Just when I think that the world might crash down around me, something miraculous happens and our Lord catches all the pieces and puts them right back where they need to be. The second semester of school ended yesterday, which means HOLIDAYS for all 150 of my children. It also means that I HAVE to pay the schools the money I owe them in order for my kids to be able to return in September. As of yesterday we owed quite a sum of money, but upon checking the bank account, there was just the right amount to cover the costs. This means that we are NOT IN DEBT to anyone, which has not been my case for quite some time. :) Of course this will only last for about another month because then all the kids will go back to school and I will owe astronomical amounts of money all over again, but I'm not concerned. I have always told myself that God will provide. Well, it's true! I feel that as much as I love these little orphans, God loves them SO MUCH MORE, as much as I want what's best for them- love, spiritual encouragement, education- He wants it SO MUCH MORE. He has and He will continue to provide for these kids. On this note, thank you. To everyone who has donated time to helping me, treasures to take on the journey, money, or prayers – none of this could be done without you. To my dear friend Mary who sat with me while I stuffed my suitcases, made last minute trips to Wal-Mart to make sure I had everything I needed, and brought brownies for sustenance; to Judy Hawn who made darling little dresses that are now clothing little orphans all over Uganda; to the May family and all who have donated; to Brandi and Erin for spreading the word and being always joyful and full of encouraging words; to my family, immediate and extended and my sweet boyfriend for being a constant support system, to Williamsport Christian Church, Holy Family Catholic Church, Christ Church in Franklin, and Mike Whipps and the people of Leawood, Kansas for your prayers and continuous support – the words I use to thank you can never be sufficient, but you are truly a major part in everything I am doing here, you are the hands and feet of Christ in Uganda. Thank you.

As for my life, I am just reveling in being a stay at home mom, however non-conventional my motherhood is. I enjoy every second of wiping dirty faces, painting little fingernails, and making balls out of my socks for the kids to play with. I don't feel that my life is really different than that of most moms, except that I make 18 pieces of cinnamon toast every morning, get splashed by 8 little girls at bath time, and get about 140 kisses goodnight. Which reminds me to tell you, we added a new little girl to our family this weekend! Its funny to me that I have so many children in my house all the time that it just isn't a big deal anymore when we get a new one. Anyway, her name is Margaret, she is eleven years old and beautiful and, until Saturday, a total orphan. She is adjusting well to our crazy family life though.

My children are the greatest kids in the entire universe. I'm sure that every proud mother says that, but I MEAN it. They are so beautiful. So well behaved. So kind to each other and obedient and helpful. They have been through so much at their young ages. They deserve the world. And sometimes, they look at me with these big, curious eyes (8 pairs of them!) that expect me to give them the world, and I wonder – what if I can't?

At nineteen, mother of 8 was not exactly a title I expected. But their little voices call out “Mommy, Mommy” and I am the only one they have ever known. I am not always a good mother. Sometimes my kids are late to school because I set the toast on fire. Sometimes my kids just don't go to school because mom wants to stay home and play. Sometimes we run out of food and have to have pancakes for dinner. Sometimes we leave church early because we just can't all sit still and be quiet at the same time. Sometimes there are so many people in my house screaming and coloring on the furniture and riding the dogs and standing on the table that I feel like I just might pull all my hair out. Sometimes I shout. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I just can't understand what they are trying to tell me. And still they look at me with those big, expectant eyes, as if I can give them the world. “Mommy, where does the sun go when I am sleeping? Mommy, are all lady bugs girls? Mommy, where do I go when I die? Do fish go there too? Well, why don’t fish breathe air? Mommy what makes the sky blue? Mommy, why aren’t you bald like me? Why is our skin different? Why can't you live here all the time, Mommy? Mommy? Mommy…”

As inadequate as I feel sometimes, I wouldn't trade a minute of it. Because I am. I am inadequate. And I'm ok with it. Throughout the Bible God continues to choose seemingly inadequate women to do His work. Look at Mary, the mother of Christ. She was probably no older than me, no more ready to be a mother, no more ready to answer a high pitched little voice asking her a million questions that she didn't know how to answer. So I won't strive to be a perfect mother, I will just strive to be like Mary. Completely unprepared, but ready to take on the child that God handed to her. Her faith was courageous and her obedience was complete. She would submit to God. Regardless of the cost or the consequences. Regardless of if it meant losing her reputation or the man she loved. Even her life. Regardless. NO MATTER WHAT. “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary said, “may it be to me as you have said. She would be a mother. I will be a mother. As long as He keeps giving me these precious children of His, I will continue to love them to the best of my ability. I will be an inadequate, uncertain, loving with everything I have, filled-with-more-joy-than-one-little-person-can-handle mother. And I will love every minute.

