Another Year

The end of a year often brings reflective thoughts. For most, a lot has happened in the last 365 days. I’m sure there have been a wide range of heartaches and joys for all of us, on various levels. Chances are there are things you want to remember for the rest of your life and other things you want to forget. 

Some of the biggest highlights of my year were the frequent traveling to surrounding countries, the amount of people I met and relationships formed, and the overwhelming presence of Jesus in my life.

In one years’ time I will have swam in three of the four oceans of the world (Indian, Atlantic, Pacific). (I don’t plan on ever getting close to the Arctic Ocean, in case you were wondering).  I started my year in Cape Town, South Africa and will be ending my year in Honolulu, Hawaii. Obviously, I set foot in quite a few other continents, countries, and states along the way.

Although it can be fun to reminisce, and even important to recall times of the past, I’ve discovered the importance of living in the present and keeping my eyes on what is ahead. The phrase from the apostle Paul, “…forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead…” has been impressed on my heart.

Basically, we are only promised this very moment. In fact, I don’t even know that I will be finishing this post. (More than likely, I will be). My thoughts should be concerned with living every moment for the glory of God, ready for Jesus’ return, and sharing the excitement with those around me. I need to be more excited about the present, more excited about the gospel, and more excited about spending eternity in heaven. I need to be intentional. Is what I am doing, at this moment, beneficial for me, for those around me, for the Kingdom?

The past is just that – it has passed. A lot of it (the past) defines who I am, but none of it defines me more than God defines me. So, as I remember the highlights of 2015, I’m choosing to focus on my identity in Christ and I’m looking forward to another year with Him. 

Home

This afternoon I pulled a scarf off the hanger and the air around me suddenly filled with the smell of Kigali. I buried my face in the scarf and breathed deeply. At that very moment I was missing Rwanda in such a fierce way. I miss Rwanda daily, but I don’t always long for it. But today, today I long for it. And I am holding the scarf close, cherishing the memories and the earthy, raw smell.

In spite of this, I know I’m not called to be there right now. I’m called to be here in Minnesota. And I’m still trying to come to terms with that, but even amidst the longings there is peace, because my home is not defined by a single, physical place. My home is in God’s presence and His presence is everywhere.

I’ve made it to Thanksgiving break. I’ve completed three months of college. Time feels like it’s passing so quickly, but at the same time it feels like I’ve been here for so long…how has it only been three months? 

God has blessed me with the opportunity to fly down to North Carolina for Thanksgiving and so here I am, bundled up in cold Minnesota, pulling my summer clothes out of Rubbermaid bins because it is going to be a whopping 60 degrees (Fahrenheit). Maybe I’ll even bring my chacos!

I’m fighting discouragement that most of my luggage weight is consisting of books and school work, so Thanksgiving break will not be much of a break. But I’m going to see my family (some of them, at least) and that thought puts a smile on my face.

The past three months have been wonderful and terrifying and heart-wrenching and beautiful and everything in between. I’m thankful for a chance to step away from campus for a week, but I’m realizing just now that I will miss my friends, and my classes, and my bed, and my life here.

God is so good. He is the source of everything I need and desire. I will be leaving my home in Minnesota to go to my home in North Carolina. And I’m about to get on an airplane and my excitement is bubbling over at that thought. And I’m thankful that I serve and love a God who goes with me wherever I go. 

Softening

Today is, as Mary Poppins would say, practically perfect in every way.

This weather is splendid. Words cannot adequately describe what it is doing to my soul.

God gives us exactly what we need when we need it. He knew I needed this brief break from the winter weather (and maybe it’s not just me that needed the pause). The weather is Rwanda-like, with a bright blue sky, warm sun, and a mild-shirt-sleeve temperature. Unlike Rwanda, the autumn colors are brilliant but quickly falling. The smell of ripe leaves is thick in the air. The lush green grass on which I am sitting (also unlike Rwanda, because I wouldn’t be allowed to sit in the grass) is hinting at turning to an ugly brown color. The Winter Solstice sun is already dipping behind the building, even though it is the middle of the afternoon.

I had to dig deep, shuffling through the corners of my heart and blow dust off forgotten shelves, but a few days ago I found myself searching for God’s gifts. God’s everyday graces. And responding in a heart of thankfulness. And so on that day of deep digging I counted…

Five geese waddling in a single line

Unexpected encounters with a friend

Rosy cheeks

And just like that, my heart began to soften. Like candle wax, the protective layer around my heart began to melt.

And God has been showing me His gifts daily. Although, knowing God, they were there all along, I was just walking with my head down.

And I am realizing how selfish I am. And how selfless He is. And that I was called, by Him, to do great and wonderful things for the Kingdom.

And I am walking with my head down.

But there He is. Always, ever present. There to lift my head in my time of trouble. And lead me on the path of truth. To soften my heart and remind me that He has given me so much to live for, to sing for, to jump and shout and proclaim and exclaim and it goes on… I know where I’m going. I know who I am in Christ. And that is enough.

I have set the Lord always before me;

Because He is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;

My flesh also dwells secure.

Psalm 16:8-9

Grasping {Another Possibility}

As much as I desperately want to throw up my hands in surrender, there is a small, match-size flicker somewhere deep inside of me. Taking punches on all sides and somehow I look straight ahead, away from the attacks, gritting my teeth, slowly pulling myself onto my knees, and from there I muster the strength to rise to my feet. And there I stand. Unarmed, weak, weary, doubtful. But I stand. And that in itself alludes to hope.

When my heart is weary, when my soul is weak

When it seems I can’t traverse the trail before me

I survey the glory of your agony

And I find the will to fight for what’s before me

'Cause you ran the race enduring for your glory

"Fix My Eyes" - Kings Kaleidoscope

I have a reason to sit down, to give up, to stop fighting.

However, I also have a reason to stand, to continue the fight.

Plain and simple, Jesus already won this battle. When He died on the cross He demolished my fears and my struggles and took care of everything past, present, and future.

He has already won this seemingly uphill and relentless battle.

So who am I to give up?

