KMARTinAfrica

You know when you lose touch with a dear friend, but never intended for it to go on that long? That haunting gap of time. You have every intention of calling, making time, and you think, well, they’re probably really busy too. So time goes on and the disconnect continues and you feel a little guilty, slightly responsible, but don’t actually make a move, which turns out to be an awful strategy. More time passes and suddenly you wake up and it’s been 6 months of life without them. You feel this sense of loss because you think, damn, where did all that time go? Then you take a deep breath, and trust that you were exactly where you were supposed to be for those six months, around the people, the places, and the things that were right for that time. You accept it and move forward, and you realize you are “doing the best you can with your current level of awareness”. You give yourself a little space.

Kind of like my little space here in the blog world, where I kept meaning to, knew it would be therapeutic to, and had every intention to and now it’s 6 months later kind of scenario.  I’ve wanted to write, here in this little space, and tried to several times, yet, the words weren’t there. I realize now, I was dealing with a lot: grief and loss after leaving life Africa, navigating the many transitions, moving back to SF a place that was so familiar yet felt so foreign, and the fear I felt before my first day of graduate school and all the what-ifs.  I didn’t have words for some of my closest friends who were the ones I verbally processed so much of life with.  I thought maybe I had hardened, or that I wasn’t letting people in.  I had an epiphany one night when a good friend asked me, “Katie, could it be that you’re still in a place of figuring out the words for yourself, and that maybe it’s not that you’re closed off, it’s that you are making sense of things for yourself and that maybe it’s okay to be a little confused right now?” That was exactly it.  I realized I needed to give myself a little space to be confused.  While it wasn’t on my blog, I found writing to be the thing that’s helped me find my way these past months. I’ve spent time filling the pages of my journal, writing a little poetry, a little (novice) song writing, and mostly a whole lot of stream of consciousness emails to some dear friends. So, here I am, back to the blog, after a little space and time to find some words.

So, I guess, I’m learning to give myself space for these things. Space to process, space not to be so hard on myself. Space to take really good care of myself. Space to face the pain. Space to face my shortcomings, and face them honestly. Space to let people love me and to believe that they love me as much as they say they do. Space for art and creating without fear. Space for some really good hearty belly laughs. Space to breath. Space to risk, to relentlessly pursue that beckoning, that nudging, that woman I know I’m meant to to become. Space to trust that God is quietly working things out in the midst of the mess of it all.

Last night, while taking sporadic breaks of writing papers, and perusing some favorite blogs: I stumbled across this gem. I found it to be so beautifully fitting with so much of the process I’ve been going through. As I read, I realized that his words were articulating many of the things my insides had felt, but still didn’t have words to describe.

And here’s what his words helped me formulate: that, yes, this whole risk taking, pursuing an authentic life thing, it’s gonna feel uncomfortable for some of the time, or maybe a lot of the time. That yes, I’m going to have some days of second-guessing-after-math that’s felt after big risks. It’s realizing the choice to risk means we let go of something, and there’s some open space there. That yes, that space can be scary as hell. And I’m seeing that sometimes those scary days are part of the gig, it means that letting go might leave some open space and a lot of the time that space is ripe for all the hurt to flood in. And I agree with Blaine: it sounds SO terrible: pain. Ya know, that please.God.make.it.stop.this.is.so.uncomfortable.kind.of.pain. I usually want to get busy real fast, or find something that will numb this whole “I want to live authentically crap”. But then I get through it and realize that, “this is the space I most want to live in”. I make it to the other side, and I learn that I survive, and maybe it’s not always a happy ending, and maybe it’s all kinds of uncomfortable, but I’m seeing that it’s crazy beautiful, maybe in the way I least expect. And I realize that pain, and life, and facing it, and risking: are really those morsels of life that make it mean the most. The risks of my life to date, big and small, have brought forth some of my most treasured gifts. So i’m going to settle in here for awhile. Give myself some space and stay long enough to watch my world fill with new beauty and shape.

