A confession | written 2 weeks ago

I know that Jesus called me here for a reason. I know that he called me here to be his hands and feet, but there are moments when I doubt and worry. Which I’d like to think is a normal response to things when I am on the other side of the world away from all of my comfort.

Everyday since being here I have learned new things about myself, somethings personal and some not so much. However, yesterday was one of the hardest things to learn about myself. 

For 4 years I have tried to be someone that I am not, I have tried to be adventurous and brave. I have tried being this person who is looked at as someone who can sleep outside and not worry about snakes, bugs or people getting them. I wanted to be someone who could camp for days and not worry about anything happening. 

Since moving here I have become part of an awesome life group of girls- they all are from the United States and they all have such rich and beautiful stories. We meet on Wednesdays -  and no, we don’t wear pink. We all speak life into each other and we are going over Isiah in the Bible right now. Well, this weekend we decided to go on a girls weekend- to Sipi Falls. This was going to be a 5 hour journey to the border of Uganda and Kenya. Our journey started on Friday morning, I woke up in Caroline’s house, we called in breakfast and then we both boarded the same boda. We arrived at Italian (a supermarket in town) we met the rest of the girls there and then all boarded boads and went to the old taxi park - this is where we would be boarding our charter bus to drive us across the country. It was like a chaotic Greyhound station times 50 — people are allowed to jump on the bus and try and sell things- people knock on windows while we sit in the heat waiting to get the journey started. We waited on the bus for two hours and then it finally went off - we were on the way. 

Of course, as we started the every worst case scenario was going through my mind. 

If we break down, where do we go?

If we get stopped and robbed, what do we do? 

-Now we were past Jinja and I had no idea where we were. Just empty fields with tall grass.
LION CITY.
Again with the thoughts. 

If we break down, where do we go?

If my phones dies. What will I do?

If we get stopped and robbed, what do we do?

None of these happened and they are not common here in Uganda. They were just my thoughts running wild because we were 7 muzungu girls traveling hours away from anywhere we are familiar with. 

I won’t go into every detail here because it could get boring. I’ll go over some highlights
-our gas light was on for an hour and nothing was in sight and the sun was setting
-we arrived to where we board a taxi at 8 - dark outside.
-We met our friend who was already there, she came over and said, “I got us a taxi," we all loaded into a tiny car and down a dark dirt road we went.

MY THOUGHTS HAD GONE CRAZY.

The enemy was trying to stop me. I think that at least. It could just be the way I was raised. I was raised in the south by parents and grandparents that were very alert to the things going on around us. I am naturally a worrier — I worry about so many things that could go wrong. I create stories. I prayed more on the journey there than I ever have before. We finally got to Sipi Falls — Crows Nest and there wasn't power, we were escorted up to our tiny hut cabins by a guy with a gas lantern. We got our headlamps out and read before bed. Our bathroom and shower was outside the little hut. Our hut, lets go over this real quick - our hut was a tiny one room little house with a straw roof. I heard mice running on the ceiling all night and dogs howling outside.  We turned off our headlamps and it was pitch black — we went to sleep. kind of. I was restless.

___________________________

To my surprise I survived the night.

We woke up excited about the day - we were going to hike to 3 different waterfalls. We put on our clothes, that we decided on the night before — gym shorts, chacos and a tank top for me. We went down for breakfast, put on sunscreen and our Ugandan guide came over with rainboots and said - ‘ready?’ The journey started. My backpack was packed with water, a camera and an extra t-shirt in case. We got a little ways in and it was nothing but down hill, it had rained a little bit the night before and it was a little slippery. One of the girls asked how far the hike was and he said, “9 miles” 

9 MILES. 

This was it. This was my test. I looked over the mountain and could see two of the three waterfalls in the distance and I said to myself - “we are doing this.”  - My knees had already told me that we were not, so did my heart and my head but I wanted to ignore everything and push through it. Note to self - PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR BODY. IT KNOWS. 

Still going down, still slippery. 

*One thing you need to know about me I have terrible knees. Terrible. knees.  Like both have popped out of place before and my hip has to be put back into it correct place often. I had no idea leading up that this hike would be this intense and I did not pack my shoes with insoles. I only had chaos and that was the worst thing I could have been wearing at the time. I stepped in a pile of mud in the process of trying to catch myself during the slip and slide. I also got stabbed at the bottom of my foot by a stick, it may or may not be infected a tiny bit. 

