Big Opportunity!!!

Today and today only there is a huge opportunity for your generous gift to His Chase to be maximized in a big way.

Let me back up just a bit.

This is Gasaza, and I love him.  I feel like he's my child even though I didn't birth him and he lives 10,000 miles away.  I met him in March on a trip to Rwanda with His Chase.

Gasaza isn't alone, though.  He and hundreds of fellow orphans are forming a relationship with His Chase and learning that someone does care about them and their future.  Mark and Chelsea Jacobs didn't know what they were getting into, I bet, when they started this organization.  It has grown and blessed the lives of so many children in powerful ways.

It's really quite simple.  American sponsors pay for top-notch boarding school educations and help cover the basic needs of the least of the least in an impoverished country that has been healing from enormous emotional and physical genocide wounds.  These kids form relationships with their sponsors who encourage them and demonstrate God's love for them in real, physical ways.  For the first time, they have hope.

Most of the children are sponsored (there are a few spots still open...) but there are still tremendous financial needs.  It will cost $100 above and beyond the financial commitment sponsors have made per each child in order to send them to a Bible/English camp during a break in boarding school.  Some kids have medical needs.  There are a few older kids who excelled at school and are ready to enter University with honors!  Several thousand dollars are needed to give them that opportunity to study a career and take their place as leaders in their country.

Every penny donated goes directly to helping kids...there are no overhead costs for the His Chase organization because their board of directors covers those.

And today, only today, every penny donated to His Chase will be matched by an anonymous donor.
Your gift will be doubled!

It's a worthy cause that I believe in whole-heartedly.  Please consider donating any amount...even a dollar.

Donate here.  Select "Orphan Education Fund" from the list of choices, although if you accidentally donate to a different category (as I did, oops.) it will still count.

Genocide, Forgiveness, and Coffee

April 7, 2013 marked the 19 year anniversary of the Rwandan Genocide.  I wish I could have been there this week to hear the speeches, see the tears, watch as the memorial fire is lit (it will burn for 100 days, the amount of time the killings lasted.)  It is unbelievable to me how much healing has taken place in Rwanda in only 19 years.

The slaughter of so many people, at the hands of former friends and neighbors, is unimaginable to me.  Sadly, even though I feel like I have come to know more of God's Spirit over the past 2 years, the forgiveness extended by the survivors is also unimaginable to me.  Could I forgive my neighbor for murdering my 3 precious children?

I have trouble forgiving much less than that.

I read this blog post from the Land of a Thousand Hills Coffee Blog earlier in the week, and it really speaks to me:

Forgiveness Can Win

Mar 29, 2013 by 1000Hillscoffee

An incredible story of God redeeming broken relationships and creating community where evil was once rampant. Meet Claudette, Jean, and Clementine, the people who grow Land of a Thousand Hills Coffee and learn how through coffee, Forgiveness Wins in their lives. 

At the start of the 100 days of genocide in Rwanda, Clementine’s parents and five siblings awoke to find their cow dismembered with a note attached that read: “You’re Next.” Her father, fearful for his family, contacted neighbors willing to hide the children. In order to survive, the family dispersed to make it difficult for their hunters to track them down. Although Clementine hid with a family that was not in danger, they risked their lives for the opportunity to save her. Her father and three of her five siblings were not as fortunate. With in the 100 days, they were murdered by a neighbor, a man they knew as Jean.

After the genocide, Clementine heard that churches and the government were working to reconcile victims and perpetrators. During years of counseling, prayer, and support from her church community, Clementine searched her heart for the strength to forgive the man who killed her siblings and father. When Jean approached Clementine to seek her forgiveness, he recounted details of the crime so that hearing the full truth might enable her to free him of the guilt that weighed upon his conscious. Through the honesty of his confession, she granted him forgiveness.

The government gave each of them adjacent land and coffee trees to farm. The two, along with Claudette, an orphan who had also reconciled with Jean for his role in murdering her family, combined the land so they could share the burden and reap the benefits together. Now, working as true neighbors Jean, Claudette, and Clementine work together each day, tending their coffee beans, discussing the harvest, and making plans for the future.

Be a part of the Forgiveness Story HERE and Drink Coffee. Do Good.™

Rwanda: Food

Let's talk about one of my favorite subjects: food.

The first hotel I stayed at in Kigali had a beautiful open-air dining area on the top floor of the building.  I ate breakfast here several mornings.  I had scrambled eggs with a mushroom sauce, some kind of dried jerky-like meat, and fabulous ciabatta bread toast.

