The divorce from simplicity

Life in various parts of the "African Bush" is quite different than life in "The west". I love going to restaurants in the third world and my first question being "Do you have food today?" Or ordering a meal with an item such as...cheese, and about an hour and a half after ordering having the waiter come up to me to explain "Gulu's actually out of cheese." -Gulu? Not even just the restaurant but the entire city. lol (You think they could have noticed that an hour earlier)TIA. So now here I am, just arrived in London (one of my most favouritest of cities) and they are not out of cheese. Oh no, if you want even a slice you'll have to choose from a plethora of 100 different types of cheese. (Oh my goodness, I've been eating "The Real Yorkshire Wensleydale with cranberries" lol Odd but AMAZING) Want a cup of tea? What kind of tea? There are also 100 different types. What would you like in your tea? Small glass, tall glass, red glass, blue glass? (Seriously too much Dr. Seuss in this part of the world :) I am adoring it though. (Speaking of, I now average 7 cups of tea each day. Ya, it's good to be back) My heart seems to LOVE Africa more then any other place but I find I can feel just as at home in big city London as I do in a mud hut in Sudan. If that's possible. AND I've already bought two new pairs of shoes =) =)

Still processing things of course, which is not my favourite part of returning. (Oh the injustices.. lol) BUT I found a song that sums it all up PERFECTLY. =) I don't really know how I stumbled upon it but I think it is crucial for anyone traveling to, living in or coming from the, well, closest thing to what many describe as hell on earth. (But more accurately described as just 'Pre-Kingdom zones' ;)

So, from Exp.58's "Love Revolution" Conference in LA '07...The fabulous Brian and Katie with a little Charles...

Set your TiVo!

A note to all you "24" fans and lovers of popcorn...

We don't get tv in my end of the village ;) BUT apparently this latest season of "24" is about child soldiers in Africa!

For those missing the point, this is amazing because this coming spring I'll be working with GCM in Sudan helping to rehabilitate child soldiers into their villages.

Super readers digest version...
It's quite the issue in almost every war world wide as kids are forced to pick up arms to fight someone else's war. Usually when the babies are taken from the front lines and stripped of their beloved Kalashnikovs they're often sent back home with a small pat on the back and a hopeful "Good luck". With this as only the third year of peace in Southern Sudan not much has been developed to help the kids and the reintegration process is...lacking, taking it's toll on this generation of child fighters. (Rehabilitation nightmare, to say the least ;)

So this is where we will come in. Working with the kids post demobilisation we desire to love 'em back to life. haha In short.

So...24! With that said, I'm also moving back to America. I'm leaving Africa shortly (ya, dates still undetermined, maybe a few days...maybe a few weeks...TIA) where I'll be working with the GCM and Exp.58 team in LA to develop the project and give other people a chance to get involved.

It should be fabulous, to say the least ;)

Sudan In Pictures

It's been months I know but I've finally managed to upload some pictures once again. I realised I haven't really said much about Sudan, I guess because finding the language to describe it is hard for a "blog post". They do say however, "A picture is worth a thousand words" so maybe it's best to just let my camera do the talking. I'd love to upload more but I could travel to America and back by the time the computer would have finished uploading. (eye roll)
So...here it is. Juba SS.



A New Style statement in "New Sudan" as a woman tries to find relief from the heat in the market




If you're caught taking pictures of the SPLA -Sudanese Peoples Liberation Army-, you could...lose your camera to say the least. So sometimes you need to get a little creative with some Bond moves.
Or just make friends with them...


The hot months arrived! To save ourselves from roasting inside, the beds were moved outside to where it's some what cooler

My fiery little kids bringin' the kingdom =)

Some of my fabulous little world changers that make any hard days easier

From the desert to the bushes and a short story inbetween

It seems to be the common topic of emails lately, "Where the heck are you?"
(I know, I often wake up in the middle of the night asking myself the same question ;)
So to solve the most FAQ: I'm in Northern Uganda now.

Somehow the north of Uganda became my haven and feels now like home so it's nice to be back briefly. Work is also never hard to find as I run around teaching classes at a Children's Center or working with a friend I live with and the seven teenage mothers and their babies that share our house. (Which is totally bliss as I am LOVING them to pieces)

One fabulous thing about the Children's Center that I wanted to gush about though, is the latest door that's opened.
So the GCM model is really about empowering and releasing kids to pretty much change the world with Jesus and lately I've been working with this group of kids who are absolutely fabulous. They just catch everything so quickly. As they learn about healing the sick it's sort of a given that we'd go to the hospital to practice what I've preached so I spoke to the staff. They not only said that door would be possible but they brought up a twist. They didn't see just any hospital but they brought up the military hospital, inside the barracks, having the little orphan babies pray for the sick soldiers. Haha. I'm sure many of you can imagine my delight. =)

We entered the barracks and were taken directly to the hospital. An adult on the team meeting us there I think was expecting someone...taller and as he walked directly in front of me I could hear him laugh about "Barracks being no place for women".
I just smiled. And what about the six kids "The woman" brought with her?
(It's totally safe, don't anyone hear the word "soldier" and go into cardiac arrest. Never was I or any of my kids in ANY kind of danger)
We got to the hospital and a guy shared for a while and then I got up to explain that the kids have lots of Jesus in them and that Jesus loves to heal the sick so if they wanted prayer we'd be passing from bed to bed.
Well...It was amazing. lol. I had so much fun, I can't even say. The kids were simply fabulous praying fearlessly for the soldiers and leading them to God's heart. I'm just devastated that cameras were forbidden. =)
My favourite miracle of the day was actually a lady we prayed for. I assume one of the wives of a soldier there. She had a severe case of HIV. Her body was disgustingly thin with what I guess were scabies that COVERED her from head to toe. She seemed depressed, in pain and I couldn't blame her.
With permission we all gathered around her and carefully wrapping our arms around her delicate frame, just loved on the woman as best we could. After praying we asked her how she felt and if she could, oh so carefully, test out things she couldn't do before. Immediately her face seemed lighter as she described ringing and pain in her ears that disappeared! She then started kicking out her legs saying "I could barely do this before and not without severe pain. My pain is now gone!"
She was soooo precious. Whether healed of HIV I don't know but her smile said it all.
We all left the hospital laughing with pure delight at God's undeniable goodness!

So yes. I love Uganda. Sudan is amazing but here compared to Juba is a cake walk and I'm enjoying it thoroughly.
Minus my house I guess. That's not always a breeze. lol. In the last week alone,
Our toilet stopped working,
we had an...unwanted visitor,(haha)
a mouse moved in to my cupboard and will watch me when I'm most vulnerable,
I almost died from a massive spider with hundreds of babies hatching from it's behind when we sprayed it with Doom (bootylicious...not so much ;)
and I got lost in the village as sometimes every hut just looks the same. (I felt like a puppy as I circled some of the same houses and people tryed to convince me to live with them. "It's ok. Come Come. You are welcome to live." ....um...maybe another time thx...)

So, brief life update. Congo border still on the brain, if you can take that hint ;) Kenya next week for TheCall Nairobi which is exciting as the Cali crew is coming and for those who know Nairobi, two words : Java House. =)

It ends well ;)

