At only one year she was abandoned at the hospital. She couldn't speak to tell anyone who her guardian was or what they looked like or if they would be back. A few days passed and she found herself in a yard full of other children her size and ladies she didn't know. Every day she is loved, fed, and cared for but it's not enough. She goes down the slide laughing the entire way and lands in my arms. She places her arms around my neck and points back to the slide. She is my friend and I see Jesus in her. "The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Hassan is around 15 years old and calls my name from across the street. He runs to me and immediately asks where I'm going and I reply "market" and without hesitation from either of us we walk together hand in hand. On our way he makes sure I don't get hit by cars or ripped off by local vendors. Hassan knows the streets well because he lives there and most days he likes it that way. He has big dreams of being a taxi driver and going to America. With the little money he gets from begging or selling soap, Hassan will buy me popcorn not expecting anything in return and when I give him money for it he says "don't mind". Hassan is my friend and I see Jesus in him. "This poor man called, and the LORD heard him; he saved him out of all his troubles. "

I follow the sound of humming sewing machines through the loud, muddy market. "Auntie M, you're most welcome!" comes from a small blue stall. We greet each other with hugs and hand shakes as I make my way to an empty spot on the floor. We spill our insides and chat like we've known each other for a lifetime when really it's been only a year or a few months, even a few weeks. Each of us from different backgrounds, tribes, and religions but we love each other. These ladies are my friends and I see Jesus in them. "The eyes of the LORD are on the righteous, and his ears are attentive to their cry."

Jaja Pius loves serving her family. She wraps her grandchild in a blanket and ties the baby to her back as she digs in the garden. She walks barefoot through the village and greets everyone along her way. I bring her some beans or fish and she kneels down to thank me and I get down on my knees and rub her back. Jaja Pius is my friend and I see Jesus in her."The LORD will rescue his servants; no one who takes refuge in him will be condemned"

I spend my days staring Jesus right in the face.
Every day is different but every day He's there calling my name, seeking my attention.
Some days I refuse to look back - I don't acknowledge His good and perfect gifts...His people.
Some days It's all I can do to keep from falling flat on my face before Him...hugging His people.

Everyday is different but every day He's there calling my name, seeking my attention.
"...I saw God face to face and He spared my life."
He's there looking back at us - even on the hardest days.
Turn your eyes to Him...it makes all the difference.
*

bringing love with a sword

Recently Joe and I started going to a bible study here that has really been making me think about what I truly believe. How it goes is the leader will tell stories of things that have happened in the bible but these stories are told almost like "old wives tales". It's fantastic - because this makes it easier to remember and re-tell but also helps us to ask questions instead of taking the verses for just what they are - allowing us to dig deeper. I would like to post here about what I've been learning as a way to share but also remember.

We started with creation and Adam & Eve.
While we were discussing these stories I couldn't stop thinking about the song "When We Fell" by David Bazan - this song made me extremely uncomfortable when I first heard it.
"...If you knew what would happen and made us just the same then you, my Lord, can take the blame..."
I was quick to think that God would never do something like that to us. The bible study leader asked if God is just playing games with us. once again I was uncomfortable and immediately thought about God's mercy and gave Him the benefit of the doubt. But after a lot of thought I can see how people think that God simply is just messing around with us - like we're puppets. I was reading through the verses several times and couldn't help but notice that God SEEKS US. He extends His grace quicker than He gives curses. When Adam & Eve ate the forbidden fruit He WENT LOOKING for them and asked what happened. He gave them a chance to ask for forgives but instead passed the blame around. When Cain killed his brother Abel God WENT TO HIM and asked where Abel was - Cain lied.

"Because the God who is Love desires to love the whole world and genuine love involves freedom, the creatures of the Creator have received the gift of freedom to love God as a result of God’s own free decision to create and love."

Last week we read the story of Noah and what struck me the most during this story is Genesis 6:6 "The LORD regretted that he had made human beings on the earth, and his heart was deeply troubled" He felt regret. we discussed this at length and we ended with "God Himself never changes but He changes His mind". This makes me feel like He is flexible, that He hears our cries and re-acts with genuine feelings. He may know everything that will happen before it happens but He may not know how it's going to make Him feel in the moment.



*We serve a God that is LOVE and love is messy. When love comes in there has to be room for changes and flexibility. I'm learning a lot about this personally. As God uses His sword to cut away everything that is not Love inside of me (matthew 10:34) I'm having to change a lot and although I thought I counted the costs it's been really hard and painful. Please keep us in your prayers as we keep going ahead with all this stretching.

to those who read this: we love you!

rise and fall

Sorry again for the lack of updates.
To be honest it's been hard to write lately because life's been hard.
Lots of letting go of things that I have been carrying for years.
Lots of dreams lost and relationships broken.
Lot's of good to come though...at least I have hope.

