memories of a land beyond

I never imagined that when I came home this last December that time would stretch on until now without my feet hitting the red dusty soil of Uganda.

 Sometimes as I'm working here stateside something as simple as a sound or brief glance at pair of shoes or the way someone pronounces a word will take me back to a memory of life there and cause a deep aching down in the pits of my stomach. Such recollections are the secret places my mind wanders to when there are no other thoughts to entertain. They are the memories stowed away that only one who has traveled to such a land will ever be able to relate and recite alongside.

It makes for an often lonely road of great missings. No one to laugh at the peculiarities, to remember the sounds of the chickens flying down from their coops in the morning, how everyone greets one another from shops and homes and road side wanderings. How there is no stranger among one another, how the language sounds like a song being sung in a key I've never heard but am beautifully drawn to. Oh, the smiling faces, warm greetings, glorious friendships and bright burning sun! I miss the mornings in my hammock before the rays became too hot to enjoy the company of a book or the way our house flooded with people from sun up to sun down and how I rode my trusty motorcycle to what sometimes felt like the ends of the earth. I miss the toil and hardship, the reward and long sigh that comes at the end of a well earned day.

How I long to be asked just one more question about what mystery lies beyond these oceans. One more chance to recite a story or to simply lay out the exotic monotony of our days there together. Sometimes I feel this great pull within myself to always remember and not forget. But how does one continue to relive memories that no one else around can understand and that no one else has seen or heard? It's the tension I long to find rest in.

There is one thought that offers me abounding hope and joy in the midst of the longing. Soon enough a piece of my world will be crossing oceans to meet me here in this strange, foreign land. A daily reminder of the sound, life, beauty and joy of our existence in the pearl of Africa. A reminder that nothing real can be threatened or forgotten. And though our feet are far from reaching those dusty red shores, our hearts together can leap to lands beyond.

Oh, how I've waited for you, my love. To remember together, at last.

Gracefully suspended

Suspended. Hanging. Stuck.

Those would be my choice words to explain the feeling of the last six months and even more so, the last three weeks.

Being stuck in this tension between believing God for miracles in the process of our visa, our marriage, our future while trusting Him with all outcomes. All. Every detail, every piece, every outcome.

There is absolutely no doubt that God has done some pretty ridiculous miracles in the last few weeks (approving our petition in less than three months instead of the five months we were given, providing miraculous appointment openings for Emma's medical exam, even when I forgot to prepare the payment for it! Also, the fact that Emma's been sustained since his arrival in Kenya and not to mention the dreams God would give the both of us while we slept, confirming our next steps).

But I'll be honest.... this last week has been one of the most trying times for the both of us because who REALLY knows what it looks like to be suspended between believing God for more in this process, while also trusting that He is good, faithful and intentional in each and every outcome? And goodness, will we trust Him when it looks different than what we expect?

I felt a lot of frustration in the fact that things have been so miraculous and speedy and then now at the very last minute when things are supposed to move the quickest, we are getting a lot of opposition and delay. I mean, come on, God! We've been faithful, obedient and believed for impossibilities, what is going on?

The beautiful thing about God is that He doesn't withdraw or withhold himself in the midst of our dissatisfaction and disgruntlement, He embraces us in our messy state. He asked me a simple question,

"What if my faithfulness towards you has nothing to do with what you can do for me? What if I told you to do nothing and I still did miracles for you?"

THAT is the beauty of faith. Faithful resting in who He is. Not what we can do, not in our own faithfulness but simply in how good and faithful He is in us!

I felt His gentleness, His faithfulness and goodness undoing all disappointment.

When the outcome looks different, do we still trust? Do we still fight the urge to fall under fear that we've done something wrong or heard incorrectly about the process? Or do we hide beneath the feelings or frustration and disappointment?

I think it almost seemed easier to believe in faith for the miraculous than to believe in His sustenance and purpose in the waiting. I'm learning that the process is more important than the destination or outcome I've been straining for. He is interested in who we are becoming through trying times, when we feel stretched, stuck and disappointed. It matters to Him that we experience the truth of His faithfulness.

The Lord gave me a picture yesterday of an aerial silks dancer and told me that I'm not just hanging and waiting for the next thing to happen but He's teaching me what it looks like to bring beauty into this season of waiting. 

Gracefully suspended, He says.

