My Own Flesh.

One can't always tell the difference between me acting my strange self or malaria possibly entering my brain...well except my best friend, that is. 

Caroline and I had finally gone to town to indulge in the milkshake we waited 40 days for, and I had been feeling more like myself than I had that whole week. Malaria drained all the energy from my body and I felt like the dried up gum on the sidewalk. And I’m probably the worst sick person alive…I mean really I act like I can run a 5K when I have a temp of 103’. Okay not really, but I was stoked to be feeling better. After leaving one of our favorite coffee shops in town we started walking to the super market to get some groceries when I started feeling weird. I thought it was just because I was exuding more energy than I had in days, so I shook it off and continued down the street. I wish I could keep describing the next couple hours but they’re completely erased from my memory.

I told Caroline I remembered putting shorts in a bag vaguely realizing that they were forcing me to go to the hospital in Kampala, but not really knowing why? I remember no moments from the first hospital and I remember some from the second. Memory seemed to fade in and out until I finally gained coherency once we were in our hospital room. One needle turned into four as they struggled to get the canula in, and keep it in. Up there with islands and ladybugs, needles are probably one of my biggest fears, so you can only imagine my hysteria. No you probably couldn’t. Only my rock star of a best friend could as she held my hand as if I were giving birth or something. I mean really I think her hand was turning purple as she told me I could squeeze it as hard as I wanted when the needle entered my skin, and I did nothing to hesitate, taking full advantage of her gesture.

As I write these words and think about the past couple days, they were nothing short of awful. I mean hospitals are already bad enough and even worse in a third world country and maybe even worse when you have parasites in your brain. But Caroline made me laugh. She reminded me of God through the pain. She showed me Jesus through my tears. Oh how I thank Yahweh for Caroline's heart being as open and big as it is for through that I never, I mean never seize to see the love of the Lord. She exudes that. She chooses joy. And she reminds me to do the same. 

You know how people say in college to never room with your best friend? Try living and breathing every moment of your day with yours. Seems awful, yeah? Seems maybe emotionally exhausting? Possibly fight provoking, even? Well with my best friend? Well with Caroline it's different. Getting the opportunity to spend every day in my favorite place in the world with one of the most wonderful people I know could make me nothing less than so incredibly blessed. But wanna know another reason?

It's the days when I can't seem to sleep because of my insomnia and she keeps her weary eyes open for me. 

It's the mornings when I wake up and don't want to seek the Lord as well as the day before, but that's all she encourages me to do.

It's the nights when she drags me to the hospital two hours away because my simple malaria has turned cerebral...when she holds my hand during every IV, every blown canula, every dose of my awful drip, and yells at the doctors to get it right on the first try so they wouldn't have to keep poking and prodding.

And it's especially in those extra horrible moments when all you want to do is run, and she grabs onto me to fill me with an overflow of prayer. And not just a “Dear Jesus” kind of prayer but rather a, let’s go cry for hours at how faithful the creator of the Universe is, prayer. One that makes you want to fall on the cross, when you’ve already just fallen on your face.

Not to start a fight or anything, but my best friend is better than yours…and that’s because my best friend offers me wisdom from the red letters in our favorite book. That’s because she doesn’t just hold me when comforting me, she lavishly clothes me in prayer. That’s because she wakes up at 2am every night to give me the medicine that essentially, saved my life. That’s because she gives me grace. And she continues to give me grace when I don’t deserve it, because God gives us grace when we’ve never deserved it. When I think about the best representation of God’s love I immediately think of Jesus. And when I think about the second? Caroline.

Thank you God, for giving me this sister whom I now consider my own flesh. Please teach me to love others because YOU loved us first. And teach me how to give YOU the glory at the end of the day…and praise YOU in every storm; in every valley. Center my heart directly on YOUR will and not Kelsey’s. Teach me to give my days, every day, to YOU. And God thanks for healing me. Thanks for comforting me. Just really thanks for Your Son. The one you sacrificed for my ungracious heart because you love us too much.

