Choices

I've been thinking a lot about choices this week.

Each day provides us with unlimited amounts of choices. Some we have to make quickly - what do I want for breakfast? What should I wear today? Some take a little more time - what do I want to plan for this weekend? Where should I go on my next vacation? Some we won't make for a while - what do I want to be when I grow up? Where will I retire?

Some choices we make without even thinking much about them. Sure, I'll go on a date with you. Yeah, I'd like to see you again. You want to come visit? Yeah do it! They seem small, and really quite easy to make at the time. The choice to see someone again that you enjoy being with? Easy. Obviously a yes. But all of these small choices begin to add up. Now you've seen him every weekend this month. You said yes to being his girlfriend. You're dating long distance. Now there are new choices. How often to go visit him, how many days to take off of work, how many nights a week do you want to talk on the phone? Again these choices still feel pretty easy, and like there aren't huge consequences to them. Do I want to stay up a little later to talk to him? Yeah, why not? I can have coffee in the morning and sleep in on Saturday. Should I take a weekend to go visit him and meet his family? Sure! It'll be fun, an adventure.

But then...one day you wake up and realize you love him. You've been talking about marriage. This is real. So many small choices have been doing something. Moving this thing along. Is this where you want to be? Do you want to be with him forever? You know what....yes. Yes I do. It seems like such an obvious choice. I know I love him. So yes - yes again - let's keep this moving forward.

Small, easy choices. Adding up. Seems simple. Life is moving, jump on for the ride!

And you know what? Even sitting where I am now...I'm not sure I would change those choices. I'm not sure I would know how to. If I put myself back in that moment, in that frame of mind, in that season of life...I don't know if I could make any other choice. Because it's not my choices that I regret. It's not my choices I would change. I am okay with what I did. I fell in love with someone, I fell harder than I ever had before - than I ever knew possible. I said yes when he asked. I said I do in my white dress at the altar. And I meant it. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I would sacrifice whatever it took to be with him, to spend those lazy Saturdays laughing in the park, to make strong coffee and pumpkin pancakes in the mornings together, to talk late into the night until our voices were hoarse. To dance in the kitchen, to watch him play the drums at church. I made the choices that led me to love him, to marry him, to fight for our marriage in every way I knew how.

What I wish is not that I could go back and make a different choice.

What I wish is that we could go back and he could make a different choice. That we could go back even to just a year ago, when I made the choice to move out of our apartment because I just couldn't live with the abuse any longer. I want him to choose to fight for our marriage. I want him to choose to take steps toward change. I want him to own what he did to me, what he said to me, and truly repent, turn around, and choose another way.

But he didn't. He didn't make that choice. Honestly I don't think he even knew how to. So many small choices - to have another beer that night, to say those words in anger, to refuse counseling, to try to willpower his way out of it all, to apologize and really believe it will somehow be different next time...all of these seemingly small choices had added up. They'd trapped him. He said yes to the devil's promptings too many times. It was all he knew to do. And he was not willing to do the impossibly hard work of climbing out of that trap, of reaching to Christ to save him, of admitting that he was broken and in need of serious repair. He wanted to just keep saying yes to what felt comfortable. Because that's what he knew. Those were the choices he was so used to making. The unknown can be paralyzingly terrifying.

So he stayed the same. And I couldn't.

I made a choice to pursue freedom.

Because living in fear, under abuse, and utterly hopeless is not what God designed for me.
And living trapped in addiction and fear and brokenness is not what God designed for him either.

It was the hardest choice. One of those choices that changes everything. A choice that feels like it shifts your whole world. And as impossibly difficult as that choice feels, it's almost like you don't actually have any other options. Once you know that freedom could be found again, that staying enslaved to fear does not do anyone any good, that maybe this is really what's best for everyone involved...how could I choose anything else? My heart ached for freedom. For the ability to make those small choices about my day without fear of if he would be mad, or yell at me for what I chose to do or not to. For the text I didn't send but should have. For the friend I chose to call and shouldn't have because I was preoccupied for 10 minutes instead of sitting with him on the couch. For the laundry I decided to save for tomorrow, for the papers I brought home to grade, the run I went on before he got home so I could start dinner for us. All wrong. All choices I got yelled at and ridiculed for. It was impossible to make a "right" choice in his eyes. And that might sound dramatic but my goodness was it true.

