"A Time for Every Purpose Under Heaven"

"To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven..." -Ecclesiastes 3:1

 

Life is never as clear cut and simple as we would like it to be; there are always tough choices to make and disappointments to be had, there are always goodbyes to be said, and time sometimes flies by too quickly and other periods drag too slowly. Yet the beauty of life can be found: in the moments of those important choices we make; in the hope we show through our disappointments; in our willingness to open ourselves up to future goodbyes; and in our ability to cherish the time we have, minutes or years.

In the past couple of years, I’ve learned a lot about living in and valuing the time that I am given. It’s never easy when your heart is divided (in my case between two separate countries) because it is always yearning for what you don’t have, but instead you can choose to focus your heart fully on what you do have. In doing so you will find that what you have is always better because it is made for you at that moment. At least this is what I have found to be true. When I am here in Uganda, I dearly miss those at home, and when I am home, I dearly miss those in Uganda.

With June arriving my time left seems so short and my departure already upon me. And that means it’s almost time for me to say goodbye to all that I so deeply love. I know that it is time for me to go home and finish school, and I am excited to do so, but I know that it is going to be incredibly hard to leave the life that I’ve been living here in Africa. It’s hard to imagine just picking up and leaving after working so hard to build a life here with people that I genuinely care about, and it’s hard to visualize myself going home because I’ve grown since I left and I’m not the same person that I was.

Yet these are nothing in comparison to the anxiety I feel when I think about having to leave those that have become my children in the year that I’ve spent here. While it’s difficult being away from the children that I love back at home it’s made easier because I know they have families who love them and will take care of them. The same is not true for these children. And though I will be saying goodbye with every intention of returning, I am still leaving them. I think especially of the three that call me “Mama Shannon,” Nettie, Ziyada, and John. They think of me as their mother, but what mother parts from her children?
 

 

My dearest  Nettie (four years old) still avoids talking to anyone but me and her brothers, refuses to smile or laugh without first being held, and is unwilling to participate in anything without first being reassured. What will happen when I leave her, will she continue to blossom or will she retreat even deeper into herself? Who will be the one to visit her on Saturdays at boarding school, to bring her juice and biscuits, to sit and hold her, to show her that she has been remembered? Who will whisper into her ear, “I love you very much, Nettie?!” And when she in the village on holiday, who will make sure she has eaten and is alright? Nerima has started transforming from the broken, bitter, and lonely child that she was when I met her a year ago, and is becoming a beautiful, whole, tender, and loving girl whose future is open to all opportunities. My heart is already breaking when I think that the day is coming when I cannot see her, wrap her in my arms tightly, and protect her and calm her fears.

 

My sweet Ziyada is still just three years old and only just began school but already is so mature and wise beyond her years. I will have only known her for under six months when I go but she captured my heart that first day I met her. An orphaned child living with a relative and her many children, she was unable to go to school, and was without hope for her future. I am amazed by how quickly she has begun to pick up English and with how happy she is, for my sweet Ziyada is always smiling. This precious girl whose joy is contagious and hugs are to be treasured has changed her name to Ziyada Shannon because she says she wants everyone to know that she has a muzungu (white) mother who loves her very much. I don’t even know how to wrap my mind around the fact that God could use me in such a way that a three year old girl would want to forever be associated to me. My time with Ziyada is just beginning and already it’s ending, even if it’s only for a couple of years it will be far too long. I want to see her grow and more than that I want to be a continual part of her life. I want to be there as she celebrates each day and every year of her life, and so knowing that I will miss the next few weighs so heavily on my heart.

 