The surprises of Jesus

Two hard years in Uganda. I was just shifted from Western Uganda, a place that I loved and could have spent years serving. I felt sad that in light of all the ministerial politics, I was the one who received what felt like punishment for the wrongdoings of another. Being uprooted from the place I felt undeniably called to would have been an impossible task without the overwhelming presence of peace.

"Let peace be your compass," I would whisper to my soul. Plus, I had heard that same voice before. The voice calling me to deeper trust, the voice that puts all my fears at ease. I knew I could say 'yes' to that voice and would not be disappointed.

I was moving to Northern Uganda. Leaving the ministry I had known to start anew in a land ravaged by twenty years of war.

I moved right before the end of my second term in October of 2014. Accompanied by two close national pastors from the West and we were as ready as we could be for the adventure ahead. Oh, the surprises of Jesus. Little did I know that I would find something altogether different during my time in the North. And how sweet it is to say 'yes' in the hard places.

We were staying together in a mission's house for about 3 months before I had went back to the States to recoup and prepare for another term. During the three months, we had already started our church plant and I had found a group of widows and single mothers to work with teaching skills to empower their future. It was exciting and challenging, being a stranger in a new land, knowing not the language or customs of the North. It was a new dimension living as the only white with my Ugandan brothers. Eating plain rice with potatoes and beans at every meal stripped away the comfort and preference I had enjoyed in Hoima. But at every point of pain and new growth I felt the LORD speaking that if I could live this next year with the different nations of the world, I would learn a greater expression of His Kingdom. Little did I know that this was preparation for the rest of my life.

I met Emma (Emmanuel) during those first three months. (My dad had asked me if Emma knew that his name was a woman's name in America and the cultural differences are really far and wide so I just keep laughing. So many men are called Emma there that I've forgotten that it may sound strange at first.) I didn't know at the time that the Northern tribe was so beautifully different from the various tribes I had worked with from the past and that with time, the people there (and Emma in particular), would break down the assumptions and judgments I had placed on the Ugandan people at large.

Emma is a carpenter and a close friend to the land lady's son who was staying with us. So he became a familiar face at the house and our church began giving him contracts to make our benches and pulpit. He was kind and gentle, hardworking but shy. I gave no extra thought or attention to anyone actually, so I enjoyed our little friendship and working together with him for the church. I remember one instance before I had left for the States, I was checking on some of our orders at his workshop and as I was leaving, he smiled and handed me 2,000 shillings (the equivalence of almost a dollar). He said, "go and get yourself a soda." I was stunned and blessed. So many seek 'the white' for money but now I was being given money to treat myself to a cold soda? Dismayed and pleasantly confused.

Nonetheless, I left to the States with no thought in mind or intention to ever consider a local for a relationship. And honestly, it just wasn't on my radar.

When I returned to Kitgum, I was full of new vision and life. Time at home was refreshing and sweet and I was excited as ever for this new journey I was on. I felt deeply in my spirit that this year, was the year to express the fullness of what I believe and know the Gospel to be. We wanted to feed the spirit, strengthen the body AND family structure while breaking spiritual bondages. Believing that there is no poverty in God's Kingdom means that we need to teach and empower people to break free from those crippling cycles. I believe that Jesus does just that and that He's given us all creativity and resources to unlock those mysteries. That meant for me that I was going to lead new projects this year. I wanted to focus on employing leaders and teaching what business looks like in God's Kingdom. How to start? Who knew... I sure didn't!

Coming back to Kitgum, I got a call from Emma. Seeing as his workshop was only a few minutes away I had no problem riding there to see what he was up to. He met me with a smile and we began discussing what my time in America was like. But this time, as I looked at him, interacted with him and talked with him I found something profoundly strange entering my mind. A thought that had never crossed any piece of my thoughts for any Ugandan I had ever met...
                                                              "This guy is extremely handsome."

Fancy enough, one of the first things Emma asks me was why I wasn't doing more projects. That brought me to express the urgency I felt in my heart this year to do different projects like farming, rearing chicken, buying grass-cutters, serving women and so-on.

He simply replied with the trueness of who he is,

 "I want to help you in any way I can."

