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Lamentations.

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*i wrote this post 2 weeks ago while lamenting the really sucky things that exist in our world.  i know my words don't change anything and i'm just another white girl trying to process things i can't possibly understand but writing this helped me find hope in despair and so i'd thought i'd share* Today I was planning on writing a blog about celebration.   But then life happened.   I read news of the horrors in Charlottesville. And then I passed by unthinkable poverty on the way to church.   I remain untouched by so much of it, being the white westerner that I am who can afford the nice apartment next to the cinderblock homes and piles of burning trash.   Somedays I can even ignore it all, being thousands of miles away from the hateful rhetoric in the U.S. and a lifelong beneficiary of white privilege.   But today was not one of those days.   Today I couldn’t ignore any of it.   So instead of celebrations, I’ll write about lamentations.   The word lament has
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Beginnings.

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I’m nearly four weeks into my time in Uganda and life has finally begun to find a steady rhythm.  While transitioning into life in another culture has been more difficult than I remembered, I continue to be amazed by the people God has placed in my life here and by the fleeting moments of clarity when I feel God’s call on my heart stronger than ever.  It feels like yesterday I was stepping out of the plane on my first trip to Uganda 4 years ago.   I vividly remember smelling red dirt and polluted air while sensing an unexplainable feeling of familiarity.   Within just 48 hours of being in this country, I knew this place was special and that it would one day be home .   Over those first two summers, Uganda completely captivated my heart.   I fell in love with the dirt roads and green hills, the vivacious people, their unbreakable spirit, and the tangible hope that ascended out of poverty and pain.   I spent those few months experiencing life in a way that was more broken y
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