This one's for you, Becca....

This is why I love fall in Dahlonega, and I told you I'd take pictures for you :)

Contentment

Ah, contentment. Something the Lord has been trying to drill into my head ever since I've been back from Africa, and only very recently have I let it sink in. When I got back I was depressed, sad, angry, and just did not want to be here. I think deep down, I wanted to feel that way. I wanted to come back changed, and maybe that meant being depressed if I wasn't in Africa. I think somehow I thought that if I tried to be content here, I'd go right back to the person I used to be, unchanged, and this summer wouldn't have made a difference in my life and how I live it.
I kept thinking about joy and how so many Africans had it despite their circumstances. I mean heck, I even blogged about it. I LOVED that they had so much joy when they had nothing. They found joy in their circumstances, yet I couldn't turn that around and look at it in my own life.
Maybe my circumstances weren't what I hoped they were. I was sad b/c I missed Africa and the people that I grew to love there. I wanted to be back there holding those children, spending time with our translators, and having a blast with my team. It's also so easy to forget your problems in Africa. We were thousands of miles away from our problems. Being here, we have to face them. Even though I may not have wanted to be here, why couldn't I find joy here? I think I was just too stubborn to see the joys in life here. I didn't want to be joyful. Deep down, I wanted to mope around and not be happy. And the devil used every opportunity he could to keep me there. It took some great friends who never gave up on me and gave me the kick in the butt I needed to get me to snap out of it. In all that mess, I lost focus on God and my relationship with Him, and I hurt people close to me that I lo.
When these realizations hit me, I knew something had to change. I wanted to change. And God really changed my heart in so many ways. I'm content with being here, in America. I'm joyful here. I worked at my daycare the other day and at recess I sat on the playground where the kids were playing. Anthony, who happens to be black, was apparently tired and decided to sit with me. Then he layed his head in my lap. It brought me back to Africa (not just cause he's black) because kids would always just sit with me or lay on me. It's one thing I missed most. And in that moment, with Anthony laying on me, I knew I was in fact content here. I even knew that if I was to never make it back to Africa, never see my kids again, I'd be okay. I had a peace about it. God blessed me with an incredible experience that I'm thankful for, not something that leads me to be discontent with where He has me right now. I'm not just content here, I'm joyful as well, and I want to be here.

June 12th

When insomnia kicks in, sometimes I decide to write. I know it's been awhile, but I'm writing now :). And since it's late (after 4am) I'm just going to copy some out of my journal. It was the end of our first week in Nsoko... "Today our task was manual labor. Half of the group went to Manzini (city about an hour and a half from Nsoko) to stay at the white house (the house owned by AIM) and half stayed here to work on building a house and doing stuff for Pastor Gift. Anna, Zech, and I helped Pastor Gift with some concrete stuff that lasted around noon (We made a cover for his septic tank, and put some concrete next to some water spickets). Later, we were talking to Nelly, Thandie's sister (Thandie was our translator) and decided to go on a walk. I stupidly wore my Old Navy shower shoes and they absolutely killed my feet. I have really painful blisters from the strap between my toes and also close to the heels of my feet. They were full of dirt and just painful. The walk was great besides the pain, but the whole time I had to think about how I'm blessed to have shoes and that many of them, especially the children, don't. I have no room to complain when they have so much less that I do. Then, later, I walked barefoot (seeing how I couldn't wear my shoes b/c of the blisters) to the fire pit with a little girl. I didn't know there were prickly thorns EVERYWHERE on the ground and they hurt SO bad. Once I got out there, I had to come right back (and you might be thinking, "what was the point of going out there then? well, I'm asking myself the same thing) and there was no way around it. The girl I was with didn't have shoes, and I could tell the thorns hurt her just as badly, so I carried her on my back which added to the pain b/c of the extra weight. While I walked back, I kept thinking that Christ suffered so much for us, the VERY least I could do was take a little pain and not complain if it meant this little girl wouldn't be in pain."
And the next day, I had to hike a mountain. Sound painful? Indeed it was. But God taught me a whole through my pain and many illnesses, and I wouldn't take them back for anything. God broke me. Physically. He physically broke me so that I could relate to the Swazis in ways that my teammates maybe weren't able to relate to them. I knew what kind of pain was caused from not wearing shoes. I became so much more aware of whether a child had on shoes and if their feet were in any pain. So many times I carried a kid on my back even if it wasn't comfortable after awhile b/c I knew they would have to walk barefoot otherwise. I just couldn't put them down. And I think I had a cold or some sort of sickness 85% of the time I was there. Not all that fun, but God was able to let me relate to them. So many of them were sick. Dying even. It made me thankful for my life and that I did merely just have a cold when the majority of the people we came across who were coughing or had cold-symptoms probably had TB. Being in Africa and seeing the pain and the sickness and the death makes you so much more thankful just for life. I'll never take my life for granted again. God moves even in sickness, even in pain.

Isabel's story

Remember Bongiwe, the girl that slept on me the first full night we were in Nsoko? Here's a different person's perspective on it. Isabel was Gift's assistant. She works with AIM and had been in Nsoko months before we got there. Here's her story...

