Juliet's foot: A story from Africa

I'll never stop thinking about Juliet. 

I'll never stop praying for Juliet.

And, I'll never stop loving my dear sister, Juliet.

After a five hour drive from Kampala (capital of Uganda), Erica and I had just reached the little village of Nalweyo, our home for the next few weeks. The people of Nalweyo were so ecstatic to have us visiting, that they threw us a parade! As excitement, nervousness, and curiosity danced together inside of me, I peeked my head out of the car and I saw Juliet. She was the last person in line to greet us, but her bright smile could be picked out of thousands. As soon as I hopped out of the car, she seemed to have made her way to where I was, and immediately she grabbed my hand.

The welcome parade 

I noticed her beautiful skin, a smooth shade of dark licorice with a pink glow to her cheeks. Her hands were rough and leathery, and her eyes pierced mine - as if they wanted to tell a story. 

Then, I noticed her foot. 

Her right foot had turned a shade of pinkish white. It was bubbling, it was bloody, it was pussy, it was blistering and it was obviously very painful. 

"Oh, my word," I thought. In that moment I prayed that the Lord would begin to work miracles on her foot.

The next day, Erica and I asked other villagers about Juliet, and her foot. As my Renyolo (Nalweyo language) improved I was able to get to know her better, and ask her questions directly.

We quickly found out that Juliet (age 15) has Epilepsy, and had a seizure by the fire one night in November. As she was seizuring, her foot hit the fire and she was severely burned. She lost feeling in her foot, and didn't even have sandals to protect it from getting infected.  Since most people over there are not educated on Epilepsy, her parents and a lot of other people were probably pretty confused as to what was going on with her. From what some of the village girls told me, her parents dropped her off at the Church after her foot caught on fire and left her.

My heart ached and pained for what she must have been feeling, and I begged God to let me help her. 

As I was holding her hand that night, I heard a whisper on my heart. "Daughter, wash her feet."

"Okay, God. I can do that." I said to myself.

I looked at Juliet and tried my best to pronounce, "N'Kwenda Kusaba Amaguru" (I want to wash foot) and then pointed at her foot. She smiled and agreed. The next day Erica and I filled up our washing basin with water and a bar of ivory soap. (We didn't really have any supplies, but that wasn't stopping us.)With plastic bags as make-shift gloves, we washed her feet. Little kids gathered around to watch, and Juliet just stared and was quiet.

I know that my God is a God of strength, and action, and power, and compassion, and awe. And again, in that moment I asked Him to do something radical and begin healing in that foot. 

As days went by, we acquired actual supplies and began loving on her and treating her foot. We were gone during the days, but as soon as our beat up Suburban pulled in Nalweyo - she was there waiting by our house. There were nights when I'd be up worrying about her foot and pondering what I could do to make it better, and how I could fix it. Then God reminded me that He is God, and I am not. He doesn't need me, but He is using me. He could heal her, and only Him.

After Sunday Church

The days when her foot made no progress (and even looked worse), you could still see that smile and hear her sweet giggle. I remember on one of the days where her foot was looking pretty bad, she came hopping over to my house with a sugar cane to share with me. I didn't know how to eat it, so I bit the outside layer (completely wrong) and she laughed hysterically.  I promised myself I'd never complain over pain again, because she honestly never did.  

On our last day, right before we drove away I looked down at her foot. 

Erica and I both agreed in excitement, that her foot looked significantly better, and it was healing. 

Luke 18:1

Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.

Praise God, to Him all the glory!

xox Angie

Juliet ready to get her foot washed and re-wrapped!
(With a smile, too!)

The first time Juliet got her feet washed

The whimsical you, that you are.

Last night, on New Years Eve, when the clock transformed the year into a blank slate I was wearing my favorite pajamas, tangled in my layers of bedding and completely asleep.
I could blame my exclusive night to a number of things; My jet lag from my recent Africa trip, the gnarly weather, no secured plans, or even just exhaustion from the month of December. I'm sure each of these reasons did add to my night in, but I truly believe the reason why I stayed home was because that was exactly where I knew I needed to be.

This may not seem like a big deal, but to me this is huge.

I spent most of 2013 (and the years before) stretching myself. Yes, a good stretch never hurt anyone right? Well, sometimes I would pretend I was Elastic-girl from the Incredibles (and her flexibility is not normal, guys). I almost always said yes, to everything, which in turn caused me to indirectly say no to the things that I really cared about.  I'm sure many can relate. You feel like you should do something with your free-time, be somewhere on the weekends, with a friend that needs you, or a group that is expecting you to participate...but in the back of your mind you are missing out on what you know you desperately need;
- A rest, a good book, that run you've been thinking about all week, a date with Jesus in the Adoration Chapel (don't we always?), time to dance or rock climb, a thrilling adventure, a bath, time to journal,  time to pray and listen to God.

Not only am I missing out on things I need, but I often feel as though by conforming to these plans I am missing out on the person God created me to be. I'm missing that smile that He loves, I'm missing that drive and that passion that He created at the core of my being, and I missing out on the whimsy-love feeling that I get by doing the things I enjoy doing.

In my recent mission trip to Africa, I fell in love with the way people love.
They are full of life, and are completely themselves. Kids run around in rags, teenagers with acne and no makeup, women with crying babies on their backs and calloused feet. These people are incredibly happy. These people come as who they are. None of them are the same in any way, yet they all have this beauty about them which is obviously given to them by Christ. And, they live it.

I'm not saying to down every invitation you receive, and simply just do what "you want to do", that's not it.  I just know that too often I say yes to living a life of obligations and living up to expectations, simply because I'm not sure what will happen if I don't. I guess I sometimes think that if I let people down, or if I'm not running around like a crazy person - God can't use me.
Yet, God is using us in every situation....and in fact by pursuing the desires He has given us, God delights.

These little people on a tiny dot in East Africa taught me to come as I am,
and to live out those whimsy desires that God placed within me.

Last night, it was a night in....but today I'm going on an adventure.
xox Angie

Gloria (6) loved laughing, dancing and tickling her brother

Massai (7) loved giving her things to others, and inventing new toys (aka rocks/old plastic) 

Anita (5) loved to love others, and to help out everyone with what they were doing

Olivia (20) loves fashion, and loves art. She also loves to hug! xo