My precious John Trevor is eleven years old and has such faith in God that it rivals anyone I’ve ever met. He is a boy who has nothing in the world’s eyes and who would be pitted by most people, yet he has what we all long for and really matters, a deep unconditional trust in God. I first met John when I was teaching English in his class at the school New Brainstorm. He caught my eye not because he was the only one who knew every answer *which he did) but because of the deep respect and eagerness to serve that he showed me. I have never known an eleven year old boy whose behavior could only be described as a child of Christ. In fact he constantly is an example to me of how we are all meant to live our lives. But I remember the day that God laid John on my heart and I knew that I was meant to be a part of his life, I came to his school one day and he gave me a letter in which he thanked me for bringing cookies to the previous class, his words were, “My dearest teacher, I wanted to thank you for bring food to class last time, because of you I did not go hungry that day. Most days I do not have food because I am alone and have no parents but that is alright because God brought you to me so that I would not be hungry. May I call you mother? I have no mother and you are like my mother because you care for me and feed me.  I want to be your son. May God bless you because you have loved me.” I cried reading his letter. I had done nothing but bring some cookies and popcorn to class as a celebration for my students hard work, and yet without my knowing it had meant something so deep to this young boy who was used to going to school without food all day. I know that even his faith was being tested around this time and somehow the simple act of me giving him a cookie was God encouraging and speaking to him. I don’t know why God choose me to be the one who could bless this child but I do know that He loves John very dearly and would use anyone and everyone to let him know. My John who loves to play soccer, has a beautiful touching voice, who will spend his holiday drawing twenty seven pictures for me, and whose smile melts my heart every time. My dear John calls me “Mama” and doesn’t want me to ever leave, but I must. I can’t imagine when I can longer visit him, when I can’t bring him food, or write him a letter. When I won’t see his whole face light up at the smallest things and see his great kindness towards others. How hard it will be to say goodbye to my precious son.

So you see, saying goodbye will not be easy and leaving will be even harder, for my heart has found a home with these children. But I know without a doubt that I was not the first to love them and that God’s love for them will always be greater than my own. That though I may not be the one to hold them, provide for them, and show them that they are loved, God will. In fact, He will do so in ways that I cannot even imagine and that will means so much more to them than anything that I could ever do for them would. He will be the one whispering to them; not to give up, that they are loved, and that He will never leave them. He will hold them tightly and calm their fears, He will celebrate each and every moment of their lives with them, and He will be their Father.

He is my Father too, and so I know that cares for me and my heart as well and will care for them enough for both of us. I entrust them into His capable hands, for I know that I will also be close to Him, looking to Him for strength and courage to face each morning without them.

L'absence diminue les médiocres passions, et augmente les grandes, comme le vent éteint les bougies et allume le feu.

Absence extinguishes the minor passions and increases the great ones, as the wind blows out a candle and fans a fire.                                                                     

-Francois Duc de la Rochefoucauld



 

 

Beginning Of New Things

 One week is all it took for me to fall in love with them completely. One week of caring for them for me to realize that my life is bound to theirs. One week to begin to understand more about God's plan for my life, than maybe I've understood the whole time I've been here. I'm not surprised though. When God wants to speak, it's always life changing and usually happens in a moment. Moments that reach to the very deepest part of your heart and stay there.

A good story always has a beginning, so I'll start there. In the village Zirobwe there are four children who live alone. Syrous is 11, Jophasi 7, Ronnie 5, and Nerima is 3 years old. Their mother passed away almost two years ago. Their father is neglects them, is abusive, and is hardly ever there. He has other families in other village and takes food and clothes from his children to his other families. So, Syrous takes care of them all.

When I met these children in July they were all as equally miserable as they were malnourished. They never played with the other children. They never talked. They never smiled. Syrus carried Nettie on his back everywhere and they always watched from a distanced. On Sundays at Sunday school I began to take Nettie from Syrous (screaming of course) and hold her until we finished the program. As the months passed the children slowly started participating more and occasionally one of them would smile (the older three only). Nettie stopped screaming when I held her and started falling asleep on me each week. Then came the day in December when Nettie smiled at me for the first time. That was the day when I realized that God was restoring these children's lives and that I was somehow involved. I fell in love with Nettie and started dreaming of the first time I would hear her laugh and talk, of when I would see her running around playing with other children, of when I'd get to dance with her. I prayed over her future and my heart burned for justice in her life. Two weeks ago, I heard her laugh and I saw her playing for the first time. I praised God for these unexpected milestones.

Then last Sunday we brought all four children to our house in Kampala. They will be going to boarding school here and so they had interviews at their school. They stayed in my room and I took care of them for four days. I gave them baths. I fed them three times a day. I took them to the medical clinic twice and held a screaming Nettie down as they took jiggers out of her feet. I arranged for Syrous to have a tooth pulled. I played with them. I disciplined them. I showed them how to use a toilet and then cleaned up the floors when they didn't understand. I sang them to sleep. I stayed up late to wash their dirty and soiled clothes. I held their hands as when we visited their school. I scrubbed floors and mattresses more times than I can count. I made sure they were dressed and clean every morning. That they took their medicine three times a day. That their teeth were brushed and they were under their mosquito net each night. I held Nettie each night as she coughed and crawled all over me. The days were hard and long and I never got enough sleep. I was taking care of four children who have been on their own for two years. Who haven't had parenting or discipline. Who have been through more than a child should ever go through. Who speak a completely different language then I do. Overnight, I became their mother, we became a team. I often got frustrated (at myself mostly), but I had help though from two of the other MST's, and I always went to bed thankful for the day.