The second hotel I stayed at in Gisenyi also had a beautiful outdoor breakfast area overlooking Lake Kivu.  My favorite food here was the toast with some kind of yummy cheese on it.  That cheese had me wishing for some good red wine...at 8:00 in the morning...if that tells you anything.

When we were driving from Kigali to Gisenyi, we stopped at a roadside market and I bought something based on a friend's recommendation.  She said get the fried things that have seasoned meat and onion inside.  I later learned that "the fried things" are called Sabusas and they taste amazing!  They were cheap, too.  I'm not sure what kind of meat was in them, which may sound a little iffy to some people, but trust me they were delicious.  They reminded me of empanadas or samosas.

Each one cost only 200 francs.  In Rwanda, we exchanged $1 for 665 francs.  So that means each of those Sambusas was about 30 cents.  I can't remember the last time I ate so well so cheaply.

One evening in Kigali we ate at a gourmet restaurant called Heaven.  This is a NOT TO MISS place, so next time you find yourself in Kigali, Rwanda be sure to eat here.   The setting is beautiful.  The restaurant feels like a treehouse.  It has wooden floors and is open air amidst the canopy of tree tops.  The food is inventive and so well made.  Every last bite was packed with flavor.  I had the grilled filet of beef with cassava leaf chimichurri, green beans, and brown butter mashed sweet potatoes.  Not only is the restaurant a treat for the senses, it is playing an important role in supporting local farmers and preparing future leaders in hospitality and service by offering vocational training.  Check out their website for more information.

Before you get to thinking that all we did was dine at fancy places, we had our fair share of traditional Rwandan meals, too.  Several times we stopped for lunch at a location where a buffet had been prepared for our group.  I sampled vegetable soup, potatoes cooked many ways, rice and beans, exotic fruits, fish, and more.  Rwandan food is heavy on starches, but I find it tasty.

Passionfruit 

We also ate at a great Italian restaurant and a burrito place similar to Chipotle called Meza Fresh.  The tourism industry is growing in Rwanda, so there are quite a few dining options for travelers.  And of course, at every meal the drink options consisted of bottled Coke or Fanta.  Fanta everywhere!  I've never seen so much Fanta in my life.

I love trying new foods.  Rwanda has a bit of everything- for those who want to branch out and for those who would prefer to eat something risk-free.  But I did not see a single McDonalds...which was nice!

Rwanda: Amsterdam Emergency

This story is a little embarrassing but I'm going to tell it anyway.  I should have been smarter, but I took an antibiotic and a sleeping pill (which I had never taken before so had no idea how it might affect me) on an almost empty stomach at the beginning of the flight from NYC to Amsterdam.

It was an overnight trip, so I wanted to sleep.  Instead, I just tossed and turned and started feeling more and more miserable.  There was a lot of turbulence, which probably also contributed to the fact that my stomach started feeling awful.  With 2 hours left to fly, I started puking.

Side note: Throwing up on an airplane is not a fun experience for anyone.  I apologize to all the people sitting near me that fateful day.

I could not stop throwing up, and I continued to feel worse and worse.  I also was getting dehydrated and weak.  By the time the place landed, I was in bad shape and scared to death because after a 3 hour layover I was supposed to get on another 8 hour flight to Kigali.  I didn't know if I could physically do that.

The flight attendants requested a wheelchair for me and I hobbled off the plane.  Poor sweet Jackie had to push me to the clinic at the Amsterdam airport.  I figured there was nothing they could do for me, but I was desperate for help.

Thank goodness I went there because it turned out they could do something for me.  I got a shot in the rear that stopped my nausea within 30 minutes.  I started drinking water and nibbling on bread trying to regain my strength.  Jackie wheeled me through security to the next gate and next thing I knew I was on the flight to Kigali.  I slept for a few hours, and when I woke up I felt almost back to normal.

It was a crazy experience!  I felt so grateful and indebted to the rest of the team members who helped me so much.  Jackie was by my side the whole time.  Others were searching the airport for just the right type of bread for me to eat to regain strength.  Everyone was praying.

Jackie has pictures of all this by the way, snapped with her phone.  I was too sick to protest.  And today I find out that Jackie had a torn ACL on the trip and didn't even know it, so maybe I should apologize for the fact that she had to push me for miles through the Amsterdam airport.

