a weekend full of surprises

I will say this without hesitation, goodbyes are HARD. We have a saying in my family, "It is not goodbye. It is see you soon." While this is true, it is still a 'goodbye,' to the person they are in that season. The next time I see them things could be different. They will be different, some may be mothers, some may be fathers, wives, husbands, drivers, graduates. Change happens so quick, but it is such a beautiful thing, hidden behind big smiles and sometimes giant tears.

This weekend I had to say my 'goodbyes' to tons of people I love. Friday morning at 6:30am, I answered a knock on my door to see aunties from tour. They drove 18 hours from Texas, to see me. Just to see me, before I move away. While I stood in shock and called them losers, I was amazed at the love I felt in the moment. The day went on, we had lunch at my favorite local spot and then another surprised entered, our 'family,' from North Carolina. They drove 9 hours to be here to see me. Amazed. I was absolutely amazed. We had dinner together Friday night and Saturday we had an entire day planned. Breakfast, skating, lunch, the river and then shopping. We got done with all the things and got home early-- only to see people out of the ordinary at my house.
NOTE: my nerves were already shot. I was shaking most of the weekend because I got surprised and because I was overwhelmed, in good ways. 
I was escorted outside by my mom, my friends and Mrs. Angie to see the best set up ever-- string lights, candles, fire pits, hammocks and then Benjamin House merchandise. The crowd was not there yet, because my sweet momma knew that my nerves could not take anymore surprises.
However, Bucky (BHMs leader) popped up from behind the car with his arm open walking towards me, I shouted the same thing I did for every person who surprised me, "what are you doing!" He laughed and then confessed his previous lies during the week. You would think that would be all the surprises, nope- Alejandro walks out of the house, and I said the same thing again, "what are you doing here"
They came to surprise me. To support me.

I quickly got dressed, sent a text to someone explaining that they were the joke person for the night. That was a big job-- "if I don't want to cry, Im giving a signal and I need a joke." It actually worked a couple times.

I cannot give every detail about Saturday night. But I can say that I looked around at the party and saw faces from every season of my life. High School friends, family friends, close family, family that drove hours to see me, friends that drove days to see me, old pastors, friends that are coming to Uganda, old teachers, my high school principal even showed up. I was in awe to see the amount of people. The special moments I shared with each person there, will forever be etched in my memory. The moments I had to walk to my poolhouse to stop from weeping in front of everyone. The moment our family friend, who is a cop, gave me the best gift. Family telling me that they knew Jesus had me, my dads best friend reading a poem he wrote just for me. Friends from high school crying as they said bye. Every moment, just as special as the next.

Sunday morning came and went quick, we woke up early to spend time together before Texas had to leave. My best friend, my Nonna and my Memaw cooked breakfast and we all got dressed for the commissioning service at church. Worship almost had me jumping up and down, at one point I think my body could have burst with emotions. My pastor called me on stage before he preached and got teary eyed as he talked about sending me off. He talked about my love for Africa, and my love for people. Then he called my family up (we took up 3 rows) -- he told them to gather around me and join together as we all prayed as a church. I opened my eyes during the prayer to see everyone together praying. My Nonno with his hand on my head, by momma wrapped around my arm, my Nonna holding my hand, my best friend squeezing the other and everyone else squeezed together. I looked past my family at the church body to see people standing with their hands lifted. I put my head back down and the pastor said, 'amen,' and my Nonno handed me a handkerchief and said, "Its clean" -- I sat down in awe of Jesus, in awe of the unity and in awe of the power of prayer.

Throughout this weekend I've caught myself saying over and over again, "I wish I could relive this weekend forever." But, really I don't. I don't wish that because it would take away from the beautiful moments that lie within it. I read a book, that said something along these lines - “Going from crying to laughing that fast and hard happens maybe five times in your life and that extreme right turn is the reason why we are alive, and I believe it extends our life by many years.”  --- I'd like to think it applies both ways. I laughed so hard Saturday night that I cried, I literally cried. I stepped back and looked around to see everyone I love standing around fires, together. I said the quote in my head, giggled and then thanked Jesus because he is too, too good. 

