Drowning in Details

It's funny how I've been anticipating a return to Uganda for so many months and yet with my (hopeful and currently unofficial) departure just 2 weeks away, it seems to have snuck up on me! Now is the logical time to start freaking out. In the next 14 days, I will move back to Maryland from Philadelphia, celebrate Christmas with my family, pack my belongings into a few trunks, and jet off to Africa. All of this depends upon a lot of details falling into place--being able to actually get a plane ticket to Kenya, another one to Zanzibar, another one back to Kenya, and a fourth one to Uganda from there. I need to figure out how I will get 3 trunks on a flight that only allows one checked bag per person. And the official green light from WHM to purchase said tickets. Oy vey. Thinking about it makes me clench my teeth.

Sometimes I wonder why my departures always seem to be last-minute and frazzled chaos. No matter how well-planned a departure may be, I know it usually involves some stress. But it seems with every time I leave the country, it becomes a little more crazy! Here's the thing though: God's got my back. He's got the details. He knows if it is best for me to spend time with the singles on my team in Zanzibar before re-entering in Bundibugyo. And above all, He loves me.

As I drove through Philly this morning, trying not to fret over details and envision the 478 possible ways all of this could go, I realized something. I still don't believe that He loves me. That's what it always comes down to. I think that if I can troubleshoot, plan, and control every detail of my life, it'll turn out better. I stop believing that God loves me and start trying to do things on my own. I doubt that He wants what is best for me and His timing is always right.

So this afternoon as I start the process of packing up my life in Philadelphia and moving towards the next phase, I keep reminding myself "He loves me. And He's got control over every detail." My prayer is that this truth will free me to stop spinning and fretting and instead to focus in on my Rescuing Father, who will save me from drowning in the details.

Manna for Today

"Do not forget that he led you through the great and terrifying wilderness with its poisonous snakes and scorpions, where it was so hot and dry. He gave you water from the rock! He fed you with manna in the wilderness, a food unknown to your ancestors. He did this to humble you and test you for your own good. He did all this so you would never say to yourself, ‘I have achieved this wealth with my own strength and energy.’" Deuteronomy 8:15-17 (NLT)

This passage has recently struck me as one of those "Whoa! Was that always there?" scriptures. My mother, who is a wise woman, has often encouraged me with the phrase "today's manna for today". As someone who could win awards for worrying about tomorrow (and the next day and the next year), I regularly need to hear this.

Right now is one of those times. Stress and anxiety levels are high. I generally try to shove those thoughts into the back corner of my mind, denying their existence. But they are relentless.

They are legitimate concerns. Both my dad and grandmother had surgery today. My dad's was pretty minor and outpatient. My grandmother's was to remove colon cancer. My mom is waiting on biopsy results from her thyroid. If you know my story, you know why that has me nervous. I'm waiting on results from my sleep study that will determine whether we've found the reason for the fatigue that has been hanging on. I'm tired of being tired. It's been over a year now. And potential transition looms on the horizon. Good transition. Exciting transition. But change nonetheless. And I'm afraid. Afraid to buy plane tickets. Unable to commit until I talk with my doctor. Afraid to really grasp the reality of going back to Uganda until I'm on the plane and it is actually happening.

I long for the ability to plan, to commit, to be sure. But God is saying no to that right now. Instead, he is asking me to be like the Israelites. To rely on him everyday for water in the desert, manna in the morning. Unfortunately, I'm a lot more like the Israelites than I care to admit. I whine and complain. Why can't I be more self-sufficient? I'm tired of manna. I want to be able to do this stuff on my own. I want to see the Promised Land. I'm sick of wandering around in the wilderness. I want to be able to pat myself on the back and say "Good job. That's quite an achievement you've made. You sure are strong."

And so while I may be whining, even kicking and screaming, I'm reminded again today to be thankful for today's manna. To stop wishing for manna that would last for months. To humble myself and cry out to my Abba, "I need help just to make it through today! I literally don't have the strength or energy to do it on my own. The future still seems like a big question mark and it still freaks me out. But you will provide. Help me to remember your provision in the past, even in the desert times."

Hidden Blessings

Thanksgiving has always been a time of reflection (and gluttony) for me. This year I spent Thanksgiving surrounded by family, which was a true blessing. And yet, I've found it tricky this year to come up with that list of "I'm thankful for..." To be entirely honest, this year wasn't so stellar. It included a lot of disappointment, tears, and yucky stuff. As my dear brother has so eloquently put it, "2011 can suck it." Agreed.

And yet, when forced to sit down and really think about it, for every miserable occurrence of this year, a blessing appears as well. It may sound trite and there were many times this year that the above sentence would have sounded hollow and untrue. But, it is true. And that is what I'm thankful for this year.

Also, I'm thankful for pecan pie. And not having to pluck my turkey dinner this year. And being so excited to see Christmas lights on houses. Okay--I'll stop there :)

Mental Obstruction

First of all, many thanks to Heidi for the inspiration for this post, which I received from her awesomely titled post, “Brain Constipation”. I can now say we no longer have an exclusively online relationship since we met a few weeks ago and I’m thinking we have a lot in common.
As an introvert who is good at bottling up feelings and putting on a happy face, I often struggle with the very scientifically-termed condition of brain constipation. I think we all have those moments when life is just too much to process all at once, so we file it away for later. The problem is when we never access those files again, and they come back at most inopportune times.
Take, for example, today. The last several weeks have been stressful for me for many reasons, a few of which I’ll list later. I kept going and pasted on a decently normal face. And who would have guessed it’d all hit me in the Louisville Airport of all places? I had seen Ginny off on her flight and had 5 hours to kill before mine took off. I camped out in Starbucks and maybe it was the magical mix of grogginess from the early morning and the caffeine I was ingesting, but I was suddenly totally bogged down. Weighed down by emotions, confusion, and fears.
Just a few of them (to rid the cerebral back-up):

• the doctor appointment I had last week that was inconclusive at best; my endocrinologist telling me she won’t be seeing me again until next August (at which point, I’ll have to return from Uganda and withdraw from my meds and do the low-iodine diet again—can’t say I’m looking forward to that) and that my thyroid is not to blame for my recent fatigue
• the total freak-out I allowed myself after leaving her office; major PTSD going on here. The last time I felt fatigued and went looking for a cause, I found cancer and ended up putting my life on hold for 8 months. Fearing that I’ll never get back to Bundibugyo, that I’ll never be well, that getting a sleep study done soon is impossible, that I’m just some kind of crazy hypochondriac.
• the loneliness I’ve felt keenly the last few weeks; the desire to have that someone to support me through these difficult moments and vice versa; someone to do life with (sure, I know God can fulfill that desire but when surrounded by couples and realizing the disheartening male-female ratio in missions, discouragement can quickly set in)
• being confronted once again by the huge needs of a broken and groaning world at the GMHC. Surrounded by young nurses and med students, I felt entirely inadequate and missing the idealism that was taken away too early, in my opinion. I felt more like the walking wounded, overwhelmed by the many suggested ways of relieving just a bit of the pain in our world, of which I’ve had just a tiny taste.
• the nagging sense that I am the worst missionary candidate on God’s green earth—a marred health history, one who struggles with depression/anxiety, loves Chic-fil-a and Dr. Pepper and can’t seem the get the truth of the gospel through her own hard heart.