Now back to the story. We kept going and I met a young guy named Levi, let me brag on him for a second. He is an angel sent from heaven. When I knew that my knees would betray me I prayed for Jesus to send me TJ/Alejandro (the two people who I know look after me and are prepared to catch me and my bad knees at any given moment) Jesus sent Levi. I thought I had it, I was still doing good and the other girls were doing great. I wasn't in the back but I wasn't in the front and when there were big mud spots to jump over Levi would help me. When there were spots missing out of the side of the mountain - Levi would help me. He was kind and patient. 

I kept going and then there was the incline. This lead us to the waterfall. Okay, I can't describe this accurately, but I was climbing up a mountain, literally climbing up a mountain to a waterfall I saw still a bit in the distance. Levi pulled me most of the way and a few times I had to stop to rest my knees because they were done. Both of them, but the right more than the left. My hip was giving me a pinching pain I’d never felt before and I knew that I should have listened to my body two hours before, but I ignored it. Finally made it to the waterfall - finally made it to the prettiest place I’e ever been and all I wanted to do was cry because I knew. 

I knew that I placed myself here, that I felts stuck and that my knee had popped out and popped back in. The swelling had started a tiny bit but the pain wasn't fun. I wanted to lay out and stretch but the ground was muddy. So I drank my water, told my friends that I was in pain and I looked at the waterfall knowing the Jesus was teaching me something - something that i wasnt ready to learn. 

I kept going, thinking that I would make it to the other two waterfalls. Again with the incline. Again with climbing straight up a  mountain - Levi pulling me most of the way. We got to one spot and I had to to sit because I hurt so bad, I had tears in my eyes and I felt nauseous because of the heat, high altitude and messed up knee. I kept trying to get up because I knew there had to be a break at some point. Levi pulled me up the rest of the way. Joy, had my back pack and the rest of the girls pushed me literally at some points. There was an offer on the table for the group of teenage boys to carry me up the mountain and I declined because the idea of them dropping me was scarier than my climbing on a bum knee. 

Here we go, we are here. At the top of the mountain that I have cried half of the way up. I asked our guide when we would be near the road, I had already decided to throw in the flag because I couldn’t do it anymore. I was getting a boda back to our huts and I was elevating this knee while I cried. Our guide said, "just a bit longer and then one more climb"- Here we were on the side of a mountain about to climb up a man made ladder, made of big sticked nailed together. There were about 50 steps and they went straight up. I let most of the girls go while I cried because I knew this would be the death of my knee. It took me 20 minutes to get to the top of the wobbly, unstable ladder that lead me to the end of this hell I had created for myself. 

We got to the top - my tears and runny nose were all I needed to know I was going home. I was going back to my hut to rest because my knees betrayed me. I got on the back of a boda and we started off - he took me to my place and I had to climb a little bit further to my room. I sat down on my front porch overlooking the mountain I had just learned so much from,  I ugly cried for a bit and then I called for someone to come get me. I cried while I talked about it and about how my knee was in pain, I was in pain and I was ashamed. I  called TJ and cried harder while I told him all about it - about my fears, my pain, my embarrassment and about my heartbreak because I realized that who I thought I was is not who I truly am.

Here are the texts I wrote out and sent to someone who knows me - even when I think he doesnt. 

"Im just not like this and think thats the hardest part for me to get over - like I  thought that I want this life, always. I want to be brave and adventurous and not care that there are rats i the ceiling or a giant gap under a door that a dog can fit through but right now that now how I operate. & I have to be okay with that. I want to hike the full 9 miles not just 3 and quit because my knee, but that not me right now and thats HARD TO ADMIT. 

I was so looking forward to walking in the compound tomorrow with a  new adventure story after my boda dropped me off, and I walk in dirty and joyful but that just not me yet and I’ve cried all afternoon because Im just not her. "

______

I got a car to come pick me and my friends up early. We drove through the night because if we wouldnt have then we would still be on a packed taxi and that is not what my knee needs today. 

__________

Jesus taught me things yesterday that were hard to realize. He showed me his beauty in ways Ive never seen it but I think mostly he showed me that no matter what happens in this life, no matter how hard moments are to realize that I am this way and not that way that he is still good. I cried on my floor yesterday while I thanked him for creating me the way he did - even if I am not who I thought I was. Someday I will hike the full 9 miles and when I am done I will cry because I showed that mountain who is boss. My heart is still heavy, my knee still hurts and I am sad because I feel like I was the one person at the slumber party who ruined the sleepover.

On this day a year ago | The day I was introduced to Benjamin House

A year ago yesterday I called my momma while I paced around a giant church telling her all about the things I could do after tour. Her response was, “just wait it out. I think something is coming.” 

A year ago today I met Bucky Rogers.

A year ago today I was at a church in South Carolina, watching my kids perform a concert in every service.