On the bright side, the trip home was totally without drama.  And, I actually get to use the travel insurance I purchased to cover my emergency expenses in an Amsterdam clinic.  Cha-ching!

Rwanda: Jane's House

One of the highlights of the trip was going to Jane's house for a church-feast-dancing-Mark and Chelsea honoring-singing-visiting with students-crazy good time.

Jane is the hands and feet of His Chase in Rwanda.  She is the talented, generous, with-it person who is in charge of all kinds of things that I can't even begin to list or understand.  She is a mother to all.  She is the definition of grace.  She handles more in a day than I do all year, and she handles it well.

Our team, along with the 125 or so students that His Chase enrolled in King David boarding school, descended upon Jane's house.  We worshipped together.  The student choir sang some moving songs that I enjoyed very much.

After church we feasted.  I would find it difficult to prepare food for 150 people in my kitchen at home, but Jane's team of helpers made it seem like a piece of cake even without some of the appliances I consider indispensable.

Cooking with firewood, outside.  They made a ton of food, people!

And they even employed Jackie who, for the record, never cooks at home, yet was somehow roped into shredding the cabbage and carrots for the Rwanda style coleslaw dish.

Here I am with my first ever serving of true Rwandan food.  

After lunch there were festivities.  Mark and Chelsea Jacobs, the founders of his Chase received an award, several people spoke, letters were read and best of all some students performed a traditional dance.  I was mesmerized.

We had time to hang out and visit with the students.  I got to know Aurore (whom I had met the day before) even better.  She tried to teach me some songs in Kinyarwanda.  The day before she gave me an extensive Kinyarwanda speaking lesson.  She was a great teacher!  I have her to thank for quite a few phrases I was able to use throughout the rest of the trip.  I consider her a special friend, and I am so glad our paths crossed.

The gate into Jane's property was open, and the party was loud, so quite a few neighborhood kids wandered into the yard and hung around for hours.  After everyone had eaten, Jane put out left-overs for these children.  I walked over and snapped this photograph which has quickly become very close to my heart.  There are a lot of hungry children in the world.  In Rwanda.  In Texas.  How do we, pardon, I mean how do I manage to ignore it so much of the time?

I'm thankful to Jane and her husband Peter for opening their home and hearts to so many.  Their hospitality is a blessing and example to me.

Rwanda: No. 41

In Gisenyi, just down the street from the Noel Orphanage, there is an awesome thing happening.

Taken from the No. 41 website, here's a little blurb that tells what this group of women is and what they are doing for themselves and for others:

No. 41 started on a whim and a prayer in March 2012, with the intent of teaching young women from the Noel Orphanage in Gisenyi, Rwanda (ages 18-25) not only to sew, a culturally relevant trade that would always sustain them, but to give back to their community through a feeding program supporting local schools.

The first No.41 bag (for one child, for one meal, for one year) was sold in May 2012 and today No.41 employs 21 women from the orphanage, as well as 11 from the surrounding village. We have 9 mamas better providing for their 13 children and 17 of our young women are now enrolled in university.

No. 41 is about empowering young women. Our goal is not to give them the world, but to show them that God has already given them everything they need to go out there and take it. When you join with us, you are truly changing the world FOR ONE.

I was so blessed to visit No. 41 in person.  I saw their fabulous merchandise including their famous burlap "41" bags.  I stocked up on a few souvenirs!  And more importantly, I got to meet and visit with some of the young women who are attending University while working as seamstresses for No. 41.  

The purchase of a No. 41 bag like these provides one meal a day for one child for one year.  Pretty amazing, huh?  Why not buy one?

What was really cool, though, was when I pulled out the fabric oven mitts I had just purchased to show the girls I was chatting with and they all exclaimed "Valentine made those!"  Sure enough, Valentine was one of the lovely women I had been getting to know, and she graciously allowed me to take her picture with my newly acquired souvenir.

All of this came into being because one young woman from the US visited Rwanda then suddenly decided to move there.  She had this vision, this bold dream of action, and actually went and started it.  So the next time anyone is tempted to think that one person can't really make a difference, let No. 41 remind us of the truth.

Rwanda: Genocide Memorial

“The truth is not believable to someone who has not lived it in his muscles.” 

― Jean Hatzfeld, Machete Season: The Killers in Rwanda Speak

Years ago, I had my first exposure to the Rwandan Genocide when my book club at the time read Left to Tell by Immaculee Ilibagiza.  I was absolutely horrified.  What bothered me the most, besides the senseless murders of so many people, was the fact that I had no idea it had taken place.  Since that time I have read many other books on the subject and have become educated about that fateful 100 days in the Spring of 1994.