The list could go on. But you don’t need the see all that is happening in the cracks and crevices of my brain—that’s a scary place for sure…ha! The point is, as I sat in that Starbucks, alone and burdened, scared and confused, God led me to Paul Miller’s book, A Praying Life. I had downloaded it months ago on my iPad for free and never got around to reading it. And in an attempt at distraction, I started reading.
What an encouragement! Like, whoa. The basic message of the first few chapters is that God wants you to come to Him as you are. Sure, I’ve heard that 100 times before. But as I sat there reading, overwhelmed by the messiness of my heart and life, it meant something new. He writes, “The criteria for coming to Jesus is weariness. Come overwhelmed with life. Come with your wandering mind. Come messy…So instead of being paralyzed by who you are, begin with who you are. That’s how the gospel works. God begins with you. It’s a little scary because you are messed up.”
What freedom and joy can be found in knowing that God wants me to come—messy, weary, and overwhelmed. I also listened to my Sonship lecture in the airport and heard about how as you grow in the faith, your view of your sin expands and you see just how sinful you are. But along with that, should come a cross that grows bigger and a God who loves more and whose grace abounds.
I have asked God to reveal my sin to me, since I often think I’m a pretty okay person. I’m not a serial killer, heck, I don’t even have a tattoo (note the sarcasm, please :) I’m a missionary. That’s gotta count for something, right? Not necesssarily. While the Holy Spirit has been faithful in answering my prayer to show me my sin, I’ve become bogged down in it, overwhelmed by it, scared. But as I read Paul Miller’s book and listened to Sonship today, I remembered that my Father’s love and grace abounds and that He invites me to come and chat with him, telling him about all my issues because I’m messed up.

Money Plea

I am not ashamed to ask for money--particularly for worthy ministries in Bundibugyo. You can read more about the immediate needs for Christ School and how to give by clicking on this link. Please prayerfully consider how God might have you help in this situation. Thanks!

Next Stop...ECHO!

So...step back into that time machine, if you please. And the next stop is ECHO in Fort Myers, FL. ECHO stands for Educational Concerns for Hunger Organization and I attended their HACC (Heath, Agriculture, Culture and Community--enough with the acronyms, right?) course at the beginning of October.

I was there for a week with about 12 other students. We were taught by Dr. Fountain, a surgeon that lived and worked in Congo for around 35 years. He established a sustainable community health system in the bush of Africa--not a small thing! At times it was overwhelming to listen to his stories and figure out how to apply them to my 2 short years in Uganda with my lack of formal medical training. But, I certainly learned a lot. And the thing that shocked me most of all? My favorite part of the day was always in the afternoons when we spent time out on the farm.

I guess God has a funny sense of humor in this area of my life. As someone who loves cities and the urban lifestyle, I find it pretty hilarious that God sends me to the remote jungle of Bundibugyo and then develops in me an uncharacteristic interest in agriculture. Weird. But good. The science of agriculture was fascinating and seeing how God gifts people with innovative minds that can make amazing technologies out of simple materials was incredible. I'm so excited to return to Uganda with some of my new found knowledge and passion for gardening (and the huge value it has in development!).

I'll leave the rest of the explanations up to photos and their captions: Enjoy a little photo tour of my time at ECHO!

Who would've guessed that wine corks can be recycled as mulch? Useful information :)

Cranberry hibiscus was one of my favorite plants--delicious leaves add a little tang to the traditional salad!

Definitely a fan of using unorthodox items as planters...

A great interpretation of the tippy-tap; all you need is a stick, a bottle with a hole in the top, soap, and some string. Tap the stick, the bottle tilts down, and you've practically got running water!

These goats were the highlight of my week. They were hilarious and quite verbal.

 Moringa--the miracle tree. Below you'll see just two reasons why it is awesome.

Yes, with one moringa seed you can treat 1 liter of water--turning it from what you see on the left to the right!

An incredibly simple but effective drip irrigation system using just a bucket and drip tape. I want one!

 There were lots of plants that reminded me of "home"--above are cassava leaves (which look a whole lot like marijuana when they are young, small sprouts, ha!)

Banana tree

Bamboo galore!

Giant elephant leaves

And papayas were everywhere!

A water filtration system made out of PVC pipe, sand, and a trashcan. Amazing!

A treadle pump that uses your leg  muscles to pump away...

 Energy efficient cook stoves (I think it said that cooking over an open fire in a hut is like the equivalent of smoking 2 packs of cigarettes a day!)

Handmade tools using supplies that were available.

ECHO was great and despite all my moaning about heat and humidity while I was there (it was 90 in October), I am ready to return to the warmer climate after our first snowstorm here in Philly!

One Year Anniversary

While I was in Colorado, the one year anniversary of my arrival to Bundibugyo came and went. I’m pretty sure if you had told me on September 29, 2010 what the following year would hold, I would have been far from convinced.

I wouldn’t have believed that I would be sick most of the 6 months I spent in Uganda. I wouldn’t have believed that after exhausting the medical resources there, I would return to the U.S. for a (1 month) medical leave. I wouldn’t have believed that 2 months later, I’d be diagnosed with thyroid cancer. I wouldn’t have believed that by September 29, 2011, I’d have had two surgeries and a radioactive iodine treatment and spent a total of 6 months in the U.S.

Despite my bent towards desiring to know and attempting to control the future, I think God clearly knows best and it is a good thing I didn’t know what this past year would hold. His grace is present, even in the not-knowing.

I still have a lot of questions about the last 12 months. I certainly don’t understand a lot about it and the big “Why?” questions will probably only be answered in Glory. My life has returned to some level of stasis but the moments of grief and loneliness occasionally resurface. God is already showing me ways that he is redeeming my suffering and I have hope that those will only continue to abound as the years pass by.

I’m learning to plan my life in chunks of weeks (and maybe months) but certainly not a year at a time. Cancer does that. I don’t know if my scan a year from now will be clear or not. But, I’m finding the freedom that comes from living in the now and hoping that my receptivity to the Holy Spirit will follow from it as well.

