even harder. I don't think they have any idea how much this will hurt us."
Saturday, July 9: "Today was amazing. We woke up to chapati for breakfast- thanks to Patrick. Then we headed to the ostrich farm, and I drove the whole way. I'm getting better every time... When we got back, I found Benita sitting on the porch of the office, so I jumped out of the car to get her. She was sick today with stomachache. I took her to our room to give her Tums and good water. I could tell it was bad because all she would do is lay on me... We threw the kids a party during the evening. First we gave them cookies, juice, and a glow bracelet. Then we taught them the nerdiest dance moves... Then it was time for the pillow fight... Those pillows hurt... I feel closer to the kids and staff after today... I tucked Benita into bed- she now tells me she loves me instead of whining. About 15 minutes later, Patrick had finished setting up the electricity and TV in the church for a movie... I went to Benita's bed to see if she was awake only to find it empty. I started to walk back, and she came to me trying to put her dress on. I quickly dressed her, found her shoes, and threw her on my back... Paul found me and Benita to sit with. He's quickly becoming like my brother. I love him so much. He told me that neither him nor Benita had ever seen a movie. Benita only lasted about 10 minutes before falling asleep in my lap... I realized tonight that I don't trust You with her. I also realized that I will never be at peace until I do."
Monday, July 11: "I can't leave. I can't just drive away. I can't say goodbye... Benita is very very sick... After the village, Benita slept on me most of yesterday. She threw up too. I took her to see Austin and the nurse. She has malaria and worms. While she slept on my lap, she would start shivering, and nothing I could do would make her any warmer. She hasn't been eating- but tonight she finally ate all her matoke. I had to wake her up to bathe, and she begged me not to. She cried and shook while they bathed her. This morning I found her alone with her head down in her classroom. I carried her to the clinic for medicine. Her lips are now covered with sores. Austin said that is a sight of the malaria being severe which makes me so nervous."
Tuesday, July 12: "One of the reasons I'm so adamant about writing everyday is to remember. I don't want to forget, but I know that no matter how much I write, words will never be enough. Writing about my day won't let me relive it. Words won't be able to describe the feeling of being here. Words won't let me remember what it feels like holding Benita's hand or the sound of Sadam's laugh... I'm scared of forgetting, of only keeping certain memories, of forgetting the little things. Each moment has become so much more precious... The rest of the afternoon basically was laying on the porch. Benita and I fell asleep for awhile until she woke up crying and throwing a fit. I took her to the toilet, and she definitely has worms... I took her to the clinic three times today. The nurse asked if she was my best friend- I was proud to say yes... I look at her and feel pain. I can't believe tomorrow is my last day with her. I can't say goodbye to her. I tell her how much I love her at least every hour. Still isn't enough."
Wednesday, July 6: "One of the best parts of today was our trip to the village. As we got in sight, Sachi and Brian ran down the road. Sachi ran into Kristin's arms and Brian into mine. Best greeting ever. The other little boy I love, Sadam, played in my lap and held my hand everywhere we went. Every time we go to the village I leave happier... We talked to some older girls about us leaving next week. They all said they will cry a lot and that if they missed us for two days while we were in Kampala, then saying goodbye will be even harder. I don't think they have any idea how much this will hurt us."
Saturday, July 9: "Today was amazing. We woke up to chapati for breakfast- thanks to Patrick. Then we headed to the ostrich farm, and I drove the whole way. I'm getting better every time... When we got back, I found Benita sitting on the porch of the office, so I jumped out of the car to get her. She was sick today with stomachache. I took her to our room to give her Tums and good water. I could tell it was bad because all she would do is lay on me... We threw the kids a party during the evening. First we gave them cookies, juice, and a glow bracelet. Then we taught them the nerdiest dance moves... Then it was time for the pillow fight... Those pillows hurt... I feel closer to the kids and staff after today... I tucked Benita into bed- she now tells me she loves me instead of whining. About 15 minutes later, Patrick had finished setting up the electricity and TV in the church for a movie... I went to Benita's bed to see if she was awake only to find it empty. I started to walk back, and she came to me trying to put her dress on. I quickly dressed her, found her shoes, and threw her on my back... Paul found me and Benita to sit with. He's quickly becoming like my brother. I love him so much. He told me that neither him nor Benita had ever seen a movie. Benita only lasted about 10 minutes before falling asleep in my lap... I realized tonight that I don't trust You with her. I also realized that I will never be at peace until I do."