Sometimes when you witness something that's troubling, instead of processing we can fall victim to the vicious thing we call "self protection". I was told it'd be the only way I’d survive my hop, step and jump through the war zones. (For Kristen;) But with Jesus being my, well, everything, and love knowing "no bounds" I still think self protection isn't really an option. lol So yes, in other words - I cry a lot. ;) But another fabulous thing about Jesus, is with him, the tears always end with hope and smiling uncontrollably.
ANYWAY, I'd numbed my emotions for a little while but,
Last week I saw a little girl get beat. Or "caned". It was awful. It's technically common here but, uh. Just blow after blow. I tried to stop it but by the time I followed the screams and went through the barrier of people / translation it was over. Nauseated I was mocked for my opposition to the "discipline" and defeated I walked away.
Later the little girl (about five years old) was in my room (lol or...house should I say) and I needed to leave, emptying the room behind me. "No" she protested and gripped the chair tighter. Eventually to what I thought was no big deal, she was convinced to let go and follow me out the front door. No sooner than we exited however that she turned and wound up with a clenched fist and proceeded to beat me. Not like a temper tantrum but like "attack". With every hit there was such rage, something so much deeper than me going to the market. Suddenly I remembered her beating earlier and the flood of emotions returned.
Later that night I sat down with one of the ladies and spent hours hashing out theories of discipline and child rearing. (haha I know I'm not a mom but I've listened to Danny Silk's parenting teachings a dozen times)
By the end it felt like breakthrough as she relented that "Options ARE a good thing" and "There is another way other than beatings"
Now as fabulous as that is, yay for two less children being beat, it seems hard to forget the force to which the cane fell the other night on the little girls back. And arms. And head.
From one fight to another my thoughts somehow move to the latest Congo occurrences.
250, 000 refugees in two months, rebels taking over villages and the UN states there are reports of "rapes and acts of violence".
Good job Sherlock.
Slightly worse then a canning.
And so again I make the decision: No self protection.
This isn't just another "African Outbreak". Stats on a page. Would that little girls beating have affected me so had I not heard the thuds of the stick? BUT would it have made it any less real.
It just all makes me step back a little. The stories provoke an "upchuck" reflex of the brutal sexual assaults and children joining the army action cause life is somehow still worse on the civilian side.
The issue is so much deeper than the last two months.
Though...with Jesus it always end with uncontrollable smiling. lol. "Never Again". As horrific as it is, I can't conceal the giggle inside of me. This is our chance to write history. Sure the ball was dropped with Rwanda, Northern Uganda, Sudan...but not Congo, not this time. I'm oozing cheese I know I know but we're called the "Hero Generation" and I think this story ends differently. No complacency. "Evil triumphs when righteous men stay silent" No self protection. No silence. Sidelines are not our only option.
"There is another way other then beatings"

Anyway, it's been on my heart so it comes out in a blog. Guess that's serious post #2 though. Sorry. Try to think of something light to cap off with...A large spider in my shower, that only seemed to come out at night, forced me to bathe outside for a week. Ya, lets just say even in the dark...I still glow. lol.. I think I've solved the mystery to my many Sudanese suitors... ;)

-If this is the first time you've heard of the Congo fighting than you live in a bigger bubble then I do (which is saying a lot) and I suggest you turn on the BBC- ;)

Should mercy and justice be separated?

Mercy and justice were described to me as: “Hundreds of people keep falling from a hill. Mercy takes care of the wounded below while justice runs to the top to stop them from falling above.”

I’ll never forget my trip to Thailand last spring to work with children and the prostitutes caught in the sex trade. I think I bawled for the next month straight totally gripped by the injustice on those girls. I’ll never forget their stories from our brief encounters over a couple diet cokes between their clients. Their faces seem forever etched in my mind.

A different sort of injustice here but it carries the same DNA. A battle of equality. The value of life torn from its foundations and shaken until nobody flinches when say... genocide takes place or every year 4 million people are bought or otherwise treated as slaves or in that same year 1.3 million unborn babies are killed.

So, how do we battle injustice? How do we team it with mercy, and should we be separating the two?

What sparked this (most recently) was a newspaper article I saw stuck to the floor of a pee stained latrine. “Nuba mountains at risk for increased conflict”. I covered my nose and bent over the paper to read more. The column talked about how with attention on Darfur, this region was now the “target” and armies were “beefing up” (lol my words not theirs).
My button was pushed. At first thought I think “Peace is in the Kingdom. Kingdom’s in me. Nuba needs some Kingdom. Let’s head to the Nuba mountains!”
But realistically (for now) I look at history for the “likely future”. War breaks out. People are killed and thousands become IDP’s (Internally Displaced People) or refugees.

Now in mercy, WFP steps up with their bags of maize.
Great. However daily food rations replace farming. War brings development to a halt and disease goes wild in a humanitarian nightmare called IDP camps.
Feeding programs are fabulous and oh so needed. I love them. Mercy, saving lives, but I’m thinking; only if they’re just the foundation.

I look at Uganda and with the horrific war in the north causing over a million people to live in IPD camps where the refugees sometimes described themselves as “prisoners in Hell”. What started as a great way to protect people from abductions is now ending in disaster. Not saying I have the solution or that I think IDP camps were bad. No. BUT is this a case of mercy without justice? Feeding them today but not preparing them for tomorrow? Or even really working hard to ensure they have a tomorrow with rebels still chillin in the bush.

Mercy and Justice.
I see the mercy in setting up schools but I see the lack of justice with school fees making it just out of reach for children coming from poor families.

I see the mercy in giving out medicines but where’s the justice when people die from a lack of knowledge of basic health care.

Signs that read:
“Watch out, malaria kills!” But you can’t afford a bug net.
“Careful, AIDS ruins lives!” Yet you don’t have access to condoms (or education on self control for abstinence ;)

Mercy is great. Honestly, I don’t want to under value it. I’m always giving out a dollar to the beggar or a bread roll to the hungry kids but... should you separate mercy and justice? Why is that child hungry or the beggar clued to his park bench? Perhaps justice is more work, or it costs more. But if it costs more, then does it yield a higher return?

Isaiah 58- “Loose the chains of injustice... AND feed the hungry and clothe the naked”

The two are put together. But for the sake of my bias, when we look for solutions it seems justice often gets the short end of the stick. Why?
Where are the William Wilberforces of our time? Those who chose to take action before the Nuba mountains become the Nuba flat lands. The Davids who bring food to the battle field AND kill the giant.

As Margaret Mead once said “Never doubt that a group of concerned citizens can change the world-indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

So, lol. When changing the world, should mercy and justice be separated? Or is it true, some people are meant to implement mercy while others fight for justice?

I don’t know. I’m just thinking out loud.
I used to be all about mercy but as I’m faced more and more with impossibilities that attract heaven I’m falling more and more in love with justice, to now, my thoughts leave me asking the questions about the marriage between the two.

It’s a huge topic, I know, one that could fill much more then just a little blog post. I’m just gripped with a million different questions and topic issues and the tip of this one just happened to make the blog.
=)

juba to kampala and back again

It was just the other night in Kampala, long after everyone at the Red Chili backpackers place had gone to bed, where I laid outside under a blanket of stars and started to cry. Can I do this? Round two in the bush, no communication, no basic amenities, hot and dirty to say the least. Am I able to stand, really stand, on the promise that Jesus is enough and thrive in a recovering “war zone”? It wasn’t long though ‘til the tears turned to giggles and still with minimal understanding I knew it had nothing to do with me. He’s enough. His love..Enough. Even for Sudan, and even for the one’s who face it’s giants.

-Step back- My parents are leaving the country for a months and so with me being in Sudan unable to phone chat it was looking like we weren’t going to have contact for three months. That’s a lot for a mothers heart who’s “baby” lives overseas. In attempts to change that I was trying to find a way to get out of Juba, bumping up a later trip to Uganda so we could at least have endless conversations for a day or two before they left. Looking into flights all planes were expensive or booked so I weighed my last option, a 12 hour bus ride from Juba – Gulu, Northern Uganda. ( I can hear the gasps from those who know the route. Lol. ) Traveling on a poor excuse for a road, I was recommended by locals that air was the better way to move. However with my parents d-day fast approaching I glanced at Jesus for the green light and got a one liner about protection. SO, I hopped on the early 7 o’clock bus late last week. Now I don’t feel a blog is the best place for…”bus stories” but I’ll just say it was quite the adventure. Lol. At one point we came across a large sign in the middle of the road “STOP! DANGER! Road closed. De-mining in process!” My driver waves to the soldier by the sign, the soldier, clutching his AK-47 under one arm waves back with his free hand and without a wince or probably a second though we proceeded past the sign on to Gulu. Travelling through the south I kept trying to figure whether there were more soldiers patrolling the area or whether there were just more guns, as those often carrying the AK’s weren’t dressed with the same camouflage as most SPLA. The ones dressed up did seem to have more purpose though. Focus maybe. About half a dozen standing on the back of a “pick up” type truck, a couple of them manning a “big shooter” (lol, no idea what it’s called. The large da-da-da-da-da gun bolted to the bottom of the truck?) They seemed like they were ready to shoot at any moment, which is strange considering we live in peace. Guys and guns I guess. Haha ;) (maybe not so funny to some ;)
Anyway, I arrived safe in Gulu and was able to surprise my parents with phone access and the sweet sound of my voice (lol. Who let me get a blog…?)
From there a friend and I took another treacherous yet much safer bus down to Kampala. Uganda’s capital. It was such a delight to laugh and joke together while getting $5 pedicures and eating cakes and curries. She’s fabulous.
Kampala’s luxuries (electricity AND running water) made me realize though just how much I love civilization and really forced me to question whether I could move back to the ‘bush’. Which is good. It’s good to be challenged and to be certain…lol. After a semi difficult ‘yes’ to the great unknown before me the grace kicked in. Oh how we love the grace! I’m now back in Juba with “renewed focus”. (It’s not that I don’t love Sudan it’s just a little difficult at times is all) But as soon as I stepped off the plane ( Yeah I was NOT taking the bus ride back) it was as if everything was beautiful. If we were on a play ground I’d be getting my butt kicked as I was like “That’s fabulous” “What a lovely trash pile!” “Gorgeous latrine!” It was as if all I could see was potential. It was pretty funny. (Sadly that’s now sort of passed as the latrine wreaks, as does the trash pile)
Well I have no clue how to end this. No clue really what it’s purpose was. Just random ramblings perhaps. Perhaps just the nature of most blogs sometimes ;)

