A Day in Uganda

I have arrived safe and sound! The plane ride to Uganda was very long. After traveling to Houston, Newark, Brussels, and Kigali, Rwanda I am finally here. I made it with all my bags and a warm family to welcome me. It was almost surreal for the first 24 hours because I couldn't believe I was finally here. However, hugs from seven sets of little arms quickly made my new temporary home a reality. On my first night I awoke to the sound of birds and monkeys outside my room, and a mosquito net over my head. Everyone has been wonderful and I have loved getting to know the family members I did not know yet. For those of you who don't know I am staying with Kenneth and Kristi Williams and their seven, yes count them seven, children. Their names are Nevaeh, Rikot (pronounced: ree coat), Ezra, Zion, Israel, Selah, and Achuka (sounds likes it spelled).  It has been wonderful traveling through Uganda for the past two days. We are traveling because the airport where Camille (other girl visiting) is in Entebbe, but the village we will live in called Kacheri is over 300 miles from there. The family needed to pick up some supplies down South in the bigger cities so we are traveling through the lower region before going to Kacheri. Right now I am in Jinja (where Katie Davis lives, if you don't know her look her up, she's awesome) and we are staying at Arise Africa, a Christian guesthouse.  I am looking forward to getting to the village, getting unpacked, and starting a routine. It will be different than any routine I've had before, but I'm kind of looking forward to that too.  I brought presents for the kids, and we cannot open them until we get to the village, but they are chomping at the bit to get into that suitcase. I have enjoyed getting reacquainted with the Williams, and it has been so much fun traveling through the cities. The sights and sounds make me feel like an alien on a brand new world, but I can't wait to get to see and know more. Rikot is one of Kenneth and Kristi's adopted children, and I think she has taken a shine to me. I hope to post more soon.

How I Met Your Mother

My favorite show past, present, and future is definitely one of the very best shows I have ever seen. It is a treat at the end of a long day, and it feels like we've been friends for years. This is my tribute to you. I made a collage out of my dvd jackets. You guys rock! (retweet please) :)

One Thing You Should Know

So here’s one thing you should know.  Not everyone in life is going to like you, and I don’t mean little Jimmy in the 3^rd grade who teased that you had cooties.  I mean normal, everyday people that you may like very much might get angry one day and choose not to give you a chance.  Some may disappear and if you’re lucky that will be your favorite.  But if you are anything like me you’ll need closure.  It’s tough, but deep down it is important.  One day you are going to make a mistake and someone you care about isn’t going to be able to forgive you or your  boss is going to try to change you, and when you don’t budge because you know who you are they will try to justify their anger.  The easiest way to do that?  Blame you.  A lot.

They will tell you that maybe you’re too negative, harsh, unforgiving, angry, proud, childish, or maybe they just can’t stand to be around you anymore.  But when that happens I want you to take a moment, close your eyes and breathe.  Remember one moment, just one moment when someone appreciated you, even if that someone is simply yourself and smile.  Something made them hate, maybe it was your fault, maybe not, but you are not evil, you are loved and this?  In the grand scheme of life is nothing.  What counts is that no matter what, you live with integrity even when taking your lumps.  Know when it’s time to apologize and when it’s time to walk away.  It’s just like my roommate from college used to say: Not every subtraction is a loss.

Crossing the Yellow Lines

Just the beginning of a story. I won't have time to really work on it till this summer though.

The cricket chirped quietly in the early morning dew.  Clay leaned down slowly trying to get as close as possible.  The cricket chirped and chirped his heart out ignoring the giant slowly growing closer to his fragile seat on a small leaf.  Clay was fascinated with the sight before him, the crisp early morning air nipped at his nose and made his ears tingle, but Clay liked the cold.  He liked to watch the world slow to a stillness in the chill that froze the very air around him.  The cricket suddenly aware of his audience leaped from his perch and disappeared into the tall grass along the busy street where Clay lived. 

He rose from the ground looking for something new to occupy the time before the school bus arrived.  Clay and his family lived in a small town in rural Mississippi and that suited Clay just fine.  Clay was a boy’s boy, rough and tumble, always up for doing something in the forest or the ‘woods’ as Clay more fondly referred to them.  As he surveyed his street he suddenly realized someone was watching him.  There was a young black boy standing across the street two houses down from Clay and he was looking at him.  The house had been for sale the whole summer and Clay had noticed some moving vans in front of the house last week but this was the first time he’d seen who lived there.  He couldn’t believe his eyes. 