Monday, July 11: "I can't leave. I can't just drive away. I can't say goodbye... Benita is very very sick... After the village, Benita slept on me most of yesterday. She threw up too. I took her to see Austin and the nurse. She has malaria and worms. While she slept on my lap, she would start shivering, and nothing I could do would make her any warmer. She hasn't been eating- but tonight she finally ate all her matoke. I had to wake her up to bathe, and she begged me not to. She cried and shook while they bathed her. This morning I found her alone with her head down in her classroom. I carried her to the clinic for medicine. Her lips are now covered with sores. Austin said that is a sight of the malaria being severe which makes me so nervous."
Tuesday, July 12: "One of the reasons I'm so adamant about writing everyday is to remember. I don't want to forget, but I know that no matter how much I write, words will never be enough. Writing about my day won't let me relive it. Words won't be able to describe the feeling of being here. Words won't let me remember what it feels like holding Benita's hand or the sound of Sadam's laugh... I'm scared of forgetting, of only keeping certain memories, of forgetting the little things. Each moment has become so much more precious... The rest of the afternoon basically was laying on the porch. Benita and I fell asleep for awhile until she woke up crying and throwing a fit. I took her to the toilet, and she definitely has worms... I took her to the clinic three times today. The nurse asked if she was my best friend- I was proud to say yes... I look at her and feel pain. I can't believe tomorrow is my last day with her. I can't say goodbye to her. I tell her how much I love her at least every hour. Still isn't enough."
My Heart is Bent: Part Two
"But all that I know is I'm breathing. All I can do is keep breathing."
After reading Part One, I hope you can see how quickly our trip changed after getting back from Kampala. By this point, Kristin and I were beginning to discuss and look into changing our flights to Kenya. Our original schedule had us in Uganda for six weeks, and I would be in Kenya for three weeks. Because of the situations we were finding ourselves in, we didn't know if leaving in less than two weeks would be beneficial. Also at this point, we began having regular meetings with the assistant director, Patrick, and were beginning to work on a project for HCCP. Pastor Fred was still recovering very slowly, and we weren't getting the most accurate updates on his condition. The main financial account for HCCP was unable to be accessed; therefore, money and food were extremely low, and HCCP was forced into debt to provide food for the kids.
Now that you all are caught up- here's Part Two of journal entries:
Thursday, June 23: "So much happened today. The meeting with Patrick went well. He spoke with the Uganda board about the program, and they support it and want someone to move here... The bank should allow them to take out money by Monday. Otherwise, we plan to loan them money for food... We also took showers which makes this experience a hundred times easier... They all didn't end up eating until 9pm. While we waited, Benita laid on my legs and would play with my hair and whisper to me. After they ate, I took her to the toilet and put her to bed. Nayebale even let me tuck her in tonight."
Friday, June 24: "During our bubble session (in the village), Nabo showed up which was a surprise because boarders aren't allowed to leave the site. She said she got permission to go home for a wedding and invited us to go meet her family. She lives close, so we figured an adventure would be good. When we started walking, she purposefully went between us to hold our hands... He (Nabo's father) went and picked a bunch of avocados for us. It's so humbling to receive a gift like that because it is so valuable and important to them. It's so much more precious than going to the store to buy someone a toy or clothes... I just laid on the porch and let Benita crawl all over me and play. She was in an amazing mood. Today was probably the best day I've had with her. She gave me kisses-basically just puts her lips on me, whispered secrets to me, sang, danced, and told me she loved me."