lil bit of girl talk

One of the FAQ's from strangers that I meet who hear about my adventures in Africa is about marriage. "You're doing this single?!?". lol. I smile and sort of shrug my shoulders, my answer usually depends on my mood at the moment but all in all the freedom of being single can be bliss. HOWEVER, i'm not looking for anything serious right now, BUT if anyone wants to be a stand in fake bf, i wouldn't turn it down. ;)

The problem started late one night with my house mamma telling me of plans. Tired and sort of spaced I just nodded as she told of ppl "coming around" in the next few days-weeks. Suddenly it dawned. She's only named men and their professions. Whoa! "They're coming cause they just want to be friends right?" She smiles.
We then go into a debate on why she should not try to marry me off in the next few months. I'm pulling everything i've got but in the end it amounts to nothing, and so, the awkward "blind meetings" and persistent suitors began.
I feel I could write a book on bad pick up lines. Including "Sandra... one day...you and I , could be one". lol...Something to look forward to. The men come at all hours announcing their presence with "I have come". (as if there should be trumpets) NOw I don't know if it's "love" that blinds them or if they're just not that bright but they sort of figure anytime is the right time for..."romance".
I could be in bed, middle of the night, early in the morning or sick decked out on the couch, and they could care less. Some speak english some only Arabic. I find them both equally....amusing. Some with poor english will have phrases they've rehearsed to which, no matter your response answer "thank you very much".
Ex:
"Sandra...I wish to travel with you to Canada"
"Sandra...I want to meet your father."
or my fav.
"Sandra...I will follow you today." lol.
Oh but it gets better. Some are sweet and will come with gifts. The smarter ones find out what I like and bring that specifically. But others, they think a little more from the heart and come with song. But not just one, oh no. They come with and entire hymn book. One man, i'm sure a really nice guy, said He wanted to sing for me. I protested and told him I was busy but a woman's words have little value here and he pulls out his book and raises it high. Then from 'Hymn 67' He starts to belt out "I have decided to follow Jesus". Lol. I bite my tongue not to laugh. Harder but it doesn't work. Thinking of sad things, war- famine. Nope.
Hymn 92, 27, 36...Oh my goodness FINE i'll date you if you stop! ( Where's shawn bolz's dating blog when you need it?)
Now I know this may sound rude and these are probably great opportunities to "learn to love" but really, sometimes it's just too much. I've tried your forward, i'm busy plz go, but they answer "I don't mind just watching". I've tried picking up a book or my journal, but they just keep talking. One time I interrupted, shook his hand, thanked him for coming and said i'd see him later and left. Half an hour later I returned to see him still sitting in my house "Sandra, I have waited". Lol. NOOO!!! Hahaha. Dang it, where's my foreign internet lover when I need him?
At first it was funny and I was easily amused, now though, it's gotten old.
I've spoken to my house mamma seriously and I think she's putting a stop to the more persistent ones. But I just thought I'd give you all a glimpse into my love life and bid any single lady travelers a word of advice "get yourself a fake man before you venture out. Take a picture with him, keep it in your wallet and don't lie to ppl but if they ask questions, show them the photo and leave the room immediately" =)

From under a mango tree in SS

(writing gives me outlet and helps me process, SO here is my life and thoughts about it on a chilled out monday night)

After a long day of meetings with governement officials, NGO reps and assessing the situation of various human rights violations (pretty much) I'm exhausted. My hut is hot and forces me into a comatose state. Yes forces ;) One problem though. Two, four, no six beaty little eyes that just sit and stare at me. Occasionally i'll hear "sandula, sandula" from the mouths just under them and they'll jabber something at me in Arabic. Through my complete exhaustion I mustter a smile and try to decode their message.
Before long they heat become to much and I head outside for more air. The women are preparing dinner and without escape I prepare myself to eat. See normally I love eating. I really do but in our culture we eat for fun, for recreation, as delight, for social enjoyment, but here the pleasure flees at times as, strange bowl of green stuff countered by strange bowl of orange stuff (or is the orange stuff the same as the green just with more oil?) just doesn't hit the spot. (Though it does hit my hips ;) We all sit around the bowls and clumps of Ugali, someone says a quick prayer in Arabic that I nod to in faked comprehension and we dig in. Their hands, my hands, orange goop mixes with green. My only comfort is that I can de-worm in a month. lol. I finish early and debate a quick lie down in my house before my ride come to pick me. (He said he'd be gone an hour...it's not been three)
My house. OH boy. It's actually quite nice i'm just adjusting to the no privacy. As in less than.. One concrete room with some metal sheeting on the roof. Three shear panels divide where we sleep from the living room/lounge/entrance way etc. Yes "we". Four of us, a mama and her two babies, six and eight, sleep in two beds. As the Mzungu I'm lucky and I sleep alone. As a communal house however, anyone at anytime feels they can come in and chat. If we don't speak the same language, no matter, they're fine with just watching me.
My bags are stacked on a hamper of some sort and on my bed, so I sleep around them at night. It's cozy and I don't mind to much but I can't find anything and part of me would at least like to unpack my toothbrush.
I start to plan for tomorrow. More assessment and more meetings. Nothing can be implemented until we fully know what's out there. What's being done, what needs to be done, how we can partner. Assessing to me can be exhausting if I'm not careful. It's just like looking and evaluating how crappy the quality of life really is. The meeting aren't so bad. The NGO's actually seem happy about my vision an open to the "wide eyed blond" that "sees the glass half full" Honestly part of me looks around at everything and it's like "Meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless." Not in a negative way, just thinking "This too shall pass".

Honestly the first couple of days here were really hard. Culture shock FINALLY set in and looking around at the situation I had to ask myself "Am I really this hard core?" haha. Like really though. Life in the village, no int'ls, missin my friends, 'back to the stone age' some Sudanese say. So has love and hope for a war zone driven me here, or have I lost it?
After sulking and stewing in my whirlwind emotions, all in all just confused, I feel Jesus' response. "So what are you gonna do?" Uh. lol. Really? I know exactly what He means tho cause we've been here before. =) This is the part where I chose where I'm gonna sit. Cause technically I'm "seated with Christ in heavenly places" I live with a superior reality. Like a H.S. football cheer " You see death, I see life, (death-life, death-life) You see lack, I see abundance (lack-abundance...)" (Haha, sometimes I type like I think and it doesn't translate, sorry)
So with much struggle I chose another reality. I see the joy of my now life in the village and the beauty of surrender, Jesus comes and I'm now doing great!
As soon as I deviate my eyes away from His I get overwhelmed though. (Hundreds of babies sleeping in ditches can do that to you) But that's what brings me to the meaningless. All that matters is his face. I love Africa, yes it's where I want to be but, I miss my black stilettos (to say the least) and I realize once again, no matter what "world" I live in (first-third)All...that matters...is His face. It just doesn't matter if you develop "huge life saving programs" that "solve world hunger", or if you clean toilets. "This too shall pass". I dunno, when constantly confronted with sickness and poverty and problems, with no escape I'm brought back to my first love and I can't say it enough. Him in all his beauty is ALL that matters.
(Yes I'm full of cheese but He is pretty much amazing and there's just no way I could do this w/out him lol.)