A passage that I shared with my home church when reflecting on the past year is Lamentations 3:13, 19-22. It says:

“He shot his arrows deep into my heart. The thought of my suffering and hopelessness is bitter beyond words. I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over my loss. Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: the unfailing love of the Lord never ends! By his mercies we have been kept from complete destruction.”

“Daring to hope” has become a new phrase of meaning for me. Sometimes hoping seems crazier than despairing. But when I remember the neverending love of my Lord, He gives me the strength required to dare to hope.

Step into my time machine!

Blog posts have been popping up in my mind for the last month or so but with all of the travel I’ve been doing, they were filed away. Now that I’ve landed in one spot for a while, they can be shared!

So I’m going backwards and I think the first thing I’d like to write about is a little side-trip I took in Colorado when vacationing there with my parents in September. It’s crazy how God works these things out. I won’t go into every detail, but over a year ago as I was going to pre-field training in Colorado, someone introduced me to Light Gives Heat (www.lightgivesheat.org). I visited their website, thought it was cool that they were working in Uganda, bought some necklaces as gifts. The End.

Or not. When I got back from Uganda, I remembered LGH and after ordering something else from their website, I noticed that their return address was Grand Junction, CO—not far from where we’d be vacationing. So I took a totally random thought and emailed it; I told my story and asked if I could come visit when I was in the area.

God worked the rest of the details out and I was able to spend a day at the LGH offices in Colorado. It was a great time of encouragement, just being around people that had a connection to Uganda. It was awesome to see their behind-the-scenes operations and to see the heart that the Houslows (the founders) have for Uganda.

Here are some photos:

A peek at the “warehouse”

With Morgan

Dave and Morgan, the founders of LGH.

Above all else, my visit to LGH’s headquarters made me want to peddle their wares! This is a great organization that provides  vulnerable Ugandan women with meaningful work (designing and making jewelry/handbags) and a steady source of income (if you buy jewelry or a handbag, the money goes back to the women). So—pretty please, check out their website. And think of Christmas gifts!

Nomad again

I just wrote a post and my iPad deleted it. Boo to technology. Try, try again. Also, sorry for the lack of spacing--iPads may be smart but they must not know how to work with blogger formatting. Anyway....... It is a bit ridiculous that it has been a month since I last wrote a blog post. But I have a decent excuse, I think. For the last month, I have been traveling non-stop and I am writing this in an airport even now. This nomadic lifestyle is what I craved and wished for this summer as I rotated between my bed and the couch at my parents' house. I often wondered if I would get to travel again. Thank you Jesus for making me well enough to be a nomad again! Anyway, 4 weeks of continuous movement have made blog updates low on the priority list. But, I've done some fun and interesting things so I will give you a month in review below. I promise to add photos later, which will make this much more interesting :)

Stop 1: Elysburg, PA with my parents and sister's family to visit Knoebels, an amusement park our family has visited since my Mom was a kid. It was fun to see the park through the eyes of my little nieces and nephews and to ride some of the classics too. Highlights: the haunted house with my Dad and the Flyers with my sister.

Stop 2: 24 hours in Maryland followed by a week in Philly at the WHM sending center. Working on Christ School sponsorships and updating some highly confusing and out of date records (Uganda tends to do that to record-keeping). Also helping with the recruting department and enjoying community. Weekend highlights: attending Jesus, Bombs, and Ice Cream (google it) with co-workers and cooking Ugandan food with a co-worker and friend. Both yummy events!

Stop 3 and 4: 24 hours in MD for a doctor appointment, a weekend in Philly for the WHM picnic and church, another 24 hours in MD, and then to Virginia to visit my future teammate Pamrla Stephens! 3 days with her included lots of chatting, a visit to the zoo (and dancing with a flirtatious monkey), and a fantasti. Avett Brothers concert. Answering her questions with my little bit of Bundi knowledge was a boost and being with people that are going or have been there is always an encouragement. For pictures from my visit with Pamela, visit her blog here. Pamela is just one more reason I am excited to get back to Uganda--she arrived there today!

Stop 5: A full 48 hours in Maryland (!) followed by a long-awaited vacation to Colorado with my parents. It was gorgeous as I think that state always is but the aspen trees were all bright yellow and breathtaking. Personal highlights: having the physical strength to take an all day hike and seeing amazing views and fulfilling my dream of going horesback-riding in the Rockies!

at Pike's Peak

beautiful aspen trees were changing color!

with our wonderful hosts, Al and Marty!

Stop 6: Three days in MD to pack up and move to Philadelphia for the next three months to work out of the office until I return to Uganda in January. I have spent the last week here in Philly and have enjoyed settling in, getting remarkably lost downtown, and then triumphing the next night in my attempt to attend a small group downtown!

Stop 7: I am now in the airport at Charlotte, NC waiting for my connecting flight to Fort Myers, FL. That will take me to ECHO (www.echonet.org) where I will attend a week long class about integrating agriculture into community health in 3rd world settings. I'm hopped up on sudafed (fighting a cold) and coffee and ready to go! 2 months ago, I didn't know if I would be able to travel again, let alone move back to Bundibugyo. But God is proving himself faithful--he didn't call me to Uganda and missions work just to say "Never mind." And even if he had, I believe he is still loving and good. As I look forward to eventually returning to Bundi and it seems more real as I feel better each day, I pray that God will use my experience for good--to change my heart, to give me new compassion for those that are hurting, and to understand the desperation that comes with living in a broken world. I hope ECHO is just one practical way for me to implement the myriad of things I've learned here in the U.S.

One of Those Days

Today has just been one of those days. It actually started yesterday when I had trouble falling asleep (which I’ve had way too much experience with the last few months). I woke up this morning, tired, groggy, joints achy. My hair was misbehaving and everything I tried on looked wrong. My brain fog kicked in and it took me over an hour just to get ready. I totally forgot to pack a lunch. I was running late and as I gathered my stuff up, I noticed my bright orange cell phone holder, which is conveniently attached to my keys.

Apparently noticing it was not enough to actually make it get into my bag. I ran downstairs, firmly shut the locked door, and hoped that I had remembered everything I’d need for the day. (Yeah, right) Got to my car—no keys in the bag. What?! This must just be “purse panic” and they’re buried somewhere in my bag. Nope. I emptied my bag out onto my car hood twice. No keys. No cell phone. Locked door. Quite a conundrum, right?

I remembered that my Dad had put a magnetic key case under my front bumper somewhere when I first bought my car at age 16. It’s been 6 years and I never needed it. Now can I remember where it is? If anyone was watching from their home window, I’m sure it was quite a sight. I’m in a skirt, crawling around my car, looking underneath, praying that little black box will show up and save me.