A year ago today I helped people fill out at least 35 sponsorship forms. 

A year ago today I went back to my host home and celebrated Sweet Susan's birthday. 

A year ago today I slept most of the day because my host (Uhm Lisa Queen) was an angel. 

A year ago today I told my friend all about Benjamin House and how I may want to look more into it.

If you would have told me last year on that very day that I approached Bucky and said, “tell me your story” — That I would be sitting in Uganda in the same office as him and the team I would have ran far, far away. But here I sit in the office. Waiting for pictures to upload while I write. We just got back to the office from lunch. I craved Chick Fil A a lot today and I had to settle for rice and beans, but I put jalepenos in it to make it a bit different. I learned more about myself today - some things negative, some positive. In about an hour we will go pick up Innocent from school and then go home for Taco Tuesday. This weekend we are going to the slum to get video footage for Vacation Bible School packets, to go over the sponsorship packets and to visit the kids.

Today, I FINALLY got a video emailed to our social media guys in American, Ive been trying for 3 weeks. Today, I have a bum leg because I tried to hike this weekend in Chacos - my knee said no and I ignored it (blog coming soon) - Today, I laughed on the way to work in the car with Alejandro. I played Dutch Blitz with Xan during lunch break. I walked to the store with the boys to get water. Julie and I complained about how we cannot straighten our hair and we ended in laughter. Today, I hugged my roommate/BFF Gloria tight and told her how thankful I am for her. This morning I had to count to three, multiple times before I jumped into my cold shower. This morning I ran late, but Bucky is good at grace. Today, I created a list of the foods I miss and I decided that I would find sushi place in Kampala soon. Today, I rode down super bumpy dirt roads and I said I wanted a pet goat each time I saw one. 

Today, I am in Uganda. I am learning to live life here. I have been here for a month officially and it has been one of the realest months of my life. I am learning a lot about myself and about this culture. About Jesus and about what all I am passionate about. 

Ready to see where I will be in a year. But wanting to embrace every single second this year has to offer. 

                                 
                                               

                                                 
                                       

Alejandro's Birthday 🎉

I met him a year ago today, on his birthday - I was loading the luggage into the van on a rainy day and he was hugging our boys tight while he told them, "goodbye." The first thing I asked him was, "are you the one giving up your citizenship to move to Uganda." He looked puzzled and responded with, "yeah, that's me." I knew then he was different. 

I could write a thousand good things about Alejandro. I could talk about his humble heart  or his patient, patient spirit. I could talk about his heart to want to serve - or his heart to be 12 years old again. I could talk about his heart for Jesus and his heart for this ministry - but most of you know these things. I’ll just say this 

— I’ve never met anyone in this world like him. 

He came into my life quick and I had no idea what our friendship would look like. Now we are here in Uganda and I can honestly say that somedays I would not make it through without him here to listen to me cry, laugh at my own jokes or FaceTime my family. 

He reminds me daily to humble myself and to be patient. He reminds me to be confident in who I am. He is a good dude and without him Benjamin House would not be the same — He turns 23, on Thursday and as you know being a missionary isn’t a paid position. I am wanting to do something special for him. I want to try and raise some birthday money for his support—

You see, Alejandro committed his life to this mission - he committed to giving up his comfort. We  all gave up some of our comfort, but he gave up his United States visa to embark on this adventure. That is what I mean when I say, I’ve never met anyone in this world like him. Most of you reading this are thinking of tons of memories you have with him - share them and share this blog. 

Please donate to his birthday fund at Benjaminhouse.net

Our goal is $300 

I will be posting updates throughout the next couple of days. 

My crayon drawn graphic will be updated as the funds are raised!  

Heres to you, Alejandro. 

Happy Birthday!! 

A Day in the Slum (WARNING: This one is hard to digest)

I held a child in my arms, that was no older than 5- who had been raped less than 24 hours before.

I listened to her mother tell me the story, the awful story. 

I listened to child's little giggle as she sat in my lap and I wondered for a second if her innocence was taken. I wondered for a second if there was ever a moment in my life that I would not be thinking of this very second. I wondered if I would ever forgive the man that did this to her. I wondered how Jesus does this. How He listens to every single word we say and how he hold us when we are scared, or worried and how He still loves the man who did this to her. 

We prayed for her and as I held her, I buried my face in her back and I cried because no child should ever have to endure anything like that, ever. 

If this is too heavy- it only gets heavier. 

