This morning we pull up to the airport, help her get her things out of the back, and then wait in line as we hug her and kiss her and whisper those bitter sweet words of "good-bye" to her and send her off. I only say they're bitter sweet because it is so very hard letting go, but they are also sweet because she's running into her Savior's arms all by herself so that He can carry her through this next phase in life.

It seems like it was just yesterday when we were running around the cul-de-sac playing tag with all the neighbor kids without a care in the world. We had dreams of who we might be one day, where we might go, what we might do.. We were best friends and sisters all built into one, we were inseparable. Sure we bickered and argued some, but we were kids and everything always seemed like it was the end of the world. I'd watch her walk away from me, knowing she'd always come right back. And we would always come back around to the conclusion that even though we argued and got on each others nerves, we still loved each other.

Time passed and it only taught us to fight less and become even better friends. We were home schooled in 8th grade and went to school at our church with only a few other kids, so we really only had each other as far as kids our age. God was teaching us a lot then and one day Carissa comes in our room and tells me she's scared, but that God was calling her to go all the way to Uganda, Africa. WHAT!? Thinking she was crazy, God slowly taught me of His want for me to go there too, and it was only a matter of time when I, too, decided that was where He was calling me.

A little more time passed by and all 3 of our oldest sisters went off to college. We were the oldest in the house, we have our licences to drive, we have the same job, we did everything together! Twice that year my parents came here to Guatemala for 9-day trips and we were asked to be 'mommies' for that time that our real mommy would be gone. The first trip we went to our grandparents' house all the way in Pennsylvania, the second trip we stayed home and had a couple friends stay at our house with us more for 'moral' support than anything else and we learned how to be stretched more than we would've wished to at that time.

Then God calls our family (all but one) to Guatemala and we all take this giant leap of faith and trust Him as He takes us through the unknown. Carissa and I still know that this won't be permanent; it will only be a 'pit stop' for before we actually head to our longer destination, Uganda, Africa. These last 2 years, the four of us oldest ones learn to be best of the best friends and we all do everything together. We learn a new culture, a new language, a new ministry, a new level of faith, and God deepens each of the passions He has instilled in our hearts for the countries He has called us to. We all share our struggles, our strengths, and everything in between and we learn how to be better sisters than we used to be.

After what seems like forever(that was partly our fault for not actually working to make it come sooner), God works it out that we both get to go to Uganda for 6 weeks to learn direction, culture, and to help deepen our passions for the place we will one day call 'home'. We plan the trip, and while we're planing it, God calls Carissa to go back two and a half months later and to nanny a family of a few kids for 6 months so that way she can learn to actually live life there long-term, so she can figure out how God wants her to start up her ministry, and to learn more of the culture and language before she goes there permanently. God does incredible things while we are there for our short trip and He gives us so many memories that we will never forget.

We come home and share with everyone that we have indeed been called there permanently and we try to enjoy ever bit of time we can with each other all together, trying to fit all the 'last times' for her to do before she leaves us 2 and a half months after we get back home. We make so many awesome memories, have an awesome time, have some new experiences, and we laugh. Oh, how we laugh together. We try to soak up all those last moments the best we can, but still the time comes too soon and we wonder where in the world it all went..

And now I sit here, remembering and longing for those days when we were just kids, when we didn't have a care in the world but to have fun and enjoy being a kid. And I'm faced with the reality of how old we really are, and with the fact that the time has come for us to grow up and do the things God is asking us to do. She's a big girl now and I watched her as she walked all by herself into the crowd of people outside of the airport, knowing it will be a long time until she will come back. And the tears were flowing and my heart was aching. How did we get this old without me realizing it?

But in spite of the heartache and the tears that come at such unexpected times, God has given me so much peace. Though my sister (and one of my best friends) is being taken away, she is going to be used for His Kingdom to save souls, to love on the unloved, to give hope to the hopeless, to be the very woman He has called her to be. And I am so very proud of her.