A friend who had been in a similar situation said "The only thing harder than staying was leaving." It's so true. Truer than you can imagine. More on that later. For now, I am grateful for a God who showed me that I did still have a choice. There is always a path to freedom. This wasn't the path I wanted to take...at all. But he made the choice to stay in the broken patterns of abuse, and so my only path to freedom led away from him.

I don't know what choices are ahead of me. For today I'm just going to focus on the small, easy choices in front of me. Where they are leading I'm not sure, but life is moving - whether I'm ready or not.


We can never go back. We can only go on and on.
-Joy Williams

Double Portion Farm

Story #2: Emma and the Farm

Emma is a 25 year old Ugandan who is the manager at Double Portion Farm. The farm is one of CLD's projects and was originally started to help cut costs at the school by growing food to feed the students. It has turned into an incredible mission to share farming and business techniques with interested students/interns who come for 9 month terms to learn from Emma and the other guys at the farm.

Emma has been married to Agnes for about a year and just became a dad! They had a baby boy named Jeff who I had the pleasure of meeting when we were there - he was 22 days old when I got to hold him! Such a sweetie.

Listening to Emma talk about the farm is inspiring and exciting. When he was showing us around the farm our first time there he said: "This is my mission field. This is what I am so excited to share with people everyday - how to farm God's way and do it with joy!"

The farming techniques they teach are from a Zimbabwean farmer who started a program called "Farming God's Way". It is basically a return to traditional ways of farming (compost for fertilizer, mulch, etc) instead of what many farmers do now (slash and burn, using GMO/hybrid seeds which they have to buy again every year, etc). The farm has seen their outputs increase significantly since using Farming God's Way and they are eager to share what they've learned with other local farmers as well as some from other surrounding countries.

It was such a pleasure to help out around the farm - weeding, harvesting corn - and we even got to camp out and spend a night there. It was beautiful and so very peaceful.

http://www.comeletsdance.org/farm/ for more details on the farm's story.

Let the stories begin.

Well we made it back home (after 41 hours of travel to get here - whew!) and I can hardly believe the trip is already over. Obviously I didn't get much time to blog while there, but for those still interested (and for my own processing benefits) I am going to write various posts about our time there in the weeks to come. 

I've decided to write the posts as stories, each one featuring someone or something that especially impacted me while in Uganda. It is a privilege to tell someone's story, a privilege that I don't take lightly. My prayer in sharing these stories is to share the beauty of what God is doing and who He is working through in a place far away but not so different from our own. (see my previous post on story telling for more of just what stories mean to me)

Overall I can say that God met me there and my heart left significantly more full than it arrived. I am so thankful to have been able to go back and am continually in awe of how faithful and kind God has been to me. 

Story #1: Martha

I'm choosing to tell her story first because she was the last student at WCIA school that I hugged and shed tears with before I left. I can still see her sweet face so vividly and feel her arms tight around me as we soaked in our last moments together.  

Some background. Wakiso Christian International Academy (WCIA) is a school started by Come, Let's Dance. The school has both boarding and day students and includes grades from pre-K through primary 7. (They also opened a high school this year but more on that later). 

Check out http://www.comeletsdance.org/school for more info on why they started a school and the impact they're having. 

The school is a place of laughter, learning, singing, dancing, and praising the Lord. We were able to help out in classrooms, the library, with gym class, cleaning, etc during the day. We spent many afternoons playing and hanging out with the kids once school was out for the day. 

Martha is a sweet girl that I met early on in my time there. She is in fourth grade, speaks very good english, loves to sit with her friends and talk, has a beautiful singing voice, and a kind, sweet spirit. We colored together, we sang songs, played games, etc. At some point we developed nicknames for each other - she is my little mosquito and I her grasshopper. <3 div="" nbsp="">

I could go on for days. Suffice to say Martha is a sweet friend and I cherish the time we spent together. I would love it if you would join me in praying for her - for health, for her studies, her family, for the beautiful woman she is growing up to be. God be praised. 

