NO PLACE I WOULD RATHER BE

          I walk down the street in this town and children flock to me.  I am surrounded by kids, toddlers to teenagers, each reaching out in hopes to be able to grab some part of my shirt, skirt, or one of my so-verycoveted ten fingers.  They walk with me and laugh as they fall over each other because they are so determined to be the closest to me.  We sing loudly, trip often, and giggle uncontrollably.     

          In these moments I forget the stench of the combination of garbage and weed that is hovering over this town.  I forget the sweat that is steadily streaming down my face, neck, and back.  I forget that these are the dirty city kids. 

          When I look into their eyes it's easy to forget that they're supposed to be the outcasts.  I just wish I could space them out enough to give each one of them attention; i wish i could spend time with each one individually, hugging them and letting them know they are loved by a God that is wiping away their past, sovereign in the their struggles, and bigger than any problem they're facing.

          I want them each to feel the love of their Savior.  So I do the only thing I can, I love them.  As children of my Heavenly Father, I can't help but love them. I take time to ask them questions and I listen until I have heard an answer from each child.  I work hard to remember their names that sound so much like gibberish to me.  I want them to know they are each unique.
          We are called to be the hands and feet of Jesus everyday, wherever we are.  And it's funny that in these moments where I get to love on them with Christ's love, I'm the one feeling blessed.  Words can't describe how honored I am to have the opportunity to be in this position. It's better than getting a ton of new clothes at the mall, spending the day at the beach, or even white water rafting down the Nile.  I am surrounded by the Holy Spirit, and there is no place I would rather be.

         

NECESSITIES?

I haven't had a shower in a week, and the last shower I took included splashing myself from a bucket.  A toilet is definitely not happening any time soon.  I am living in the bush of Uganda with the village people. There is not electricity, and we sleep on the floor.  We have something somewhat like tea with breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday when it's already almost too hot to function. These might sound like complaints, but they're not.  There is nowhere I would rather be right now. The scenery here is as close to Heaven as any place on Earth can possibly be.  The people are kind-hearted, gentle, and desire to serve me when I came here to serve them.  I spend time playing with kids who know almost no English.  I've found that you don't have to speak the same language to communicate.  They may not say much more than a greeting and their names, but I don't need them to speak to know about them.  I know they love nail polish.  They'll scratch it off just so I give them the attention to paint their nails again.  I know they love singing.  I know they love tickle fights and playing swords with bamboo sticks.  I know they love to form a circle and play repeat-after-me dance games and to laugh until they're crying.  Kids come from farther than my mom would ever let me walk when I was their age because they heard rumors of mzungus (white people) in the village.  When they see us drive by, piled in the back of our white pick-up truck, they run in the red dust that the truck spits out with more endurance than I have ever had. Some stare in amazement, others cry out of fear.  The really courageous ones approach us to shake our hands. On hut-to-hut ministry visits, we've met elderly men and women who have never seen an American before.  They cling on every word we say, and they desire Christ because of us.  We're praying that each individual that requests salvation after hearing from us is sincere.  We're trusting God that He works in their hearts.  We want the Ugandan people to know Christ because we know He is the only God, but sometimes we're just a way for the translators to guilt people into agreeing because we've "come all the way from America." The smell here is something completely new to me, yet it's so familiar.  The dirt is red, just like all the rumors. Six months ago if you told me this is where I'd be, I would have laughed. I never dreamed this would be a reality, but it is.   Today I'm feeling overwhelmed by how blessed I am to have been chosen to be here right now.

LET THE JOURNEY BEGIN

I have been so blessed in my life. My life has been changed by the people in this picture. They are my church leaders, kids I babysit, my parents' friends, my role models, my mentors, but most importantly, this is a group of people I get to call my very closest friends. I am so grateful to have had this time for all of them to come together and lift me up in prayer before leaving, and I am even more thankful for the impact they have each made on me.

Sometimes I can't believe this is more than just a dream. Tomorrow I fly to Atlanta until the 17th, when we will leave for Amsterdam connecting to Uganda. I know God has amazing things in store for me that I can't even imagine yet. I am praying God will use me in BIG ways.

So this is it, after hours of rearranging and eliminating, I'm finally packed. I've got my electronics charged and extra copies of my passport all printed. This journey, that actually began a couple months ago when I felt the Lord tugging on my heart, is taking the big step tomorrow.

VUNJIKA

Of all the things that could be stressing me out about this trip, thinking of the perfect blog address seemed to take the cake. I'm a details person so the fact that I don't have my sleeping bag, clothes, back pack, head lamp, tent...actually, let me reverse that. The fact that all I have so far is a drawstring bag, an extra tooth brush, and a couple skirts doesn't really stress me out. I like the rush of getting everything together in the end. As far as pre-trip preparations, the blog was weighing on my mind. I've asked for input from my friends and family, but I just didn't find what I was looking for.

A lot of "allieinafricas" and "theadventuresofallies" came up, or, even better, "theadventuresofallieinafrica" was a popular vote. Too general. Then I got suggestions that seemed confusing like "sendhermender" or just "mendher" trying to play off my last name. Too complex. I wanted something that would be more of a glimpse into the purpose behind the trip, and I also want to be able to use this blog again wherever the Lord takes me next. And if that's not Africa, I don't want to be stuck with an African web address.

It's such a silly aspect, but I prayed about it. As I prayed for something to just pop up, I started thinking about what I had asked God originally that brought me to this trip. I asked him to break my heart for what breaks His.

A couple years ago I decided to make that request the motto for my life, and in the past year I knew I was beginning to lose that desire. I long to be broken for the things that break God's heart. Social injustice. Curable diseases killing hundreds and thousands. Hunger. Poverty. Abandoned and unloved children. God's heart breaks for His people that are going through these things, and as I developed a renewed zeal for pleasing Him, God broke my heart for them more than ever before. After begging the Lord to be overly clear, just so I would be sure, I knew I was going to Africa.

I'm going on a journey through Uganda, Kenya, and Tanzania, and I'll be back in May. We'll see where God takes me next, but I've decided after trying things my own way that I won't try and make my own plans any more. I've truly been broken, but a new kind of broken. This is a broken I've never known before, a broken that keeps me closer to Christ than ever, and a broken that is actually a good thing. In the past six months, the Lord has turned my life upside down, taken me through the hardest trials I've ever faced, and brought me RIGHT HERE, on my way to Africa with a group of people I've never met and an organization I know virtually nothing about. But, exactly where He wants me.

So broken it is. And since the primary language (beside English) in each of the countries I'll be in is Swahili, I decided to use their word for it. VUNJIKA. It means "to be broken" or "to be wrecked." God has absolutely wrecked me for this purpose. For His purpose. It's completely unconventional to drop out of college after the first semester of my freshman year, but it's exactly what I'm supposed to be doing.

There haven't been many times in my life before this that I have been able to say I am doing exactly what the Lord wants, and I am right where He wants me with much confidence. But I asked God to break my heart for the things that break His, and He did. He asked me to go, and I know I will continue to have struggles and face trials, but the least I can do is go where my Heavenly Father is calling me. Trusting Him, I think I'm about to find out what it really means when broken is a good thing.