He Powerfully Works

His eyes were huge with a combination of shock and horror. Suddenly I burst into laughter and saw the fear melt from his eyes at this strange mzungu standing in front of him, covered head to toe in muddy water.

We had an overnight in the village a few weeks ago on land right on the Nile. I wanted to read my book next to the river and was making my way down there when a 12 year old Ugandan came to direct me to his favorite spot to sit. However, my long skirt didn't stretch as much as I thought as I leaped across a stream, only to find another one on the other side with my face. I'm sure it was quite the sight, and I'm glad there were no other bazungu to view this scrape of mine, but I did laugh! Laughter is such beautiful medicine. 

Christmas has come and gone now -- filled with Norwegian food, friends, more laughter, and no snow. It was hard to be away from family for the first time, but God has blessed me with a wonderful community here. It has been so refreshing to step back and be still before the grind starts again in January.

SO happy to go home!

"He will tend His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs in His arms; He will carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those that are with young." - Isaiah 40:11

Hansel on Christmas Eve

Sandra has come home! I know I didn't tell the whole story here as it deals with a lot of the unseen corruption that we dealt with, but it was a mess. Long story short: Sandra went in on Monday and even though she wasn't in labor, she ended up having a C-section on Wednesday. Her baby boy -- Hansel -- had meconium aspiration and was near death, so we rushed him to the best hospital in Uganda in the capitol city. After two weeks on oxygen and a feeding tube, they are back in Jinja at a place called Serving His Children, run by my friend Renee. This whole situation tore me apart and left me in tears after fighting the doctors and seeing my friend suffer. Holding him in my arms on our way back from Kampala to feel his chest move up and down with his own breath brought happy tears to my eyes. I love seeing God touch His children and bring healing.

I want to tell you a story: I spend a good amount of time in a slum called Masese with people from the tribe of Karamajong. I have gotten to be good friends with many of them and love just spending time sitting under the tree sipping tea. A while back, my translator Irene told me that I need a name in Karamajong to show that I have been accepted. She asked what time of year I was born, and being in October, traditionally I would be named after the harvest.

Nalem -- harvester

She asked if I liked the name -- Katie Nalem (they pronounce Kate as Katie, with a soft "ie" (if that makes any sense?)) -- and suddenly her eyes grew large as she exclaimed, "Oh! Auntie Kate! It's perfect!" I liked the sound of it, but was confused as to why she was so excited, until she quoted Scripture at me.

"The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest." -- Luke 10:2

I am Katie Nalem. And in the impossibly hard times, I remember, "For this I toil, struggling with all HIS energy that HE powerfully works within me." Colossians 1:29

It's Him. It's all Him.

Forgotten?

I've always appreciated honesty.

Can I be honest with you?

Sometimes I hate being here. I hate waking up in a strangers house, wearing different clothes, not being able to straighten my hair. I hate that I speak differently here, even when I'm speaking English: I say things like “You look smart!” meaning you look nice, or “I just shifted” meaning I moved. I hate that even though I know I'm not forgotten, I feel like I am. In America I constantly had friends over and went to coffee and texted all day long.

Do you know the phrase, “Out of sight, out of mind”? It doesn't apply to me.

While in a pity party this week I started to realize that life continues in America for all of my friends and family. Yeah, maybe you think of me once and a while, but life was not altered by my departure. I started thinking that my life has no value if I could be dead or alive and it wouldn't matter to anyone's daily life there. Harsh thoughts, I know, but they were there.

As the tears fell I recalled a small Bible verse I had memorized as a kid. “He must increase, but I must decrease.” (John 3:30)

I strive so hard to be known and loved and to make a difference; I long to be wanted. But when I think of my life, I want it to be more. I want to be seen as one who sought to make Him known and to tell the forgotten that they are loved and to show them that HE made a difference. That's what I want.

In the midst of my struggles in being in a foreign country as a single young woman, God has increased. Life here is hard, I'm not going to pretend it's not. But it's also wonderful and filled with hope and joy. It's filled with people that I love that are loved immensely more by the Father. He goes before me and is the reason that I am living in Jinja. He is the reason, it has nothing to do with me. It has everything to do with Him.

Do you ever have these thoughts?

Struggles and Strivings

"Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?"
-- Anne Shirley

Do you ever have days when you just don't like yourself?

Or weeks...or months...?

