Sacrifice

sac·ri·fice/ˈsakrəˌfīs/

Noun:

An act of slaughtering an animal or person or surrendering a possession as an offering to God or to a divine or supernatural figure.

So the next 12 days are going to be really hard for me. If you think of it, I could use some extra prayers- I need some divine peace :) I keep thinking of all the people I need to say goodbye to, and all the things I am letting go of (like my pets) and its breaking my heart. I love my boys, and my job, and Uganda, but I love this too. I love my jeep, and my house and America. I love my friends and family more than words, and I am going to miss them like crazy. I am grieving the loss of this time, and these relationships, because no matter what they will change. People change, and life goes on, and I will never come back to this place in time again. I know that God has blessed me with friendships that will endure, but I won't be around for a lot of births and weddings, and its sad. My anxiety level is rising, and the hardest part is yet to come.

I recently read a quote about sacrifice in a book I am reading. The author is saying "sacrifice isn't sacrifice until it hurts". He is is so right! Humans don't like to surrender anything. Its hard to give up something, especially something you love. I keep thinking about Jesus, and his final moments in the garden. His whole life he knew what his purpose was, and he was willing to follow. He found joy in being able to serve God. He knew the importance of his choice, and he was going to do it out of love, because in fact he loved us too much to make another choice. Now, my life isn't on the line, and I am not about to make the biggest sacrifice ever made, but again get that glance into what Jesus was thinking.

He loved us, and because of that love he was bound to his choice. He would never have been happy if he hadn't made it. I love my boys, and so I could never really turn away from them. He also probably didn't realize how hard actually surrendering to God was going to be; we know from scripture that he was in so much anguish over his choice that he actually cried blood. That is not a picture of a man making a peaceful and joyous sacrifice. So while I know the choice I am making is right, its not easy. While I know it is what I was put on this earth to do, it isn't  perfect. Now its my turn to really sacrifice my life up to God, because this time it hurts. This time it takes true trust in His plan, and true surrendering of my own.

I have been listening to a worship song (Revelation Song) that says
"Holy Holy Holy is the Lord God almighty,
 Who was, and is, and is to come
 With all Creation I sing;
 Praise to the King of Kings
 You are my everything
 And I will adore You"
The end there- and I will adore you- keep striking me. Its a statement, but its also a command. I will adore You. Even when its hard, or I am struggling. I will adore my King, because He is worthy always. I will continue to sing His praise, no matter what. So I am sacrificing, and its going to get harder before it gets better. But in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter. Its going to bring God glory, and therefore it will bring me joy.

I will adore You

You know you're a missionary when...

- you come home every day with a “dust tan”

- you see something on the wall, and you wonder if it was a cockroach or a gecko. No matter what it was, it doesn’t frighten you anymore

- you save every plastic container you get, and recycle almost everything

- you find yourself feeding random street dogs rather than letting food go to waste

- you can accomplish almost any household fix with tape

- a knife is no longer just a kitchen utensil, it is a magic multipurpose tool with a +100 uses

- Skype is a huge financial blessing

- its not worth wasting drinking water on brushing your teeth

- your sheets are damp because they got caught in a sudden rain storm and didn’t dry before bed (the same thing can apply to clothing)

- you have a preference about how bugs are cooked

- you know all the songs at church, but don’t understand what the words mean

- you set aside a 4 hour time chunk for going to the bank


I know there are many more, and that some of these only apply to being in Africa. But being in America makes me realize all the fun things I’ve learned to think of as normal :)

White Flag

There is a song by Chris Tomlin called White Flag. The lyrics go...
"We raise our white flags We surrender all to you all for you. We raise our white flag The war is over love has come, Your love has won"
  Throughout my decision to move to Uganda, I've faced some serious disapproval. And although I really am safe where I am going, and not afraid at all, I want to set the record strait. 