and I'm left with mystery

I'm in Kampala! I left Gulu yesterday with a friend and have been enjoying life in civilization. Last night a couple of us went to a nice Thai restaurant, followed by a fabulous Irish Pub. Oh the luxury and delight. I'm back in the big city as I'm preparing to leave for Juba tomorrow. I have to laugh at my excitement to be going "home". It's so strange that you can love a place so "out there". Sorry but Sudan really is. I'll probably live in a hut with a family of Arabic speakers paying way to much money for beans and rice, maybe a lil oily cabbage.
Yet I'm excited all the same. It's so unknown, so random. Before I came, Juba wasn't even on my map, it was only after hearing rumors of hundred of tough street kids thrown away that my interest was caught.
Because street kids are a "menace" often they're randomly beat, set on fire, or even shot at. Primarily at night, basically just cause there's a lot of anger going around. Mix that with a disgusting amount of corruption.. (Enough so that Juba is one of the most expensive places to live. Ya, for $100 a night you can rent a MUD HUT. And as "romantic" as a mud hut sounds, they're not awful, BUT they are dirty and spider infested and after a while the honeymoon wears off) Anyway on top of all that the kids only eat what they find, don't go to school or work and there's hundreds of them. So yes, my plans as of entering the country are targeted toward street kids. (but plans do change, this i know)
So. Also in collaboration with the unknown I've been in debate of whether or not I need to put together an escape plan. Life is safe now but say the rebels show up and decide they want to wipe out the city of Juba. How do I leave? Do I leave? If I develop a family of street babies how do I get a few hundred kids outta danger? Heck how do I get two kids safe? With access to an abundance of perfect strategy and lets face it, very little fear, I don't know how to plan.
So I won't for now. Ha. For now I'll enjoy my Kampala hideaway, complete with dozens of monkey's and flapjacks (that don't really taste like flapjacks) =) (an english...'delicacy', lol that my english 'mum' would make my flatmate and I when we'd visit them in Oxfordshire)
This blog's random but I'm bored. Sorry they often seem sorta 'down'.
Things are going amazing tho, really. God's been giving me sweet kisses that bring joy beyond words. For instance: I had cereal this morning for breakfast. Cornflakes =). Oddly enough one of my favourite foods is cereal. (haha) and it's to expensive for me to buy it day to day but my guest house offered it so I was thrilled.
Haribo. In kampala you can buy Haribo. My favourite German sweety. So yeah. I ate Haribo today too.
What else...
Thai food. Red wine. Ice cream. All simple things that make me blissfully happy. FREE INTERNET. A dozen monkeys playing out front of my room. A park!
We're just so loved. I'm always in awe of how God loves me with the little things. Big things too but it's the sweet little gestures that somehow capture my heart the most. So I try to reciprocate thinking how can I out love him? You can't ever, I know but... to love him like Haribo. To love him like cornflakes. The secret things in his heart that you only know through day to day lovin. How can I tug his heart strings like he pulls on mine? lol. It's a mystery. Just adding them to list I guess.

The Story of John

So a couple of posts ago I mentioned a lil boy John, who to me, represented such injustice that I couldn't even talk about him. Well, in honour of John.

Orachi John
January 1 2002 - September 7 2008

I met John in Tororo, Uganda while on a medical outreach. He was brought to us by his mom just fighting for his life. The six year old was gasping for air and when we met him his body was oddly deformed. John's arms and legs were skeletal yet his torso was bulging and extremely swollen. His feet were also swollen, along with his lips and his eyes-so much so he could barely see. He was so weak he couldn't move, just occasionally whimper in pain. The worst were these awful holes he had on his body though. They were big, some were deep hollowing out his bone. Around the wound was black and as every breath sounded like his last I wondered how he was still alive.
The team gave him basic Tylenol 3 type drugs and then sent them to the hospital as I moved to the back room to bawl.
Later we followed up on him in the pediatric ward. Now, the doctors are suppose to give free medicine to extreme cases such as these but due to corruption they were with holding for 8,000 shillings. (about 4USD) Disgusting? We're not done yet.
His mom couldn't afford it.
She didn't have 5 bucks to save her sons life. So we bought the medicine and as we were "visiting" him I got in his face.
I started canoodling over him (sp? lol) Just telling him how fabulous his existence was and how much we loved him etc. etc. and for a moment, a crack in his lips almost formed a smile.
So who knew love would cost so much?
I found out John died. Just the other day. It was to late to see his body by the time I would have hopped on a trillion buses to reach. I don't know what to say. Or at least how to express. Am I more sad, or just pissed? (pardon my french) It feels like I'm being stabbed in the heart and that my massive tears will actually change something.
The injustice against kids and women is so blatantly obvious yet we walk around as if Hitler was never in power. Or... as if John's short six years didn't matter. (Hitler's tirancy (new word?) and ability to murder hundreds and hundreds of Jewish ppl was based on the fact that so many believed his lie that Jews weren't human. Thus enabling them to kill so freely. So to see women and children still so devalued, I just have Holocaust flashbacks)

I know i'm emotional and dramatic. But I feel it's an injustice to "shut-down" at life's realities. Only pansy's 'self-protect' ;)
Goodness. All week I've been wrestling with how much love hurts and how much it cost us. The price is so stinkin high, guess because it's so valuable. Right?
But instead of recoiling, John's death is like a fire under my booty. That even though loving him hurt and it was hard, I refuse to sit back and just watch "Johns" die. How is that ok?
I'm so ready for Juba. lol I'm going angry now. Or at least fueled.
Street kids are considered the worst. The hardest. Heck, they are the hardest.. So here we go! Off to the babies who could probably kick my...booty, was it? lol. I leave by weeks end for a whole new adventure. "Pioneering" is taking on new levels as, rumor has it, all other groups have given up on street kids in Juba cause corruption is too high.
What this new movement of powerful free walking in the kingdom street kids looks like...not 100% sure yet. But I can tell you this... my curriculum, ya it's pretty much amazing ;)

p.s. For all you worried souls out there, yes I had malaria last week. I'm doing better now, still tired so i'm taking it slow.

Ramblings of Gulu, France

Note: I used to try to keep this thing religion neutral but I’ve failed so much that I give up. This might be way out there but really. It’s not that bad. ;)

Sometimes when you don’t know where you’re going next it can be good to look back at where you’ve been and how you got to where you are now.
So. Gulu.
If I fully went into details of how I got here ( as in, last minute decision, twelve hour bus rides, middle of the night taxi), many of you might be a little..shocked. But I just had to swoon as I read my journal from the past few weeks.
See in part, lol, or well total whole, my journey has been following God’s voice. Words, phrases, inside jokes, and it’s never worked out better. Well for Gulu he hadn’t said much, so I was following him into the complete unknown. (as in I really knew almost nothing or nobody until the bus ride there) What He had said about Gulu however was “You’re really good at this tho!” (in responce to my opposition) And instantly I had been reminded of my vaca to Paris in 2007; an invitation for romance that had led me three days alone with Jesus in the city of love. Didn’t make much sense to many, but was oh so fabulous for me. And here, now a year later in Uganda and I was given another invitation. Rather this time Paris, France was Gulu, Northern Uganda but the idea was the same. A chance for romance and an opportunity to step where I’d never walked before.

For clarity, the parallels of the two are sort of summed up in two moments from the Paris ‘weekend’. lol.
Day One: Upon arriving in Charles De Gaul from London (where I was living at the time) I dumped my stuff in my hotel, got dolled up in my cutest clothes and headed to the Eiffel Tower. With a chocolate crepe in one hand and a Diet Coke in the other I sat in one of Paris’ most famous parks, totally swooning like a faily tale that I was/am, well, his favourite ;)
Last Day: Lost. (Go figure) In a pair of jeans and a t-shirt wandering down some back street looking for Chinese food. (my FAVOURITE) Blistered feet and exhausted I finally found some and plopped down on a curb to eat. Still lost, yet blissfully content with my dinner.
Both days were so utterly perfect and wrapped up in God. Both days so totally “us”, and it’s like Gulu is like the back streets of Paris. Lol. Slightly messy, but completely brilliant.

