An answered prayer for an anxious heart

Here's a crazy cool God story for you.

Saturday evening, January 7th I got back to my apartment at UMHB after being home for a month, and all of a sudden as I sat alone in my apartment I got really homesick. I know. It sounds silly. I got a little teary-eyed, and then the thought popped in my hear, "How much more am I going to miss my family when I'm thousands of miles away from them for so long?" I started bawling in the middle of my apartment by myself, and the waterworks continued for quite a while. I started thinking, "Oh my goodness, what did I get myself into? Did I just make a huge mistake? God, what if this wasn't your plan? What if everything at Passion was my own emotions?" All these doubts started running through my mind. If this was a mistake then God isn't going to provide, and that will just show everyone that I'm being crazy and irresponsible.

After letting my mind run away with me for a little while, I decided I should pull out my Bible. Always a good idea =) So I spent a good amount of time sitting in the quiet stillness of my apartment praying and reading scripture. I read Psalm 34. It begins, "I will praise the Lord at all times. I will constantly speak his praises. I will boast only in the Lord; let all who are helpless take heart. Come, let us tell of the Lord's greatness; let us exalt his name together. I prayed to the Lord, and he answered me. He freed me from all my fears. Those who look to him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces." And David continues on praising God for his goodness and proclaiming his faithfulness to his children. He speaks of our Heavenly Father as our refuge and protection, urging us to cry out to his because he hears us and cares for us. What a beautiful passage! It spoke to my doubting heart and calmed my fears just as the Lord promised. So I told God, "I know you are the one sending me to Uganda, and I know you will provide. But God, I just need some reassurance."

Fast forward two days later to Monday afternoon. The first day of class is over. One of my former instructors sees me visiting in another professor's office. She comes in, hands me a sealed envelope, and simply says, "That is for you. My mother wanted to give it to you before you left to Uganda for the summer but forgot. So that is for when you go back." I found that off with all things considered. At that point she would not have known I was already planning to move back after graduation. Surprised and a little confused, I graciously thanked her several times. Once I left the nursing building, I opened the envelope to find a check dated New Year's Eve (right before I arrived at the Passion 2012 Conference) written to me for $500 from a woman I have never met. And at that moment I felt God whisper to me deep down in my heart "See. I am faithful to provide for my children. I am faithful to provide for my will."

It gives me chills every time I think about it. Isn't that wonderful?!?! God is so good. I haven't even made the first effort to start raising funds. Bye golly, I hadn't hardly told anyone yet. But God, in his goodness, laid it on a sweet woman's heart to write out a check for $500 before he even spoke peace into my heart about moving in Uganda.

A wonderful way to begin a new year!

December 31st arrived, and that meant it was time to head to the Georgia Dome for Passion 2012 - 45,000 college-aged students from around the nation in one place to worship God. That is A LOT of people. God did some awesome things in those 4 days that will carry on for a lifetime to come. I got the blessing to hear what God was doing in the hearts of some other cool college kids in my glitter green family group. But I am just going to share what God did in my heart. When we got to Passion, I was in a funk that first night and then into the next day. You know when you just get in a funk? You feel weird, but you don't know why and you can't explain it. So I started getting these little moments of frustration. "God, why are all these kids around me raising there hands, singing their hearts out, hearing from you, being changes by your Holy Spirit, but I can't even manage to keep my mind focused to sing an entire song or follow a complete thought?" But I trusted that if I remained open, ready, and seeking then God would not be far from me.

