I want to explain the past couple days. I am having trouble figuring out where to start. What a whirlwind. On Wednesday we left to head to Botswana. Our original destination in Botswana was Seronga. However the only road in and out of our ministry location was swept away by all of the rain. As Beth would say, “I feel like things just stop phasing me.” So we left Wednesday morning for Maun, Botswana. The most God loving man, Sanderson, volunteered his entire day to help us get there. He picked us up from our hostel and drove all 13 of us and all of our luggage to the border. We got...

I want to explain the past couple days. I am having trouble figuring out where to start. What a whirlwind. On Wednesday we left to head to Botswana. Our original destination in Botswana was Seronga. However the only road in and out of our ministry location was swept away by all of the rain. As Beth would say, “I feel like things just stop phasing me.” So we left Wednesday morning for Maun, Botswana. The most God loving man, Sanderson, volunteered his entire day to help us get there. He picked us up from our hostel and drove all 13 of us and all of our luggage to the border. We got...

  My reflections from last weekend’s church service … On Sunday February 18th as 11 of us girls, who have known each other just over 3 weeks gather today, we do church differently then usual. We’re not in a nice building. There is no band, no pastor, no rows of people, no videos or offering, no team of people behind the scenes. Instead we gather in our small little “living room” with yellow walls that are scuffed up and dented, and a blue framed window that looks out onto a broken street in Zambia. We gather in a circle – some girls are sitting on colourful...

Muzungu. That’s what they call us on the soccer field when they have no idea what your name is, but want you to somehow come score a goal for them even though your eye foot coordination is about the same as that of a dead fly. Muzungu. That’s what they call us when we are walking the streets before they all rush us like a group of linebackers and hurl themselves at you trusting you to catch them…all 10 at once. Muzungu. That’s what they call us when they argue over us in the school yard. The arguing is done in their own language, but you can tell they are telling the...

Disunity.It’s a funny thing.It sneaks into the shabbily painted concrete walls of Namatama house.It pretends it belongs and whispers to us in the African rain,Convinces us it belongs,Comes up in our dreams,Raises the hair on our necks,Causes a facade to make us think all is fine when everything is not.It’s a lie he tells us.Because it lessens our power.Together we have the strength of Heaven’s hosts,But alone… Unity.It’s a funny thing.It boldly walks into our presence and calls us to arms.Tells us to look it straight in the eyes and own up and except it,Make it...

Shall we let them die without hope? Wasting away Wandering in the wilderness Finding no city of refuge in this barren land No satisfaction no security no safety. Shall we let them be afficted by their wrongs? Watch them try everything and anything except the one thing that will heap them Watch them pour into an emptiness they can not fill Throw in the needles, the drugs, the broken hearts, the broken bodies, the next rush Throw into their souls the things that kill And yet We stand silently with the fix The cure The only thing that turns shattered people into beautiful mosaics And we say nothing....