That has been my honest struggle as of late. I recount later how I shouldn't have said that remark, or I should have had better communication, how I was truly in the wrong in a situation, or any number of other things. I lay awake at night and think through them and wonder if I should just give up.

I know my faults; I'm keenly aware of them. But just in case they were to slip my mind for a moment, Satan is always there with a frying pan to smack me upside the head with a painful reminder.

Baby Isaac! Born Dec 8!

Do you ever have days when you just don't like this world?

Or weeks...or months...?

The honest truth is this: this world is corrupt. I see it in Uganda more than I do elsewhere, but it's all around. It is seen in every aspect here. The doctors who work at government hospitals will treat you for a bribe but if you question them on anything, any kindness or civility goes out the window. Government officials won't move papers alone without a nice bribe unless you know someone higher than them who can get the ball moving. Bribes and "under the table" are a part of every day life for most. When you don't want to play the system, you get burned. Along with anyone that you're connected to.

This week has had many tears.

Some days I exhale and thank God that the day is done and never has to happen again. Some days I pray that tomorrow will be different.

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

Sometimes, I hate Uganda. Sometimes I want to give up; the battle is too big and I'm tired of fighting. But all the time, I love my friends here. I think of them by name each night as a reminder of why I continue in this struggle daily: Irene, Chio, Abrah, Naduk, Rebekah, Jennifer, Mary... the list goes on. I love these women; I want them to see Jesus. But the battles are hard and sometimes it's worse to even begin the war. If I complain to a doctor about something or ask a question, he very well might torture my friend. They get punished for any ill feelings towards me.

When you start to care about people, their hurts become your hurts. It's not business here, it's personal.

My friend Rachel from Masese along with Kasfa

My friend's do not have voices here. It's believed that women are to be used, in every aspect of that word. They have no rights to stand up for themselves whether it be in the hospital with a corrupt doctor or with a man demanding the use of her body.

My heart breaks for these women.

I know that God sees and He knows. I know that God loves these women more than I do. I know there's nothing that I can do to charge this culture...but I can start. It takes more than one person to change traditions and society, but it takes one to start.

Kasfa, ran away from home, sad story, please pray!

Would you pray?

• God would give me wisdom where to fight in a godly manner and where to walk away
• God would give my friends freedom from their bondage the culture places on them
• God would teach me to be humble in a foreign land in regards to right and wrong
• God would give me and my friends a biblical worldview instead of America/Ugandan
• God would give me patience and love for these people, even the ones I don't like!

Tidbits and Tales

"What's the first animal you think of from Uganda?"

"Mosquitos!"

The name of our team for pictionary given on impulse by a 13 year old Ugandan that I adore!

I figured it's about time for a different look at my life here. This week was filled with it's share of hardship -- as any other week -- but a good amount of laughter as well. I think you should see this side too!

It's ridiculously warm here, so swimming is nice!

I went swimming at a local pool this week and my hair turned green. My friends in Masese said I look like I'm ready to party, but I felt much more like Anne Shirley. Sigh.

As we were meeting for Bible study in Masese, one of the girls pointed at my neck and exclaimed, "Auntie Kate! You have ringworm!" The conversation continued and they compared it to another woman that has ringworm. I was rather confused as to what they were talking about until Irene moved my tank to find it continued on the side. That pool day also brought a nice sunburn (sorry mom, I forgot sunscreen!) that caused my skin to peel. Apparently ringworm and peeling look the same -- good to note!

Trying to get in the Christmas spirit! 

When they were teaching me how to plait hair last week they kept telling me to pull harder, so one of the girls demonstrated on me. To her surprise, my hair came with her yank. "Auntie Kate! We need to bring you to the clinic!" When I showed them that I could pull out single strands without any pain, they were astonished and wanted to see it again, and again....and again.

"Auntie Kate! You have a disease!" Are you starting to see a trend here? This was said by another friend in Masese who was looking at my face. When I asked what my symptoms were she said, "You have brown spots all over your face!" Ohhhh how I've always hated my freckles.

Eating peanut butter cookies with a Christmas movie!

Today I got caught in Masese in a rain storm so we sat in Chio's room with Naduk for two hours sorting rubbish out of the nuts. Naduk hardly speaks any English and Chio knows a bit, but we spent a good amount of it pointing to objects and repeating, then laughing at the pronunciation. I once sang the word "akidadok" to a little tune and it's now one of our favorite things to do together. The word means...frog.