So that's how the story goes. We started working to get land to plant some different crops, he would invite me for lunch every day, we started ministering together and I felt the walls coming down. That's how I knew it was a work of the LORD. My heart was being changed. Something I adamantly opposed was now happening and I realized all the wrongs being made right within it. Emma embodies a servant-hearted man. He loves Jesus so much and loves people best. The ways that I feel great in my loving of others, he shows me a new way with a deeper love still. We've navigated the awkward conversations, the blunders that come amidst cross-cultural relationships, the highs and lows of living in such a desperately poor and challenging land and we've come out stronger, and more sure of the sacrifice of love.

I remember the first time we talked about what we were venturing in to. He had come out and told me that he loved me, in which my tender reply was, "how can you love something you don't know?" The words he left me with were so beautifully simple. He looked perplexed and spoke them as though it was common knowledge in the experiences of our heart, "Don't you know that this love is a gift from God?"

And the weeks and months to follow proved just that. Love as such truly is a gift. Emma was that gift to me and as time pressed forward, I was overwhelmed by this extraordinary gift that was unfolding in my heart. This last year I have seen greater favor, blessing and more surprises than I could have ever envisioned. I've spent this last year building a future with a man of integrity and honor and I would have never dreamt that God would leave me with such a precious and wondrous gift to choose for the rest of my life.

Unexpected Freedom

I found Him in the lowly face.

As I walked in a rush of heat almost knocked me to the floor. Sitting there, wide eyed, shirtless and bustling with anticipation for our ministry hour were over 200 inmates crammed into their dark meeting hall. An eruption of joy blindsided me as hope radiated from the faces of these captives.

I understood in that moment that I was there to taste the true freedom of these barred walls.

We began dancing and in unison their voices rose. When we praised, shirts were lifted and thrown in the air as they leapt off the floor. As they sang, "WE ARE VICTORIOUS! WE ARE VICTORIOUS!" with bellies full of joy, shouting erupted among the masses. Never could I imagine in such a place, being given wild permission to hand my heart over in total surrender to the one I love.

After the dancing, the sweating and the fullness of His presence, we entered into a time of testimonies.

One man exclaimed that him and his inmates were truly the worst in all of society, that we could hardly imagine the places they've walked but with laughter he praised,

"God has found us in such a place and it's here that we now have hope. We would avoid church at any cost when we were out there and who could imagine that we would all look forward to this day now."

Others shared tales of undeserved life in moments met by the face of death. They gave thanks for times of beauty in their hardened world. Of the hundreds of men, I could count not a single shoe among them but surely nothing bypassed their hearts of gratitude.

Looking around the room, I saw men living out their final years locked away, others far younger than the students that I've grown to love, but all holding one thing in common:
outcasts found by a faithful and just friend in the coarsest of places.

We closed our time with outstretched hands, touching mercy, embracing grace and praying courage over hungry souls.

In the vastness of this world before me, I found freedom in this imprisoned place.

When silence speaks

When silence speaks, will we be present to hear what is being spoken?

My headphones are in but it's almost a foreign motion these days, I use it just as a front now. No music is playing and I hardly notice. I've forgotten how common the constant lull of noise is in life.
Perpetual silence has become my every day reality.

I've learned a hard lesson in these last two months without power. No means to charge my laptop, limited internet access, darkness before 7pm, dead iPod and dead phone with no hope of distraction or entertainment. Budgeting my battery life means parting with playing music as I work or clean. I've endured many quiet nights by candle light, sorting through a laundry list of thoughts which seem to present itself best on a silent backdrop. I've faced what feels like utter nothingness and complete boredom as I fight to find something to pass the time.
Most of all, I've learned what it takes to embrace silence.

Within the first month of moving here to the north, a place in which I have no history, my two fellow housemates traveled back to Hoima from where we came. I was left alone in a house with over 9 rooms and a compound that could swallow a small duplex in America. No power, no person, no entertainment, no other option. Silence felt like a madness the first few days. How I was longing for deeper human connection than the strangers I was just beginning to know. How I dreamt of calling my loved ones back home, talking over the small nuances of the day, over the new things I was learning or maybe the challenges I was facing. I spent much time imagining what my friends were doing, wishing I had a way to distract myself and feeling the frustration of having something that I felt entitled to withheld. I wasted a lot of time running from silence.

When silence speaks she tells us of the everyday joys that are awaiting. Of the simplicity longing to be held and the power of a quiet moment within our hearts.