And though the hug couldn't ever be long enough and the time with her felt all-too short, I can't wait until the day that I can get to hug her again and spend time with her and meet her again with her wiser, more matured heart and with a bigger fire and passion for Jesus than ever before.. even if that means that I'll have to wait until we are both in Uganda being dangerous for our King!

Jesus, the Son of GOD. Fully God and fully man, He came to earth to save us all. He could have chosen to come as a great king who ruled many nations and showed God's great majesty and power. He could have come with lightning bolts, thunder and fire to show that He was GOD. He could have come with a glorious entrance into the world and He could have had a slam big finish to leave it. He could have come in the way He deserved to come (being fully God), but He didn't.

He came in the womb of a young girl. He was born in a cave full of smelly animals and with nothing else to be laid in but a feeding trough with poky hay. He came as a little child and grew in stature and in wisdom, just like all of us. He was born into a poor family whose provider was a carpenter, and thus grew up learning to be a carpenter too. He came in humility, He was the servant of servants. He taught wherever He went about how to follow Him and how to live a life that honored God. He walked in the streets, risking ridicule from others, risking being stoned, risking being thrown into jail, and risking being killed because the words He spoke were of authority that God gave Him. He didn't teach how to be a great person, getting everything in life you want. He taught humility, to be a servant of servants, to give your all, to risk your life for God, to live a life radically following after His example. He taught sharing the cost of being a Christ-follower.
He hung out with fishermen, he dined with tax collectors and prostitutes, not caring what other people would think of Him. He touched lepers, He cast out demons, He raised the dead, He washed His disciples' feet, He walked for days at a time just to preach the Gospel. He stretched out His arms to love on children.. and then He stretched them out again to save us all. He was beaten, mocked, spit on, ridiculed and nailed to a cross because He loves you and me. Then He went to Hell for 3 days and He took our place but then defeated death and sits on a thrown next to His Father until He comes back.

He did it because of His mercy, grace, love, and compassion. He bent down low to serve, to help, to heal, and to love. He did it to stoop down and be a real person with real-life circumstances so that He could relate to us and show us that there really is hope.

*     *     *

I look around me as I climb onto the bus as people glance up at me and then quickly look away. I gently offer a "buenas tardes" as I pass through the aisle and I grab onto the bars up top so I don't fall on anyone as the driver pushes on the gas. I look around at brown faces and black hair that almost look the same at first glance, yet are so distinctly different once looked at for more than a second. Each one carrying their own set of life experiences and burdens, each with a mission and a goal to pursue.

*     *     *

I ask for 10 lbs of potatoes, 6 lbs of green beans, 6 carrots, 3 lbs of tomatoes, 10 onions, 5 peppers, and even more veggies and I hold out my quickly-filling bag to see her hard-working hands put them in there for me. She manages a crooked smile as I smile big at her and thank her as she hands me back my change.

*     *     *

I kindly tell her I'm not interested in buying anything from her as she holds out her arms to me, both full of necklaces and scarves. She's there everyday in the park trying to support her family and make ends meet, and every time I have to tell her I have no money or I don't need anything else. Disappointment flashes in her eyes because yet another person has told her 'no,' so she'll just have to try to find someone else.

*     *     *

I hear 'perdon' lightly whispered just after she bumps me with boxes filling her arms that hardly allow her to see around them and her hair almost completely hiding her face. The hard work is written all over her face, she's just ready for a break, to be done with all this, to just go home. I smile at her and she manages one back to me between breaths.

*     *     *

It's not even 10:30 and he rushes passed me, skipping ahead with his backpack held up high over everyone's heads, hands stained with blood and blisters from a hard morning and he bends down to help a little one and her mother up the steps and then he skips back on his way again as if everything was okay.