I never in a million years thought I would be standing on Rwandan soil, touring the Genocide Memorial in the capital city of Kigali.  I was deeply moved.  It's hard to believe this country is only 19 years removed from such a horrific experience.  

The focus of the country at this time is unification.  People are striving to be "one."  It is not lawful to discuss ethnic identities such as Hutu or Tutsi, and I sincerely hope that this effort is rewarded with the long term peace the people desire.   

The Memorial site is also a mass grave to hundreds of thousands.  The large cement slabs to the right are all mass graves.  The slate wall on the left is a Wall of Names.  Here, my group walks between the two.

The Wall of Names is a work in progress.  I am not sure if it is lack of knowledge, organization, or funding that is causing this part to be added so slowly.  When the project is complete, this entire extremely long wall will be totally full of names.

There are several outdoor garden areas, each with a different theme to help remember the causes and effects of the Genocide and to caution against that kind of act in the future.

I did not take photos inside the Memorial, but I want to recreate a few of the rooms with words now.  After following a path that led me through a timeline of events, I stepped into a dark circular room.  There were seats in the middle.  I was alone.  In sections along the wall, were metal racks filled with simple photographs clipped on with small metal clips.  Each display was lit by a floodlight from above.  The photos were casual snapshots of families, siblings, babies, grandfathers...the kind that fill our photo albums.  There were thousands and thousands.  Every person in those photos was killed in the Genocide.

I entered another dark circular room.  Four giant display cases sat against the walls.  In the first case there were dozens of skulls.  The skulls were all different sizes, many bearing visible trauma and broken places where I can imagine a machete or club smashed.  In the next case there were hundreds of  leg bones.  They were all the same type of bone- the fibula or tibia I don't know- but hundreds lay on top of each other.  They were all sizes, from all ages of person.  The next case held more skulls, the last case more leg bones.  They alternated that way and all I could do was stand and look in shock.  These were real bones.  These are actual people who were brutally killed.

The last room was the Children's Room.  There were large poster-sized photographs of various children and under each photo there was a bio.  It stated the name, age, favorite food, favorite activity, and a few other facts followed by the method of death.  As I wound my way along the path I read of a 10 year old that loved soccer who was tortured to death.  I saw an 8 month old baby whose favorite food was mother's milk who was killed by machete in his mother's arms.  I looked at photos of 4 year olds and 6 year olds who loved playing with dolls who died by being shot in the head.  Other children were burned alive.  Each story was a chilling reminder of the atrocity of Genocide that spares not even the youngest and most innocent.

It's hard for me to imagine hatred and death on that scale.  Friends and neighbors turned against each other.  The large, beautiful Lake Kivu that I gazed upon from my hotel balcony was at one point crowded with bodies and blood.  Churches around the country were filled with hundreds even thousands of corpses as those that had sought sanctuary were mercilessly struck down or burned.  The Rwanda of today lives within the giant shadow of this savage event.  It is miraculous that they have been able to rise from the ashes and destruction as well as they have.

Every year, there is a time of remembering and mourning.  A flame is lit for 100 days to mark the time between April and July when so many lost their lives.  May Rwanda continue to rebuild in unity and in peace.

Rwanda: Gasaza

In December 2012, before it had ever crossed my mind that one day I might travel to Rwanda, Cody and I donated to an orphan education initiative led by the non-profit His Chase.  Mark and Chelsea Jacobs founded His Chase a couple of years ago and one of the biggest accomplishments so far has been sending around 250 orphans away from the Noel Orphanage where they lived and attended poorly run public schools to top-notch boarding schools.  It costs $100 per month per child, so for $1200 a year, an orphan can receive room, board, and one of the best educations available in Rwanda.  In fact, once they graduate from these private schools they will be the elite of the country.  That's how good the schools are.

There is a huge stigma surrounding orphans in Rwanda.  They are looked down upon, scorned, passed over for opportunities and jobs.  It is much harder than I think we can even imagine to be a fatherless, motherless child in Rwanda.  Even at the boarding schools, they endure teasing from the other children.
And for their entire lives they have doubted that anyone at all cares even the tiniest bit about them.  They are often ashamed, discouraged, lonely, frustrated, afraid, hungry, and weary.