I’m not too sure what it looks like to continue fighting a battle that has already been won. But I know that I cannot sit down and allow the enemy to win.

I still have an immense amount of healing that needs to take place. My heart is still hardened and angry and confused. But there is a small flame of hope and an ambitious spirit begging to be uncovered. And there is Jesus and when He is present, fear has no power, no hold.

If things remain in darkness Satan has power over them, but when things are brought to the light Satan loses his grip and God is able to redeem.

And so, as I am reaching out into thin air, attempting to understand, grasping onto something – anything – I am bombarded with a thought: what if it doesn’t end in a white flag of surrender? What if, instead, there is an alternate ending? What if there is, dare I say, victory?

Well, because I like to try new things and I’m always up for an adventure, and I didn’t much like the idea of my previous ending, I’m going out on this limb after God and I’m exploring this possibility of victory. We’ll see where it leads…

Grasping

As I stand under the hot water, almost scalding, watching my skin turn bright red, I don’t think, I don’t feel, I just stand there. I don’t want to think or feel because it hurts too much.

Once again, I’m staring at the title of my blog and if I could laugh I would. There’s a small smirk somewhere inside of me, reacting to the irony of the blog title.

Once again, I’m in a place where I need to extend grace and suddenly Grace doesn’t have any grace to give.

But the root of that withheld-grace is a hardened heart, maybe because I’ve been hurt one too many times.

At least I thought it had been one too many times a few times ago but it keeps happening, over and over again, and I can’t get away from it. And because I can’t get away from it, a wall is built and a fear develops and threatens to creep in through the cracks of the poorly built wall, and because the wall is poorly built the fear does come in and it threatens to consume. And now my last hope to ever get away from this fear and break the cycle was demolished and so now what?

Ann Voskamp says that if we count some things as a gift from God then we must count all things as a gift from God.

How? How is this a gift?

It feels like a curse, like a heavy burden fastened to my back, like a scarlet letter embroidered on my front, revealing what must be rooted deep inside me, an identity I didn't ask for or want.

The other day in class someone wisely said, “Fear and belief cannot exist together.”

The words stung. How can I say I believe in God and receive all He has for me and thank Him for the life He has given me and count it all as joy and count it all as grace, as a gift, yet my heart is brimming with fear?

Paul says, “For freedom Christ set us free, stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” The author of Hebrews says that we are to “throw off everything that hinders (fear) and run with perseverance, the face marked out for us."

Is this really the race marked out for me?

I try. I try to run with perseverance and break away from the yoke of slavery (fear) and I do, but then another instance occurs and the fear is aroused and I’m back to square one. And now the instances are getting closer and closer together and it happens so often that I don’t know any other way. And now my whole outlook on life is skewed and contorted.

And if fear and belief cannot exist together, I guess that means I’m in a state of disbelief.

It’s painful to admit. I’m raising my white flag of surrender and accepting this as my identity. I don’t want to be controlled by this fear but I also don’t want to fight it anymore.

[Note: As you can plainly read, this is one of my heavier posts, not ending on that usual hopeful note. Maybe you can view it as a modern day psalm. All of my posts are an act of worship. For the most part my words are God-inspired and for the purpose of encouraging those around me. In his psalms, David poured out his heart to God and so certain verses are dark and raw but he usually turns it around by the last verse or two and reminds himself of who God is and praises Him for His goodness. However, there are a few psalms of David that do not end positively. So, read this as my psalm of lament, my vulnerable plea. And don’t get too concerned, brighter posts are ahead.]

Mountaintop Experiences

Recently on Facebook, my mom posted a picture of me on top of Table Mountain in South Africa. It was so good to see that picture and allow memories to wash over me. I loved hiking Table Mountain, but even more than the hike, I loved the view at the top.

Upon reaching the top of the mountain, my fellow hikers and I took pictures in attempt to capture the beauty of it all. But, inevitably, we had to begin our decent downward sooner or later. We could only sit up there and drink in the splendor for so long. We couldn’t stay there forever.

In My Utmost for His Highest Oswald Chambers talks about not forgetting what God revealed to you in the mountaintop experiences, especially while you are down in the valley. Chambers warns us that valley-times of our relationship with God will come. We can’t stay on the mountaintop forever. But the question is: how do we handle the valley experiences? Do we forget what He showed us? Or do we cling to it?

While I was in Rwanda God made things pretty clear to me. And then I got to college and contemplated jumping the ship. I picture an American football team who meets in the locker room before a big game. They’re in a huddle, getting pumped, the coach is building them up and reviewing the game plan. Ready? Break! The team goes out to the field, sees their competition and starts to sweat. The opposing team is bigger than they thought. The whistle blows and suddenly the team, who was so ready just moments before, starts running every which way, in utter chaos, abandoning the plan, going into survival mode. And why? If they would just stick with the plan the coach had laid before them, they would have made the play and potentially won the game.

Unfortunately I reacted in a very similar way once I got to college. It’s not necessarily that I abandoned the plan, I just panicked and then forgot the plan. I started to question everything. I faced doubt and discouragement on a daily, even hourly, basis. Did I hear God right? Is this the right major? Does He really want me to go to college here…or at all?

Freeze.

Satan cannot exist on the mountaintop. It’s easy to hear God loud and clear because there aren’t any distractions, temptations, or degrading voices. But, Satan lurks in the shadows in the crevices of the mountain and in the dark places of the valley, waiting there to steer you off track.

And I didn’t see it coming.

I began my decent down the mountain, lost my footing, and then somersaulted, rather ungracefully, to the bottom.

I forgot. I forgot what God revealed to me on my mountaintop experience. I forgot the game plan.

Before leaving Rwanda, I knew, with confidence, that God laid this major and this college before me. This is where He wants me; this is what He is calling me to do.

I’m back on two feet again (hence the blog post). That’s the beauty of Jesus. He comes down and wades around in the muddy water with you until you can see the path again.

I have to keep hiking. I have to keep climbing. I have to remember what He once showed me. It’s a fierce battle, fighting off doubt and discouragement, but I have Him on my side, fighting hard with me, for me.