I don’t see it and I give up for a few minutes, sitting on the curb, looking equally ridiculous. Should I knock on a neighbor’s door and ask for help? Should I just start walking to the office? Should I just hang out on the Barnette’s back porch all day? Thankfully my “can do”-Africa personality came through (and the Holy Spirit helped too) as I wracked my brain for where that key case was supposed to be. I decided to get my hands dirty and start feeling around underneath the front bumper of the car.

Lo and behold, I felt a little plastic box and after yanking on it—found it to be the box of my salvation (just kidding; nothing heretical here)! Again, if anyone was watching or listening, I’m sure they were entertained as I did a little dance in the street and yelled “Thank you Jesus!”.

A year ago, I’m pretty sure this morning would have set a frazzled and annoyed tone for the whole day. But perspective changes, thank goodness. Instead of panicking, I found myself praising Jesus for being with me in a sticky little predicament. I wasn’t particularly bothered by the whole thing because in the full realm, it’s not even a blip on the radar. Much worse things have happened. And I also found myself praising Jesus because the whole situation proved that I had begun living again. a) I had somewhere I need to be b) I had the energy to get out of bed and get there and c) stress is proof that you’re alive. If you have a completely stress-free life with no sticky situations, you are either not living, you’re in denial, or you have the most boring life ever.

So as strange as it may sound, today I am thankful for getting locked out of my car. For seeing a change in my perspective and for seeing life again. And of course—as I arrived triumphant at the sending center, the elevator refused to work  :)

Wishing for Omnipresence

If I could have a super power wish list, I’m pretty sure omnipresence would be high in the ranking. I’m highly skilled at not living in the moment and being discontent. I’ve learned that I am a future focused person, which can be channeled for good, but often leads to me fixating on “what ifs” and continual anticipation rather than joy in the moment. I’m also quite good at being discontent—aren’t we all? Whether it is over something as small as wishing you could indulge in a food craving or wanting an entirely different life, we all experience different moments and levels of discontentment.

Right now, I wish I could be about four places at once. Probably more if I had the option (I’ve always wanted to visit Greece and Morocco :) Anyway, of course I wish I was in Uganda with my team, serving and living that crazy lifestyle that makes most people cringe a little. I wish I was in Kenya, with Anna and Jessica right now, experiencing a new part of Africa but mostly just being with them. Right now I’m in Philly and I don’t want to leave, despite the appointment I have to be home for on Thursday. And no matter where I am in the world, I always have a wish in the back of my head to be in Maryland with my family.

I’m pretty sure a large part of being a missionary is learning to be okay with feeling torn between a lot of places. I think it certainly makes me look forward to glory in our True Home—a place with all who are in the body of Christ; a place of total contentment; a place without tears; a place with an omnipresent God.

Paradox Continues to Ring True

Today I sit in a Panera, on the outside looking much like a typical 20-something American. Earbuds in, listening to the Avett Brothers, wearing jeans, mascara, and flip flops with pedicured toes. I edit photos of my nieces and nephews that were taken a week ago at an amusement park—family tradition since before I was born. I peruse facebook and finally decide to look at some photos from the interns’ summer in Uganda. It hurts, like I thought it would. I download the most recent version of iTunes. Sipping iced coffee, chilly from the air conditioning and the cardigan goes on. I sit alone, ignored by the majority of white faces around me.

Rewind exactly 6 months. I walk along a dusty, bumpy road to the market. Sweaty and sticky, long skirt swishing, hoping for a breeze. Toes have dirt between them, heels so callused they laugh at the prospect of a pumice stone. I ignore the staring eyes, greet some fellow pedestrians and thank women carrying massive loads on their heads “Webhale milemo”. I expect the shouts of “Mzungu!”, “How are you? I am fine!”, and “I love you!” and practice selective listening. I leap out of the way of massive lorries barreling by—if they are speeding unsafely, I shout and wag my finger. I peek into Bahati’s shop to see if she is there; we chat. I enter the market, searching for green peppers, knowing it will be like looking for a needle in a haystack. I haggle, refusing to pay 25 cents for a shriveled little pepper.

Rewind another 6 months exactly. I move in a bit of a frenzy. I have about two weeks until I leave for a place I’ve never been. It’s got a great name though—Bundibugyo. Packing, frantic emails with lists of questions, trying to preserve memories with friends and family that can last for the next two years. Struggling to enjoy last moments in America, grieving good-byes, facing the total unknown. So busy I choose to ignore the dry mouth and trouble I’ve had swallowing lately. It’ll go away on its own.

I’m not sure what the scene will look like if I was to fast forward 6 months from now. I guess that’s something I’m learning—God guides my steps, even if they end up going in directions that I don’t expect, want, or to really painful places. And right now, each day is one step—where it takes me, I don’t know but I think it’ll be okay.

G-nut Sauce and Bodas

Okay…time for a little break from the attempts at spiritual thoughts while having trouble stringing words together to form sentences. It kind of feels like those nuclear medicine doctors snuck my brain out while I wasn’t looking. Supposedly my eloquence will return—we’ll see!

I’ve decided to go with a list post since I’ve always been a fan of them. And now that my brain is in a continual fog, they’ve become pretty imperative! So the list for today…drumroll please…

Things I Miss About Uganda

>groundnut sauce, Asita’s cabbage and Krest bitter lemon soda: Upon arrival back in the U.S., I wanted steak and seafood. The other night, I had my first Ugandan food craving—I miss that peanut sauce over rice, the smokey cabbage, and I could really go for a Krest :)

>boda rides: They terrified me the first couple of times but I miss hanging on the back of the motorcycle, wind through my hair, sun beating on my back, and watching the beautiful landscape whiz by. I even kind of miss the kiddos yelling “Mzungu!” from the side of the road.

>the mountains: I love Maryland and the beauty found in water (which is everywhere!) and long expanses of flat cornfields. But I miss the mountains of Bundi jutting up everywhere you look, catching a glimpse of them when the storm clouds roll back or the sun rises behind them. God’s majesty is undeniable!

>pizza night: I remember feeling sweaty, sticky with bug spray, and generally a little gross after most team pizza nights. A shower was a must before bed. But, they were awesome too! Pizza has never tasted so good or been so creative; I’ve been kind of disappointed by it here in the U.S. And of course the company was pretty great too :)

>Chuck and a gin and tonic: Yes, I’m a missionary who occasionally enjoys an “adult beverage” :) I will fully admit to loving the nights when Anna and I would make ourselves a little g & t and cozy up on the futon to watch Chuck. A mindless, cute, and addictive TV show about a regular guy turned special agent. Pure bliss.

>Singing in church: Once I could at least differentiate between Lubwisi and total gibberish, I had fun trying to sing along in church. It was a huge accomplishment to even follow along in the hymnal. I missed worshipping in English while there but I miss worshipping in Lubwisi with drums now.