The boy looked about the same age as Clay but he was different.  He wore different clothes, the shapes and fit were different and if this was the first day of school where were his new school clothes?  Clay was uncertain what to do next.  The boy was just staring at him, and Clay began to feel beads of sweat leaping onto his forehead threatening to roll down his nose.  He leaned down again, and pretended to tie his shoes.  Both of them.  Twice.

Suddenly Clay was rescued by the roar of the school bus engine coming to a begrudging stop in front of his house.  He bolted across the street and through the doors with lightening speed.  Still Clay was not quick enough to avoid his grandma leaning out the door to wish him a fond goodbye. 

“Bye Clayborne! Have a wonderful day at school,” his grandma bellowed into the early morning air.  Clay blushed as he through a hand up in response and bolted onto the bus.

Clay quickly found his annoying friend Luca sitting alone near the back.  Usually Clay liked to avoid Luca when possible because Luca had the tendency to find trouble and sometimes trouble found Luca.  He trudged down the aisle and fell into the seat.

“What is up my man?” Luca screams into Clay’s ear.  Clay tries very hard and succeeds in keeping himself from punching Luca in the throat and proceeds to try to ignore him for the rest of the ride, but before the bus could get very far it stopped again.

Clay tried not to look in the direction of the front and quickly became very interested in Luca’s latest adventure story.  However, he couldn’t help but notice this new kid on his street sat at the front of the bus.  What kid sat at the front by choice?  Clay knew this kid had to be weird.

“Dude, are you listening to me?” Luca screamed into Clay’s ear.

“Yea, dude, you don’t have to scream,” Clay responded.  Clay shoved him roughly and turned to look out the window.

Collaging

a few collages I've done lately

The other side of the desk

            Looking out at her classroom, she paused as she looked at the faces before her.  Their eyes did not carry the weight of the painful years ahead or the mistakes that would haunt them.  The faces before her were clean, bright, and smiling at each other as they joked about things she could not hear and could not know.  She hoped things for their future, but she knew it would not be the things most people expected them to learn in freshman English.  She hoped they would learn to be kind, and to look outside of themselves to the things that matter. She hoped they would learn to be brave enough to fight for the things they are passionate about.  She hoped they would be fearless or maybe foolish enough to be recklessly passionate about helping others find peace and help in a dark world.  She hopes some will lose that hard shell that separates them from what they could be in another person’s life, and that some will never lose such an amazingly sweet spirit.  Looking out at her classroom, she paused and smiled thinking about doing this for years.

After the Rain

Why does the world seem so much clearer after the rain? 

It’s like we’ve momentarily shook off the dust. 

It’s as if we’ve almost caught a better world

By the heel.  Sitting in the gentle moss,

Surrounded by trees that smell like rain I can hear

The drizzling drops peck the leaves and limbs around me

With the pitter patter of calm. 

A cricket begins to sing her song for a captive audience,

Belting it out as if it’s her last chance. 

For a moment the world disappears. 

I wonder how God could make a world so complicated

Still radiate with such a simple beauty. 

In our awkwardly beautiful humanity

It bleeds through the seams every day

In the most complicated pursuits of happiness

Like our job, our money, and our friends

Finally boiling down to the simplest joys like

Family, home, and love. 

I’m not sure if we are ever supposed to feel as if we fit,

To be sure we have a handle on things after all this time. 

Maybe we are just supposed to jump in feet first

And sing our hearts out, no matter the song. 

I once heard that many people will die

With their music still trapped within them. 

I pray God will help us teach each other to hum,

To catch that better world by the heel,

Shake the storm from our shoulders

And sing as if it’s our very last chance.

A Memory To Be

    One day I'll look back at the memories of this house, these days, I'll smile at what I remember was fun or hard.  I'll see this was the moment I realized I didn't know anything, and when my gut made me think my choice was absolute and right I realized every choice was chance and every absolute was merely a guess.  I'll remember this time and place with friends and fights as my lesson that I can't and won't be the hero in everyone's story.  This was the place and moment I began to grow up.

The Anatomy of a Dear

     “Damn, I broke my finger,” she exclaimed.  She grips her hand both firmly and gingerly as she tries to inspect the once working hand now both stiff and aching.