So why on earth am I posting this? Well, I leave in a few days and once again God hasn’t told me yet where we’re going or how we’re getting there. After walking out the last month and seeing that I couldn’t have timed out each day better myself I’m not really worried. Excited a little. Still aware of my state of homeless. (My beastly bags won’t let me forget that) But I guess what I’ve been thinking…learning, is that life is like a “Paris”. Just this gorgeous, spontaneous journey that’s all about love. All about Him, “Us”. And sometimes you get a front row view of the Eiffel Tower and sometimes you walk to the back streets but either way you’re in love. You’re with him. And you’re in “Paris!”. That to me is amazing, and my thoughts of the week.

a little creative action

Just a starter note: The kids of whom provoked me to blog a vent about humanity last post have had a slight turn around. It was fabulous as the other day I was sitting with them when they were drinking tea. They were emotionless, lifeless - as always and with no way of communication I started singing over them. Prophetically.. lil Kim Walker, John Mark, whatever and something broke. The atmosphere shifted and these sweet little kids started to laugh. (and not at my poor singing either. It was more when I stopped, really ;) As a good missionary I accidentally whacked one girl as she was sipping her tea, spilling it everywhere and scalding those near (oops) but it was still lovely as after they just looked deep into my eyes and it was as if there was someone there, for once. This is huge as often you'll look into the eyes of post war children and you'll see NOTHING. It's so bizarre but a coping mechanism for many.
So yes, our time together was bliss. By the end they were making fun of me in unison (maybe it was the spilling of the tea that started it) But I guess they thought my accent was hilarious. (lol no comments plz) and I just loved that they felt comfortable around me, even if it took a while. Anyway, just thought i'd add a happy part two. (Also they're on medication and their feet should be better in a couple weeks)

ON a similar note...last night a boy TOTALLY got healed from deafness! It was such such a treat. I guess I haven't shared the Tororo stories of all the healings there, which was fun too as God really busted a move, but this boy last night was so fun cause I just wasn't expecting it. (Sorry to say)
He was sent to me for prayer during a meeting. He was about ten years old and appeared very stoic and 'strong' doing a poor job of hiding his immense fear of the Mzungu. I grabbed a translator and we asked his hopeless looking mother what was the matter. "He's deaf. He was born deaf and can't hear a thing, not even a little" Crap. Now normally a part of me gets excited when I hear things like that cause I know the possibilities with God, however last night and seeing the look on the mothers face, I just wasn't sure if I was up for the task. I looked around desperate for another Mzungu or Ugandan leader but no one was free. "Don't you have faith?" My translator sorta mocked. Uh. Yes. So I went to start praying for this little boy. Maybe a minute or two passes and the boy gets a surprised look on his face, huge grin and starts nodding. No way, already!? We did some little tests and he could repeat everything from whispers to yells, laughs were exchanged and freedom broke out. COMPLETELY HEALED. It was a lot of fun. I love when Jesus does his thing! Shortly after some friends and I prayed for another man who was mute and he started speaking. He was such a sweety. Yay Jesus.

Spitting out the bad taste in my mouth

My vent from Northern, Uganda.

Uh, I’m so outraged, yet broken, FRUSTRATED but still raw – all at the same time. What is the value of a human life?
It’s not that high or at least not high enough, I can tell you that much. If you look around the evidence is everywhere and I’m almost out of Kleenex because of it.
Earlier this morning a family was brought to the mission house I’m staying at. Five kids under twelve. They had been living in a camp or “IDP village”. Their fathers an alcoholic, their mothers gone mad and they have no living relatives except an old frail grandfather. They’re in such bad condition they left the camp and were brought here. Just looking at them crumpled my heart. Their feet. Uh, their poor little feet had this fungus on them where their toenails looked like they had been repeatedly slammed in a door and the souls of their feet looked like sand paper. They had ring worm so bad it looked like it was eroding or “chewing off” one girls ear. Scabies COVERED their bodies, worms were in their hands not to mention their big swollen bellies. I felt sick and had to leave the room on occasion to regain composure.
My thought – love them and love them well. Uh. Right. The more time I spent with them the sicker my stomach felt. The two oldest kids went to a school in the camp and got one meal per day but as soon as they’d get it they’d run home with it and give it to the three smaller ones, as, well…it’s all any of them would see of any substance all day. And that’s in the camp.. where they’d run TO. So what have they run from?
I see individuals like this everywhere I go, I don’t know why this family is hitting me so hard. One little boy I saw a couple weeks ago, John. I still don’t want to write about him. But today it’s like, enough. What the heck. I’m just so frustrated at the state of...this.
It’d be soo much easier to look away or at least to separate my heart from the reality. “Self protection”. Mother Teresa always said to “pray for the courage to love” haha. Honestly I don’t know if I’m brave enough.
And I thought I could do Darfur. HA!
Maybe this is prep.
Everyone here has a story of war. Encounters with the LRA. Both locals and foreigners.
Man, no apologies though. I hate it when people tell sad stories to try to get money so in response I’ve often not told stories of families but this is reality (and I haven’t processed it yet so I’m taking it out online. Oh my goodness the cheese)
But really, this isn't a rarity; this is just one of a million. Everyday life. You can’t look at it that way I know, it really is all about the one. But uh. I dunno.
No matter how much I cuddle those kids, and no matter how many funguses I get from them, I still leave in two weeks. On to more faces and families.
I looked down at their maimed little toes once and then over at my French pedicured feet and it felt so..bizarre. Not that I’m apologizing for my pedicure lol it’s just.. Sometimes I realize how little I know of life. In all worlds. First through Third.
Anyways. We bought them shoes and fed them gave ‘em treats. The ministry here has now adopted them as well so their story's not over.
I dunno. It’s hard sometimes. I don't think this is coming out correctly. My written thought processing isn’t always to clear, I will apologize for that.
I should hop over to the market before it gets any later tho. The food here is TERRIBLE and expensive so I'm gonna go see what I can find from somewhere. OI. Life as it comes, the adventure of learning his goodness. Oh Jesus. :)

Fun little story from Uganda

So for the last week I've been travelling with a medical mission team from eastern Uganda. My last day on our way home we stumbled upon a tradition here with men. It was a group of maybe 15-20 guys sitting around a bucket of alcohol each with a long straw stuck in getting drunk. But it looks kinda neat somehow. So we pulled over and a friend jumped out of the car to get me a picture. Well, what started friendly soon turned sour as it turns out, a bunch of drunk guys didn't really want their picture taken and they started getting mad. In rabutle my friend states he's a christian, doesn't want trouble and goes to dive back in the car. Halfway down the street he tells us how they had actually softened when he mentioned Jesus and had asked if we could pray for them. What? So we turned the car around, jumped out and ran over to chat. A little shocked at us they said they didn't want Jesus but yes they'd still a take a prayer. haha, God can use that... I quickly shared about God's power and his love and they agreed that we could invite him to join us :) Well He did. A couple of us then started giving words of knowledge and prophesying over them (telling them things God wanted to say to them, things that without Jesus we would never know) They totally melted. Someone gave a call for healing and people started getting well just there on the side of the street. "Wait, I gotta go show my friends!" One guy told us after being totally healed. Now because of this people kept coming forward saying now they wanted this Jesus. It was great. As the adults were getting totally blasted the kids were watching on the side. So I go over and explain a 'lil, teach a 'lil and they join me in praying for the sick. Well the very first one they saw, a women with immobility and pain in her knees, jumps up and started stomping her leg.(I always like for them to REALLY try it out) Well, TOTALLY healed! Fabulous I say. We had creative miracles, aches and pains, blindness (no blind, blindness) and a whole lot of changed hearts, right there off the road. What fun. Here are the pics from the day. First the men, then me praying with the kids for a guy with stomach problems.

life as of today...

