Unpredictable Chaos

July 9, 2014 / alliekappe / Leave a comment

Have you ever seen Grey’s Anatomy? Many of the episodes begin with a patient being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance and wheeled into the ER while all of the doctors are doing assessments and shouting orders to each other and trying to figure out how to save the patient’s life. As a devoted Grey’s Anatomy fan, I have seen so many of these scenes and it gets my adrenaline going every time. The stress, the tension, and the unknown that surrounds the patient’s situation makes me so intrigued that I can’t stop watching until I find out what happens.

That is the kind of scene that occurs every day in the Mt. Meru ER, or as they call it here, Casualty. After a slower pace last week in the Pediatrics ward, I decided to jump over to Casualty this week to see how I liked it. I’ve only spent one day in an ER in the U.S. during nursing clinicals and I remember being a little overwhelmed by the continuous flow of patients walking through the door and the mystery illnesses they brought with them. This past experience made me hesitate to request a placement in the ER for this trip, but I can tell you now that I deeply regret it.

Casualty is best described as unpredictable chaos. It can be extremely quiet and empty one minute, and the next thing we know there are 4 different patients being wheeled in with serious injuries. The part of the ward we work on is the main Casualty room where the most emergent cases are brought. It’s comprised of a single room with 3 beds available for incoming patients, two cabinets for medications and supplies, and a small desk where the doctor can sit. The more severe cases are taken straight to a bed, and the less severe patients are seated at the doctor’s desk to be evaluated.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that literally anything can (and does) walk through that door. In just the past two days we’ve seen gruesome wounds from car accidents, broken and dislocated bones, head lacerations, continuous seizures, miscarriages, HIV complications, heart failure, knife attacks, and lifeless bodies. There have been unconscious patients wheeled in with absolutely no clues as to what happened, and all we can do is assess and stabilize them and hope that we can get a solid diagnosis later. Today there was a woman who came in as a victim of a motor accident with a leg swelled up to at least twice the size it should be, the result of a hemorrhage secondary to a broken femur. We are usually the first to get to a new patient, and we are left with hand gestures and our broken Swahili to try to figure out what happened until the doctor has enough time to come over.

The biggest challenge in this ward is the language barrier. When I’m standing beside a patient who has just woken up from a fainting episode and has no idea where she is, I so badly wish that I could tell her that she’s been taken to the hospital and everything’s going to be alright. When a woman comes walking in vomiting blood and clutching her stomach, I wish that I could ask her how many times she’s vomited and when it started. But of course it’s in those crucial moments that my basic Swahili words go out the window and all I can think to say is ‘pole sana’ – I’m so sorry. It’s in these moments when all I can do is hope that they can understand an affectionate smile and warm touch, and pray that they see Jesus more than they see me.

I’ve only been on the Casualty ward for 2 days and I have already fallen in love with it. The fast pace and the unknown that surrounds each patient is exhilarating and addicting. It is not easy to see the state that some of these people are in when we first see them, and sometimes my lack of Swahili and position as a nursing student makes me feel pretty helpless. But it has allowed me to learn so much and have more hands-on experience than any other ward has offered. I’ll try to spare you the gory details, but it’s safe to say that what I’ve seen here is nothing like what I’ve ever seen in the U.S.

If you feel compelled to, prayers for these Casualty patients is so needed. The lack of resources, medications, and life-saving measures makes even the most minor injuries life-threatening if they’re not treated quickly and correctly. Sometimes in the most helpless situations, all I can rely on is the sovereign and healing hand of God. I hope that even in the smallest ways, He is using us to take care of these patients and hopefully save their lives.

– Allie

Little Richie

July 2, 2014July 7, 2014 / alliekappe / 1 Comment

This is Richard. Or as I like to call him, Little Richie. Every time I try to call him Richard I imagine an old man and that seems a little ironic for him. He was born about a month ago & he’s called the NICU at the hospital ‘home’ ever since. Once he’s old enough and well enough he’ll be moved to Neema House Orphanage, a home for children 0-3 years of age that’s right around the corner from our house. I haven’t had a chance to visit it yet, but that’s on my list of things to do this week and I can’t wait to tell y’all more about it.

Richard is very premature, and he is an orphan. He was born to a young 14-year-old mother who wasn’t ever planning on having a child. She has epilepsy and her family decided to take her to the priest to try to “cure” her of the disease – instead of helping her at all, he raped her. A few months later Richard was born & given over to the orphanage because his mother didn’t have the means to raise him well.

