Posts Tagged "hope"


How to Let Go of Anxiety

Around here lately, things have been tough. One of those weeks where you can feel like you’re losing your mind. I used to be afraid to say that, because aren’t I supposed to have it all together? But it was a PMS emotional migraine, sad I had to move San Francisco and leave all my friends behind, will I ever have any friends, my dog is sick, my bills are mounting, infertility sucks, am I going crazy or am I just depressed, shitty (sorry, but let’s get real) type weeks. I had to take my dog RosieTheChippin to the vet hospital

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Clouds on lake

How to Not Let the World Break You

I want to stay in bed in the Bible black pre dawn. I want to slip under the grey sheets in waves of dreams and forget that I know the news. Even before I wake, I know the sadness is coming, chasing me like a shadow. “This world will try and break you,” she says. “But I’m determined not to let it.” Three years ago, I thought losing our baby was a fluke. I thought it was a single tragedy, a tsunami, one wake to its wreckage. I thought, God doesn’t let these things happen to good girls twice. When it

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Mother's Day is hard

When Mother’s Day is Hard

I never used to think about how Mother’s Day affected some women, that it could be the hardest day of the year for them. It never occurred to me that on that special Sunday in church, the red roses handed out, that I would be one of the ones not standing, looking down at my hands, fighting back tears. I never thought there would be no one to cook for me, or bring me eggs with the shells scrambled in, or color crayoned cards with triangle shaped heads. Infertility is a disease that steals hope. It claws at your promise.
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me n my truck

When You Need Purpose

Sometimes in between the kitchen and the washing machine, doing the same acts over again with seemingly little result, I wonder if my life has purpose. I used to love my job. I used to love what I did with a kind of maniacal passion. I used to stay up late writing blog posts and used to look forward to going into the office in Uganda every day to hug each of my beautiful staff each morning. I used to love to sit under a mango tree and counsel a struggling woman. I was someone people looked to for answers, I was

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How to Remain Hopeful

Last year, Niclete was just another woman in Uganda living in the slums, trying to provide for her family of growing children, alone. Last year, she did not have a job, or access to maternal health care. Last year, Niclete gave birth to a still-born baby boy, body too twisted.    Last week, God redeemed all that.   As I struggle through the why’s and wonderings of why bad things happen to good people or any people, for that matter, I look at a picture of Niclete, and I am satisfied that God remembers us. That His intentions towards us

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wedding dress

When Gold Glitters

  When I first came to Uganda’s green earth six years ago at what I thought was the overly mature age of 26, Pauline was one of the child mothers I met who I was immediately drawn to. She had a quiet spirit about her and a face that spoke volumes of the hardships she’d experienced in her mere 16 years. When I started the Rehabilitation Home, she was one of the first to come and live with me. We spent many days and nights talking, as girls love to do. A boy had impregnated her and left her. Alone,

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When Love is Extravagant

            I’m the kind of person who cries a lot. I cry during sad movies. I even cry at happy ones. Like Sea-biscuit. I think that God probably has an X-Large bottle in heaven for my tears. Something more akin to a water tank here in Uganda than a perfume bottle.   So when I say that lately I’ve been so overwhelmed by God’s goodness that I just cried (for a really long time) and it means that I’m happy….maybe you can understand. My husband on the other hand, who always wants to comfort me,

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How to Keep Hoping

I don’t think we realize how much we need hope until it is offered to us, wide and spacious as an open field at dawn. It is then that we realize how desperate we were for it. And slowly we understand that somewhere it was taken from us and our hearts got hard. Because they had to. But softly, and nearly imperceptible, they are coming back to life. I watched two grown black men cry last night. And it was beautiful. Last night, the world was part of something historic and whether you are white, black, Republican or Democrat, it

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How to Fall in Love with Uganda

(Baby holding my finger) (girls hard at work) (girls in their bedroom) (what we took them from) (the road to Awer) (Beatrice, one of our girls sewing at Mama Shekinah’s house) (Florence, one of our formerly abducted girls who now lives with us) (Pauline, cooking in our house) (Kelli Brazzel, one of our volunteers doing medical work) (Mama Shekinah praying for a girl in Awer camp) I’ve only been in the States a few days but have already compiled a list of things I miss about Uganda. I just spoke with the girls who were in counseling class today at

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How to Make a Dream Come True

              Very rarely do dreams actually come true. So when they happen we have to be careful to stop for a moment, breathe in, and give thanks for the miracle of our lives aligning with our purpose. This has been a journey of deep hope and deep disappointments. A journey of love. One that is unending and unrepentant in what it asks of us. But today, the dream became a reality, the thing that I hoped for, became a part of my life. Today we danced to a drumbeat. In our home, we danced

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