Oh my goodness life is bliss right now. I just love it. Not that everything is perfect or even sorted, haha but I'm just so loved and in love that I just can't help but giggle.
Right now I'm in a place called Tororo, a village in Uganda that hugs the border of Kenya. It's amazing minus some crazy bugs -half wasp half beast.
But before Tororo I have a fun story about the UN.

As many of you know I have this thing where... I believe in walking as his favourite... and through that going into strange places expecting to have locked doors open before me cause, well, I'm his favourite. lol... So this was another one of those moments. To lay a foundation- without contacts it's hard to go anywhere. Almost impossible unless Jesus specifically says to do it that way. So last week, while in Kampala I decided the UN would be a good place to get contacts and I left to pay them a visit and possibly speak with someone about the Sudan.It was neat though as lately I've been so stirred about Ugandan IDP camps and working and learning in them before heading up to Darfur, Sudan, to launch things in IDP camps there. (sorry, I'm leaving wholes, hope you understand)
So Monday afternoon I headed out to OCHA wearing my most professional clothes (considering I'd been living in the bush for a month) and my NGO hat (not a fashion statement just the card that I was choosing to play that day). I started with the front desk and at first was informed that there was nobody around to chat about the Sudan so I left. Half way down the street feeling a little lost I hear someone calling for me and I turn around to see a woman RUNNING after me! She said they didn't have anybody from Sudan but would I like to talk to the man in charge of the LRA affected areas? lol "Sure"... I was sent to his secretary who told me he was out and when he's in he's normally really busy. But we got chatting and off came the NGO hat and out came the giggle and the smile and she booked me an appointment! This was the start of a spiral of interviews with various UN directors of refugees and IDP's as they were giving me contacts and advce on how to get into the camps and what to say when inside and oh if I need a lift call this lady cause it's beter then the bus! I don't know if it's always that easy but I was pumped.

How I got to Tororo and what I'm doing here is another story that once again involves less then 24 hours notice before I was on a bus to work in the a place that I had never heard of before. But I don't feel like writing details now. Know that I"m safe and happy still living day to day.

I'm heading to Kenya next week for a GCM semi-annual woman's staff retreat (hahaha) and IDP camps the week after.

Juba is still a process but one we're still working on and Wudu is still sort of on the mind as the guys call me a couple times a day with "We miss you! Come back!" Haha. Such goofs.

hitting the height of boredom on a saturday night in kampala

Life is such a trip. I left Sudan early the other morning. A rushed exit in a Land Rover full of people thinking we're a taxi, a baby on my lap, luggage to the roof, heading to Moyo to catch a flight to kampala, Uganda. With no idea what's next I wonder, Is this what it feels like to be refugee? Probably not, but i'm homeless with my life on my back, that's gotta be close. ;)
I'm now safely in Kampala chillin out before heading to the next destination.

It's great to be back in a city. I had a HOT SHOWER today..haha oh yes. It felt like pure luxury. I went to a mall and ate a shawarma (which i had been CRAVING) and ice cream...I found Haribos (!!!!) It's been lush.
However at the end of the day, I miss Wudu. =( The little village in bush country Sudan that I called home for the last month. It always completely surprises me how I fall in love with those places. No electricity, running water, stores -they barely had a market, just a hut that I shared with a million and a half spiders... shudder... Yet it was great. I'll never forget walking down the dirt path into..."town" and having a few dozen kids emerge from their houses calling "Sandra, Sandra, how aw you!?" They're so considerate ;)
(Private joke for those of you who have lived in Africa)
The first couple weeks were great with a team from California there with me. Travelling around to schools and doing open air meetings, miracles, signs, wonders, lotsa fun. The last couple weeks there was 'independent' living on a ACC base just working under GCM getting to experience jesus showing up in crazy ways.

It's always so neat seeing him heal hearts, minds and bodies. I'm still amazed when his love comes and people are instantly healed. Healed! Like really. (?) I can't do that! It's just amazing. About a dozen people were healed of pains -headaches, backaches, arthritis...ulcers, just on the side of the road or in the market. In the pediatrics ward babies were SENT HOME after being healed of malaria. People were coming up to me saying how they tried praying to Jesus and he was nice and He answered so now they were surrendering their whole selves to him. It was fabulous.

Last week I was sick with the flu too. That part wasn't so fabulous.

And it's Saturday night and I'm in a strange city with nothing to do. That part, not so fabulous either. lol.

Blogs are always so bizarre. It's like the stories that don't make the newsletter, stuff that doesn't go to Grandma...

Tomorrow I'm gonna start writing "untold stories of Sudan'. Just weird things that happen that...don't normally make the cut, haha, but still have value to me so they get the blog! ;)

Please continue to send me your updates. Dates, mates, babies and everything in between!

Also if you want my personal updates that explain what i'm actually doing (lol more than just trying to "love a nation to life" haha) then just send me an email
->cass.basnett@gmail.com.

Miss you all!! ....Seriously... =)

It smells like Africa! (Phase...three?)

So I wrote this big long blog yesterday and right before it published my internet cut off. C'est la vie je quoi.

Well, after around 72 hours of travel on maybe 10 hours of sleep we finally arrived in Kenya!

I was more than extatic to say the least. We spent the night in Nairobi and the next day flew to Eldorate and then drove to Bungoma. We're here checking things out and having meetings about GCM's up and coming Rescue Center and then tomorrow we head off again.
A 6 hour drive across the Kenya-Uganda border to Kampala and then an early morning flight up north, followed by another long drive across another border to end in Sudan.

I'm so pumped to be back in Africa. My body not so much as my skin and stomach are still acclimatizing but...other then that! I've been taking lots of pictures and hugging all the babies. My swahili is slow but give me another day or two ;)

To step back a little... my time in LA was great. It was soo good seeing people again and eating all my old favourite Californian food, that and a few expression58 mettings and I had a blast.

We went from California to London where we had a great OVERNIGHT layover! It felt like such a gift to be back 'home' in England with one of my favourite friends, sad to have only been there a night tho!

Anyway, I'm sorry this is so scatter brained, or at least it feels scatter brained.

We still don't have a concrete plan for after the team leaves. I have some things that have been on my heart in the last couple days but right now they're pretty far out there so unless God shows up... they won't happen. So please keep praying as we decide what country I'll heading to after July 18th.

I hope everyone is doing fabulous, internet will be more scarce in the upcoming days so please understand my lack of communication is not my lack of desire to chat. I will be getting a Kenyan number today so hopefully I can use that in transit as well. I'll have that number out soon!
big hugs to all!

Phase One:

Interesting fact of the day - Turns out it takes longer to fly from small town Saskatchewan to LA as it does to fly from TO to London. Ok, maybe not that interesting, but my journey thus far.

I made to LA in one piece. I arrived and was instantly whisked away to the beach to tan on the hot sand. I was told this was probably the only time i'd see the ocean this trip so enjoy! I'm now chilling in my friends flat for the day before I'm handed off to the GCM crew and we try figuring out the latest details on the Sudan set up.
It's been quite an adventure trying to plan this trip. With our contacts speckled throughout the world everything has been done via phone and has been quite confusing at times. Just three days before I was suppose to move our main contacts on the ground in Sudan told us there was miscommunication and they are not able to partner with our work. Not good considering we leave in less than two weeks... So i'm glad i'm here and maybe we can collaborate better, i dunno. Anyway, that's sort of the latest.

LA is hot. We're in the low 100F's here and you can definitely tell. I've been a little emotional since my arrival as well. Well...actually for the last week before I left to. I always forget how much moving takes out of you. Especially when you don't know where you're moving to or really where you're moving from... lol. It's good though. Life is an adventure and I am loving it.
Will be able to do a little email before I head out on July 3rd so if anyone wants to take advantage of that, now would be the time. :) Big loves to all.

Dining for Darfur

Hey Guys!!

I'm back in Canada, rested and recovered from Thailand (will try to have email updates and pics out SOON!)
While I'm back I'm trying to focus on getting ready for what's next.
I'll be moving to Sudan July 1st. A team from California will be traveling to Africa and then July 20th they'll be traveling out of Africa. Leaving me behind. =) I'm so excited, and will have more details out via email.

One thing I am doing while back is a dinner for Sudan. In the province of darfur, genocide has been pronounced and it's the first time in history it's ever been named while it is still going on. I'll be living in the south but all ticket proceeds will go to aiding those hit the hardest in the west, Darfur.