>Friendly people everywhere you go: Sure, some people were a little more friendly than I would have liked (ex. Men shouting “Mzungu! I love you!” from the side of the road). And it was easy to be frustrated by the inability to go anywhere without talking to at least 10 people along the way, 10 more at your destination, and 10 more on the way back. Not exactly efficient. But, I hate how I can go to the store here in my car and come back without having spoken to anyone, if so desired. Of course, I don’t do that but I kind of miss the uber-friendly norm.

>The people: I could probably write 100 pages about this topic alone. My Ugandan friends. My team. The relationships that became my life and are now cut off by distance. I pray for them often and hope they know they are not forgotten!

I could keep going and going but I’ll stop here. Bundibugyo often feels very far away. But no matter what happens, it is a place that will always be close to my heart.

Future Praise

Cancer forces you to live in the present. Each day becomes a struggle for survival and not in a “Let’s all focus on our inner-strength, wear pretty ribbons, and talk about warm, fuzzy objects bringing us comfort” kind of way. Nope. Unfortunately, it’s a lot uglier than that. I didn’t know how horrific cancer was until it found its way into my body. And the “cure” is what often makes you feel worse than the cancer itself. At least, that is how it went in my case. (I’m continuing to learn that everyone’s story is so very unique—I’m just sharing mine :)

My muddled brain is trying really hard to get to the point. I guess the point is that I’m continuing to figure out what “cancer survival” is going to look like for me. Some days I just have to live entirely in the moment and focus on making my body move. Other days I dwell in the past and grieve the things that are forever lost (like what I pictured my 2 years in Uganda being). And other days I find hope in the fact that God is writing a truly amazing and beautiful story that has my name as the title—the chapter that is currently being written is full of craters and valleys and confusion. But a few chapters from now, there is the potential for beautiful flowers to spring up out of the craters. And I find hope in the future. Whatever it may hold.

Most days involve a little bit of all of the above. And lately my spirit has been a mess of confusion and mixed emotion. But I keep going to Psalm 13. Read it:

How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?
   How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I take counsel in my soul
   and have sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, O LORD my God;
light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,
lest my enemy say, "I have prevailed over him,"
   lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.

But I have trusted in your steadfast love;
   my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
I will sing to the LORD,
   because he has dealt bountifully with me.

Of course, my soul resonates with the “How long” phrasing. But the last few verses were what really got to me a few days ago. David uses the past tense when writing about trusting in God’s love and how God has been gracious to Him. And he uses the future tense when writing about praising God. That’s how I feel these days. I have trusted in God’s love and grace. I continue to trust in them—even when I ask “How long?”. I cannot fathom being without God’s steadfast love. But in this moment when I’m asking “How long?”, it’s okay to not feel like bursting into a praise song. I know the day will come when I feel like shouting His praise from the rooftops. But right now, I’m full of the “how long”-questions and not so full of praise and adoration. Thank goodness the rocks will cry out if necessary :)

David was kind of an exemplary guy in the Bible. Fully human—that’s for sure. I mean, really, with Bathsheba? But, he also did some great stuff for God’s kingdom and I’m pretty sure we’ll find him in heaven. So I think for now I’ll follow his example and be okay with asking “How long?” and know that praise will come eventually.

If my hypothyroid-brain-addled post was not quite enough for you—read this. It’ll be a little more eloquent and it also discusses Psalm 13 and suffering. Thanks Ed Welch!

A (Late) Summer Reading List

I can tell it’s been a while since I updated my blog because every 20 minutes, I find myself composing a blog post in my head. Or maybe that has more to do with the careening thyroid levels I currently have which has led to moments of bone-crushing exhaustion followed by near-manic episodes of energy and inspiration. Either way, in the last few days I’ve been writing down blog post ideas in a word document entitled “My Brain”. Another symptom of thyroid levels being all over the place is brain fog/difficulty concentrating and in my case difficulty formulating sentences. Words just leave me. So in an attempt to adapt, I’ve started the continuously open word document in which I can write down any and all things that I know will leave my brain in about 10 seconds—everything from questions for my doctor to blog post ideas to a shopping list.

I’m getting to a point. What was it again? Right—I’ve got a list of about 10 different blog post inspirations that have come to mind in the last 48 hours. We’ll see how many actually get written. My hope is to post every day this week; we’ll see!

For today, a reading list. Not required reading. Just a bunch of suggestions. I’ve found as a cancer patient that I’m stuck flat on my back more often than I’d like. TV gets boring but a new book is always helpful to pass the time and occupy the mind. I’ve had a wide variety of book suggestions and have read a ton of wonderful fiction novels in the last few months. But I’ve also had some great non-fiction finds; some were sent to me by loving friends, others were suggested, and some were just found along the way. Here’s a few…read them, send them to others you know who are suffering, or whatever!

A Shelter in the Time of Storm: Meditations on God and Trouble by Paul David Tripp

I’ve loved every short meditation in this book and on nights when picking up the Bible seemed too overwhelming, it brought me back to the gospel in a manageable way. Each meditation focuses on a verse from Psalm 27 and has two short questions at the end of the reading for reflection.

Hearing Jesus Speak into Your Sorrow by Nancy Guthrie

The author buried two of her children before they reached their first birthday due to a rare genetic disorder. She writes from the heart and is clearly understanding of suffering, soothing, and brings you back to the truth of the gospel and God’s love gently. I am looking forward to reading her other books.

Everything Changes: The Insider’s Guide to Cancer in Your 20’s and 30’s by Kairol Rosenthal

Super practical and reassuring for me. It validated many of my feelings and helped me feel a little more sane in my experience of having cancer as a young adult. A compilation of first-hand stories and helpful resources. She also has a blog which I love reading. If you’d like to read a little more about my current situation click on this link.

You Gotta Keep Dancin’ by Tim Hansel

An encouraging read—I’m only 1/2 way through it but since I read that 1/2 in one night, I think it gets the thumbs up. It brought perspective and hope to me in a dark time.

…and two on my personal “To-Read” list—Place of Healing: Wrestling with the Mysteries of Suffering, Pain, and God’s Sovereignty by Joni Eareckson Tada and Radical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream by David Platt. I’ll see how they are and let ya know!

I Think I’m Alive

I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. (Psalm 27:13)

I’ve never really felt this close to death before. I know intellectually that I am not going to die. But over the past few days, I’ve felt like I’ve got one foot in the grave. I guess I was a little overly optimistic going into my radioactive iodine treatment. I thought I’d take the pill, hang out in my room, and start feeling better as soon as I took that first synthroid pill. It’s been a little different than that.