Last night there was a knock on the door from the Real Life leader here. He said, "there are kids that haven't gone home and now they are sleeping...what should I do?" So he took them home. Then this morning they were already back so early. When asked about their mother, "She never came home last night. She was out drinking all night," and the father recently died from AIDS. These girls are so young. One is only 9 and she is taking care of her 2-year-old sister. They hadn't eaten since lunch provided from the carepoint yesterday at 1. It was now Sunday at 10 am. Pastor Gift's wife, Philile, made a big bowl of porridge for them to eat. I sat and made sure the baby got to eat and that the dog didn't take her food away. The other children that were around finished eating and went off to play at the other end of the property, leaving this two-year-old to finish eating all alone. I sat with her as she slowly brought the oversized spoon to her little mouth and licked off all of the porridge from it. After she had eaten all her stomach could take, she sat playing with a little twig from the ground. She was leaning on my leg and was looking so tired. I spoke to her in what little Siswati I know, but still nothing was said from her. Eventually she was in my lap, laying there as this tiny person that deserves so much more than she is receiving at "home". She fell asleep in my arms. This tiny little girl. As I was holding her my heart broke. The tears wouldn't stop coming. My already stuffed up nose was gathering more snot, but I just didn't care. What if this was my daughter, my sister, my niece? There are so many thoughts that run through my head. I want to fix this situation but what would that look like? What do you do? What can I do? And I still have no answer. The only thing I know to do is to love this tiny person that God has created. To be Jesus with skin on.

It was so weird seeing this blog tonight, and being able to read about Bongiwe's homelife. Her mother's wasting money on alcohol, father's dead, and she's left taking care of her siblings. I remember someone getting upset with all the injustice that we were seeing and one of the leaders said, "It's just the situation they're in." She said it like it wasn't a big deal. Well, yes, it is the situation they're in but it's not fair when we have so much and they have so little. It's not Bongiwe's fault that her mother does drugs and that she's not able to eat days at a time. I wish I could make a difference in her life. I want to go back so bad to make a difference. To show her more of God's love, more of the unconditional love that she doesn't find at home. My heart is completely broken for her. I feel helpless here. I wish I could do more.

Where do I go from here?

Throughout high school I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life. God had blessed me with a talent, and I wanted to use it and make a career out of it. I decided I was going to illustrate children's books... sounds pretty awesome, huh?
God first started pulling me in another direction when I started working at a daycare. Those kids melted my heart... well some of them anyway. I started questioning my future. What the heck am I supposed to do with my life? I considered changing majors, being a teacher, going into children's ministry... something. I realized that I hate doing art if I'm getting paid for it, and if it became a job I knew I'd come to despise it. I realized I didn't have a passion for it; I was just good at it and enjoyed it.
So, what to do? I just continued on the art path. And to tell you the truth, I think it was because I knew it would be easier. Yeah, I know. Then I signed up to go to Africa. Started questioning whether I could be a missionary. I thought there was no way that would happen, so pushed it out of mind. Then I went to Africa. It stole my heart. Then I had to leave. I can't tell you how much I didn't want to. I knew I could have moved there and been perfectly happy. When I got back, I was a wreck. I wanted to go back so bad. I felt God calling me to live there. Maybe not in Nsoko, but somewhere in Africa. Then after a while I started questioning that. I still missed Africa just as much, but knew I'd miss my friends and family if I moved halfway across the world for at least a year.
What to do? Then I started thinking about maybe doing graphic design stuff at a church and going on their missions. Sounds pretty cool, right? These past few weeks, I've missed Africa so much. It's been intensely tugging on my heart. I feel like I can't be happy unless I'm there. With His children in Africa. 2 months is just not enough. Everything in me wants to hop on a plane and take a visit to Nsoko. Even if I had more than $7 in the bank, this is just not feasable. At this point, I want to live in Africa. Maybe for a year. Maybe for 2. Maybe for even more longterm. But I don't know. I don't know what God has in store for my life. I can't keep choosing the easy way. Africa certainly is not the easy way. Getting my parents' approval is just one of many obstacles. But God is bigger than obstacles.
I miss Africa. God's put that country on my heart so intensely that I can't see myself doing any other thing with my life. Yet, I'm still confused, and I'm still lost.

I Need Africa More than Africa Needs Me

So, you know that video on the Mocha Club website called "I Need Africa More than Africa Needs Me"? If not, watch it here. It describes exactly the way I feel about Africa and the impact it made on me.
When I signed up for the trip I had this notion in my head that these people needed me. I've seen the poverty commercials on television... there's so much heartache, right? So much disease? So much pain? So much hurting? Of course they need me. Of course they need my team. Of course they need our help. And even as the trip drew nearer, I continued to have these thoughts in my mind. We were going to do so much for them. These children don't have parents. They depend on other kids to survive. They need our love. They need our help. All I was thinking was, "How can I help? How can I make a difference?" I thought I was needed. These people have nothing, right? They fight just to fill their bellies once a day. They need my help, right? I have so much I can offer. I come from America for crying out loud. We have more things than we know what to do with. They need me.
Being there for two months, my whole perception was flipped upside down. I need them more than they need me. Much, much more. The joy these people had was incredible. They literally have nothing, yet they have so much joy, so much faith, and so much that they're thankful for. "I bought into the lie that circumstance defines happiness," but it does not. Like I said, these people have nothing, their circumstances are unimaginable. You'd think there'd be no happiness, no joy, no laughter, no smiles. All I saw in Africa were smiling faces, all I heard was laughter. It was incredible. Their faith was incredible. One lady we met on a home visit couldn't get out of bed and she'd been having migraines for months. She was in incredible pain, but I was blown away by the faith she had. She had so much to complain about, so much pain, yet she was rejoicing and praising her Father for the life she'd been given. And she had faith that He would heal her, and if not, it was okay, because there's be no suffering in Heaven. Would you be content and okay with having a migraine every day for the rest of your life? I know I wouldn't. But she was.
They showed us more love than we could have ever shown them. They changed my life. I realized I was the one that needed them. They showed me so much about how my joy should not depend on my circumstances. And I have not been living that out very well. I'm completely broke, and even though they showed me so much about that not mattering, I've been completely stressed and not finding any joy anything because of my circumstances. Who cares if I have no money? Who cares if I can't eat Chickfila whenever I have a craving? Who cares if my bill payments are a little late? They don't have food, yet they find joy in life. They don't let their circumstances determine their joy. They are full of smiling faces even though they are in the depths of poverty. I've been stressed over not having enough money for rent and bills and dues and groceries and I'm pretty sure it's been hard for me to crack a smile. But why? I should find joy in life. I should find joy in the little things God brings me. I want every single thing I saw in Africa to penetrate my heart so that I practice what I've been taught. I don't want my joy to be determined by the "next thing" I need or want. I want to be content and find joy in the circumstances that I'm in.

