We Haven't Forgotten

We haven't forgotten
The child with pudgy hands
     and cheeks of rust and dimples,
washed on a beach-
     blue, ashen,
Like the plastic soda rings-
     birds trapped, flailing.

We haven't forgotten
     those who journeyed
over hectic waters -
     tears, seizing heartbeats

We haven't forgotten
     but we pretend
we did not see.

Caroline

Caroline,
Twenty, a mother, provider
     Ravaged by AIDS,
Her daughter beside her.

Caroline,
Bones, skin, and teary eyes,
     Forgotten in silence,
Gifted with virus, stigmatized.

Caroline,
Hope came then, not now.
     So tired - but her child -
How can voiceless scream so loud?

Caroline,
Memory, seen in a younger face,
     Buried, rural ground.
She finally got to leave this place.
     Love for daughter her only sound,
Caroline.

2016 Yearly Recap

This is late, but since I've done this recap since 2013, I might as well do it again!

1. What did you do in 2016 that you'd never done before? 
I traveled internationally alone. It was a lot less scary and a whole lot easier than I expected - and a lot easier than traveling in a group, I will also admit!

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
My goals for 2016 were to give to a cause every month and read 50 books. I did give monthly to CRF through sponsorship and I also read exactly 50 books! For 2017, I would like to commit to at least 50 more books and I want to write more.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
My sweet friend Megan gave birth to twins! Also my friend Stephanie gave birth to a lovely daughter.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
My uncle Greg died on September 27. Also notable - although we weren't close, the mother of my sponsored child died in August, and her life will always leave a mark on my heart.

5. What countries did you visit?  
Kenya (and Qatar and England if you count long airport stays...)

6. What would you like to have in 2017 that you lacked in 2016?
Last year I wanted to have more community and I wanted to be busy in a good way instead of focusing on me-time. I am thankful for the Bible study began by my friend Krisann and I last January that is still going on! The Lord has been so faithful with community. I'm also learning more about busyness as I step into foster care.

For 2017, I would like to be more intimate in my prayer life. I try to keep conversation casual throughout the day, but I want to step deeper with the Lord this year. During some difficult transitions globally, I should be relying intentionally more on the Lord than I feel like I am now.

7. What dates from 2016 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
The day I lost my uncle was one of the most difficult days of my life. I don't know if anything can quite compare with that.

On a happier note, November 14 was the day that Jen and I gave our Kenyan daughter-in-a-way, Eunice, a birthday in honor of her mother, Caroline.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I thought the trip I planned in July to Kenya went very well. As a young person still very much learning about taking groups overseas, I felt like this was an accomplishment for me! Similarly when I traveled alone in September.

9. What was your biggest failure?
My biggest failure was when I accidentally paid $50 instead of $52 to the water company for 3 months and ended up with a $400 late fine for those $6 I missed!

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? 
Other than a month in the winter that I could not seem to get over a cold, I have been healthy!

11. What was the best thing you bought?
I bought a car!

12. Where did most of your money go?
Most of my money went towards bills, that car, and food. I'm adulting now, aren't I?

13. What did you get really excited about?
Obviously I get so excited about CRF's ministry and about my beloved community in Kenya.

14. What song will always remind you of 2016? 
Overwhelmed by Big Daddy Weave.

Yellow Water Jugs

The yellow water jug

holds just a little in its bottom

in the early morning

so I can splash my

dark dark cheeks.

Uniform stretched out on my bed,

I wear a faded dress instead.

I stand up tall - upon my head

is the empty

yellow water jug.

The path is long and stretches far.

One way students walk to class;

this way we walk for water.

Dust is stirred by bare

dark, dark feet

like mine and all the other girls',

careful braids and short-cropped curls

and teeth like baby pearls. 

All carrying, just the same,

yellow water jugs.

The men watch us, 

taking tea with big, rough hands,

winking at us with 

dark, dark thoughts 

but we do not meet their eyes. 

The hairs on my arms rise.

Strength in numbers, walking by sunrise. 

I grow thirsty under the sun

but as barren as the dusty path

is my yellow water jug. 

The thorn bush catches my foot

and like a river, up wells

dark, dark blood

but still I smile because I've arrived 

at the end of the long queue. 

Women young and old and thin 

with weary faces, weathered skin 

stand at this daily chore again,

all carrying empty

yellow water jugs. 

The heat is thick and still I wait, 

jug at my feet, skin damp with sweat.

My head bows, casting

dark, dark shadows. 

When the sun is high it's my turn,

so I pump until my muscles burn 

and my dry, dry throat yearns, 

but others are waiting too, so 

I rush to fill my 

yellow water jug.  

The jug balanced on my head, I hurry. 

I don't want to be trapped in the

dark dark night

with the men who always watch.

I make it home, aching, tired.

Grandmother cooks bent over the fire. 

Brother walks in with stick and tire,

looking so smart in his school uniform.  

Grandmother cooks and empties most of 

the yellow water jug. 

It's hard to see through the

dark, dark smoke

but we eat and tonight there is enough. 

Brother talks about all I missed

in class. I ball my fists,

but through sleepy thoughts I listen. 

No need for tears. When the rains come, 

perhaps I'll go back to class again. 

But tomorrow I'll be walking 

with other girls, barefoot, balancing

our yellow water jugs.