"Woe is Me"

Over the last few months I've had quite a few "woe is me" moments.  It's easy to feel bad when you've got no money, no car, and no job.  However for the past few weeks the Lord has given me some sweet reminders of His love through some past experiences.  He loves to take my hand and heal my heart and He continues to do so.  I've decided to list some of the ways that I've felt so loved over the years in one way or another.

• Parents who love enough to let go... even at the age of 16
• Friends who stepped up as family when I was without mine
• Strong church family ties
• True brothers and sisters in Christ who continue to love me in spite of myself
• A sweet kiss on a difficult day
• My brother's nonjudgemental heart
• An airplane ticket purchased by (at the time) new friends so I could fly across the country and visit for a weekend
• College roommate... best friend, sister
• My family's open door and support right now
• Nieces who melt my heart... even on their naughtiest days
• Texts, calls, and love from my African family
• Bitter torrents of tears falling from students eyes (and mine) as I say goodbye
• Youth kids sending packages of love 9,000 miles
• A good friend holding me after I wrecked my car at 18 years old
• A nutcracker in my mailbox
• Little notes around my room from my nieces that say "I love you" in sloppy 4/7 year old hand writing
• Support of parents through bad choices and financial mistakes
• A boyfriend taking my hand knowing my palms will be sweaty... thank you Dad for those genes
• Parents of youth encouraging and trusting
• 19 year olds who traveled 9,000 miles to see me and experience a bit of my life in UG
• Roommates who wake up at 5:30am to pray with you
• Mentors/friends that have stuck around for 15 years to love and encourage
• People who know my faults and sins, yet continue to love and help me grow
• A brother-in-law who doesn't let me sulk or leave me alone, even if he knows it'll end in tears
• An awesome traditional outfit given to me as a gift from my students and their family
• Henna
• Youth kids who run and jump just because I show up
• Friends of the family who opened their home
• Extended family gatherings when my family is far
• A gathering of 4 friends... in Christ during one of the most trying times of our friendships
• A mix tape gift
• Meals served by those with much less than me
• Life and culture lessons from Sudanese brothers
• A pizza from my favorite place thanks to my sister
• Baby E's response to me
• My mom sleeping at the hospital with me after my appendix ruptured
• My dad pushing us to do our best from gymnastics to soccer to choir
• My dad pushing through each day, calling to check up, putting me first despite his suffering
• My mom always giving everything she has... even giving what she doesn't have.  Selfless
• My big sister standing up to a bully for me
• My little brother, trusting implicitly 
• My "Africa mom" taking care of me after a little surgery
• People protecting me during tense times of rioting
• Being welcomed into a family and cared for well... especially when I tore a ligament in my knee and dislocated my thumb.  Volleyball is extreme with the Ackers.
• Studio_10

The list could go on and on.  Usually when I've exhausted myself from job hunting for the day, I spend some time with the Lord.  For some reason during my prayer times each of these situations or people have made their way in at some point, so I thought I'd write some of them.  Mostly this is a reminder for me to look at if a "woe is me" day pops up anytime soon. 

Guns are scary... to say the least

Yesterday I got in my mom's car and headed to church on about 3.5 hours of sleep.  I almost hit snooze and rolled back over, but I was excited to get to church.  I got myself some caffeine and prayed for no head-bobbing during the service.  I was incredibly refreshed by the songs, but more importantly because they were so familiar to me I was able to be focused only on singing praises to the King.  The sermon was very good and thought provoking.  After church I got to talk to a very special friend with a huge heart for missions and then I headed to the basement to help lead the youth Bible study.  We're in Acts right now and I happen to love talking about the early Church and it's growth and development.  The drive home was gorgeous and the weather was warmer than expected.

When I finally got home my sister and brother-in-law were going trap (clay pigeon) shooting and I made the last minute decision to tag along with them.  I shot a gun for the first time in my life.  I don't know what kinds of guns I shot, but I know it's a shot gun range.  I shot 2 rifles and a revolver (that they put small shot gun shells in).  First of all, yes my shoulder is pretty sore today.  The kick back wasn't horrible, but definitely enough to bruise me.  

