The Crazy Adventures of an American Mzungu

Boise has been my mission field for the past two and a half years. God gave me several tasks within this mission, one being my job. I have been given families to love on, and coworkers to share my heart for Jesus. Being a secular environment, I am not suppose to start conversations with the children and families I work with about Jesus. Although the entire staff knows I am a Christian, and that I am not quiet about it, and many families know I am a missionary, which has led to "religious conversations". Never have I considered this a challenge. So much of this mission is about love, not "preaching". I have seen such a beautiful impact Christ has made in my time there. A question will arise about the Bible -- ah, we need to grab the Bible nerd (a self given name, that I totally enjoy)! A kid says something cute about Jesus, "You need to tell Miss Mary when she gets here!" A crisis occurs, "We have been looking for you. They need your prayers." ...

I slipped into a sanctuary I once sat regularly as the service began -- the same way it started for years, and my heart smiled. We began to sing a song I have known by heart most of my life, and the same question that usually floats through my head once again came to me as we sang the words, "It is for freedom You've set us free." Isn't there a better way to word this? I know this song by Darrell Evans is based on Galatians 5:1, "It is for freedom Christ has set you free," but isn't it a little redundant? I understand the point, and I love this song, so I let the moment pass, because as Christians we are not called to be nitpicky. Yet, it is for freedom we are set free! So often we associate freedom with being freed from the power of sin in our lives, which is true. Without grace, we are bound by our sins, which separate us from God. 1 Peter 2:9-10 says, "But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God's own posse...

Partnership development. Support raising. Fundraising. Three terms with the same basic definition, as they also define my life since August. From my point of view, every day brings a number of separate feelings, sometimes at one time. Fear of the unknown, worry funds will not come together in time (again), joy for being called to such an amazing opportunity, and awe of all my Savior has done for me. I find myself often going through these emotions in a matter of seconds.  In January, I needed all my outgoing costs covered, as well as enough people committed to monthly donations to cover my monthly expenses. I fell short in both areas. Fear and worry began to dominate my feelings. I began to doubt if I were truly following God's will, or if I chose to follow this path to the Karimojong for me, not for Him.  This past week, God spoke directly to my fears and worries. I received two large financial gifts from people I never met. These people do not know me, but they see the im...

I stood with my church family, as we sang praises to our King. Yet, I struggled through the song. My heart was troubled as I thought of the song I blared through my speakers on my way to church. As I jammed, the words resonated deeply with my attitude for the past few weeks. The chorus simply says, "you wait so long" (over and over). Oh, how I feel I have waited so long for a promise from God to become a reality -- the promise that He will use me as a full time missionary. Now, I am so close to fulfilling this reality, I feel I could reach out and touch it. But I still have this giant, named Finances, blocking my way. My financial deadline is a number of days away, and I feel he is too great to overcome.  Listening to a song about the frustrations of waiting, my heart felt an odd sense of comfort. But with my family, we sang a song completely opposite of the song that brought me comfort. I could not bring myself to sing the words, "I don't mind waiting on you, Lord...

I fought the bitter cold at o'dark-thirty to enthusiastically torture myself in my crossfit class. I conquered another class, and came home (still in the dark). Longing to crawl back under my blankets, I made the proper hygienic choice and showered before doing so. Just before my head hit the pillow for my early morning nap (when you wake up at 4AM, you take morning naps), I noticed I had a voicemail. This could only mean one thing -- I am being summoned for work! Forget the nap, it's time to kick it into high gear and get ready for the day like a sub (I really wanted to write "boss" but I'm a sub...). "Ah! You know that light green scarf would go so great with this outfit," as I rummaged through my scarf drawer, I began a rather lengthy conversation with myself. I generally feel entitled to such conversations when I am up many hours before the sun, and yet to have the proper amount of coffee. "Where is it?!" I began to panic as my super cute...

She gripped my hands with such urgency, as she begged me to bring a package to her husband in Uganda, whom she had been separated from for a year. I was headed to Redeemer House, and she saw her opportunity. How could I say no? I explained I had small space, but would love to help in any way I could. Now, this package was not as small as I hoped -- plus so heavy! With some creativity, every piece made it's way to Uganda. However, the real challenge would be finding a man whose name I did not know, nor which refugee camp he lived. I carried on with my work as I assisted my first team at the house. I drove them all over Jinja, gathering supplies for their project when my phone rang, "Auntie Mary," Mercy started, "you have a guest," "I have a guest?!" At this point, I had been in country for three weeks, and made very few friends. "He said you have something from his wife in America," "Mama Mupendo's husband! I will be there as soon ...

On my twenty-fifth birthday, I looked back on a high school goal of mine. In one of my classes, we had to make those “by this point in my life I will (fill in the blank)” and make tangible goals to reach the dream. Mine? By age twenty-five, I would own my own hair salon in Newport, Oregon. My plan was to move to the Coast and have my hair license by age twenty so I could begin building a clientele that would sustain my own salon, as I saved to make this dream possible. This July, I hit that birthday. Let me tell you, not a single one of those goals or ambitions were accomplished! Yet, not a single part of me regrets not following my dream. First of all, it was my stubborn personality that kept that dream going for so long. The dream really should have stated, “Prove to others I can do what they said I couldn’t” because if I were to boil down a very long story, that was at the heart of this dream. I pretty much refuse to spend more than five minutes on my own hair. I don’t know what ...