The past four years have been formed to the rhythm of pounding keyboards, frantic mouse clicks, Thursday night deadlines and Friday after Chapel meetings - all will echo on in my mind for a while.
My most productive thinking usually begins somewhere after 9 p.m., and tonight I had a thought, closer to 1 a.m. of sharing my poetry on the blog – a series of sorts. A project. An incentive to write things that don't involve reporting on what's happening at school.
Some more words on your newsfeed, but I had to get them out of my head.
This week began my tenure as the editor of a newspaper I've contributed to for three years of my life and let me tell you what it feels like. Put excitement, a dash of dread, a heavy dose of no sleep, an inbox busting at the seems, a couple thousand words from my brain, a bag of single origin coffee beans, computer-screen-strained eyes, and four thousand unread newspapers in a blender, pour it into your favorite mug and drink it with a straw.
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
We pulled up to the bank of the Nile and tumbled out of the van for our river safari. It wasn’t my first rodeo here. While the rest of my group cooed at the disgusting baboons slinking nearby, I was not impressed. They are not nice monkeys, you know. But I suppose if it was your first time to be 10 feet away from a real live wild primate, it would be sort of a surreal experience of nature, even if the baboons are actually very ugly.
“All Joy reminds. It is never a possession, always a desire for something longer ago or further away or still 'about to be'." – C.S. Lewis
There are moments sometimes in life that knock the breath out of us, moments when you wake up with a Facebook notification that makes you cry. Today, Hudson Wade, 11-year-old son of Kirk and Laura Wade, died after a four-month battle with leukemia.
Hudson was diagnosed with leukemia in September and since that day, family and friends have joined in helping Hudson and his family face the battle against cancer. It’s been a beautifully messy story, a testament to God’s grace amidst utter confusion and pain.
Do you ever have a moment where you look around and think, “This. Is. Crazy."
I found myself thinking that last week as I was driven by Rogers and Geoffrey across the Ugandan countryside to retrieve some prisoners’ files that were left at our hotel (which, might I add, was still under construction while we stayed there.)
I laughed to myself in the car.
How did I get here.
I’ve been teaching a class at Op Camp’s Fun Academy, a summer program offering a variety of classes for the campers. Over the last two days I have attempted to work on creative writing skills with my class of around 15 elementary students. We ripped apart old books and I tried so very hard to be creative and fun and inspiring. Yet part of me feels like I failed.