I'm learning to see silence as an opportunity to listen. To hear what my heart says. To sieve through the clutter of self-entitlement, disappointment and discouragement and to cling tightly to words of hope and faith. I'm learning to listen to the Spirit of God, to take more time in prayer and to truly enjoy every moment in His presence. Silence has taught me great appreciation for prolonged simplicity. We can praise simplicity when it's convenient but once you find yourself stumbling around after your candle has gone out, or needing to reply pressing emails, it seems to be another story. I've learned deep gratitude for the moments I do have to use my computer, to post a picture or reply to a friend.

I'm learning how to still my mind from all the worries of the day. I've grown to love belaboring in the afternoons, barefooted in the dirt, preparing the land for the quiet dreams that God is speaking to me. I can sit and watch my chicken scour the land and find perfect pleasure in doing so.

I'm learning to be present and unafraid of what silence is speaking.

Love remembers no wrong...

Furious love.
It's the only way I can begin to describe the last 10 months. At every end, in every fear, in loss, celebration, joy and difficulty, I feel this endless pursuit after my heart.

Not many of you know but this last week marked the third theft that I've experienced in the last seven months.

It began when I moved into my new house in a part of town that is known to be a slum area. Though the place I stayed was close to the main road and quite safe, I still became a target of theft. They watched my moves and staying alone, I was an easy victim. I used to leave my windows cracked open at night (though there are burglar bars and no way for full entrance) I woke up to a face in my window, curtains pulled back and an arm reaching down into my bedroom. It was the beginning of a home marked with fear. He was unsuccessful this time around but little did I know he would come back for a second round. I changed my habits, closing my windows when I slept but opening them for a short while when I first came home. Church members would walk me in to my gate and watch me lock up. It only took one week until he came back with success. After losing my wifi router and feeling vulnerable and full of fear, I didn't sleep much for almost a month. Even after getting a dog to guard the place, I worked full time as a second night watchman. I could jump to my feet at the sound of a grasshopper and I was beyond weary from the lack of peace. I prayed, I sang, I got screens on my windows, I trained a tough dog but still struggled with this gripping fear. It was hard to see the spiritual battle at hand when all fronts were being attacked. Conflict at work, no peace at home and the lingering question if there would be any end in sight to all this struggle. Thankfully, with the arrival of my first American volunteer in May, finally, I slept. No longer did I worry about what awaited in the night and peace was restored.

With the question of outside thieves far from my mind, a new battle arose.

The ones I had loved most, poured my heart into, my time, finances and energy began stealing from me. They were the ones I longed most to see and experience the reality of Christ's furious love. I was aware of what was going on and would sit them down, confront them, counsel them and give them opportunity to confess and be restored but they weren't willing to open their hearts to the truth. I had options, I could have told them to leave, I could have locked every precious thing but still all I could hear is, "Love always trusts, Lindsey. Show them that furious love. They aren't thieves, they just don't know who they are. Don't define them by their mistakes, call them to their truest identity." Clothes went missing, shoes, money but still I kept telling them, "You are not thieves, you are powerful, responsible, and deeply loved. Start living out of that identity and take responsibility for the things going on." I could ask them what they were going to do about the things that went missing. I saw change in one of them in particular. They had brought back one of the things they stole but the other was still full of hardness and pain. Eventually things escalated and the one continued to steal and left my place altogether on their own terms. When that one left, they had taken my hard drive with all my files since I first got my laptop in 2008, they had replaced my money with fake money and went off with the rest of my U.S. cash (only about $40 that I was saving for my airport travels). By the time I realized it, they were staying in another city and I was left absolutely crushed. I had done everything I could think of to show them the goodness of God. I would pray with them, read the Bible to them, laugh, play, counsel and pour what I had into their lives but I was left only with the feeling of utter betrayal.

I pulled myself away from all the people I thought were involved. I thought about reporting it to the police, trying to put them in jail for a night, making them repay everything they stole but every thought of vengeance was met with His words, "Show them my furious love. Don't give up on them." God continued to speak His truth into my life. They would usually bring me to tears, revealing every broken wound I was carrying deep in my heart. But He is so faithful, friends. He bound up every ache and kissed every pain back to life. I eventually started visiting the one who stole from me at their home. God kept speaking to me from 1 Corinthians 13. "Love remembers no wrong..." That person was well aware that I knew what was done and they were steeped in shame but with every visit they experienced the mercy and forgiveness of Christ. I could come with sweets for their kids and some small things to give to them. Eventually after many visits, all those relationships found restoration all before I moved North. All those who took from me came for a farewell party, bought me gifts and helped me pack my things for my move. One of them even came and asked forgiveness for all the ways they wronged me. It was the Kingdom of God touching the darkest of places. It was His furious love, restoring life! I never recovered my possessions or the money I had lost but broken relationships being restored was enough for me. I was being changed by the unstoppable love of God.

