I have been told I haven’t been posting enough on my blog. While that is true there are immense treasures I have stowed away in my heart throughout this year that I chose to keep hidden. Let me recap you on some of the goings on in the life of Elissa.

After my return from my second trip to Africa the beginning of January, I felt challenged and convicted in regards to serving the least. I had the greatest of intentions in being available to go and serve wherever needed, whenever possible. God spoke directly to my heart and challenged me to serve and love here in Tennessee. My prayer life since then has become intentional of finding what that exact avenue would be. No immediate answer arose.

I began babysitting regularly for a family in January which provided a mutual benefit for all parties involved: I needed to pay off debt and my friends needed child care. It was good deal all round.

February through August proved to be the hardest months I have ever faced as I endured change in major areas of life including relationships, job, finances, etc.  To add insult to injury, the one voice I needed to hear the most through the trying season seemed absent. Where was God when I so desperately needed him? Did he even care what I was facing?

Months passed with continual struggle but little change. The hardest thing was the absence of understanding of what the change was for. Then one day, like someone turned the light on in a dark room, the cloud lifted. Now it is nearly the end of 2011 and my heart is in a different state than when the year began. I am debt free, light hearted, joyful and at peace. More importantly, God has answered my fervent prayer and I now have a purpose and a plan. Are you ready to know what that is?

Before I share I want to stress that God was in fact talking even in the moments I felt he was silent. I believe this season provided a different way of listening for him which produced a new level of faith.

So, in 2012 I will be applying to become a foster parent here in Nashville. My mom asked me this summer if I had ever thought of fostering since my brother and his wife had (they went on to adopt the two siblings). I wrote it off. As if I could or should do something like that in my state of singleness. Then it hit me. Really, it was God speaking directly to my heart. Why not me? Why am I limiting my own ability?

I have worked through many questions, concerns and struggles as I have prayed through this venture. I have surrendered my ways of thinking and operating for those of Christ. I am utterly broken for children that are forgotten and in need of love. It has been confirmed numerous times and continues to be that this is my path where I am to serve. How could I not open my life and home to a child who is desperate for it? I put my YES on the table a long time ago and I meant it.

There are a couple things I am working on so that I will be in a stable position to go forward with the fostering process. Securing an appropriate work schedule and housing are first and foremost on the list. Please join me in this through prayer that God would be glorified in each and every step.

2011 was a hard year. It was a rather fast year as well. I am thankful for God taking me through the hard things of life, teaching me to preserve when I wanted to often give up and showing me that with Him I will come out on the other side stronger. Our God is faithful! Stay tuned for regular updates. For those who think I should up my blog postings, be careful what you wish for. You might just get more than you bargained for!

It all started with an unexpected but much appreciated day off. Since I am not home on a regular basis I decided that today would be a day to catch up on my “to do” list. After homemade breakfast with my roommate (breakfast burritos = tasty) and a long overdue phone date with a dear friend, I made a list of my tasks for the day.

I was moving right along checking things off left and right when I decided it was time to shower. It was nearly noon and time to run errands around town.

I was drying my hair with a round brush that wasn’t working the way I wanted it to so I switched to a different brush. The chunk of hair I was working with proceeded to get tangled around the brush. I pulled and the tangle tangled tighter. I pulled again and it hurt.

Frustrated and perplexed, I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn’t decide whether to laugh, cry or yell. I nearly panicked at the thought of having to cut my hair free. That’s the last thing I wanted to do.

So I composed myself and asked my self “What would MacGyver do?“ Most of my hair was still wet accept for the part that was stuck in the brush. I literally let the brush go and it just hung there like a bug stuck in a spider web.

MacGyver mode kicked in. I decided to keep wetting my hair under the shower faucet in hopes that the wet strands would aid in freeing themselves. I tugged and pulled and winced. One… two… three times my head went under the faucet. I tugged and pulled and winced some more but had to take a break. I looked in the mirror at the still tangled mess and said “this is what my life feels like right now.” I felt defeated and nearly started to cry. I wanted to quit and cut my hair accept I felt a peace come over me.

My life does feel like a tangled, messy, jumbled mess. There appears to be no resolution in sight. There has been so much change this year I feel raw, fragile and broken. Sometimes I just want to give up.