Really, college is great. I like the school, I like my friends, I like my roommates, and I like my classes. I have nothing to complain about. I will march on, one day at a time, trusting in Him and His great plan. 

Traveling on African Roads in America

College is probably one of the scariest things I’ve ever done. It’s scarier than riding on the back of my dad’s motorcycle through Kicukiro….yes, it’s that scary.

If I didn’t have Jesus I’d be an absolute basket case right now. He is the only reason why both my feet hit the ground in the morning, the reason why I walk through each day with a somehow-smile on my face, and the reason why I make it into my bed each night.

Culture shock is creeping up on me and attempting to drown me but the Spirit keeps whispering, Fix your eyes on Jesus. Fix your eyes on Jesus. Stress, fear, longings, and anxiety creep in but the Spirit keeps whispering, Fix your eyes on Jesus.

I’ve been struggling with worship ever since leaving Rwanda. My heart isn’t in it. Everyone around me has their arms lifted and they are singing loudly and I’m reading the words but my heart can’t sing. I don’t get this American style of worship anymore.

It feels like there is an expectation or demand for this fancy spiritual life. Who can sing louder, who can close their eyes tighter, who can pray longer, etc. It feels like our relationship with God is measured by others.

After reflecting on this for a while, I think it’s important to not stray too far from the gospel. We (I) know the gospel forward and backward, but then we (I) tend to move on from it and focus on other aspects of Him, which is good, but it’s crowding out the gospel. The God of all creation loves me so much that He sent His only Son to rescue me so that I could live forever with Him. Period.

Ah, it’s like a breath of fresh air. Yes, the gospel. Sweet, simple, beautiful.

I know that we’re all at different places in our walk with the Lord and so I’m not about to judge anyone for the way he or she is worshiping or the place where they currently are with God. I think though that for me, He is wanting me to just live in the truth of the gospel.

Another thing that I’ve been struggling with is time. The word makes me cringe. I show up to class “on time” and the room is already full and I have to excuse myself as I climb over people and make my way to the back of the room. This morning church started six minutes early. I’m American, for goodness sake, I was that one in Rwanda that was showing up to things 30 minutes late, on purpose, so that I could be on time and I was still early. And I guess it rubbed off on me because now I can’t seem to be on time for anything.

There are still beautiful gifts from God all around me. Subtle reminders of His love for me and His presence in my life. Today the weather is beautiful. I haven’t experienced whether this wonderful since leaving Rwanda. And I think that God gave me this weather because He loves me and He knows I need it.

I’m going to make it. I’m going to run through this race (of college) with my eyes fixed on Jesus. The road will be rough. It will be dark. (Can we all imagine an unlit, African dirt road and smile because (1) I love those roads so much and (2) that is exactly the kinds of road He has me traveling on right now. Ah, the irony. He brought me to the land of smooth, paved roads so that we could walk on dirt ones.) I can’t promise positive, funny, and encouraging blog posts every day. All I can do is cling to His promises and keep my eyes fixed on Him. 

Another New Home

I’ve spent the last week in Minnesota at the University of Northwestern and it has been awesome – I mean that in the holiest way possible. I had never seen Northwestern prior to moving in on Wednesday so I really didn’t know what I was getting into. I knew that God was calling me to this school for reasons that He has not yet revealed to me, so here I am, richly and abundantly blessed.

From the moment I sent in my deposit to Northwestern back in March I have had a peace that surpasses all my understanding and confidence to start a new life here, in a new country, a new state, a new culture. This is what God is asking of me for the next three to four years, so here I am.

And now I want to shout from the mountaintops. Our God is so good! Now that I’m here on campus I’ve been awestruck by how His ways are so much better than my ways. I’m thankful that He led me to this school, that He had this school in mind for me a long time ago.

The direction that my life has gone thus far is not at all what I expected. When you give God control of your life, exciting things happen! Excitement doesn’t necessarily mean that you get to move all over the world and experience a bunch of different cultures; it just means that you live a life of whimsy, a life out of control. You never really know what to expect, so everything is a beautiful surprise.

So, a couple things about my new home:

1-     It’s cold. I know, I know, you guys all tried to tell me. God certainly has a sense of humor sending this African girl to the north.

2-      I have way more friends than I ever thought possible for an introvert. But I like them all…especially my fellow TCKs. Although exhausting, meeting new people has its elements of fun.

3-      I have two really cool roommates. That’s another way that God has really blessed my college experience thus far.

4-      Oh, and I broke my first law of Minnesota today. One of my roommates and a Honduran friend rode our bikes to a local coffee shop and to Wal-mart. Apparently, riding your bike on the main road is illegal, which I didn’t know, as I made a left-hand turn and went out into traffic, while my two friends went straight on the quiet neighborhood road. Thankfully, nothing really happened, so this story just got pretty anti-climactic. I navigated my way back to my friends and it really wasn’t a big deal. But just so you know, if you ever come to Minnesota, be careful where you ride your bike.

Classes start tomorrow and I’m really ready to get started, which I guess is a good thing considering the fact that I don’t have a choice. I know that I’m in an exposed place, susceptible to attack, because I’m exactly where God wants me and mountaintop experiences can’t last forever. Praise God with me for His faithfulness and great plan for my life and pray with me for His protection and continued guidance.

Also, a few of you have asked for my address so here it is:

Grace Gaskill, MC# 1740

University of Northwestern

3003 Snelling Avenue N.

St. Paul, Minnesota 55113

On the Road Again

One of my roommates just sent me a text that said, “Warning: It is cold today.” When I asked her what that meant she said, “A high of 64 and rainy.”

Yes ma’am, that is cold. Thanks for giving me time to get prepared!

It’s going to be a long winter. Starting August 18^th and ending…whenever I move down south again.

Currently, we’re stuck in a long line of traffic on a two-lane road in the wide-open fields of Indiana. 

Inching along at 4mph. Did we take a wrong turn somewhere? Well, apparently, “they” closed down the whole of I-65 and detoured us through the corn.