Leaving Hoima was difficult, despite the 9 months of so many challenges and disappointments, all I could remember was the faces that I've grown to love and the relationships God had given me. But as I've continuously learned, there are far better things ahead than anything you can leave behind. Excitement rang through my bones thinking of a new start in Kitgum. I would have freedom from the leadership that was oppressing me, opportunity to dream and envision all the Lord had in store and a clean slate to begin from! After only three days in our new home, I went looking for my suitcase that was holding all the clothes I usually wear in a week but all in vain. To my shock, it too had been stolen. It took three days after the incident to realize that the chances of it being returned were very slim. I allowed myself to cry for the first time. It wasn't for the clothes that I cried but for the continual squeeze that I felt my heart was undergoing to continue to trust and love those around me and those I had yet to encounter. It was painful. I had to deal with the bitter loss of more of my things but God's faithfulness endures! People came together, asking how they could help, comforting, supplying towards my needs and looking after my life. I was in complete awe!

Now,  I could hardly imagine that there was still something better that had yet to come... The ones who had previously stolen from me heard about what happened here in Kitgum and went to the markets and shopped for tops, skirts and even a pair of shoes that they sent to me here! Can you imagine the redeeming love of God! In Christ, the best has always yet to come!

The furious love of God cannot be stopped until it captures every heart through His mercy and grace.

Be satisfied

I sat in the plane, totally in awe that I could fly around the world in less than a day. That a simple plane ride connected me from my place of birth to the place of my deep longings. It made the world seem small.
Only a plane ride and I would be home.

It was the first time flying that I never once felt anxious. Excitement grew in my spirit and peace filled my bones.
I could hardly believe that this was the fourth time stepping back into this beautiful country.
I prayed quiet thanks and declared goodness over the months to come. So much anticipation, so much joy.

I quickly gathered my bags and stepped into the hot air. It was late when I got in but it felt like a perfectly warm summer night. I forgot what it was like to not need a coat.
The air, the night life, the bustling city, all of it was so sweet.
And I breathed it in with deep satisfaction.

The drive the next day was a rush of all the little things that I so love...
Kids playing with tires, shops along the road, miles of endless green, banana plantations, bicycle and motorcycle taxis, mothers washing buckets of clothes, men digging deep in the red soaked soil, community gatherings, neighbors visiting one another, movement, stillness, simplicity.

It's hard to fully describe what it's like to be here but it just feels right. There is such profound contentment when you step into what God has created you for. It's a smile that continuously stretches itself across my face. It's a continual enjoyment of the little things. Birds singing melodies, my sun licked face, bright faces and a warm welcome.

It's making a home inside the heart of God.

“You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you.”
-Frederick Buechner

The ordinarily beautiful

I've been back in the states for almost a month and a half now... It's been a whirlwind of trying to rest, while enjoying and squeezing each moment with those I'm with. I love seeing my nephew light up and laugh endlessly at the silly faces I make. I've loved sitting quietly, playing cards with my grandma. I love the choices in the grocery store and the ridiculous amounts of baked goods that have come out of our oven.

It's been a much needed trip home to see my family but something I love the most is getting to invite people to see a glimpse of Uganda. I always laugh because when I'm there, there is nothing extraordinary about my simple life. But something grand happens when I share it with others, the ordinary begins to abound in beauty and wonder.

I'm always wondering what you imagine when I describe the work I do...
When I tell you that I work with HIV+ women, what do you see?

Can you see the radiating beauty of the simple smile that stretches across Plaxceda's dark and weathered face as she faithfully presumes her timely arrival? Can you hear them all shouting their local greeting with great joy in their bones when they find me every Sunday, waiting patiently for their coming? Can you hear the tenderness and forgiving laughter when as I apologize breathlessly for arriving late, yet again? ...I always forget how long that walk takes me... Do you hear the songs on their lips as they work and the chatter of a long week that needs catching up? Can you feel the weight of carrying families upon their broken and tired backs and the burden of providing for a fatherless society? Yet, I see such ease as they move, such fullness of joy and strong believing hearts.