Martha is on the left and Adrien on the right. 

Quick update!

Hello friends! 

Sorry I haven't been able to blog, Internet access has been quite limited, but I have some time tonight so just want to give you a quick idea of what we've been up to. 

We got to see my host family our first week here which was AMAZING. They were thrilled to get to meet mom and so excited and honored that we came to stay with them. What a joy for me to be reunited with them after all this time. 

Since then we have been at "base camp" with Come Lets Dance (CLD). The compound is quite nice and a great place to come back and relax at after busy days (the first two weeks here there was a huge group of volunteers from CSU - fun to have CO friends in Uganda :)). Week days are spent at one of the various projects CLD works with: hanging with kids at the primary school (running around, playing cards - can't describe how absolutely adorable and loving they are), working on the farm, tutoring kids in the slums, making posters for teacher aids, trimming stray threads at the sewing outreach - Thread of Life, etc. 

I have also been able to observe teachers at the high school and talk with them about ideas and ways to improve their teaching. So cool for me to be able to plug in that way, and for mom to be able to help at Thread of Life with a leather project they are just getting started on. 

I was also supposed to give a teacher training on Saturday but got the flu and spent the day traveling on bumpy roads to the clinic to get rehydrated. Recovered more today and hoping to be up and about tomorrow. I'm scheduled to teach a few physics classes at the high school this Tuesday and next so I'd appreciate prayers for strength to be able to do that! 

Thanks so much for your support and prayers - can't tell you how wonderful it is to be back in Uganda. :) Miss you all!! Xoxo

Back to Uganda at last!

My goodness it has been a long time. So many stories to tell and journeys to share, with unexpected twists and turns along the way. The most important thing is that my God is faithful and just, and has never left my side. I am so grateful for my faith and how it has grounded me through all life has handed me. I can honestly say I would NOT have made it through the last two years without the love and care of my Savior.

And now He has given me the most amazing gift - to return to Uganda, the place I left pieces of my heart in seven years ago. But this time I'm not going alone. In the craziest of ways He has called my mom to join me! My mom!! The one who, when I asked her if I could study abroad there said not only "no", but "no, I won't even pray about it."

But here we are, sitting side by side in the Newark airport, about to be on our way to Brussels and then Entebbe. Tomorrow night we will be in my home away from home. I will have the immense joy of introducing the place and people I love so dearly to my mom. And what happens after that...who even knows? :) God will show up and do what He does best: surprise, awe, love, challenge, and amaze us.

I. Cannot. Wait.

Thanks for coming along on this journey with us and a double thanks to the many of you who donated to help make this trip a reality. I cannot tell you what it means to me.

I will update this blog as I'm able - not sure yet what our access to Internet will look like. We're grateful for your thoughts and prayers as we journey forward in this crazy little thing called life.

Cheers!

On Story Telling...

We each have our own story - full of laughter, tears, crazy memories, family, friendships, relationships. Sharing the stories of our lives is a beautiful thing. 

It seems to me there are two very different kinds of stories to tell, and ways to receive them. There are stories that are funny, or sweet, or sad, but don’t take anything from us as we tell it besides a bit of memory and the words on our lips. Stories told this way might bring a laugh out of the listener, or a smile, or perhaps even a tear. They may even re-tell the story someday, recalling the events once more with a moment of brief remembrance. 

But then there is a completely different kind of story we can tell. This kind pulls at your heartstrings in a way you cannot describe. There is much of you invested in this story’s contents. This memory shaped you, changed you; and so it changes you even now, as you speak it into words. It may be a sweet memory of a moment that changed a relationship, or brought one into being, or ended one for good. It could bring up warm tears that fall past a smile as a parting hug is remembered, or a front porch is pictured – the place where countless hours were spent shaping relationships. It could also bring bitter tears as heart-wrenching scenes are brought to mind once again – times of pain, death, separation. As these words are spoken the bitterness or anger or hurt burns as fresh as it did that April day so many years ago.

