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."

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."

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."

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."

Bus Rides, the Nile, and Chickens

And the adventure continues…

We left the orphanage Sunday morning to head to Kampala. Patrick, the assistant director at HCCP, drove us about an hour to a bus stop. We were a little hesitant about taking public transportation all the way to Kampala but were reassured that we would be safe. Patrick talked to the driver and exchanged numbers with him. He also told us how much to pay, so we wouldn’t get ripped off later. He left, and we began to wait. We sat there on the bus for about an hour waiting for it to be overfilled. The bus held around 20 people, but was packed with around 30 to 40. The aisles turned into seats, and there was no space left unoccupied. I couldn’t help but laugh when a lady boarded with a live chicken. I began the trip sitting (when I say sitting, I mean squished) next to a woman who proceeded to breastfeed. She ended up being able to speak a little English and would try to explain to me why we kept stopping and how the bus driver was being a jerk. After she got off, a large man sat next to me and even fell asleep on me. I couldn’t feel my leg after awhile and could really only move my neck freely. The bus kept stopping to drop off and pick up more passengers. I was beginning to think we’d never get to Kampala. At one point, the bus stopped, and suddenly our window was open and meat on a stick, matoke, and drinks were being shoved at us. Once the vendors realized we were muzungos, our window was quickly surrounded by young men. After saying no to everything they were selling, they began asking our names and for our phone number. Luckily, I didn’t have the window seat. The boys quickly fell in love with Kristin (as usual haha), and one even proposed. He was so serious.

When we finally reached Kampala after the six-hour journey, we had no idea what stop to get off at. Fortunately for us, Fred had been communicating with the driver, so at one point, he pointed to us and said, “Come”. We got off the bus to be greeted by Fred. We were beyond happy to have our own seat in an air-conditioned car. All week we had been looking forward to staying at the hotel that we had stayed at our first night in Uganda. We knew we would get as many showers as we’d like. Fred, however, began telling us that we would be staying at a condo of his priest friend. When we got there, we quickly noticed there was no shower, and since we hadn’t showered for five days and just shared sweat with everyone on the bus, we were a little upset. The night-guard was very nice though and brought us buckets for showering. The condo has been way better than the hotel. It’s like having our own apartment. We have running water, electricity, a kitchen, and even a fridge. Having cold water and soda isn’t something we are use to. Taking the bucket shower was phenomenal. I can’t even begin to explain how nice it felt. My feet are now a few shades lighter after scrubbing the dirt off, and I even got to shave. The kids will be so confused when we get back. They always touch my legs and ask why they are so prickly. The power went out while Kristin was showering which was so funny. The night-guard brought us a flashlight though.

The next morning we woke up at 4:45 to leave for Lira to meet the kids that Kristin and her family sponsor through Compassion. It takes around six hours to get there, so we were only going to get around three in Lira. We were supposed to be picked up by our driver at 5:30, but he ended up being an hour late. The drive there went pretty quick because we slept most of the way. We stopped at a gas station in the middle of no where to use the bathroom, which ended up being a hole in the ground- for toilet paper, we used a leaf. We got to drive over the Nile River, and it was more beautiful than I can describe.

When we got to Lira, our driver got lost. We just kept laughing at the situations we were finding ourselves in. We finally made it to the “project”, which is where Compassion is located. We met the girls and headed to their houses. They were both so shy but really happy. The mother of one of the girls was dressed in her best outfit, hugged us, and kept saying how grateful she was. Her house was just a room in an area that resembled the slums. It was so humbling to be welcomed into her home, and she and the girls kept bowing to us. The girl presented Kristin with a wrapped box, which ended up being mangoes and oranges that I can’t wait to eat. Then we headed to the other girl’s house. It was bigger and in a different area. We met her stepdad and learned that she was conceived out of wedlock and didn’t know her father. The stepdad spoke English pretty well and prayed for us. After the short visit, he said they wanted to give us a chicken. I got really excited because by that point, it was around 2pm, and we hadn’t eaten. I thought they had cooked a meal for us, and we would all eat together. I quickly found out I was wrong though when the three of them got up and began running around in the yard chasing chickens. Kristin and I were laughing so hard. After about five minutes, a neighbor boy finally caught the chicken. They tied its legs and presented it to Kristin. We named him Cluckster. We said goodbye to the girls and headed back to the project for lunch- rice, beans, potatoes, fish, chicken (ironic), and cold Coke.