Random ramblings after another trip to the district

Day two in the red light district. I'm not quite sure how to word everything that's zooming around in my head. I keep replaying every conversation every smile, every stare.

My friends and I headed to the district just after dark. I was more nervous this time as I knew what to expect and the heart strings it would pull. The bar I sat at was pretty packed this time but somehow I was still able to talk to one of the girls after buying her a coke. She was incredibly sweet. She spoke english really well and told me her story of how she had to start work in the industry after her husband died. Before that she and her husband had been world travelers and had even lived in Europe for a while. She told me about some of her old dreams and aspirations but how now none of it will probably happen. She said all she has time for is working, sleeping and cleaning. That's right, most girls only get about two days off a month and "you can imagine all the spider webs that come after a few weeks!" (lol yes she too had a deep loathing for spiders) My heart went out to her as she recalled the pain of her husbands death, and said her only friends now are at the bar. It's like what can you do? How can you show her how much she's loved? We talked for just under an hour and when I left we hugged and she asked if I would come back. "Nobody talks to us. Well, they talk but they don't want to hear us talk" All I could do was tell her that our conversation meant a lot to me and just how valuable she was, hoping she caught it.
It's so frustrating. They do their job and you see them dancing and working the guys but when you actually look in their eyes you wonder how people can't see the pain oozing out of them. "It's their choice, they like it" can be the debate but really, most of them are working in the bars because in Thai culture the women must support the family and when it's not them paying the bill the families can work up massive dept. One girl was 19 and had only been working five days. This was her story as she had a nine month old baby at home and her parents dept to pay off. In desperation she turned to her last resort as most of the girls do.

Uh. Everything inside me wants to cry out for justice for the girls, how long will we let this issue go on, why the heck are we all so silent!
lol. I was planning on just saying some stories and leave out my emotions but haha, I guess i'm not there yet. We're heading out again tonight and probably every night until we go. lol my apologies for the randomness of it all, guess that's the nature of a blog.

Everything else is going great. I'm in love with Thai food even though my mouth hasn't stopped burning since I got here (slight exaggeration but it's still very spicy) My team is also amazing and we're having a blast everywhere we go. Oh! Please continue to pray for the kids. They're amazing and were totally blown away when we told them our God was nice and really liked them. However...translation has been quite the challenge. Only a few days left with this batch so please keep us in your prayers!

Thailand!

Hey guys, I made it to Thailand. Things are going really well I love the people and the culture, I'm melting in the weather but i like the heat so it works.
Yesterday was quite the day as we jumped right into working with the "working girls".
How to describe it I'm not really sure. I feel my emotions are still a little fragile and as I search for the words to describe what I saw.
The day began with worship as we joined all the women from the ministry we're working with. (They help women get out of prostitution and rehabilitate them into 'normal life') As about 70 women sang their hearts out praising God for his goodness, you could hardly guess that some of them walked the streets just 4 weeks before. After we were shown around the center seeing where the women now work, learn basic life skills and get healed and whole from their old lives of abuse.
Following lunch, we got a thorough orientation from the director and did a little tourist outing by the river side then proceeded to do a 180 from the morning and headed to the bars.
Honestly, I still just feel speechless. Part of me didn't know whether to weep or be sick or just feel numb. I'm still processing so please forgive the randomness but in short, here was our night.

In teams of four, along with the other ministry, we entered various bars at one of the districts here. All around were men of all ages, all nationalities and girls. All half naked, all fully abused. We entered cautiously, I've been researching this scene for a few years now but nothing ever fully prepares for seeing it. We barely stepped in and the air felt x10 thicker and you suddenly just want a shower on the inside. In the Buddhist religion they believe you're a woman because you didn't do enough good in your previous life to be a man. Women must obey and no matter what do whatever the man asks. When you look into the eyes of the women you see the pain and brokenness of that theory, poorly masked by make up and a string thong.
We sat in a corner and ordered some cokes. (Usually ordering non-alcoholic drinks spurs such curiosity that the girls come talk with you) Well it worked and a few girls came and sat down with us. They kept smiling saying how much they liked us, that there was something in our eyes. In their broken english and my four words of Thai we spoke about their kids, Canada, and attempted a Thai lesson (unsuccessful but they loved it) They were extremely sweet and even knowing I was surely not a client it was interesting seeing them rotate through me all wanting to ask my name and me attempt to ask theirs in Thai. The smiles on their faces were the only thing that kept me from bawling my eyes out.
After a while we went to a middle eastern hotel. When we arrived my team was confused as we thought we were going to keep working with the girls that night. Little did we know this 'normal' hotel lounge was bustling with trafficked girls. It was worse then the Red light as it appeared so normal but when you stop and start paying attention it was so corrupt. Here the women sat at tables waiting for a man to walk over and "chose them" to come "dine" with him. A friend and I got a chance to speak with a girl from eastern europe who was twenty two. She had just received a degree with computers and had been in here a month. Our hearts were completely shattered as she recalled her favourite things from home and her desire to return. She was so hard yet so open. I still feel nauseous thinking about her story and the other girls. Just the way the men entered the hotel restaurant scouting out a girl like they're buying meat at a grocery store. After spotting her they'd nod and wave and on command the girl would get up and head to their side. I was taken aback as I sat beside our girl and had a man summon me. I pretended I didn't see him until we were heading out the door and again and again he motioned asking if I would like to come sit. I was so annoyed and want to just blurt out "I'm not for sale and neither should these girls be" but instead just shook my head No and stuck to my girlfriends side. (Not wanting to draw attention to myself or the team)
With that said some of you might be a little annoyed also, but to think, is there any difference if the injustice happens to me or to someone else? Your daughter or theirs? (don't worry dad, I'm being safe)

So yes, there was our night to the bars. I still feel like emotionally I'm walking on eggshells with the matter. As weird as it is though, every time I'm faced with radical injustices like war, famine, poverty and now the sex trade, every time I feel I fall more in love with Jesus. It's like I feel every morsel in my heart shatters at the sights but I know that as much as it hurts me it tears him up even more. I witness their horror for a couple hours he sees it day in and day out. I love them in that place and he wants to take their place. It's unfathomable to me how good he really is yes, even in the Red Light.

The rock star kids of today. Location: Ontario, Canada

Happy Easter weekend!
Things are going so fast lately oh my word. As most of you know, I'm back from Ecuador. It was fun but before I could even finish processing it seemed I was off on another jet plane this time to Ontario, Canada to speak at a kids Conference. I had a great time as I got to work with super stars for a week. (aged 4-13)
Honestly it's such a joy seeing kids really get God. So often as adults we can analyze everything to death, putting "friendship with God and hearing his voice" at such a distance, something complex that only 'special' people can achieve, (pastors, preachers, old fashion big haired ppl stuck in the 80's attire...) And we think heaven forbid kids could ever understand such a thing! But when you don't hold out on them, only giving them cake and cookies in the gym, they learn a lot and eventually stop calling church "the snore" and start having a real friendship with God. Here are a couple stories from the week, I'll try and keep it short.


Our first day they learned the reality of the kingdom and how to hear God’s voice. It went great and at the end to practice hearing we sort of played little games with God such as “If you could take me anywhere in the world, real or pretend, where would you take me? Why?” Or “Jesus, if you could give me any present what would it be?” Well after the latter question God told one little girl he wanted to give her family a new laptop. Lol. She didn't really understand why, "maybe just 'cause he loves me?" Well literally about an hour after getting home there was a knock at her door and out of the blue her family was given a brand new, fancy pants, fully loaded laptop! So like God to tell a kid what he's up to. Just because she asked.

The last couple days we take them out to the streets to hear God for other people and love on strangers, heal the sick and whatever else God decides to do. So we make cards with a message or picture from God and then ask him who he wants to give it to and where they are. Well one little boy makes a card and says the man’s at the mall. "He’ll be a native man, wearing a black jacket, blue jeans, no hat no mitts (which was actually quite hard to find in the winter) and the man will be near something orange." So we’re walking through the mall and we see a man who matches the description. “Well I’m not sure if it’s him, where’s the orange?”. Well the boy turns around and the walls in the store behind us are all bright orange! We chase down the man and the little boy hands him his card and the man gets totally rocked and is amazed at the card and how God spoke to this little boy just for him.