     “Here, let me see,” he said.  He bent over her hand tenderly caressing the disfigured ring finger on the left hand.  “Well I guess that settles it, you won’t ever get married will you?”

      She looks up at him shocked at his blunt accusation.  “Why would you say that?” 

     “No ring I get you will fit over that break; you’ll do anything to keep me from marrying you even if it means breaking the finger that would hold us together.”

To Dance

“Prom, who needs it?” Michael claimed.  Molly looked at him and smiled as she turned her attention back to the tv.  “All we need is Molly Ringwald, you know you guys have more in common than just a name. An eighties marathon is all we need.”

            “Sixteen candles, Pretty in Pink,” Molly said.  She sat there thinking.  “Hey Michael, do you believe in past lives?”

            “Um, Molly, what’s wrong,” Michael said.  He looked at her and watched as a single tear slid down her porcelain cheek.

            “If there is I hope that in some place in time I was brave enough to dance, at least once.”

Creation Myth (written for a class)

How Man Found His Strength

Before the stars found their home among the skies, and before the oceans and lands agreed on their boundaries, the gods filled the heavens. Powerful yet foolish, they spent thousands of years merely reveling in vain beauty, but the king of the gods, Enago, wanted more in the cosmos to rule over than his body. He declared that every god and goddess create a galaxy to bring more glory to the heavens. The universe exploded into action, but two gods struggled to meet the king’s demands: Ulani and Fuzu.

Ulani’s mesmerizing presence struck Fuzu. He chased her across the entire universe trying to set traps among the blooming stars and planets. However, Ulani’s independent nature refused to be caged by his love. She set out into the void searching for an empty galaxy to avoid Fuzu’s relentless pursuit. She mocked his efforts, and a laughing trail of comets went swirling through the heavens, mocking him at every chance. Fuzu begged for Ulani’s love, but nothing worked. Her heart remained unconquered.

Hundreds of years passed and Fuzu’s chase for Ulani continued, but in his haste, Fuzu began destroying the worlds created by other gods. Furious, the other gods tried to destroy Fuzu, and war almost broke out among the heavens. King Enago tired of trying to stop the fighting with demand that Fuzu stop his foolishness, but instead of agreeing, Fuzu pleaded with the king to help him capture Ulani. Fuzu’s heart seethed with bitterness at Ulani’s constant mockery, and he wanted to destroy her. In hopes of creating peace and finally receiving a new galaxy from Fuzu, King Enago agreed to help trap Ulani.

King Enago went to Ulani’s empty galaxy and pricked his finger. A single drop of his blood created a planet without form, and Enago told Fuzu this was where he could trap Ulani. Laying in wait, Fuzu hid in the void waiting for Ulani’s return. As she streamed into the galaxy unaware of Fuzu’s presence, the existence of the formless planet startled her. As she examined the depths of the planet, Fuzu pounced and forced her body down onto the planet’s surface. Her eyes filled with terror, and she screamed out with such force that the galaxy began to spin. Her breath whipped across the surface of the land, the winds screaming to be freed. Fuzu, full of rage, ripped Ulani’s limbs from her body and forced them into the soil. All manner of plant life sprang forth on these new lands. Ulani pleaded for her freedom and cried the rivers into existence. The blood from her body mixed with her tears, becoming the waters of the earth. Ulani’s blood still dances in the waters at sunset. Fuzu ripped out her tongue and set fire to it. He tossed the burning tongue over his shoulder and it rested in the galaxy, creating light for the earth. Her hair and organs became creatures that roamed the world, mute of speech and intelligence. Fuzu’s bitter heart would not stop until he had completely destroyed Ulani’s freedom.

So, he plucked her right eye from its place and formed women to inhabit the world. He created a weak creature with all the cleverness of Ulani. And in true revenge, he tried to strip Ulani’s strength of will from her daughters. Ulani’s heart began to break as Fuzu’s plan took form. Fuzu plucked his left eye from his face and formed mankind to rule over Ulani and her daughters. He made their strength unquestionable, but his sour nature concerning the goddess also transferred into man. Lastly, Fuzu plunged his hand into Ulani and ripped her heart from her chest. Holding the heart above his head in victory, Ulani’s blood fell upon his face and seeped into his eye. With the union of Ulani’s blood, he realized what he had done. He looked on his sons and their mimicking actions inspired horror in him. Fuzu’s sons found their strength intoxicating and bore down hard upon the earth and its daughters.