The truth is that I find total purpose and joy in serving Him and my kids. But even if I didn't, I would still do it. Why? Well, I call myself a Christian. I say I serve the Lord. God says that following Him means giving up everything. It means selling all you have, and dropping what you're doing to run after Him. This weekend at the College Life retreat, our speaker talked about serving God- understanding how big He is, and how unbelievable His love is. If we REALLY understood that, then its worth it all. If I really believe what I say I believe, then I need to put it ALL on the line. If my God is as big as I say He is, then nothing about me or myself is more important than bringing Him glory. 
My comfort is not more important.
My family is not more important.
My safety is not more important. 
Even my life is not more important. 

I want to go all or nothing for this King that I call my Father. I want my everything to hinge on belief in Him. I want to show people that I think He is worth risking it all for. There is no warm for Christ; He calls us to be cold or hot, but not warm. He says He will spit out what is warm- those are harsh but truthful words. I try and imagine what Jesus would say to me if I stayed. If I settled down and had a few kids, got a private practice in Counseling, and just went to church on Sundays, what would that say about what I believed? Now, I know lots of people who are living out their faith by raising children in a godly home and truly love Jesus. I am NOT saying that isn't a ministry in itself. And I am not saying that everyone's calling must be my calling. But what I am asking is what our speaker asked this weekend- if you found out that God wasn't real, and Jesus was a liar, how would your life change? Because if the only thing that changes is that your Sundays free up, there is a problem. If the only problem you run into is that the "foundation for your moral compass" must be redefined, there is something missing. 


Bottom line, I believe what I say, so I'm risking everything. That is why I am putting it all on the line. I am raising my white flag, I surrender all for Christ.

Mom means Always

Have I ever talked about Eddie? Probably, but recently he has been on my mind and heart a lot :)

So I first met Eddie when I visited Uganda in 2010. He was living in the home with API, but was running away a lot. Midway through our trip, Eddie left the home. Now I had not particularly bonded with him, and when I thought back on my trip months later he was not the first boy who came to mind. When I went back the following summer however, God gave me a passion for this boy. Eddie is 14, and he has been in many homes. He has also been hurt a lot, and that makes it hard for him to trust people. This is not a unique story with street boys, and so I hadn't given him much though. But in the year since I had seen him, Eddie had changed. He had been placed in another home in Kampala, which was not a very good boys home. He was living with about 50 other boys, most of whom had lice and bed bugs, and who were not going to school. He had school (a school in the slum, but still a school) fees paid by the home, and although his friends were not attending, Eddie was very focused on his work.
Needless to say, I was really impressed by his change of heart. He totally realized that he should not have run away from API, and had really suffered on the streets before he had been taken into his current home. Although it wasn't a great one, he was not about to blow his last chance. Even if he had, he would still be on my heart. I wanted to get Eddie out of the situation he was in- I really believed he deserved an..8th? chance. So I began working on finding him a school. My parents graciously agreed to sponsor him, and now Eddie is enrolled in one of the nicest Christian boarding schools in Kampala. He gets to stay at a nicer boys home on his holidays, with one of our uncles who also wanted to help him.
In the time it took to find him a good school, I also started spending quality time with him. We would go out to dinner once a week, and also some special occasions on the weekend (like swimming). I got to really know Eddie, who is a shy but honest and loving kid. He started opening up to me, and told me his whole story. Unlike all the other kids I work with, Eddie had no chance of going back to the API homes. I wasn't just working with him, and sharing responsibility with Abby and David and the other staff. Eddie became my responsibility. I didn't even fully realize this until we went to dinner one night. We were eating at one of his favorite restaurants, and Eddie began to tell me how much he loved and trusted me, and how I had helped him so much. He told me that he knew he had blown a lot of chances, but he was so blessed that I had given him another chance. He told me that he though of me like his mom, and asked me if he could call me that. Here is the thing- I don't let or encourage any of the boys to call me that. They had moms, and I am not her. And I don't act like a mom. Yes, I help parent, but Abby and David are the leaders in our homes, and then we have full time aunties and uncles. Mostly though, mom is forever and so I don't take it lightly. Moms don't leave. Moms take care of you, and forgive you even when things are hard or you make a mistake. They don't leave and not check back- moms are there on your wedding day, and for the birth of your first child. And you're responsible for your children, you have to actually raise them. So when Eddie asked me, I didn't take it lightly. I knew the weight behind that word, and I accepted it. The other day, I got a letter from him. One of the things he wrote was
"Mom, I miss you. I cannot believe that you chose me, out of all the boys on the streets or in Uganda. You picked me, and you're my mom. That makes me feel so special. I praise God for you".

