Welcome 2012!

2012 has arrived! And so have I--to Kenya! I brought in the New Year by going to bed at 9:30--lame, right? But I knew when I got up on January 1st, I wouldn't be back in a bed for a good 36 hours :)

My trip here went well and I've been amazed at God's gentle nudges along the way. Just a few of the things that  reminded me that He's been with me:

• a rainbow popped up in the sky as I drove to the airport with my parents; a tangible sign of His faithfulness and promise-keeping
• the friends I made along the way--an adorable, older Asian woman that encouraged me in the Philly airport; my seatmate to London that was a teacher in Turkey; my seatmate to Nairobi that is a medic in Somalia.
• 3 trunks that all arrived intact!
• a smiling Kenyan face that greeted me at the airport and helped me lug the 3 trunks to the guesthouse
• a nauseating moment of anxiety as I realized I left my iPad on the plane; a panicked phone call to my Mom; sheer relief as I called the airline and they said they'd found it and I could pick it up tonight. S.O.S. prayers answered quickly at 1 a.m.--thank you, Jesus!

Currently, I'm in my own little paradise. Sitting in the shade, surrounded by tropical plants, listening to birds chirping, sipping coffee, and not sweating in the lack of humidity. I have been so blessed to have the next 2 weeks as a time of slow but steady transition back into life in Uganda.

Despite the huge differences between Nairobi and Bundibugyo, it is good to be "home" in Africa. Last night as we drove from the airport to the guesthouse, I felt a (sleepy) contentment and smiled to myself. I have missed hearing the African English, driving on the left, and seeing ads for African products. I am enjoying the smell of Imperial Leather soap on my hands and sleeping with a mosquito net again. I guess I thought after spending more time back in the States than I spent here in Africa, it would all feel alien and strange again when I returned. But I am happily surprised by just how at home I feel.

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!