On Tuesday afternoon, the second day, I got the chance to meet Beth Moore. Her ministry, Living Proof Ministries, graciously provided a scholarship to pay for my ticket at Passion, and she wanted to meet all the girls her ministry had sponsored. After hearing her speak God's encouraging truth into us, she gathered us close and prayed over us. She prayed passionately and powerfully that the Holy Spirit would do a mighty work in some of our hearts and that God would reveal himself in a new way to each of us during Passion, that we would not be bound by any fear or shame but boldly follow the Lord as women of God. I won't ever forget that prayer because that night God answered Beth's prayer in me. The last song before Francis Chan got up to speak, Christ Tomlin told us he wanted to bring some friends up on the stage. Out walks a worship leader from every country that was part of the Passion World Tour - worship leaders from Japan, France, Guatemala, Mexico, and...a worship choir from Uganda. I totally lost it - tears streaming down my face, I could hardly sing. You should see it for yourself. >> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vqDSemdyKG0&feature=related

I don't know if you can relate to this, but I could just feel God stirring my heart. I have been praying since August that God would reveal to me the next step in the part my life plays in His glorious plan. Just the next step. And in that moment when over 45,000 children of God were praising Him in 5 languages and I couldn’t take my eyes off those beautiful chocolate-colored faces singing on stage, I could hear God saying "Kelsey, I want you to go back to Uganda." But all I could think is "Everyone keeps saying I need to stay. I don't want to say I'm moving to Uganda if this is all just emotions. What if I'm wrong? God, if you really want me to go then you will show me again and make it obvious." Well, let me tell you what happens when you say that to God. Francis Chan got up to preach, and he talked about how we underestimate how big God is and the powerful things he can do. He read passages in the Bible that are filled with proof that God can do great and mighty things beyond what we would ever expect, but we lack faith in Him. If we just lived straight from what the Bible told us and had faith that God can do more than we could ever ask or imagine, then crazy things would happen! The whole time as I am listening to Francis, God is telling me, "See, Kelsey. Look how big I am. Just follow my lead, go to Uganda, and I will provide." Then Chris Tomlin gets back up and begins singing a song (and I've never heard it before that night) that says

I will follow you, I will follow you. No turning back, no turning back.

With the cross before me, with the world behind me,

I will forsake all else and follow you. No turning back.

At first I refused to sing it, like it was a binding contract with God that I would move back to Uganda after graduation. I started getting all teary-eyed again because I could feel God saying stronger now, "I want you to go." And I felt something settle on me, overwhelming peace. And even though there was a part of me that was scared I was still at peace. It sounds odd, I know. I kept thinking "Oh gosh. I think that was God making it obvious..." But just in case I wasn't sure yet, Francis Chan starting talking again in the middle of the song. He said, "I know right now God is calling some of you to do some crazy, radical things, and the enemy is going to try to hold you back. But don't let anything hold you back. God is so much bigger than anything Satan can throw at you."....."Alright. Thanks, God. I got it now." Don't pray that God make something obvious unless you really want Him to.

So, surprise!!

I am moving back to Uganda after graduation.

Or maybe that isn’t a surprise some of you at all.

I will be nurse & mommy to 13 precious orphans at Rafiki Africa Ministries Children’s Home where I served last summer.

*more information to come*

What to say

I don't know if it's still normal to feel at a loss for words when I think of the precious time I spent in Africa. But that pretty well describes me.

My mind & heart are still processing everything. I often have this feeling of unsettledness that is difficult to understand unless you've experienced it yourself. I think I may always feel like this until I'm back overseas where God has called me working as a nurse with the underprivileged & impoverished. But all the same, for now I am a senior nursing student at University of Mary-Hardin Baylor trapped in the confinements of school at least until May. After that...well, only God knows.

A few days ago I found myself wishing so badly that there was someone who understood, someone who knew all the stories, all the sights, all the feelings, all the chaos that stirs inside me. I can spend hours & hours sharing with someone, and it is still just a drop in the bucket. But then a little light bulb came on inside me, something I had always known but this time it seemed to give me great comfort - God knows. He is the only one who was there with me then and is still just as near to me now. He carried me through the hardest of times there just as He will here. And that is enough for me.

I've spent time this week reflecting and praying about what to share in front of people when I talk about Africa, but like I said when you're at a loss for words it just feels like you're going in circles. Someone told me to tell stories that reflect God's work in Africa. There are too many to tell. But I have discovered that more words aren't necessarily better. So I just pray that no matter what I say, God's power & heart will be seen through the stories.

Honest thoughts.