*     *     *

She groans at me and I have to look at her face to tell whether it was a laugh or a cry. She's smiling at me because I chose her to hold, to talk to, to love on for the morning. She tries to tell me stories, stories I can't even come close to understanding, but I listen anyways because who else is going to sit down and take the time to listen to her? I hold her in-between my legs instead of on my lap because she's soaked in urine, and likely has been for a long time and still some gets on me and that's okay because I'd rather that than for her to sit all alone in her chair like she does everyday.

*     *     *

I go over and sit her up in her 'crib' ("It's a crib if you sleep in it, it's a cage if you live in it," my dad always says and I know he's right). I gently rub her back as she gets better situated and then she just stares at me. I ask her how her day went, what life's been like since I saw her last even though I know she can't answer me back. I ask her anyways because she deserves to have an opinion, to be thought about, for someone to be patient with her. And I hug her and kiss her and whisper that she's beautiful even though I know she won't believe me because everyone else tells her otherwise.

*     *     *

She walks by me all the time, feet dirty and calloused from years of not wearing shoes. Baskets always on her head, a mission always written on her face, she always smiles at me with half of her teeth missing. She waves and wishes me a good day.

*     *     *

I close my eyes and I remember her so vividly. Half of her black face completely covered in scars and an eye missing because of stepping on a land mine while she was gardening just a couple years ago, she looks straight at me and tells me God has great plans for me and that He loves me and so does she.

*     *     *

He runs up behind me and musters all the courage he can and he touches my white skin just to check to see if I have painted it because mine is so very different from his. I bend down to my knees and I open my arms and even more courageously he runs into them and gives me a hug and I tell him I love him in English, even though I know he only speaks Luganda.

*     *     *

She gives me a beaded necklace she spent a few hours making and smiles at me, even though she's only 1 year older than me and her 4 year old son and her 2 year old daughter are now forced to live with her grandmother because her husband gambles all their money away. She looks at me as if I deserve better than her and my heart aches and I just want her to know that she deserves so much better than me..

*     *     *

She turns the corner and sees me and we had met once before and she kneels down and our eyes almost meet because she's so tall and she kisses my hand because it's a sign of respect and she feels like she owes it to me. I take her hand and kiss it and help her to stand up and give her a hug because she's the one who deserves respect, not me. Her husband died a few years ago and she's supporting her daughter alone and still gives almost everything she has because Jesus has radically taken hold of her and she wants to give as He gave.

*     *     *

All of these people and so many more fill my mind as I think of how much I am blessed. Each one of these people are so beautiful and each one deserves the whole world, yet they have nothing. Sometimes they have less than nothing and I sit here and complain because the fridge doesn't hold something that'll hit the spot for lunch. I look at all that is needed to be done to apply to a school, to be accepted, and then work to actually get there, and I think about my sister leaving for Uganda and me not knowing when I'll see her next, and I realize that this doesn't even compare to the problems and situations such as lives taken from AIDS and husbands getting eaten by alligators that these people face every single day. I look at my past and I get upset sometimes that it looks different than some of my siblings' pasts, and I realize that even that, the biggest and hardest thing I've ever gone through, doesn't even compare to what they have faced many times over in their lifetimes.
God has blessed me with so much in this life. He has given me so much more than I ever need and I could never deserve any of it. I don't deserve all that I have in my life anymore than any of these people I pass by; I am no better than them. So why would Jesus choose me, small, broken, inadequate Teisha, to lavish these gifts upon? I cannot give an answer because I just don't know. But I do know that because He has chosen me, I have been given much responsibility. It is my responsibility to reach those that these people can't for Jesus. It is my responsibility to proclaim His name wherever I go, to share hope that can't be found otherwise, to love with a love they have not known, to bend down and serve them, even when they think I am the one to be served. Because that is exactly what my Jesus did when He was here on earth, and no student is greater than his teacher. I must follow in His steps and do as He did. I must give my all to Him because He is the One who deserves it in the first place.

I have no idea how good at this I will be. In fact, I know that I will fail so many times in the future to come. But even so, I must push forward and keep trying even when I do fail. I must because, like I said, I must follow in His steps..

To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps. -1 Peter 2:21