Once again, I find this fitting:
"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives? When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.” But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed. Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy. Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced. When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall."-Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran

well this is embarrassing...

I completely fail at keeping this blog up to date.
I promise I will be better... someday.

In the meantime go here. It's surprisingly up to date.
I also started this whole "friday favorites" thing - which I already missed one.
I really apologize for all this not writing business.

If you are really itchin' for some good blogs check out FAITH BLOGS.

Hope you are all well and that you have a fantastic Easter weekend!
love, Melissa

A glimpse of Tukula

We made a video! It gives a small glimpse at what Tukula's tailoring business does and we can't stop watching it over here - we get to hang out with these women whenever we want but this video totally puts everything into perspective for us. We love them and we hope you can get to know them a bit better through this video!

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus" (Phil. 4:6-7)

There's a little boy I mention A LOT his name is Becaham. He was a part of serving his children's malnutrition rehab program back in the spring of 2010. That's how Joe and I got to know him and fell in love with him. Every time something was happening with his family/situation the director of SHC would call us and let us know. We prayed for him and loved on him and desired for him to grow in Jesus. We took him in for the month of June while the Director was in America and during that time a lot of people told us that we should "just adopt him" there was "no hope for his family" and so I became vulnerable and really wanted to adopt this little boy and make him a part of our family. I daydreamed about taking him to America and about meeting my family and how great it would be to have him in our lives forever. and then in July he went home - I was selfishly hurting and felt like I had lost a child and was unbelievably bitter towards all the things "standing in the way" between Becaham and I being together. I tried to distract myself so I dove head first into Tukula - designing, relationship building, sourcing materials, building a website/online store, getting promotional materials, etc etc and I loved it. I was so happy to be doing what we set out to do here and to be spending some time learning about three very incredible women. But this little boy captured a large part of my heart so I constantly thought about him - about what he was doing - if someone was loving him - if he was happy and healthy...

In early November we decided to visit him in his village called Mayuge. We took a translator and we learned that Becaham was "good but not so good" we started interceding on Becahams behalf and my heart ached - "WHY GOD can't he just be with us?" - We went back the very beginning of December to check up on him again - once again we took a translator and heard so many different things - women of the village kept saying "just take him there is no one here to care for that boy" - we heard stories of cowives coming and going of arguments about who would care for the boy. Once again my heart was aching - "WHY GOD can't he just be with us?". I pleaded with God and asked him to take the desire to have him away from me if it was not His will to have Becaham be a part of our family - I wanted so badly to guard my heart.

We asked the family if Becaham could spend Christmas with us - they were excited and happy that we wanted to take him. Two weeks passed and we went to pick up Becaham up and the father told us that all his wives had left and there was no one to care for Becaham (his 7- year old twin brothers were currently the ones to do so). He asked if we could take him for five years and then bring him back for school. Joe told him our situation - about how we didnt know if we would be in Uganda for five years and that if we took him we would want him forever. the dad immediately said "NO" - almost chuckling like Joe was crazy for even thinking that he would give his child up forever. We were shocked - all we have ever heard was "just take him" we never knew there was a time limit or that the dad actually cared (or at least what it seemed like). After the next three days he was with us we thought about everything - we thought about the possibility of fostering him and decided that if he was going to return to the village living with us, learning english, getting used to us being his "parents" was not a good idea so we decided to tell the father that we would be willing to help him with anything but we couldn't take him for only 5 years. my heart ached and again I pleaded with God - "WHY can't he just be with us?"

The day after Christmas we made the trek back to Mayuge to return Becaham and give the dad the dad our decision. When we arrived who was there to greet us but a NEW WIFE. I was SHOCKED - seriously THREE DAYS LATER. The father was in good spirits and looked relieved - he told us that his family now has hope for Becaham - that basically a new wife had solved all his "problems". As we drove away I just stared and stared at Becaham on the back of his brother. I cried - I cried for Becaham - for his little life and out of how unfair it is that his mom had to die of AIDS. I cried for his dad - that he is so unbelievably wrapped up in Satan's lies. I pray for them a couple times a day and constantly think of him and miss him and wish I could just be his mom. I still continue to ache not just for myself now or that he could just be with us but for Becaham that he will grow up knowing that there is God who LOVES him and DESIRES him and that no matter how many women go in and out of his life - they do not leave because of him.

To be honest I am about to break.
Dealing with this experience and also just seeing other friends who have been hurt because of there husband/father has had multiple wives is ripping my heart apart. I know that it's a different culture here and it's hard to understand without seeing but I ask you please to pray for the women and children around the world feeling unloved, unimportant, and neglected because of men in their lives who are having multiple wives or committing adultery.

