it all leads to THIS...

I was in tears long before we ever set eyes on our campers.

We were loaded in the coaster - Americans and translators together, sitting intermingled side by side. All it took was pulling into the oh so familiar location where camp would take place. The tears flowed. I was overwhelmed with joy and anticipation of all God had in store. We had been preparing for weeks. There were literally 550-lbs. of supplies. There were pages of activities outlined in notebooks, every one had been prayed over. Now we were really here. Camp was about to begin. My heart was ready to burst.

We had spent two days becoming a cohesive team and it worked beautifully…

Sunday morning we went to CLA for church and out of my peripheral vision I saw Arnold sitting just a few rows behind us. My heart leapt. It had been nearly a year since I had seen my Rwandan friends and everything in me longed to JUMP UP and hug him right that very instant. As soon as the service was over I saw more familiar friends headed toward us, faces bright with excitement almost as big as ours. The joy overflowed as enthusiastic embraces abounded. Outside Joy, the lead of our translator team and a dear friend, waited patiently for us to join her. Joy and I have been working on camp together throughout the year, so seeing her was a long-awaited reunion. That first hug with Joy was one of the best moments of the entire trip. I am convinced there is almost nothing more beautiful than an embrace with a dear friend after months apart. Up to that day, we had only spent two weeks together, but our hearts are forever united because we love the same God and serve the same Kingdom. Joy is truly a sacred and special gift. When we were all finally outside there was an uproar as the entire team came together for the first time - a bond built on the foundation of Christ and virtually nothing else is required. Heaven is going to be INCREDIBLE.

Sunday afternoon Americans and translators joined together for lunch at Meze Fresh (aka Rwandan Chipotle and then headed to the top of Mount Kigali to go zip lining. Memories came flooding back as we drank hot mango smoothies - OH YES, hot. There is virtually ZERO ICE in this country, so the drinks are almost never cold. We tried to learn about one another and laughed hysterically as we soared over the beautiful skyline of a place that would forever mark each one of us. Monday morning we trained for camp. We spent some time just getting to know one another, then we went over the itinerary for camp alongside the heartbeat, purpose, and intention for serving the most vulnerable in Bugasera. Then we prayed together, had lunch, and loaded the coaster with supplies and personal luggage. 

We pulled into the oh-so-familiar camp location and I was done - completely overcome. We walked through each aspect of the site - where we would have meals, where we would play games, selected small group locations, put our personal luggage away in our rooms and then we waited… as anticipation mounted… for word that it was time for us to come meet the campers. The minutes crawled by and every once in a while we saw a familiar face out the window and lost our marbles with more joy than we knew we contained. Finally about an hour later we received our official invitation: come & open camp. 

the first view...

I spent a bit of time this morning reading back through my journal and it made me proud. Proud of the way I prayed my way through Africa. Proud that I chose to fix my eyes on Him repeatedly. Proud that my heart really was focused on the One who was doing work IN ME and had called me to Rwanda before I ever stepped foot back on that beloved continent. I continually asked Him to be my strength and to give me endurance to run the race for Him alone. Even still I have the opportunity to live out of that prayer. Lord - let it be You I sing of and You I praise. 

Rwanda is undoubtedly my favorite place on earth. As soon as our plane landed and I walked out of the airport, it was as if my spirit lifted. We drove toward the World Relief Guesthouse and I kept having to remind myself that it wasn’t merely replaying in my memory - I was REALLY ACTUALLY THERE. I had finally returned to Rwanda. After a year of praying and anticipating, I was “home”. Prayers of gratitude poured from my heart as my eyes welled up with tears. It was overwhelming to say the least. Upon arrival, I took a picture of the most familiar view - the city in the midst of the night lights and stood in amazement at the goodness of my Father for allowing me to return to this place I hold so very dear. My heart felt as if it was bursting with joy and adventure and yet a sense of heaviness all the while. I had this burning desire to hold it all well and to carry it all for His glory. I had done all I could to prepare - it was time to dance for Jesus. 

The return to Rwanda was every bit as good as I could have hoped. I danced with William and took his cheeks in my hands, I wiped his tears - and let a few of my own fall, both in our reunion and our goodbye. I met new campers who have horrific stories of trauma and heartbreak and yet they rejoice in their salvation and reminded me repeatedly that no gift is as valuable as the one we have already received. I listened to the glorious sound of Rwandan children with their voices raised in harmony to praise their Father. I pounded my feet alongside so many friends, both old and new, and sang words in a tongue I didn’t know in praise to Jehovah. I watched in awe as my team served tirelessly and shared their hearts boldly. I played balloon games in complete and utter delight and watched simple crafts like heart pillows and a painted banner bring wonder and creativity to life in children who may never again use something as ordinary as a glue stick. I served meals and praised God for providing abundantly beyond all I could ever ask when it comes to food for my belly and allowed me to be part of feeding these beloved children for one week. I held more hands and gave more hugs in one week than I am likely to give throughout the next year. At the special needs orphanage I was able to hold Monica - the sweet girl I sang over last year and watched her light up and smile and laugh once again. I was also able to hold the hand of a little boy who was undoubtedly in great physical pain - and though I couldn’t fix it or make it any better, for one morning, I was able to sit with him and be present in the midst of it - praying over him and begging the God of comfort to be near. 

I don’t really have words to describe how my heart feels at this particular moment other than to say I think I could spontaneously burst into tears without any warning or advance notice. I look at pictures and I yearn to return - to see their faces once again - to walk those dusty roads - to spend all my time serving and utilizing my moments in a way that feels so entirely valuable and worthy. I yearn to have my thoughts consumed with things that matter and find myself wandering out to our patio to gaze upon the city and have conversations with the Lord. I don’t know what any of this really means for me - but I plan to continue wrestling with it and trusting my good and faithful Father to guide and direct me. He has a plan and a purpose and will continue to ordain each and every day of my life. If I have learned anything in Rwanda it is this - Imana ni nziza: God is so good.