As the last strand of hair came free, I sensed the Lord say, “Just like your hair came free even when it seemed impossible, so your life will move from what you think is a jumbled mess and you will experience freedom. Be patient. Trust me. The end is near.”

What would have happen to my hair if I decided to quit and cut it all free (other than an emergency run to a hair salon and bruised ego)?

This season has been hard, to say the least. Friendships and other pertinent relationships have been changed or lost. I see a series of tough decisions to be made in the near future that seem to have no answers. I am in a season of life where nothing makes sense. I can’t see a reason for all this change. I am not happy and I don’t how to get myself there. I am not patient and the name of the game is none other than WAIT. (Wow writing that sure sounds selfish-guess I need Jesus.)

To add insult to injury, the ONE voice I have so desperately needed to hear seems to be silent. I am tired. I am worn out. I am frustrated.

What on earth is God doing?

Who knew it would take an incident of a tangled mess of hair and a brush to speak insight into my situation?

The moral of the story: make sure you use the right brush to dry your hair…

In all seriousness, today’s fiasco taught this: stay calm, be patient, persevere and never, no matter the circumstances, give up. Yes it might hurt and stretch and pull you in ways you didn’t think were possible. There is a reason for the wait and struggle. If you take the easy way out you will miss some of the greatest blessings in disguise. Don’t forget in the dark what you learned in the light! God is good and He loves you. It’s in your best interest to let Him.

I seem to be hearing THIS song on a regular basis and thank Laura Story for penning such an honest and vulnerable lyric that speaks to my heart even when I can’t find the words. I encourage you to take a listen and allow the Holy Spirit to challenge and convict you.

And please brush wisely or face your own tangled mess 

Bless you all.

E

As I write this post it stands at $940. By my estimate if everything goes according to plan, it should ALL be paid by the beginning of June. I have learned so much in the process. My faith has grown and I am eager to experience true victory in this area. It really isn’t about getting from point A to point B, but all about the character development in the process.

HICCUP: A car accident on Monday has pushed my sweet success back another month. Luckily my insurance is taking care of the repairs and everything in between, leaving me to only pay my deductible.

I feel caught in the middle of a tug-of-war. I am trying not to worry about the finances and the damper it puts on my plans, all while worry creeps in. In the grand scheme of things, a month or two doesn’t make that much of a difference.

What I came to realize very quickly is the “tug-of-war” isn’t here on earth but in the spiritual realm. Satan recognizes victory in the making. No matter how big or small, he will do WHATEVER it takes to make sure that victory doesn’t happen.

The day of the accident I felt like a moving target. There were a couple of other near-misses that could have involved me and another vehicle or more. My nerves were raw and I was getting used to a rental car – a hearse is more like it. However, I had this nagging feeling that I had a spiritual target on my head and Satan was stopping at nothing to see harm come to me.

Here is what I know:

• The accident could have been so much worse; both parties walked away without injury and damage was only on my car.
• No mean words were exchanged and the police officer was really funny.
• My car is being fixed. No matter what financial burden this presented, I am still moving forward with the same goals to pay off my debt.
• I must be doing something right if Satan feels so threatened.

THERE WILL BE VICTORY. I am confident in God’s faithfulness and am grateful for His protection.

He is good.

He is all.

These are left over treasures on sale now to you for $10.

Colors Available:

Orange

Peach

Pink

Blue (2)

Also….

I am selling the LOVE t’shirts again, this time at a discount!! That’s right! You can wear the LOVE by purchasing this shirt for $10. All proceeds go towards raising orphan awareness.

Available Sizes:

Small (16)

Medium (19)

Large (2)

X-Large (7)

And guess what??!!!!?? I am heading back to Africa this coming December with Visiting Orphans, this time to Uganda and Kenya.

To purchase either a shirt and/or a necklace, go to the MERCHANDISE tab here my blog and use the DONATE button.

Get ‘em while they last!!!!!

I have such passion to be passionate about something. In the grand scheme of things, my heart is to see the Kingdom of God come to be here on earth, to love the least, to go and serve and be a light where there is none. There is just one hiccup:

What’s my THING???

A cause or idea that births passion…the thing that is the driving force to see lives changed for the cause of Christ…the thing that provides a catalyst to share the gospel through the physical and spiritual…

After many mission trips, including my most recent ventures to Africa, I guess I was hoping that my THING would make itself clear and I would come back and dive in. It hasn’t. Yet.