Stories such as this bring varied responses in the listener. They may invoke a bit of emotion as the listener feels sympathy for what the speaker has experienced. Here the listener leaves the conversation for the most part unchanged. Different, and beautiful is the listener who knows and understands, who feels in a deep way the emotions behind this story. Empathy is powerful and real and in this moment both party’s hearts are pulled and changed in the telling and receiving. Such exchanges are rare – and so valuable.

I am so thankful for moments like this that are especially rare when I tell of Uganda and Rwanda to people. My heart is refreshed in a way unlike any other. Talking to someone who understands where you have been leaves so much less to have to be explained, clarified. So much more emotion is shared and truly known deeply.

Perhaps more beautiful still are moments when listeners are genuinely affected and changed by stories they hear – even when they have no previous connection to them. To truly open oneself up to a story and to the story teller to let God use the words as He will is a difficult and precious thing. But oftentimes we need a listener to hear the pains in our stories, because we just cannot go it alone. I truly believe it is possible and so necessary to enter into a place of suffering with someone, to sit and be with them in that. It may not be easy, or comfortable, but they need a friend in that place. And I think it is nothing but the close and purposeful listening of their story that will bring you to that place.

Cue my newest favorite song: Nightminds by Missy Higgins. She describes this entering into suffering with someone perfectly.

I pray for the courage to continue to tell difficult stories hoping and trusting that change CAN take place in the speaking and listening of them.

Home sweet home again.

Ahh life is so crazy! Time is so fickle. Every time I sit down to write I am just blown away by where the wind has taken me. And the beauty of this moment is I truly have NO idea where I am going to end up next.

In short – stomach problems have been plaguing me, I didn’t love Boston or the research I was doing at Tufts, and the combination thereof has caused me to end up back home in Colorado, taking a year off of grad school and going to doctors to try to get healthy. Let’s not forget Cass’s wedding two weeks ago (see last blog post for the toast I gave at the wedding), or Renee’s coming up in 5 months. So many exciting things going on!

Back to this lovely moment. I’ve spent the last week moving in and making space for myself in what was/is the guest room at my parent’s house. Moving back in with the rents seems weird in some ways, but also so normal and so good. I am truly thankful to have parents kind enough to let me move back in with them, and who are so cool that I am excited to get to spend so much time with them!

I think the strangest thing about this phase for me is that I am no longer a student. I have had this “occupation”, this definition of me and my current purpose for the last 18 years. For 18 years whenever someone asked me what I did my response was simply “I am a student.” For 5 of those years, the follow up conversation has included my passion and delight in chemistry. As of two years ago the conversation continued smoothly on to discuss my plans to attend graduate school and pursue my doctoral degree in hopes of going on to do research or “maybe eventually end up teaching.”

And I did, I went to Tufts and put in my first year as a graduate student. And I do still love chemistry, and I do still think I might end up teaching some day. It was fun to experience something new and live on the east coast. But something wasn’t right. I was not happy, and my body was showing evidence of the stress, getting worse every day.

So now I have aborted that plan, and am in search of a new one. And for the interim, I am NOT a student. I’m hoping to work as a barista, maybe a chemistry tutor, and most hopefully a Zumba instructor. I can’t actually wrap my mind around the fact that at the end of August I will not be getting a class schedule, I will not be meeting new friends in class, I will not be buying fresh notebooks to fill with complicated chemical ramblings, and I will not be following the routine of school that I have come to know so well.

But let’s not be too dramatic, I may be back in school come next fall. There is a perfectly good chance I will enroll in a different graduate program and be getting started in a year. Yet there is just as good of a chance I may never go back to school again. Should I discover something else I am more passionate about, if an opportunity comes by that is just too good to pass up – I’m takin it! And that will be the end of that. I told you life was crazy, and time fickle.

For now – here’s to exploring what life OUTSIDE of school is like. What it means to no longer be a student. (So far it means no classes, no homework, and no tests – woot to that!!)

Carpe diem, right? Let’s do this.