You've GOAT to be Kidding Me!

I want to start this with, "I've always loved animals..." but that would be a lie. I'd also be lying if I told you that I've always loved getting dirty, that I've always wanted to live a farmers life or that I enjoy smelling like I've just stepped out of a sewer. What I have always loved is learning, following the craziest path of adventure, and listening and obeying God's voice - no matter how outrageous the situation.

I've been spending a lot of time at my friend Casey's Grade A goat dairy farm, Jeremiah Farms. Though I love fellowship with Casey and the beauty of her sweet farm on Johns Island, SC, what I've been going for lately are the goats. Yes, goats. Recently when people ask what I've been up to and I try to explain that goats is what I've been up to lately, I get a series of reactions. Crinkled noses, confused eye brow raises, questionable "umm ok?"s are among the most popular, But it's the very seldom, "Really? Tell me more!" That get me excited...

I was excited when Casey asked if I'd help "goat sit" for her while her family took a much needed vacation to see family in Oregon. The fact that she trusted me with the daily chores of feeding, milking, and caring for her lively bunch was an honor. I've done this plenty of times with her, no big deal right?

I started on a Sunday morning and took an early morning 2 hour drive from Bluffton to Johns Island. As soon as I pulled up to the farm, it started to rain. Casey sent me some instructional emails the week before and I was quickly reminded of her note that "goats hate rain." I jumped out of my Jeep, put on my farm shoes and got to work. The drizzle wasn't so bad and actually felt good in the heat and humidity of the South Carolina morning. The does, the bucks, the kids, the dogs, the cats, the chickens and the calf were all fed so I started to set up in the milking barn to prepare to get all 9 of the girls in and out as easily and quickly as possible. As I disinfected and set up all of my milking materials I could hear the rain pound harder on the roof top. I sighed a little as I continued to set up, because you know, goats hate rain.

There's about 20 yards or so from the back of the barn to the milk barn. I set out to grab the first goat, ditching my umbrella and not caring about the steady rainfall at this point. With a little persuasion, Sydney was up in the milking stand ready to go. Maybe this won't be so hard after all... After each goat, the rain got a little heavier, the ground a little muddier, and each goat grew more and more stubborn. Needless to say, goats hate rain. It was taking what seemed forever, but slowly, one by one I was getting the job done. Spring, Skylar, Cookie, Glory, Lucy, Cora, Libby, and... and... Joanie is probably the most stubborn of God's creations I've ever met. No matter how I tried to coax her, she would not budge from the corner of the barn. After about thirty minutes I sent a text to Casey. I sat in the barn feeling defeated. "She must be milked. If not, she could develop mastitis. Drag her out kicking and
Screaming, I don't care. Just get her milked!" Was Casey's response. I was soaked from the rain already. I took a few minutes until I physically and emotionally rolled up my sleeves. Joanie was going to get to that barn and she was going to be milked! I was determined.

By this time I could have sworn I was in the middle of a hurricane. The rain hammered down, thunder so loud and lightening so close I jumped with each clap and strike. I pushed. I pulled. I pushed her from behind. Pulled her front legs. Wrapped my arms around her entire body and tried to drag. Nothing. I could see through her eyes that she was laughing at me, but I was not going to let her win! Every muscle in my body was now in pain. I had blisters forming on my hands from her collar. I was covered in a sloppy, soupy mixture of dirt and manure. At one point I was pushing so hard, my feet slipped and before I knew it, I was riding Joanie right on back to the back of the barn! I finally got her close enough to the barn door that the mud river forming worked to my advantage. She couldn't get a good footing and with every last bit of strength and energy I had, I pulled her to the milking barn. She hopped up on the milking stand and as I latched her in, I collapsed to the floor. I was on that barn floor for at least two minutes, laughing hysterically! I was filthy. I was now drenched in some uneven combination of rain, sweat, and tears. When she was finally finished being milked, I bottled the goods for the day, cleaned up, and ran to my car. I smelt like something that had just crawled out from under a compost pile. I was finally on my way to a warm shower and a nap. What should have taken about 45 minutes took almost 2 hours. I laughed the whole way to my friends apartment, calling my mom to tell her how I had just wrestled 9 goats in a hurricane. She laughed at me, of course. I learned many lessons that day, but the biggest and most important one being... goats hate rain. :)