Naduk and I love to laugh!

During this time Naduk pointed on the ground at a cockroach and said, "Auntie Kate! You know!" I gladly shouted, "abebe!" as Chio grabbed it and threw it out of the door. Some minutes later it returned and she threw it out again. This cycled for a few more times as Naduk and I kept laughing and she said, "Abebe love Chio. Chio no love abebe." Language barriers fall in the presence of laughter!

 I love little times like these when I'm a friend. I don't have all the answers, I'm not big and powerful, and the label "missionary" scares me. But I do have Jesus living inside of me and by the grace of God, I'm being changed more like Him daily. While I do love being able to share in Bible studies, I also love letting them see the broken sinner that I am that is daily in need of forgiveness. I love being able to be their friend.

Too Small?

I see Hannah and Jay Jore sitting on the top of their car with a chicken.

I live in Africa.

Homemade fresh pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving!

I hear goats. Lots and lots of goats. (Yes, I think of Taylor Swift's song "I Knew You Were Trouble" everyday!) And turkeys that wake me up in the morning.

I live in Africa.

I taste chapatti, cassava, rolex, beans, rice, posho, sweet potatoes, eggplant, pumpkin.

I live in Africa.

I feel dirty everywhere. No matter how many times a day I wash my feet, I'm always red with dirt.

Susan, she loves to laugh! 

I live in Africa.

I smell the sweet flowers in town and the brewing alcohol in Masese.

I live in Africa.

I see two men holding hands while walking down the road as a sign of friendship.

I live in Africa.

Do you ever feel like you're not making a difference? And even when you hold to a certain belief about ministry, when someone comes and questions it, do you lie awake at night wondering if they were right? I would answer yes to both of those questions. My ministry here is small -- it's based on building relationships and prayer. However, when people ask me what I do here and then sneer at my heart for discipleship, I'm discouraged.

Mama Kate makes necklaces that I sell!

Lots of necklaces!

This was a strange week for me -- I didn't have my translator Irene at Bible study on Wednesday, so I stumbled through "Buli munto awulira ebigambo byange ebyo, n'amala abikola, kyaliva afaananyizibwa n'omosajja ow'amagezi enkuba n'etnnya, mukoka n'akukuta, kibuyaga n'akunta, ne bikuba enju eyo; so n'etegwa; kubanga yazimbibwa ku lwazi..." (Matthew 7:24-29) I can read Luganda fairly well, which the locals usually cannot, but I'm pretty useless after that. I read these verses and we struggled through the little English they know and the even smaller amount of Luganda that I can speak until finally we just prayed.

However, it's in the moments when we're struggling through the language barrier and living life next to each other that means the most to me. It's days when I spend the whole morning in Masese, not leading a Bible study, but drinking tea, braiding hair, and having meaningful conversations with my friends that I love the most.

Apparently devils glow, because I "wanted to look like a devil" today!

Is what I do here too small?

We're silly a lot of the time!

I ask that question a lot. But I know the answer to that question. The more important question is whether or not I'm okay with people thinking the answer is yes, and still continuing with discipleship.

After all, that's what Jesus did.

I never want to belittle the ministry that is based on relationships and patience and love.

Please pray that God would continue to use me, even when I'm prideful and want a big name with a big ministry.

I serve a Big God. Let that be enough.

This was a funny sight to many in Masese

Recapping and Redirecting

"The Lord saw her"

Nalight -- her left ear is rotting away 

Such simple words. Jesus saw a widow who lost her only son; a statement of fact. But those words have touched me this week. He saw Peter, James, and John. He saw Levi, the tax collector. Amongst the hustle and bustle of the crowds, fishermen, and a million other needs, Jesus saw them.

Today marks six months for me! I'm celebrating by eating M&M cookies -- you have no idea how excited we get about American food! I thought I'd share a few things that I've learned so far:


God: He knows. Sometimes I struggle with the poverty and illnesses that run rampant through this country. But God knows, He cares, and He loves these people more than I do.

Pasweeda has jaundice like I've never seen before 

Missions: It's not about coming to save the world, because Jesus already did. It's not about solving all the problems, but teaching the locals sustainability. Throwing kids in orphanages is not always the best answer. There are situations where they are needed, but many times they end up hurting the community instead and giving parents or relatives "freedom" from responsibilities. The idea of the mzungu as the savior has penetrated into many of the minds here.