As my bro-in-law showed me how to hold it, where the safety was, and how to hit my target my adrenaline began to pump in a huge way.  I had never held a loaded gun that didn't contain paintballs before.  My palms were sweaty and I was shaky.  Guns scare the heck out of me and at that point I was wondering why I had agreed to even go with them.  I decided I needed to fire it once before they threw a clay for me to aim at so I knew what the kick would feel like.  It scared me!  I put the safety on and handed back to my brother-in-law.  About 10 minutes later they convinced me to try and shoot a clay.  So I let him load the gun, took my stance, tried to steady myself, and took aim into the field.  I said "pull" (which signals for them to release the thrower and sends the pigeon soaring) and tried my best to follow my moving target and hit it before it hit the ground.  Somehow I managed to turn the thing to dust.  It was pure luck, no skill at all that I hit it.  Over the next few hours I probably only got a total of 7 at best out of maybe 20 or so.  I mean, for never having held a rifle before and shooting at a moving target it wasn't so bad.  After 2 hours or so we packed up, picked up the used shells and headed home.  I have to be honest, I was still shaky and a bit unsettled.  I still don't like guns and they still scare the poop out of me.

I left with thoughts of my friends.  Friends who joined a war to fight for their people.  I had ear protection and my ears were still ringing a bit.  My arms are sore today, not just from the kick back, but from the weight of the rifle.  I'm almost 30 and I should be physically stronger than a 13 year old boy.  How bad did their bodies ache?  How loud was the ringing resonating in their ears?  It was a crowed day at the range (apparently) and there was nearly constant gun fire.  There was never a time to feel relaxed, at least not for me.  How did they ever get through years of that, during a vicious time of war?  I was with my family in a safe place on a gorgeous sunny day a few miles from my comfortable home.  How did they make it on their own, without the support of their families holding their hand?

Last month I finally got around to reading "A Long Way Gone" by Ishmael Beah.  It's an amazing book of memoirs written by a child soldier from Sierra Leone.  I was introduced to the book by Shelah when I was still in Uganda so I bought it at a local bookstore in town and started to read it.  About the time I started to read it one of my child soldier friends was suffering with problems because of the war (in the past and the new situation in Sudan).  His problems were such that I couldn't keep reading without thinking about how closely Ishmael Beah's  life relates to the guys I know and love.  

About this time last year I was privileged to sit with each of the guys and record their life stories.  "A Long Way Gone" brought back all of those horrific stories that I had already heard before.  No, not every story is the same.  And yes, these boys often get lumped into one, even though every single experience was somehow different for each of them.  The guys told me as much as they remembered.  Some of them gave me very detailed accounts of what they had seen, heard, smelled, and felt, but others avoided the graphic details for fear that they would scare me.  They told me things that they said they had never shared with others and they told me things that they've mentioned a hundred times.  

But as I read Ishmael's story this time, front to back in just a few days, I realized that there are way too many of these stories out there.  They may all seem like the same story, but they are all so different!  "A Long Way Gone" is a book filled with hope.  That hope doesn't come until the end of the book, but it's powerful.  Yes, I had to suffer through the details to get to the hope... and I was just reading it.  Not living it.  

I don't know what the point of this is beyond that I think every person needs to read this book.  Raising awareness is huge and I want to tell what I know.  I've been entrusted with some intense stories of hope.  Some I can tell... others I can't.  I can say with absolute certainty that there are people who are on the ground, loving these guys every day.  Supporting them, showing them Jesus, and bringing them hope.  It's not just the child soldiers, it's the lives of hundreds and probably thousands of people being changed thanks to my friends at Refuge and Hope International.  

I want to strongly encourage you to read "A Long Way Gone."  You can borrow my copy after I get it back from my dad.  More importantly, I would love to tell you more about Refuge and Hope.  Click here to check out their website and see the ministries they're involved in.  Please pray about possibly getting involved in the ministries that God has given them.  You can be a prayer partner and/or you can make a donation here to help support the Sudanese guys (former child soldiers) in school and the refugees at the Center of Hope in Kampala, Uganda.

I honestly had not planned on writing about Refuge and Hope today, but the Lord has placed them on my heart and I know they would love for you to support them in anyway that you can.  Thank you in advance for supporting them and showing love to my family abroad.  

I'd Take a Bad Day

I tend to get overwhelmed when I have too many choices.  One day one thing will sound super appealing and then the next day something else will come up.  On top of that, I like to keep my options very open and I'm a bit of a people pleaser, despite my strong, independent side.  