But when His Chase started sending these school-aged orphans to school, they also matched each one with a sponsor.  Perhaps it was the person who paid their fee.  Perhaps it is someone who was willing to pray for and encourage the child.  However it all worked out, Cody and I were paired with Gasaza when we donated in December.  Actually, we became paired with him January 14th, right at the same time I was making the decision to go to Rwanda.

I received his picture and name and was told he was at Sonrise School in Gisenyi.  I would love to say that my heart was set afire in love and dedication to Gasaza at that moment, but sadly it was not.  I was wrapped up in my own affairs, happy to pay for his schooling and say a prayer now and then for him, but I was cold and distant, unmoved by his plight.

But when I traveled to Rwanda and met this child in the flesh, I fell absolutely in love with him.  Now I think about him all the time throughout the day, sincerely loving and praying for him and longing to see him again, longing to encourage him and show him God's love.  I am ashamed that it took that step of actually meeting him to ignite my passion for him and the other orphans, but I am thankful God was gracious enough to allow me to travel there and receive what I could not receive at a distance.

Gasaza is precious.  He is only 7, and very quiet and reserved.  He reminds me of a timid rabbit, silently observing all around him.  I spent time with him on 2 different days.  The first day, it took a while for him to warm up to me.  He would sit near me, holding my hand, but would not interact much and only when I initiated it.  I hugged on him, spoke my limited Kinyarwanda to him (the youngest children do not know much if any English yet), stroked his hair, kissed his head, showed him photos of my family, and kept him close to me wherever I went.

The second day, he ran to me.  He smiled much more often.  I felt as if we interacted more.  I tried to love on him as much as possible.  And then the time came to leave.  That was hard.  We loaded the bus, and I held my hand out to him through the window.  His eyes filled with water, then he started visibly crying.  At that point I seriously doubted if I had done the right thing.  Should I have loved on him for such a brief time knowing I can't stay...knowing I must leave...knowing it would be painful for both of us?

Later I looked back through my email and saw my Henri Nouwen devotional thought for that day and wouldn't you know it spoke exactly toward my concern:

Wednesday March 13, 2013 

Absence That Creates Presence

It is good to visit people who are sick, dying, shut in, handicapped, or lonely.  But it is also important not to feel guilty when our visits have to be short or can only happen occasionally.  Often we are so apologetic about our limitations that our apologies prevent us from really being with the other when we are there.  A short time fully present to a sick person is much better than a long time with many explanations of why we are too busy to come more often.

If we are able to be fully present to our friends when we are with them, our absence too will bear many fruits.  Our friends will say:  "He visited me" or "She visited me," and discover in our absence the lasting grace of our presence.

I believe it is better to love enduring pain than to not love at all.  And I know I will visit him again.  I am at the beginning of a relationship with this child.  He doesn't know yet that I am reliable, that I will keep loving him through the years.  Over time the love between him and my family will deepen and grow becoming more trusted and more of a blessing with each passing year.

Meeting Gasaza was a tremendous blessing for me. 

And here is a crazy story.  Before I left for Rwanda, because of some photos posted on Facebook, it came out that another mom with a child in Lucas' Kindergarten class knows Mark and Chelsea, in fact, she sponsors a child at Sonrise school through His Chase, too!  We had seen each other at pick up, had said "hi" a few times, yet were totally unaware that we were both involved with His Chase and Rwanda.  She has visited Rwanda also, and has a close relationship with her sponsor child Patrick.  While I was there I got to meet Patrick, give him hugs for my new friend, take his picture, bring a handwritten note from him back to my friend, and also record a video message from him on my iPhone.  What are the odds that two random women with kids in the same class at school are sponsoring children through His Chase?  Or is this perhaps less coincidence and more of God bringing people and events together in his timing for his purpose?

Gasaza in front of the chapel

Standing at the chapel, watching the kids come running to see our team

Sonrise School

Timid at first, looking at the letter Ava wrote to him

I couldn't stop hugging this sweet child!!!

Patrick...my friend's child!

Rwanda: The Land

I don't know where to begin in trying to convey my experience in Rwanda last week.  I've given it some thought and the only thing I've realized is that I can't report it chronologically.  So instead of a day by day summary, I will focus on certain broad aspects that gather from multiple days.