I'm telling you this story for two reason. One, so you can hopefully laugh at me and picture this spoiled, manicured blond knee deep in goat mess (haha!), but also to tell you about where my heart is. If you ask me what I'm doing right now, the answer is "goats." I'm reading about them, dreaming about them, learning all I can about them, milking them, and praying about them... I believe with all my heart that God is calling me to minister in Uganda using these wonderfully beautiful creatures. My prayer is to someday provide goats milk, and it's amazing nutritional benefits, to children in Uganda. Just Google "goats milk" and you will be blown away with what a super food it actually is! Malnourished children, orphaned babies, tiny ones whose mothers are HIV positive and unable to nurse, I want to give them an option other than death. It may all sound a bit crazy now, and there are times I ask God, "Are you sure?" But I have no doubt, that somehow, this is where my life is headed. Pray with me? It's a scary road, but I'd be foolish not to follow His call when He has been so incredibly faithful in the past. His desires are my desires and I can't wait to see how He uses me to change the lives of those He loves. So today I'm dreaming about being a goat farmer in Africa, but not trying to think about the rainy season that happens there every few months, because if you haven't heard... goats hate rain.

Pieces

I often compare my life to one of those 5,000 piece jigsaw puzzles. Every once in awhile, out of the blue, God hands me another piece. If you've ever tried to complete one of these puzzles, you'll understand exactly what I'm talking about... You see, some of the pieces have bright colors, defined outlines, and I know exactly where they fit into my life picture. Other pieces aren't so clear and when handed to me I often ask God if He's made a mistake. The strange shape or darkness of a particular piece confuses me. Just like those dark, difficult times that leave us confused as to why this is happening to us or why God will allow it.

But I have come to realize two important things about those pieces. Sometimes the meaning of those dark pieces are immediately clear, even if we don't want them to be (I.e. a change in jobs that is difficult but will lead to great possibilities.) Other times those confusing, dark pieces must humbly be set aside and God will eventually show you exactly where they go, even if it's years later. (i.e Sexual abuse transformed into a ministry to help others who have experienced a similar situation.) And then there are those pieces God uses  merely as connection pieces to bridge other life events and pieces of your life puzzle together; difficult yet extremely necessary.

I am thankful for all the little pieces I have stashed away in my pocket, both good and bad. Some I look at so confused but completely trusting God to work into my puzzlee in some amazing way for His glory. And other pieces, I get so excited about that they seem to want to jump out of my pocket at every possible opportunity! But each piece, I must patiently wait for the perfect time to let God use.

So far this blog has been all about pieces. My life has been all about pieces. But I feel Him moving, pulling things together now and I'm more excited than you could imagine! I can't wait for you to experience all these puzzle pieces coming together in my life with me!

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." ~Romans 8:28~

Books & Bananas

You might remember the little story of the "banana boy;" a young boy in Uganda who I became friends with a few months ago. (His story is titled "Fruit of the Spirit" if you'd like to read his story in how he stole my heart.) Not only did this kid steal my heart, but I received many emails from friends and family at home telling me how he touched their hearts in some way. After I posted, expressing my desiree to somehow get this amazingly brilliant child back in school, I was contacted by two sisters in the US who eagerly wanted to make an impact and pay for Ashiraf's schooling. I was overwhelmed with joy! I spent my last full day in Uganda arranging Ashiraf's schooling...

Every Ugandan I introduced Ashiraf to expressed to me how important it would be to get this 8 year old back in school. He's whitty. He's brilliant. And most of all he has a spirit that screams determination to change the world. A good friend happily agreed to do whatever he could to get this boy back in school. This intailed visiting with Ashiraf's step mother, a Muslim women who spoke no English, visiting the school where Ashiraf was previously enrolled, and spending the day going back and forth from Walukuba to Jinja with 3 people packed on one boda (motor cycle taxi.) But by the end of the day, we ALL went to bed with a smile on our faces. School fees had been paid thanks to the love of "strangers" in the US, whose hearts were touched and tugged by the Holy spirit to act in even the simplist of ways to help one of God's children on the other side of the world. Every time I think about it I am overwhelmed with joy & love. The $200 donated not only put Ashiraf back in school, but paid for his books, and a meal plan (dinner had been his only meal every day.)