Benjamin House is starting a sponsorship program in the slums of Uganda. Right now we are working in Katanga, this was featured on our documentary - Katanga is a place that is in the middle of the city. Its surrounded by sewage drains and trash. When it rains the drains fills up and go into their homes, I say homes- they are smaller than a bathroom in America, they have holes in the ceiling for air flow and they do not have power - the mothers in this area are single and they care for up to 9 kids, their is hardly any income. The only kind of income usually comes from their children selling things on the streets- bananas, avocados, sugarcane- mind you - these kids are between the ages of 5-14 - they will never know a childhood because its either taken from them or they work to get school fees. 

Wrapping our American mind set around that is nearly impossible. Literally, I'm sitting in my house, on my computer, under my fan, listening to music and weeping while I write the hardships of these people -- but it does no justice. I am just another person trying to open the eyes of people who can't see these things, can't sit on an tattered, wet couch and listen to a mother weep because her daughter has HIV. 

In Uganda when people welcome you into their home, you go in. When they offer you a seat, you take it. It's rude not to. Have you ever seen a movie that takes place in Italy, like on the cobblestone roads, that super thin? Imagine that, now take away the cobblestone and the tall buildings, but add trash and sick animal, kids running everywhere and a literal sewage drain right next to it. Now turn the corner, walk towards the back and there are homes, tin walls, tin roof, concrete floors, some dirt floors, laundry handing over the street so you have to duck - that is the best description I can give.

I turned the corner and a mother held out her hand to escort me into her house. It was dark, pitch black- she told me to sit on the chair, a straw chair that I was scared I would break. I sat down, Alejandro sat in the chair right across from me - the chairs were so close that we couldn't sit with our knees in front of us. The mother got a mat out and rolled it on the floor-- the 3 Ugandans that were with us, sat on top of one another while we listened to her story. Her daughter came from behind a sheet, which was draped over the bed. She sat in the door frame. 

The mother started telling us about her children, we only had one registered in our sponsorship program. She has six children, two are in the village- meaning they are old enough to be on their own, so they moved to a village to be farmers. Two others go to school, One is a baby and the other one is fourteen years old. 

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I'll never be able to give this story the voice that it needs.

I asked the mother why the fourteen year old was home, the mother started weeping while she explained that they are both HIV positive. They have to take medicine that requires them to eat and drink, they have neither of those necessities. She explained that her fourteen year old daughter didn't go to school because she was ridiculed for being 'more developed' due to the medicine. Her mother went on about how the child, asks why she has it and the other don't, why did she get this disease that keeps her isolated and scared of the world. Her mother just cried, I could feel her guilt and shame, I could feel the weight of her heart- literally beating out of her chest. As I sat on a straw chair and listened to a mother tell me her regrets, I cried as I tried to wrap my mind around not having income, not having food to take with medicine, not having good health, not having all of my family together under one roof and then I realized that this was their life. This was their normal. 

Jimmy, our project director, asked me to say something encouraging. I told the mother that this wasn't the end her life, that her story would change, that good things were coming. Then I looked at the fourteen year old girl, who the same age as my baby sister, and I told her that she was beautiful, smart and that she would be successful. I told her that she is not defined by her sickness- then I pulled out a sponsorship form and told that baby that she is going to school. She wants to do hair. She wants to make people feel pretty, because she never has. What love. I'll never understand--

We left there and went onto another sponsor child's house. What you should know about this child is that she is the happiest child I have ever been around. A certain someone taught her Spanish, so now she greets me in Spanish because she thinks all muzungus (white people) know Spanish. We laugh and then she tells me to sing her song because someone also told her that I could sing, that poor child may have her heart broke when she realizes that I cannot hold a tune in a bucket. She also, tells me to not wear my hair up because it makes me look old, that I am 'young and beautiful, wear it in a style' is what she says. This child is so full of life that you would not think her living conditions would be what they are -- I walked into her house, she was at school (when these kids are in school, it means that they paid for their fees- which means they are working the streets selling things) -- Her mother sat me on the couch, and the Ugandans piled on top - She sat on the side of her bed and began her story. Three words in she cried, her mother was a street child. 

Her mother abandoned her when she was young, she left her with a relative who was abusive  - so she ran away. She lived on the streets for ten years, got pregnant with our girl and then moved to the slum because a woman gave her 80,000 shillings (200 dollars)  to buy a home. She had more children while living there and then she took in three children off the streets because she knew how hard that life was. She now has nine children living in a home that is the size of my kitchen back in America and her uncle lives with them. She too has HIV and just like the last story, she cannot afford food to take with her medicine. She works at a bar to get rent paid for and the kids work on the streets to get money for schools fees and food. 