When I wake up in the morning it is so quiet. Part of me prays that I can open the door to my 12 little kids waiting to run to me and give me good morning hugs.

Mixed emotions bubble up inside me when I get a children's song stuck in my head in Luganda. They always sang the same songs for devotion time, but I never stopped enjoying them.

Play dough, coloring, and legos are very therapeutic.

I miss the little mouths open wide expectantly waiting for a bite of my yogurt at breakfast time.

The kids got excited over the littlest things: a slice of pizza for dinner, sitting on their pillows for movie night, cinnamon sugar popcorn, washing their toys, pressing the Reverse button on the sewing machine.

Driving home several days ago I saw rays of sunshine streaming through the clouds, and the first thing I heard in the back of my mind was "Jesus is coming! Look, it's Jesus. He's coming back!!" That's what the kids say when they see sunlight beaming down. I couldn't help but cry.

Baking is so much more fun with a dozen little Ugandan assistants.

Good night kisses were one of the times I looked forward to and cherished every night. Hearing the words “I love you, Aunt Kelsey” as each of them puckered up to return my good night kiss would always put a smile on my face, EVEN if I had smacked my head on the bunk bed frame.

When the older kids came home from school, the first thing they asked me after giving me a hug was “Homework after nap, Aunt Kelsey?” I’ve never seen kids ask me to make them homework.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed by all the white skin around me.

Air conditioning gets too cold for me really quickly. But I can hardly stand this Texas heat.

Who knew I would ever crave rice, beans, and matoke? And I want some passion fruit so badly!

Movies just aren’t the same without Carol, Don, or Jerom cuddled up in my lap. And I can't watch Princess & the Frog without thinking of them all dressed in their pajamas with their precious faces glued to the television.

After I shower, there is no one to rub my shaved legs, smell the lotion on my hands, and play with my wet hair.

I hate always looking at my watch, feeling rushed, and being busy all day long. In Uganda there were many days when I would enjoy just sitting in front of the house having imaginary tea & chapatis and rolling a football around for hours.

I still can't manage to remember to put on my seat beat and always drive on the right side of the road.

The stars were so bright in Malikini. It was breath-taking.

It just doesn't seem fair to my human reasoning that a 15-yr-old girl should die so young of heart & kidney failure.

Sometimes I find myself thinking about the patients I met - if they have found peace & healing, if they are alone & afraid, if they're still alive.

I confess that multiple times a day I count forward 8 hours and try to imagine what my kids are doing at this moment. I wonder if they think of me, if they miss me like I miss them.

Despite all these thoughts, missing everything about Africa, and often feeling like an emotional basketcase, I am filled with joy & thankfulness when I look back on all the miraculous things I saw God do. That gives me hope.

On the brighter side, little things I'm thankful for:

Fabric softener, shower curtains, pest control, a coffee maker, milk that doesn't come in a bag, reliable power, toilets that flush every time, outlets that don't require converters & a surge protector, a ceiling fan in my bedroom. Family - the ones I share blood with and the ones I share Christ with. Hugs from sweet friends when there are no words that can be said. A Bible that I can always open and find a warm feeling of comfort & familiarity no matter what country I'm in.

Faces of Jesus

While I was in Africa I saw reflections of Jesus in the faces of the beautiful people around me. Their miraculous stories, sweet spirits, and acts of love reflect God in all His glory & majesty. And I miss those faces.

Faces of Blessings

Face of Thankfulness

Face of Hope

Face of Kindness

Face of Joy

Face of Faithfulness

Face of Poverty

Face of Beauty

Face of Laughter

Face of Injustice

Face of Friendship

Face of Gentleness

Faces of Love

Faces of God's Provision

Home is where the heart is. And I left my heart in Africa.

It's been 9 days since I left Africa.

The reason my entries have become few & far between is simply a lack of words. No writing can do justice to the power of God I have seen at work. And that has been the same case since I have been back in the States. People ask about my summer, about Africa, but I don't know what to say. Half of me is a beaming smile when I think of the past 3 months, and the other half of me is a river of tears. I know. Sounds bipolar. But some of you may understand where I am coming from.