Ashiraf's school term ended after I returned home. He still sells bananas after school a few days a week. My friend is able to catch up with him from time to time so I get a frequent update on how Ashiraf is doing... out of a class of 83 students, my favorite little banana boy finished the term as #3 in his entire class!!! Tears form every time I tell someone this. Lol I'm like a proud mama who can't wait to see what becomes of this kid and how God will use him to impact Uganda.

Don't ever think that you can't make an impact. Your small donation, your prayers, your fundraisers, they make a difference. He hasn't called all of us to go to foreign lands to spread the love of Jesus, so I am happy & excited to work as an ambassador for my community. God is still working y'all and I know it won't be long until I'm back with Ashiraf and all the other beautiful children of Uganda.

"Home"

I've been "home" for over three months and haven't written a post. I just didn't know how or even what to say. Yesterday I found this scribbled in one of my personal notebooks, ink running in certain places as a result of tears that fell on the pages while writing. Hopefully it will help you understand where my heart has been...

March 15th, 2014

Two days home and I'm already unsure of where I am. I wake up in the middle of the night completely confused.

I drove today and felt completely  backwards on the other side of the road. It took everything in me not to cut people off or drive in the grass around them like I've been expected to do for the past 6 months.

I stopped at Barnes & Noble where I  ordered an extremely overpriced coffee.  B&N used to be my little place of refuge when I was home when I longed for a little  peace in my soul.  I strolled around the store that I'd been in a hundred times before, but now I felt lost. The bright shiny book covers overwhelmed me. Whatever they were holding in the pages behind them, the "secrets to life," did it really matter?

Somehow I found myself in the "Travel" section. My eye shifted through the names of foreign countries written in bold fonts down the spines of the thick books. As my eyes only browsed, my heart was searching desperately. It wasn't there. No map, no book. Did it even exist? Is Uganda a place I dreamed up in my own mind that nobody here even knows about?

People ask me questions all the time, but then only half listen to the answer. Do they really care? And sometimes it's not the questions that  get to me. "I bet you're so happy to be home," they say, not even asking but telling me, because who could ever find happiness in a small little land-locked country in Africa? What "privileged" American girl could ever stay in a 3rd world country any longer than a few weeks without wanting to run back to her Starbucks coffee and Ugg boots?

I started crying right there in the middle of the Travel section of Barnes & Noble because it now hit me, I wasn't in my little Uganda anymore. And the little haven I thought I had here suddenly turned into a place just like the rest, a place that wasn't Uganda. I wiped away the tears and kept walking. I walked past the window and caught a glimpse of my sparkly polished self in it's reflection. Just a few days ago I was knee  deep in red dirt, helping remove jiggers from little feet in the village and now here I am drinking designer coffee with a face full of makeup.

Readjusting is going to be much more difficult than I thought...

Just one day.

I was really praying for a “vacation.” I have literally gone through every God given emotion these past 6 month in Uganda and to be honest, I wasn’t ready to jump right back into my old American life. I needed a debriefing, some time alone with God to just breathe. But since I had spent every dime in my personal savings account while being here, I knew that a vacation wasn’t an option...

It was an emotional day on my way to the airport to return back to the US. It’s like I was right in the middle of some of the most exciting days of my life and I was having to walk away. On top of that I was suffering from some serious mysterious stomach pain which only got worse as my departure time neared. I was dropped off at the airport for my flight which was to leave at 11:30pm. As I went through the check in process, I joked with many of the workers that they’d have to push me onto the plane since I didn’t want to leave. “Then you stay!” they all said to me, but I knew at this point I didn’t have a choice. 

After all the hassle of checking in and finding a seat among the crowded lobby, it was announced that our plane was still in Rwanda with a cracked windshield from hitting a bird while in flight. Then about thirty minutes later they informed us the flight was canceled. They shuttled us all to a nearby hotel for the night while they worked on new itineraries. And that’s where I am now...