Lillian enjoying some tea under the tree

Myself: I heard a woman say this week, "I'm so excited to come to Africa where I can make a different and such a huge impact in just a few minutes." She was excited and just off the plane, and I'm sure my thoughts were similar in May. However, I've found that I don't talk as much, listen more, and grow more myself as I am the one who is impacted by these people. I never want to act like the one with all the answers, because I don't have them.





Thankfully, there is still so much for me to learn. These lists are not finished. I'm constantly learning more about God, ministry, and myself. I never want to pretend like I've got it figured out.

Probably my favorite picture ever. Rebekah being herself!

Ambassador Institute got a boda!

The past few weeks I've been praying for Jesus vision -- I want to see like Jesus does. I see men, women, and children that are just starving for love. I've learned to go slower, just sit with women and take tea, even if they're speaking in Karamajong and one of the only words I remember is "abebe" (pronounced ahh-bay-bay!)...which means cockroach. Really, I don't normally talk about cockroaches on a regular basis! I've learned not to be annoyed when the children attack me as I'm on a mission to go somewhere, but to yell "duuka!!" (run!) and collapse on the ground with 20 children in laughter when we reach the jackfruit tree.

Silas is so big now!!

Life isn't always glamorous. I've had mango worms twice and just got my first jigger this week -- if you want a nice Google search, try those! I get peed on regularly, especially in Masese, sometimes multiple times a day. I have guys harass me daily, something I'm not too fond of. But at the end of the day, it's just life. These small annoyances do not shadow over the joy and peace that the Lord has given me here. Each day, each moment, is filled with the love of God.

There are days when I deal with a little girl who's ear is rotting with gaping wounds and a 16 year old that was drunk and killed her 2 month old baby. There are days when everyone is sick and poor and starving and I'm drained. There are days when my friends in Bible study answer all the questions correctly, but still say they are not "born-again" because that life is too hard for them. There are days when I cry out to God to the point of tears. But even on those days, God is not far. God still loves. And for that reason, I will continue to love Him and love those around me.

Lucy and I love to make faces at each other

             My life is saturated in His love.

Another bag full still to go...gotta love gifts here!

Ramsey wasn't so sure about the swings

Spilled Milk

It's days when I boil the milk over for the second time this week when I want to sit down and cry.

When a long day was preceded with a long week with long hours of waiting. Sometimes I feel like that's all I do here. I wait at the clinic for the OB doctor to come in for three hours, only for him not to show and a dozen women are told to return the next day in hopes of catching him then. I wait for hours to see if my friend's baby has malaria, which should only take 20 minutes. I wait for the power to come back on so we can make tea for the women. I wait for the rain to stop so I can see where I'm walking.

I wait for my friends to see Jesus.

You know that page in Dr. Seuss' book Oh The Places You'll Go! ? The waiting place.

Waiting for a train to go

or a bus to come, or a plane to go

or the mail to come, or the rain to go

or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow

or waiting around for a Yes or a No

or waiting for their hair to grow.

Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite

or waiting for wind to fly a kite

or waiting around for Friday night

or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake

or a pot to boil, or a Better Break

or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants

or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.

Everyone is just waiting

As I mull over these thoughts I realize that God is waiting. He wants my friends to know Him more than I do. He cares for these people: the beautiful women, the dear children, the fathers who have never had a father, and is waiting for them to return to Him.

“God desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” – 1 Tim 2:4

Brenda wants to go back to school but her class fees would be 300,000/ – $125. Sandra is 8 months pregnant and was tested and has malaria but the doctors only gave her Panadol – equivalent to Advil. Esther has a placental abruption but refuses to go on bed rest and is in danger of losing her baby -- but she doesn't even want the baby. 

“Seek the LORD and live” - Amos 5:6

I'm thankful for fresh pineapples and canning pickles with the Jores and drinking sweet warm milk before bed. I'm thankful for chilly days when the wind blows so strong that the leaves whistle through the yard and Jay exclaims, “MOM! IT'S FALL!” even though it's probably still between 65-70°. I'm thankful that I have life, and so many of my friends here are finding true life in Him as well. 

I'm thankful God is opening my eyes to more of His love for me and the rest of the world “slowly by slowly” (another common phrase here).