To be very honest, we don’t know when he’ll be well enough to move to the orphanage or if he’ll even make it to that point. He’s still in the touch-and-go stage to see if he’ll develop well and stay healthy enough to survive. He is still very tiny and thin, and unfortunately some of the students have said the NICU nurses here don’t feed him very regularly. That’s what sparked my post a few days ago & a desperate plea for prayer. He needs all the prayer he can get!

Richard & the other babies in the NICU are some of the easiest patients to visit and immediately see how much their care differs here compared to what we have in the United States. In our advanced society, even the most premature baby has at least a 50% chance of survival thanks to all of the machines and equipment we have available to keep them alive. Here, having a 1.2lb baby born (like we did today) is almost like a death wish. Their chances of living for even another week are so slim, it often seems like it’s not even expected. Instead of having a plethora of tubes and machines to hook up to, these tiny babies lie in laundry baskets with blankets pulled tight over the top and a rubber-like sheet to catch any urine or poop that might escape. Almost all of them don’t have diapers – they are simply wrapped in whatever blanket their mother brings them and changed only when they see their mothers. If a baby is high-risk, they can be placed on the “resuscitation table”, which is basically a surface with a sheet on it where they can lie flat instead of being covered in blankets. The only real machine they have is to give the babies oxygen if they need it. The rest of the babies have no monitoring whatsoever, so if they were ever to stop breathing their chances of survival go from slim to none. They are rarely visited; the only time their mothers can see them is when they come in for scheduled breastfeeding times about twice a day. The nurses only seem to transport them back and forth, and for the rest of the time they are left alone. You can probably see why the NICU is one of our favorite places to visit as students – we are more than happy to cuddle with and care for these tiny ones all morning.

This place is like the opposite of what you would find in the United States, and I can’t blame you for reading this post in disgust as you imagine the conditions that these young babies are left to try to survive in. I had the same feeling of shock and heartbreak when I first walked in there and we began to realize how hard it is for these neonates to make it. Don’t get me wrong, there are a good handful of babies that are born big and healthy and are released to their families after a few days. But there are also so many more premature babies born in one day than you would see that frequently in an American hospital.

My first instinct was a desire to somehow give them a proper environment equipped with everything they would need to increase their chance of survival. But realistically, that is a very difficult dream to fulfill. Transforming that one ward would mean transforming the entire hospital, which would require Arusha to drastically change their healthcare system. It would require an acquirement of resources and finances that they simply don’t have access to. When you widen the problem to a more global perspective, the amount of change necessary to really make a difference is overwhelming.

It brings me back to a question I struggle with so much here. Why was I born into a good home, a stable family, a country that is so advanced and constantly developing to achieve bigger and better things, and these people are born into poor homes, broken families, and a country that is light-years away from meeting the “standards” of the United States? They don’t deserve to face such suffering and I don’t deserve to live in such luxury. My idealistic side so badly desires a world where everyone is on the same playing field and there is no inequality in the hand we’re dealt in life.

Being here has reminded me all too well that our world does not operate that way. Not in this age, anyways. For me, I know that this brokenness is a result of a fallen world laced with sin. Ever since the days of Adam and Eve sin has laid claim to the Earth, and we will never be able to live a day without pain or suffering until we see Jesus’s face again. No matter how much the conditions of the NICU and the hospital and this country break my heart, I know that I can hold onto that hope. I don’t have a good explanation for why Richard was born into the situation that he was and why the hospital doesn’t have the resources to be able to improve their wards enough to adequately care for their patients. But amidst the uncertainty, the one thing I do know is that God is good. Even in the pain, unfairness, and suffering He is good. Even in the best days, He is still so good. He has bigger plans than I will ever be able to see or comprehend, and I can trust that He is in control. When my heart has been threatened with overwhelming grief and frustration, this Truth is all I have.

I hope you are not discouraged or angered by Richard’s story. I was at first, but I want to encourage you to see the bright side that God has given him. As of today, he is alive. No matter how little he is or how long he lives, he is precious in the sight of the Lord and his life has impacted others, and me, in ways he may never know. Please continue to pray for him, his health and the days he has left here – whether that’s just one or a whole lifetime. And maybe take a minute or two to thank God for the blessing of today that He has given you, because that’s all we’re promised. His mercies are new every morning.