Sunday, June 26: "Back to I can't do this... I can't leave, but it's killing me to stay... I want to cry. I want to cry until I can't anymore, but I won't let myself. Watching the cook cane the girls today felt like I was watching a movie. Adrenaline began pumping through my veins along with anger. Kristin got to the girls' dorm before me and yelled at him to stop. When I got there- with Benita running after me, girls were crying on the side of the house. Some were knelt down against the building crying as they waited their turn to get caned. The rest were in line waiting for their class to get called... The cook was furious. Some of the girls were begging him to just cane them, so it wouldn't be worse for them later. Others were mad at us and glaring... I started to cry, but told myself now wasn't the time... He (Austin- another assistant director who had just gotten into a motorcycle accident two days earlier) called the cook over to him and began lecturing him... He wanted to have a meeting with those girls (the ones who were caned) and the cooking staff. On the way, he told me that caning is forbidden, and staff get fired for it... Austin made him kneel before each girl and ask for forgiveness- even to us... I just keep picturing him hitting them. It was horrifying to watch... Then Austin wanted to go to work in the clinic because apparently the nurse left... As soon as we got there, a girl came in with a huge gash on the back of her head. I got nauseous a few times. Austin couldn't work for very long without breaks. I carried him back and forth between rooms to get medicine. I even helped with nursing a bit. After two or three hours, we were finally able to leave. We didn't get far before Austin told me he needed to stop and squat down which ended up being sitting down. His head was aching, and he started crying. He pressed my hands to his temple as hard as he could. I was using all the muscles in my arms to squeeze his head, but it wasn't hard enough. My arms were aching. I told Kristin to find a wet shirt or some kind of fabric. Once I put that on his head, the headache faded away, and we were able to walk home."
Monday, June 27: "It's funny how vastly different days can be here. Yesterday was awful, and today was great... We laid down for an hour and sure enough at 2pm there was a knock on our door and giggling outside. I could instantly tell by her laugh that it was Benita. She was trying to pull herself up to see into the window... Soon Kenia and Favour were over to play too... Patrick called and told us they finally gained access to the account. That took off so much pressure. By the end of the day, we felt successful and ready for two and a half more weeks. We've finally decided to stay. We fly to Nairobi on July 15th now... Today I feel good and happy. We would have regretted going to Kenya in a week. It's just too soon. I know these next few weeks will be so worth it."
Tuesday, June 28: "Benita would stand in front of me and lean into my legs while I worked. She was so good, and I loved just having her near me all day. After pictures, she began saying, 'Auntie eats'- aka she wanted food. We took them to our room and fed them avocados. Benita got pouty when it was time to leave, and I realized she might not understand when we leave. I imagined her knocking on our window and us never answering until eventually she gives up knocking everyday and forgets. That image kills me. She might forget me... Funny how my world will never be the same because of the love I have for her. I doubt there will be many days when I don't think about her at least once. But her life will go on. There will be other 'me's' in her life who will love her, and in a year or two will be pushed out of her mind. She'll grow and forget. I can never squeeze her enough or tell her just how much I love her. She'll still probably forget... I have an amazing family. They aren't perfect- neither am I- and I love them the same."
Wednesday, June 29: "When it was time for lunch, I took Mikey to our room to get him Neosporin and shoes. Yesterday I gave him my sandals, but he can't wear them to school, so today I gave him my Converse and a pair of socks. They fit him perfectly... He was also the first to teach me some Luganda... I'm glad my shoes went to him. He lives alone with his dad and takes care of himself... We packed a backpack full of clothes, got the soccer ball, and walked to the village... Then I lined up the kids, sat on the porch, and started giving out clothes. There were all so excited and happy. Most of them went and changed into their new clothes right away."
Thursday, June 30: "Nothing will compare. Nothing will be as green and beautiful as the hills surrounding me. Nothing will be as precious as receiving a mango from a boy without shoes. Nothing will be as perfect as holding a child I love in my arms while she rests her head on my shoulders. I will surely crave Africa. It's like our food situation. The food here is fine- even good, but I can't stop craving American food. I eat plenty of food, but I'm never satisfied because it's not what I crave. I've tasted delicious American food, and now it's been taken away and I want it. Same with Africa. Nothing will be able to fulfill the longings of being here... I headed towards the church and heard Benita yell 'Auntie Manda' behind me. I turned around and held out my arms, and she started running. I grabbed her, and she rested her head on my shoulder. We played on the swings, on the porch, and in the grass. I put up her mosquito net after she bathed... Right as I was about to shower, I found a snake outside our room. Then Patrick pulled up in the truck. He panicked and ran to get someone to kill it. It wasn't that big, and I was ready to catch it but knew I couldn't. Patrick came back and threw a brick at it and missed, so I hit it. Once we finally killed it, four men came with giant sticks ready for battle."