In the midst of the waiting, life does not stand still. We live, laugh, love, and seek God. And He's here.

I've found that I am so very thankful that we serve a God who waits as well.

Ramblings of a Ragamuffin

I got a package from my parents that included Velveeta, Queso dip, and even Kraft single slice cheese! We don't have good cheese here, so you can assume my high levels of excitement. If ever you want to shower love on me for no reason, I'd prefer it to be in cheese. :)

Betu loves flowers too!

We've “shifted” – the Ugandan term for moving – to our new place and have settled in quite comfortably. If you know me at all, you could probably recall how much I hate change. I was talking with Sarah on the day I moved and started tearing up, and she thought I was crazy that I didn't cry when I moved to AFRICA but I will cry when I move two streets down. I know, I am ridiculous. But God is good, the house is amazing (I have bay windows and a balcony over the lake...yeah...) and the couple that own the house – Peter and Val from Australia – are just great! I truly hate change, but God is still faithful. He even gave me a rainbow this week as a reminder. Our God is good!

Meet baby Kate! Born November 2nd

My friend Sarah just gave birth to a healthy baby girl on Saturday night – Courtney's birthday! She was named after me; what an honor. I truly love the Karamajong women. And I love having three small babes in Masese now to visit and hold and love all day. I love that even though Masese is known amongst my friends there as "a place of problems", God is working. People are starving, sick, hurting, dying every day there, but God knows. And He's not silent or choosing to ignore the problems of His people. I told Sarah last week that I felt like I needed to be superwoman to go to Masese, and she smiled and said, "No Kate, God already saved them. Just tell them about Him." I don't need to save the world, God already did.

That's right. I did that. 

My friend Maureen from Masese loves to look at the picture that I have of me and my grandma on my phone. She said, "I like to see your jaja (grandma)", so I told her that I hope she gets to meet her someday. Her answer was, "Ah no. I'm not like you. I don't know I'm going to heaven. I know I'm a sinner." Please pray that she would find the assurance of salvation and faith in Him, and rest and joy in Christ. Pray that she would know that she has a Savior. Pray that God gives me His words for her. Maureen is one of my closest friends in Masese. 

I wake up at 5:30 every morning with the sunrise streaming in through my windows. Brilliant pinks and golds shimmer across the water and wake me with such gentleness that far surpasses that of an alarm clock. It's completely worth it to wake at such an hour to see His beauty displayed over the shining water. 

I love prayer. I know this may sound strange, but in the quietness that this month has already provided, I've come to appreciate intercessory prayer more than ever. Mom, dad, Grandma Buschette, Grandpa Swartz, Jason and Esther, NoahGraceJamesMilo, Kari and Nick, Krista and Zach, Erik, Pastor Franz, Pastor Steve, Courtney, Lydia, Zach, Angie, Austin, Logan, Kyle, Steph, Jo, Bekah...only to name a few! I find it such an honor that even me, in Africa, can lift up my friends and family so many thousands of miles away to the Lord of Heaven and Earth. Wow. Please know that I have not forgotten America or my loved ones there.

My friends think it's funny that I like chicks

I love that while I'm such a failure and often would prefer just to sip tea and read a book instead of getting dirt on my feet and struggling through the language barrier, God still chooses to love me. I love that I don't have to muster up enough love for these people, but can run to my Jesus to be filled and allow Him to pour out over me into the lives of my friends here. I love that while I was still sinning, Christ died for me. I love that I have assurance of salvation and hope and love and joy. I love that I'm still learning what it means to be a disciple myself. I love that God's not done with me. 

Alice, a sweet woman in Masese

Tears in Masese

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

I think these are the scariest words for a prayer. Personally, I like my trust to have borders and to walk upon the solid ground. But I've found that when I'm at the end of myself, that's where I find God. That's when I find that His strength is perfect and enough. My faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior. This prayer comes from a song called Oceans (Where Feet May Fail) by Hillsong, and another line reads, “You've never failed and You won't start now”. I need to be reminded of that. Daily.

Silas is one month!

Somedays I am frustrated. I want things to make sense and for my emotions to settle and the future to be clear. I want my friends here to grasp the power of the Gospel in their own lives. I want to learn to trust Him.

While I'm cutting off of social media shortly, I was advised not to stop blogging – so I'm not leaving!