I need Africa. I was changed. They may need our help, but as for me, I need Africa more than Africa needs me.

Isaiah 55:10-11

A sweet, sweet friend shared this passage with me that helped her while she was in San Antonio for two months. Like me, she had a hard time knowing how much effort, heart, and time she put in her ministry, yet never knowing if it would make a difference...

"As the rain & the snow come down from heaven, & do not return to it without watering the earth & making it bud & flourish, so that it yields seed forth sower & bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire & achieve the purpose for which I sent it." -Isaiah 55:10-11

She said we were there to "plant seeds" which I've heard time and time again, but it's oh so true. While I was in Swazi, I think I kept missing the point, missing the big picture. Sometimes I just thought, 'All I'm doing is playing with some kids'....'All I'm doing is holding her hand'...'All I'm doing is showing her my love.'...'How can that make a difference?' But we were sharing GOD's love. Not just our own. Sometimes it's discouraging to do short-term mission work because in most cases you don't see the fruit of your work, of your effort. We were planting seeds. And that's what we were called to do. One day maybe they'll remember me holding their hand. Maybe one day they'll remember the love I showed them. And maybe they'll realize that love came from somewhere else. Maybe they'll go searching for the truth. And maybe, just maybe they'll find it. We may never see the fruit of it, but we did our part, and that should be good enough for us. We should have trust that God will do the rest, that He'll do His part.
When it was time to leave, I saw so much hurt, so much brokenness, so much heartache. I thought, 'What was the point?' What was the point of staying for two months, building incredible relationships, only to leave. Only to break their hearts. Only to cause pain. Why? What was the point? Well, I don't know how God's going to work in it, but I know He will. I know He'll use that brokenness, that heartache to bring glory to Himself. I know He'll use that to change their lives. I know He'll come through and do His part. I have to put trust in Him that it wasn't for nothing. Because at the end of the day you have to have faith, you have to have trust.

Philippians 1:3

"I thank my God every time I remember you." You have no idea how incredibly thankful I am for you guys. You were with me each step of the way. Before I went to Swazi, you gave. You gave your prayers, you gave financially, you gave your encouragement, you gave your love. While I was in Swazi, you continued to give. You prayed. You fought for me and for my team. You were with me each step of the way, and I was always thinking of you. You guys went to Swazi this summer too, and for some of you, a little part of you is still there. And now, I'm back in the States. Depressed. In a foul mood. Not any fun to be around. Yet you still give. You give your love, you give your prayers, you give your encouragement. I would have never been able to do this without you. You helped love on these children. You helped build carepoints. You helped heal the sick. You helped encourage the oppressed. You helped defend the cause of the fatherless. You helped plead the case of the widow. You. You were there each step of the way, and I could never, ever thank you enough. I'm so blessed to call you friends. I'm so blessed to call you sisters in Christ.