Within the first few hours of being home Sunday all of the children were smiling and laughing. Nettie was suddenly speaking full sentences to me (she doesn't really talk to anyone else yet:). She had kissed me and told me she loved me multiple times. In fact, over four short days I saw these children open up, talk, and play, in ways that I've only dreamed of. Now instead of just thinking about Nettie, I was thinking about what the future holds for all of them. They are a family and should never be broken apart. I have just realized that I want to be a part of it. Once you've become a mother you don't simple stop being one; even if your children don't really belong to you. Syrous, Jophasi, Ronnie, and Nettie, have always truly belonged to God and He has been taking care of them long before I ever arrived. And I have no doubt that He will continue to do what is best for them.

 I know that I will be a part of their future. If that includes adopting the four of them, than I would gladly accept that responsibility and beautiful blessing. The truth is, adoption seems impossible right now. They still have a father who comes around sometimes. I am single and only about to turn 20. All things that hold me back from adopting them. But I'm not in a rush, I will be around for a long time. I don't need official proof, I'm meant to be their mother. Nothing will change how much I love them already. Everything else is up to God. I know He has a plan and that I can trust them to Him. Maybe I'm not ready to take them now. Maybe they aren't. Probably none of us are. The truth is I am at complete peace regarding our futures. All I am thinking about is today. Soon they will be at boarding school here in Kampala and I will be visiting them every weekend. It will be the best thing for them and I will still be a part of their lives.

I used to wish that I could change things for them. That they had two loving parents, and that they could finally be children like the deserve. But what this last week has taught me is, that God has the same plans for them and started this journey a long time ago.

 Just a few weeks ago, I was struggling to find the patience I needed. I had no idea what God was doing or why I was meant to stay in Kampala. The year seemed unclear and lacked a direct purpose. Funny, how quickly things can change. But God is always faithful, His timing is always right, and things have only just begun...

She Trusts Me!

I came to Zirobwe on my first day in Uganda, and I fell in love with this place right then. It would be hard not to love the people here, the children, the community, the hot days, beautiful green landscape, and blue skies. These are all things that I am immersed in while in Zirobwe, and I could easily be happy here the rest of my life. The longer I spend in Zirobwe the more and the stronger are the relationships that I build grow. I frequently take long walks around the village going to visit different families that I have gotten to know well. And even though I am nowhere close to knowing all of the children’s names (I still meet new ones all the time) I have put so many names to their faces.

One of the families that I know consists of three boys and a girl, and sometimes their father. They lost their mother earlier this summer before I came. The father is often away and when he is home he can be abusive. When I met these children they had just become sponsored and they were getting ready to go to school for the first time in their lives. The oldest boy was 11 and taking care of his three younger siblings, the youngest of which was not even two. He used to always carry her everywhere and she would cry when he put her down. None of the four children smiled much; in fact it was clear that they were struggling with the recent passing of their mother. The youngest Nettie always had a permanent frown on her face and would scream if anyone came near her. 

It took many weeks before Nettie would let me come near her and hold her. Even so the frown stayed and it always felt like I was carrying dead weight. Still, every Sunday when I saw her I would run up to her and pick her up. I would hold her through our whole Sunday school service, often getting up with her to lead worship or the story. Sometimes, she would even fall asleep on me. Our relationship was completely one sided, she only tolerated me. 

I’m not really sure when it changed. This whole time I have simply wanted her to feel loved. No child especially one so young should feel so hurt and abandoned. Each time I held her I would comfort her and tell her that I loved her. Slowly, she stopped squirming when I picked her up, and she was content to sit with, and unhappy when I put her down.   