“Remember, Remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.” ~Sylvia Plath

These words from Sylvia Plath keep ringing in my ear lately….and the reminder to savor, savor, savor. Funny, I read this line from Sylvia when I first got to Uganda, and I thought, “YES, be HERE, be PRESENT, CLING to every last moment”. A friend of mine moved to Austria close to the same time I moved to Africa, and declared this to be the year to “Savor”, to hold onto each new moment, experience, and new face. And here I am, 7 months have passed and 7 weeks remain of my time in Uganda, it’s hard to believe. These morsels of wisdom I heard 7 months ago keep ringing in my mind as of late…..savor, be present, cling to these experiences, live, feel, be alive….here and now in Africa. Don’t get ahead of myself too much to what awaits me in 7-ish weeks, just let myself take in every last beautiful moment of this journey I’m on. Admittedly, it’s been more of a challenge lately to be in the moment as I’ve had a string of trying incidences, from someone trying to steal my purse last night to my computer dying to getting attacked by my shower head to developing a fungus on my skin. So, I’ve been fighting to be present, to savor, to let myself bask in the richness of life here, and when I fight for it and move past the skin fungi and thieves who try to steal purses, it’s honestly pretty easy to revel in the fullness of it all, and I end up pausing and feeling incredibly overwhelmed with how blessed and lucky I am to be here.

I had this sense of “overwhelm” on the bus ride to Gulu last Thursday, the wind in my face, the green and lush landscape of Uganda, and then the stars at night…..the clear bright, beautiful amazing stars. I literally stuck my head out the window to soak it all in, and just felt fully and truly alive. I kept repeating “savor, savor, savor” in my head as I ran on the dirt roads in Gulu on Saturday and a pack of adorable acholi kids came running alongside me, mostly probably to mock the “mono (white person)”….but I looked down and saw some of the brightest smiles and precious faces and just thought….savor this. I reveled in my happy place all friday night as a group of friends got together for a “pop icon dance party” and we danced for hours upon hours in an african hut….. I had to stop and realize several moments that night, that no, I was not dreaming, this was really happening. Sunday afternoon I felt more in the “now” than ever when I visited the Purse of Hope girls at boarding school for visiting day…it had been a month since I had last seen them and the burst of LIFE I felt in seeing them, seeing their smiles, and hearing about their lives brought such a sweet sweet sense of gratitude. Gratitude to be a part of their lives, gratitude to have a capacity to love so deeply, gratitude to see them doing so well and to see them making the most of the opportunity they’ve been given. Last week at Purse of Hope, as I sat designing and working on paper beads, and talking with my co-workers, I felt such a sense of deep community, relationship, and purpose. I reveled in the gift of realizing….wow….I love jewelry making, who would’ve thought? And cherished the laughter and the bonding and connection I was experiencing with the women I work with who I have grown so quickly to love.

So here’s to reveling, to cherishing, to savoring, to being here….now, and clinging to every last moment these 7 weeks bring.

Here’s a video I put together to capture my last month and a half in Gulu hanging out with the Purse of Hope girls. I am so BLESSED!

It’s official, I’m a Gulu resident! Gulu is in northern Uganda, a beautiful and small little town that has faced awful war and fighting in past years. I am working with the Purse of Hope, Gulu home here. It’s been one week of life in Gulu, and I’m learning to love the peaceful, simple, and quiet ways of this place. I am able to hear myself think a little bit clearer, and it’s a little uncomfortable, but I’m learning to embrace it and dare I say: LOVE IT. The girls I’m working with here at Purse of Hope are absolutely incredible. Once again, I am humbled and thankful to be working with such courageous, remarkable, and dynamic women. Their lives are such a beautiful testimony of God’s goodness. I love the sweet community here in Gulu as well, there are a few girlfriends I have met here I am “doing life with” and am deeply aware of God’s goodness in putting these incredible friends here alongside me. I am living on a compound with some amazing people….my dream come true….communal living! I am running three times a week on dirt roads and swallowing a lot of mosquitoes in the process, learning to “fetch water” aka filling a 50lbs jerry can of water and carrying it a 1/2 mile (translation: my arms are going to be BUFF!), learning to be okay with the fact that it might not really ever feel like Christmas here, breathing in deep the stars at night, and showing up each day at Purse of Hope praying that God would use me in the exact capacity He desires.