So much despair, yet so much beauty

One of the things we discussed while we were in Swazi was how much the country reminded us of death and despair, yet how incredibly beautiful God made it. When I first got back to America, I was taken aback by how green it was. I didn't really fully realize it in Swazi, but everything is brown. There's dust everywhere. There's no grass, and the little grass that was there is was brown. There are thorn bushes everywhere and so many thorns on the ground (trust me, my feet know all too well about those darn thorns). There were these trees/bushes that we called death bushes. They were intense. The thorns on them were at least 4 inches long. But everything was death and despair, yet it was so incredibly beautiful. Sometimes we just had to stop and look in awe at what God has made. And the stars there. They were unlike anything I've ever seen. I wish we could have captured it so we could share it with you guys, but that's kind of the beauty of it too. It just can't be captured because it's so incredible.
The landscape of Swazi is so much like the people there. So much despair, yet so much beauty. We saw sickness. We saw helplessness. These people have nothing. They wear the same clothes day in and day out simply because they can't afford more clothes. There are children running around naked just because there is no money for any kind of clothing. People sleep in freezing cold weather, with intense winds just because they don't have money to fix the gaping holes in the sides of their houses. We met one lady on a home visit that can barely walk because of some kind of illness, so all she can do is lay on the concrete floor inside her hut. There were no mattresses, no mats, just concrete. And the house was falling apart. I can't even describe it. I said there were gaping holes, but imagine ten times worse than that. And the night before was one of the coldest nights we had, probably below freezing. And the wind was insane; we could hear the roof of the center blowing and shaking because it was so windy. We got to sleep in nice, warm sleeping bags while this woman and her children possibly had a cover, if that. She slept on the cold, concrete floor. And I can't even imagine when it rains. Like I said, despair, poverty, brokenness, sickness, death. And even with all these things these people are fighting against, they find so much joy in life and so much joy in the Lord. So much despair, yet so much beauty. Their faith was incredible. Inspiring. These people have nothing and need so much, and they have so much faith that their Father will provide. We went there to try and be a blessing to them, but we left with them being such a bigger blessing to us than we could ever dream of being. The things they were thankful for was incredible. If you were to ask someone here what they were most thankful for, they'd say their house, their car, their iPhone, you name it. We asked the Swazis so many times what they were thankful for, and nine times out of ten they were thankful for their lives. They were grateful just to still be living. I don't know about you, but I don't really think about being thankful for my life. I don't know if it's because we don't see as much death as they do, but I definitely take my life for granted. They see death and sickness every single day so they don't take their lives for granted like we do. They know it's a huge possibility that they might not be alive the next day or that they may lose a child the next day to AIDS, or TB, you name it. And with all this, they still find joy out of life. They find joy in the little things. There was a boy at our carepoint who loved playing with a tire. He'd play with it for hours. Can you picture an American kid finding joy and contentment out of playing with a tire? All the toys they had were broken. They loved playing with this broken bicycle around the center that would most likely be in a dumpster here. It didn't have a seat. Either one or both of the pedals were missing. It only had one tire. Yet they played with it and they loved it. They find joy in so many little things that we pass off as garbage. They find such joy in life that we take for granted everyday. These people are incredibly beautiful. Their hearts are unbelievable. Their faith is incredible. So much despair, yet so much beauty.

Despair. Hopelessness. Poverty. Brokenness.

Death.

Beauty.









"From the highest of heights to the depths of the sea
Creation's revealing Your majesty..."

Neliswa

I only knew Neliswa for a month, but she instantly melted my heart. We were split into 4 ministry groups and each group went to 2 carepoints each week. Halfway through our trip, our groups were all changed around and we got new carepoints after building relationships for the past month. Needless to say, I was a little upset, but it ended up being a huge blessing, partly because of this little girl. She's absolutely precious. I only saw her 3 days. You'd think I wouldn't get that close to a kid after only seeing them 3 times, but I did. The first week we went to this carepoint, I had to stay at the center because my stomach was hurting so bad because of the worms (We didn't know they were worms at the time). Looking back, I wish I had just sucked it up because I would have gotten another day with Neliswa. The following week was my first time at that carepoint. There wasn't any food, so the gogo there wasn't expecting many kids unless they just came because they saw white people. I'm not sure why, but I was just drawn to Neliswa. She's a beautiful girl, and she's kind of different than the others.... even though her hair is super short, you can tell it's somewhat blonde. She's such a sweet girl. She would always kiss me on the cheek and forehead. If I kissed her, she kissed me back. She has one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen. I just love her. We would always just sit together, usually not talking because she didn't know English.
One of my favorite memories is when she came to our party (we killed a cow and fed a ton of kids and the community at a "party" we had the Saturday before we left). I held her the majority of the day. We just sat together like we did at the carepoint and sometimes we would play patty cake games. She started getting sleepy and then she slept on me for a good hour. I wouldn't give that up for anything. I don't know when the last time she was able to fall asleep in someone's arms and I'm so grateful God let me be that for her. After about an hour or so, some people were going to the grocery store nearby so I decided to go with them because Neliswa was somewhat waking up already. We got to the store and we were buying soda and stuff for all the kids that came with us. I didn't have any money so Anna bought me a Fanta. As she was handing it to me, Neliswa interceded and started gulping it down :). So, Anna got me another one. Seeing Neliswa drink that soda was one of the most precious things I've seen. Once we got back to the party, kids were all lined up getting food, so I let Neliswa go get her some food. I didn't see her for a long time. Finally, one of the buses that brought the kids to the center was back. I didn't think much of it, then later I saw Chelsea saying bye to one of her kids. I instantly thought of Neliswa and ran to bus, hoping I wasn't too late. She was in line to get on the bus to grabbed her before she could get in it. I hugged her as tight as I could and got a few kisses before the teacher told me she had to go. Ok, journal time because I have a terrible memory... "I stepped back and just thinking about never seeing her again made me start tearing up. Then some of the team came out of the house with tons of balloons and got on the bus and gave all the kids balloons. I remember thinking how unfair it was that they got to be the last ones that saw my little girl. I wanted to get on that bus, scoop her up in my arms, and never let go. A little later, I went on the other side of the bus and found Neliswa and pressed my hand against the window. She then did the same. Finally, I realized that I could open the window. I got to hold Neliswa's hand and see her beautiful smile once more. When it was time for them to go, I kissed Neliswa's forehead and then she kissed mine. I had to wave goodbye to her and it was such a hard thing to do. The girl slept on me for an hour that day. We had an instant bond at the carepoint. You can't just casually say goodbye and not have your heart broken. I walked away and tried not to think about it. Then the van drove away. Drove away with kids we'll probably never see again." Needless to say, there were tears. I will probably never see Neliswa again, but she'll always have my heart. I hate this. I hate knowing I'll probably never get to kiss her again or hold her again. I love her dearly.