– Allie

Living the Dorm Life

July 1, 2014 / alliekappe / 5 Comments

So, I’m a few days in already and I haven’t said much about where I’m living. For all you know, I could be living in a house made of mud in the middle of the jungle! That’s the dream, actually, but that won’t come until my last week here when I stay with the Maasai. For now, here’s my humble abode:

It’s called the Arusha Njiro House, which is used exclusively for Work the World students. It’s very similar to a university dorm. There are rooms upstairs and a couple downstairs with 2 sets of bunk beds and a bathroom each. They also include mosquito nets around the beds, which was so funny to get used to last year. I can remember begging my mom for one of those in middle school, they looked like hanging “curtains” that some girls would put above their beds to make it look like a princess bed. Here, that’s hardly the purpose – protecting us from mosquitoes is much more important, but they look very similar. Moms, here’s a future tip: if your daughter ever pulls that out as a wish of hers, go for the cheap mosquito nets over the expensive American curtains!

The lower level also has a living room, dining room, and kitchen. There are 2 programme managers, Brian and Fidelis, who really take care of us during our time here. Witness, the cook, prepares all of our breakfast and dinner meals during the week. Susan also helps, and we have another housekeeper too. I’m only a few days in and they already feel like family. Last night, Witness and I were dancing to her favorite song while doing the dishes. They are incredibly welcoming and gracious, as many Tanzanians are. Outside is a large patio with lots of clotheslines (say goodbye to washers and dryers) and room to sit and play and soak up some sun when the clouds aren’t in the way. The whole property is surrounded by a high wall and “electric” fence that really isn’t on too much, but the sign on it is intimidating enough. Emmanuel and Innocent are the main security guards that work around the clock to make sure we’re safe. The staff here is incredible; they make this place feel like home!

There are 28 people in the house right now, and the most it can hold is 32. The entire main house is full of students and some of the support staff live in a house next door on the property. Fun fact: right now, the count is 27 girls and 1 guy. Yes, Horned Frogs, it’s true – the TCU ratio really can follow you outside of the Fort Worth bubble. Some girls have already figured out that there’s a group of 4 guys coming in this weekend, and they’re very excited. I couldn’t help but laugh at their disappointed reaction when they found out that they were dentistry students, not doctors!

I’m expecting the number of students in the house to change quite a bit while I’m here. Most of the girls that just arrived are only staying for 2 to 3 weeks, and there are at least one or two students coming in every weekend. A lot of the others came in groups as well, especially this past weekend. The fact that I traveled here alone was pretty surprising to most of them! There are 2 girls from Canada living in the same room as me and I’ve already been mistaken as a Canadian twice today. Maybe it’s time to start working on my Canadian accent! (Okay, you’re right. There is no Canadian accent. Except for the ‘Newfies’ from Newfoundland, as they call them. I’ll keep working on that British one instead.)

I hope to be able to share more about some of the girls here as I get to know them better. So far, they are all very wonderful and their backgrounds and cultural roots are fascinating to me. I think they know me so far as the American that asks a lot of questions… I’m okay with that reputation! I haven’t lived in a dorm for about 2 years and it will be a challenge getting used to that lifestyle again. My idealistic heart wants to be friends with everyone, but my realistic mind knows that it won’t be easy to build that many friendships in such a short time. Thankfully, everyone is friendly and welcoming regardless of whether or not they came in a group. That I can thank God for!

Kesho,

Allie

Nuggets

July 1, 2014 / alliekappe / Leave a comment

Have you ever ridden in a small, 15-seat bus packed with 20 people down a bumpy dirt road? That was the most exciting part of my day today. They’re called “dala-dalas” and they’re the public transport here in Tanzania that we’ll be using to go to and from the hospital every day. We spent the morning in a welcome orientation and then explored Arusha and got acquainted with some of the spots we’ll be using the most while we’re here – the hospital, the bank, the bus stop, the Maasai market. It wasn’t too exciting of a day, so I won’t bore you with all the details. Instead, here are some fun little tidbits (or “nuggets” as I like to call them) from the trip so far. Not long enough to have a chunk of a blog post, but worth mentioning. One thing you should know is that in the next 5 weeks, I’ll be learning a lot about two very different cultures – Tanzanian and European, primarily England. So far, it’s fascinating to say the least!

