See Something More

I just packed a suitcase for what feels like the twentieth time in the two months. I've borrowed four different cars, slept in (or on) eleven different beds (or couches), traveled to thirteen different cities, and been in the car for around 71 hours in transit between those cities. It's been a wild ride, and I've loved each day of it. I'm thankful for each chance the Lord gave me to share what he is doing in Burkina Faso and in me, whether that was a formal presentation or a spontaneous conversation. I'm thankful for each dinner invitation, coffee visit, Sunday morning (no matter at which church I happened to be), Pinnacle climb, and evening sunset walk. Being in the United States is a blessing because of the people here who love and encourage me, and perhaps that is the best Christmas present I could receive this time. Christmas has just been a little different, being out of a suitcase and all. Even though my family lives in Indiana now, the holidays still happ

Riding up the ski lift, we could hear an unusual amount of hoots and hollers echoing all across the mountain. Laughing, whooping, and yahooing filled the air as we went up the mountain on the first morning chair lift. Because you just can't ski in twenty inches of fresh powder without making some noise. We had 23 inches to be exact, which is crazy fun when you can hardly turn or steer, but you can point your skis straight down hill and spray powder up to your waist. My dad and I took advantage of such conditions to take some of the hardest runs through the trees where no one had yet been. I felt like I was skiing on clouds as I slid down absolutely effortlessly and silently on the untouched, untainted snow. I slid to a parallel stop to catch my breath. My dad had skied on down and I found myself completely alone on a precipice of stunning glory. At 11,000 feet, I could see layer upon layer of mountain grandeur, covered in new snow, strikingly white against the Colorado blue

"Are you ready to go back?" seems to be the question of the day. The answer is, well, yes and no. Not a day goes by that I do not think about the family and the life that God has given me in Burkina Faso, and I miss it. I miss them. I also feel like the mission that I had in coming to the United States - to be with my friends and family, to rest and be refreshed, to visit supporters and churches, and to testify to what God has done so as to give him the glory and thanks he deserves - has been accomplished. For those reasons, I am absolutely ready to go back. Counting down the days even. Yet coming back to the United States always presents the temptation to stay. I could be close to my friends and family. I could get a great job being a bedside nurse. I could advance my career, work three twelve-hour shifts a week and then spend all my extra money adventuring on my off days. I could make friends, have lots of fun, who knows - get married? The truth is, life would be easier

The children's minister told me to expect around fifteen kids on Wednesday night, but I think it ended up being closer to fifty. But that's okay because it just reminded me of Africa; that's what happens every time we do children's outreach. Multiply what you expect by about three and there you have it. In that room of fifty kids, I felt very much at home. I wrapped my pagne (traditional skirt) around my waist and started telling the children what it is like to be a child in Burkina Faso - the similarities and differences, their hardships and their joy. How school is hard and not a guarantee, how life is hard, how staying healthy is hard, yet how much laughter and happiness they find in playing soccer or jump rope or coloring. I told them about the kids' club that we host every Wednesday for the children in our neighborhood, and we even did a mini kids' club right then and there. We played some of the same games and sang some of the same songs in French that

As a part of Advent, I've been preparing my heart for Christmas with some devotionals that walk you through Old Testament stories that tell of the ancient longing for a Messiah. One such story today was the story of Jacob in Genesis 28:10-22. Most of us know the story - Jacob is on the run and comes to his resting place for the night with nothing but a rock for a pillow. He has this vision of angels ascending and descending on a ladder from heaven, and God speaks to him personally with a promise that he will be with him and bless all the nations of the earth through him. To me, the climax of the story is when Jacob wakes up and says, "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was unaware of it!" To quote the devotional that I read today: "We are painfully unaware...How many times could we, like Jacob, say 'Surely the Lord was in this place and I was unaware of it.' If we had eyes to see and ears to hear - what would things look like, what would they sou