Putting my feet in.

Sometimes we can’t see past our fears long enough to actually LIVE our lives. Sometimes we fear SO MUCH that we would rather NEVER FEEL anything

ever

again

than risk having a dream. I am guilty of it all! I’ll be honest, it’s 7 months into our dreaming-moving-shaking-life here and sometimes I wonder if I can stand to keep feeling. To keep feeling the disappointments, the heat, the frustrations, even the joys… Progress with the farmers is slow. For reasons I feel I can’t share here. Not because I’m extremely private, but because it would not be wise. People in Africa often say, “Well, that’s Africa”  when they hear discouraging things about the place they live. In my head the new phrase is, “Well, that’s Burundi… which seems to be ON A WHOLE NEW LEVEL than the rest of Africa.”

Are we accomplishing anything? How long can we stay? How long will we TRY? Until we are bitter and tired? We already are some days… what if it sneaks up on us and suddenly… we are like that EVERY DAY?

How long can I “hold the ropes” before I feel the strain. Too much strain. I already feel it. It’s pressing in on my thin American skin. Then I remember that I am told to

GIVE

MYSELF

GRACE

…