I haven't felt like myself for the past 9 days. It's like I'm a zombie going through the motions that I know so well, but my heart & mind are still an ocean away. I thought I was coming home, but now that I'm back it feels like I left my home in Africa. I keep wondering how long this will last. When will things begin to feel normal again?

For several days since I've been back to school, I have tried not to think about how lonely I feel. I've tried not to think too much about my precious kids, my friends, and all the sweet patients I met. It worked for a little while. But today is different for some reason. The memories are so vivid I can't ignore them. They make my heart hurt. A lot.

It tore me up to hear that all my kids got sick soon after I left Uganda. They are my babies, and I left them. I wasn't there when they needed me.

And then I think of the patients I met.

Baby Simon was just a few months old and so so sick - dying of AIDS. I felt so useless that day at the clinic. I had malaria but couldn't lay in bed for another minute or I'd go crazy. So I sat in the pharmacy. A young woman came in with her baby who needed medication. I held my arms out and asked if I could hold him. His eyes were glassy & could hardly focus, his tiny body was burning up, and his lymph nodes were so swollen I thought he had masses growing on his neck. Dr Ricky came in, and I asked what was wrong with the baby. "He has AIDS and is very sick. He probably won't make it much longer." Then he told me to give the baby 5mL Bactrim suspension. Simon's tonsils & lymph nodes were so swollen that he couldn't swallow or even cry. So I spent at least 15 minutes squirting small amounts of Bactrim in his mouth with a syringe and blowing on his face trying in vain to get the poor baby to swallow his medication. All the while I kept praying, "Lord, please help this baby boy. He needs a miracle." Today I keep wondering whether Simon is still alive.

That is just one of so many stories of people whose lives intersected with mine, maybe just for a short while, but all the same they have changed me. Now I am supposed to figure out how my time in Africa fits together with my life here in Texas. And I feel so lost.

My only comfort is that even when everything else seems foreign, God will always be familiar and near to me.

Stories of poverty

Every day God is opening my eyes more & more to the heartbreaking realities of extreme poverty in Uganda. It breaks my heart. There have been so many times in the past two weeks that I've wanted to cry out of sheer heartache for these people.

I know so many statistics on health disparities in Africa. I've seen pictures and heard stories. But to see these people right in front of me - it's so different.

They aren't just statistics on infant & maternal mortality rates anymore. I see faces, a woman standing next to me telling me about the dead baby she delivered at home a couple weeks ago with tears rolling down her cheeks. She had a severe, infected laceration that she had yet to see a doctor about because she has no money.

They aren't just numbers of children who die of preventable & treatable diseases each year. They each have a name - Corcus. He has spinal TB, a father dying of AIDS, and a mother who will openly admit she doesn't love him. This disease could very well kill him because there is no one to care for him properly and take him to the hospital for regular treatment. Instead his mother uses him to get food handouts while she leaves him to slowly die of TB.

They aren't just numbers of child soldiers. They are each precious children of God who have been stripped of family, home, and childhood to the scars of unspeakable evils.

I could tell you story after story and show you pictures of the horrible injustices that plague my thoughts every night.

Life in the slums. But no picture can do justice to the poverty.

Little Corcus. For me it was love at first sight.

I don't understand how anyone could not love this precious face.

I don't even know what to feel about all this. Burdened, angry, hopeless, angry, heartbroken, numb. At first I tried to distance myself from it because I knew it could get overwhelming if I let every story, every patient get to me. But how can I distance myself from these beautiful people who are in such dire need? And when they are right in front of me one after another after another?

It has been a blessing to be a part of the medical clinics reaching out to offer medical care to refugees, child soldiers, orphans, outcasts, and the impoverished, but it has left me with a heavy heart and a river of tears shed for these beautiful people.

My only solace in all this is the hope I have found in the Lord.

"O Sovereign Lord! You made the heavens and earth by your strong hand and powerful arm. Nothing is too hard for you!" Jeremiah 32:17

God is greater.