In all our traveling, we’ve passed by many signs announcing the location of various universities and colleges. With each state we’ve driven through, with each sign I’ve read, and with every warning of the cold winter that is about to be upon me, there is not a doubt in my mind that I’ve chosen the right school. God has led me to the University of Northwestern and I can’t wait to get there.

I used to be so afraid of making decisions. Little decisions like what to eat and what to wear, and big decisions like where to go to college. But, I’ve learned that the only decision I need to make is whether or not I’m going follow Jesus. Yes or no. Once you make that decision, all the other decisions fall in to place.

Going to college is a big deal. It has elements of being really scary. But I chose to follow Jesus and so everything is going to be okay.

There are exciting things on the horizon that God has placed before me and is allowing me to experience. I can feel the prayers and support of so many of my friends and family members. I’m grateful for all the encouraging words and the amount of people who have welcomed me into their homes and lives.  I’ve had a good two weeks in America, getting ready for college, and now it’s time…well, we still have some more hours of driving on the road before it’s time. But we’re close! 

Road Trip

Origination: St. Petersburg, Florida

Destination: St. Paul, Minnesota

The road trip started around 4:30(EST) this morning, embarking from one set of grandparent’s house and ending our day in High Point, North Carolina with another set of grandparents. 4 states and 12 hours of driving.

Observation: Driving is much less eventful in America than it is in Rwanda, what with the straight and smooth roads and carefully obeyed traffic laws.

Technically this trip started out 6 days ago in Kigali, Rwanda. It was just an air trip at that point in time, not a road trip. 3 countries, 3 airplanes, and 27 hours of travel time.

I didn’t think that the move from Kigali to St. Paul would be that big of a deal but now that I’m in the middle of it, it does kind of seem like a long way.

The last 5 days have mainly been filled with observation and trying to remember how this culture works. Fast walking, loud talking, bright lights, air conditioning, certain phrases said in conversations that don’t mean what I think it means…things like that. It definitely doesn’t classify as culture shock, more like culture adjustment.  

I have a lot of adjustments ahead of me as I not only move from one country to another country, but also from a southern state in America to a state so far north it may as well be in the Arctic Circle. And then there’s the adjustment of living on a college campus and going back to school. But it’s all okay because this is what God has asked me to do in this season of my life and no adjustment or transition is bigger than He is.

There’s this passage that I keep going back to in my transition and desire for home: Hebrews 11:13b-16

 …having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, this is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared for them a city.

In all of my moving around, there is no place here on earth that will satisfy my need for a home. I’m desiring something much bigger. And so I’ll hold on to all these things loosely, while still embracing them fully, and making the most of what God has laid before me. 

A Good Note to End On

After graduating high school I spent 13 months in America floundering like a fish out of water, knowing deep in my heart that God had something bigger in store for me. Then, I moved back to Rwanda and have spent the last 13 months thriving like a fish in water.

It’s been 26 months since I graduated high school? Yikes.

And now my 26 gap-months are coming to an end and it’s time to go back to America. But this time I’m ready. I’m so ready. God has prepared my heart and given me peace and confidence. What more do I need?

I’m down to my last full day in Rwanda, but before I go let’s reminisce a bit…

From July 1^st, 2014 to August 4^th, 2015 I experienced rest (first and foremost), new relationships, an internship with a USAID organization, various trips around Rwanda, traveling to South Africa, to Uganda, to the UAE, and to Kenya, working with Young Life, tutoring and instrument lessons, playing my clarinet, directing a music camp, volunteering with various children’s ministries, and lots and lots of babysitting.

It has been a remarkable year. I’m really overcome with love and thankfulness.

My heart is mixed. It’s ready to go and yet longing to remain.

I will miss driving my scooter around town, zipping through traffic. However, I will not miss being run off the road by buses and trucks, being bullied by motos, and that ever-present helmet hair.

I probably won’t miss the electricity and water inconsistencies.

I’ll miss Rwandan buffets and Vitamilk biscuits and Digestives, and Stoney. (Although, I do have enough Stoney packed in my suitcase to get me through my first semester.)

A delicious ginger soft drink

I’ll miss funny and confusing conversations in broken Kinyarwanda/English/French.

I probably won’t miss being stared at all the time.

I’ll miss the eagerness to lend a helping hand every time I get a flat tire or run out of gas. (One or the other happens at least once a month and there are always people around ready to help push my scooter to the nearest station.)

I’ll miss my expat friends/family and the relationships I have here.

I’ll cherish all of these memories.

I marvel at how God has used all these people and places and opportunities of the last 13 months to continue to shape me and grow me and bring me closer to Him and guide me on the path He has called me to. 

To Love Well. To End Well.

Rwanda is hazy, dry and dusty and lacking it’s obvious beauty. The beauty is still there but it’s just not so visible right now, during this dry season. Isn’t that how our own lives are? We go through dry seasons and we look ugly and we lack some of the surface-level, visible beauty. But we’re still the same people. We’re still beautiful; we’re just going through a dry season. Give it another two months or so and Rwanda will be luscious again.

Rwanda also feels strangely quiet to me but maybe that’s because I’ve spent the last three weeks yelling my lungs out at a summer camp. But still, for Rwanda, I’m wondering, Where is everyone? Why is it so quiet? I too am quiet and reflective. Since leaving camp on Saturday afternoon, I’ve probably said about a tenth of the amount of words I used during the last three weeks. My brain is overstimulated.

As most of you know, Adam, Miles, and I went to Kenya to work at/attend Camp BlueSky. There are six sessions of camp, all one week long and we were planning to be there for the third and fourth sessions. But after just one week of camp we were hooked. So hooked that Adam and I changed our flight. Miles stayed for two weeks and then flew back to Rwanda. I stayed for one more week and got back to Rwanda on Saturday night and Adam is still at camp, but he’ll be returning this Saturday.

There is something really special about BlueSky. On July 3^rd, as we were driving down the long approach road to camp we encountered giraffes, zebra, and wildebeests. Adam got out of the car and tried to chase down a giraffe, until he got his hair caught in an acacia tree. That is a hilarious and beautiful picture I will always have in my head. 