That being said, I'm over this whole job hunting thing.  I've written way too many cover letters in the last few months.  I'm still in the interview process with an awesome church and I'm hoping it works out.  If it does, I'll be living at home and working and going to school full time.  At least that's the plan in my head.  

I've started applying out of state too.  Well, it's my intention to apply out of state.  There are a couple of promising jobs in Florida not to mention my best friend lives there.  I've also been looking in Arizona, Indiana, and Seattle.  What's silly is that the choices overwhelm me because they're so numerous, but I just keep looking.  It's somehow exciting to think about leaving here and starting something new somewhere else.  I've never lived in FL and my time in AZ would be completely different from my short stints there during college.  I've never been to Seattle, but my bff lives there and I've only heard amazing things about the northwest.  

With all of these different choices and options, it's hard not to be anxious.  I also realize I'm being a job snob.  I worked at Walgreens for 7 years and I have absolutely NO desire to work retail ever again.  I worked nearly every major holiday including Christmas... numerous times.  I'm not in college anymore and I don't want to do that.  Working in an office or in retail just doesn't suit me.  I'm way too relational for that kind of thing.  That's why I hate the job hunting thing... I'm just sitting in front of my computer searching and filling out apps.  It may come down to having to work somewhere I really don't want to while I get my Masters, and I'll have to just suck it up and eat some humble pie.  

The other thing right now is how much I'm missing Uganda.  As I drove home after youth group and coffee with a college kid last night my heart was incredibly heavy.  Yes, nearly every single day something comes up and makes me miss it, but last night was different.  I talked about it more than usual, I guess.  I tried to convince myself that I didn't miss it very much.  I thought of some of the worst days I had this past year (kind of silly, I know) and one particular day can to mind.  Everything that could go wrong did... cooking gas ran out, car battery was dead, speeding ticket (in an unmarked area), no electricity for days.  It was a bad day... one of those days where I longed for America where there's always electricity and as long as you pay the bill you have cooking gas.  Then I began to think about how even though that day was terrible at the time, I'd give almost anything to be there reliving it again right now.  Some of my worst days there don't take this desire to be there away.

I actually find myself getting jealous of those who are there when I have to be here.  I see fun pictures on facebook and get exciting email updates, which I love!  Let me be clear, I love seeing those things!  It just makes me realize how far away I am.  God is doing big things in East Africa, of course!  He's doing big things through WGM, Refuge and Hope, and lots of other organizations and I love getting hear about it.  I just miss being "on the ground".  I miss my family there.  I miss nearly every aspect of life there and while I feel blessed beyond belief to have been born and raised in this awesome country, I feel more at home in East Africa.  That's a bold statement.  It's probably a statement that will make my mom cry when she reads it, but it's not meant to be offensive or hurtful.   There were days when I lost focus and I'm by no means perfect, but I still got to see God do some huge things.  I still had the privilege of serving with a great mission organization and being with awesome people.  The refugees and Sudanese guys have taught me so much and given my insights into more than I ever would have imagined just a few years ago.  I loved serving them, I loved getting to know more about their cultures and more about Islam as well.  

You know, when you take high school youth kids on a mission trip they generally get more out of the week of building houses than the people they're serving do.  That's not to say that they don't do good because they do, but they also gain much (sometimes without even realizing it).  That's how I feel about living in Uganda.  Yeah I've loved on babies, helped orphans get sponsored, prayed with some to accept Christ, taught English, led youth events and discipleship groups, and lots of other stuff, but I still feel as though I've been changed more than I've helped anyone else to be changed.  I don't know.  It's not about checking off all of the ways I've done something because I absolutely believe that God has given me the privilege of serving in the ways that I've been able to.  Nothing I could do on my own would ever make an eternal difference, but with God things have happened.  

Anyways through regrets and tough times there were even better times and lots of growing.  The video below is just something I got off of youtube.  These are not my pictures, but I love the song... especially when I'm homesick for Uganda.

I'm always praying for my family both near and far.  Would you join me in this?  I'd also appreciate some prayers for my heart and the job search as well.  