I do know that this current season is a prerequisite for anything that is to come. I still feel something big is on the horizon and it is important to see this season through so it can be a stepping stone into the next season.

So, one step at a time. In the meantime, I am clinging to the truth of these lyrics in THIS song.

When will we all realize that life is not about us but about glorifying the One who gave us life?

It comes down to keeping eyes and ears on Jesus. This is such a pivotal time. I count it an honor to have so much time available to me to seek His face. I will only hear God to the extent I invest in quieting myself enough to listen to him.

There is a reason for the wait. God is more concerned with who we are becoming while we wait than what we are waiting for!

It’s a beautiful day here in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. The sun is shining, not a cloud in the sky, the breeze is blowing and the familiarity of the city is speaking loudly. It is so good to be back! So much of my heart was left behind 6 months ago as God broke me for this nation and its people.

Today is Day 1 of our time in Korah. Korah mean “cursed” in Amharic and this village of outcasts sits next to the city dump. Orphans, widows, lepers, prostitutes, you name it. All reside in this forsaken place but are not forgotten in God’s eyes. That is very evident.

The team eagerly ate breakfast and loaded up and headed out to a place that holds so much hope and promise. We drove down the streets close to where we were staying, Loveto, and turned down the road that leads to Korah. Where is that smell I remember? 6 months ago you were hit with a brick wall of foul, rotten, and wet funk. It was so distinct you knew you were in the right place. Now, it was barely there. Maybe it is because the city isn’t actively using the dump, or maybe because the rainy season has passed. 6 months ago the shock of it all was more than many of us could handle or process. Today, Korah was an altogether different place.

We pulled down the long, bumpy path down to where the church is located. What was muddy and littered with human waste was dry. The mobs and mobs of children that greeted us last time were narrowed down to around 65. We exited the bus and our hands were immediately filled with small, brown-toned, beautiful fingers. Sammy and Summer came and met us. It was so great to see their faces and squeeze them.

Since most had never experienced Korah, we were taken on a tour of the grounds which included visiting the hospital. The same little leper man who was weaving rugs was still there. This time he was sporting a New York Yankees hat. Tymm, our leader, was bewildered and demanded a photo be taken for proof. Even in Ethiopia people still have their teams (it was probably a gift but Tymm would accept no other explanation).

We stopped by the gift shop and gladly spent our newly acquired Birr to support the cause of the hospital. I came away with one of the woven rugs, a runner and placemat set and a handmade pillow case.

We loaded up in the vans again and headed back to the guest house for lunch. We came back to Korah and were led down the maze of roads that make up Korah and went on home visits. Tymm and his wife Laura (my teammate from the first trip) sponsor a child that goes to the boarding school. Tymm was able to visit that child’s family here at Korah. I think he may have walked away feeling more blessed but the family would beg to differ. It’s a beautiful toss up. A few more home visits came and went and we ended up back at the church.

Our time at Korah ended a bit early due to previous conflicts with another group the day before. The leadership was concerned for our safety and thought it best for us to just come back as planned the next day and let the dust settle. Thus we ended up with a free afternoon.

The team ended up accompanying Tymm to the gravesite of his first adopted child, Brighton. I had the amazing opportunity of experiencing Brighton’s grave back in June with Laura. We had planned that I would go with Tymm to show him the grave.

Tymm and I headed down to the grave first and the team came down a bit later to give him some time. I cannot begin to understand the depth of sorrow Tymm and Laura feel but I am grateful I could lend support to Tymm as he came face to face with his own history. Brighton was only 76 days old when he died. I saw Brighton’s picture standing with Tymm at the grave. Such a beautiful boy… Check out their unbelievable story here and here.

It was an experience I cannot put into words. To see this come full circle with the Hoffman family is something I will always remember. The rest of the team helped clear the surrounding areas around the grave and laid some fresh flowers.

Back to the guesthouse we went to eat dinner. Summer came by and shared her heart of how Project 61 came to be and to pow-wow with us about the next day’s events.

Emotions are flying high tonight. Korah is nothing like it was before. It’s a God thing. The hope that I knew was in store is now here and God is doing something incredible. 250 kids are out of the dump and in school where promising futures are held for them. From the smells to the familiar faces, Korah is rising above.

Today ends our time in Rwanda. I knew I would like it but what I didn’t expect was to have my heart stolen. I love Rwanda in all of its history, the present and what lies ahead. I look forward to the day I can come back and stay for longer than a few days.