This picture was taken from a rock a few kilometers from camp.
The white tent in the distance is where we ate all our meals.

The BlueSky staff readily welcomed us into their community even though we were jumping in mid-summer and they had already spent so much time together. I was humbled, encouraged, and blessed by all the staff, countless times, throughout my three weeks with them…and I’m shocked that it was only three weeks because I feel as if I’ve known them for much longer and my heart is confused by the quick attachment and severing.

My first week of camp I was a counselor for the oldest age group. I had seven 15-18-year old girls in my cabin and I loved them before I even knew them. As I was sitting on the porch waiting for the girls to arrive, God poured His love into me so intensely, so intentionally, for these girls. And I spent all week just longing to be with them…similar to how God just longs to be with us, all the time. We went camping and hiking and white-water rafting and rock climbing and teetering across a high-ropes course. One of the girls in my cabin accepted Christ into her life! By the end of the week I was filled with such a fierce level of joy and was on a high that I didn’t ever want to end.

But, alas, the week did come to an end and for my second week of camp I was placed in a cabin of six 13-year old girls. I came down from my emotional high of the previous week at such a rapid pace that I could feel my head pounding and the blood rushing in my ears. My love that I had for my previous cabin had been all used up on those girls and I hadn’t bothered to ask God to refill me. I started the week, dry, depleted, dusty, ugly…similar to the current state of Rwanda. Members of the BlueSky staffed rallied with me and prayed off the attacks of the devil. I fought hard and God pulled me through to a place where I was able to be with the girls in my new cabin and hear them and love them. Even though it wasn’t anywhere near the level of fun and love and joy from the first week, I can still say that it was a good week because it was redemptive and Jesus was present.

And then came time for week three and I had a cabin full of 14-year old girls, ten to be exact. During my first two weeks I had a co-counselor so I was able to share the responsibilities of getting people to bed and dressed in the morning and to and fro various activities, etc. But for my last week I was alone, with ten girls, the largest cabin I had yet. It was a good week, it really was. The girls opened up and confessed things to me and we were able to pray together and work towards feeling free from what was binding them.

There are so many traditions within Camp BlueSky and activities that I was thrilled to be a part of. Looking at my three weeks as a whole, it was fun and loud and beautiful and confirming. I’m grateful for those of you who supported Adam, Miles, and me and our trip to Camp BlueSky. It was eye-opening and life-changing for all three of us. I love my brothers so much and I’m really glad I had one last opportunity to take a trip with them and experience this together.

Personally, I learned things about my own life and received another round of healing from my past. I became a much more consistent prayer. “Be joyful always, pray continuously, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (The verse that God gave me in Grade 11 when I asked Him what His will for my life was….and four years later, we’re still working on it.) I prayed steadily for three weeks for my girls, for my fellow counselors, for camp as a whole. And I saw prayers being answered, which only made me want to pray more! I also gained a lot of confidence for my future. I’m about to embark on a journey that has aspects of being daunting. So far my track record with university doesn’t look too hot but God used my time at camp to show me that I can confidently board my plane next Tuesday and dive in, head first, into this new adventure that He is calling me to. He will provide friendships for me and love and grace and joy and peace and everything that He has already so powerfully worked within me; He will continue to give it to me and I will be okay.

And now I have one week to wrap up my time in Rwanda. To seek closure. To end well. My heart aches but it’s also warm and beating with hope and love and peace.  

I Forgot my Pants

I love mornings in Kigali. The equator-sun slowly warming up the cool air from the previous night, the singing birds, the people waking and beginning their treks to work, the traffic picking up…and then before I know it, Kigali is buzzing. But, let’s be honest…I love all times of day in Kigali. The buzzing mid-mornings, the afternoons, the evenings….it’s all so great.

I forgot that we’re in the month of July now and so I went to Kimironko market today. That was a mistake. Without a doubt there were more foreigners than locals at the market because it’s July and all the tour groups are overrunning the city. They were loud and clueless and I got in and out as fast as possible. Except, I left a pair of my jeans in someone’s stall and I forgot to get maracuja passion fruit so I had to make another trip back to the market within that same hour. Oh well, at least the weather was nice….remember, I love Kigali at all times of the day.

Ever since February I’ve been dreaming and planning Injyana Camp. Injyana Camp is Rwanda’s first ever summer music camp and it’s a branch off of Injyana Ensembles and our family’s ministry in this country. 55 kids attended our camp. All 55 kids experienced the love of Christ throughout one of the two weeks of camp. One kid accepted Christ into his life and one kid came to us with a lot of questions at the end of the week.

I spent a lot of hours preparing for camp and it ended up being two of the best weeks of my life. I wish YOU had been there. I wish every single one of you had the opportunity to witness and experience this music camp. The campers had a blast, the staff had a blast…I had a blast. The music, the learning, the fun and games. But the thing is, camp was above and beyond how I imagined it to be. God did things during the camp to make it so great. If it was only the work I had done it would not have been nearly as great as it really was. I did a little bit, but God did a lot. He did far more than I ever asked or imagined.

Adam, Miles, and I are flying up to Kenya in the morning. We’ll be attending and serving at a summer camp that is similar to Young Life, which is a ministry that the three of us have been involved with all year. We were encouraged to raise support for our two weeks in Kenya, and as of this past Sunday, we’re fully funded!

Here’s a cool story: The amount I advertised was actually about $15 less than the total amount that we needed, and I figured that we could just cover the difference. But God had other things in mind. Even though the webpage showed that we only needed $35 to reach our goal, our very last supporter gave us $50. What is $50 minus $35?…$15. It is so cool how God works everything out for us, but ultimately, for His glory. And even when we try to do it on our own, God just says, “No, no...give it to Me, I’ll handle it.” And He does.

I feel like I have a lot more to say on all of these aforementioned topics, but that’ll just have to come in my next post after I return from Kenya. I’ve officially entered my last month of my gap-year and I’m at peace. Soon, very soon, I’ll be boarding yet another plane, but this time it will be to America and I’ll be saying good-bye to my beloved East Africa. I’m taking every day for what it’s worth and cherishing the moments and I’m heading out to spend the next two weeks at an adventure camp!