This was by far the most jam-packed, non-stop trip I've ever taken.  I barely had time to write a quick daily email to Cody and I definitely didn't have time to reflect on the emotional and spiritual impact of each day.  I got very little sleep.  I saw and experienced a thousand new things.  I met many remarkable people.  When I got home Thursday evening, I slept from 10 PM until 7:30 AM.  I ate breakfast then went back to sleep until lunch.  I was awake a few hours before falling asleep (again) with Lucas on the couch.  I went to bed at 10 PM and slept soundly all night until 8 AM this morning and I still feel tired!

Here is something I became quite well acquainted with during the week: the bus.  Our driver Alphonse was a pro at navigating the narrow streets, avoiding the pedestrians and motorcycles, slipping within inches of parked vehicles, backing into narrow driveways flanked by brick walls, and twisting and turning along the mountainous road between Kigali and Gisenyi at night in the rain.  Driving in Rwanda is an art form.

Rwanda is called The Land of a Thousand Hills.  It is a lush, fertile, beautiful place known for growing coffee and tea, but all crops grow easily in the temperate climate.  The land is packed with people, so every inch of available soil is used.  One can see crops and gardens all the way up the sloped sides of the hills.  In places, cows are standing at perilous angles and gardens appear to defy gravity.

The capital city Kigali is a bustling area of neighborhoods, shopping, and business.  The roads are full of people.  There are workers and children in the fields.  There are many motorcycles, and even more people walking along the sides of the road.  The women carry huge loads balanced perfectly on their heads, some have babies tied to their backs.  Guards armed with automatic weapons are posted near government buildings throughout the city.  It's busy and crowded, horns honk in the streets.

The 2 hour drive from Kigali to Gisenyi to the West is along a stunning mountain road with countless twists and jaw-dropping vistas of valleys.  A few team members fell to motion sickness as we made our way.  Pedestrians flank the 2 lane road on either side for the entire drive.  Many walk out in the street and respond to the honk of the bus as it barrels through.

Gisenyi sits on Lake Kiva, a large lake that borders Rwanda and Congo.  Here is the view from my hotel balcony.  It is cooler than Kigali, and more rural.  One can find hotels in the major cities of Rwanda that cater to Western tourists.  Tourism is booming here.  The land is beautiful, and many also come to see the gorillas because Rwanda is one of the only places where they can be seen in the wild.
It isn't cheap...I think it costs around $700 per person to see them.

It was hot and humid in the afternoon, but the mornings and evenings were cool.  I fell in love with the land of Rwanda first, then I started to fall in love with the people.

One Week

How can it suddenly be one week till I leave for Africa?

There have been so many other things going on the past few weeks...big things that require lots of attention, focus, energy...that my departure has snuck up on me.  I just haven't had the ability to think about packing, traveling, or loving on orphans until now (as in 5 minutes ago).  Now is my golden time of preparation.

Now that I have the chance to prepare (and the necessity of it is screaming in my face) I am almost unsure of what to do.  Packing for a week in Africa is a little bit daunting.  I don't want to overpack.  But I don't want to find myself lacking once there.  And oh yeah, I also need to prepare my heart and mind to be an open channel of God's love...I only need about 20 years to get that done, not a week!

So instead of starting, I sat down to write this.  (Shaking my head.)  I'm usually a list kind of person but in this case, I haven't even been able to make a list.  It's like I've got some mental block about it, some irrational fear of even starting to try to get it in order.

But I didn't really begin this entry with the idea of spilling my packing and organizational woes.  I think I wanted to just reach out and ask for many, many prayers.  I long to feel covered in prayer during this journey.  I would be so encouraged by anyone saying that they intend to ask God for blessings on my behalf.  Several have told me already that they are praying for me, for the team, for Cody and the kids, for the children and adults we will interact with in Rwanda...I can't explain how that lifts my spirit, how it encourages me, how it comforts me.

I have no idea what I'm headed into exactly.  I don't know how God will use me.  I don't know what God will teach me.  There may be a mixture of joy and sorrow involved.  And as long as I'm being honest, the idea of leaving my family for a week (which didn't seem so difficult when I signed up for this 2 months ago) is now tearing at my heart a bit.

I need to get started, and do something with the massive pile of "probably taking this to Africa" stuff in the middle of the bedroom floor.  But I really want to start by placing my will in God's hands, and I think it might take the prayers of the village to help me along there.

Buy a Shirt

Can't be much more direct than that, can I?

I hope you will consider buying a super cool, vintage red t-shirt to help fund the activities we will be doing with the orphans in Rwanda over Spring Break.