The hotel is beautiful. Easily one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever stayed. I laughed at myself when I got so excited about a real bath tub, air conditioning, and a TV. Even the site of a lamp and a full length mirror amazed me! I took another dose of my medicine, updated my friends and family of my “situation” and went to sleep. 

This morning I woke up to a full buffet breakfast and made new sweet friends. And now I’m currently sitting on the beach (yes the beach) enjoying the beautiful view, the sound of birds and a nice cool breeze. Just me and God. Exactly the "vacation" I had been praying for.

God has truly amazed me every single step of the way. Every step of my life has been laced with His mercy and love. And even today, if it’s just one day of a free vacation, I’m so grateful. It’s exactly what I needed. I’ve had the opportunity to see another part of Uganda that most don’t get to and to experience His glory yet again. It’s almost overwhelming. With each breathe I am breathing Him in. And with each breath I breathe out, I pray it’s not in vain but in full service to God because of what He has done for me, someone doesn’t even deserve it. “Lord I’m amazed by you and how you love me.”

Please pray for me as I transition back “home.” I’ll share with you now what I’ve felt for some time now... Uganda is my heart's home. This is where God has called me and as I’m back in the US I will be preparing to come back yet again. My heart belongs here. I’m thankful for your outpouring of love and support as I follow the life I know God has called me to live. 

My name is Namudiba. This is my story...

"I am happy to say that I have a great husband. He works very hard for our four children and for me. Especially for me. Since giving birth to my children I have developed a horrible pain in my lower body that refuses to go away. Because of my pain I am not able to work. My husband is a borda driver and taxis people around on a motorcycle. He does not own the motorcycle and at the end of the day must give most of the money he has earned to the owner. What we have left after that is very little. We have no money for school fees for our children. The money we have is used to take me to the hospital. After many times being at the hospital, the doctors are still clueless as to what might be wrong with me. I just want to feel well so that I can help my husband and send my children to school. Please pray for me."

-Good health care for women in villages is very rare in Uganda. Though a health center may be near, it can be costly for them to go. For example, a woman giving birth must BRING with her to the hospital four pairs of plastic gloves, a large plastic bag or sheet to lay underneath her, a large amount of cotton, and whatever else she thinks she may need. Nothing is provided. Though the cost for these materials ends up being less than $10, most women cannot afford that. Many of these women are left with horrible complications after childbirth that can cause life long pain and even death. Please pray for Namudiba and women like her who have severe medical conditions with little hope of comfort or healing. Our God is a god of miracles. 

My name is Ruth. This is my story...

I married very young. I was the second wife to my husband who has now passed away. Together, we had 8 children but I have had to bury 5 of them. All of my daughters are now dead. They were murdered. The youngest was killed just last year while attending university in Nairobi. The others were killed in different ways by their co-wives. I now care for 6 grandchildren on my own. It is difficult to find money for school fees for them all yet I am blessed that two of them have found sponsorship. Still, we struggle. I am still praying for help with the other four. I am too old to work and some nights, I don’t have a place to sleep. After my husband died, my co-wife started abusing me and took away my home so that her children would all have a place to stay. She says I am worthless and cursed since most of my children have died before I have. But maybe she’s right. One of my daughters bodies was dug up after she died by a local witchdoctor. I don’t know what her body was used for but the village has now called me cursed because of it. I am only growing older and my body is failing. I am afraid that my grandchildren will be left alone on this earth. Please pray for me.

-Thank God for grandmothers. It is very common for a grandmother in Uganda to raise multiple grandchildren. The reasons this happens can range from the children’s parents living in other areas to work, death of one or both parents, or abandonment of the child by their parents. We see the grandmother taking in her grandchildren often because of her immense love for them. However, because they are older, can’t work, and must stay home with the children, they can not provide financially. Often times this leaves the only choice to abandon the younger children and put them in an orphanage. As much as this grandmother loves her grandchildren, she simply can’t provide. Please pray for the jjajja’s of Uganda, raising their grandchildren and praying that they will be tomorrow’s leaders, producing change for their country.