That right there makes it worth it. Our relationship is different, and there are boundaries there that other mom-son relationships don't have, but that doesn't mean I don't love him like any birth mom (the same way I love all my boys really). Sometimes its hard, and I panic. I realize I have parenting decisions to make. I am moving to Uganda, and I will not leave Eddie to the care of friends. I will be there with him, and make hard choices that affect his future and life. In the span of a few months, I adopted a teenager (I often think about the possibility of actually adopting him, although for legal reasons that would be almost impossible). Now I ask my mom for parenting advice, and worry about Eddie and who he is spending time with, and how he is doing in school. I answer to his teachers when he misbehaves, and comfort him when he has a hard day. And its crazy, but so is my Ugandan life. And I cannot do it alone, but I have a God who won't abandon me, and friends to help me. And so I do the best I can, and stumble through it, and love this kid who somehow became my son.

Beauty from Pain

Over the past few months, my family has been going through a lot of changes. We are not a family who likes change, and literally everything is evolving. I could call it ending too- my family, as I've known it for the past 21 years, is ending. But new things are beginning out of it. Its been a hard ride, and someday I will probably look back at this as one of the hardest years of my life. But even in the midst of all of my hurt and confusion, God is growing me into someone I hardly recognize. And its someone more like Him.
Daily I find myself pondering new revelations. The most recent one is this.. everyone is living a different life, therefore nobody will EVER know what its like to be in my shoes. At first, this was a super frightening and lonely idea. And then it dawned on me- Jesus does. He promises that I belong to Him. He lives within my heart, and experiences everything I do. He knows every hurt, every joy, and every thought because He is with me always. I am not constant, but God always is. He never lets me down, or lets me go. The more we go through this journey of life together, the more I become like Him.
I don't think that God expects me to actually find joy in every hardship, but I think He offers hope in the mist of them. Because even when things are super difficult, and my human eyes are blind to the meaning of events, God can see them. He isn't a mean God, and doesn't create suffering. But He does use suffering to grow me, and to mold me into the woman He created me to be. The painful events of today are shaping my future. They are molding my ideas on marriage, ministry,  parenting, and friendship. There is a song that puts my feelings into words and it says...

After all this has passed, I still will remain
After I've cried my last, there'll be beauty from pain
Though it won't be today, someday I'll hope again
And there'll be beauty from pain
You will bring beauty from my pain

Thanks Jesus, for such a wonderful promise :) Thanks for working hard for me, for making my life all it can be. Thanks for letting me cling to you, and for blanketing me in Your love.

Behind and Before

"You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain"- Psalm 139:5-6


When I was around 10, I became fascinated by missionaries. I didn't want to be one, and in fact the idea terrified me. Even then, some part of me knew that it was God's whispering. I remember asking my mom "Would God send something, like a snake or something scary, to chase me into the missions field?" because I didn't want to go, but I didn't want to ignore God either. My mom reassured me, saying that if that was God's plan for me, I wouldn't be afraid to go.

At 14, I remember sitting on a doc in Tahoe, the year after my first mission trip to Mexico. It was on that trip, crossing the boarder and seeing true poverty for the first time, that changed me. I got goosebumps because I was so excited. I almost cried, not because of what I was seeing, but because of how "right" it felt for me to be there. That day on the doc in Tahoe (on a winter retreat with my youth group) I made God a promise. I would follow Him, would follow Jesus wherever He lead me. In return, I asked for a life of adventure. Not cliff diving, or racing around Europe. I wanted a life of uncertainty. A life that required me to lean on Him. A life that took me out of my comfort zone, one that never let me forget that I need my King. God has honored my promise, in more ways than I could have imagined.