Friday, July 1: "Even though I think about going home and what it will be like, I can't imagine my days being any other way then how they are here. I can't imagine seeing other white people or seeing cars all the time. I can't imagine not seeing the kids anymore. I can't imagine life being so easy and simple like having running water and electricity whenever I want or going to one store and buying everything I need. This life has become normal to me... After about an hour or two of thinking, I was about to fall asleep when I saw little hands grip the bars on our window. I took out my iPod and could hear giggling. Deep down I was so happy Benita was at our window. I played and talked to her at the window for awhile. Then I opened the door, and she came and laid on my lap... Patrick got back from wherever he was- with cookies- and agreed to help us set up Katherine's and Ruth's new bed... Ruth and Katherine were really happy when we explained it was for them. Joan is sleeping on the middle bed, and Gift is on the top. Later in the afternoon, I walked over to Gift and Shamiat, and Gift said, 'Aunt, I am so happy.' I asked her why, and she told me, 'Because you have given me a place to sleep.' Wow. I didn't realize how much it meant until that moment."
After reading Part One, I hope you can see how quickly our trip changed after getting back from Kampala. By this point, Kristin and I were beginning to discuss and look into changing our flights to Kenya. Our original schedule had us in Uganda for six weeks, and I would be in Kenya for three weeks. Because of the situations we were finding ourselves in, we didn't know if leaving in less than two weeks would be beneficial. Also at this point, we began having regular meetings with the assistant director, Patrick, and were beginning to work on a project for HCCP. Pastor Fred was still recovering very slowly, and we weren't getting the most accurate updates on his condition. The main financial account for HCCP was unable to be accessed; therefore, money and food were extremely low, and HCCP was forced into debt to provide food for the kids.
Now that you all are caught up- here's Part Two of journal entries:
Thursday, June 23: "So much happened today. The meeting with Patrick went well. He spoke with the Uganda board about the program, and they support it and want someone to move here... The bank should allow them to take out money by Monday. Otherwise, we plan to loan them money for food... We also took showers which makes this experience a hundred times easier... They all didn't end up eating until 9pm. While we waited, Benita laid on my legs and would play with my hair and whisper to me. After they ate, I took her to the toilet and put her to bed. Nayebale even let me tuck her in tonight."
Friday, June 24: "During our bubble session (in the village), Nabo showed up which was a surprise because boarders aren't allowed to leave the site. She said she got permission to go home for a wedding and invited us to go meet her family. She lives close, so we figured an adventure would be good. When we started walking, she purposefully went between us to hold our hands... He (Nabo's father) went and picked a bunch of avocados for us. It's so humbling to receive a gift like that because it is so valuable and important to them. It's so much more precious than going to the store to buy someone a toy or clothes... I just laid on the porch and let Benita crawl all over me and play. She was in an amazing mood. Today was probably the best day I've had with her. She gave me kisses-basically just puts her lips on me, whispered secrets to me, sang, danced, and told me she loved me."
