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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 never been a consistent part of…

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 yet more beautiful than I can…