I guess it makes sense to feel this terrible. Doctors have brought me as close to death as possible in order to kill any remaining cancer. My entire body was radiated for 2 days after spending 5 weeks without a thyroid and 2 surgeries before that. I guess that would make anyone feel a little crummy. But I think I was secretly hopeful that I would glide through this treatment into the picture of perfect health.

Instead, I sleep 12-14 hours a day. And when I’m awake the only things I can accomplish are: take a shower, brush teeth, eat, lay on the couch. The most basic things take astronomical energy. My mouth is dry and my saliva is thick (salivary glands also take up the radiation). Ironically, after 5 weeks of a basically salt-free diet, I have a continuously salty taste in my mouth. Immediately after my treatment, I enjoyed one meal of bliss. Which was awesome. Since then, I’ve been semi-nauseous off and on and my appetite has been slim. I was so worried about the 20 pounds I gained in Africa (which were awful, yes) but I’ve lost all of it and then some in the past weeks and months. I never thought I’d want to gain a little weight. My joints continue to ache but my hair seems to be falling out a little less.

I’ve been averaging about one emotional breakdown a day. Thank goodness I have a patient and loving mother. Depression is a symptom of hypothyroidism but I think it’s also an accumulation of months of struggle. It seems like I swing between being too tired to care, being angry, grieving, and attempting to hold onto hope.

There is a vague end in sight. My doctor told me “After 3 weeks on synthroid, you’ll feel better. After 6 weeks, you’ll feel normal.” Let’s hope it’s true. I’m also planning to receive some counsel for the emotional difficulty of this experience at my age.

I don’t write all of this because I want others to feel sorry for me. Or guilty because they’re healthy. In fact, I read a fantastic article about just that the other day. Read it here. You can always find someone worse off than you. But thank goodness God has an interest in every detail of our lives and a heart full of compassion, whether we’re dealing with cancer or wearing uncomfortable shoes that day.

Anyway, I write it for those of you who want to know how I’m really doing. And because it is easy to write vague entries that make me look strong and like the perfect, shining Christian through this dark trial. But I’m not. Right now, I feel like a shell of my former self. I know God will fill me in with better stuff in the long-run. But right now, it’s hard to wait. So pray for me. And pray that I would hang onto Psalm 27:13. I know I’m still in the land of the living, even if I don’t feel it. And I will see God’s goodness. My confidence waxes and wanes but He never does.

Moments of Lightness

I’m on Day 2 of in-home isolation! Once I hit the 48 hour mark, I am considered to have most radiation out of my system and can begin moving around more freely. And best of all, I am allowed to take my first synthroid dose tomorrow morning and start the climb towards good health again.

I’d like to say that the last 2 days I’ve spent thinking deep thoughts, processing my life, and praying a lot. Instead, I’ve mostly been sleeping and forcing myself to drink gallons of water (as prescribed). Not having a thyroid for over a month has left me with few coherent thoughts, nor the energy with which to think. Hopefully synthroid will change that soon. And while I’ve spent some time in reflection and chatting with my Father, I’ve also given myself the freedom to sleep and veg out on 30 Rock episodes.

I also have gone through some photos taken over the last few months. It is easy to be bitter about the months that have been “robbed” from me. Since I’ve been home for the last five months, very few days have been spent feeling healthy. But, again, I can make the choice to focus on that or I can focus on the blessings God has rained down despite my health. So with that, I give you some of the moments that have been flooded with light in the past few weeks and months via photos.

This was the first time I met my nephews, Sam and Elias. They were barely 2 pounds and were hooked up to all kinds of machines. I couldn’t enter their hospital room and had to “meet” them via closed circuit television.

This is their happy family today! What an answer to prayer and look at how much they’ve grown. They are two of my six sweetest blessings and I savor holding them so much.

My dearest friends from college came to visit me a few weeks ago. It was a sacrifice as they drove from Connecticut, New York, and Pennsylvania to see me and the 24 hours spent with them was the best medicine I could have had. These girls were my family and still are in many ways and the fact that we were all in the continental U.S. for 4 weeks was miraculous, let alone that we spent that weekend together!

Receiving packages in Bundi is always thrilling. But I never would have thought getting them here would be equally exciting! Emails and cards of encouragement have been pouring in, as well as the occasional care package. This one is from my friend, Kate, and it was filled to the brim with fun/funny stuff to do during my isolation. I’m holding my harmonica and bird origami (in case you were wondering :)

We also had our first family dinner, with all of our immediate family members under one roof, in 11 months. When I arrived back from Uganda, Rachel and the boys were still in the hospital. Then the boys had to stay at home for a few months to keep them safe from germs and illness. Last Sunday, we were all together for the first time since I had left the previous September. Here Addie and Micah entertain their cousin Sam :)

Elias is already used to the paparazzi, even in his sleep. A dignified reaction at a young age.

Uncle Tony was a big hit in the pool, particularly when he became Mr. Buckethead.

Proof that yes, I was there, as were Rachel and Ethan!

prayer needed update

Hello all,

Just got back from the hospital and would like your prayers. I arrived, planning to take my radioactive iodine pill and immediately enter into isolation at home. Instead, I was told that I had received false information from my doctors and that I would only be taking a tracer amount, receiving a scan tomorrow, and will schedule the actual therapeutic iodine dose for next week. Frustrated, angry, and devastated don’t begin to describe it. Not only is my TSH above 200 and continuing this low iodine diet gets harder with every meal, but it is mentally and emotionally devastating to not receive the treatment you entered the hospital to receive.

Pray that God will provide the perseverance I need and that a miracle would occur, allowing me to take the actual radioactive therapeutic dose pill soon (like tomorrow!).

Prayers appreciated,

Chrissy

Stream of Consciousness (or scattered thoughts)

Lately my mind has been scattered, at best. My body isn’t far behind as it takes more and more effort to make it through each day. But, as I spend more and more time on the couch, I am faced with countless choices. Do I try to quiet the din of confusion with a book or movie? Do I try to sift through the past 12 months of my life and make some sense of it all? Do I even know where to begin in processing the fact that I received a cancer diagnosis at age 22? Do I talk this through with my Father? Do I look to the future with hope or fear? Do I focus on the good prognosis or the current physical discomfort? Do I pray for my team in Bundibugyo and others I know around the world?

I’m currently reading a book called “Everything Changes” that was written by a thyroid cancer survivor who was diagnosed at age 27. It’s a book about having cancer in your 20s and 30s and I’ve been fascinated by the stories of young adult cancer patients and how they coped with their diagnosis and treatment. One thing is clear to me: I can’t imagine facing this without my Rescuing Abba Father.

This whole cancer thing is a lot uglier than I formerly realized and I’m not even going through chemo or a series of radiation. Along with the physical discomfort, the emotional toll is high. And there are times when I allow myself to be frustrated, angry, and take a moment to say “This sucks!” and throw a pity party for one. But thankfully, those moments are usually pretty short-lived and God gives me the grace I need to continue on in His strength.