We headed back to Kigali early this morning. Before we grabbed lunch we stopped at Hôtel des Mille Collines, the hotel from Hotel Rwanda. We were greeted by the hotel staff, one including Zozo who worked at the hotel during the genocide. He led us down to the infamous pool where over 1,000 people drank being that it was the only source of water available.

Zozo is a sweet and kind man that has a story. He has experienced so much yet the smile that shone on his face was pure and genuine. What a gracious man to share a few minutes with us.

We ate lunch then went to an indoor market to shop. The market was more like a flea market by our standards. There were rows and rows of goods. It ended up being a maze trying to get back to the starting point while dodging vendors. I came away with a few good finds and.

The time came to load up and head to the airport. We said good bye to Jane our wonderful guide and our awesome driver. All our bags made it through security while only a few of us got searched, well more like groped. All 13 team members checked in and we headed to our gate. We were going to Ethiopia!

Touched down in Addis!!!! It was like coming home. Those of us who had gone 6 months ago prepared the rest of the team of what to encounter as we went through the airport: long wait in the visa line, even longer wait to clear customs, baggage claim hang ups…everything that could make you pull out your hair.

When we made our way to the visa line, what took us 2 hours 6 months ago only took us 20 minutes. We flew!!! My visa was written up by the same gentleman that wrote it before. He welcomed me back with a smile. We then made our way to clear customs. Where are all the people? It’s just us. We flew through that as well. This is too good to be true!!! We headed out to pick up luggage and expected to have to place each piece through security once more but the attendant opened the gate and allowed us all through without having too. What? How does this happen? The favor of the Lord was definitely upon us. The 5 veterans just stared at each other utter amazement. The only wait time we had was waiting for our guide and vans to pick us up and that was because we took less time than they anticipated.

Nebiat, one of our translators/guides from our previous trip, greeted us inside. It was so good to see him again. It’s nice to know people, the culture, the food, etc. It was comfortable.

I had a smile from ear to ear the rest of the night. How I love Ethiopia. We drove to our guest house and I was amazed I knew exactly where we were. Dinner was served-pizza-and the gang hung out for the rest of the night.

All the girls prayed together and Rachel, Jennifer and I explained what to expect at Korah the next two days. Korah…mixed emotions filled me as I thought about when I was there before. How could I prepare myself for what to expect this time let alone those who have never experienced it?

God is faithful and sovereign. All I can do is rest in Him and follow his leading. Tomorrow is going to be a very emotional day.

The church itself has history. During the genocide, thousands of people took refuge there thinking they would be unharmed in a place of worship. It turns out that it made it easier for those seeking to kill. The church was lit on fire and those inside died.

We experienced the Catholic service with the children and then made the long trek back down the hill. We then toured where there are schools that Noel Orphanage sends some children to. We came upon a large field that sat next to a memorial. That memorial contained the remains of those that died in the church that horrible day in 1994. What history. As I contemplated the memorial and all that it entailed, I saw my sweet Jean Claude come running to me. My heart was happy as he jumped in my arms for a hug. He found me!

We sat and played with the children in the field and a tremendous peace flowed. There is nothing quite like being with kids who love so easily. Jean Claude took his spot in my lap while other kids played peek-a-boo around me. For a while I felt like a jungle gym with kids throwing their arms around me for hugs.

We walked back to the orphanage and helped feed the girls their lunch. We were invited to enjoy a three course meal with the directors of the orphanage and of The Point Foundation, which aids in the orphanage’s needs.

After lunch we went to a big warehouse and watched several young men drum their lives away. They were using small broken sticks for drumsticks that would cause them to hit their fingers. The broken sticks would break even smaller, making them go look for more. The drumming continued as special dancing and singing and acrobatics were performed by the children. Just goes to show that you go to love on kids and they love on you more. Those kids need us but I am still convinced that we need them more!

After the talent display we went and held more babies, play more volleyball and prepared ourselves to say goodbye. Before I left, I found a jump rope that we didn’t give out and hid it in my pocket. I grabbed Jean Claude’s hand and we slipped away unnoticed to an area where there were no kids around. I gave him the jump rope and told him it was just for him. I told him that Jesus loves him and that I loved him too. That’s what it’s all about: Jesus’ love for him. I just got to be part of it.