Neliswa at our carepoint

At the party



Sleepy girl :)



Neliswa and her Fanta :)

Colile

She was the sweetest, funniest, loving little girl I've ever met. One that will always be dear to my heart. She and her little sister, Phetsile, were considered "mine" while we were in Nsoko. Until they met EB about halway through the trip, but Colile always remembered me. They would always run to the center, see me, and jump into my arms. It was the sweetest thing ever, I miss it so stinking much. They would NEVER wear their shoes even though had them, and I would joke with them saying the only reason they didn't wear them was so I would carry them. They really didn't know what I was saying because they didn't understand English that well, but Colile would always say, "Yes" with a huge grin on her face and start laughing. I miss the times when I would carry Colile on my back to the center from the soccer field/primary school. I miss her running up and jumping into my arms. I miss twirling her around until I was too dizzy to stand. I miss playing games with her. I miss everything about her. Her smile. Her laugh. She has such a beautiful laugh. I miss her loving heart and the way she looks after Phetsile. Colile always wanted to share her food with me. Even though she barely had anything, she'd still want to share it with me. One time she was eating a grapefruit, and made me eat part of it. Another time she was eating beans or something and made me try it. She was always sharing. Always giving. Such a beautiful heart. Eleven year olds here in America aren't like that. They're different there. Everything is different there.
I remember one day the week before we were leaving when I was holding Colile. One of the Swazis asked me about us leaving. So, I had to explain to them that we were leaving to go home... talk about depressing! Colile gave me this look like, "Are you being serious right now?" (see photo below) and then she did a fakecry on my shoulder. Even though she was faking it, it was still extremely sad and that's when it started setting in that we were leaving so soon. Gosh, I miss her so much and it breaks my heart to think about the possibility of never seeing her again. She touched my heart in so many ways and I will never, ever forget her. When I have a daughter, I'm naming her Colile. She will never leave my heart.

She just makes me smile

This is the look she gave me when I told her we were leaving the following week



The day I left



Colile, Phetsile, and I

Uncomfortable

Living an uncomfortable life. It's what we're called to do. I was "uncomfortable" but the world's standards for 2 months. And it was the best 2 months of my life. And now, here at home, I'm still being called to live an uncomfortable life, and God keeps reminding me of that. I don't exactly have a lot of money, and have no way of making any at the moment. I'm trying to get a job, and I'm waiting for my loan to go through. And until this happens, I have $13 to live off of. I've been craving Chick-fil-a since I was in Africa, but I've been fighting temptation to eat there. I don't like eating cereal with no milk, but I can't spend the money on milk. If anyone knows my eating habits, I HATE eating leftovers, but I've been eating them and have to make them last as long as I can. Yes, it's stressful; it's uncomfortable. But then I'm reminded of my summer. I'm reminded of the kids who are lucky enough to have one meal a day. I'm reminded that their bellies are hardly ever full. I'm reminded that I'm called to live an uncomfortable life. Now, I know whether I'm full or not doesn't affect the big scheme of things, but it reminds me of Nsoko and what it taught me. And I prayed that God would remind me every single day of my summer, so I guess this is just an answered prayer :)

Love.

God did big things this summer, and one of those things was continuing to teach me to love. He showed me a lot about physical touch, not only in my life and my own love language, but also the impact it had on the kids in Swaziland. I think God had me sick all the time for this reason, or at least it was one of the reasons. As much as I wanted to run around and play with the kids all day long, I just couldn't all the time. I was weak and tired 75% of my time in Nsoko. Not a huge deal, but still, I went half way across the world to play with kids and show them the love of Christ. How could I do that by just sitting there? The kids received SO much love just by sitting there and holding my hand or sitting in my lap. The biggest instance of Him showing me the impact of physical touch was in a precious girl named Bongiwe, which I've already blogged about. The first night we bonded through physical touch when she slept on me. And after that, every time we spent time together, it was usually holding hands, sitting together. There was never any talking really, because she knows very little English. So we just sat. And held hands. And thinking about it, you wouldn't really think a close relationship would form from that just because we didn't really know anything about each other. But God really showed me the impact our love had the last couple days I was in Nsoko. On Sunday, the day before we left, Bongiwe found me after church. She had been in children's church and they had drawn pictures. Bongiwe gave me a piece of construction paper that she had drawn a kombi (van) pulling a trailer. She also wrote, "Goodbye" & "I love you Sara." As soon as she handed me that piece of paper, tears started rolling down my face. How could I be leaving this precious girl and possibly never seeing her again? And the next day.... oh man, was it hard. I think I cried the most of our whole team (be proud Lambda family). Bongiwe was there first thing in the morning. She had skipped school just to be there. When we were finally done with our chores I was able to go outside and hold her hand.... for the last time. She was standing there and tears started slowly rolling down her cheeks. After a little while, we were sitting down next to the house.... holding hands and crying together. Eventually she had her head in my lap, and the girl was sobbing. She was sitting there, holding my hand, with her head on my lap, bawling for at least an hour. And I'm not even exaggerating. Her shirt was soaked with her tears, and even my jeans were soaked as well. The same girl that I had exchanged very few words with was bawling on my lap because she didn't want me to leave. I was able to show her love just by sitting with her. Just by holding her hand. And I always have to remind myself that the only reason I'm able to love in the first place is because of Christ. One of my team members put it perfectly in a letter she wrote me. She said, "It's like God's love pours out into you and you let it fill you up AND THEN you let it overflow and touch everyone around you." I thought this was such a good visual. God pours His love into us, and we're able to let it overflow into the people around us. And even though I wasn't able to show this girl my love through conversations and games and playing, I was able to show just as much love, if not more, by just simply holding her hand.