Check it out:
Now YOU can Share the Love with the children of Rwanda, simply by buying and wearing a tshirt!  And, not just any tshirt!  A super soft vintage tee. These shirts are a vintage red, and are very durable, won't shrink, made of "tri-blend" material, and run true-to-size. Available in Child's sizes (XS-XL) and Adult's sizes (S-XL). Proceeds from shirt sales will go entirely to bless the children of Noel and the boarding schools they attend with supplies, special meals, and activities together on our trip in March.  Thank you for Sharing Your LOVE!

Go to this link to purchase a shirt.  They are available for a short time.

Going to Rwanda

Here it is, a week after I posted about my strange repetitive encounters with a far away country
(you can read that post here), and now I have plane tickets.

It still hasn't completely sunk in, but I am going to Rwanda!

Suddenly I'm getting exotic vaccinations, researching local customs, and practicing basic greetings in Kinyarwanda.

I will be visiting with orphans in several school and orphanage settings.   His Chase is organizing the trip which is a good thing because I wouldn't have the first clue how to plan a trip to Rwanda on my own.

I'm in awe, and just waiting to see how God uses this trip.

What Is God Trying to Tell Me?

Do you ever have those moments in life when a certain thing keeps popping up out of the blue?

It might be a word, or thought, or a place, but it's a clear theme because it constantly emerges around every corner, even in the most unlikely places.

I'm having one of those times.

And it is really weird.  I'll be the first to admit I have no clue what this means or what direction it might point me toward.  In fact, it's just a little bit scary.

My theme is a place that keeps tugging at my heart, a place that started tugging quite a few years back but suddenly has upped the force to the point where I am getting weekly, almost daily reminders in my face about it.  It is a distant, broken, beautiful place.  It is Rwanda.

Years ago I became exposed to Rwanda through books.  I had never heard of the country.  I knew nothing of the terrible genocide that took place there in the early 90's.  I read Left to Tell by Immaculee Ilibagzia.  She survived the genocide and wrote a detailed account of it that tore at my insides and broke my heart in horror and grief.  I read An Ordinary Man by Paul Rusesabagina and Tom Zoellner which told how an ordinary hotel manager saved the lives of his fellow country people in the most amazing bizarre ways in the midst of the blood-lust and savagery.  I followed those books with Machete Season: The Killers in Rwanda Speak by Jean Hatzfeld.  That book interviewed those that participated in the murdering of an entire group of people in hopes of understanding more about their motivations and actions.  On my Amazon wish list is a book called Running the Rift by Naomi Benaron.  Apparently my draw to books about Rwanda is not over because I want to read this account of a Tutsi runner who escaped the genocide and has dreams for rebuilding his country.

My connection with Rwanda didn't end with books, though.  Several years later after reading The Hole in Our Gospel, I decided to sponsor a child through World Vision.  (A fabulous organization, by the way.)  They help children around the world, but where did I feel drawn to sponsor?  You guessed it: Rwanda.  There was a young girl, one year older than Ava who shared her January 30th birthday.  It has been a blessing to contribute in a concrete way to Providence, her family, and their community.

A year and a half ago I met a couple that has become close friends to Cody and me.  A few months into our friendship my girlfriend casually mentioned to me that she has friends who run an organization in Rwanda that helps children.  I didn't pursue involvement with it at the time, but that organization came to the front of my attention at the end of 2012.  I don't even remember how it happened, but Cody and I decided to donate to His Chase to help a child in Rwanda receive a year of schooling.  This led to a bit of back and forth emailing with the founder of His Chase which helped me feel even more connected to this organization.

Then, this morning I get on Facebook and what is the first story I see on the page?  A link to a post by a college acquaintance of mine who happens to be a missionary in Rwanda.  I had no idea this guy and his family were working in Rwanda.  I jumped over to his web page and read a fascinating, moving account of the work they are doing.

After that, I sat back in my chair and shivered.  Why has my long smoldering interest in Rwanda suddenly jumped to the forefront of my daily life?  What is going on here?  Why does this place, of all places keep turning up?

I don't know what it means.  But I know I need to tread carefully and keep my eyes and heart open.

*UPDATE:  After writing this blog post this morning, I joined a dear friend for a work-out followed by a smoothie.  She had not read my post.  I had not talked to her about my crazy Rwanda-filled world.  Guess what she told me out of the blue?  Her entire family is going to Rwanda for Spring Break.

The plot thickens.