I will never forget that sweet time in an open field with beautiful faces and my sweet Jean Claude cuddling in my lap. I think I tasted heaven.

Jean Claude is in front of me in the purple sweater

“The Orphanage Noël was founded in 1955 by Mgr. Bigirumwami, bishop of Nyundo from 1952 until 1973. It got the name ‘Noël’ because it received the first children on Christmas day. It was meant to take care of sick children, who didn’t have a mother anymore.

During the war in Rwanda from April 1994 until September 1994 the children and the headmistress Athanasie remained in the refugee camp of Goma (Congo). Thanks to the dedication of Athanasie and the help of friends, the children of the Orphanage Noël escaped the genocide. Athanasie had fled with 59 children and when she returned to Nyundo in September 1994 there were 230 orphans. In November 1995 there were 550 orphans. In 2010, there are nearly 700 orphans being cared for by the orphanage, as well as a number of physically and mentally disabled.

Sixteen years after the genocide the number of young orphans is increasing, but now as a consequence of aids. One of the biggest supporters of the Orphanage Noel is Point Foundation, based in the UK. Over the last few years, Point Foundation have built new shower and toilet blocks, refurbished buildings, helped with funding for daily needs such as foods, medicines, clothing, shoes, bedding, and in October 2010, opened a library for the children.” Check out there website here

As we entered the gates of the orphanage and exited off our bus we were immediately greeted by beautiful smiles. We were then taken on a tour of the grounds, room by room. There were three rooms full of babies including a set of triplets and one baby that was just 3 ½ weeks old.

We were entertained by toddlers singing in their native tongue. They started to sing Frère Jacques and I got excited and started singing with them since it was one song in French I knew. Good times! After the singing was over, it was a mad dash through the mob of toddlers to get some lovin’.

We enjoyed the rest of our tour as we saw where the older kids play, where the special needs kids hang out and where the elderly rest. We encountered a woman who was 112 years old. Her health was ailing and her grandson seemed so concerned for her. As a group, we prayed over her for healing. During that prayer I sensed God say that she would be healed…in Heaven! I prayed that God would take her if it was her time.

I don’t know how you follow up such a story than to continue the tour and see where the livestock is kept. We made our way through a winding path and were soon greeted by a distinct odor of manure and animals. I have never seen such large hogs as were presented to us. There was one that was the size of a miniature pony-NO JOKE! We had a teenager stand next to it to show its size and that teenager looked more like a toddler next to it. Guess everything is bigger in Belgium since that’s where the hog came from…

We took a break for lunch and then came back to play with the kids. As I got off the bus I felt a hand slip into mine. I looked down and saw a sweet boy with a captivating smile. I found out his name is Jean Claude and he didn’t leave my side if he could help it. We passed out bracelets, braving the swarm of kids’ waving arms trying to get their share. The last thing I did before we left was play volleyball in the rain with some pretty incredible kids.

We packed up, went to the guest house to change for dinner then headed down to Lake Kivu for dinner. Before we ate we all ventured down to the shore for pictures and a closer look. A couple rented a jet ski and I was part of a group rented a boat. We floated all the way to the Congo border and then came back. We only had one minor scare of a boat with armed guards passing us by…those guns were BIG. They didn’t give us a second thought and continued on their way.

We could see the Volcano standing in magnificence out in the distance. We were told at night you could see the orange hue coming from the top as it glowed in activity.

We landed ashore and ate dinner on the terrace. The evening ended with team time and much needed processing. It had been an emotional couple of days and my eyes had yet to dry. God is doing something here…it’s humbling to be included in it.

It’s a beautiful day here in Kigali. The sun is shining with a little bit of cloud cover. We are going to the Genocide Memorial. It’s a somber feeling. Humbling, really. So much transpired in the history of Rwanda and I am walking the sod of such reality. There are really no words.

______________________________

We made it to the Memorial and it was every bit beautiful and hard and emotional as I imagined. There were different rooms setting the stage from the early threats of war to the ultimate demise of 1 million people in a few short months. Innocent men and women, children, the elderly and those who could do nothing to fight back-all gone in a brutal attack.