I no longer have to close my eyes and wonder what to picture or where to put faces.

I see it all.
It settles in those deep places in my heart, which feels a little like that deep longing you get in your stomach when you're remembering both pain and beauty.
I've stopped straining to imagine what this kind of life would look like and I've started to simply step into it.

And I don't quite feel the touch of wonder and glory when I'm just dusting off tables, reminding them to wash their hands so I'll stop having to set aside countless 'brown' beads or in preparing their accounts or spending long hours in my little office. The dust and sweat doesn't seem to transform into gold and honey after a long day. It all feels rather ordinary and tiresome at times. But...

Things don’t have to be extraordinary to be beautiful.
Even the ordinary can be beautiful. 
-Wicker Park 

I'm living that ordinary and beautiful life.

Dear beloved

Dear beloved,
You were seven years old when we first met
I remember the way you would yell out my name when I'd arrive at your place
You and the little one used to shower me with hugs
You always found a place in my lap and climbed straight into my heart
I remember how you used to shine like a diamond
You always made me laugh with your facial expressions and sassy replies
You were your mother's little helper
I remember the day we baked a cake at your place
You sat on your brother's back in a family heap
You used to love when I took your picture
I remember how we danced in church
You were always the first to find me even after a late arrival
You used to hold my hands and laugh with me
I remember the day before you were hit
You sat with me at the office for lunch
You shouted "bye" when I told you, you were leaving without greeting me
I remember seeing your broken body in that hospital
You consumed my hours and days in desperate prayer
You were loved by so many who hoped we'd get to hear your laugh again
I remember the pain of unexpected goodbyes
You were too young to be buried in the earth
You were seven years old when we last met

Dear beloved, 
We still miss you here
I see the way your mother looks at your pictures
I find the courage to ask her which ones she loves the most
We comment on your sweet face and glowing smile
I still cry when I talk about you and the time I spent with you in the hospital
You still touch our hearts and shape our lives.

Dear beloved,
We love you
It's hard to let you go

The end is just the beginning of something new

This year is quickly coming to an end for me here in Hoima. It's hard to bring it all into words as these last two months have been a whirlwind and mighty challenge in light of the year I've spent here. I have about two weeks remaining in this land that I call home and enough loose ends to tie up to keep these hands full and busy.

Despite the busyness and sadness I feel to leave Hoima, I am overjoyed with the firm call God has put on me to serve a second term in 2014! So this visit home will serve as a time to refresh, see my family (my HUGE nephew who is no longer a baby like I remember him), spend the holidays with those I love and raise funds for my next year term. I am looking forward to seeing all my friends and family while enjoying the luxuries of America that I've missed (like cereal, real milk, pie, ovens and good coffee)!

Knowing that I will return to Hoima will make this transition of leaving a little easier, although I know I will still miss the friends and family I have built here in love and ministry.

I would greatly enjoy if you could pray alongside me over a few things as I get ready to visit the states:

•  I'm trying to wrap up my work permit and get it all taken care of for the next year. This process over the last year has been quite the real struggle so I could use favor and ease to make sure I don't find any problems in leaving the country.
• There's a missionary/pastoral retreat from November 3rd-8th in Jinja, Uganda that I know would be a great transition and healing time before heading home. The total cost will be about $285 for me to attend this week. I'm believing God for total financial provision to make this possible! If you'd like to donate for this retreat please email me at wessalindsey@gmail.com or use the link on this page for my PayPal account.
• I need to find a good house to rent for the next year. Pray for the right connections, good location, safety, and an affordable price!
• Pray that I would be able to accomplish all I need to before I go for this trip home! The list always seems to be growing on what I need to finish up and set up for my two month absence.
• Pray for our FAITH Project, which I'll temporarily be handing over to a faithful church member, pray for our village clinic that I've been overseeing, I'm also temporarily handing that over to one of our pastors who works as a doctor, for our Wednesday Bible Studies that I've been teaching, Thursday home Bible studies that I've led, sports ministries at the Secondary Schools and Campus ministries that I've taken part in!
• Lastly, pray over this great community that I've found here. The love I've received from them has moved my heart in tremendous ways and the thanks that I give to God for them is a continuous testimony to His goodness!

On the Nile at the retreat center in Jinja

Look for another post in the next week with some highlights and beauty from this last year!
Thank-you all for your continued support, love and prayers from across the world. You guys are such a significant piece of my work and life here.