Whenever someone moves,
things are different. Somehow you have
to find a way to adjust to a new community and a new way of life. But when you move from a small missionary
community in rural Africa to a big city in Canada, it’s a little more
drastic. This happened to me about seven
months ago. I’ve received a number of
comments from people since I’ve come back.
Questions like “Are you happy to be back?” or comments like “That must
have been such a great experience!” To
be completely honest, my life in Uganda was not an experience. It was quite simply…well…life. To me, it was completely normal. It was normal to have people in and out of my
house every day. It was normal to know
all of my neighbours. It was normal to
hear a different language being spoken all around me. It was normal to go to three-hour church
services where everything was translated.
It was normal to walk everywhere I went.
It was normal to have water fights on Christmas day. It was even normal to be stared at because I
looked completely different from the people around me. But it was definitely different from my life
in Canada. And when we moved back seven
months ago, that became very clear to me.
Suddenly I realized that all the things that had been normal to me
seemed strange and exotic to all the people around me. No one thought of coming to the house to ask
for a cup of flour when they ran out. No
one stopped to ask me how I was doing as I walked to the mailbox. The majority of people spoke English. Church services had barely started before
they were finished. And no one shouted “Muzungu!” at me as I walked into the
grocery store. Strange… But in the past
seven months I’ve learned that these things take time. And although it can be difficult, eventually
a new normal develops. Normal means
putting on a coat before I go outside.
Normal means hot water and school in the basement and playing
piano. Normal means driving to friends’
houses and choosing between 20 different brands of six different varieties of
butter. Normal means planning activities
and singing English songs at church.
Normal means fast internet and electricity all the time. (Amazing!) While
all these things have become normal to me now, I still miss the old normal
every day. I miss chatting with little kids
in Luganda. I miss having a friend come
for a surprise visit. I miss the warm
weather and the number of times I’m saying, “I’m fine and how are you?” But for
now, I’m still learning to be satisfied with the “new normal” and I keep trying
to find it every day.
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Sunday, December 13, 2015
24 Names
A list of 24 names. All dear friends. Some are older than me, and some are younger, and some are just my age. And I have to say goodbye to all 24. Some of them I may never see again.
And so I write, pouring out my appreciation of their friendship and how much I’ll miss them. Trying to describe seven years of friendship in a few words…just fitting my life on a page. I try to capture all those songs sung at practice, all the laughter, all the walks, all the basketball watching, all the mistakes made in primary school. I try to hold onto all those moments of fun, and the hard ones too, because this is my life, and it’s some of these people that make it so special.
I tell them that friendship crosses oceans. I tell them I’ll pray for them. I tell them God is with them and with me too. I tell them I hope to be back someday. I write it, in case I don’t have time to tell them. In case when I’m hugging them goodbye, my words are stuck in my throat. I hope they’ll read my words and they’ll understand how much they mean to me.
I hope they’ll be waiting for me when I come back. But the truth is time goes on. They’re growing up. And they’ll graduate and go on to courses, or universities. And some will get married, and even have children. And they won’t be quite the same, but still just as special.
But what gives me hope truly is that even if I don’t see them ever again here, I will see them in heaven. And that still seems too far away for me, but it helps to know that we’ll sing more songs, and laugh some more minus the mistakes!
And then I deliver the letters. I smile as I say, “I have something to give you!” And I squeeze them in a quick hug as I hand it over. I don’t wait for them to open and read it. In fact, I walk away quickly. And some of them aren’t even around right now so my letter is specially important. I hand it to their sister or friend and pass on the hard job of delivery.
And then come some replies. And I smile and fight tears as I read sweet words of friendship and appreciation. I laugh as I remember old jokes they retell and old events they mention. I’ve never felt so loved. As I read I know I’ll never be able to repay them—every time I try they just overwhelm me with more and more.
I love them, these friends of mine: three girls two grades ahead of me who befriended me in primary school and never forget my birthday; one girl whom I met through email but soon became a close friend in the flesh; a girl whom I call sister and she always introduces me as such; a sweet neighbor lady who let me help her in the class she teaches…and so many more.
So I’ll leave. And I’ll change. But these 24 names will always be special to me, because of the people and memories they represent. And as I go I hope that our words will live on, that our friendship will not rust over years, and countries, and changes. Regardless, packed away, there sits a list of 24 names: 24 people who have changed my life and whom I will never forget.