Before we left, we spoke encouragement into her life and I told her she was a good mama. They are. They care for their kids, they don't leave them and they give them the bed when it rains and their floors flood with sewage water. She cried, got on her knees and raised them to Jesus. Before we left, we prayed for her. Something else- when you open the front door to their home, a mosque is within arms reach. I placed my hands on her and began to pray- in that moment I felt warfare. I battled the enemy for this family and I am going to continue to battle the enemy for this family. 

This slum is ours -- that sounds like a dance movie. It's not - its real life. Most of Katanga is Islam and you can feel it right when you walk back onto the little aisles that lead to their homes. I am here, saying that I will fight with everything in me for these families and these kids. 

The government here in Uganda, is going to plow over the slum in a year. He gave his warning, but where do they go? They have no jobs, they have no qualifications, they have no family - so they return to the streets. They go backwards. The kids get separated in to orphanages or prison. They won't have an identity. So what do we do? Sit back and let their lives just go by because "its not our problem" -- 

I can't unseen what I saw today, I can't unseen the fourteen year old telling me with tears in her eyes that people make fun of her because of HIV, I can't unseen the mother who weeps at the thought of her children ending up on the street, like she was. I can't unseen the sewage water. I can't unseen the dirty bodies. I can't unseen the visible sicknesses. I can't unseen the homes that are soggy from last weeks rain, I can't unseen the trash. I can't unsmell the smells. I can't and I won't.

I do not know how we could ever fix this massive problem. 

Misquito nets to avoid malaria.

HIV medicine that can be taken without food.

Clean water.

Sponsor kids. 

But then what happens when they are all homeless? What's next. 

I want to start a gofundme page to raise money to build them an apartment complex, but there are 10,000 people living in that particular slum. So for now, I am going to tell you that for the next few hours- I will be here on my floor crying out to Jesus, and asking Him what I am supposed to do. Join me? (I mean not on my floor because I'm on the other side of the world, I'm smelly and I'm about to ugly cry) But, join me in asking Jesus what we need to do- 

This is for them. 

March 29th. | Our wifi isn't the best

Today is hard and for me to try and tell you otherwise would be a lie. I want to get in the car and head to the airport, get on a flight and be welcomed by my family when I land in the United States. 

I found myself praying in the middle of the night for joy, I was asking Jesus to remind me of that joy that brought me here in the first place. Clearly I was under attack and I was trying to push away the lies of the enemy in my sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night multiple times — hot, sweaty and ready to wake up and it be my day to fly home. But, I knew that Jesus had me even in the hard moments. 

Last night we took Tony to the airport- Tony is Alejandros best friend. He flew over with us and has been here with us every second of everyday and now I do not know what to do without him here. He is funny, but he can cry at the drop of a hat. He is humble and willing to serve. I learned so much by jus watching him and knowing that he was here was a peace that things aren’t too bad- then he left, we all knew it was coming. We knew that he would be leaving in 3 weeks from the time he got here and last night he did. Tears were shed and the ride home was quiet. I think it hit me last night that I am here, Tony was the ‘guest’ who was keeping us all distracted, in such good ways. He would make us laugh when we missed our family, when we were sick and his daily walks to the store were the best part of the young boys days. He fixed the shower and led devotion. It was like he was part of the team, of course he is a part of this family, but it was like he was here with us for good. & now he is gone. Its quiet today. Alejandro hasn’t said much and everytime someone says, ‘Tony’ he raises his eyebrow — I imagine its his way of thinking of a good memory. Saying bye to people isn’t easy. It never is — its hard every single time. It doesnt get easier with time, it get harder- honestly. I just learn how to deal with it better. How to hide the tears, how to be stronger for the other guy- but here I am today literally waiting to go home. 

It is not fair to my team it is not fair to myself and it is not fair to Jesus. It is not fair that He called me here and I am wasting a day by whining. Today is an office day and today my heart is LONGING to be outside on the field serving. I want to be in the slums - where everything is crazy, chaotic but I want to be holding the same kids I did yesterday. If you wanna get your world rocked - go to a slum in a developing country. Yes, most of the country is in poverty — but this amount of poverty is almost unbearable. But, I’d live there. I would set up a giant house with 85 bathtubs and bathe everyone of the kids, then I would doctor their sores and then I would tuck them into bed. I would love them more than any human in this world could and I would be there every second of everyday loving them. 

This is my dream- this is what I want to do, but instead I am editing videos for our ministry— which is needed, I am not doubting that in the least. I am simply stating that I want to be outside of the compound to distract my thoughts. This is needed though, being in the office. I know it is, I know that these things are putting up the foundation and I know that Jesus is teaching me so much through it — but sheesh. I miss my people today.