Life. Each day is a gift. But sometimes it’s hurts. ALOT. We have a choice, run to Jesus or away from him. I’ve seen people do both. This family runs to Him. He is their strength when they have none left. They trust him. Truly. He also gives them crazy joy in times of sorrow.  These photographs were taken a week before Mama Ce started treatment.

“It’s not the chemo, it’s all the love.” – Mama Ce

“The Lord is my strength and my shield;

my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.

My heart leaps for joy,

and with my song I praise him.” Psalm 28:7

Being a Mother is the hardest job I’ve ever had. It’s also the best one. I know I’m not the first person to ever say that, but I wholeheartedly mean it. I’ve never prayed as hard or as fervently since the morning I found out I was pregnant. It truly is like I have four pieces of heart living outside my body. It hurts when they hurt. They all sleep through the night these days, but sometimes their hurts keep me awake. Turning my worry into prayer at 2am is not uncommon.

I keep a journal (if you don’t, you should) in it I record all the good things, sweet things my kids say or do. I make a point of writing in it on the bad days, to make myself remember that good things DID happen that day and I thank God for them.

Two of my kids are adopted. At their adoptions I promised to love them like I gave birth to them. I REALLY do. I had a little girls come up to me one day and say “Does he know you aren’t his real mama?”  I answered “But I am his real mama, he didn’t come out of my belly but I love him and care for him just like he did”. She was happy with my answer and ran off to play.

Being a Mother is a gift. One I’m so very grateful for, even at 2am.

I clearly remember December 31st 2013, as the clock struck over to the new year I thought to myself  “This is the year I’m going to Africa”. That didn’t happen. So many other things did. Great things. Horrible things. Crazy joy.  Deep sorrow.

It didn’t happen in 2014 like I’d planned but January 2015 was pretty close.

I really felt like it was something I HAD to do. It may sound silly but it was something I needed to get out of my system. I’d dreamed of it for such a long time. I’ve had the privilege of visiting many other counties and seeing so many amazingly cool things but not anywhere in Africa. A friend asked me the other day (joking, but at the same time a little serious) “So when are you moving to Uganda?”. If you know me, you’d most likely ask me the same question; expecting me to have a deep longing to live there, ready to pack up my life and move. I almost can’t believed I’m saying this but I’m really okay living in America. Like really. This is where I am meant to be. Weird right?

To be honest Uganda wasn’t what I expected. Kind of like that movie that everyone loves and talks about. You watch it with HUGE expectations and  leave the cinema feeling a little disappointed. I’m not saying I didn’t love it, I did. It just wasn’t what I expected.

I’ve gone on a long journey of guilt (I always wanted to be a missionary, how did I end up in America?). To a really exciting one of gratitude. Like Uganda pushed a reset button in my life. Helped me remember some things I’d forgotten. Helped me see things with more clarity. I am incredibly grateful!

10 years to the day that I took (most of) these photographs I was standing on a beautiful beach in Australia. Not a cloud in the sky. Surrounded by people I love. Wearing an off white beaded lace dress promising to love a man for as long as I live. I love that we were able to serve in Uganda together.