The drive back was very entertaining with Cluckster. He pooped everywhere, which I made Kristin clean, and kept squawking. We saw two baboons and a smaller monkey on the side of the road near the Nile. We ended up driving at night for about an hour, which was not our intention. It wasn’t bad though. We got back around 8:30pm and unloaded the van. Our driver handed the night-guard (who doesn’t speak English) Cluckster. I asked him if Cluckster could stay in the gated area for the night since we intended on bringing him back to HCCP. He said, “Yes, that’s fine”, which is what everyone usually replies to me. I can ask someone how old they are and that would be the response I’d get. About a half hour later, there is a knock on the door. I open it to find the night-guard holding a knife in one hand and a headless chicken in the other. I started crying out of shock, laughter, and sadness. I frantically searched for a pot to put Cluckster in. The night-guard was so proud to have killed our chicken for us. We left him in the sink, but then we started to get nauseous looking at him. So now, Cluckster is in the pot in our fridge. I have no idea how to cook him nor do I want to. We were so excited to have a pet chicken. Kristin even began training him during the van ride. So much for that.

Today we have the day to rest at the condo and maybe some exploring in Kampala. Who knows what’s next…

“I think my stomach is nauseous because it’s mourning Cluckster’s death.” –Kristin Klein two seconds ago.

I Can't.

“And I’ll find strength in pain.”

This experience has been incredible. Each day there are new joys, pains, frustrations and struggles.

We are now teaching in the school. Our first class wasn’t well behaved at all. They wouldn’t stay quiet and kept fighting. During our break, we were told they take advantage of us being white because they know we won’t beat them, so for our next class we took a stick with us. Obviously we would never use it, but the intimidation factor seemed to work because the class was more behaved. We learned how to say, “I’ll beat you” in Luganda, but every time we try to threaten a kid we just start laughing. I hate seeing the kids get whipped. The younger kids got beat the other day. That was the first time I’ve seen Benita truly cry. Kristin and I do everything we can to make sure the girls don't get beat.

The older kids have been so helpful and sweet to us. Everyday they want to share their poscho and beans with us. We usually decline, but occasionally they talk us into it. They love giving us different things to try and get so proud when we share a meal with them. We took three of the older girls into the guest area away from everyone to make bracelets and color. One of the girls, Florence, was so happy. She acts very tough and serious, but she is really shy and sweet. I can tell she has never gotten much attention from visitors, so this was a big deal for her. She just kept looking at her new bracelet smiling. It’s the most I’ve seen her smile. Since then, she sits with us every night during worship.


The need here is… overwhelming. The well is still broken, and the kids are walking to the river everyday. Most of the village kids walk to school, which can take up to two hours, and most don’t have shoes. Because of miscommunication, there are still kids sleeping on the floor. One of the little girls sleeping on the floor, Ruth, has malaria. She won’t talk or eat much. The other day she was sleeping on my lap and started throwing up. After getting no help from the house-mom, I carried her to the clinic. Yesterday Favour was burning up. Her whole body was hot, and she wouldn’t eat. Benita was having stomach issues, and another girl, Joan, wouldn’t eat because of a toothache or sore in her mouth. Sickness is all around me. The kids take care of themselves. The clinic doesn’t seem to do much, and they are low on medicine. We have been giving the kids the medicine we have like half of a Tylenol for fevers. Last night a girl showed us a third degree burn across her arm. Her skin was hanging off and the clinic just stuck gauze on it. We put Neosporin and bandages on it, and quickly all the kids were showing us their wounds to get medicine. So there we were- sitting on the floor in the dark surrounded by kids who were hurting and wanting to be healed.

I’m quickly learning how incapable I am. Each night we sit with the girls in the dark as they eat and worship together. Then we tuck them in and say goodnight. During worship, they take a moment for prayer. Last night when it was time to pray, Benita scooted closer on my lap and rested her head on my chest. I began praying over her and crying. “Love her- I can’t. Protect her- I can’t. Provide for her- I can’t. Bless her- I can’t. Take care of her- I can’t. Be with her always- I can’t.” I’m learning that I can’t, but to trust that God can. I’m unable to give these kids everything they need and deserve. All I can do it let God use me in any way He sees fit. I’m searching for Him here and continually find Him in the simplest things like a child waving goodbye before their long walk home, the sound of laughter as we play, a child who just wants to sit beside me and hold my hand, and the sharing of a meal together. He is all around me. He can.

So Far...

Under the most magnificent night sky I have ever seen, I cried.