Sunday, June 26: "Back to I can't do this... I can't leave, but it's killing me to stay... I want to cry. I want to cry until I can't anymore, but I won't let myself. Watching the cook cane the girls today felt like I was watching a movie. Adrenaline began pumping through my veins along with anger. Kristin got to the girls' dorm before me and yelled at him to stop. When I got there- with Benita running after me, girls were crying on the side of the house. Some were knelt down against the building crying as they waited their turn to get caned. The rest were in line waiting for their class to get called... The cook was furious. Some of the girls were begging him to just cane them, so it wouldn't be worse for them later. Others were mad at us and glaring... I started to cry, but told myself now wasn't the time... He (Austin- another assistant director who had just gotten into a motorcycle accident two days earlier) called the cook over to him and began lecturing him... He wanted to have a meeting with those girls (the ones who were caned) and the cooking staff. On the way, he told me that caning is forbidden, and staff get fired for it... Austin made him kneel before each girl and ask for forgiveness- even to us... I just keep picturing him hitting them. It was horrifying to watch... Then Austin wanted to go to work in the clinic because apparently the nurse left... As soon as we got there, a girl came in with a huge gash on the back of her head. I got nauseous a few times. Austin couldn't work for very long without breaks. I carried him back and forth between rooms to get medicine. I even helped with nursing a bit. After two or three hours, we were finally able to leave. We didn't get far before Austin told me he needed to stop and squat down which ended up being sitting down. His head was aching, and he started crying. He pressed my hands to his temple as hard as he could. I was using all the muscles in my arms to squeeze his head, but it wasn't hard enough. My arms were aching. I told Kristin to find a wet shirt or some kind of fabric. Once I put that on his head, the headache faded away, and we were able to walk home."
Monday, June 27: "It's funny how vastly different days can be here. Yesterday was awful, and today was great... We laid down for an hour and sure enough at 2pm there was a knock on our door and giggling outside. I could instantly tell by her laugh that it was Benita. She was trying to pull herself up to see into the window... Soon Kenia and Favour were over to play too... Patrick called and told us they finally gained access to the account. That took off so much pressure. By the end of the day, we felt successful and ready for two and a half more weeks. We've finally decided to stay. We fly to Nairobi on July 15th now... Today I feel good and happy. We would have regretted going to Kenya in a week. It's just too soon. I know these next few weeks will be so worth it."
Tuesday, June 28: "Benita would stand in front of me and lean into my legs while I worked. She was so good, and I loved just having her near me all day. After pictures, she began saying, 'Auntie eats'- aka she wanted food. We took them to our room and fed them avocados. Benita got pouty when it was time to leave, and I realized she might not understand when we leave. I imagined her knocking on our window and us never answering until eventually she gives up knocking everyday and forgets. That image kills me. She might forget me... Funny how my world will never be the same because of the love I have for her. I doubt there will be many days when I don't think about her at least once. But her life will go on. There will be other 'me's' in her life who will love her, and in a year or two will be pushed out of her mind. She'll grow and forget. I can never squeeze her enough or tell her just how much I love her. She'll still probably forget... I have an amazing family. They aren't perfect- neither am I- and I love them the same."
Wednesday, June 29: "When it was time for lunch, I took Mikey to our room to get him Neosporin and shoes. Yesterday I gave him my sandals, but he can't wear them to school, so today I gave him my Converse and a pair of socks. They fit him perfectly... He was also the first to teach me some Luganda... I'm glad my shoes went to him. He lives alone with his dad and takes care of himself... We packed a backpack full of clothes, got the soccer ball, and walked to the village... Then I lined up the kids, sat on the porch, and started giving out clothes. There were all so excited and happy. Most of them went and changed into their new clothes right away."
Thursday, June 30: "Nothing will compare. Nothing will be as green and beautiful as the hills surrounding me. Nothing will be as precious as receiving a mango from a boy without shoes. Nothing will be as perfect as holding a child I love in my arms while she rests her head on my shoulders. I will surely crave Africa. It's like our food situation. The food here is fine- even good, but I can't stop craving American food. I eat plenty of food, but I'm never satisfied because it's not what I crave. I've tasted delicious American food, and now it's been taken away and I want it. Same with Africa. Nothing will be able to fulfill the longings of being here... I headed towards the church and heard Benita yell 'Auntie Manda' behind me. I turned around and held out my arms, and she started running. I grabbed her, and she rested her head on my shoulder. We played on the swings, on the porch, and in the grass. I put up her mosquito net after she bathed... Right as I was about to shower, I found a snake outside our room. Then Patrick pulled up in the truck. He panicked and ran to get someone to kill it. It wasn't that big, and I was ready to catch it but knew I couldn't. Patrick came back and threw a brick at it and missed, so I hit it. Once we finally killed it, four men came with giant sticks ready for battle."