I think the quiet brings out the stuff that I might not want to face. I think this is really good. This morning I was reading and reflecting and realized that some of my past struggles are still that “monkey on my back”, you know, the default place of weakness I run to when life gets tricky. It kind of scared me, the thought of all being lost: backsliding, the growth and progress and transformation and the hard road of trials that have brought me to the place of growth I’m at today, just all going away. That scares me. I also realized, that I am probably not going to have a perfect track record, as much as I would like to, and humans, and this world just happen to have some broken pieces. I started to state truth to myself: that all is not lost on a day that feels tough, that God has grown me, that God is using these broken and healed places in my life to help other people, that it’s true: “His power is made perfect in weakness”, that “He has redeemed me, and called me by name, and when I’m in over my head, He will be with me.” I had a moment of feeling inadequate in the work I’m doing, the sense of, “wow, I still have a long ways to go, and here I am trying to help others?” And then I picked up Henry Nouwen, and so perfectly, was reminded that ministry is mutual. His words jumped off the page and took root in my heart (at least I hope), and knew that this was exactly what I needed to hear today. So, I will let Henry say it best:

“Ministry is not only a communal experience, it is also a mutual experience. We are not the healers, we are not the reconcilers, we are not the givers of life. We are sinful, broken, vulnerable people who need as much care as anyone we care for. The mystery of ministry is that we have been chosen to make our own limited and very conditional love the gateways for the unlimited and unconditional love of God. Therefore, true ministry must be mutual. When the members of a community of faith cannot truly know and love their shepherd, shepherding quickly becomes a subtle way of exercising power over others and begins to show authoritarian and dictatorial traits. The world in which we live – a world of efficiency and control has no models to offer to those who want to be shepherds in the way Jesus was a shepherd. Even the so-called “helping professions” have been so thoroughly secularized that mutuality can only be seen as a weakness and a dangerous form of role confusion. The leadership about which Jesus speaks is of radically different kind from the leadership offered by the world. It is a servant leadership – to use Robert Greenleaf’s term *- in which the leader is a vulnerable servant who needs the people as much as they need their leader. From this it is clear that a whole new type of leadership is asked for in the church of tomorrow, a leadership that is not modeled on the power games of the world, but on the servant-leader Jesus, who came to give his life for the salvation of many.”

What a sweet piece of truth, the reminder, that my vulnerable places might just be the very places God can use the most in “helping others”. And maybe just maybe, that I don’t need to curl up in fear, but learn to embrace these little broken pieces as places where I might experience life’s deepest beauty. I pray this would be true in the way God uses me, that I would lead in a way where I am “a vulnerable servant who needs the people as much as they need their leader.” I pray this would be a transformational way God can use me in the lives of these women, and if I get it wrong, that He would gently put me back on track. Photo credit to: The amazing Kelsey Morgan

From the moment a soul has the grace to know God, she must seek
-Mother Teresa

The more and more I have tasted of God, the more I hunger for Him. I want to seek Him. I want to know Him. I want to know God apart from “religiosity”, apart from the “mess” I make of Him. Sometimes I don’t feel like seeking Him, and sometimes it sounds like a lot of work. But these days, I find that God is showing up all over the place. He is in so many beautiful moments here. I know that I am being graced with these moments: snapshots, experiences, relationships where I just sense the incredible touch of God all over things.

Moments like….

Meeting my Ugandan friend’s 85-year old Grandmother, and despite the language barrier, seeing her love pour out onto me….a complete stranger.

The selfless love I see the girls at Purse of Hope give everyday, to each other, to complete strangers, to God, to me.

Holding a live chicken for an hour car ride and then eating it that night for dinner. Seriously….God is in this stuff!

Then a few days later sitting next to two chickens on the bus for four hours, and feeling just fine.

The sense of complete contentedness.

Daily dance parties and singing with the girls….God is all over these moments!

Meeting a new friend and having her speak incredible, profound, life-changing truth into my life without really even knowing me all that well.

For the sense of sister hood I feel with my co-workers at Purse of Hope.

Thunderstorms that make you know there is a God.

The lessons I am learning….the realization that I am going to be a risk taker forever, that there is no going back.

Seeing a mother reunited with her daughter after 2 years.

Rafting the Nile river…the overwhelming sense of beauty and power and adventure. Getting pulled under a rapid and not quite knowing if I would come up for air.

Seeing a life transform….there is no greater joy.

Receiving a gift from someone who has very little.