-Kasana
And so I write, pouring out my appreciation of their friendship and how much I’ll miss them. Trying to describe seven years of friendship in a few words…just fitting my life on a page. I try to capture all those songs sung at practice, all the laughter, all the walks, all the basketball watching, all the mistakes made in primary school. I try to hold onto all those moments of fun, and the hard ones too, because this is my life, and it’s some of these people that make it so special.
I tell them that friendship crosses oceans. I tell them I’ll pray for them. I tell them God is with them and with me too. I tell them I hope to be back someday. I write it, in case I don’t have time to tell them. In case when I’m hugging them goodbye, my words are stuck in my throat. I hope they’ll read my words and they’ll understand how much they mean to me.
I hope they’ll be waiting for me when I come back. But the truth is time goes on. They’re growing up. And they’ll graduate and go on to courses, or universities. And some will get married, and even have children. And they won’t be quite the same, but still just as special.
But what gives me hope truly is that even if I don’t see them ever again here, I will see them in heaven. And that still seems too far away for me, but it helps to know that we’ll sing more songs, and laugh some more minus the mistakes!
And then I deliver the letters. I smile as I say, “I have something to give you!” And I squeeze them in a quick hug as I hand it over. I don’t wait for them to open and read it. In fact, I walk away quickly. And some of them aren’t even around right now so my letter is specially important. I hand it to their sister or friend and pass on the hard job of delivery.
And then come some replies. And I smile and fight tears as I read sweet words of friendship and appreciation. I laugh as I remember old jokes they retell and old events they mention. I’ve never felt so loved. As I read I know I’ll never be able to repay them—every time I try they just overwhelm me with more and more.
I love them, these friends of mine: three girls two grades ahead of me who befriended me in primary school and never forget my birthday; one girl whom I met through email but soon became a close friend in the flesh; a girl whom I call sister and she always introduces me as such; a sweet neighbor lady who let me help her in the class she teaches…and so many more.
So I’ll leave. And I’ll change. But these 24 names will always be special to me, because of the people and memories they represent. And as I go I hope that our words will live on, that our friendship will not rust over years, and countries, and changes. Regardless, packed away, there sits a list of 24 names: 24 people who have changed my life and whom I will never forget.
-Kasana
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Be. Thankful. Always.
 |
| ...tears.... |
But I think I’ve discovered a way to keep these memories from turning completely blue.
“Be thankful in all circumstances.” Yep. That’s my secret.
 |
| ...laughter... |
Whether happy or sad, be thankful, “...for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.” I fully believe God cries with us when we cry out of genuine sadness. And I fully believe He laughs hysterically with us (oh what I would give to hear what God’s laugh sounds like!) when we can barely breathe because we’re laughing (or cry-laughing?) so hard.
We just finished celebrating Thanksgiving last week, and we’re already moving on and looking forward to Christmas. What happened to being thankful? Do we really limit it to one day a year, a week a year, or a month a year?
Or do we limit it to happy times? Do we limit it to the people who gave so much of their lives for us?
 |
| Some of my friends in Uganda (2010) |
Here’s something to chew on:
Can we be thankful for not getting that perfect gift on Christmas?
For realizing we may not have enough money to last us through the month?
For a miscarriage...
For a friendship turned sour…
For a person we despise?
You know what, I’m choosing to be thankful for every moment, every second I got to spend here in Africa; and still get to! I still have a little more than five weeks left to go!
I’m choosing to be thankful for every cultural misunderstanding, every tear I’ve cried or caused to cry, every drop of sweat accumulated in a stuffy building during a long, African event, every bump and bruise… I’m choosing to be thankful for those. And I’m so so very thankful for the amazing times as well, so many I can’t even begin to write here.
 |
| Some of my besties (2015) |
Because, for them,
I AM THANKFUL.
~Kara
Thursday, November 26, 2015
And It Goes On...
The day is almost done. It was full of studying for a biology test. Negative feedback mechanisms and the structure of the eye run through my mind. The words call out from downstairs, "Come and see what came in the mail."