I know that for now Becaham is happy - that he knows no different and that he loves the children in his village and they love him. Everyday it gets easier to "let go" and God is bringing me a peace that surpasses all understanding.
hallelujah...

GUEST BLOG

It took about 17 hours to fly from my home in America to Uganda, and about 3 more to realize that I was actually there. Three hours: the approximate amount of time it took for me to shatter every rule and piece of advice that had been offered to me about visiting Africa. . .

Do not travel with undocumented drivers, do not eat uncooked fruits, vegetables, or any food prepared under unsanitary conditions, do not walk in open toe shoes, do not make contact with anyone who appears ill. . . (to name a few).

Yes, believe it or not, people actually said these things. People who I am guessing have never been to Africa , but after all, I had never been there either and although I seriously doubted that these guidelines would be realistic to follow, I did not completely disregard the advice. . .at least on the plane ride there.

Our first afternoon in Uganda and a walk up the rutted red dirt path in Bukaya to the main road gave me a chance to really breathe the air and absorb my surroundings for the first time. I tried to take in the view from ceiling to floor – the open sky, the mountainous island, the sliver of Lake Victoria hovering between the trees and roof tops, the haphazard gardens tumbling to the edge of the path, a goat here, a goat there, a piece of an old flip flop, a chicken, another chicken, more trash, another chicken, a baby playing in the ditch – wait, a baby playing in the ditch? Melissa smiled and pointed up the road, “It’s OK her mother is probably up there somewhere.” Sure enough, two small brown houses down the path was a woman sitting in the doorway, quietly watching us.

We reached the main road and stopped – “Now what?”. “Well, now we just kinda wait for something to come along,” Joe shrugged . . . and just like that, rule number one cracked wide open. Two young Ugandan men on bodas (small motorcycles) pulled up and scooted forward on their seats. Two passengers plus the driver to a boda, a barter down to about 2000 shillings to take us into Jinja town, and suddenly the first ride of my life on a motorcycle was happening in a cotton skirt and sandals, clinging to a stranger in a strange country, weaving around potholes and cutting between trucks.

Exhale, I thought as I loosened my white knuckled fingers from the edges of my boda driver’s jacket . . . just let go. And I did. Within the next hour, I had devoured a vegetable egg wrap (rolex) made by a boy on the street who handed it to me in a scrap of paper from his flour sack and I had gashed my blood gushing bare toe on a rock on my way down to the Source of the Nile. I was quickly drifting from the familiar territory of “be careful” to enjoy the land of “just be.”

I have heard time and time again that Africa is “a different world,” the terrain, the people, the culture. . .but although that is an easy way to describe the physical differences of a country like Uganda, I never really felt that way at heart. When I was able to let go of what I had been told, and began to trust what I was experiencing in the moment, it was as if I was just wandering my own country, my own home, and had somehow come across a bizarre part of town that I had not visited yet - a part of town that was bright and chaotic, lovely and scarred, but more human and real than any place that I had ever been before. Each day seemed to be an enigma of “predictable unpredictability” and that lack of structure often forced our “to-do list” to become more reliant on the people around us rather than on elusive plans. Sometimes it seems easier to trust and depend on plans rather than on people, but the latter requires that one trusts and depends on God a little more.

In an environment that sometimes appeared to be out of control to me, I learned to allow God to take command of my perspective, I began to identify the line between carelessness and faith, and to realize that as much as I needed to let go and trust that my boda driver would take me safely to Jinja, he was having to trust that this nervous American would pay him fairly when we reached our destination.

One of my last days in Jinja I was walking through the market and a woman who had only seen me once before reached out and handed me her baby to hold for her while she helped bag fruit for a customer. While she worked, she never glanced in my direction to make sure that I was still there with her sleeping child in my arms and I wondered if she didn’t care if something happened to him, or if she simply had faith that her baby was in good hands….either way, I like to think that she trusted me in that moment with her most precious gift.

Fortunately it took more than a couple of hours for me to adjust from the Ugandan lifestyle when I returned home. I walked more slowly for awhile, I worried less, and I thought about other people more than my agenda for the day. . .but I am sad to admit that I feel these wonderful side effects wearing off.

When I miss Uganda, sure I miss the red dirt and the beautiful people whom I was blessed to meet, but more than anything, I long for that raw state of mind that forced me to be fully present in each moment, to depend on the “undependable,” and to concern myself with keeping only one rule in this life: an unwavering faith in the God who did not form “Ugandans” and “Americans,” but who simply breathed life into the dust and created willful, fickle humans to love Him. I will never claim that I understand a place like Uganda anymore than I understand a place like America, but my trip across the Atlantic has taught me so much more about this life… “For we are (all) fearfully and wonderfully made.”

Thank you Melissa and Joe, for an experience we will never forget.

Laura Pritchett