Then this past Saturday something happened that I will remember for the rest of my life.  The sponsorship day Christmas party was at our house that day and all of the children who are sponsored came for it, including Nettie and her brothers. It was her first time in Kampala and I saw Nettie standing to the side looking very overwhelmed. I ran over and picked her up as I always do. I held her as we did registration and she fell asleep on me right away. I debated laying her down inside but I decided to wait a little longer. When the music started she woke up. I remember she started playing with my hair (which I happened to have down that day), and I gave her a big smile. She had never really done anything but sit and I was thrilled that she was playing with my hair. I just kept looking down at her and smiling. And suddenly, her face completely changed. The deep frown, which was the only expression I’d ever seen on this two year old, was gone, and in its place was a beautiful smile. As quickly as it had come it was gone, but my heart had stopped for a moment. I didn’t think that I would ever see this little girl smile; I didn’t know she could smile. Never has a child’s smile brought me so much joy.

 After almost 7 months of loving her she finally knew and understood how much I cared about her, and she was happy about that. Later, that day after she had woken up again I received my second smile, and then one more as I held her before she left. Nettie’s smiles are very brief but they completely change her face, and suddenly you can see just how beautiful this child is. With her huge brown eyes a smile lights her whole face up.

 

The next day was Sunday and we always come to the village on Sundays to teach Sunday school. It was the children’s day here so the kids sang and preformed a Christmas play for the church. I had been in charge of the play and was narrating, so of course Nettie slept on my while I did that. In the afternoon when everyone else went home I stayed in Zirobwe along with one of the other girls. I got to hold her later and again she smiled at me.

Monday, I took it upon myself to scrub her down, do something about all the ringworm growing in her hair, and remove any jiggers that she had. The first two were easy enough. But I had to call one of the other girls to help me remove a jigger from her finger. I have removed a few jiggers from my own feet (they are something that you can’t really escape if it ever rains while you are in the village), but they are easy to take out and not very painful if you get them out before the eggs hatch. The jigger we found on her thumb was very infected and it was huge. I held her; kissed her, and whispered to her while Nahni used a needle to extract the giant jigger sack. It was bigger than her nail and left a deep hole about half the size of her finger. She didn’t cry the whole time. I can only imagine how painful it had been for her.

In moments like those I wish that I could protect her. I don’t want to have to take jiggers out of her fingers and feet. I don’t want her to be hungry all the time because it’s just her and her brothers. I don’t want her to grow up in the situation that she is in. I want to do something about it. Yet, I realize that only God can really protect her. I won’t always be there for her but He will. And for the time that I’ve had with her I have made a difference already. Even if it’s just showing her that she can trust someone and reminding her how to smile. That’s pretty big. And I am so blessed to have been that person who was there to hold her. 

In years to come, when I’m thinking back about my time in Africa, I know that I will think of Nettie and of the first time I saw her smile. Maybe one day, I’ll even get to hear her laugh. It’s something that I’ll most certainly be praying for.

Here For A Reason

Psalm 59: 16-17

But I will sing of your strength,
    in the morning I will sing of your love;
for you are my fortress,
    my refuge in times of trouble.

You are my strength, I sing praise to you;
    you, God, are my fortress,
 my God on whom I can rely.

     Tomorrow marks the six month point of my two year stay in Africa. It doesn’t really feel like I’ve been gone that long, though maybe the unchanging weather has something to do with that since it hardly feels like its Thanksgiving either. But reaching that point in my trip does make me feel like I can wrap my head around this crazy plan of mine; I’ve been gone this long, what’s another eighteen months. I really have fallen in love with this beautiful country and its people. And I daily remind myself how beyond lucky and blessed I am to be living here and doing everything that I so love to do. I expect God to show up and He has never disappointed me. In fact, usually He blows my mind in the huge ways He works on the behalf of myself and others. I am exactly who I’m meant to be and I am so happy to be here.

     There days when I feel like I get so much more than I give. When a child expresses how much they care about me, and I can only wonder why. After all, what have I done to receive such love and devotion?  I want to share a letter with you. I was given it last week when I was at Newbrain Storm Primary school and it reach touched me. Reminding me of how the little things we do can have a much bigger impact than we realize.  The letter is from an 11 year old boy in my class at Newbrain Storm Primary school. Probably one of the brightest and sweetest of children that I have ever met, and I’ve met a whole lot of amazing children. I will mention that this letter was one of 8 that He gave me that day and that the others were very similar.