Friday, July 1: "Even though I think about going home and what it will be like, I can't imagine my days being any other way then how they are here. I can't imagine seeing other white people or seeing cars all the time. I can't imagine not seeing the kids anymore. I can't imagine life being so easy and simple like having running water and electricity whenever I want or going to one store and buying everything I need. This life has become normal to me... After about an hour or two of thinking, I was about to fall asleep when I saw little hands grip the bars on our window. I took out my iPod and could hear giggling. Deep down I was so happy Benita was at our window. I played and talked to her at the window for awhile. Then I opened the door, and she came and laid on my lap... Patrick got back from wherever he was- with cookies- and agreed to help us set up Katherine's and Ruth's new bed... Ruth and Katherine were really happy when we explained it was for them. Joan is sleeping on the middle bed, and Gift is on the top. Later in the afternoon, I walked over to Gift and Shamiat, and Gift said, 'Aunt, I am so happy.' I asked her why, and she told me, 'Because you have given me a place to sleep.' Wow. I didn't realize how much it meant until that moment."
Friday, July 29, 2011
My Heart is Bent: Part One
"Hearts bend when they can't break cause they can't take all that is given to them."
Where to begin... after the most unforgettable nine weeks of my life, I am now back in the states. Two days after my last blog post, we lost internet. Summing up my experience into words just wouldn't be enough- plus I'm at a loss for the right words- so I've decided to share some of my journal entries with you. Since it's been so long and so much has happened, I'll be posting this over the next few days in parts.
A little pre-explanation: these entries are my personal thoughts and feelings at that specific moment in time- some thoughts and feelings have changed since then. Also, I write to God. So if you see a "You" or "Your" or anything like that, I'm referring to God. I also plan on leaving some things out (I would have to write a book to fit it all in), so when you see "..." that is my indication that I skipped over some things, but I am still on the entry from the same day.
Wednesday, June 8: "I've been to Hell. I realized this as I sat next to Charles in the grass with the sound of children screaming all around me. Charles is dying slowly from HIV. He is malnourished, and the doctors were mentioning internal bleeding. He could barely walk or stand. He would collapse when he'd get too tired. His eyes constantly rolled in the back of his head... I carried Charles to the ward. He was moaning in pain, and I was scared to hold him too tight... I held back tears most of today, and I really just want to call home. I'm overwhelmed with grief. Charles is 12. I wonder if he knows he is dying... Please heal Charles. Please take away his pain and misery. God, be with him tonight. Let him rest. When he eats and drinks, I pray he doesn't vomit. He needs the nourishment. Please help him. Save him."
Thursday, June 9: "All of this has been hard to process. I feel overwhelmed to the point of being numb. Sometimes I want to cry, and others I don't feel anything... Why is this the life You've chosen for them? Why are some living in Hell while others walk in bliss? I don't understand."
Friday, June 10: "The most beautiful, pure worship is every night on the floor in this small, dark room... No camera or videos will ever be able to capture its fullness. With all the lights out, I can make out their faces. Most have their eyes closed. Some sway. Others raise their hands. They lean on each other. Younger girls will sit with the older girls. They pray out loud in whispers. Tonight I watched one girl pray with both arms lifted to You. This pure, innocent worship isn't found in a church. It's found on a dirty floor in the dark. I can't imagine it any other way."
Monday, June 13: "Something was made right in the world today. That's what I thought as I sat in the back of the truck and watched Ruth through the window." (Ruth is a 4 year old girl who was taken away from HCCP by her abusive father. We went with Patrick to go get her back. Her mother was very thankful that Ruth would be safe and back at school.) "We went to have chips for lunch, and Patrick came in to tell us Fred had gotten in a car accident. It seemed serious. Patrick left for Kampala to see him in the hospital. Last we heard, he couldn't speak and had his head bandaged up."
Tuesday, June 14: "Pastor Fred isn't doing well. We just found out blood has been going to his brain. I'm beginning to get worried. I don't understand Your ways at all... Please heal Pastor Fred. These kids need him and this place. I pray that he receives a full recovery. I love You, and I'm trusting that You are good."