To the 'Queen'

to the woman who taught me how to find my true passion.

I never knew someone who loved their job as much as she does. I remember the day I met her, I was 16, lost and unsure of what it was I was passionate about. When I walked into sign up to help with children’s church— I was unsure about it, being that I didn’t know much about kids besides the fact that they cried a lot and sometimes used the bathroom on themselves. I never knew when I walked in that room on that Sunday morning just how much this woman would mean to me. I laughed when I met her, thats normal with meeting this one— she’s funny. 

The next Sunday I got to help her during childrens church and I watched her while I sat in the back, being a ‘special friend’ for a talker. I watched her teach a lesson, I watched it consume her, I watched her look into every childs eyes, like they were the only person in the room. I watched the group of children absorb her every word like it was all they would ever know. She taught them with such passion. She knew what things worked and what things didn’t— It was one of my favorite things to see. She would walk the little stage, she would sit to get more eye level with the children and she would sing and dance when it was time for worship. 

I remember leaving that day and knowing that I would help her as much as possible. I knew that I loved Mrs. Susanna and I knew that I would learn so much from her, if I only paid attention. 

Shortly after that first Sunday morning with her, I was one of hers. She was my momma, away from my momma. I was at her house more than I was at my own. Her kids and I were such great friends. Her daughter was 2 years younger than me, her son was away at college, and her other son was working on a college campus. Her husband lived in another city due to a job. They were a whole family, but in different locations. Somehow they figured out the perfect formula to make it work and it did. When they would all come home on the weekends, I was there—of course, and I saw the love they each had for one another. And wow, did they all know how to laugh. They laughed more than any family I’d ever been around. Ever. For two years I stayed at their house to do homework, watch Glee and laugh until I cried. 

The times I had in that house I will forever cherish. Forever. Somedays when I am driving around, I will drive by the house to see it. It nostalgic. Its special to me, it always will be. I remember her office window in the house was right by the back door and everytime I got to the house I would bang on that window to scare her— she would of course scream and then we would both laugh so hard we would nearly pee our pants. Or on stormy nights her daughter and I would crawl into her giant bed and sleep with her and the dog, all 4 of us on a king size bed. We always knew that when her daughter gradated high school that she would move to live with her husband. I always knew she would end up leaving, but I never thought it would come— when I left first for massage school, I did not help much with preschool anymore. But her daughter graduated high school and they moved. 

I remember being over there for the yard sale, it was weird seeing their things leave the house. But I know they were excited about being together. Of course, as life goes we did not get to keep in touch as much as one would hope. I fell away, I started going to Africa and she lived in a different city hours away— these are not excuses they are simple me telling you I regret not being around. However, I knew when I returned home from that first trip to Africa and I started the preschool department at my church, I realized how working under her 3 years before prepared me for that very task. I called her to tell her all about it- while she gave me a notebook of pointers and curriculum ideas. 

I could not have done it without her. I could not have done it, if I wouldnt have watched her those years. I watched her after good Sunday mornings and I watched her after bad Sunday mornings. I knew that no matter the outcome of that morning, she still loved it because she loved those children and it was her calling. 

Fast forward to today— she asked me to come speak at her ‘new' church because her kids had been praying for me for 8 months. I of course said, ‘yes’ and mom and I drove up. We got there and immediately laughed as we greeted each other. We went inside the church and started to catch up- I explained how fearful I was, how nervous I was and her response, “why? did God not get you this far? What are you scared of?”

I responded with something smart like, “death”

Her response - “Guess, what. If its your time to go no mater where you are in this world, you’re going” 

With one sentence she calmed my mind down a tiny bit. After I spoke at the church we went to eat, I rode with her and the whole way to the restaurant she continued lifting me up, reminding me of who I was in my life, of how proud of me she was. How she knew that it was something I was going to do-- that Gods called me there for 365 days, for now, but who knows what will actually happen. I told her about my overthinking and she broke it down for me. She reminded me how important it is to take it day by day. 