Crying out, Fuzu raised his hand to strike down his sons, but King Enago shackled Fuzu’s hands, already loving Fuzu’s world. Fuzu realized he would have to watch Ulani’s daughters forever suffer under the wrath of his sons, and Fuzu in his sorrow began to cry with an attempt to flood the earth below. But man survived. After he failed to destroy the strength and cruelty of man, Fuzu ripped his own heart from his chest, and in agony, took up Ulani’s heart once more, burying his and Ulani’s heart in the earth. The hearts transformed into a seedling in a barren land that men had not found yet. 

Fuzu hoped one day that a daughter of Ulani would discover Ulani’s independence and seek the tree of conjoined hearts. If Ulani’s daughter found their tree and cut it down, he knew Enago would not be able to hold Ulani captive anymore and the prison walls of earth would crumble around them. Then Ulani would have her freedom. Now whenever the earth quakes or the seas roar beyond their bounds, men say that it’s Ulani trying to break free from her prison of Fuzu’s earthly grip. Fuzu’s tears still water the earth as his sons destroy the earth created of Ulani and her daughters that inhabit it. When the massive tree of freedom grows into fullness, and a daughter of Ulani treks across the barren land to find it, the chains will be broken and both mother and daughter will be free again.

Home Cookin'

     I cooked today.  It always reminds me of the kitchen where I learned to cook, and the woman who taught me.  It makes me sad sometimes when I cook to know she’s so far away now, but it’s that good kind of sad.  The kind of sad that you are grateful for because it means you had someone to care about and who cares about you.  And for just a moment you can catch a glance of those days in the corner of your eye.  I catch my breath and try to hold on to that warm Colorado sunshine lightly falling through the window; the dust dancing along the air.  I strain to hear the kids who are as close as brothers and sister out in the yard laughing and fighting like we all do as kids.  The dry air was perfect for baking, and I was honored to be there.  I smile as I remember my friends, my family, my home.  

Old Mr. George

          He was an odd man to look at.  I could tell in his prime he could wear a suit and he wore it well while he was in New York trying to make something of himself.  He had been a part of a group of Southern men who felt the need, had an obsession with going north and making something of themselves.  My momma had told me all about it when she explained Mr. George to me.  She said that while a few men stuck it out, worked hard, and made it that he hadn’t been so lucky.  He was determined to have a fairy tale life, and failing wasn’t an option.  What started out as a five year plan turned into twenty before he knew it.  He had failed at job after job and the girl waiting for him back home stopped waiting, and he kept trying.  Mom said that he didn’t stop until he got word that his momma had died and came home for the funeral.  Momma said that she saw him looking out at the Mississippi sunset and though it wasn’t much she said she saw his shoulders slump and his body sigh.  She said that’s when he gave up.

            I saw him now sitting in front of old Ms. Dorothy’s general store, but I never said anything to him.  Momma thinks a failed man is dangerous, says no telling what he’ll do when he has nothing left to live for.  He always made me wonder if I had or would have a fairy tale ending to live for, and made me fear what would happen if I failed like Mr. George.

Love of the Road

I like when people use journey metaphors.  It always makes me picture this long empty road in the middle of the desert leading to the most breathtaking mountains that almost don’t seem real.  I love that picture in my mind, just me and the stereo flying along, top down, wind in my hair, and I smile.  But the one thing that bugs me is that no metaphorical journey is like my mental picture.  Real journeys usually require a lot of walking and the path is never as straight or clear as my road.  And most, unfortunately, real life doesn’t have a soundtrack playing in the background.  Maybe that’s why I like driving so much.  For just an hour or two I can imagine life is easy even when in the back of my mind I can’t forget it’s not.  Maybe a few miles ahead I’ll find answers; maybe just around the bend.

Two Places

This was my first experience away from home for longer than a week or two at a time and when you spend longer than that you are forced to truly adapt to where you are.

You see:
You can pretend for a week even two but when you live somewhere; when you wake up and go to sleep somewhere and it becomes familiar, expected, then you have to become a part of where you are. Now if that place is somewhere positive and accepting then it is an easy transition, but if you are on unfamiliar ground, with unforgiving faces then you try to find a mask that will make the stay bearable, so that maybe they won’t figure out who you really are. They can’t be trusted with that. They may pass judgment over that mask, but because you know you didn’t show them your heart you can hold onto the truth that their critical analysis is a lie. However, in hiding yourself you lose yourself.