my youngest, Sumini and her friend Christina

picking the stones out of the beans to prepare for friday night madness :)

making some music in the fromt yard

friday night fellowship

the food line in my back yard. we go through about 50 pounds of rice and beans in one night!

my daugther Scovia's 6th birthday party. (since none of my children actually know their birthdays, i wrote the numbers 1-365 on a paper and had them each select one. now they all have their own special day - they are so proud!)

i was so happy to see my kindergarten class! they are doing wonderfully with their new ugandan teacher, miss mary!

hellooooo from the "scabie family", now scabie-free and back at home!

all of these beautiful children are still waiting for sponsors so they can finish their education. your prayers are a blessing to us and deeply appreciated.

this is adam. he is one of my personal favorites. he has down syndrome and since no one here really has any knowledge about his disability, he is often brushed aside or overlooked. but God has taught me so much about love through this darling little boy. he loves to kiss me and touch my face (sometimes resulting in pink eye... but i wouldn't trade it for anything). he also loves to bring me presents, last week it was the neighbors' live chicken.. :)

my precious, ever-growing family. there are now 9 of us. left to right: margaret, joyce, agnes, sumini, mommy, mary, christine, scovia, and prossy. please pray for our hearts as we prepare again for my deparure, which we know is necessary but contintinues to be heart-wrenching.

love from us all!

Last night there was a rat in my room. I really wanted to go to the bathroom, but when I heard his little feet scratching around, I literally couldn’t move. I was paralyzed with fear. Now, I’m usually a pretty fearless person and have been told so on many occasions. Why did this little mouse scare me so? I don’t know, but it led me to think about how often, as human beings, we are crippled by our fear. We are afraid of change, of losing, of being hurt. We cling tightly to what we have because we are afraid of what might happen if we didn’t have it anymore.

I read a story once:

Once there was a people who surveyed the resources of the world and said to each other: “How can we be sure that we will have enough in hard times? We want to survive whatever happens. Let us start collecting food, materials and knowledge so that we are safe and secure if a crisis occurs.” So they started hoarding. So much and so eagerly that the other peoples protested and said: “You have so much more than you need, while we don’t have enough to survive. Give us part of your wealth!” But the fearful hoarders said: “No, no we need to keep this in case of emergency, in case things go bad for us too, in case our lives are threatened.” But the others said: “We are dying now, please give us food and materials and knowledge to survive. We can’t wait… we are dying now!”
Then the fearful hoarders became even more fearful since they became afraid that the poor and hungry people would attack them. So they said to one another: “Let us build walls around our wealth so that no stranger can take it from us.” They started erecting walls so high that they could not even see anymore whether their enemies we outside the walls or not! As their fear increased they put bombs at the top of their walls so that nobody from outside would even dare to come close. But instead of feeling safe and secure behind their armed walls they found themselves trapped in the prison they had built with their own fear. They even became afraid of their own bombs, wondering if they might harm themselves more than their enemy. And gradually they realize that their fear of death had brought them closer to it. – Henry Nouwen

“But God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of self-discipline.” When I imagine God creating each one of us and planting a purpose deep in our hearts, I never imagine that purpose being mediocrity. “You are to find me in the least of these.” Yes. “You are to leave your earthly possession and come follow me.” Yes. “You are to love and serve the Lord God with all your heart and love your neighbor as yourself” Yes. “You are to go and make disciples of all nations.” Yes. “You are to entertain strangers and leapers and tax collectors.” Yes. “You are to show mercy.” Yes. “You are to live a life of mediocrity and abundance, holding on tight to your comfortable lifestyle, lest you lose it.” No. I don’t think so. Its not there, thought that seems like the safe choice for many, including myself. Leaving your possessions to follow Jesus, entertaining strangers, it does sound a little scary, but what if just beyond that risk, just beyond the fear is a life better than anything we have ever imagined – LIFE TO THE FULLEST.