Uganda is beyond beautiful. Words and pictures can’t even begin to describe its beauty. I’m surrounded by luscious green hills and fields, children’s laughter, and bright smiles. Don’t let me fool you though- it’s been quite an adventure. We arrived Wednesday morning into Entebbe where we met Fred, the founder of Hope Care Child Program. He drove us into Kampala and dropped us off at a hotel to rest. That was a surprise. We originally planned on going straight to the orphanage, but we soon learned that surprises were just something to get use to. The hotel was quite the experience. The next morning we left at 6 to make the journey to the orphanage. It was interesting to drive through the different towns and villages. After four hours of driving, Fred told us that there would be no electricity or running water as we turned onto the dirt road towards HCCP.

After dropping off our stuff in our room, we heard the kids playing outside, so we quickly found our rain boots and jackets and went to play. They were shy at first, but then began surrounding us. One little girl, Benita- I’ll probably mention her quite a bit- ran to me and buried her face in my skirt. Since then, it’s hard to say that I’m not in love with her. You can’t help but smile when you look at her even when she pouts. She’ll stand in front of me, hold my hands, and lean back into my legs. She looks me straight in the eyes and speaks to me in Luganda (I’m slowly learning most of what she tells me is silly things like the swing set or the yellow bead she found in the grass). She eats and breaks everything. Today I caught her putting rocks in her mouth, and she even considered trying chalk. She is adorable, and every morning I look forward to seeing her.

When we arrived, Fred told us the well is broken which is where they normally get their water. Since there is no well, that means we cannot shower and the kids must walk a half hour to the river to fetch water. Yesterday Kristin and I decided to walk with the kids and carry a jerry can ourselves. It was extremely hard. The kids run to the river, so they can swim. I didn’t know this and ended up running with them. Once I got there, they begged me to swim, but I used my better judgment (or maybe my mom’s judgment) and declined. After the short swim, they begin the journey back. It was painful. My arms and legs were burning. By the time we reached the orphanage after taking plenty of breaks, we were drenched in sweat and out of breath. Little kids half my size were carrying huge cans on their heads. It amazes me that they do this everyday and how strong they are. Today they asked for us to go with them again, so we did but decided to pass on the jerry cans. However, only a few minutes into the walk back, Kristin and I both had jerry cans in our hands. Neither of us felt right about holding a hand of a nine year old while she struggled to carry this can of water. Today’s walk was a lot easier. I kept thinking about Benita, Ruth, Favour, and other little kids back at HCCP who relied on these older kids to bring water everyday.

Tonight was our first night staying up past seven. We went to sit with the kids on the porch while they had dinner, which is what we do for breakfast and lunch. By this time, it was dark out. We used our headlamps to give them some light, and the house-mom moved the girls inside. They all just sat on the floor in the dark eating poscho and beans. After awhile, I saw Benita get up, leave her bowl on the ground, and go into the other room. She passed by me determined. She came back a few minutes later with a rag in her hands and began cleaning the floor around her- she must have spilled. Tears came to my eyes as I watched this four year old in the middle of a dark room cleaning. I don’t know how to describe it. I tucked her into bed and held her hand until she fell asleep. As I was about to leave, one of the older girls came over, undressed her, and put Sarah next to her. I know that is normal here and not a bad thing at all, but seeing them sleeping curled up naked on this small bed together made me cry. This is where I am. In the middle of the jungle in Uganda- in God’s midst.

Is This Real Life?

Is today's date really May 23rd? It can't be. I've imagined this day for months and months. It's impossible that it's actually here. But yet here I am... sitting in the airport waiting to board a plane. Many people have asked if I'm nervous or excited, and my answer has been no (sometimes naturally I reply yes to the excited question), but truthfully I've felt nothing. I was beginning to think something was wrong with me. I wanted to be giddy with excitement but couldn't. Now as I sit here I'm shaking. I can't believe this is finally happening.

So many things have happened since my last post, so let me give you a brief update. First, let's celebrate because we raised $8,000 to buy beds for the kids in Uganda which surpassed our goal of $7,200! God truly does provide and continues to amaze me. My first year at Point Loma is over, and I'm shocked to say that I am now a senior in college. Weird. "Time flies when you're having fun?" Next year will be so much fun and I'm anxious to see the plans God has for me. Also- let me put any doubts out of your minds... if you have not seen me, yes I did cut my hair. It is now above my shoulders. I donated 11 inches to Locks of Love. It will make this trip to Africa easier, and I am blessed to have hair that can grow back while others don't have hair at all. It's simple. They can have some of mine.