Laundry day

I love Masese, I'm not sure if you can sense a trend in my posts as of late, but it's true. Upon arrival today there was unrest (which is usual there) as Lillian was in tears, Irene was silently scrubbing the clothes, and another woman was shouting in Karamajong. While I had intended on continuing my way through the book of John, I suddenly felt the Spirit's leading to speak about anger. The Karamajong are tough people. We looked at Matthew and Luke's account of Jesus' words in the Sermon on the Mount and I challenged them to be serious. We talked about how this is hard, and to be honest, impossible. We agreed that God needed to be the One working this love in our heart, because it's certainly not there by nature. We sang songs in Karamajong, prayed, and they all went their separate ways.

Irene's daughter, Justine

I sat and cried for these women.

Lillian – one I've been seeing budding faith in for a few weeks – returned and asked to pray with me. She was in a hard place with the woman mentioned that was yelling, as this woman was involving the police on matters that were (hopefully) based on lies. She cried as she asked God to forgive her for her hatred of this woman. She asked Him to teach her how to love this woman so that she would know Jesus too. She pleaded that if her name was written in the book of death that He would erase it and move it to the Book of Life. She confessed that she has lived in sin and remained there, but claimed the promise that Jesus took her sins on the cross. She prayed that God would keep her in His hands, because “that's the only place I'm safe and have peace with the Lord.” Needless to say, I cried too.

Vicky! 

This woman is 17 and 6 months pregnant. Irene said she grew up with CRO (Child Restoration Organization) and they drill the children in the Bible, so she knows the “Sunday School answers”, if you will. However, up to a few weeks back she had been returning home drunk each night. Irene saw a change in her and started to inquire, and Lillian said she wanted to belong to God, but didn't know how. The only thing she knew was to get rid of the alcohol – a sign to the culture of someone who is not born-again. I asked Irene if she thought Lillian was serious, and with tears in her eyes she said, “Yes, Auntie Kate. Yes. Today Lillian got a new heart.”

Overwhelmed, I cried once more.

I'm so exceedingly blessed to be a part of the work God is doing in Masese. He loves these women so much and has given me such a small portion of His ever abundant love for them as well. I'm so thankful that I get to walk with these women – it's not about converting one and moving on to the next one. I have the privilege of walking with Lillian now as well. She asked if we could take tea together soon! And by walking together I mean that I would also be learning. Her words about being safe and having peace in the hands of the Lord humbled me. 

I want to be there too.

My namesake, Kate, refused to smile

As this new month begins, I will be honest, I'm frightened. I rely so heavily on communication with friends and family. I love to be able to escape to America: either with having people remind me they're praying and that I'm not forgotten, or just having a fun distraction and feeling normal again. So I'm choosing to trust God in this season. He is enough for me and has a purpose for this time. My faith, weak and doubting, will be forced to be made stronger in the presence of my Savior.

In His hands,

Kate

About to bathe my first babe!

Their attempts not to let my things get dirty! 

Hiding

“Mzungu cannot be friends with African.”

These words hurt.

I was weaving my way to Irene's house last week and approached by a man who asked what I was doing. When I told him that I was visiting my friends that stayed there, he was shocked and said, “No bzungu live in Masese!” I corrected him that my friends were Ugandan, specifically, Karamajong. He started to smile and said, “Ohhh, but mzungu cannot be friends with African. What do you bring them?”

A little discouraged at this point, I said, “I don't bring them anything. We talk and laugh and hang out and read from the Bible together.” He could not understand this. Once again he informed me that mzungu cannot be real friends with Africans.

But they are my friends.

Rebekah doesn't like fish but loves butterflies.

Irene loves the rain and hates mushrooms. Just like me!

Maureen wants to be a hair stylist someday.

Esther wants her baby Silas to grow to be a strong man of God, like Silas in the book of Acts.

Lillian wants to get married just as badly as I do!

For a long time I saw these women as “my women”, a sort of project that I was working on. Over the last week my mindset has completely changed. These are my friends. I've gotten to know them, I've laughed with them. I've cried with them for the things that hurt them, and they've cried with me when my grandma passed. I hold their babies and sit with them in silence when the big rain drowns out all sound under the tin roofs. I love my friends here.

They make me laugh! This week Irene looked at me with my hair still wet from my shower and said, "Why does your hair look like goat intestines today?" I laughed out loud at that one! A few minutes later she asked, "Auntie Kate, do chickens urinate?" Such innocence and joy they bring me!

