Bacon Bits.

 The absolute love of my life, Zak.

 Modeling, at the hospital. Naturally.

My bestest friend in the whole wide world.

One week. A lot can happen in one week. A trek up Mt. Kilimanjaro can happen. A little (or in my case a bit bigger) case of malaria can rid out of your brain in a week. A marathon of every episode of Lizzie McGuire can happen…wait…scratch that. HEHE. But for us? In one week we’ll be home. The days will fly and next Wednesday we’ll be getting on the plane to start our 28-hour journey back to the States. I wish I could say it was bittersweet, but as anxiety consumes me, I must only be honest.

Uganda is my home, now. You ask me where I live and I will tell you Norman, Oklahoma, but you ask me where my heart is? Every time I will respond with Jinja. It’s not much you can explain without seeing it, living it, breathing it. It’s not much you can understand without waking up with dirty feet and going to bed in the same way. It’s just not much I can say without tiring my voice and my hands realizing you just won’t ever know. Pictures can give you contours of people’s faces, and a basic idea of what something or someone looks like…but living somewhere? Breathing in the same musky air every day? That takes literally digging into the soil and that takes spending maybe just only one hour with our wonderful kids.

Translucency spilling every where as I truly am so excited to see my friends; my family. But transparency overriding it with the realization that I will be leaving my heart behind, and though you may want me whole-there’s going to be something missing. But what I’ve realized? That’s okay. I am never a whole person on my own, anyway. And looking at myself, I mean really getting a physical representation of the shape of my own face, I realize that I am broken. That I am only half whole. And that is because my heart will be left as soon as my body is on that plane home, but the other part is the realization that we are all left un-whole without Jesus. We are all just bacon bits, broken bits, without Him. Just all the more reason to run head over heels after our Dad, in my opinion.

Care and I express anxiety in returning home because our views have changed and our hearts are different. But peace settles in shortly after, in the realization that yes, we were meant to be here in Uganda for the past four months, but just as God ordained us to be on the plane here, so has he orchestrated us to come back home. And in order to come back, you must leave any way.

So as the week dwindles down, and nausea begins to set in, I will take in the words of my best friend saying, “Kels, it’s all gunna be okay”, and snatch the words of my Saviour saying, “Do not fear, for I am with you”, and I just know our anxious hearts will turn dim in realization that we are still, exactly in the center of God’s will for our lives. And now instead of feeling saddened by the fact that we are leaving so soon, we can have joy in the fact that we were simply even sent. And if and when it is God’s will…I know I’ll be back, maybe even side by side with my best friend once more, chasing even more ravishly after the cross.


Peace and love and even more love,
Kelsey