Having a brush with my own mortality in my early 20s has allowed me to find the blessings that I can only credit my loving God with. In these moments of darkness, I search for tiny pinpricks of light. And I’ve never been let down. So while I sit on the couch today, I’m choosing to focus on those pinpricks rather than the overpowering dark tunnel. I know this time in my life has changed me forever. And my prayer is that I won’t forget to focus on the glimmer of His light when all else seems dark.

To Be

...I am, you are, he is, they are, we are....

Whenever learning another language, one of the first things I want to learn is how to conjugate the verb "to be". (Of course learning greetings and important vocab like 'bathroom' come before even this :) Knowing how to say "I am..." is one of the most basic phrases around and a whole lot can be built from it. My Spanish is rusty these days but I don't think I'll ever forget how to conjugate "ser" after having it hammered into my head for about 4 years.

In this time of waiting and allowing my health to purposely deteriorate in order to make it better in the long run, I'm re-learning what it means "to be". It's a lesson I've struggled to learn since forever, I think. And I'm sure this won't be the last time. But as someone who is much more concerned with the "to do" rather than the "to be", I struggle when I am forced to stop doing and be content with just being.

As a 20-something, I have an inner drive to do, to create, to work. And instead, my life has come to a screeching halt multiple times. Boo. But through it all, I'm learning that my Abba Father doesn't love me any less or approve of me any less because of my current inability to do. All He asks is for me to be; to be with Him and in Him. He is quite capable of doing it all without me. He is bringing His redemption and His kingdom no matter what. I find great peace in the knowledge that just "being" is all that God asks of me and whatever "doing" comes as a result is added blessing.

Romans 8:22-25

"We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently."

Adventure Planning

I'm less than a week post-op but today was spent planning adventures--some will come soon and others a bit later. To me, this is an important step in healing; finding hope in the future and making plans for adventures that are soon to come. My life has been nothing if not a roller coaster ride the last year or so. But, I like the idea of being able to choose a few of the exciting moments. Of course, I hold all my plans much more loosely than I used to. But a girl can dream!

Today I:

• booked tickets for ECHO, a agriculture and community development center in Florida, where I will spend a week in July.
• wrote out a "visionary document": a compilation of ideas and visions God has given me the last few months as I've prayed over how to best serve Him in Bundibugyo when I return.
• washed Ugandan fabrics I brought back with plans to make some special gifts in the near future.
• made a delicious fruit smoothie for lunch. Not future-oriented or even an adventure. But it was so yummy!
• priced motorcycle safety courses online. Yes, I am making plans to receive my Pennsylvania motorcycle license in September so I can learn the basics of driving a motorcycle on the crazy terrain of Uganda. I might have to cart in some goats and boulders so its a little less Philly and a little more Bundi. And yes, I know it's awesome to picture me driving a motorcycle.
• made an appointment to see my endocrinologist tomorrow. Pray for me as she tells me my final pathology report results and the plan of action for my care. I'm hoping that I won't need any nuclear medicine treatments but I have to wait and see what they found.

Thanks for praying me through this second surgery. God provided good nurses and better pain relief than the last go-round. And keep praying that I can embrace upcoming adventures outside of the health-care world!

Some Snaps & Water Needs

I am so thankful for the technology that keeps me in touch with my team in Bundibugyo. I love getting emails from them and reading their blogs and seeing pictures. Today when I read this and this, I was sad that I couldn't be there. As I grieve being so far from my African home and family and look ahead to another surgery tomorrow, my heart is heavy. I have so much to be thankful for--good medical care, treatable cancer, and a supportive family in my American home, just to mention a few.

So, while it is easy to focus on what I am missing out on and to dread the recovery ahead, I choose to post some pictures from the last few days. And to find joy in the place I am today!

Celebrating Father’s Day and my Dad’s birthday on Sunday. He had lots of help blowing out those candles and opening his gifts :)

Enjoying the bounty of fresh fruit available in Maryland in June. All hand-picked and truly delicious!

Celebrating my first attempt at homemade popsicles with some fresh fruit. I’m bringing the molds to Bundibugyo with me, Anna!

Our fancy new cherry pitter contraption. That’s a lotta pits.

Today as I started my washing machine, I thought of the team in Bundibugyo. Join me in praying for the water situation in our town there; water lines have been broken and the availability of water has been touch and go for weeks. Water is an essential for life and as people go to the river for water, water-borne diseases like cholera are a real possibility. Pray that clean water would be available to all soon!

Joy of Sending

With Sarah and Olvie, interns to Bundibugyo, before heading to the airport.

Sarah and Olvie with their 400 lbs of luggage, mostly filled with goodies for the team!

I spent last week in Philadelphia at the WHM Sending Center. I had been looking forward to this time for about 2 months and was not disappointed! Ever since I realized I would not be in Bundibugyo to serve as the intern coordinator (one of the parts of my job description I was most excited about), I decided I would plan everything around the intern orientation in Philly.

Having spent 3 summers overseas with 3 different organizations during college, being with interns is being in my element. Internships led to my decision to pursue a lifelong commitment to missions and it was so exciting to be a small part of these 13 interns' experiences. Who knows how God will use this summer in their life story!

I was blessed by many aspects of my week with them. It was remarkably therapeutic to be peppered with questions about Bundibugyo, rather than my health. Ranging from "What is the weirdest bug there?" to "What are the symptoms of sickle cell disease?" to "What are funny African English phrases they use?", I loved answering as best I could and being reminded of funny stories that had been temporarily forgotten. As I talked and laughed harder than I had in months, I was also reminded of my passion for Bundibugyo, its needs, and what God is doing there. It is humbling to be reminded yet again that He is working there in my absence. His kingdom is coming and it takes pressure off to remember that He can do it without me. It is an honor to be a small part of what He is doing as He redeems the whole of the groaning creation.

I also found unexpected joy in being a "sender". I loved being able to pray over several of the interns. What a privilege! I loved being able to share my own experiences and hear some of their stories too. I loved helping pack bags and I especially loved taking them to the airport. Literally every time I've gone to an airport, I've been the one flying somewhere. I had no idea how to park my car there. Ha! So it was not only something I needed to learn to do, but it was meaningful to wave good-bye to the Uganda interns as they entered security. (And I can't say I was terribly jealous of the 36 hours of travel ahead of them! I did, of course, wish I was with them to see the team and my Ugandan friends though.)

I left Philadelphia with renewed hope and eagerness for the future. Things I need as I go into surgery again this Thursday. God continues to bless me and whisper to me "I haven't abandoned you. I love you. I will take care of you. See how I am working around the world? I'm working in you too."