  

John and Me

           Dear Friend,

How are you? I am here missing you like my mother. I love you like my mother, because my mother died in 2002. But my friend you’re my best friend, and I can tell you about my life. Please, my friend, you are the one I’ve been waiting for, to be loved as a friend. My friend, I did not do my exams because I have no school fees. But as for me I am not really fine because since I did not take my exams I will remain in the P4 class. But I would like to go to into the P5 class. As for me, I will always love you as my mother because on Tuesday you made me not feel hungry. I am the best when I don’t feel hungry as I was. When I grow up I want to be like my Aunt Shannon and work hard like her, so that I can help people too. 

Thank you!

John 

And on the back of this letter he drew a picture of the two of us, labeled “John” and “Mother Shannon.” 

     I read this letter and started crying. Sometimes, I feel as if there is no way that these children can ever understand how much I love them and how much more God loves them. And then you get a letter like John’s and you realize that some how they do. It breaks my heart and means everything to me that these children whom I love SO much know that not only do I care and that I will be there for them, but that God will always take care of them. I work with kids who come from situations that are really hard, like John, who has no parents (his father left a while ago), is always hungry, and yet tells me that He always prays to God because He knows that God provides for him. It literally blows my mind. If I was in his place, I don’t know if I would trust God so completely. I wonder how a child can be so confident, when they have only ever been abandoned in their life. But that is exactly how strong and powerful and life changing God’s love is. It covers and reaches beyond everything and it cannot be challenged. And when you feel it, you know without a doubt that it never fails.

My Journey So Far...

 

Five months. It’s been exactly that long since I left Redding and headed to Africa. When I left two years seemed like a lot but time has flown. I thought I’d take this blog entry to summarize that past months. I’ve been to Mexico, Gabon, and now I’m living in Uganda. So far, this journey has been full of the unexpected and of great things. My mind has been blown so many times by what God has done and shown me. I am always learning; about God’s faithfulness, about what people really need, about what love looks like, about true generosity, about serving selflessly, and about what life should be about.

It hasn’t been easy, but it has been so good. I take one day at a time. I trust that each day God will give me exactly what I need and I don’t worry about tomorrow. I try to always choose love. I am learning to follow God’s voice each time it begins to whisper to me. Every day I am faced with things that are hard to see and that I wish that I could change, but I find peace and hope in the truth that Jesus came to save and set free. I trust in the work that He is doing.  I’ve been homesick. I’ve been burdened and weighed down. Yet God’s joy and strength are new every morning and are always more than enough. I have seen so many dreams and promises come true including ones that I had forgotten about. I am simply one of the people that God is using to show His great love to His people. I have never been more completely content to live outside of my comfort zone, and I do it daily. I have never felt more alive or so full of purpose and joy. This is exactly what I was created for; to love the least and the orphaned.

Ensenada, Mexico

May 22^nd- June 3^rd (two weeks)  

I flew from Redding to San Diego, joined up with our Envision team and we drove to Ensenada. Training lasted for three days and at the end of which our groups were supposed to fly to our destinations. I was on the Gabon team with seven others girls. All of our visas were denied and we waited and an extra ten days for our entry paper work to come. While in Mexico we built a bathroom for one of the local pastors, had children’s programs, visited an orphanage, went to the beach, and bonded as a team.

Libreville, Gabon

June 4^th- July 23^rd (seven weeks)

The Gabon 8 (as we were called) arrived in Libreville, Gabon on June 4^th. This was my second time to Gabon and I was very happy to be back and to see all of my dear friends again. I had spent the past year learning French and was surprised with how much that helped me communicate. My time was spent; working at the Hope House (a home for orphaned or abandoned children), at OSPAC (a medical clinic run by a group of Gabonese Christians), going on mobile medical clinics, and working with large teams that came in every two weeks from all over the world.

