T minus 3 weeks...

You know those moments when realize how small you are?

I’ve had quite a few of them over the past few weeks—

I realized how SHORT my time here is, and realized how much of those girls’ lives are ahead of them-it made me feel guilty for leaving.

I don’t WANT the girls’ ideas of Americans to be people who simply come, see, feel sorry, and leave.

I don’t WANT to just hope that God’s presence is evident in the rest of their lives. It feels like closing my eyes and crossing my fingers and just walking away.

I don’t want to just imagine that they live with a sense of grace and purpose. I’d rather see it happen, or even just be there if it doesn’t.

I don’t WANT to tell them that they will probably never see me again, but it’s true.

The past few weeks have been great—another baby was born healthy and beautiful, and 2 more clients have come to Mirembe House. I’ve been able to sit in on more counseling sessions, and do some more of my own individual counseling. The girl that came in a few weeks ago that at one point in time felt done with life is now already doing amazingly better. She’s smiling every once in a while, and has a baby book made. I know she still has struggles—dreams that haunt her, and questions about the future. But she KNOWS that there are people who love her.

I was typing out minutes from staff meetings that dated back to 2011, and I got pretty jealous of the staff and volunteers at Mirembe House. They get to really be a part of these girls’ lives even after they leave. They get to visit, and be aunties to the babies, watch the kids grow up, and witness success stories, and be present when things fall apart for clients. The staff members are a family. They pray together, know each others’ lives, know each others’ kids, experience ups and downs of the ministry together…

But more thinking led me to realize the other side of this—the sacrifice that the staff and volunteers make at Mirembe House is incredible. Their WHOLE lives are Mirembe House. They don’t really get to leave one day and forget what has happened. Their lives are wrapped up in what’s going on there- they understand that Mirembe House may demand more of their time, more of their wallets, more of their energy than another job would. It may even demand more hurt, more pain, and more confusion, more hopelessness.

The reason I think they stay is because the blessings are worth it. The joy they have from experiencing God’s community and God’s work in peoples’ lives is worth it. The way they are able to bring God’s love is so worth it.

The more I witness what goes on at Mirembe House, the more I realize that life can be so beautiful when we’re part of a community that focuses on love. Don’t get me wrong, Mirembe House has its drama… but overall, the girls know that they can’t replace each other. No one understands what they’re going through as well as the people around them. The staff knows that they can rely on each other—and that makes even the most hopeless situations more beautiful.

In one of my lessons the other day, we played a little game (some of you might recognize it… I kind of snagged it from my youth group days). I split the girls up into two teams—two “bodies” if you will. Each girl had a role- one was the ear and mouth, one was the feet, one was the eyes… They had to work together to kind of do an obstacle course-- one girl gave directions after getting instructions from me, one had a blindfold on, and was guided by the other girl who was directing her to do the different tasks. It was pretty hilarious to see them trying to figure everything out… some of them were just laughing super hard, others were ticked at each other for guiding them carelessly, etc. It kind of looked like chaos for a while, but after sitting down to talk about it, they were all able to laugh with each other about what was going on. We talked about being a body of Christ—and how we each have different gifts, and how we need each other to really survive. I realized how pertinent this was to them. They need each other to get through this rough point in life. Some of them are more willing to admit it, but they all need each other.

But I think it’s just as true for the rest of us.

One girl commented on how frightening it was for her to put on a blindfold and trust the girl in front of her. How true… to trust each other in community is so vulnerable. To put myself out there, and really open up to a community to figure out life, and love deeply is scary. We could be left alone, in the dark, or run into something along the way. But the joys far outweigh the sacrifice. The love and sense of belonging far outweighs the independence and “safety” of living outside of community.

So 3 more weeks, and I’m done with my internship. After that, finals will take place, and we’ll spend time in Rwanda before coming back home. It’s incredible how short 4 months is, but it’s incredible how much growth occurs in that time.

A volunteer from Mirembe has become a great friend to me, and said the other day:

“Mary, some people come and go, but I want you to know that you’ve been such a special person in my life. I won’t forget you.”

Melt my heart. Then this.

“You know, some people miss their friends so much… I will miss you, but then again I won’t. Even though you may be far away, you’re with me in spirit- and I’m with you. You’re my sister.”

WHAT a beautiful way to see the body of Christ. Mirembe House may not be part of my future, but it is in a small way. It’s shaped the way I see a lot of things, and it’s taught me so much about love, and care, and service. The people there have impacted my life in small ways and large ways. In a small way, they’ve become my family too. I’m thankful.