Privileged

Being back in the States for almost 3 months now has been hard in many ways. I often feel like I'm marking time, wishing I could be in Uganda with my team, and wondering what God's reasoning is in all of this. But, there is another side to it. I've had the privilege of witnessing many special moments with my family the last few months. And I no longer take time with nieces and nephews for granted; I love hearing each of their little variations on my name and receiving their sweet hugs.

I also got a new camera lens (since mine broke in an unfortunate Christmas light electrocution in Bundi--another story) and have enjoyed taking snaps of a few special things I was able to be here for!

The joy and awe of tractors and fire engines at the Dogwood Festival parade.

A was convinced the bubble show would be noisy; we promised the bubbles wouldn’t be loud when they popped but she kept her fingers in her ears the whole time.

M’s pre-school picnic complete with a train ride and his best friend!

M’s pre-school graduation—performing his “Turtle Song” all by himself. So grown up!

The graduate with Mom and Dad afterwards :)

N enjoying her first “swim” of the season in our pool.

A is a little fish!

And probably the greatest joy of all—meeting my nephews S and E. I’ll never forget that I was getting ready to fly back to the U.S. when I got a text message from my brother saying they had been born. They weren’t due for two more months and these are very prayed-over boys. They came home last weekend and getting to hold them was incredibly precious.

Meditation on Psalm 27

Paul David Tripp is one of my favorite authors--all of his books I've read are honest and real but also bring you back to the Gospel and the love and hope that is waiting with it. I've been reading his book "A Shelter in the Time of Storm: Meditations on God and Trouble" and it has been quite fitting the last several weeks. Tripp goes through Psalm 27 and includes short meditations on verses that serve as a springboard for reflection and time with the Father. A few days ago I came across this one and absolutely loved it. As I've been working through Sonship and recently did a lesson on repentance, this really rang true and was an encouragement. I've copied it below and I hope it is an encouragement to you too!

Psalm 27:9

"Turn not your servant away in anger."

It is such a comfort to me, such a source of hope and strength and daily joy. It gives me reason to get up in the morning and to press on even when I am discouraged and weak and lonely and afraid. It gives me reason to face with courage the struggles within and the difficulties without. It reminds me that I can stand before You as I am, completely unafraid and ask of You what I have asked before and will ask again: Your forgiveness and Your help. What gives me this courage? What offers me this hope? It is this one thing. I know for certain that there are two words that I'll never hear.

I know that you will never look me in the eye and say to me, "Go away!" You will not send me from your presence. You will not drive me from Your grace. You will not separate me from Your glory. You will not eliminate me from Your promises. You will never, ever, ever send me away. Because Your anger was borne by Another. Because my separation was carried by Him. Because He was sent away, I will never, I will never be.

So in weakness, failure, foolishness, and sin, I stand before you once more with courage, hope, comfort, and joy, because I know that in all the dark things that may be whispered to me in this dark and fallen world, there are two words I will never hear. And so with gratitude and joy I get up to face the day but as I do, I do it without fear.

Respite From the Wind Tunnel

Since making the decision to return to the U.S., I’ve had a lot of mixed feelings. Fear, guilt, failure, joy at seeing my family, sadness at seeing Ugandan parts of my speech leaving me, relief as I rested, torn between two worlds, and on the list goes.

As I realized my stay here would last longer than 4 weeks, I struggled more. Many times over the past month, I’ve pictured myself in a dark wind tunnel with God’s giant hand firmly but gently pushing my head back as I struggle, fight, and flail my arms in a useless fight against all of it. It being my physical health, my circumstances, my geographical location, my confusion and anger at God, my worn-down emotions, and grief over losing the carefully laid plans I had made—the plans God had helped me make but He has changed.

I’m still working through all of this, along with the new information that I need to have surgery to rule thyroid cancer in or out. I still have those wind tunnel moments when I struggle, fight, and try to understand. But I’m finding more moments of peace too. I’m sure there is a myriad of reasons behind this slow development to surrender, which I hope will move to praise.

I’m sure I won’t understand a lot of this until I’m with my Father in glory. But, in the meantime, I allow myself to grieve but I’m also finding joy in simple treats here. A few of the treats God has brought me in the last week or so:

• Waking to the rain pattering against my windowpane
• Whipping up fresh cream of asparagus soup on a whim with my mom
• Going to the (very cold and windy) beach; hearing the reassuring rhythm of waves breaking on the shore
• Buying and planting all the flowers in my parents’ flower garden; getting sweaty and seeing dirt on my toes reminded me of Uganda and watching something grow and flourish is therapeutic
• Discovering my love of banjo music as I listened to the Avett Brothers and Mumford & Sons while reading a good book in the sunshine
• Making an Indian feast for my parents—complete with homemade naan
• Eating smores by the fire pit in our backyard
• Being present for Easter, my nephew’s 2nd birthday, and Mother’s Day
• Wearing jeans everyday and not sweating : )

Encouragement

Streams in the Desert has been a source of steady encouragement to me since before I left for Uganda. Yesterday's reading was especially meaningful and I think it may bring hope to others too...

"Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today." Exodus 14:13

This verse contains God's command to me as a believer for those times when I am confronted with dire circumstances and extraordinary difficulties. What am I to do when I cannot retreat or go forward and my way is blocked to the right and to the left?

The Master's word to me is, "Stand firm." And the best thing I can do at these times is to listen only to my Master's word, for others will come to me with their suggestions and evil advice. Despair will come, whispering, "Give up--lie down and die." But even in the worst of times, God would have me be cheerful and courageous, rejoicing in His love and faithfulness.

Cowardice will come and say, "You must retreat to the world's ways of acting. It is too difficult for you to continue living the part of a Christian. Abandon your principles." Yet no matter how much Satan may pressure me to follow his course, I cannot, for I am a child of God. The Lord's divine decree has commanded me to go from "strength to strength" (Ps. 84:7). Therefore I will and neither death nor hell will turn me from my course. And if for a season He calls me to "stand firm", I will acknowledge it as a time to renew my strength for greater strides in the future.

Impatience will come, crying, "Get up and do something! To 'stand firm' and wait is sheer idleness." Why is it I think I must be doing something right now instead of looking to the Lord? He will not only do something--He will do everything.

Arrogance will come, boasting, "If the seas is blocking your way, march right into it and expect a miracle." Yet true faith never listens to arrogance, impatience, cowardice, or despair but only hears God saying, "Stand firm." And then it stands as immovable as a rock.

"Stand firm." I must maintain the posture of one who stands, ready for action, expecting further orders, and cheerfully and patiently awaiting the Director's voice. It will not be long until God will say to me, as distinctly as He told Moses to tell the children of Israel, "Move on." (Ex. 14:15).