On The Other Side

There was a hush inside the church, all that could be heard was the dry wind outside wiping up the African dust. Thirty children all colored ebony, sat quietly, and patiently for us, their eyes were the only things that moved as they followed our every move.

My sisters came over with their arms full of green and red boxes, all taped up with white tape that said, Samaritan's Purse in bold letters. I watched as their eyes grew wide in anticipation, one little girl broke the silence by giggling as Tabitha placed one of the precious boxes into the little girl's tiny hands.
A few moments later, all the children held their boxes on top of their heads in pride, as they started to sing 'Jesus Loves Me.'

My heart instantly became overwhelmed with a joy I had only felt a few times before. Tears found their way down my cheeks as I watched these precious little children sing from their hearts before they even opened the boxes! They were thankful to simply get the box, because just those red and green boxes meant so much. It wasn't what was inside them that made such an impact on them, it was that God was faithful and cared so, so much about each of these beautiful children that he would send them Christmas presents in April.

The next hour or so, was full of laughter, tears, and cries of joy. I witnessed just how much I, as a person from America, took things for granted. I saw children watch a top spin, and once it stopped they would spin it again and they never seemed to loose interest in it. Boys showed off their new Hot Wheels like it was their pride and joy. Girls were in awe as they gently plucked out their new dolls from their boxes, their fingers would gently touch the doll's hair wonder.
In one girl's box, everything was kept in by Ziploc bags, which made sense to me, so that space could be cut down by taking everything out of the packaging. But the poor girl didn't know what a Ziploc bag was! She didn't know the toys could come out of it.

All of it gave me a new understanding, and a new appreciation for all that God had blessed me with, but I didn't think much about it at the time, these moments weren't about me, they were about the children in front of me who were blessed in so many ways by the thoughtful families back in the United States who had spent one of their days picking out presents for them, and took the time to send it off.

It was amazing to think just how far these boxes had traveled. From an American's living room, they found themselves in the laps of thirty little children who had never even laid eyes on some of the things in those boxes, like Twizzlers, or glow sticks.

In an hour and a half, it was over, and the children started to pack up their toys back in their boxes, place them on top of their heads and walk out of the church. Even though it was over, the joy was still evident as they said 'thank you' to me, their pearly white teeth shined through as their smiles went from ear to ear. I can't fully express what a blessing it was for me that I was allowed to witness the opening of those Samaritan's Purse boxes, it was such a gift to me that I know I'll never be able to forget those smiles, and those excited squeals of joy. And every time I remember those faces, they will remind me never to take what I have for granted. 

Home

What would you do, if the only thing you had left of someone was ripped out of your arms? By a force that only wanted to hurt you, it lived for nothing else but your suffering? What would you do?
You'd go after it.

Most people, when they find that they have lost someone, deny it. Their new reality angers them, to the point that that anger boils up like a soup someone left on the stove and had forgotten about. Eventually it over flows. But for me, when I lost that someone, I did the only thing I could do.

I wrote.

It wasn't always like this. At some point in everyone's life there's a happy part, and if the person's lucky, maybe there are several parts. In my life, the happy parts were a sweet seasoning sprinkled out among the bad parts.

I guess I should start by showing you the setting, after all, what's a story with out a setting?


My home is a mesh of things. Cities with electricity, running hot water, cars, movie theaters, shopping malls and water parks dot the country. But drive an hour or two (or three or four depending on the traffic) and you're surrounded by wide open planes with tall grass that glows gold in the setting sun. Trees unique to the continent are sprinkled throughout the planes, you hardly ever see two together and it crosses your mind just how lonely it must be to not have any friends around.
At first glance, the savannah is peaceful. Serene. Like heaven's door just opened and you realize you could look at it until you went blind but you'd never be able to capture it all. Take a closer look.

It's teaming with life! Lions chasing down their next meal, cheetahs lazing about in the shade, leopards watching their cubs climb trees only to fall on their little heads in the end. Zebras roam the planes, enjoying the sweet grass, hippos splash playfully in the river.

And the savannahs are only a fraction of the continent, in fact they're the icing on the cake. The real jewel is the people that make the place what it is. Mamas walk down the dirt roads, balancing baskets of fruit or jugs of water on their heads, while they herd their children back towards home. Men pedal down the streets, shouting greetings to their friends as they pass by. Kids get up at the crack of dawn to start the hike to school several miles away.

It's all in the people. That's what makes up my home. The smiles, the tears, the fact that life is about making friendships and relationships, not about getting the work done. There's beauty here, just as much as there is danger. People look at my home from afar with their up turned noses and a concrete mind set that no one could live there. But let me tell you different; we don't just live, we thrive.

Welcome to the Dark Continent.

A New Cliff

In the past....year and a half? (Maybe a bit more) so many things have happened!
I went to boarding school, completely on my own, and grew up even faster. I turned 18. I went to Banquet with the sweetest guy. (My school's version of prom) I went for an entire week in the Maasai Mara, doing nothing but taking pictures of God's beautiful creations. And on top of all of that, I even went on my first date.

This time has been full of a thousand firsts and lasts. Everyone at RVA has done things like this several time, but I never have, and lucky me, I jump in at the end of it all. In away I'm glad, I get to come in just as all the fun starts up, but also I'm sad. Because just as I get use to it all, it comes to an end. All I can do is pray and try to see God's reasoning for allowing me to go through these things, but at the same time I realize I'm blessed that He allowed me to go through it all!

This next term (three months) are my last at RVA. It's hard to wrap my brain around, I feel like I just got there! and now I have to leave again. There are so many things I can't wait to do, like go to Mombasa for a few days with my class. Then there are things I can't wait to see what they're going to lead to, such as, what happens after a first date? And then there are things that I don't want to face, graduation, going back to the States on my own, having to fill out the long check list of things I need to accomplish once I get there.

Part of me can't believe I'm eighteen and headed for college. I remember days that were filled with dress up games, tea parties, and cuddle time with Daddy, like it was just yesterday. I never understood why my parents didn't want me to grow up, I mean lets face it, every kid want's to grow up. Until they have to.

Life is full of cliffs. And despite how much we argue with ourselves, and try to come up with other logical explanations, or point out how illogical what we have to do is, in the end all we can do is.....
             Jump.

That's what I'm standing at now, a cliff. It's tall, and the gorge is deep to the point it gets dark and I can't see anything. I can see the other side, but it's too far to jump by myself. There would be no way I could even have the slightest chance of even just my fingertips brushing the opposite cliff. But I know I have to jump, it's the only thing left to do. I can't go backwards, as much as I wish I could, I can't live in the past, the only thing left to do is go forward, and that means I have to jump.

Some things in life, you can't do by yourself, it's not physically, or emotionally possible. That's why you have to just trust God to take care of you. I'm learning how much I trust him with the little things, like with the date. I can't even begin to guess what is going to happen next! It could go absolutely no where, or it could take on wings of its own and soar into the sky. But I have no control over it at this point in time, so every night when fears threaten to consume the peace I have in my soul, I place what could happen in God's hand, say 'please take care of this for me' and then turn away from it. Not allowing myself to look back until God places it back in front of me and says 'see? this is what I have in store for you.'

Life is full of cliffs, and jumps. But all it takes is trusting God to give you wings, and soon you find that you can fly.