We walked the rooms where remains of bones lay in perfect order. We saw displays of the clothing worn by the victims, one outfit sporting Cornell University. Rows upon rows line one display depicting faces of innocence lost. The last room before exiting outside was of specific stories of children dying. Here is an excerpt:

Francine Murengezi Ingabire 

Age: 12
Favourite sport: Swimming
Favourite food: Eggs and chips
Favourite drink: Milk and Fanta tropical
Best friend: Her elder sister Claudette
Cause of death: Hacked by machete

There are more just like this with even younger children and more horrifying stories. I don’t think one of us walked out of that memorial with a dry eye. If we did, it was from sheer shock. There is no way to comprehend the magnitude of what these people have endured.

We toured the rest of the memorial outside. Gardens were blooming in memorium of those who died. There are mass graves set up on the perimeter along with a wall bearing the names of the deceased. There are not as many names as bodies as most have been left unidentifiable.

The particular memorial we visited, Kigali Memorial Center, is one of seven memorials throughout Rwanda. Not only does it pay tribute to its own history but other massacres around the world just like it.

This song by Chris Tomlin was on my iPod as we were waiting for everyone to complete the tour. They lyrics sang of God’s faithfulness and I heard him speak it over Rwanda:

Be still, there is a healer
His love is deeper than the sea
His mercy, it is unfailing
His arms are a fortress for the weak

Let faith arise
Let faith arise

I lift my hands to believe again
You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart, these things I remember
You are faithful, God, forever

Be still, there is a river
That flows from Calvary’s tree
A fountain for the thirsty
Pure grace that washes over me

So let faith arise
Let faith arise
Open my eyes
Open my eyes

Click here to listen

We came to find out that remains are still being uncovered to this day, 16 years later. I will spare you the pictures we took while there and let your imagination take you on a journey. If you would like to see more information on the memorial, go here and visit their beautiful website.

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We left the memorial with vivid images ingrained on our minds and hearts. After loading the bus we started our 3 hour journey to Gesenyi, which is near the Congo border.

Winding roads, mountainous terrain, lush green topography, brewing storms, and a couple volcanoes painted the canvas for our drive. I fought back tears as I could imagine vivid scenes as Left to Tell, Hotel Rwanda and Beyond the Gates refreshed my vulnerable memory. History came to life in that 3 hours but somehow hope and restoration seem thick and suffocating. What these people have been through has not stopped the resilience I saw displayed in the faces of passersby, roadside store patrons, and children running toward the bus shouting “mzungus.”

God is at work here. Rwanda is not forgotten. They are a proud, beautiful people.

____________________________

After about three hours we arrived at our guest home. The Presyterian Guest home is just miles away from beautiful Lake Kivu, the infamous Lake thousands crossed during their exodus to safety.

We didn’t have time to unpack when we discovered the orphanage we were to visit was another hour away. Lunch would be put on hold so we could go and love. It was not a long drive but it took quite a long time to drive as the roads were bumpy and unstable. Up ‘til now, the roads have been smoothly paved and absent of speed bumps like the ones we found in Uganda. So when we found this stretch that wasn’t as well kept, it took us back to a strange familiarity.

We arrived at Imbabazi Orphange, a home started by American Rosamond Carr to house those orphaned by the 1994 genocide. Imbabazi mean “a place where you will receive all the love and care a mother would give.” Set at the foothills of the Virunga Volcanoes, such love and care was depicted in the lives and faces of those that live there and the grounds on which the orphanage stands. Lush gardens, idyllic vista views and even Rosamond’s grave are the staples of this fortress. It’s a haven. The children are well taken care of. Click here to see their ministry.

We spent just a few short hours with the Imbabazi family before making the bumpy trek back to our guest home. I was left inspired and hopeful for the future that is to come for Imbabazi. Great things are being done there. God is good.

Tonight is team time. It’s only been two days here in Rwanda but so much emotion and burden has stuck each of us. It’s times like these that draw 13 unsuspecting hearts together for all eternity.

So, what does Rwanda do for New Year’s? Well we were hearing a church right next door worshipping and praising God for quite some time and without reservation or fear of volume. We walked outside as we heard fireworks going off in the distance. I think we could learn a thing or two about ringing in the new year with worship, praise and God’s word. Apparently leading up to midnight they are thanking God for the blessings that occurred during the year. They will take a break and on New Year’s Day they come back to church and thank God for what is to come.

I was grateful for a hot shower and a comfortable bed that night. It was a long and emotional day. What a beautiful way to spend a holiday than with some pretty incredible people.