I am still in awe of the things God has done in my life in less than a year. In May, He took me back to Uganda for the second time. I was alone with God, and I pushed Him away. I was in the light, but blind. If you read between the lines of my earlier blogs, you can hear my fear and isolation. I learned that I am not strong enough to be in Uganda on my own, not even strong enough to love the boys on my own. I loved them, and they shattered my heart and rejected me, and I came to understand some of how Jesus must have felt.  I am weak, and when I stood on my own, I fell. I wanted to retreat into the comfort of my American life, and forget Uganda, and the promise I had made to Jesus. Instead, I desperately clung to the lifeline of trust that He threw me, and I waited.
And I waited, and I waited... and it hurt. Then, all the sudden, I began to see again. I watched as Jesus lead me back to Him, where I stood on firm rock. I was joyful when He caught me from the cliff I had jumped from. He was with me, and that was enough. I cannot lie and say that that first month was by any means easy, but it taught me to persevere. Because at the end of my trials, something far beyond my imagination waited for me. By the end of my summer, I was consumed by love. I was devoted to Jesus, and my boys, and Ugandans. I loved the country, and the culture. God helped me fall in love with life itself. I want the record to show that I can do NOTHING without my Savior. He is the one who changed my heart, and took the fear away. He is the one who replaced it with indescribable love, and He is the one who set into motion the events now occurring. Without Him, I would be sitting at home, fretting about what Masters program I was going to get into. I would be worrying about what dating options there would be once I was out of my college community (lets be honest, most girls at least consider that question ;) I would be looking for a job to pay for my next few years of school.


Oh Jesus, thank you for giving me what I asked for instead!!

Two weeks ago, I found a sending agency. Tomorrow, I am going to officially send out support letters. This summer, I am moving to Uganda to stay. Why? First, because I love Jesus, and this is where He is leading me. I know that %110. Whatever I do, I do out of love for Him. Second, I am going back for a group of rowdy, rough, and scrappy boys that have completely stolen my heart. I didn't understand love until I met them. I had even been in love, but not fully grasped what it means to love. I love my boys with everything I am. With everything I do, and every thought I have. They break my heart, and my love for them pushes me forward. By this love, my faith has bloomed in ways I never imagined. I still have difficulty trusting Jesus, but He is always there. Each day I try and mirror Christlike love to my boys, and they teach me the meaning of love through God's eyes. I am daily reminded of my inadequacies, and failings, but I am so grateful that He has none. I am about to jump again, and this time, there is no plan B. There is no escape rout, and all my chips are in. The cliff is bigger, and the fall would be crushing, but I am jumping anyways.
And this time, I am not afraid at all :)

Disposible Children

I am reading a book right now on the child soldiers in Uganda during the war with the LRA. At one point, the young man writing it expresses a suspicion that I believe to be true of most Americans (or westerners in general). His suspicion is that the rest of the world believes, for some reason, that African children are more disposable than their own. And the devastating thing is that he is totally right. I have blogged about my frustration on this issue before, but I want to paint a different picture- I will do it with my own precious little sister, but insert your own beloved child in this scenario.

My 10 year old sister Danielle is missing. My family is dead or dispersed, and although we loved her deeply, now she is on her own. She is living on the streets of LA. Danielle misses us more than anything, but she is trying to numb the pain. She smokes pot daily, or drinks vodka to escape her past. In the day, she collects bottles and cans to get money for recycling, and that is how she feeds herself. But its not enough, and she is starving- her ribs begin to stick out. At night, she runs from police who will place her in jail instead of help her. If they find her, they will probably club her, and may even shoot her because she is just a child nobody cares about. She catches the flu, but she cannot see a doctor, and she remembers how my mom would take care of her when she was sick before this nightmare began. She is filthy dirty because she hasn't had a clean pair of clothes or even a bath for months. At night, she sleeps in gutters or under sheets of plastic, and men will probably come and abuse her. The next day, she wakes up and lives it all again, and nobody cares, and there is no hope.

These boys I love are children just like yours. They are beloved, even if the only person left to care is their Heavenly Father. Its disturbing isn't it? To put it in those terms, and I have no doubt members of my family will be upset I even imagined such a thing. But the fact is that my boys face this life every day, and I cannot forget them simply because they are Ugandan, or far away from me. I cannot forget them, and neither should you. If you have money to give, if you have a room in your home, if you have a body able to go, then do something. God is not comfortable with his children hurting, and we shouldn't be either.