Friday, January 29, 2010

new blog

be a follower ;)

Thursday, July 23, 2009


i'm home.
i'll write in a few days.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

not ready.

nothing to write-
other than i'm not ready to leave.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

my piece...

Despite the many things on my mind that I would like to share, the Lord has particularly laid on my heart to post something that I wrote in my journal a while back. In all honesty, I am not sure why, and acutally, I wrote this piece with the intentions of not sharing it. Although this is not necessarily what I want to write, I cannot ignore the presence of His quiet whisper. I hope that this writing, entitled, "my piece" serves as a blessing to you.

"my piece"

i arise with a timid spirit.
the sun awakens and i begin longing- longing for home.
i aimlessly wander, clinging to Him- my creator.
i step with strides of fear, eyes scanning the empty horizon.
the depths of my soul, hungry; the weight on my heart, heavy.
i crave words, pinpointing each breath.
i have nothing.

a tiny figure becomes visible.
despite storms of dust and plagues of distraction-
my eyese fix on one thing; a child.
no longer do i long for home- for home is just ahead.

physically, i hold back, allowing the shadowed figure to draw near.
yet my spirit, alive and restless-
i yearn for the gaze of this precious child to reach my own.
finally, eyes meet and i am found- lost in Christ himself.

her tiny frame stands still- fearfully trapped.
i bend down and extend my hand.
as i reach out, this small child begins forward
her every step reflecting the faith to move mountains.

soon she rests in the warmth of my arms.
my spirit, complete- here i am home.
no longer do i aimlessly wander, no longer my soul starved.

as i gaze upon her precious beauty, i am aware of one thing-
Christ's love alone.
the curves of her face, the grip of her hand leave three words on my lips:

"thank you, daddy"

this is where i am. this place, home. every day- one small child.
beginning as a tiny figure, distant and cold-
ending as a precious daughter, near and warm.

this tiny frame is Jesus himself-
who am I to touch him every day?

Monday, July 6, 2009

July 6

I feel bad for not writing recently, however, in all honesty we have not been up to much. We were supposed to be off to Livingstone for a week to have a few days of vacation and then 5 days of visiting children, however, the day before we were supposed to leave we had some unexpected complications.

When our visas were issued, they were marked Business which are 30 day visas, unrenewable. So, when we went to the Immigration office to have them renewed, obviously that wasn't going to happen.

So, after many trips back and forth to the Immigration office, Airport, etc., we still do not have our visas. Because of this, we cannot travel, and have had some down time (to say the least). Despite being a bit upset that we cannot go to Livingstone, I have come to see that for me, God had very different plans.

For now, I rejoice in this time (illegal as it may be) and cling to the hope that this is exactly what the Lord had in store.

Friday, July 3, 2009

secu yamene una badwa

Two decades.
I look back and wonder-
How am I here, how has this come to be?
I think back on all He’s done-
Captivated now, by His will for me-

I am humbled by His presence-
Constant and pure.
His word, constantly teaching
His hands, constantly reaching
What He’s done, just today, amazes me.

Twenty Years.
A long time, yet just a glimpse-
I wonder what He has planned for tomorrow-
Where will I be?
It’s in thinking about where I will be in another twenty years that leaves my spirit lingering-

I can only imagine.


There is nothing more beautiful than being here on my birthday.
What the Lord has done in me, just on this very day, is absolutely incredible- beyond measure.

It is amazing to think about the reality that before I was even knit together in my mother’s womb, God knew that I would be here, with these people, on this very day. He knew exactly what He would speak to me as my spirit rose to this new day- and exactly how he would reveal His love to me, today- His love consumes me.

His love.
His love.
His love.

I could say it over and over.

I am left encouraged by His Word:

“Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.” (Hebrews 12:28-29)

Monday, June 29, 2009

emotional battle.

My time spent in Kafue could best be described as an emotional battle. Saturday morning, awakened by the Lord, I was aware that my time spent there would not be easy- however, little did I know what was yet to come.

The night before was difficult. Thinking about seeing my girls from last year again left me anxious, nervous, excited, scared, and questioning what the next few days would bring. It wasn't until I got in the car on Saturday morning, that I realized just how much of my weekened would be much different than how I expected it to be.

I got in the car. Humphrey was quiet. I asked him how he was doing, he said, "fine." I knew something was not right. No more than 30 seconds passed, and his mouth began to move, sharing that last evening, one of our Orphans (Ophrey) had passed away.

If you know my story of Ophrey, you know that I associate his name with the Hope of Jesus Christ. If you know what happened last year while I was here, you would understand how devastated this left me.

As I sat in the car, quietly, now in shock, I wondered if the joy of seeing my girls would even exist amongst the pain of this loss.


We made it to Uncle Bushe's (a retreat center where I had stayed last year) and it brought back many incredible memories. Walking down the roads in Kafue felt so good- a place I had known so well once before. My spirit excited, interested in what was to come.

I could write forever about my time in Kafue. I could write about each one of my children, once a little girl, now bigger and stronger- and my time with them. I could write about the pain of leaving them again, knowing I won't see them again for a while- but it is just too much to write.

To put things plainly, time in Kafue was an emotional battle. From the joys of seeing some of my little girls, to the pains of losing Ophrey- from the excitement of being back in Kafue, to the suffereing of some of the children- from the anxiousness of seeing them, to the heart breaking reality of those not sponsored- from the joy of hearing the blessings from the Lord, to the tragedy of hearing a child talk aboout shane(one of my teammates from last year that tragically passed away after returning), wondering when he will come back, all in the mean while, in the back of my head just imagining how devastated this child would be to know that shane is gone.

Joy amongst pain. Beauty amongst disaster. Laughter amongst tears. Hope amongst sorrow.


I have yet to find words to explain my encounters with my girls. I have however, been able to write of my experience at Ophrey's funeral. This will conclude this post:

I wasn't expecting this.
I never thought we would actually ever lose one.
Ophrey- last year, a story of hope.
This year- his funeral.
I never thought I would have to do this.

I walk in- the church filled with mourners.
I am somber in spirit; nervous, scared, alone.
His body carried in, a small casket resting on sunken shoulders.

Then, I hear it. Over the silent cries of all the people gathersed- to women screaming-
their breaths, unable to fill their lungs.
the sound of grief- piercing.

i look to my left. a man, tears falling into his hands, cupped below.
i look forward- the Boy's Bregade- Ophrey's best friends.
i look down, my finger tips damp, with black streams of mascara, smeared.
i hold it in.

my eyes continue to scan the church.
i find myself angry- in disbelief.
Not that he's gone- but that all these people are here- at his funeral, screaming.
he lived alone. he's been alone. where were they then?
who am i to judge, yet, I find myself angry.

Then I am asked to speak.
I stand, exit the pew, and bow down before his casket.
I stand at the podium, and give my words.

As I stand before the church, my stomach aches. My knees weak. My eyes full, hindering my sight.
All I can see is one woman- she stands up and leaves the room. Another, burries her face in her hands.
I can't do this. This can't be happening.

I return to my seat. My heart pounding. I cry.
I feel a hand on my back- we pray.
my tears drown out the sounds.

I can't write more. I saw him, his lifeless body-
I remember him last year, weak and sick, yet carrying hope and life-
im sad. i hear the women.
i turn around and see them, collapsed on the ground yelling his name.
im angry, yet compassionate.

i just walk away.