I was already late for work when my travel mug tipped from it's precarious position and precious latte spurted out over my phone screen, soaked into my wallet, and ran in a little stream across the passenger seat. Today the sky over the mountains was a deep greyish blue and the metal on Soloman's roof … Continue reading How short term missions trips can actually be God-directed.
There are numerous drafts on my computer but I can't bring myself to post any of them. Fall of 2017 was a season of my life in which brokenness and many wordless moments seemed to be the calling I was called too. In some ways I'm still in that season but I am so grateful … Continue reading Treasures out of darkness
“Mlaja died today.” I forgot the other words in Kim's note as my mind caught a glimpse of Mlaja – suavely watching me from across the compound, and I felt again how I'd felt then – Trying to be respectful so that he would allow me to interact with his two youngest wives. Mlaja, the … Continue reading Mlaja, and incapabilities.
When I left Texas the first time, Jo and Claire both handed me carefully scrawled cards that made me cry, they were so what I needed. I didn't know whether I'd ever see them again until heaven. Two weeks later all the higher powers decided that it'd be fine if Lana would go back … Continue reading Mashed Potatoes and Harvey >Part 2
Miss Lucene called while I was at The French Press doing homework, and asked how soon I could be in Houston, because they need a cook next week. She thought maybe I could just fly down cuz she didn't know of a ride. I blinked and sat down to google cheap tickets. I found a reasonable … Continue reading Mashed Potatoes and Harvey >Part 1
I'd only intended to be a floater at VBS, you know, the person who walks from classroom to classroom, delivering paper towels and spoons for the dipping chocolate and escorting rows of bouncing kids to the restrooms and gets in on a little bit of everything -- motives you know? They messaged while i was … Continue reading of VBS in the mountains
During my last week in Liberia, all 9 of us crammed into one of uncle Paul's vehicles and bounced our way to the edge of the Atlantic ocean, where the remains of the famous Hotel Africa rests surrounded by groves of palm trees. A Nigerian led us through the maze of bombed out rooms and … Continue reading The ruins of Hotel Africa