But if you can go to a place where love is ever-present, where acceptance is the rule and not the exception then you just might be tempted to put away that mask you’ve been wearing. You might squint from the sun that you can’t remember seeing in so long, and you may smile. The idea is strange to you; the fact that you are loved. You don’t deserve this love, you haven’t earned it and you certainly haven’t been an outstanding person recently. How did this happen? It hits you with just one smile, you are loved completely not because you deserve it, and you know they see you. A knot forms in your throat and tears begin to form in your eyes. What is this? You don’t cry. Still, there’s a chance someone wants to know you, someone loves you, not your mask, you. The walls around your heart begin to crumble; the anger and defenses melt as you are surrounded by laughter and kindness. Every day you are excited to see what the day will bring and when they ask the questions everyone has avoided before you tense up. You hesitate for a moment but then cannot help but answer, because you want them to see you. You want someone in the world to understand your pain. You make yourself look into their eyes looking for pity, but you don’t find it. All you see there is compassion and the tears for your pain. Before you know it you are surrounded by a loving embrace and you are crying too. This is healing you think, it has to be. It must because you’ve never felt more loved, safer and freer than you do at this moment. This is it, spring has come and you will not have to stay in the bonds of winter anymore. When you go somewhere and you are truly loved nothing can stop you from finding who you are, from flying.

Counseling, Who Does It Really Heal?

            “You couldn’t possibly understand!” she screamed.   “No one can!”  Marie looked at the girl in front of her with pain etched across her face.  She saw the tears fighting to escape Sam’s eyes, and how frantically she was trying to stop them.  She saw how desperately the girl was trying to cling to some kind of strength.

            “Yes, Sam, I think I do understand,” Marie whispered.  She leaned forward and locked eyes with Samantha.  “You feel violated, and your parents, religion, society, and even your friends have no idea how to help you make sense of that.  You’ve wandered so far from yourself and the truth you can’t even recognize it anymore.

            “As a girl you were probably raised your entire life to regard sex as something special, sacred, and to be kept under lock and key but within moments it was ripped from your grasp.  Worse, your body may have betrayed you in that moment and felt pleasure, confusing your mind and soul even more.  It made you feel like a whore, and it gave the words, ‘you wanted it and you deserved it’ merit.  You thought to yourself, maybe they’re all right.  Guess what?”

            She looked away, and a single tear slid gingerly down her cheek.  Her raven locks did their best to hide her face from your view.  Her arms braced against her chest for whatever truths or lies you have to tell her.

            “They are wrong.” Marie whispered.  Sam looked up slowly, and Marie gently pushed her hair off of her face.

            “What if they’re not?” Sam said.  Her face was a mass of conflicting emotions.  Sam was angry, terrified, hopeful, and destroyed, but Marie had been there and she knew there was hope.  She smiled at Sam and took her hand.

            “They are and in time we can find that truth together.  Would you like to tell me what happened?” she asked.

            “I got invited to someone’s house for a Sunday barbecue, and even though I wasn’t sure of the guy and his friends I went anyway,” Sam began.  “At first everything was okay, there was a big crowd with food and beer.  I got comfortable, and then I started drinking.”

            She hesitated, and guilt washed across Sam’s face.  Marie gently squeezed her hand encouraging her to go on.  Sam sighed and continued.

            “I didn’t realize how drunk I was getting until I looked up and almost everyone had left.  There was a guy there, and at first I thought he was cute.”

            She hesitated for a moment.  Marie could tell where the rest of the story was going, but she was unsure whether Sam was ready or willing to go to that place again so soon.

            “Everything’s a little fuzzy now,” Sam said.  Marie looked at her and nodded.  She knew that to a degree that was true, but she also knew Sam probably remembered more than she was saying.

            “Whenever you are ready, when you remember we can talk about it,” Marie assured her.  She looked down at the girl in front of her, knowing she was barely holding it together, and knowing there would be many horrible days ahead and a tear slid down her cheek. 

She began to smile though because she knew that eventually the days would become brighter and the memories would hurt a little less.  She knew one day Sam would make some form a peace with that day, and even though it would never be okay it would eventually be alright.  Marie had learned the hard way that sometimes she saw most clearly through the tears in her eyes.