Wednesday, June 15: "Patrick was very overwhelmed. He told us that Charles was recovering and that he was leaving to go to town because the kids and chickens were out of food. Right before he was about to leave, his phone rang, and it was the nurse. Charles died... It's hard for me to see You here when I look at the big picture. Everything seems to be falling apart, but then I see the small things that are wrapped in Your love and grace. I feel shocked, overwhelmed, alone, distant, unsure, confused- I don't have any idea why we are here during this time or what's next but please surround me."
Thursday, June 16: "Around four, we started the walk to Charles' burial. I'm having a hard time putting it into words, but I know I need to. When we got to the house, the matrons and Austin's wife told us to come and see him. Once I started walking, I understood we were going to see Charles. As we crossed the yard, I could feel everyone watching us. We removed our shoes and followed the matrons inside. The room was crowded with women crying on the floor. On the left wall, Charles was lying on a mat covered with a blanket. His stepmom was sitting next to his head. Kristin and I knelt down beside him. I was next to his stepmom who was now weeping uncontrollably and saying things to me in Luganda. I put my hand on her knee and started crying with her. After she said some things, she pulled back the sheet to show us the body. He looked peaceful compared to the Charles I kept seeing in agony in the hospital... We left the house weeping, and as I walked out, I could now see all the faces staring at me- especially all the students... I can't describe how horrifying and awful it was to hear that dirt pounding as it hit the coffin... All I could ask while I held Pheonah's hand and watched them lower the coffin into the ground was- where are You?"
Saturday, June 18: "When we walked to the girls' dorm tonight, we saw about nine girls outside kneeling- most were younger. We asked what was going on, and they said the matron had sent them outside for shouting and told them to wait for the night guard... Finally the night guard came. He spoke to one of the older girls and then told us they had misbehaved. I could tell he didn't know what to do, so he handed me his cane and pointed to the girls. I told him no. He took the cane and demonstrated how I should hit them, but I kept saying no. He left upset. A few minutes later (he talked with the matron), he came back and told the girls to go inside. I took Benita to bed, and she started whining again. I rubbed her back till she fell asleep... What can I do? I have no power. You brought me here. All year I kept feeling like You were going to something big this summer, but this is so much bigger than I ever imagined. I don't know what You want me to do. These problems seem so much bigger than me. Things I can't fix."
Wednesday, June 22: "We couldn't finish all the food, so we decided to spoil Benita and Kenia. When I found Benita in the girls' dorm, she grabbed my hands, pulled me away from everyone, pulled me really close, and started dancing. It was the best greeting she could have given me. She didn't whine for me to hold her at all. Instead she held my hand and let me lead her to the kitchen. Nayebale followed, but we didn't mind. We gave them all rice and beans, and they loved it. I think Benita ended up having 3 helpings."
Where to begin... after the most unforgettable nine weeks of my life, I am now back in the states. Two days after my last blog post, we lost internet. Summing up my experience into words just wouldn't be enough- plus I'm at a loss for the right words- so I've decided to share some of my journal entries with you. Since it's been so long and so much has happened, I'll be posting this over the next few days in parts.
A little pre-explanation: these entries are my personal thoughts and feelings at that specific moment in time- some thoughts and feelings have changed since then. Also, I write to God. So if you see a "You" or "Your" or anything like that, I'm referring to God. I also plan on leaving some things out (I would have to write a book to fit it all in), so when you see "..." that is my indication that I skipped over some things, but I am still on the entry from the same day.
Wednesday, June 8: "I've been to Hell. I realized this as I sat next to Charles in the grass with the sound of children screaming all around me. Charles is dying slowly from HIV. He is malnourished, and the doctors were mentioning internal bleeding. He could barely walk or stand. He would collapse when he'd get too tired. His eyes constantly rolled in the back of his head... I carried Charles to the ward. He was moaning in pain, and I was scared to hold him too tight... I held back tears most of today, and I really just want to call home. I'm overwhelmed with grief. Charles is 12. I wonder if he knows he is dying... Please heal Charles. Please take away his pain and misery. God, be with him tonight. Let him rest. When he eats and drinks, I pray he doesn't vomit. He needs the nourishment. Please help him. Save him."
Thursday, June 9: "All of this has been hard to process. I feel overwhelmed to the point of being numb. Sometimes I want to cry, and others I don't feel anything... Why is this the life You've chosen for them? Why are some living in Hell while others walk in bliss? I don't understand."