Tough Love

On Monday our umudugudu neighborhood thought it would be a good idea to bring in some fresh dirt to smooth out the road. And when I say fresh dirt I mean beautiful dark, thick soil. On Monday afternoon it rained. And when I say rain I mean poured. And our already bad, neck-wrenching dirt road turned into a pig’s heaven.

On Monday night Adam and I got home after dark. As I cautiously navigated my way down the road I eventually reached a point where my scooter would not go any further. Adam and I then found ourselves ankle-deep in mud pushing my scooter up the hill to our house.

I was mad. I was mad that my feet and my shoes and my pants were dirty. I was mad that the umudugudu brought fresh dirt in when it’s the middle of the rainy season and it’s more likely going to rain than not. And, if you read one of my posts from a few months ago you know that the real problem lies in the drainage (or lack of) system.

The rain continued on Tuesday and I spent most of that day slip-sliding around on the dirt roads. By Tuesday night I was fed up.

But dirt roads are something that I’m thankful for – I see beauty in them.

Why am I mad and frustrated and fed up with the very thing that I love?

I’ve been wrestling with the concept of love for my whole life. Recently, in the last few months, I feel like I’ve gotten a pretty good understanding of it. But now I’m being challenged. I say I understand love, but do I really? It goes so far beyond blissful days. If you can love in spite of the ugly, then you’re really loving.

That’s what Jesus did/does. He loves in spite of our ugly.

Dirt roads are such a simple thing. In light of who Jesus is and what He has done. And here I am hung up on something that doesn’t even have feelings.

I think the bottom line is that up until a few days ago I viewed dirt roads as a gift from God. And now the roads have changed and they got me dirty. And now I’m ready to give up on dirt roads and fund the paving of roads – particularly our road.

Could I be any more selfish?

God gave me dirt roads and I’m giving them back to Him saying I don’t want them because they’re not so fun anymore.

Imagine: We all have close friends. People change, it’s a part of life. People hurt us and get us dirty, it’s a part of life. Do we give up on our friends and go out looking for newer, better ones?

I’m still not at a place where I can see the beauty in the dirt roads on this particular day or week. I’m still pretty frustrated with them. But I think that’s okay. Because now I know that it’s a heart issue. It’s a part of me growing and having a bigger understanding, and ultimately, a bigger, richer, fuller love. 

Eyes Wide Open

Searching.

Rustling pages of Bible.

Frantically scribbling down new revelations.

Searching.

Arms open.

Eyes open.

Heart open.

Searching.

Expectantly waiting.

This is me – I’m feeling full and satisfied yet I’m hungry and can’t seem to get enough.

I recently reread Ann Voskamp’s book, 1000 Gifts. She talks about finding God’s gifts in everyday life, and she actually goes even beyond that in saying that everything, good and bad, is all a gift. It’s all grace.

She’s given me a lot to think about, and has also inspired me to go searching for His gifts again. I started keeping a “gift journal” in July 2013, when I first read her book, but then life got hard and I became restless and I stopped counting gifts. God still continued to give the gifts even when I wasn’t really looking for them. I noticed a few, jotted them down, but didn’t maintain consistency.

Last month I started counting again. It’s been like a breath of fresh air to live every day so expectantly. Waiting to see what gifts God is going to give me today.

Last week, Adam and I went to Dubai and Sharjah, two emirates of the United Arab Emirates. We had fun exploring and diving into a new culture together, but if I’m going to be completely honest, it was a hard week for me. It is a country consumed by Islam and worldly things. It is a country that says, “Look at what we (man) has accomplished!” They have record-breaking architectural structures, and man-made…everything. They even have plans for building an air-conditioned beach. They have taken everything natural, everything God-made, and turned it into a self-righteous place.  

I searched and searched for God’s gifts in Dubai and Sharjah. Even the night sky was starless. My heart felt void. Is God not there?

I believe He is there, because I believe God is everywhere. But, goodness gracious, He is so sequestered. It’s heartbreaking.

When I got off the plane in Kigali, Rwanda on Saturday night it was as if God bombarded me with gift after gift. The smells. The sights. The sounds. It reeked of Jesus and His love for me. Everything was singing for Him. I’ve said it before, and I’ll continue to say it – Rwanda is a beautiful place.

I love this life He has given me.

And so I will continue

Searching.

With arms open.

Eyes open.

Heart open.

Drawing closer.

Expectantly waiting.

Quick-fixes

The road leading to our house is a beautiful disaster. It could easily be mistaken for a dried-up creek bed. It’s a rough and bumpy ride.

A couple weeks ago the neighborhood got together and leveled out some piles of dirt, assuming that it would smooth the road a bit. The problem is really not the road. The problem is the drainage system. It rained later that afternoon and all of the morning’s hard work was washed away, along with my dreams of ever being able to drive on a flat road.

The neighborhood could continually come together, week after week, to fix the road, but until they fix the drainage system their efforts are in vain. Yes, leveling out some dirt will be cheaper and take less time than repairing a drainage system, but ultimately, it’s for the best to go to the root of the problem.

Here is another less significant example: A friend gave me a necklace for Christmas and the chain broke only a few weeks later. I’ve gone into town multiple times to try to get it fixed but every time I go, the man who can fix it is not there. Finally, in my frustration, I decided to try to fix it myself. It held up for about a day and then fell apart again. Then, I grabbed the duct tape. This is ridiculous and gaudy, walking around with a necklace duct taped together. I wanted to go into town and get it fixed the first time, and now here I am three months later, and I still have a broken necklace because I’m continually trying “quick-fixes” and not going ahead and getting it fixed (or replaced) all the way.

I find this is even true in my own life. When something gets a little off kilter in my life, I want to quickly clean up the surface so that I can go on with a good appearance. Digging down to the roots just takes too much time and effort. At the time, it feels like it’s better to do a “quick-fix” but I know that in the long run I’ll be glad I dug way down.