Not Fair

God started breaking my heart and molding me from the very first day we were in Nsoko. Our first full day there was the 6th of June, which was a Saturday. We really just took the day to rest from our extensive plane ride and travels from JoBurg to Manzini, then finally to Nsoko. All we did was play with kids, and it was so much fun. We brought a guitar (such a blessing on this trip!) and we played it outside on the back deck for so long. We danced with the kids... yes, I danced... and we had a blast together. We sang, we played games, and I instantly fell in love with the place. Here's part of what I wrote in my journal, "The joy in some of the kids' faces was incredible. Some of them had looks of emptiness that was heartbreaking. The smells were unbelievable." Remembering some of the kids that had empty stares is still heartbreaking. As much as we tried to get them to open up and play, they didn't budge. What kind of tragedies does a child go through that they can't even smile? I saw a lot of empty faces on this trip, and you just don't get used to it. A child should be able to laugh and dance and play and have no worries. It's not like that there. And the smells... I don't think I ever got used to that. We saw the same kids day in and day out and they always had the same clothes on. Water is precious and they can't waste it just to bathe and wash their clothes.
That night, while dinner was being cooked, we saw some kids had come back and were sitting outside. So, Kyra and I went outside to sit with the 4 kids. I recognized one of them from the day when I was playing with her... which at the time I thought was a boy because her voice was so deep from always being sick and coughing all the time. Later I found out her name was Bongiwe, she's 12, and is in grade 4. Anyway, we sat there and I held her hand for awhile. It's incredible how much love they receive just by holding someone's hand. Becca came out with the guitar and sang worship music. A few other teammates came out as well and sat underneath the incredible stars and worshiped God by candellight. By that time I was holding Bongiwe in front of me while I sat on the gravel. She was resting her head on her hand and kept dozing off, so I finally positioned her so she could rest her head on my chest. She slept on me for a good two and half hours, if not more. The whole time I kept wondering when the last time she was held while she slept. Or even when the last time she slept in a warm place. All I could think of doing was pouring out love on her because she probably doesn't get it at home... and much later I found out that her dad ran off or died (I can't remember) and her mom doesn't care about them and does drugs. I didn't want anything to stop God using me to love her. My back hurt after about 20 minutes... my butt was completely numb... she peed on me at some point... but God gave me strength and willpower to persevere through that and not move. I'll never forget sitting there under the stars, holding her, singing to God. Finally Matt, our leader, came outside and saw the kids. He called Pastor Gift to tell him, and he told us we were going to drive them home. We got in the kombi and drove. They have to walk so far. And they didn't have shoes. It's just not fair. We got to their driveway and helped them get out. It was hard just seeing them walk away, not knowing what kind of environment they were going into. Obviously their parents didn't care, because no one came looking for them. On the way back we just rode in silence and I talked to God. It's just not fair. Why should I get fed 3 meals a day when she's lucky to get one, and has to walk miles just to get it? It's not fair that they live in such poverty when we have so much. It's not fair that they don't receive the amount of love they deserve. It's just not fair. The next morning when I was cleaning up breakfast, she was back. So early in the morning, when no other kids were there, she was. She's there all day looking for love because she can't find someone at home to love on her the same way. It's just not fair.

Bongiwe and I

I Left My Heart in Nsoko

Home. I'm back home on America soil, yet my heart is still in Nsoko which has been my home for the past two months. Will I ever feel completely at home here again? I don't know. Will my heart ever be completely whole again? Doubtful. How do you tell people that have become your family goodbye that you may never see again? I may not get to go back to Nsoko. And if I do, there's a very high chance that some of the people I was closest to won't be there anymore whether it's from AIDS, TB, or any other countless disease. I have to say, a lot of tears on my part were involved.
I remember the day God broke my heart. It was weird the whole trip because I never really cried even with all the heartache around me. I teared up a few times, but that was it. Well, 4 days before we left, the floodgates opened. My ministry team and I had been visiting a woman, Pauline, and her 3 or 4 year old grandson, Wiseman, a few times during the last month or so. This woman has the most joy I've ever seen. It's incredibly beautiful. We had been playing worship songs at church and we sang I'll Fly Away and she told us how much she enjoyed us singing. We decided to go back and play music for her... her own personal, private concert. So Austin, Anna, and I went and we took along Becca and the guitar. The first song we sang was More Than Life and as we were singing, Pauline was crying. When we were done with the song, Pauline told us, via our translator Thandie, that she was so sad we were leaving. We're the only people that ever come to visit her and invest in her. She knows people in the community, but no one ever comes to visit her and spend time with her. What's going to happen to her spirit now that we're gone? Is God going to send someone her way to invest time with her? We continued singing after we spoke a few words of encouragement. I looked around. Pauline was still crying. Thandie was crying... they were not only our translators, but our family. The dam broke and I cried. I can handle my pain and my sadness, but knowing the affect our departure was going to have on the Swazi people was what I couldn't take. We get to come back to America with our families and friends and continue our life. These people don't have that. When we left, they had to go back to their old lives, with the same people, the same heartache, and the same pain. And they were sad to see us go. Our leaving affected them just as much as it did us, if not more. As we were singing, we all sobbed. We were all heartbroken. When we finished the last song, we talked to Pauline and Thandie translated for us. A few sentenced were spoken and as Thandie was trying to translate she had to stop because she couldn't speak. She was weeping. I went to sit next to Pauline and Anna and I prayed for her as Austin and Becca prayed for Thandie. That was hands down the most intense worship session ever. And I was broken. There were many, many more tears the next 4 days, especially the day we left, but I'll save that for another post.
I miss everything about Nsoko and I don't know if I'll ever be able to heal completely. I miss my two girls, Colile and Phetsile. I miss constantly having kids around. I miss kids sitting on my lap until I couldn't feel my butt anymore. I miss the thorns even though they killed my feet. I miss not showering for 14 days and not being judged. I miss worshiping with my team. I miss sitting outside with Becca while she sang... just me, her, and God. I miss blowing up Axe bottles and bug spray cans in our fire pit. I miss the landscape of Nsoko and the lack of color. There's too much color here in America when they don't have any. I miss sitting with Bongiwe and holding her hand. I miss watching net ball and soccer with the Swazis. I even miss being sick. And all my little wormy friends living inside me. I miss walking to the little store with my team and some kids, buying them soda and seeing the joy on their faces as they drank it. I miss walking to the train tracks with Becca to go spend quiet time with God. I miss smashing coins and bottle caps at the tracks. I miss making balloon animals (yes, I went to Africa and learned how to make balloon animals). I miss having dirty feet. I miss all 17 of us squeezing into our kombi, aka van. I could go on and on. I miss everything, good and bad.