Friday, June 10: "The most beautiful, pure worship is every night on the floor in this small, dark room... No camera or videos will ever be able to capture its fullness. With all the lights out, I can make out their faces. Most have their eyes closed. Some sway. Others raise their hands. They lean on each other. Younger girls will sit with the older girls. They pray out loud in whispers. Tonight I watched one girl pray with both arms lifted to You. This pure, innocent worship isn't found in a church. It's found on a dirty floor in the dark. I can't imagine it any other way."
Monday, June 13: "Something was made right in the world today. That's what I thought as I sat in the back of the truck and watched Ruth through the window." (Ruth is a 4 year old girl who was taken away from HCCP by her abusive father. We went with Patrick to go get her back. Her mother was very thankful that Ruth would be safe and back at school.) "We went to have chips for lunch, and Patrick came in to tell us Fred had gotten in a car accident. It seemed serious. Patrick left for Kampala to see him in the hospital. Last we heard, he couldn't speak and had his head bandaged up."
Tuesday, June 14: "Pastor Fred isn't doing well. We just found out blood has been going to his brain. I'm beginning to get worried. I don't understand Your ways at all... Please heal Pastor Fred. These kids need him and this place. I pray that he receives a full recovery. I love You, and I'm trusting that You are good."
Wednesday, June 15: "Patrick was very overwhelmed. He told us that Charles was recovering and that he was leaving to go to town because the kids and chickens were out of food. Right before he was about to leave, his phone rang, and it was the nurse. Charles died... It's hard for me to see You here when I look at the big picture. Everything seems to be falling apart, but then I see the small things that are wrapped in Your love and grace. I feel shocked, overwhelmed, alone, distant, unsure, confused- I don't have any idea why we are here during this time or what's next but please surround me."
Thursday, June 16: "Around four, we started the walk to Charles' burial. I'm having a hard time putting it into words, but I know I need to. When we got to the house, the matrons and Austin's wife told us to come and see him. Once I started walking, I understood we were going to see Charles. As we crossed the yard, I could feel everyone watching us. We removed our shoes and followed the matrons inside. The room was crowded with women crying on the floor. On the left wall, Charles was lying on a mat covered with a blanket. His stepmom was sitting next to his head. Kristin and I knelt down beside him. I was next to his stepmom who was now weeping uncontrollably and saying things to me in Luganda. I put my hand on her knee and started crying with her. After she said some things, she pulled back the sheet to show us the body. He looked peaceful compared to the Charles I kept seeing in agony in the hospital... We left the house weeping, and as I walked out, I could now see all the faces staring at me- especially all the students... I can't describe how horrifying and awful it was to hear that dirt pounding as it hit the coffin... All I could ask while I held Pheonah's hand and watched them lower the coffin into the ground was- where are You?"
Saturday, June 18: "When we walked to the girls' dorm tonight, we saw about nine girls outside kneeling- most were younger. We asked what was going on, and they said the matron had sent them outside for shouting and told them to wait for the night guard... Finally the night guard came. He spoke to one of the older girls and then told us they had misbehaved. I could tell he didn't know what to do, so he handed me his cane and pointed to the girls. I told him no. He took the cane and demonstrated how I should hit them, but I kept saying no. He left upset. A few minutes later (he talked with the matron), he came back and told the girls to go inside. I took Benita to bed, and she started whining again. I rubbed her back till she fell asleep... What can I do? I have no power. You brought me here. All year I kept feeling like You were going to something big this summer, but this is so much bigger than I ever imagined. I don't know what You want me to do. These problems seem so much bigger than me. Things I can't fix."
Wednesday, June 22: "We couldn't finish all the food, so we decided to spoil Benita and Kenia. When I found Benita in the girls' dorm, she grabbed my hands, pulled me away from everyone, pulled me really close, and started dancing. It was the best greeting she could have given me. She didn't whine for me to hold her at all. Instead she held my hand and let me lead her to the kitchen. Nayebale followed, but we didn't mind. We gave them all rice and beans, and they loved it. I think Benita ended up having 3 helpings."
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