A Moment. (a post for friends).

Right now I’m sitting at a bakery, bagel in one hand, a good book in the other, sipping a delicious gingerbread latte, listening to Christmas music…

Thinking…about a moment.

You know those moments in life where you are simply overwhelmed? Not in the I’m going to literally die this dead week sort of a way, but that beautiful sense of overwhelming…something…something that is too good to put into words….it washes over you unexpectedly, and just for a brief second you wish you could stop time and space and hold on to that moment? It usually happens on top of a mountain, in the middle of a thunderstorm, or on Christmas morning….but sometimes…oh sometimes…it happens in the most ordinary of times. When you’re curled up in bed hurting, sipping delicious coffee, or holding someone’s hand.

Well this morning was a sometime morning for me. And like usual, my moment was entirely and completely unexpected, composed of a swirl of memories from yesterday and the past few weeks, little scattered pieces, moments, of friendship hitting me all at once.

The thing about these little pieces of friendship, some brightly colored, others subtle and calming, some smooth, others rough, is this: They may be little in themselves, but together…together they make a beautiful mosaic of community.

I look close and there, there are the broken, bright, aching pieces of myself and of those close to me. I see pain, I see joy, I see reality, I see hopes and dreams, I see encouragement, I see fear. 

I step back.

…

This is my moment.

Here I stand taking in this mosaic, this picture, this masterpiece of friendship and community, of LOVE.

My breath catches in my throat, anyone’s would really.

It is just so beautiful.

…and I am a part of it.

These past few weeks it seems like a number of our hearts have been aching…Struggling to understand our individual pain, fear, and confusion, but not struggling alone. No, this we share, just as we share laughter, vegetables, joy, and tea.

A dear friend’s words echoed in my soul, “Fight for love in a hopeless place”…and boy do we fight like hell. Not just for ourselves, but for each other.

How many people can say they belong to a community like that?

I don’t want to miss this before it is gone. I don’t want to wait until life has pulled all of us our separate ways to acknowledge how brokenly perfect and rare this community is…

So step back with me, just for a “moment” and take it in…See the pieces of yourself in this mosaic, and hold on to it. Because well, we may never be a part of a community quite like this ever again…

And that is something to be thankful for. 

Thanks for taking the broken, confused, and joyful pieces of myself and making them into something so beautiful.

I love you guys.

Hugs for days!!!

Embrace your joy.

My greatest fear is my greatest joy.

I fear being too much...

Too loving, independent, passionate oh so passionate, adventurous, uninhibited, spontaneous, ambitious...too much for someone to handle.

This "too much" aspect of myself is the way Jesus created me.  I think His face breaks out into a massive smile (you know the ones where your eyes, nose, and face crinkle and your eyes start to water?) when I have my "too much" moments. He delights in the way that He made me, He finds joy when he sees me be me, and I have found that these are the moments when I find the most joy too.

...Yet I am slowly learning that uninhibitedly embracing me may include always being too much for a guy to handle.

...and...well, I am also slowly learning that that's ok with me.  

That's ok with me, because I would rather live a life of freedom and great uninhibited joy than let someone try to place me in a box that I simply will not fit in. 

I would rather be alone.

I would rather be alone than be "kind of", "sort of", "some days", or "a little much".

No.

I will be "too much".

I will be me.

...Embrace your joy.

:)

Dessert for Breakfast.

Last night I baked. I had friends over. We laughed and smiled. We ate ice cream with forks and watched Youtube videos.

I felt joy. 

I have missed friendship.

I thought of something I read the other day, “Find someone that can make you laugh and don’t give up on them”.

I hope they don’t give up on me.

Long after they left I sat alone…

I thought. I hurt. I questioned. I tried to understand anything. Plucking at my guitar I sang for what felt like hours.

Music heals me. Kind of like chocolate and friends…kind of like being loved.

                                                                                                                     

This morning I drank tea with my best friend. I shared my heart with her. It was beautiful.

I felt hope. Hope in the freedom of finally being able to confess hopelessness. 

I have missed friendship.

I thought, "Find someone you can be transparent with and don't give up on them".

I hope she doesn’t give up on me.

Hours after we left I found myself suddenly bent over in front of my mirror. Forcing myself to stand up, forcing myself to breathe.

“You are beautiful. You are strong.” I found myself repeating the words to myself over again and again under the vague hope that repetition eventually leads to truth.

It doesn’t.

                                                                                                                      

So I did the only thing I could. I pulled out the left over memories from the night before. Pumpkin spice fall crunch cake, made with friendship and giggles.  And I cut out a piece…

Because…well sometimes you just need to eat dessert for breakfast. 
 

I found Jesus during Ramadan.

As I sit here on my back porch writing, the hum of my computer is drowned out by the symphony of birds singing mixed with the occasional interruption of a rooster cry.  I find myself giggling as I watch our chickens pluck at the ground and strut back and forth, and my heart is filled with memories of the past few weeks. I haven’t written in far too long, and though there are many adventures I could record right now, I would like to choose something simple, beautiful, and unexpected.

I found Jesus during Ramadan.

Sitting on the floor of our friend Ally’s small house, one circle of the girls, one circle of the boys. Eating beans, fish, chapatti, rice patties, roots, sweet potatoes, and peppered porage with our fingers. No utensils, no plates. Just food, family, Allah, Jesus, and love.