I also spent about a week at the Bongolo Hospital (8-10 hour trip by bus and 2 ½ hour trip by plane), though this was completely unplanned. I hadn’t even been in Gabon for two weeks before I was flown to Bongolo due to an emergency.  I had developed a bacterial ulcer in my left eye. Within four days I had gone blind in one eye and had started to go delirious from the intense pain. I was told after receiving immediate care at Bongolo I would almost certainly be flown home for more treatment. Needless to say I wasn’t ready to go home. I had come to Africa for two years and I meant to stay for two years. I had an army of people praying for me all across the world and by the time I reached Bongolo I was starting to see out of my left eye and the ulcer was shrinking. The next week was divided in fifteen and thirty minute intervals which was the amount of time between my sets of anti-biotic drops I was taking. Through this whole experience I knew that God was going to heal me and I was aware of the exact moment when He touched my eye. Within a couple of days I regained complete sight in my eye. This was the first time that I had personally experienced healing and seen God do a miracle in my life. The crazy thing was that during this whole process, I was okay with the fact that I could go blind. I felt so sure of the plans God had for me and I was fully at peace. But God did heal me and now I know Him in a completely new way. I know Him as my Healer.

Kampala/Zirobwe, Uganda

July 23^rd-May 2014 (twenty-two months)

My time in Uganda... where to begin; I may have only been here for three months but already it feels like home. Each week I get to spend time with, teach, play with, praise God with, feed, and talk with hundreds of children. These are all children who come from broken families and who are literally living on nothing. I have the opportunity to serve, love, and build relationships with them. It is all I have ever dreamed of. During the school term we often go to; one to two primary schools a day, secondary schools (high schools), a children’s rehabilitation hospital, babies’ homes, teach three to four times a week, have a program with our neighborhood kids, and spend Sunday in the village Zirobwe. We do children’s programs (praise and worship, stories, games, crafts) with the kids and sometimes have a feeding program. We also help with any work that might need to be done, for example at the babies home a lot of what we do is washing, hanging, and folding clothes. The school year is split into three terms here with breaks in between and our schedule changes with it. When school is out we spend three days every week (not counting Sunday) in Zirobwe.

                My favorite place in Uganda is Zirobwe. It is a village about an hour and a half away from the capital Kampala (which is where I live), it is home to thousands of Ugandans. When I first arrived we spent each week in the village and I got to know many of the children there. Usually, we do a lot of manual labor along with our daily children’s programs and just spending time with the kids.

 I love almost everything about the Zirobwe. I love the people. I love that it’s hot. I love doing hard work. I love what we do. I love all of the children. But there are things that make being in the village hard.  It is a place of extreme poverty. It is a place where a lot of people are hungry. Most families live on nothing. Their source of food is their gardens, which the mother or grandmother will tend to. They usually only grow basic things like matooke and potatoes and the garden doesn’t always produce food. So, many times they won’t have anything to eat. Most families live in a mud hut which they built themselves (I’ve helped build one and it’s a lot of work). They might have a spare set of clothes that they wear to church on Sundays, and may or may not own shoes. School fees are very hard to afford. It’s a life of a lot of hard work and manual labor. Getting water requires going to a well and pumping water into your jerry can and then carrying it all the back.  This being said, I’ve never met people who are more generous or welcoming.

When you go to someone’s house they feed you. Even if it is all the food they have for the day. Refusing the food is rude. Several times I have visited a family and eaten what they offered me, knowing that it was literally all they had. It is one of the most humbling and hardest things to do. Almost every Sunday a child will bring me food to take home. It might be sugar cane, or mais, or passion fruit. It is such a sweet gesture and I never feel like a simple thank you is enough.

One of the things that I’ve only started doing recently is teaching English. I teach at two different primary schools, Newbrain Storm and Victory. I’ve been teaching three P4 classes and will be adding a P5 class this week. I absolutely love teaching! It’s always been part of the plan to teach overseas and I am thrilled to have the chance to do so now. Last week, I gave one of my classes their first exam and they did wonderful. My class of 20 had a 90.8 percent average. I was so proud of them.

There are so many different children and families that I have grown to love dearly. I am so thankful for the time that I have to spend with them. I want to encourage, support, and lift them up in prayer. I’ve already seen some amazing things and I know that God will continue to surprise me. There have been times when a family or someone has had a serious need and God has allowed me to help them. There are children who I am finding sponsors for so that they can go to school. Just the fact that God is using me to meet needs here still blows my mind.

 

 I could share so many stories of what God has done here (feel free to look back at previous blogs to see a few), but this is already a very long entry so I’ll leave that for another time. I am so excited for the work that God is doing here and I really am just honored and excited to be a part of it. Thank you, for supporting me and giving me the chance to love these children and people of Uganda. You are all such a big part of why I am here and able to serve wholeheartedly. If you have any questions about how you can support me, donate, or sponsor a child please contact me.

May God bless you.