I have been torn as of late though. I so badly want to be in America with friends and family. So I'm doing something that is exceedingly hard for me – I'm going offline for the month of November. I really love being able to connect with so many of you on a daily basis, but I don't think it's healthy for me. Lately my waking and sleeping thoughts have been in America, which means I'm not fully here. I love what I do here, but I'm distracted right now. So, as hard as it is, I'm removing the distraction.

“Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God.” – Jim Elliot

While I have loved being able to be a part of life in America, sometimes I envy those missionaries in previous generations that had little to no commutation with home. It's hard to be torn. My absence does not imply that I do not care about all of you back home, but it is merely to love the people here more effectively, and to rely on God even more. It's easy for me to run to my comforts when I'm sad or discouraged, but I need God. Learning to trust Him in the midst of pain, sadness, change, and the disheartening mundane times as well has been something I avoid. I run to everything and everyone else.

I want to learn to run to Him.

Please pray:

• This would be a time of refreshment and renewed passion for the people of Uganda
• That I would learn to rely on God for my peace, love, guidance, and joy
• That God would prove Himself as the Comforter when my other strongholds are stripped away

This is little Grace

Life will continue here though. I now have two Bible studies in Masese, one with the women from Buzika in town as well as house visits in their village, and trips out to the island on Saturday. I'll still sit with Sandra and listen as she tells of her fear of delivery and I'll teach in the primary schools about what abortion really is. But maybe, just maybe, I will learn to be quiet.

Lemon pie for my birthday! 

To God be the glory,
Kate

Grace and her mom, Mary and I listening to the teaching

Deep Breath. I'm okay.

This week has been hard. Many tears with a few laughs in between. But life has continued. The grace of God has not run dry. I watched Anne of Green Gables, sobbed profusely when Matthew died, and waltzed around the living room when no one was home with my imaginary Gilbert. Yes, I may be 12 at heart, but it's these small things that keep me sane. I don't lose myself. One of the biggest prayer requests that my dear friend, Bekah Moore, had when she moved to Nepal almost 2 years ago was that she would not lose her personality. I need to just be Kate sometimes. And sometimes that means living in Avonlea with Anne, Di, Gil, and all my other friends!

Wednesday was my first attempt at returning to normal life here. It was hard. I cried to my friends from Nyenga and they were scared out of their mind. They confessed to never having seen a mzungu cry. I don't think they expected me to turn pink! That evening my friend Mary with baby Promise came to the office. Promise was sick and not doing well, and Mary was terrified. She sat with her face in my lap as I held her and she cried. I tried the usual with God is able to heal her, but she backfired it to me, “But God didn't heal your grandma. Why not?”

Promise

We sat there together and cried. I sang “It is Well With my Soul” (funny that this was the processional hymn at my grandma's funeral) and sat with tears for a long time. To be honest, her question made me mad at God.

Then it hit me that God did heal her. Completely. She had poor eye sight for the last few years, and while I didn't see it these last month, she was in pain. God healed her completely. The location of her healing was different than I had desired, but He did heal.

Victoria Nile Primary

My grandma's funeral was on Thursday morning (evening for me) and I was incredibly blessed to be a part of it via Skype. Technology will never cease to amaze me! I got to see all of my family, attend the service, and talk with my loving sister Kari for 2 hours total. It was perfect. I needed it.

We sang “Step by Step”, my grandma's favorite song. As it is rather contemporary for my grandma, my Auntie Cheryl explained about how she would always say, “day by day” in walking with the Lord. But grandma would correct her with, “step by step”. Even in the hospital they would sing that song, and grandma would continue to walk with Him step by step. I want that faith. I have such a beautiful legacy in my grandma.

I love being in the classrooms!

Things are slowly getting back to “normal” here, not that normal is ever a thing of reality in Uganda. Change is inevitable, every day. But I've played with the Jore kids, lost at a game of Settlers of Catan, ate homemade ice cream, played ring-around-the-rosy on the island, and taught at a few primary schools about pregnancies and abortions. I've laughed, sung, danced, ate good food, and read Jane Eyre.

I love these people. I love them because God loves them. And God loves them more than I love them. It's good to remind myself of that. Step by step, every day in every moment, following Him.