Just that 15 minute car ride changed my entire perspective of faith and fear. She helped me realize that this was my life, she reminded me what my passion was, children. 

Here is to the woman, who taught me everything I know about teaching, about patience and about loving all children the same no matter their story. She entered my life right when I was about to give up on searching for that passion. She entered when I was bitter towards church. She showed me how strong women can change things, how strong women can love and not ask for anything in return and how strong women aren’t afraid to fail, but they know how to apologize. She taught me to pray, to love, to give and to listen. She taught me so much. 

One day we will have a little white house with lots of land and we will teach together. We will laugh daily and we will listen to each others stories. That day may be in heaven, but I cannot wait for it! 

Thank you for loving me always and for believing in me, even when you wrote my reports in high school. Thank you for listening to me and giving me sound advice in every season of my life.

A letter to Donald Trump-- from a missionaries heart.

I am in no way going to argue, cause any tensions or allow people to degrade one another because of their views on this election.

I am writing this blog because I was told to by Jesus, Sunday morning while we were singing "Your Promises" -- so before I go any further in this blog. Jesus already knows who is winning this election, He knows what is going to happen to America. There is nothing we do or say that will change that. We just have to trust Him and not focus on this false sense of security that America gives us, we have to put our trust in Him. Always.

With all of this being said- This could not be what you want to hear, but Donald Trump scares me, more than anyone else ever has. Granted, I was not alive when Hilter was around, but I imagine them having things in common. The smug things they say, the way they want to get rid of people who do not look and act exactly like them. It is scary.

I move to another country in 2 weeks. This country that I am moving to has a big Muslim community. There are, "calls to prayer,' daily. There are men and women walking around, peacefully and not bothering anyone or anything. However, Isis is a real thing- We all know this. Everyone in the world knows this. I worry daily about children being taken and brainwashed to join Isis, but that doesn't happen often in Uganda. It happens more over here. It happens because of rebellious teenagers who allow their brains to be molded by social media. They join and they become radical muslims- Isis.

Muslims in general are not like that, they are peaceful, they are kind. They smile and they want to learn about life and about people. They have rich culture and the fact that a man who is leading in the polls is shouting to top of his lungs, that he HATES muslims... is the most racial thing I can imagine. Ever.

My child, A child that I had the best relationship with on tour came from a muslim family. I met her family when I visited her last summer. Her mother was peaceful and kind, she smiled and bowed to me as I walked up. She handed me her newborn baby and watched as I talked to Asia. They house had no power, it was tiny and 8 of them lived in there. Happy and loving. I left crying because I knew that her family didn't know Jesus, but they knew how to love. Asia told us a story that day about her mother defending her while she was away. Another child, in attempt to pick at her, made fun of her God. Her mother boldly stepped out and shouted, "You do not mock my daughter and you do not mock her God."

Prayer works.

To think that in a speech that Donald Trump gave last week, about soaking bullets in pigs blood and then killing all the Muslims, and to know that he won South Carolina. I cried again. I cried because of how blind America has become. We listen to this man who shouts things about false security, he shouts racial slurs and he shouts lies only brainwashing the people who follow him.  He has no idea how to lead, and most importantly he has no idea how to love. This country is based on God, and what did we learn in preschool?
GOD IS LOVE.
Yet, we are blindly letting a hot headed businessman make his way to the top. We are allowing him to say whatever he wants and we are all falling for it.

Before I committed to Uganda, I was scared. I was scared of Isis. I was scared of the attacks and of what could happen. But now that is a faint memory. I am now more scared about Trump sitting in that office. Think of the people that he will attract, of the things he will say and the countries he will try and kill off.

Coming from this missionaries heart, I am begging you to please reconsider electing this man. He is lost, he confused and he will have every single missionary in this world chastised. I should not worry, I have Jesus and that is far more than enough.