Here’s what I’ve got:

The most frequently used adjective I’ve heard so far is “brilliant”. Ex. Did you see those trousers in the market? They were brilliant! I kind of love it and I’m trying to work it into my vocabulary.
Instead of breakfast, lunch, and dinner, they call it breakfast, dinner, and tea. So when they ask you “What did you have for tea?” and you tell them you chose the masala tea, they will laugh at you… and then graciously correct you.
Last night, we accidentally used the wrong pan to make popcorn. Instead of hearing the pleasant ‘pop’ sound of the kernels, we heard one BIG ‘pop’ and found the bottom of the pan caved up like a big bubble. Turns out we ruined one of Witness’s pans, so the next day she came back from the store with microwave popcorn. Whoops!
When you’re the only American living with 28 other people, 25 of whom all have accents, it’s very hard not to want to talk in an accent with them. Side note: one day I want to ask them whether or not this is offensive. Stay tuned for an update.
UPDATE! I asked them. They laughed when I said people in America LOVE trying to imitate British accents, and they said it was the same for American accents in their countries but for them it’s much harder to imitate. Get excited for my perfected British accent when I get home!
3 girls here don’t have their luggage yet. 2 who came through Heathrow Airport from Canada said that the main luggage belt at the airport broke down that day and 200 people on their flight alone didn’t receive their bags in Nairobi – 18,000 bags never made it on the right aircraft. YIKES.
Mom and Dad, try not to read this one – apparently 2 of the terrorists behind a bombing in Arusha towards the end of May are patients at Mt. Meru Hospital. One of them is waiting to get an artificial leg! My protective side is skeptical but my medical side thinks this is so cool and is hoping to sneak around and find them one day.
In England, their “public” schools are the same as our “private” schools and vice versa. Why? I have no idea. Confusing? Yes.
They can also start specialty schools like med school and physical therapy school when they’re 18. For them, that’s university. One of the girls will be a doctor when she’s 24! Dang. For all my pre-med friends – I recommend moving to England stat.
The streets of Arusha are full of people trying to sell you things. When you let just one of them talk to you and if they go so far as to convince you to buy something, you are the new target for all of the nearby sellers. Prepare to be swarmed! Luckily, I came home today without a single purchase outside of a cheap phone and SIM card. I call that a win.
Canada Day is tomorrow, July 1^st! Two of my roomies are from outside of Toronto. Get out those flags and celebrate, Canadians.

Those are all my nuggets for today. Get excited for future posts full of interesting cultural facts and funny tidbits… or just my random list of notes. I’ve embarrassed myself enough already trying to get integrated into two different cultures, I’m sure this isn’t the end of it! Wish me luck 🙂

Lots of love from Arusha!

– Allie

Transition

June 29, 2014July 1, 2014 / alliekappe / Leave a comment

Going into this trip, my biggest fear was getting into the rhythm of Tanzanian life and making friends in the house. When I wasn’t engrossed in watching yet another movie, I spent a good chunk of my 20 hours in the air wondering what it would be like to meet everyone, to ride back from the airport by myself with the programme manager, to try to fit in with a group of people who have already been here for at least a week.

I cannot think of another way to describe my first couple of days in Arusha except to say that the Lord was here and praise Him, He PROVIDES. It wasn’t even 30 seconds after I had stepped past the line for tourist visas to go look for my luggage when a boy about my age turned to me and exclaimed, “Hey! Work the World!” Side note: for those of you who don’t know, Work the World is the organization I’m volunteering with here – check out their website if you have time (www.worktheworld.com), but all you really need to know for now is that they sent me a cool t-shirt to wear on the plane. My sleep-deprived, half-blind self had just made the decision to take out one of my contacts because it was so dried up from my long travel days and my eye refused to put up with it any longer. Somehow, I managed to pull myself together despite my blurry vision as I met the group of 5 girls and guys that were living at the Arusha house too and had just returned from a weekend trip to Zanzibar. My first 5 minutes in the country was met with God’s immediate provision for my biggest prayer and a humble reminder that He is in control.