Thankful for the break, I go downstairs and there are papers-pink, yellow, and purple lying on the counter-top. A smile crosses my face as I see the familiar handwriting of my friends half a world away and I finger the pages with excitement and joy.
I turn back to my books but something pops into my head and I scribble it down on the corner of my notes. Four simple words.
And it goes on...
A little reminder that the legacy of the past few years is not over.
Mom reads out bits and pieces of letters and I save my personal ones, tucking them into the pages of my Biology textbook, as I wait for my Biology exam to be done the next day to read them.
At the end of my exam, I wait to be picked up and eagerly turn to the letters that I had waited to read. The words brought smiles to my face and memories of three beautiful years of friendship come back
"And it goes on..."
That phrase echo in my brain as I think of the words in those letters. The words of encouragement, of laughter, of preparing for exams again. Of a little boy in a wheelchair saying that he misses us and the one who wants me to teach him guitar.
You see, it isn't that much different than it was when we lived in the same country. That girl still encouraged me every time I saw her, and that little boy was always asking me if he could play my guitar.
So it goes on, this friendship of ours.
It goes on through pictures on the wall of little boys smiles.
It goes on through letters in my bedroom that I read one by one, picturing the faces and hearing the voices speaking those words.
It goes on through emails, notes, letters. Through the basketball advice and the updates on the books that they are reading.
It goes on through the nicknames, the "I miss you's" and the questions about when we are coming to visit.
Our friendships aren't over, like my deepest fears had always imagined. No, they may not be the same but they are still there.
Because we have a bond that is stronger than time. Stronger than distance. It is stronger than words on the page and days gone by. Even stronger than death. The few years that we spent together knit us together as family, brothers and sisters in Christ. We are brothers and sisters that won't be torn apart by trials, sadness, tears, goodbyes, and death because we belong to the eternal family of God. A family that will never be broken.
And it, this friendship, it goes on...over cultures, over oceans, over prayer and good memories.
It goes on.
~Catriona
Thankful for the break, I go downstairs and there are papers-pink, yellow, and purple lying on the counter-top. A smile crosses my face as I see the familiar handwriting of my friends half a world away and I finger the pages with excitement and joy.
I turn back to my books but something pops into my head and I scribble it down on the corner of my notes. Four simple words.
And it goes on...
A little reminder that the legacy of the past few years is not over.
Mom reads out bits and pieces of letters and I save my personal ones, tucking them into the pages of my Biology textbook, as I wait for my Biology exam to be done the next day to read them.
At the end of my exam, I wait to be picked up and eagerly turn to the letters that I had waited to read. The words brought smiles to my face and memories of three beautiful years of friendship come back
"And it goes on..."
That phrase echo in my brain as I think of the words in those letters. The words of encouragement, of laughter, of preparing for exams again. Of a little boy in a wheelchair saying that he misses us and the one who wants me to teach him guitar.You see, it isn't that much different than it was when we lived in the same country. That girl still encouraged me every time I saw her, and that little boy was always asking me if he could play my guitar.
So it goes on, this friendship of ours.
It goes on through pictures on the wall of little boys smiles.It goes on through letters in my bedroom that I read one by one, picturing the faces and hearing the voices speaking those words.
It goes on through emails, notes, letters. Through the basketball advice and the updates on the books that they are reading.
It goes on through the nicknames, the "I miss you's" and the questions about when we are coming to visit.
Our friendships aren't over, like my deepest fears had always imagined. No, they may not be the same but they are still there.
Because we have a bond that is stronger than time. Stronger than distance. It is stronger than words on the page and days gone by. Even stronger than death. The few years that we spent together knit us together as family, brothers and sisters in Christ. We are brothers and sisters that won't be torn apart by trials, sadness, tears, goodbyes, and death because we belong to the eternal family of God. A family that will never be broken.And it, this friendship, it goes on...over cultures, over oceans, over prayer and good memories.
It goes on.
~Catriona
Monday, November 16, 2015
Even Then…There is Joy
When we’re surrounded by hard circumstances, and the sky just keeps falling, and the waves just keep coming, we can become so swamped in our own problems that we miss the joy.
But there is so much joy waiting to be discovered!
In the month-old neighbor baby who is learning to smile
In walking through wet morning grass to kneel in soft dirt and plant trees that will one day be taller than we are
In 26 children saying in unison, “You are welcome, Auntie Kasana!”