Pauline, Wiseman, Anna, and I the day we left Nsoko

My girls, Colile and Phetsile

God. Is. Amazing. And this picture doesn't do it justice.

Our kombi... it doesn't look sketch at all...

Abbie and Phiwa

Neliswa

Phiwa and I... cutest baby I've ever seen

Colile and I... the day we had to say goodbye

Andy Stanley... in a mall in South Africa. Crazy, huh?

Abbie, Anna, me, and Becca

I'm Leaving... on a Jet Plane

Well, I'm leaving tomorrow for training camp before we fly out to Swazi. I don't have much time to make this a great post or anything seeing as I still have to pack my personal suitcase and carry-on and it's already 4 in the morning. Good thing I'm used to not getting much sleep! I'm leaving the house around 3:30. I'll probably have my phone so I can text and such, but I can't take it to camp so once I get there, that's it. I'll try to update this every time I get a chance to go to an internet cafe. I was told it would be every couple weeks or every week, but sometimes we just have to go with the flow if things aren't as expected. And you can send me emails as well! I can check that and respond if I have time. Thank you for all your prayers. I appreciate them all and they mean the world to me. I love you all.

... not by sight.

Some of you know that I've kind of been freaking out about going to Africa. All these "what ifs" kept popping into my head and I couldn't shake them. What if I don't measure up to my teammates? What if something happens to me and I leave my family behind? What if? Everyone on my team keeps reminding each other, "11 more days!!" "10 more days!!!!" Everyone was so excited, and I said I was too. In actuality, it freaked me the heck out. How could I be leaving in less than two weeks? It was so easy to think about it months ago because it wasn't as real. Now, it's 9 days until I leave and it's more real now than ever. I think I had kind of forgotten why I'm going to Africa. My mind was too overpowered by all these negative thoughts. I think God's given me angels as friends... they've been so encouraging and their prayers have been felt SO much, especially in the past day or two. I feel like God is giving me reminders in why I'm going. I found a quote on some guy's profile that I've never met... insomnia leads to stalking! Don't judge me for being a creeper. The quotes goes like this: "as long as we are seeking God there will be challenges before us. Whether we accept or deny them, determines whether we are in fact still seeking." When I read that 2 days ago, it just hit me: I'm going to Africa to seek God. No matter what challenges I face, I'm going to continue to seek Him. He's called me to Africa to live for 2 months... and though that may be scary and present challenges, I'm going because I'm seeking Him. How could I have forgotten something as basic as that? I don't know, but God's brought that truth back into my heart via a stranger's Facebook profile.
Also, I think a lot of my fears have to do with the unknown. I know God's going to push me out of my comfort zone, but I have no idea what that entails. I know I'm going to be pushed physically, spiritually, and mentally, but I still have no idea what that entails. I know I'm going to a country full of diseases, but I don't know what that entails. But isn't that where faith comes in? God kind of reminded me of the name of my blog. Walk by Faith... not by sight. I may not know what's going to happen in Africa, but I know it's where I'm supposed to go... so I have faith that it will be good. One of my favorite quotes is by MLK Jr., and he said, "Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." In the past, I've taken this first step even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. Recently, I took this step, knowing it was what God was calling me to do. I was scared to death, yet I trusted and had faith. I haven't seen the full frution of this, but I've already seen so many blessings from it already. So, what makes going to Africa any different? It may make me a little nervous, but God's got my back. God is going to take care of me, and has my best interests at heart. Jeremiah 29:11 says "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" Such a basic verse that I've heard so many times, but it packs such amazing truth. God has my life planned out. I know this is exactly where I'm supposed to be right now, and that should be good enough for me.