Despite not having slept for almost my entire second flight, I decided to jump into the action & went out to dinner with the returning group. The 3 boys – Hash, Ishi, and Hamza – were just finishing up their placements and are starting their climb on Kilimanjaro today. They’re all from Manchester, England and are planning on coming back to work in Arusha for a year after they go home to celebrate Ramadan with their families. One of the girls, Jen is from Florida but works with a different program here. The last girl, Linda, is from Ireland (fun fact – she is Miss Tipperary and competes for Miss Ireland 3 days after she gets home) and will be here for two more weeks. The night ended with them showing me videos from their trip to Zanzibar. I won’t give away too much yet, but a visit there is definitely on my calendar!

I have so much I could write about in just my first two days here, but I’ll end this post with one more story about our adventure on Sunday afternoon. The Swahili language teacher invited all of us to his daughter Joann’s “holy communion” party. I was just as confused as you probably are right now too! It’s a Catholic ritual, but none of the Catholics I’ve known have mentioned it. Some of the other girls from England and Ireland said they were very common there… maybe it’s just more popular on this side of the Atlantic. Here, it’s a custom to throw a big party for the child’s first communion when they’re around 10 years old. The only thing I can think of to compare it to is a Jewish bar/bat mitzvah, which I attended quite a few of back in middle school. We were the only wazungu (white people) there, and it was crazy and exhilarating and fascinating. Lots of people, celebrating, dancing, gift giving, and it all ended with a feast. We weren’t expecting it to be that long but we ended up staying for 4 hours. Thankfully we only came to the afternoon part; most of the people had been there since 9 in the morning! The Tanzanians really know how to celebrate.

I went into this trip wondering if I’d be able to make it 5 whole weeks, and already on day 2 I’m wondering why I didn’t try to convince my parents to let me stay longer. There is so much I want to do here and not enough time to do it all. Tomorrow we go into Arusha to explore, and the next day is our hospital orientation. More stories to come!

– Allie

It’s AFRICA DAY!

June 27, 2014 / alliekappe / Leave a comment

As a kid, my favorite holiday was Christmas. Before I really understood the spiritual meaning behind it, I loved the immense excitement that surrounded that one day. A whole month dedicated to shopping for gifts, decorating the house and tree, baking Christmas cookies, and going to countless parties and White Elephant gift exchanges and family reunions to celebrate the “most wonderful time of the year”. The minute the weather started to get colder in the fall, most of my attention was directed toward the anticipation of Christmas. And yet every year that month goes by faster than all the others and before I know it we’re buying champagne (okay.. sparking grape juice) and ringing in the New Year again.

The best way I can think of to describe today is like Christmas. Since December 2013 when I spent almost my entire winter break convincing my parents to let me go on (and financially support – thanks ‘rents!) this adventure, I have been waiting for this day. I would even argue to say that this anticipation started on June 21st, 2013 when I returned from my first trip to Tanzania last summer. 2 weeks was a perfect amount of time to get my first exposure to all that is Tanzania… but when I sat in the airport waiting to board my flight home and hoped that it would get cancelled more than I desired to be back on home soil, I knew that just 2 weeks wasn’t enough.

Now, I’m sitting at the dining room table of my temporary home (#kiltzlandia) trying to soak up my last moments here and wondering if I’ve gone just a leetle crazy. 5 weeks is no quick trip; by the time I get back a whole month will have passed, the World Cup will be over, and my 10-month-old niece Talitha will be one week away from her first birthday. But just like the Christmas season, I have a feeling this may be one of the fastest 5 weeks of my life. I have a theory that the best & most exciting seasons of life also happen to pass by the fastest. Even though 5 weeks seems like an eternity from where I’m standing now, one of my biggest prayers is that it will go by so slowly. I hope that I will have enough time to soak in as much as I can of the culture, the people, & the adventures that are waiting for me on the other side of the ocean.

At this very moment my emotions are battling between nervous anticipation and joy-filled excitement. Amidst all of my anxiety and last-minute jitters, my biggest comfort has come from knowing that the Lord is going to be with me on this entire trip. I pray that each day the hope that He gives me will anchor my soul in Him (Hebrews 6:19).

SO… here we go. 🙂 My most anticipated adventure of the summer, my dream come true, crossin’ my fingers that it’s God’s plan too. Try to excuse that unintentional rhyme. The next time you hear from me, I’ll be in my Tanzanian home!