Gosh tonight I just close my eyes feeling so dang blessed.

Peace and love, my friends; my family. The same thing, really.

Kelsey

HE is working. HIS plan is perfect.

George and her boys

Kels and I with Jamiel and Jane

Beautiful sunset on an island on Lake Victoria

Wow, it has been so long since I have blogged. When I look at my last post and think about all that has happened in between, I get a little anxious, realizing that there is no way on earth I can sum up the past month in a blog post. As I sit in our room, recollecting on my past three months in this place I now call home, it brings me to tears to think of all the ways the Lord has changed my heart and taught me more about His people, His children, and even my own self.

One of my dear best friends wrote me a letter recently and requested that Kelsey and I talk about what a typical day looks like at Ekisa. So here is the low-down of what goes on in this incredible place.

The children wake up around 6:30-7 and the volunteers usually wake up around 8ish. In the mornings we focus on chores that need to be done around the house: helping the mamas with laundry, cleaning out the fridge, doing medical stuff, organize crafts and toys, etc. Lunchtime is around noon and we typically help feed the kiddos that can’t eat by themselves. After lunch is naptime, from 1-3, in which we either hang out and rest at the house or go into town by taking a boda (motorcycle) and eat lunch or do grocery shopping (go to market). After naptime, we have intentional time with the kids. We are assigned a different child each day to spend one-on-one time with to make them feel special. Sometimes in this part of the day we will take a couple kids to town to get a soda and sweetie (candy). They LOVE going into town and wearing their smart clothes for all to see. Also, the boda ride is always a hit. Dinnertime is around 6 and then they bathe and we all hang out in the living room from 7-8, which is always mass chaos but my favorite part of the day. The kids go to bed at 8 and we go around and give them all kisses and usually snuggle a bit. After they are in bed, we make dinner and usually just watch a movie and hang out. Mondays we have worship night and Wednesdays we have Biblestudy with the other young missionaries in Jinja.

That’s kinda the run down of what our typical days look like. This past month there has been so much change. At one point, there were 7 girls living in the volunteer room, and now there are just three. We have had to say “goodbye” to some of our closest friends that share this bond with us, that truly no one else will understand fully like they do. Dynamics change when people leave, and Kelsey and I have been working to adjust to that. While change is uncomfortable, we have to realize that the Lord is causing this uncomfortable season of our time here for such a specific purpose. The past two weeks of our close friends being gone I have learned more about myself and my own heart than I probably ever have in my life. The Lord continues to break me and change me into the woman of God HE wants me to be, not the woman of God I think I am or I think I need to be. I have realized so many areas of my life I thought I had “all together” now laying at the feet of the cross as the Lord has convicted me of my own pride and selfishness. As scary and hard as it is, I continue asking for this brokenness. For in the brokenness, my Jesus is closest and His arms are holding me tightest. One of the things I hoped to learn as I came to Africa is to completely rely on the Lord in each waking moment of my day. I could easily wake up each day and wallow in my self pity and dwell on the brokenness and hurt in my heart, or instead I can bring it to the foot of the cross where I only see the face of my Savior and no longer can see my brokenness anymore. That is where I want to be. Seeing His face each day, each moment instead of dwelling in my own problems that He has already put aside and forgotten about. I am on this earth to bring my loving Savior glory and praise and I cannot do that when I am focusing on my own heart.

Our Dad is SOVEREIGN, POWERFUL, LOVING, PERFECT, COMPASSIONATE, JOYOUS, PATIENT, KIND, SELFLESS, HUMBLE, GRACIOUS, MERCIFUL, ALMIGHTY, CREATOR, LOVER OF MY SOUL. The list could go on and on until the end of time. Be encouraged by that today. That even though things in life seem so earth shattering and its seems like things will never be good again, HE IS WORKING and His timing and plan are perfect. He’s got it, so you don’t have to.

-Care

He Is Proud.