But the Greatest of These is Love

1 Corinthians 13:13: "And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love." Do you ever love someone so much you think your heart might burst? Or you just want to cry? I don't know, maybe I'm the only crazy one. I think that love is one of the greatest gifts God's ever given us. We are called to love everyone unconditionally; that's what He did for us. Sometimes I wonder if I love people too quickly and too intensely, but I don't think you can love someone too much. I genuinely love the people that I'm going to Africa with, and I've never even met them. We've talked on Facebook and that's it, yet I really and truly love them. I fell in love with my Alpha Gam family almost instantly. And my love for them has grown pretty intensely. What can I say... we're pretty amazing. I loved my Big before I even knew she was going to be my Big, before I even knew her name. Watching the season finale of Grey's reminded me that I'm not guaranteed a tomorrow, and that we must tell those we love how much they mean to us. I might say "I love you" too much, and I don't want it to get worn out, but when I say it, I sincerely mean it. I don't want to leave this earth without telling the ones that mean the most to me how much I love them. Sometimes I want to say, "I love you so much I want to just squeeze you until your eye-balls pop out." But that might be kinda creepy... and gross.
And then there are those that we have to choose to love... not because we want to necessarily, but because we are called to. There are some people that may get under your skin and you have to make yourself think good thoughts about them. Sometimes it's hard. It's easy to love your friends to death, but it's another story to love the people you might not be too fond of. But it's what we're called to do as followers of Jesus. He loved us ALL so much that He laid down His life for us. He did that even for the people that chose not to love Him. That is the kind of love that I want to have. I want to love every single person in my life unconditionally, even the ones I don't really like.

Here are my 25... make that 15...

Well, insomnia is winning yet again. I'm bored and can't think of anything original to write about, so I'm going to one of those annoying generic Facebook lists.
Here are 25 random things you may or may not know about me:
1. I'm an insomniac, clearly you know that already.
2. I'm going to Africa in less than 3 weeks, which I'm kind of freaking out about. Don't get me wrong, I'm way excited about it and looking forward to it more than anything at the present time.
3. I'm an artist. Everything I own has at least a little bit of paint on it.
4. I'm OCD with my art. My drawing teacher always gets mad at me b/c my work is too "tight." I just want to tell him that's how I draw and to get over it.
5. I've wanted to illustrate children's books since I was in high school. Now I pretty much know I don't want to do art as a living and want to go into children's ministry.
6. I tend to be a grammar nazi. It drives me absolutely insane when people mistake "your" and "you're" or "there" "their" and "they're"... basically anything like that drives me crazy. (thought you'd appreciate that Linds)
7. I go through phases of music. I used to listen to country all the time, then went to pop/rock, then punk and emo, and now I listen to praise music all the time, and I don't think that will change.
8. North Georgia is where my heart is. Not so much the place (although it is beautiful and I love it), but the people there. Going to school there was the best decision I've ever made.
9. With that, I of course have to say that joining Alpha Gam was one of the best decisions I've ever made as well. My sisters are incredible, not to mention my family. They are my heart.
10. I love kids. I used to work at a daycare and although some days I'd want to pull my hair out, it was always, always worth it.
11. I can't help but want a baby. Call me crazy, but I just want one (don't worry though). My friends make fun of me b/c I'll see a precious baby and say "Aww, I want one!"
12. I'm kind of a nerd. I love math and sadly get enjoyment out of taking tests and working through problems. Go ahead... laugh. I also love to read.
13. I want a tattoo on the arch of my foot. I don't know if this will ever happen... 1. I hate needles and 2. my dad would NOT be very happy with me.
14. I'm a listener, not a big talker.
15. Jesus is everything to me and I want to live my life to glorify Him.
Actually, let's make this 15 random facts otherwise this post will be a mile long. Plus, I'm getting tired.

Are you excited?

People keep asking me if I'm excited. Am I excited to go halfway across the world to share the Gospel to tons of children who already have my heart? Heck yes, I'm excited. But with that excitement comes fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of getting out of this box that I've put myself in. Fear of being thrown out of my comfort zone. But at the same time I'm excited about all these things that I fear. Who wants to be stuck in their comfort zone? There isn't any room for growth, and I want to grow. I want to grow as a daughter of Christ. I want to grow in my relationship with Him. In the instances that we grow the most, we are thrown out of our comfort zone into a whole new territory in which we must trust our God with everything we have. It's both exciting and scary at the same time, almost like a circle of emotions. I'm excited to go to Africa, but scared of being out of comfort zone. At the same time, it's exciting for the chance to grow. It's exciting for the chance to change people's lives forever. It's exciting to be able to do some good in this world. It's exciting to have to NEED my Lord, Jesus, to get through it. Am I excited? Yes, I'm excited.

People keep asking about the dangers I may face in a foreign land, "full of diseases" as my dad would say. Well, you know, I have no idea what's going to happen, but I know that it will be God's will. The majority of my family are against me going because they're afraid of what may happen to me. Well, if it's God's will for me to come back safe, healthy, and stronger than when I left, I will. There's no doubt in my mind that God's will is good, whatever that may be. Am I afraid? Well, wouldn't you be? But still, with this, comes excitement. I'm excited to see God's will carry out. I'm excited to lean on Him and trust in Him to keep me safe, it that is indeed the plan. Relying on my God excites me because I know that having to rely on Him brings growth. I want to start in becoming the woman I was meant to be. I am changing: less and less asleep. Made of different stuff than when I began. Am I excited for this? Yes, yes I am.