This is something I feel like God has been bringing to my attention for the past few weeks and I didn’t fully understand what He was getting at until last night at house church when we started talking about patience.

So, it’s not that God has been trying to teach me that quick-fixes are bad (because sometimes, a lot of the time, it’s good to be able to know how to think quickly and fix situations) I think He has really been trying to get me to look at my heart and see my impatience.

There are actually two different types of patience. There is patience in waiting and patience in affliction. I’m pretty sure I could use work in both areas. Before last night I would consider myself to be a pretty patient person. I never lose my temper, I’m always willing to give people another chance, and I continually come at concepts, ideas, and projects from different angles until I finally get it.  But then we talked about antonyms of patience: disquiet of the spirt, discontentment (which is actually the daughter of pride), prejudice, and self-righteousness.

There are a lot of times during the day when I find myself frustrated that something isn’t happening in my own timing (patience in waiting) or when I have been praying for clear answers and am just not getting them (again, waiting) and even when God is trying to do some cleaning out in my heart and I move Him along (patience in affliction).

Yes, there are definitely areas where I can slow down a bit, practice patience, and not rush right over to the “quick-fixes.”

So, speaking of patiently waiting….a couple months ago I thought I would be leaving Rwanda at the end of May. I had a lot of ideas and possibilities for the summer and was sure that I was supposed to be done in Rwanda by then. Every single one of my summer ideas outside of Rwanda fell through and every single idea that popped up inside of Rwanda is working out. So, I’ll be leaving Kigali, Rwanda on August 4^th with my mother who will be accompanying me in my big transition back to the States for university. We booked out tickets last night, so it’s really official. This only gives me about five more months here with my family, in this great country, in East Africa.

My schedule is pretty full on a day to day basis and we have quite a few “summer” (technically “winter” here in the southern hemisphere) music camps on the horizon. I’m learning the importance of daily down times, and in those times, the importance of getting my replenishment and answers from Him.

Here it is early March and I’m trying to stay cool on a sweltering day, grateful that I still have five months, thankful for the life God has given me, anticipating the future, and patiently waiting. 

Simply Ask

Thursdays have become my Sabbath day. I spend Friday-Wednesday teaching, hanging out with kids, being with friends, babysitting, and essentially, exerting myself. Thursday is the day that I can do whatever I want, by myself.

So far I’ve been spending each Thursday doing something different, trying to find the place where I feel most relaxed, most alone, most open to hear from God.

I took a trip over to Kimironko market this morning. Yes, I find shopping to be relaxing. In the States, Target is my #2 escape (parks are #1). I can walk around and look at things and daydream and not talk to anyone…and, I can buy as much as I want and return it all the next day.

Kimironko is nothing like Target, but I make do with what I have. Yes, I have to talk to people and deal with them following me around but I still find the whole experience to be so much fun. Today the power was out so as I rummaged through the paper necklaces and the second hand clothes, a boy stood next to me holding a flash flight and offering his unwanted, yet humorous, opinions.

Oh, that is very nice. It will make you look fat.

Yeah...thanks.

A friend recently discovered a new café in Kigali, not too far from my house. I took one step into the café this afternoon and it instantly became “my place.” It’s quiet, it has one of my favorite views in Rwanda, looking into town, it has good coffee, and it has a small rooftop area. Unfortunately, it’s raining (Actually, I like the rain, but in this case it’s unfortunate) so the view is really hazy. On sunny days, the rooftop of this café will be perfect. It’s such a quaint little shop and I’m really grateful for it.

If God cares enough about me to give me something like a little café in the middle of a small city in the middle of a tiny county in the middle of Africa, think of all the other things He is capable of doing if we simply ask.

Peace of Grace

Kigali is becoming more congested. Rwanda is already the most densely populated country in Africa, but more cars and more people keep cramming their way into the city. There seem to be quite a lot more foreigners coming to reside here…and by foreigners I mean mzungus (white people).

The Stare Down When you first catch a glimpse of white off in the distance your eyes are immediately drawn to it. You stare very intently waiting to see if you recognize the person or not.

The Excited Wave If you know the mzungu you are encountering and are in a moving vehicle, you experience a surprising amount of joy as you smile and flap your arms back and forth at each other.

The Awkward Smile If you don’t know the mzungu you are encountering but have been unfortunate enough to make eye contact with them, a slight smile must be offered, but then you quickly avert your eyes.

The Blank Face If you don’t know the mzungu and have not yet made eye contact then you stare off into the distance, pretending you have not seen each other.

Most of the time I judgmentally question their (the ones I do not know) being here in Rwanda…thoughts like What is that mzungu doing here? How does he even know about this place [we are in]? Who invited that guy? And I’m sure (s)he is thinking the exact same about me. But I love running into the mzungus I do know…it’s always fun to see a familiar face in this city that is overflowing with people.

The days are passing in a flurry of excitement; the weeks circle around at such a fast speed, leaving two options: get dizzy from watching or get dizzy from riding. I chose the latter.  December was action packed. As indicated in a prior post, many friends returned to Rwanda resulting in reunion upon reunion. (I’m a sucker for alliteration.)

We wrapped up the school term, teaching/tutoring/learning. We had the first ever band concert at Green Hills Academy, which received a great response, leaving us in anticipation for the upcoming semester.

We traveled to Kabuye (middle location on Lake Kivu) for a weekend with good family friends. Swam in the lake, enjoyed the beauty of the country, and shared stories from our past year away from each other.

We (the five immediate members of my family) went on a day trip to Akagera Game Park. It requires waking up in the very early hours of the morning so that you can make your way to the park by the time the animals are waking up and starting their day. We saw quite a lot of zebras and giraffes and we saw evidence of elephants but never actually spotted any with our eyes.

And then December 26^th showed up and it was time for me to board a plane and fly to South Africa.

South Africa was brilliant. I was only in the Western Cape so I guess I can’t really say the whole country was brilliant. It would be like visiting Florida, and maybe a few surrounding states, and claiming to know all about America. Rwanda is a bit different. It’s so small and so consistent; it doesn’t take long to figure it out.