"But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weakness, so that Christ's power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong."  2 Corinthians 12:9-10

Sickness and the Long Road Home

Saturday morning my mom, my brother and his dog, and I loaded back into the car and began our journey back to Illinois.  Since I had driven nearly the entire way out to AZ, I hopped in the passenger seat and my mom drove all the way to the east side of New Mexico.  I enjoyed being able to watch the scenery and take in God's creation.  It was a fairly peaceful drive up until that point.  We stopped at Denny's in Santa Rosa, NM at around 7pm for dinner.  This is where the trip became much less peaceful.

I got a buffalo chicken sandwich and it was yummy.  About half way through the sandwich I was pretty full and it's probably a good thing I didn't finish it off.  We got back in the car around 8, I was behind the wheel.  Not even 10 minutes after we got back on the road, I started to feel sick.  Not "I ate too much sick", but sick, sick.  I don't deal well with sick, sick.  Of course once you pass that final main town in NM, there's hardly anything and I knew I would need a bathroom asap!

I definitely didn't want to pull off and barf in front of everyone.  About 20 minutes later there was a truckstop and I pulled off as quickly as I could.  We were there for the next 30 minutes or so, I took some medicine, and then we headed off again.  I knew I still wasn't right.  My legs were shaking so much... you know how it is, right?  When you're feeling super nauseous and your legs get shaky right before you throw up... yeah that's how I felt.  I was still in the driver's seat so I would have full control of the stopping when necessary.  It's so miserable to feel that way while driving, knowing you still have about 17 hours of drive time left.  I was thinking about asking if we could just stop and stay in a hotel so I could be close to a bathroom, but I really just wanted to be home.  I never asked and we kept going.

About 3 hours after I initially got sick, I already felt better.  Praise the Lord.  From the moment I felt those first yucky feelings in my tummy, I began to pray that I wouldn't barf.  Then when I was feeling like I really needed to, I just prayed for the Lord to help me to not be so dramatic about it.  I've seen God do some amazing miracles.  I've seen a roaring lake, completely silenced by His great power.  So my prayers were very much the same.  I know it all sounds crazy, but being sick to my stomach is my kryptonite... that and crickets.  I fall apart when I'm sick that way.  I don't have any reason other than it's horrible and thankfully it hardly ever happens to me.  I was kind of even laughing at myself because my conversation with God in my head as I was driving and begging for healing sounded so pitiful.  People suffer much worse than a tiny bit of food poisoning and don't crumble.

I'm so grateful to God for the way that I believe He really did heal me.  I drove about 10 hours until around 6:30am.  I had made it through the night without throwing up, with minimal stops, and without feeling crazy-tired.  It was actually awesome to put on some Selah and sing loudly through the night.  (somehow my mom and brother slept through my LOUD rendition of each song.)  We stopped in Tulsa, Ok for breakfast and my mom and brother chose a Denny's.  I was NOT thrilled with the choice, but there wasn't much else around besides fastfood.  I ate a little toast and then went and laid down in the car while they finished eating.  My brother's dog was being ridiculous and not allowing me to sleep, however.

Once everyone was back in the car, my brother drove so I could try to sleep.  His silly dog would not relax.  He kept stepping and sitting on me, not to mention he kept breathing on me with his hot, smelly breath.  Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep and I was becoming super annoyed because of it.  After about 4 hours I couldn't take being in the back with the dog anymore, so I took over driving again in Missouri.

It seems like my mood was directly related to the distance we were from Arizona.  The closer we got to home, the crabbier I got.  Each time we stopped to fill up with gas or let the dog out the weather got colder and colder.  When we crossed into Illinois the speedlimit dropped and it just seemed like we weren't getting anywhere.  By the time we made it to our exit I was not speaking to anyone.  I was exhausted and tired of being in the car, especially with the dog.  My mom suggested we stop at Olive Garden for an early dinner since we hadn't stopped since breakfast and my first response in my mind was, "are you nuts??  I just want to go home!!"  No sleep and hunger don't mix well with me.  My brother was on the same page as me, so we stopped at a different, much faster place.  I ate my salad, half asleep at the table.  We dropped my brother and his dog off, and got home around 6 last night.

I held out until about 8 before falling asleep and I didn't wake up until about 7 this morning.  So no, the trip home wasn't as pleasant as the trip out there had been.  However, God still moved in huge ways and I still got to sing my praises loudly.  The last song that played on the radio before I shut it off here at home was Fingerprints of God.  He is so good.