Witnessing redemption and forgiveness in relationships.

I pray my eyes are opened even more to those moments where God shows up, where I can see His touch is all over the big and small things of day to day life.

I knew it would sink in at some point, you know, the fact that I’m a bazillion miles from home. The longing for friends and family, the ache to be around those that know me best. I was waiting for it to hit. This past Sunday was the day. I had just returned from an incredible weekend trip to Sipi Falls, a series of 3 incredible waterfalls in Eastern Uganda at the edge of Mt. Elgon. It was everything I needed it to be: an adventure, a retreat, time in beauty and nature, lots of laughter, connections with new friends, and moments where the beauty of the place overwhelmed me so much that I just stood awestruck totally overwhelmed at the holiness of it all. Then I got back to Kampala, and it hit me…..homesick like crazy.

It may have been the talk of friends here in Uganda who are going home to the States for Christmas, and the realization this will be my first Christmas away from my family. Or it could have also been the news of the San Francisco Giants going to the World Series, and knowing I was missing out on the excitement of it all in SF. But whatever it was, it happened, and I ached for family, I ached for close friends, and the distance from Uganda to California felt far too long.

I think moments like this are good. I think it would be weird if I was here and didn’t go through these pangs, I would be worried about myself if this stuff wasn’t coming up. These moments allow me time to get real, to get alone, to process. I took some time to journal, to reflect and to pray. To ask God some questions. To work through the aches. I had a chance to Skype with a dear friend. I was able to share with her the sense of longing for home I was having, and to share with her the way my weaknesses, insecurities, and vulnerabilities were blaring in my face on that particular day. She reminded me that in the midst of the weak place I was in that “God has me in a really good place, these weak spots are the kind of places where God really uses people.” I needed to hear that. We talked about living with reckless abandon. – risking, trusting, loving, hoping, believing, and sometimes crying and crawling. Pursuing lives that are “whimsical”. I was reminded that ups and downs are all part of that. I want to live a life that is risky.

I got an email later in the day from my mom. At church that day she heard someone share who had been overseas also working with vulnerable girls. She shared about how on the days she felt the most homesick and weak, were the days she saw God work the most through her. My mom reminded me that when I’m longing for home or feeling inadequate, those might just be the days God will do His best work through me.

Refreshment to my soul. The sweetness of God was showing up in the midst of my homesickness. Through my dear friend and my mom, the reminder, that I’m in a really good place.

My experiences and emotions here in Africa have been more raw than anything I’ve ever experienced. I am finding that things are clearer because of the rawness. The joy you experience, the depth of relationships, the pain, the passion, and the obvious flaws in myself that are being worked out. I am seeing that my vulnerabilities and weaknesses I had back home, are still there….surprise….Katie Martin is still Katie Martin whether in San Francisco or Uganda! It’s just that I’m able to see my weaknesses in a clearer light, with a better lens. So, with that, I am able to face them, deal with them, and I think because of that, God is able to work a little bit more intensely. I caught a glimpse of this last night. I saw Eat, Pray, Love for the second time…..my first Uganda movie theater experience! The first time I saw it was sometime in August back in San Francisco. I remember feeling so vulnerable that day; I was going through some tough stuff. You know when you revisit the same thing at a later time and realize you are changed? Well, that happened last night. I revisited Eat, Pray, Love for a second time and was reminded of the pain I had in my heart back in August, and realized that pain is not really there anymore….I couldn’t believe how much more whole my heart felt. I realized that God is healing me, that my aching has been healing so so quickly. I realized that even though I don’t see it every day, God’s been doing some serious work in the last two months. I’m so glad to get to see that, and to realize…..God has me. He is working, He is healing me, and the sense of peace that this is exactly where I am supposed to be continues. His love is covering me.

On the second day of my arrival in Uganda, I had the privilege of watching the Purse of Hope girls perform an incredible talent show. They are all so incredibly gifted, and show such confidence in their skills! One thing is for sure….these girls CAN dance. We have actually just started dance classes at the center this week. Everyday this week I’ve been sweating it out with the girls, and learning how to dance….UGANDA style. We are working on a dance routine to the gospel song, “STOMP”. I’m loving it!

Here’s a video I made with some of the highlights from the talent show…