I have amazing family and friends. The support and love I have received the past few days has been phenomenal. I know you all are praying, and I thank you. It means so much to know I have such a great support system back home. Aunt Teri gave me a necklace that says "A family's love is nature's masterpiece." I have been wearing it since Saturday, and I'm continually thinking about you all. I'll miss you.

Here we go. Let the adventures begin. I am as ready as I'll ever be.

"You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you." -Frederick Buechner

You hold my world in Your hands

My mind is a little scattered lately so forgive me if this isn't the most thought-out post. I figured it was time for an update however.

Let's see... last week started off with some ups and downs. Kristin called me at work on Monday to tell me that we had raised over the $4,000 needed to buy beds for the kids in Uganda. I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders, and we were both so excited. About an hour later, she called again, but this time the news wasn't so exciting. We had raised enough to get all the kids off the floor but would need to raise around $7,500 to get each kid their own bed. With 27 days left, I broke down and cried. I hate crying, but I couldn't fight it any longer. And I'll admit, it felt so good to just cry. That night we emailed every professor at school and even some celebrities including Oprah, Ellen, Regis and Kelly, Tyra Banks, and Dr. Phil. We have nothing to lose so why not! My stress level has decreased dramatically since then. I've accepted that we have and are still doing the best we can and have raised a lot of money so far. No matter what, there won't be kids sleeping on the floor without mosquito nets and that was our main goal.

I also bought my plane ticket and got my vaccinations last week. You would think it would hit me a little bit that I leave soon, but nope. Saturday night I finally was overly excited. I was reading a packet from the founder of the Ugandan orphanage, and my heart began racing. I was overjoyed and ready to get on the plane right then. But I still have to finish school. I'm on my last normal week of classes and of course it is extremely nice out when I have so much to do. I don't know what is more shocking: that my first year at Point Loma is already over or that I only have one more year of college left. Time is something I just can't hold onto. For my senior year, I will be living with Kristin in the junior/sophomore dorm called Finch. I will be one of the three Covenant group leaders (basically spiritual/Bible study leader) for the building. I'm really excited for how God is going to teach and use me next year in Finch.

Three weeks from today I board a plane. I still need $1,000 for my trip, and we need about $2,000 for beds. Today I'm not that worried about it which is nice. God is in control. This trip is in His hands. As easy as that is to say, I am learning to truly trust and rely on it. Everything is in His hands, not mine.

"Be still and know that I am God"

Craziness. That's what state my life has entered into. Let's start from the beginning: A week ago I laid on the floor discouraged and slowly losing hope in need of a pep talk. We had 100 shirts to sell and I felt like this process of raising money had been going on forever with our end goal farther out of reach then I had expected. If you haven't seen the calendar recently, let me make you aware that it's already the middle of April. I was shocked. I leave in six weeks! So I laid on the floor feeling like I was in way over my head. I was graciously reminded that I was relying on myself and not God. That I need to trust Him to provide and this is not about what I can do. It definitely wasn't the easiest thing to hear.

I went home this weekend for my cousin Nikki's wedding. The craziness began... and God began to do what I thought was impossible. Friday I made presentations to three high school classes each hour and sold way more shirts than I expected. Then I ran home for an interview with the News Herald. At the end of the interview, I was surprised with the news that the story would be out the next day and was in the running for the front page main story. Wow, another blessing from God. After, I immediately left for a youth group event and was able to talk with the youth pastor about fundraising events and sell a few shirts. The night didn't end as well as it began however. I got a call that my grandma was in the ER and rushed over (mind you this is the night before the wedding). (She is doing much better and thank you for everyone who has been praying for her.) The next morning my body decided it was time to wake up at 7:30am. I checked my phone and had emails from people wanting to buy shirts and I remembered the newspaper article came out that morning. Sure enough, a giant picture of myself was front and center on the News Herald. I'll admit I was a little embarrassed at seeing this picture of myself everywhere and the whole day I felt like people were staring at me. I got ready and made my way to see the bridal party and get my hair and make-up done for the wedding. (At this point, there were clear skies.) I was given my list of behind-the-scenes things to do and then headed over to the hospital to show off my good looks to my grandma before she went into surgery. By this time, I had tons of emails coming in about shirts from the article in the paper and time was no longer going to be on my side. I delivered shirts up to point of being late for my wedding duties. Fortunately for me, the wedding planner was just as busy because a storm decided to show up (this is an outdoor ceremony). The wind picked up and so did the chaos. Tables and speakers were falling over. Vases were breaking, and the chairs were blowing away... this all happened about a half hour before guests were to arrive. But once the bride arrived, the wind halted and the ceremony was a success (in the end they got married and that's what counts). Sunday was another early morning. I had shirts to deliver, people to meet, and churches to attend. A pastor contacted me after reading the paper about making a donation to our cause. He said their church had been praying for a way to support orphans as Mother's and Father's Day are approaching and that he believed we were an answer to that prayer. I had been frantically running around all weekend and was constantly trying to keep myself from having a mental breakdown. I was running late to this church and kept telling myself I was okay in order to maintain my composure. When I sat down in the pew surrounded by a congregation I didn't know, I looked down at my bulletin that had been handed to me and read "Be still and know that I am God." Right after, the pastor brought me on stage and handed me a mic (this was not what I thought would be happening). I just started crying. The craziness and chaos was in His control. Everything that I thought I had to do to raise money is in His control.