The last I've heard, Promise is doing okay. Prayer for her would be appreciated!

Monkeys!

Is this normal?

Pray:

• Finances
• Housing situation
• Love, joy, and PEACE!

Spent, Tired, Worn

For years I've prayed that my grandma would live to meet my first daughter. I've wanted to name my first daughter Abigail for as long as I can remember. I decided a few years ago that I wanted her middle name to be Alethea -- meaning truth. My grandma's name is Edith Alethea, so I told her that I wanted her to meet this little girl. She told me to hurry up. :)

For months I've prayed that my grandma would live to meet me when I return to America next year. I spent a day with her in April where we went out to eat in the tiny cafe in Mayville, ND, looked through old photos and gave me a dish set that she got for her wedding. She told stories and I laughed so hard! My grandma was funny and feisty -- not your normal grandma by any means.

For weeks I've prayed that my grandma would not be in pain. She had a heart attack and then her kidneys began to fail. On October 11th, God answered that prayer in a way that was contrary to my liking. He brought her Home, where there is no more pain.

My last time with Grandma, April 11th 

A few weeks ago I posted about being "Filled". Last Sunday (October 6th), I hit a wall. My grandma wasn't doing well, my birthday was approaching (birthdays are a big deal to my family and friends!), and I felt like my ministry was of no value. I struggled all week, with journal entries including, "I feel like I should have been able to get over this wall by now, but I'm just stuck. I have no passion." and "Everything is gone. My motivation, my love, my desire to even be in Africa. What's wrong with me?" I knew I needed to retreat to a quiet place to meet with God away from everything, so a dear friend advised me to go to a place called Mto Moyoni. With my bags all packed and ready to leave the next morning, I awoke to find that my grandma had passed while I was sleeping. Needless to say, I needed to escape.

The song "Worn" has been playing through my mind this weekend.

For real -- the view from my porch! 

I arrived at a beautiful place right on the Nile and started by reading a book entitled Failure is Not Final. This woman was a missionary building relationships and one day just had it. She lost her passion and went into a dark depression, where in her own words, she was "spent". I related to her so much. I loved what I was doing, but it suddenly became very trivial. It didn't help that other mzungu would hear that my name was Kate and I live in Jinja and they would exclaim, "You're the real Katie?!" I knew they were talking of Katie Davis. No, I'm Kate who only really invests in a few women. I wanted something bigger.

My dear friend, Anna, brought me flowers! 

The view from my hammock

It was in that quiet that I realized that I didn't need a bigger ministry. I needed a bigger view of God. I have a passion for discipleship, but somewhere I lost that passion.

While I had escaped all the business of ministry and everything Jinja has to keep me occupied, my mind was still not quiet. I went from reading Failure is Not Final (yes, I finished it that day) to reading my Bible, writing letters, writing in my journal, and reading Jane Eyre. I was still busy. It wasn't until Sunday afternoon that I realized that I had come to escape from the business, but I brought it with me. I put away my books and set down my pen, and was just quiet.

My favorite place on the hammock hanging over the river

My friend Zach Jaszczak always told me that sometimes it's okay just to be quiet. I always fight this because quiet is not something I'm good at. I like to be busy.

I told God all of my passions and desires right now. A few of them were "I want my grandma back", or "I want to be in America right now". Suddenly it hit me that God knew what I wanted, but He also knew what I needed. And for some reason, He knew I needed to be right here. He has good for me, and enough grace and mercy to get me through this dark season.

Milo David, born August 22

I don't know why God answered with "no" to my first two prayer requests regarding my grandma -- I probably never will. I know my grandma is in heaven with her Jesus and her husband again, but I'm still mourning. Exactly 6 months, to the day, that I saw her, she left to be with Jesus. I'll see her again someday.

So where am I now? I'm back in Jinja with a few days off before I jump back into ministry. I don't quite have the same passion, but a deeper sense of the fact that God is with me. He knows my hurt and feels my pain. I'm in Uganda. My heart is torn and wants to be in America, but He knows that I'm here right now. I want to be with my newest nephew that I haven't met yet, to be with my family as they remember all of grandma's funny stories, and be there for her funeral.

Thank you for your prayers during this time.




Pray:

• That I would find peace and joy knowing that my grandma is Home
• That I would find my strength in Him to continue to love these people
• That I would find passion in my ministry again
• For my family as they have the memorial services this week