I’m not calling everyone to pack up and move to Africa, to drop everything and go be a missionary. I believe you can be a “missionary” right where you are. I’m just asking you to take a risk. Make a sacrifice. Do something today that you think you can’t afford, can’t be bothered by, don’t have time for. Stop and talk to a homeless man – if the risk is that he pulls out a knife, so be it. Play with your kids for an extra thirty minutes – if the risk is that all the work doesn’t get done, so be it. Share Christ with someone – if the risk is that they think you are strange, oh well.

Today you can choose to be like me and lay paralyzed in your bed, uncomfortably longing to go to the bathroom but unable to move because of your fear of something as small as a mouse. Or you can choose to take a risk – do something for someone, make someone smile, change someone’s world. LIFE TO THE FULLEST – it exists. The choice is yours.

For the last two days, I have once again woken up to a tiny brown hand rubbing my face. "mommy, mommy, mommy its time for wake up". Once again I have remembered how much I truly enjoy a big bowl of rice after a long hot day. Once again I feel, every minute of every day, humbled beyond belief. This morning, Agnes looked at me and said "There it is! It came back!" When I asked her what, she replied "that light that lives in your eyes". Yes. Its back. The light that lives in my eyes and the joy that dances in my heart and the smile that never leaves my face. I feel ALIVE. For those of you who didn't know, I am back in Uganda. Only til the 20th of August this time, but that is long enough to love many.

Somehow, this time i do not feel so far away. I have learned in the last couple months of living at "home" in America and being away from my "home" here just how small this earth really is, just what great a distance love can conquer. God has this whole word just sitting in the palm of His hand. We are literally neighbors. Funding aside, I can be here in just 24 hours. And in 24 hours I can be there. And people are people here and people are people there. They all need food and water and medicine, and mostly Love and Truth and Jesus. And I can do that. I can give people food and water and medicine, and I can give them Love and Truth and Jesus. And I couldn't ever do any of it except with the empowerment and blessings that the Lord has given me.

Many people view Africa as another world, and in being here, it would be easy to think that, it IS different. But really, it is the same. Human beings just hungry for God. Hungry for a purpose, for love, for life. They want to be able to support their children, they want to be able to work, they want to be able to give back, they want to be good, noble people. They want to feel important, and needed, and beautiful. The children want to play, and to eat, and to learn, and to be loved. We are all the same. We do not live in different worlds, but the same one. The same God created us for the same purpose and that was to serve Him and to love and care for His people. It is universal.

So people tell me I am brave. People tell me I am strong. People tell me good job. Well here is the truth of it: I am really not that brave, I am not really that strong, and I am not doing anything spectacular. I am just doing what God called me to do as a follower of Him. Feed His sheep, do unto the least of His people. People tell me they miss me because I am so far away. And here is the truth of it: I'm not. I'm right here, right here on this same Earth as you just doing what I can to make it a little bit better, a little bit more like His kingdom.

To all of you who help make all of this possible, THANK YOU will never be sufficient, but your reward in Heaven is great. And I feel like Heaven may be a lot like Uganda :)

a piece of paper tumbles in the wind. on it is a picture that we have all seen - the face of a white male with long brown hair, a matching beard, and a crown of thorns. a child looks up from picking through the garbage pile and snatches the paper. "auntie kate!" he grins, "this is Jesus!" i look around me. at his bright dazzling smile, a stark contrast to his dingy, torn clothing and mud-caked feet, at the small yellow flowers peeking through the trash and overgrowth. i feel the warmth of sumini against my chest, her tiny arms wrapped tightly around me; i feel the african sun that warms me to the core and the wind in my hair that refreshes and renews. my heart might burst. "THIS," i think, "is Jesus". this is Jesus.

there is a love greater than anyone can imagine that fills me up. and unlike anything else in the world, as i give it away it doesn't ever run out but only multiplies. and THIS, this is Jesus.

“Who will sing my lullaby?
Who will hold me when I cry?
When I awake and no one’s there
Who will sing my lullaby?”

Africa is a beautiful place, a place that I love to call home. When writing, I try o paint a picture of this Africa: a place where people love each other and the Lord, a place of hope and resilience, a place of blind faith, of renewal and life. But today, I want to tell you a story that breaks my heart. It is my hope that it will break yours too. I hope that tonight you will struggle with your warm shower and home cooked meal as you ponder the question, “Why me? Why am I so blessed?” I pray that this story could challenge you, could make you long for change. Africa is a beautiful place, but today, let it break your heart.