– Allie

The art of storytelling

June 18, 2014June 23, 2014 / alliekappe / 1 Comment

I’m going to be honest, I feel pretty cheesy right now. As much as I love writing and stories, I’ve never been one to really enjoy sharing my own. In my head, it sounds like a great idea. But then I give it a little more of a realistic thought and realize that I actually hate that idea. Starting a blog means having to sit down and try to discern what’s going through my mind – and then hitting a little button that shares it with the world. Not just one person, anyone who cares to take a few seconds to read it (although right now, I’m pretty sure I’m closer to the ‘one person’ mark).

That thought is already starting to give me butterflies – the anxious, sick-to-your-stomach kind, not the cute fluttery kind. My approval-craving mind is creeping towards how to best compose each post, how to balance serious and poignant thoughts with witty comedic relief, and how I will ever convince myself to actually hit the ‘publish’ button. Already I’ve spent way too much time re-reading my own words and wondering if this whole ‘sharing my story’ thing is really going to be worth it.

Unfortunately, God has other plans. This past semester, He has taught me so much about the power of stories. During one short week in Belize, our mission trip’s most frequent conversation starter became ‘so, what’s your story?’ and that simple phrase pushed me farther out of my comfortable little shell than I’ve ever been pushed before. It may not seem like that big of a deal to some people, but sharing my own story brought back memories of past experiences that I wasn’t very excited to remember, much less share with others. God used that week to show me His incredible sovereignty in every single moment of my life and His ability to use my brokenness for His glory. But more importantly, He revealed so much of Himself through other people’s stories – my small group leaders, my closest friends, a random girl I found myself sitting next to on the bus on the way back to the hotel. That week He began to cultivate in me a desire to hear the stories of others and learn how to share my own.

Sounds like a perfect “mission trip lesson”, right? Pretty and nice and all tied up with a bow? Not quite. This idea of sharing stories is a lot easier to talk about than it is to actually put into practice. The conviction that God placed on my heart was brutally attacked by the world & my own sinful heart, both of which quickly pulled out the big guns like ‘desire for approval’, ‘fear of vulnerability’, ‘waste of time’ and countless other lies about the consequences of storytelling. In just a couple short months, I went from revealing the darkest parts of me to complete strangers on a dock floating in the Caribbean Sea to barely being able to honestly answer the simple question of ‘how are you?’ to some of my closest friends. I had allowed those lies to seep into my mind and convince me that not even a sentence about how I was doing that day was worth sharing.

I wish I could say that the Lord has fully revealed His truth amidst these lies and convicted me of my sin and I can now comfortably share my story with the Trader Joe’s clerk as she rings up my groceries, but that’s not true. He has slowly started to work on that walled-in part of me, but sometimes it takes time for the Lord to chisel away deeply rooted fears and mold my heart to resemble His just a little bit more. So yes, I’m still working on answering ‘how are you?’ with a little more depth than ‘I’m good! How are you?’. But where God begins a good work, He promises to bring it to completion (Ephesians 1:6). Not on my own timeline, and not to full completion until I’m standing face-to-face with Him, but in His own perfect timing.

God has given me this past month to rest, spend more time with Him, and start to get used to this idea of sharing more of myself with others. The days have been slow and the rest has been sweet, but in 8 short days He will be throwing me into an adventure that will require more trust and vulnerability than I’m used to. I’ll be spending 5 weeks across the Atlantic learning more about the country I fell in love with last summer, meeting new people, working in new environments, and hopefully going on a lot of adventures. As incredible as that sounds, I know that He has not given me this opportunity just to have a good time and check “travel back to Tanzania” off my summer bucket list. This trip will give me a chance to hear so many new stories, share my own, and most importantly tell people about His. As comfortable as the inside of my leetle shell is, He’s going to be pushing me very far out of it and I hope to fully embrace the challenge. Just the thought of what’s to come fills me with just about every emotion you can imagine.

I hope to use this blog as a way to share my adventures and stories with whoever cares to read about them. Prepare to read about the good days, the bad days, and everything in between. They will definitely not be formal, organized, and have a perfect balance of insight and wit, I can promise you that. Maybe they’ll make you laugh/smile/cry (doubtful – I’m not one for tears), maybe you’ll enjoy them, maybe they will simply serve as a great way to procrastinate from whatever else you should be doing. Regardless of what leads you to them, I hope that each one reveals a little more about me and a lot more about Jesus. I can’t wait to see what God does with this blog (even if it just acts as my own memory keepsake) and the next 5 weeks!

– Allie