In overflowing plates of matoke and g-nut sauce
In peaceful morning Bible readings up on a water tower
In waving to everyone you pass on the road
In dancing and whooping in church
In knowing that God never leaves nor forsakes us
In cheering crowds welcoming boys home
We can’t wait for that “perfect time” to find joy, because that time will never come. We will never be entirely problem and stress free until we reach Heaven. Thus, we need to be able, with God’s help, to see the joy even in the hardship, hurt, and disappointment, because that’s when we need it the most.
Psalm 27: 5-7 reminds us that joy is not dependent on our circumstances when it says, “For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock. Then my head will be exalted above the enemies who surround me;at his sacred tent, I will sacrifice with shouts of joy; I will sing and make music to the Lord. Hear my voice when I call, Lord; be merciful to me and answer me.”
When we we’re struggling financially, we can know the joy of God’s provision. When we’re struggling relationally, we can find joy in God as the everlasting friend and father. People around us can also spread God’s joy through their words, actions, prayers or even a smile.
Sometimes, when I don’t feel there’s much to be happy about, let alone joyful about, God will drop a a little sweet something on my path for that day and I will remember that He is with me, and He is in control. As the giver of joy He can replenish us over and over again without ever becoming empty. And His presences provides yet another reason we can always be joyful! With Him before us, behind us, and walking with us, we can’t help exuding His joy!
Joy also lies in looking past the suffering to what lies ahead: everlasting peace and joy.
Psalm 30:5 says, “For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.”
Even when we’re bombarded by hardship on all sides and no hope is in sight, we can still find joy through it all. Indeed, perhaps that is the truest joy of all as it is lasting, not relying on our circumstances. That is the joy worth having.
-Kasana
But there is so much joy waiting to be discovered!
In the month-old neighbor baby who is learning to smile
In walking through wet morning grass to kneel in soft dirt and plant trees that will one day be taller than we are
In 26 children saying in unison, “You are welcome, Auntie Kasana!”
In overflowing plates of matoke and g-nut sauce
In peaceful morning Bible readings up on a water tower
In waving to everyone you pass on the road
In dancing and whooping in church
In knowing that God never leaves nor forsakes us
In cheering crowds welcoming boys home
We can’t wait for that “perfect time” to find joy, because that time will never come. We will never be entirely problem and stress free until we reach Heaven. Thus, we need to be able, with God’s help, to see the joy even in the hardship, hurt, and disappointment, because that’s when we need it the most.
Psalm 27: 5-7 reminds us that joy is not dependent on our circumstances when it says, “For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock. Then my head will be exalted above the enemies who surround me;at his sacred tent, I will sacrifice with shouts of joy; I will sing and make music to the Lord. Hear my voice when I call, Lord; be merciful to me and answer me.”
When we we’re struggling financially, we can know the joy of God’s provision. When we’re struggling relationally, we can find joy in God as the everlasting friend and father. People around us can also spread God’s joy through their words, actions, prayers or even a smile.
Sometimes, when I don’t feel there’s much to be happy about, let alone joyful about, God will drop a a little sweet something on my path for that day and I will remember that He is with me, and He is in control. As the giver of joy He can replenish us over and over again without ever becoming empty. And His presences provides yet another reason we can always be joyful! With Him before us, behind us, and walking with us, we can’t help exuding His joy!
Joy also lies in looking past the suffering to what lies ahead: everlasting peace and joy.
Psalm 30:5 says, “For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.”
Even when we’re bombarded by hardship on all sides and no hope is in sight, we can still find joy through it all. Indeed, perhaps that is the truest joy of all as it is lasting, not relying on our circumstances. That is the joy worth having.
-Kasana
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Forget Not
Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his
holy name! Bless the Lord, O my
soul, and forget not all his benefits. (Psalm 103:1-2 ESV)
If you have read our posts, you have
probably noticed a running theme going on. Living in another country is
difficult. Having your parents serve as missionaries is difficult. Moving
across the world multiple times is difficult. So often we forget all the
good things God has done for us. It is easy to forget and to dwell on the
tough things. But time and time again, God’s Word tells us to
“remember”.