We are welcome in other countries, Americans are welcome and treated well in other places. Yet, we are kicking out anyone who was not born here. We are degrading entire races and we are allowing a man to dig us into a hole.
And anyone who says, "we are not welcome in their country, so they should not be welcome here." It shows how much you've traveled.

I am not claiming to have all of the answers. There are plenty of reasons not to vote for other people as well. This is just one of those giant problems that will cause more problems than not. I am not claiming to be a republican or a democrat. I am claiming to be a Christian and his believes and my believes are two completely different things.

change.

Its nearly 1am, my cat is snoring beside me, I can hear one of my candles making the crackle sound and I am writing to end this night.  Today was a good day. It was filled with surprises. I was picked up for lunch by a sweet woman, I consider my family. We went to lunch, laughed a lot and then we headed to her friends house. One thing you should know up front, this woman is friends with everyone.

Every. One.

We pulled up to this big house on a farm and walked inside to be welcomed by a super, sweet young girl. She talked about her pets and I thought it would be a short visit because we started with small talk. As we walked further in to the house, we were handed babies and I asked all sorts of questions about their family. They are all adopted, from America, and they live on this farm. One of the girls baked cookies, one girl showed me the soap she makes, another was taking care of the little babes and the few boys were dressed in all camo walking in one room and out the other. They seemed to be on a very important, "mission'. Their mom came home, she is such graceful woman. She walked in was asked 700 questions, answered them all and still had time to answer a phone call.

an hour passed.

While she stood in the kitchen, I fed a baby and my sweet friend who brought me to this magical place introduced me as, 'the one who is moving to Africa.' Their mother asked me all sorts of questions and then paused to shout, "WHY IS THERE A LIZARD IN MY KITCHEN. BOYSSSS." Seconds passed and in walk young boys all dressed in camo, to catch the beast. They caught him, trapped him and we carried on as if nothing ever happened. As I sat there in awe of their story, how their family started, and how I'd ended up at this house on a day where my heart was all over the place -- was beyond me.

The mother left and the other girls asked me so many questions about Uganda. What is it like? Hot or cold? Orphan crisis? Explain. What is your degree in? Who are you going with? Each question I answered with a smile on my face because I knew that I was where I needed to be in that exact moment. However, they would ask me a questions about my life and then I would ask them a question about theirs. My favorite question was, "did you grow up in church?"

I hesitated. Simply, because I did not want these girls to think differently of me. We had such a good talk going. I paused took a deep breath in and with my next sentence I knew I would crush them.

"No, I didn't. I didn't really know who Jesus was until I was 19." -- I justified it by saying that I knew of him, but I didn't truly know him. Their faces didn't change. They didn't wince, they didn't look down. They kept making eye contact and they nodded in joy.

I overcame something major today. I am still sometimes a closed book, especially in one on one situations. I open up and then feel the need to apologize or preface by saying, "promise not to judge me."

I came home to sit on my couch for a bit before I had to do laundry. Then my Papaw came over, sat on my couch and the conversation we had will forever be etched on my heart. It was pure, raw and ended better than any movie ever could.

As I sit on my couch, next to my snoring cat. I write about my day. I make it sound so great and wonderful, which of course it was all of those things. But today was not easy -- I overthought a lot. I cleaned out my bathroom tonight and took down a painting and got teary eyed because it finally hit me today on the morning of Feb. 6th, that I am moving to another country. Sure, it's not fully hit me. That will happen while I am packing my bags. I will pack and unpack and pack and unpack and cry while I do each of them.

Today, I learned a lot about life through -- even through my overthinking. I learned that its best to put that aside most days and embrace the day given to you. It's best to not worry about tomorrow because I have no control over it. It's best to give my undivided attention to young girls who are asking about my past. It's important to love, to love with every fiber of your being because you do not know when that person was last told they were loved. It's best to listen to wise men. And it's okay to cry when you take down paining and clean out closets. That is part of life -- its all about change & that's not a bad thing.