Saturday, September 28, 2013

Voices. Loud Voices.

Everything in the world clamors at us, attempting to get us to listen. Music plays, planting thoughts of romance or of drug addicts. The Bible clamors for attention with comforting words and promises, along with much needed convictions and rebukes. Within 30 seconds of scrolling through Facebook I saw “Blessed is she who believed there would be a fulfillment of what had been spoken to her by the Lord” and another post “Listen to your soul”. Meanwhile TV is trying to tell us that it’s not really so bad to sleep around. Ads on your Facebook make you crazy as they claim to have the miracle pill for weight loss, and you end up losing $100 meanwhile you’re craving the chocolate cake and ice-cream you can get for a few bucks just up the road.
It’s a mad house.
I know I’m not the first to complain about all of the loud noise of America. But here’s what I miss:
The power goes out, as does the internet and water. For tonight, at least, there is nothing you can do. You wear an “ear light”, which is basically a mini flashlight you wear over your ear. So it makes you look like the Borg, but at least you can read a good book. The candlelight flickers on the wall, making the cast iron figures dance in praise.  Before bed you read the Bible, and the deep words speak straight to you. You don’t have anything else to compare it to, so you just let it sink in.
I miss those intimate moments with God. I miss the lack of distraction. I miss knowing that you are utterly powerless.
What I miss the most though is the stars. It’s always the stars. After a rainstorm that knocked out all of the power lines and the pump that brings water to your house the sky is clear. No lights obscure it, no smog fills the sky. Pin-pricks of light entrance you everywhere you look. And in that moment, you realize though you are smaller even than the stars and about as noticeable to God as an ant you were created for a purpose. Maybe it’s to help another ant get over the wall, it doesn’t really matter right now. What matters is that God sent his son to die for you, and you feel the peace and depth of love deeply.

What gets to me most about all of the noise and loud voices surrounding me right now is that it drowns out my own voice. Maybe I would have something to say if I didn't have to use a megaphone. Maybe I would hear and be heard if we could just narrow it down. The worst part, by far, is that everyone else's individual voice is buried. Your pain, your joy, your love, it's all hidden in fake Facebook statuses and 140 word tweets. We become part of a machine. 

The song below sums up how I feel perfectly. I just want some quiet.

My mind is filled today with everything clamoring for attention. I have no peace. Nightmares fill my brain while I’m listening to music, while I’m writing papers, while I’m eating.

God could be screaming some life saving message right now and I wouldn’t hear it. The worst part is that my mind is so busy and so full, I can’t even hear the thoughts I need to sort through these nightmares because they just don’t rank as high as everything else I have to do. The noise traps me in, and signals that I will not escape. What else is there to do other than keep busy? I wish I could say the background noise was all harmless, but it really isn’t.

My honest question is: "Where is the hope? Where is the peace?" Because I'm looking around and I just don't see it. I want to hear God whisper hope into my heart, but it's too noisy to hear a whisper.


Sunday, September 8, 2013

A Hand Shake

One of the elderly members of the church shook my hand today during the Peace. Without thinking, I placed my left hand on my right forearm. Thankfully I stopped just short of greeting him with "Peace, Mzee" as I would greet a white haired man in Uganda.

Flashback.

I would hate to be judged by the girl I was a year ago.

I was shy, socially inept, and very worldly aware yet unable to process all of the information my brain stored. I was immature; too afraid to state my own views. The process of leaving Uganda, which had become my home, left me so emotionally vulnerable that all I could do was think about and miss Uganda. I fell into unhealthy relationships and messed up pretty seriously in a couple of ways. 

Flashforward: second chances.

This year I get to be the girl I was trying to be all of last year. I get to be the one who speaks up in her classes while learning, not because she thinks she knows more about the world than her classmates. I get to have reasoned conversations about various parts of the world, and admit that I don't know things. I get to learn. I get to be a good friend. I get to let my faith lead me, instead of the other way around.

I hope I can be all of these things. No, I know I can, for all things are possible through Christ who gives me strength.

Last year I started the year wanting to bury my head in the sand, not sure of who I was. This year I am starting with my head held high, and I KNOW the following:
I am a beloved daughter of God.
I have purpose and direction.
My past is part of my story. It has a place, but it's not all of it.
I will always be part Ugandan at heart. And I love it.
Home is not nowhere, it is everywhere. I will really be home when I reach Heaven.
I have true friends, and I don't have to work to gain their approval.

I'm grateful today for my true friends. I just chatted with one of them, who commented on how much I've grown up. True friends give you second chances to bloom into who you really are, and they see that bud through all of the crud surrounding it. I'm grateful for the friends who stuck by my side. 

I am a youth leader, and I hope to be a thoroughly nonjudgemental leader who can deal with the youth in a fun and engaging way.

Do I still have room to grow? Yes. Do I need as much help as I can get? Yes. Will I fall flat on my face sometimes? YES! Yes and I will continue to rejoice for I know that through your prayers and the help of the spirit of the Lord Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. (Philipians 1:19).

September 2012


              July 2013