This whole experience is so much bigger than me. We have raised a little over half of the funds to buy the beds, and I still need around $1,500 for my part of the trip. With six weeks left, I am still. God is in control. This process is teaching me to trust and lean on Him. I know somehow the money will be raised because I know this is what God wants. This has humbled me and shown me love and support from different communities. All this hard work will pay off and soon I'll be playing even harder in Africa. Six weeks. Let the countdown begin.

PS- We raised over 1000 dollars in that one weekend and are now down to about 20 shirts. God is so good.

Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.

"True peace is not merely the absence of tension: it is the presence of justice." -Martin Luther King Jr.

My eyes are being opened to the darkness around me. For so long I've closed my eyes and plugged my ears like a child, aimlessly going through life not truly facing the injustices of this world. I would recognize them but not let them impact me, and I would continue on with my life. The past week God broke my heart and redirected my thoughts to those suffering. It hurt so badly. Images were constantly in my mind, and it was like I was hurting with them. I spent most of the week in states of frustration, tears, and helplessness. As thoughts of sex trafficking, child soldiers, war, etc. filled my head, I was left wandering where I fit into this picture. Listening to the ocean as I fell asleep each night lost its sweetness. I would look out at the ocean and wonder who was on the opposite shore looking back at me. I struggled with feeling absolutely powerless to wanting to carry the world on my shoulders (in the end, God is the one with the power and strong enough to carry the world). I began questioning God about why He put me at this school, why I sleep in a bed while others don't, why I'm spending time and effort studying for a test about art or the 1800's. The questions went on and on. I still haven't gotten any answers.

God provides in ways I cannot understand. He is moving even when I can't see. I'm in waiting, no matter how much I fight it. He has me here now for a reason and will take me where He needs me. God is just. He sees the sufferings occurring over the world. By no means am I going back to the eyes closed and ears plugged. I can't. It's impossible. This is just the beginning. I want God to continue breaking me. I'm learning to trust Him. I don't want to forget that there are bigger things going on around me. I want to grow and God is using this pain I'm feeling to do that.

To end my week, I stood with my feet in the ocean in the middle of the night and knew God was taking care of whoever was looking back at me miles away.

You know you want in on this!

So here's the deal...

The orphanage in Uganda that Kristin and I are going to for six weeks this summer has 150 kids living on site. Some of the kids are sleeping on urinated mats on the floor without mosquito nets.

Before we go this summer, we are trying to raise the $4,000.00 to purchase the needed beds, mattresses, bedding, pillows, and mosquito nets for the children. To do this, we are selling t-shirts for $10.00 and stickers for $2.00. We have three styles of shirts: crew neck, v-neck, and fitted v-neck. Sizes S-XL are available. We can ship shirts for an additional $5.00.

To order: Please email me at ajcook521@pointloma.edu or message me on Facebook. Please include the style and size of shirt you would like. If it needs to be shipped, please include your address.

"Like" our fundraiser on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/LoveUgandaTShirts

At this page, you can stay updated on how the fundraising is going, hear about upcoming events, and when we go this summer, we will post pictures and videos of us building the beds for the kids.

Help us spread the word!! Let's get these kids their first beds!!

Special thanks to Carly Hubbard for designing the t-shirt and Garrett Richardson for taking the pictures!

Caution: This may stir emotions and opinions.

"Greater things have yet to come, greater things are still to be done in this city."