In the Old Testament, the Israelites
were commanded to remember how they were slaves in Egypt and how God gave them
freedom. “You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and
the Lord your God redeemed you;
therefore I command you this today.” (Deuteronomy 15:15 ESV) And yet,
there seemed to be a pattern. The Israelites continuously forgot. It’s
easy to judge the Israelites. We may think, “But God freed them from
slavery. He parted a sea so they could cross through. He gave them food in the
desert. He gave them victory after victory. How could they forget?”
But am I really so different? The truth
is that sometimes, too often, I am like the Israelites. I forget all the
things that God has done for me. I forget the friends and family He has
given to me. I forget that He has been with me in every moment—the good and the
hard. I forget the time He gave me with the people I have had to say
good-bye to (some for a while; some until heaven). Instead of
taking time to reflect on what God has done for me, I ask Him why He would let
something happen. It seems backwards, since He loved me so much He sent
His son to die for my sins, but it is
so easy to do.
Psalm 103 is a psalm that comes to my
mind again and again. It’s one that seems to pop up everywhere I
go. I don’t believe this is a coincidence. God is trying to tell me
something. I’m supposed to remember, to forget not, all of God’s
benefits.
“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his
holy name! Bless the Lord, O my
soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who
heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you
with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good, so that your youth
is renewed like the eagle's.” (Psalm 103:1-5 ESV)
This psalm has so much in it, but one
thing that struck me recently was the “benefits” that are mentioned in the
first few verses. These verses don’t deal with God giving you good,
safe, happy, healthy, easy times. They actually talk about God redeeming
and bringing His people through the hard times. He forgives our sin, heals
all our diseases, redeems our lives from the pit. I personally
don’t think sin, disease, or the pit is anything that people want.
However, these are the first three things that David mentions. Because
God brought him through those trials, crowned him with steadfast love and
mercy, satisfied him with good, and renewed his youth.
I want to learn to remember. To
forget not God’s benefits that I do not deserve in any way. Because if I forget
not, the natural response will be praise to God. I will be able to “bless
the LORD” with my whole heart, not because He has given me a particularly easy
life, but because He has been with me the whole time and will bring me through
every trial.
~Christina
Friday, September 18, 2015
Letting Go
Thankfully, saying goodbye also means saying hello.
Leaving means arriving.
Letting go means receiving more.
Dying means being re-born.
One door closes and another opens.
A couple months ago, I wrote those words on the last page of my journal—the journal I’d written in for four years. During that time, I’d recently heard that I was moving back to the States, and I was trying desperately to find some hope in the sadness.
God just planted those words in my mind, reminding me that it wasn’t all over. Yes, I would be saying goodbye, and leaving, but that didn’t mean I would have nothing. First of all, I would still have Him. And I would also have new friends and experiences, without even entirely losing my old ones! Yes, my life would be different, and it would be hard, but it could be a good different. And I would have to trust that He knew what he was doing, that something good would come out of it all. I have to believe that something beautiful will rise from the ashes…that from the tears, something new will grow.
Sometimes we just have to let go, and trust that our hands will be filled again. But the hardest part is believing that so completely that we will indeed be willing to let go. A couple weeks ago, I went on a retreat with the worship teams of my church. One of the activities I had to do was a trust fall. I had to stand on a stack of chairs, with my hands tied, and fall backwards onto the clasped hands of two rows of people. I was terrified! Did I trust the people standing there to catch me? Yes! But there was still a nagging thought in the back of my mind. What if they don’t? Okay, so maybe I didn’t trust them…at least not completely! The hardest part was forcing myself to actually lean back and fall. That’s why I decided to get it over with as quickly as possible. When I called, “Here I come!” I fell, as in that second! And guess what? They caught me! Actually, I just laid there for a moment with my eyes closed…my thoughts at that point were, Wait, am I actually alive? Oh, I am! And God is a lot stronger than the people who caught me!
Psalms 81:10 says:
"I, the LORD, am your God, Who brought you up from the land of Egypt; Open your mouth wide and I will fill it.
And Psalm 126:2 says:
“Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then they said among the nations, “The LORD has done great things for them.”
So yes, it’s hard to let go. And I know I’m going to struggle with that more and more as my leaving date draws closer…but I want to be willing to be empty, if only for the joy of being filled up again by my Father!
-Kasana
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