I went to Cape Town with a friend over the Christmas/New Year’s holiday. We experienced so much. We rented a car, a manual not an automatic, so I drove. On the right hand side of the car. On the left side of the road. It took a couple days for my brain to catch on, and even now, being back in Rwanda, I’ve had to seriously think about which side of the road I’m driving on. (But depending on which road I’m on in Rwanda, I could drive on the left or the right and no one would think anything of it.)

We started our adventure in Stellenbosch – a positively gorgeous city. It reminded me a bit of Colorado with its wide open plains and mountains jetting up in the west. We attempted to go shark cage diving, but only a tiny bit of one shark was spotted…we never even made it into the water. Rather, we sat on the boat, in the cold wind and choppy waters for countless hours. It was miserable.

From there we traveled down to Muizenberg. We stayed at a hostel right across the street, and railroad tracks, from the beach. Being on the Indian Ocean, we could taste some of the distinct Indian flavors in our food at the local restaurants. We also drove to Ashton, which is supposed to be 2.5 hours away, in the middle of nowhere, but we missed our exit and instead drove for 4 hours to get to our destination. Our destination was an outdoor music festival in the middle of a wine estate…in the middle of nowhere. The festival was great; we heard a lot of really good music, including Matthew Mole! He’s an awesome artist…if you’re looking for some new music, check him out!

Also, while staying in Muizenberg we drove along the coast, through Simon’s Town, (where we attempted to get close to some penguins, but discovered that it was easier said than done) to Cape Point/Cape of Good Hope. Where the Indian and Atlantic Ocean meet. It is beautiful. It currently holds the number one position of my favorite places, passing Kumbyia (Lake Kivu, Rwanda) and the Tetons (Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming)…yeah, it was that amazing, people.

In case climbing over the rocks and splashing in the oceans wasn’t enough for me to remember the place, I crashed a wedding engagement, and so now I’ll always remember the day.

The two girls I was traveling with (CC and Megan) and I were at the very edge of Cape of Good Hope and I saw an awesome photo opportunity. I gave CC the camera and told her to take a picture of me. And I ran over to the cliff opposite us. There was a man and a woman sitting on the cliff and just as I approached them the man said, “Will you marry me?”

I froze. Should I congratulate them? Should I apologize? Should I walk away?

We made eye contact. My face reddened.

And then I chose the dumbest option and turned and smiled for the camera.

After I ran away and got CC and Megan and we laughed about it, CC took more pictures of them and then we walked over to meet them. I repeatedly apologized and congratulated them and got their email address so that I could send them the pictures. The poor guy…he had been waiting all day, it was sunset, and then this random girl shows up out of nowhere.  

The next day we relocated to Cape Town. Cape Town is the coolest for three reason: it’s a city, on the beach/water, surrounded by mountains. There’s nothing more to say.

Cape Town is very developed and westernized. I would call it America but it has enough Africa in it to not quite make the cut. It’s the perfect place.

While we were in Cape Town, we hiked Table Mountain, we went paragliding off Signal Hill, we went shopping, we toured Robben Island, and we met so many people. Staying in hostels put us in the way of making new friends. We met South Africans and other tourists from all over the world. We were also able to meet up with our South African friends that we met in Rwanda a few months ago. South Africans are really cool people; they have their own lingo and style, they’re polite and witty, and they have such cool accents (even though they don’t know it).

Given the opportunity, yes, I would definitely go back to Cape Town. The city and the people totally won my heart.

So now I’m back in Rwanda. My gap year is already half-way finished. It’s time for me to start making my plans for the next step.

A lot of people ask God for a word/phrase/theme for the upcoming year. I didn’t really have that intention when I set out of my quest to find peace. But now, looking back, I can see that peace was definitely my word for 2014. And God gave it (peace) to me. I’ve learned what peace looks like and how it feels and how it’s received and given. I’ve learned that being at peace means complete contentment with the One who is in control. My emotions don’t have to be happy and positive for me to be at peace. I can be sad and discouraged yet still be living in peace.

2014 was a really significant year for me. I moved from North Carolina to Florida to Rwanda. I tried on so many different ideas, like clothes, trying to find the one that fit me right. I struggled, learned, grew, arrived.

I’ll be in Rwanda through May and then I’ll begin my quest back to America. Wandering around a bit as I slowly make my way to University’s doorstep. I’ve applied and been accepted to three schools. I’ve eliminated one and have been praying and seriously considering the other two. I’m almost ready to make a decision but I need to get my financial aid and scholarship money sorted. So, stay tuned.

Back to Reality

I’ve just spent the last two weeks embracing Cape Town, South Africa, and the surrounding areas. It was eye opening. But not in the same way that Kenya was eye opening for me. It was a very different experience.

I’m finding myself feeling rather caught in between two places. My head is still in Cape Town but my body is here in Rwanda. But it’s not like I’m going back to a boring monotonous life after a whirlwind trip to South Africa. No, far from it, actually. I live in the middle of Africa, for goodness sake. Every day is always an adventure.

I love Rwanda. It’s just that now I love South Africa too.

But it’s not like I didn’t already have my heart torn up and divided all over the world.

I guess that’s what happens when you have lived/visited/invested/embraced/ interacted. When you have actively chosen to get involved then you end up leaving a part of yourself behind. 

God gave me one heart. Only one. How am I supposed to divide it up among all these people and places that have become such an important part of my life?

First, I must give my heart back to God. My heart is His heart. Only He is capable of loving forever, endlessly. So if my heart is His heart, then I have His love in me and I am able to pour that out and continue loving and living with my heart divided all over the world.

Loving people. Loving every minute of every day.

I have a lot to say about my excursion to Cape Town, about my month of December, about what is coming up in the very near future. I live an exciting life, people. I have a lot to share. But, I am an introvert who has been surrounded by people for the last 21 days (maybe more) without rest. Constant interaction with people. (And no, sleeping does not count as not being around people. Only an extrovert would say that.) Give me a few days and I should have enough blogs to keep you entertained for the rest of the month, maybe longer.