"Has it crossed your mind that I am proud you accepted the gift of faith I offered you? Proud that you freely chose Me, after I had chosen you, as your friend and Lord? Proud that, with all your warts and wrinkles, you haven't given up? Proud that you believe in Me enough to try again and again? Are you aware how I appreciate you for wanting Me? I want you to know how grateful I am when you pause to smile and comfort a child who has lost her way. I am grateful for the hours you devote to learning more about Me; for the word of encouragement you passed on to your burnt-out pastor; for your visit to the shut-in; for your tears for the retarded. What you did to them, you did to Me. Alas, I am sad when you do not believe that I have totally forgiven you or you feel uncomfortable approaching Me."

 -Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel

And it hits me all the same as I read this passage for about the 30th time. He's...proud? The creator of the universe...my Abba Father....the Beginning and End is proud...of ME?

No no, NO NO NO way is this right. This isn't the case. This can't be...can it? As I weave in and out of the days circulating down to just one more month here in Jinja, I hear the bold whisper of,

"COME BACK TO ME!"

...and I shut Him out. 

"COME BACK TO ME, MY CHILD! Beloved, please. I'm proud of YOU! You're forgiven. Love keeps no record of wrongs, my sweet. I have forgotten all of your blemishes because I just want you in all of your brokenness; in all of your sin. I just want you back."

...and still I drown Him out.

Because who wants to believe that someone so big and so capable of holding the whole entire world could love me through me own pride. Could be PROUD of me through my own pride. Can't seem possible. It isn't. It can't be.

But it is.

As Caroline asks me what I want out of my next month here in Africa with her, I can only think of how much more time I want with my Father. I know that some days I wake up only to just block Him out again…sometimes I’m too afraid to come to Him because I know I’m transparent when it comes to my Daddy and I know that sometimes my intentions aren’t always sincere. But He doesn’t care. And He doesn’t care because He knows the depths of my heart and He knows that way down deep I want Him; I desire to know Him. And that is because I made the decision to follow Him and that is because I sacrificed so very little after He sacrificed so much. And yet He looks at me, every little scar and says,

“Kels…it’s you I’m proud of”

And it’s honestly that phrase that makes me never want to shut Him out. It’s the cross that today I’m so much more attentive to that I just only want to weep at. Sometimes we feel as though we must have this raging passion every day to spend time with our Dad. And when it’s not there, and the mountains are out of sight because were so lowly in the dirt, we pray for direction. We pray for the passion and the fire to return, but today that’s not what I pray for because today I remember that I am only flesh. So today I pray that even when it’s not my deepest desire to follow Him to my tree or follow Him to the cross…that I will anyway. And that each day whether it be a sprint to Him or walking with a crutch-that I will seek Him. And that He will teach me how to love Him better, and love Him most, and love Him first.

It’s crazy to think that sometimes when I wake up not wanting Him as crazy as He wants me that He’s still proud. He’s still yearning. And He’s still there. If only we could all see how proud He is of us. For taking the step only…and letting Him lead us into freedom.

Something painful was brought to my attention and while I won’t mention specifics I will sink knee deep in the sand. Lord that you will take this pain and take hold of the inflictor’s hearts and my own and weave them BOTH closer to You.

And to continue on with the spontaneity of this writing I will end on an even more sporadic note of asking if you guys are stuck on Friday? Are you stuck so far deep into the crucifixion that you have forgotten the cross? That you have forgotten that the tomb has been closed but the resurrection has occurred? Well if your answer is yes than your empathetic heart can match mine as I am yelling for any subtle reminder that I am no longer nailed down to my sin; that I am FORGIVEN. And so are you.

Writing this has made me thirsty so as I drink up His word and drink some water from my camelback to my right I pray for you, my friends and family, and pray that you would know that this freedom He talks about is reoccurring and new and that no matter what you do and who you disappoint…He is proud of you. He is so dang proud.


Peace and love my friends,
Kelsey