Yesterday I was reminded of what I've left behind. Mexico. It's been almost a year since I've been to Nogales. Pastor Jorge was on campus yesterday, and I got to spend a few hours with him. It was so refreshing to have meaningful conversations about something we are both passionate about: the people of Mexico. I know many of you think I'm crazy and naive. Trust me I've heard it all, but let me tell you, you have no idea where my heart is. My heart aches to be there. I know about the violence; I experienced it. I know what is said in the media, but there is also a side of Mexico that you don't see or read in the news. I've seen love like I've never seen before. I've met some of the most hospitable people and have seen pure joy on the faces of those with nothing. I feel a peace there that is indescribable.

Why is it that we are so scared of a country that is suffering that we withhold love? How do I explain to a child that I can't come back because it is not safe for me but completely okay for her to continue living there? Why am I so different than her? How is my life more valuable than any other? Christ's love has no borders. I'll continue to stand by that statement. The violence does not scare me. I know I'm not invincible (and I can guarantee I don't go looking for danger there), but I also know my God has plans beyond my control. "If God is for us, who can be against us? For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." -Romans 8:31b and 38-39. I cannot be protected from something that is inevitable. I want to assure you that I go into Mexico very aware and cautious of my surroundings. I pray earnestly before leaving the country. I will not go or take others with me that do not feel safe. However, I don't just form my opinions and beliefs based on how the media depicts something. I base most of my beliefs on experience, my own and others' who regularly venture across the border. I also openly discuss any possible risks involved with Pastor Jorge before each trip.

The hardest part about all of this is submission. This post may be viewed as rebellious or arrogant which is not my intention. I'll admit I struggle with submitting to the people in my life. There have been plenty of trips planned that I have had to cancel out of submission to those I love. But the beautiful thing about submitting to my family or friends is that I am truly submitting to God.

I apologize if this isn't the easiest thing to read. By no means do I not care about or listen to everyone's opinions. I understand that most of the opinions I hear come out of love and protection for me. I have read and reread this post many times. I have considered deleting it just as much. I have no true purpose or intentions in writing it other than expressing how I feel about the distance I have created between myself and the ones I love on the other side of the fence. I love them. I want my family and friends here to have a better understanding of that, but I know that is almost impossible unless you experience it with me. You will not know how fast my heart pounds as I hear the kids call my name and come running into my arms. I'm okay with being called crazy, naive, immature, unrealistic, or any other label I may receive. I am God's child and He is my Father. That's where I find truth.



"Quiero verte." I want to see you too. More badly than you even know.

New Adventures Await!

Today was one of the best ways to spend a Sunday. Kristin, Sara, and I slept in, got chocolate bread for breakfast (so healthy I know), and went on a hike in La Jolla. We even swam in the ocean which was the first time I've been all the way in since I've come here! (PS... Yes it is January and I swam in the ocean. We've only had one day without sun here since I've been back from break.) Our goal is to go hiking every Sunday. I love it! We get to spend time together and go exploring. And I love standing in awe of God's beauty from the way the sun shines on the ocean to the foam from the waves. We plan on hiking to a waterfall soon which will be amazing!

As this semester begins, I've realized how hard yet fun it will be. I'm taking 17 units and working two jobs. Needless to say, things may get stressful as the semester goes on. The other week a friend told me something that has really stuck with me. She said that whether I have these jobs or not God will provide for me because He wants to be here. He is using me to serve, learn, and grow from these jobs. This semester won't just be filled with work though. We have tons of fun activities planned (and so much more room)! Here is a glimpse into what the semester holds: whale watching, Grand Canyon road trip, spring break road trip/vacation which includes a lazy river, mini golf, dirtbike riding, and water slides, a Washington trip, and to top it all off... AFRICA! It's going to be a great semester!

It's crazy to think that I'll be leaving for Africa in four months. Last semester all I ever did was think about it and now it comes and goes in waves. It seems unreal, but I know it's happening. God has opened so many doors with this trip, and I know this is what He wants which makes me want it even more. We are ordering shirts to raise money for beds in Uganda, and they should be ready in a week or so. Plus the support we have gotten has been so humbling and reassuring. I can't wait to know the kids in Uganda and Kenya as more than a picture or story. I imagine what the trip will be like constantly. I can imagine the plane ride there and back easily, but my imagination cannot comprehend being there. There is this huge gap that my mind can't fill. The one image that is always in my head is playing in the grass with an adorable little kid. It so simple and peaceful. I can so easily get lost in daydreams with this child I've never met. Four months. Just four more months.