The stories of numerous as the kids touched heaven and brought it down to earth. They’d see sick people and get all excited “Look, there’s a guy in wheelchair!” not because they delight in his pain but because they delight in the fact that they have access to the answer. They would pray and ask Jesus where the sick people were in the store and God would lead the kids right to them and they’d get to see God’s love manifest as the people were touched in ‘aisle 2’.

It was great. lol. Life doesn't stop long though as Monday I'm off to LA to meet up with some of my team and then head to Thailand on Tuesday. I'm so excited for this trip, Thailands been on my heart for a couple years so I can't wait to see God radically show up and see a bunch of new babies bring the kingdom. Man he's good.

The tragic tales of donuts gone bad Part 2

Ok quick little update that I find well sort of funny.

So we´re all still recovering from our donut horror from yesterday. Today we were standing properly but still feel the after effects and are watching what we eat. The guy, Everett that was really sick yesterday did not go to the hospital but after we left him was still quite weak. Later that night while talking to his house family he suddenly got really dizzy and passed out. While unconcious his body went into convulsions. He´s now more then ok and up and walking around. Pretty scary that a donut can do that to you. However in my defense he did eat a quesadilla with sketchy cheese as well. Maybe that was what did it. Oh the joys of third world dinning.

The tragic tales of donuts gone bad

So today after a delightful breakfast I was craving something sweet. I thought it was perfect with a little pastry shop across the way to check out their donuts and other pastries. And hey, while I´m there I might as well buy some for the whole gang ( at $.35 a pop i thought it sounded good) So I got home and everyone rejoiced, however after a bite or two the praises ended and everyone started binning the so-called donuts. True they were quite sketchy and tasted like they were made when my mohter was my age but no bother I´ll finish not only one but three and try my best to enjoy my pastry. Not a wise move. Three of us pressed in to the end and three of us couldn´t stand by the end of the night. One guys is so sick we might have to take him to the hospital. So much for a pleasant trip to the donut shop. Note for future travelers. If the food tastes strange and not the way it normally does. Just say no!

On a happier note, we went to a village one wednesday! We were up at 3am for a five hour car ride out of town and up a mountain to visit some kids of a little school. I loved it. It reminded me of the Congo winding up a mountain on crazy roads, passing the clouds and clinging on to the person beside you for dear life everytime another car comes from the other direction on the one way...road. When we got to the village my spanish got a workout as I tried my best to make friends with all the little kids. THey were so cute and didn´t seem to mind the mix of french and portuguese and at the end were hanging all over me stroking my skin and petting my hair saying ¨You are REALLY white!!¨Before we left we gave out hygene supplies and hoped the little raggamuffins use them before we began our 5hour trip back home.

Next week we leave again to the coast this time to preach at villages and train up some teachers of a school. I´m excited to get out again to the bush! It may not be Africa but it will do for now!

And just some extra fun little pics.


Horse back riding in the country ;)



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Me posing with one of the guards from the men´s prison

Life is so strange as it feels like been here for months but it turns out it hasn´t even been three weeks yet!
Things are going well, my health is back to normal and even though it feels like i´m eating a bucket more of food it appears that i´m losing weight because the food is so healthy (nice deal if I do say so)
Over the last couple weeks we have been extremely busy preaching, teaching and loving on kids and youth. Last week we were at a children´s school teaching 2-12 year olds about God. Here they have no problem with religion but they have no concept of relationship with God. (which is backwards. Religion ´bad´, relationship-good.) So we were doing 4-6 classes ranging from 40minutes - 1 1/2 hours...back to back...on hearing God´s voice, healing the sick, bringing heaven to earth and all in all being God´s best friend. For the most part the kids were rocked (we´re still waiting on confirmation from the two year olds ;)as they experienced the powerful presence of God for the first time.
This week we moved up and taught at a school with kids 13-18. These kids were a little more challenging. Each class had about 20-30 kids and we had 2 1/2hrs with each. It was great though, I love when the kids challenge us. One group couldn´t have cared less about God after having religion and rules stuffed down their throats all their lives. So our little rag tag group waltzes in pours our hearts out, one girl is even bawling as she tells a radical story of how God saved her, still...nothing. So we ask if any of them even just want to taste a little bit of God´s presence come up and we´ll ask God to touch them. Surprisingly enough quite a few came up. Well Jesus is so amazing and showed up big time. The kids were crying and crying and falling to the ground as his presence was so strong they couldn´t stand! It was crazy and lots of fun.

So that´s been some ministry for ´normal´fun last weekend we left town for a day of play. (After getting an $8 pedicure of course!) We went to this place called Mindo in the mountains and got a chance to go Canapying (where you´re attached to a harness and fly from mountain to mountain) White water rafting (for $3!) and quading. Oh the hard times of missionary life!

Today is another day off (we get one a week) but it won´t be so eventful. We have a big retreat tomorrow with all the youth and have to plan and prepare. (Please keep it us in your prayers!!)

Funny cause it feels like we´ve done more but at the moment i´m drawing a blank. Tuesday we spoke at a men´s prison... Slightly more sketch then the women´s let´s say. I was talking to my friend after and I was saying how tough they are, then we had to laugh as it was like ´well obviously, they´re in there for murder!´ (I think it was funnier at the time) God came though and we´ll continue to go back every second week.

Please keep prayin as we do a lot of preaching and it´s absolutely pointless to minister if God and the power of his kingdom don´t radically show up. Also Thailand planning is starting to go to the next level as we start organising our team, please pray for everything to fall into place!!

Extra note: I think Jen wrote an update that´s posted on the director of the ministries myspace page. So if you want more details the site is www.myspace.com/eagledove under Jen Toledo in Ecuador or something like that.
All my loves!

In Ecuador!

Hey Guys,
I can´t talk long but I just wanted to let everyone know I made it. It took over 30 hours to get here but when I arrived I adjusted well to the altitude and ám trying my best to learn spanish asap (i understand it pretty well it´s just speaking where i struggle) I don´t have much time but i just wanted to quickly share some fun stories!
So on Friday we learned that a baby of a family that the directors are close to was in the ICU and on the verge of death. The doctor´s told them there was no hope and she wouldn´t make it through the afternoon. Well, not on our watch.We all piled in vehicles and rushed to the hospital to start praying. When we got there it didn´t look good but as we were praying the doctors came out and said the baby was stablising. Well as we´re in the waiting room we meet another mother who´s baby was on the verge of death. It had an infection that started in the lungs but was somehow climbing towards the brain or something. The mother was frantic but let us pray with her. A few minutes later she came out from the ICU room bawling as the baby slipped into a coma. Again the doctors said there was very little hope. We kept praying though knowing that the only answer at this point was Jesus showing up. WELL... within maybe 30 minutes the doctors came out once again to say the baby was on the mend. By the time we left the hospital a few hours later both babies were doing well and óut of danger´as they say. Isn´t God amazing! We were thrilled.
Well that was that. i preached at a woman´s juvenile prison yesterday and throughly enjoyed loving on all the woman. One girl was 16 and had two kids. One 5 and the other 3. They were great.
However... ever since I arrived I´ve had quick the stomach ache that has been accompaning me. It started in Calgary and Friday I started feeling nausious from it. Then saturday I started violently throwing up and was achy and full of pain. It sucked. Thankfully the guy we´re staying with is a doctor and stuck me with a needle to make me stop throwing up and pumped me full of medicine to ´make me strong´. I´m now on the mend and walking beautifully.
Well all my love to everyone! Hope to speak soon! Ciao!!

You had me at "the beach"

Hi Guys! I'm in LA. I was up this morning at the ungodly hour of 3:30 for some more country hopping before I'll eventually arrive in Ecuador tomorrow just after lunch.
I forgot how much I missed LA, sitting with my friend eating a great little salad starring at the waves of the Pacific, it almost felt like home. lol almost. Not quite tho. (I've been quite emotional with this trip so please bare with me, hopefully it passes soon) ;)
All my love to everyone.
Probably won't have much internet time in Ecuador but I will have a phone (thank you Tunde) so I will email that out soon!
Loves