Amazing.

Two white, Christian, American girls, welcomed into the arms of a Muslim family, the beaming face of Ally’s mother as she watches us enjoy her cooking and as she encourages us to eat more and more, the giggling of Ally’s brothers and sisters as they watch Happy stuff her face, the calming peace after the meal as we all sit with full stomachs loving across culture and religion.

This is beautiful. This is love. This is what Jesus is all about. 

I wish America could see this. I wish they would show this on the news.

I serve a God that transcends religion. I serve a God that is love. Love is not limited to Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, or Hinduism.

Love is Love, and I just want to be in the middle of it.

Thank you Jesus for Ramadan.

Tears in the Darkness.

Last night Happy and I were alone in our home for the night. As I lay in my bed I was startled by sudden desperate cries drifting through the darkness. I quickly ran into Happy’s room and scooped the little tear stained girl up into my arms, rocking her and assuring her that she was safe and that it was only a dream (looks like I’m not the only one with nightmares here). Her little face buried into my chest as I carried her to my bed and let her crawl under the covers with me. I put on part of a Disney movie in hopes that it would replace any dark scary thoughts with light and giggles. I then put on some calming piano music in hopes that she would fall asleep…

Here I lay on my back with this precious child in my arms, her head nestled into my chest and one of her little hands wrapped tightly around my finger. I could feel the soft steady rise and fall of her breathing as her other hand searched for mine under the covers. Once she found it she held on tightly stroking my thumb with her tiny little fingers... 

This was the moment.

The moment when the tears came.

Silent. Steady. They slid down my face into the darkness.

My thoughts were simple, my emotion helpless as I realized this shouldn’t be me. I shouldn’t be the one holding this little girl in the middle of the night. Her hands shouldn’t be wrapped around mine, they should be wrapped around her mothers.

But Happy doesn’t have a mother…or a father…she has lost all of her family.

Happy is an orphan.

I have always known this, knew this months before coming here, knew it the day I arrived. And yet…

Sometimes we know something but it doesn’t truly become realized, it doesn’t truly become a reality until…a moment. A precious and powerful moment.

This was my moment. 

I knew Happy was an orphan...

I placed her back into her crib for the night and crawled back into my bed alone.  Here I longed for someone to scoop me up, wipe away my tears, hold my head to their chest and tell me that this was all just a bad dream…

But I knew it wasn't.   

So I let the tears come.

Today I...

Today I...

-Did Yoga on my porch
-Prayed
-Drank Tea
-Woke up Happy
-Made Happy tea
-Gave Happy a sticker for peeing in her little toilet
-Changed Happy 
-Made breakfast with Happy
-Did dishes
-Swept the house
-Did laundry outside while Happy played in the dirt
-Changed Happy 
-Danced with Happy
-Danced with Onesmo, Amy, and Happy
-Laughed with Mama Onesmo about all the dancing
-Made Lunch for Happy
-Gave Onesmo and Amy cookies and milk
-Did more dishes
-Changed another diaper
-Put Happy down for a nap
-Put in a Disney movie for Onesmo
-Read Velvet Elvis
-Played guitar
-Sat on my porch
-Sang
-Visited with Juma
-Played more guitar
-Woke up Happy
-Went on a walk with Happy and Onesmo
-Picked oranges
-Had a sword fight with Onesmo
-Beat Onesmo at a sword fight
-Made Happy and Onesmo dinner
-Played soccer with an orange in the house while cooking Happy and Onesmo dinner
-Did more dishes
-Welcomed the rest of my African family into my home
-Cut up water melon and made popcorn for my family
-Sat in front of the fire with my family eating watermelon and popcorn
-Showed Gabriel our dance videos from earlier that day
-Laughed with my family
-Said goodnight to my family
-Did more dishes
-Sat down
-Was encouraged by my friends at home
-Got goodnight kisses from a giggly Happy through my mosquito net
-Was thankful
-Was loved

Today has been...hard.

Right now I am sitting on my mosquito netted bed writing this blog while hyenas howl off in the distance and the beating of an African drum drifts through my house.

Today has been...hard.

So far this week we have already had to go into Arusha twice, take Happy to the doctors, and visit markets close by. And well...I was hit with a harsh realization. A lot of the Africans do not want me here. I am white. I am from America. And well...Some people here will never forgive me for that.

At one of the smaller markets closer to our house, Ksusha and I tried to buy some eggs (there was an entire crate of them sitting in front of our face) and the lady simply waved us away and said they weren't for sale. They weren't for sale...because we were white. Walking with Happy in town stirs mixed emotions as well.  While an American may sigh at the sight of two white girls carrying around a black orphan baby, an African may give us a dirty look letting us know that they don't "need" or "want" our help. It is amazing how easily the words "why don't you go back from where you came from, you don't belong here" can be communicated in just about any culture without the use of words at all (how often do we communicate, "You are welcome, you are loved, come and stay a while" without a language?). It has been made clear to me that the people still carry a lot of hurt and painful memories here.

Should this upset me? How should I feel about this? Is this the part where I pack up my bags say, "Ok fine, I will leave. Thanks for the hospitality, I'll go love on someone else.", or is this when i just love harder, love more, love deeper, and try to show these people that love transcends negative comments, hurtful looks, skin color, and painful memories? That love stays no matter what?

...

I don't know.

Today has been...hard.