This is the story of Sumini. Sumini is a 5 year old girl that looks no older than three. Her cheek bones, hip bones, rib cage and shoulder blades poke out in the places that an American child would be cute and chubby. Her hair is not the jet black it should be but rather gray-brown from malnutrition. It is 4 am. Sumini is sleeping restlessly next to me in my bed (probably on the only mattress she has ever seen in her life) with a 105 degree fever. Sumini is dying. Just last week a lively, blissful little girl in my kindergarten class, now she tosses and turns helplessly leaving me to pray harder and longer than I ever have in my life. My heart physically hurts in my chest.

5 days ago Sumini walked the three miles to school with a very high fever. Guessing it was malaria, I took her to the hospital and was right. They gave me her treatment but only after warning me that with malaria as far along and sever as hers combined with sever malnutrition the chances of her survival were slim. So here I am. Just watching her breathe and knowing it could be last. And I’m sad. And I’m angry. And I’m scared.

Sumini loves to sing. When she does her voice is small and beautiful and full of joy. She also loves to color. She has gone through two whole coloring books and several of my walls since she has been with us these last few days. She is always eager to help; t\when she got here she found a jerry can and wanted to take it to the lake to fetch water. (She was shocked to learn o f a tap, that water could just flow out of the sink right there in my house!) She is learning her alphabet and to pick different colors out of her box of crayons. She is just a child. She could be your child. She could be you. She could be me. Instead she lives in a dirt hut the size of my little shower with her grandfather who is just about too old to move. She goes days with food. She walks miles to school even when she is sick. Before school, around 5 am, she walks a mile to the well and then back again with 20 pound of water on her head (and she barely weight\s 60). THAT could be your child. THAT could be you. THAT could be me. She didn’t choose the life she was assigned and you didn’t either. So what if the roles were reversed? What if you were small and scared and dying in Africa of a totally preventable and curable disease and she was sitting comfortably at your computer with a mug of coffee?

When the disciples asked Jesus what the blind man did to deserve his condition, Jesus replied, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned but this happened to him so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.” (John 9:3) Poverty is not a sin. I believe it is a condition, a circumstance that allows God’s work to be displayed.

Sumini smiles at me. In the dark, her black face blends right in and all I can see is the bright flash of her teeth. Sumini will not die – not today, because God has put me here to make sure of that. God has put me here to hold her. God has put me here to give her a sponge bath every hour and ibeprophen every four. God has given me the provision to be able to afford the malaria treatment her grandfather cant. God has woken me that I may spend tonight praying vigilantly for the welfare of this child. But what about the others? What about the countless other children who will wake up tonight scared and burning with a fever so high it will kill them? Will anyone notice them? Will anyone even care? Who will sing their lullaby? Who will hold them when they cry?

Every circumstance is an opportunity for God’s work to be displayed. Will we do His work? Will he be displayed in our lives? Sumini could have just as easily been you. How will you change your world today?

its this feeling of euphoria that overwhelms the whole of me. its the feeling i get after spending three hours slashing my grass in the hot african sun and then tumbling into my freezing shower sweaty and exhausted. its the feeling i get when there are 30 kids taking a bath in my house and soap and water is flying EVERYWHERE. its the feeling i get when i am woken up at six am by being jumped on by three beautiful girls who call me mom. its the feeling i get after a long and usually hilarious morning of teaching kindergarten as i begin the three mile walk home, sticky with porridge and covered in chalk dust. its the feeling i get when i pour out every ounce of love and passion in my small self and, miraculously, the Lord fills me right back up again. it takes control and makes me want to dance down the road and sing and the top of my lungs and run a thousand miles. it makes me laugh uncontrollably and it makes my whole body shake and my arms get covered in goose bumps. it isnt just happiness. it is this elation that only comes from the Lord. and in these moments, no matter how breif, i believe that i know just a little of what Heaven must be. and it is better that any pleasure that comes from this world. it makes me want to be a better person, to give all of myself to the Lord, because there is no better feeling than this basking in His presence. i want to stay forever wrapped in His arms.

and these moments, these little glimpses of something better and higher than the world that we live in keep my face smiling, my eyes shining and my heart dancing in my chest. it will keep me pouring out every ounce of everything that i have because there is no better blessing than the opportunity to give yourself away.