African Muzungu

It’s only 7 more days until I’m on a plane back to Uganda. After 9 months, it hardly seems possible. People keep asking me if I’m ready. My answer? Not yet. But that’s what the next 7 days is for, right? ;) I knew these last weeks would fly by fast, as they always do. And as always, I’m left scrambling till the end! But I think I should be packed more than I am. I’ve only been doing it for 9 months!   I can’t remember ever being so nervous-excited to go back. There is so much I’m happily anticipating and thrilled about, but as you might imagine, there’s also a good bit of nerves. I know there are awkward, painful reminders waiting for me when I get there. I’ve seen some of the hard, the painful, the scary of being on the front lines of ministry, and I know things don’t necessarily just get easier from here. But I have walked with Jesus through suffering, and I know I just have to look beside me to find Him there again. I’ve never had to do that so constantly ever before in my life

Holidays are so different here. I know, understatement of the year, right? But it’s true. There’s a part of me that after living with the extreme poverty and suffering of third-world Africa just cringes with the amount of consumerism and greed shown by our culture, especially around the holidays. Right now, the stores are filled with an odd mix of leftover Halloween costumes, turkeys, and Santa Claus figurines. They’re symbols of the frenzy of the American holiday season.  But there’s also something really special about the hoopla around holidays, especially in the church.  Most churches really try to take advantage of the constant reminders of consumerism to focus on what the real value and point of the holidays is. Being in America you just can't get away from the reminders of the holidays, whereas in Uganda it's easier for one day to be just like another. This year, I'm cherishing the opportunity to savor the festivities, always remembering what is most important. I

This Tuesday evening, HUM is holding a super fun event for those in the Dallas area.  Come for your chance to win and bid on great prizes, enjoy fun (non-alcoholic) drinks, and yummy deserts. It is open invite, so if you're in the area, just let me know that you're planning on coming! And come with friends!

Photo credit:  Gap Adventures They are the shopkeepers, the hawkers of wares, the sellers of everything imaginable. They call out, shout, demand for attention, thrusting their goods in my face. Demanding that I purchase. But it is money spent for that which is not bread. It is a purchase of that which cannot satisfy.  Photo credit: Atlas But deny them once, and they will pursue every louder. They are desperate for even just a piece of me. I must flee. I must get away. Back to the One who offers wine and bread without cost. I must drink deeply of His waters. I must incline my ear to His voice, running into His presence so that I might live. For He offers what they can only fake. Steadfast love. Change. Purpose. Joy. True peace. He is the only source of life. He is calling: “Come, be filled again.” In the midst of the craziness that is travel and fundraising, Jesus brought me to Isaiah 55:1-3. This precious passage immediately summoned imag

People say I’m brave for living in Africa. I don’t feel brave. In fact, a lot of times I’m downright scared. Before moving to Uganda, I had several major fears that I recognized and had to purposefully surrender to Jesus. The list wasn’t very long, but included on that list were an assault and being rejected by people I so loved. It was a bit of a shock to realize that 2 of my major fears came true within months of each other. I’m not going to lie and say that I realize now that I had no reason to fear those things. Let me tell you, actually experiencing them was just as painful as I had feared. The loss, grief, depression, anger, and deep aching pain were all very real. No, I don’t believe God tells us time and time again “Don’t be afraid” because there is nothing to fear. On the contrary, there is so much to rightfully fear that comes from living in a broken world and surrounds us every moment. Loved ones agonize through cancer. Jobs are lost. People lie and stab us in the back.

As a missionary, I believe my single most important role is loving on people. In Uganda, that can look like a huge variety of things on a daily basis: verbal encouragement or praise, paying for school fees, listening to someone’s story, giving someone a ride, teaching a truth from God’s Word, tight hugs, a trip to the clinic, or even just a cheerful ‘How are you?’ I just love the myriad of opportunities I get to love on people, but love that has impact must also be very intentional. It takes thought, planning, praying, and sensitivity to the Spirit. And when Jesus binds hearts together with His love, it’s an incredible thing!! But what happens when the person you so intentionally loved, doesn’t love you back? Or even worse, stops loving you? Over last year, I developed an amazing friendship with a Ugandan family that I just adored. I spent hours in their home, sitting on their bed laughing, crying, cuddling their baby, trying new foods, and sharing the work of God in our lives