A Shout Out

This is a shout out. 

A shout out to my first haircut in India.

A shout out to the "little clippers that could" for cutting my hair. When I originally thought it wouldn't be strong enough to cut thick African American hair, I should have went with that original thought.

A shout out to using my bed sheet as the draw sheet around my neck. It wasn't as effective as a barber's, but hey, I'm in India. 

A shout out to trying to use a guard to cut a little bit at a time. It wasn't really working because my hair is as thick as the jungle here. And so thought, ok maybe I'll just do no guard and take it all off. And so I went straight razor and shaved off a little portion in the front. Then I felt the clippers catch my Aunt Jemimah thick curls and I heard the struggle the clippers were having... I thought, oh snap, these clippers aren't Goin to be able to finish the job I have just started.

A shout out to my sympathetic nervous system for putting me in fight or flight mode as I thought I would look so trashy with the barely started haircut. 

And then a shout out to Sengnap sir for coming to the rescue. He's a Garo teacher here. Pretty cool dude. He offered to take over. And so he took the clippers and went to work. I could tell this was his hardest cut yet. After trying so hard with "the little clippers that could" and making such little progress, he decided to use his barber scissors. I was very skeptical at first, thinking there is no way this will work, but...

A shout out to Sengnap sir for being the man and cutting my hair with scissors. He cut it low enough so that "the little clippers that could" could finish the job. It took over an hour, but I'll take it. 

A shout out to being bald. It wasn't a bad look. I decided to keep the beard cause the bros from home told me I had to keep the hair growing for the whole year.

A shout out to being a bald bearded man. Everyone thinks I'm a grieving Hindu because supposedly, that's what grieving Hindus do: they shave their heads. This would be interesting I thought. 

A shout out to new things. To new experiences. To living a little recklessly with no regrets. 

A shout out to Jesus for giving me this incredible opportunity to serve.

A shout out to Alabanza.

Not Easily Forgotten

Some things in life are not easily forgotten. Like the time my mom, brother, and I got in a car accident when I was 7 but no lives were taken. Angels were there. Or the time a ball hit me in the mouth and I lost three teeth. Believe it or not, angels were there. 

Then there was the time I followed Ms Leishimi on the bike and was supposed to meet her at Umbi's house. I coasted down the hill like I always do, prayed at the bottom, and was on my way. Then suddenly the bike stopped working out of no where  as if it ran out of gas. And there was no one around. So I got off my bike and began to kick start. And I did it again and again and again. And no success. I tried revving the engine while kick starting like I saw the guys doing. No luck. Again and again I tried. Nothing. I prayed for the bike. Nothing. And then... Angels came. All the class 9 and 10 girls just so happened to be picking flowers with Ms Chandona a little ways off. And I heard the joyous shout of "Sir Kam!!" That they always say as if they haven't seen me in weeks. It's always nice. "What happened to your bike?!?" They yelled. "It won't start!" I yelled back.

And so they quickly came to my assistance. And that's how we spent the next 15 min trying to start the bike. We did more laughing than anything else. The girls shielded my bald head from the sun, gave me tips,  tried to start the bike themselves, and eventually told me to just turn around and come back home. Then a Garo man came and also tried to start the bike. But to no avail. Then we pushed it up a small hill as I rode down and tried to kick start. To no avail. Then the girls finally convinced me to just take the bike back; they would help me push it up the biggest hill ever in meghalaya that we decided to settle and build a school upon. My Lanta.

So we began the journey. I felt extra bad for Ms. Leishimi because I had no way of contacting her and I knew she was probably waiting for me at Umbi's house wondering "where is sir?" Such a pickle. 

Pushing the bike was easy at first. I told the girls some stories and we all laughed. When we got to the hill, we took turns taking sides of the bike and we pushed that bike up the hill slowly but surely. It was soooooo funny. The girls tried to convince me to let them push by themselves since I was so tired. But I couldn't do that to them. As we pushed and pushed and made progress, I screamed, "you're all 21st century, independent women! And don't need NO man!" (Side note: I told them soon after that they should actually get married some day) They wanted to call the guys for help but no one was listening. We could do this. And we pretty much did. We made it about 3/4 of the way or more. Then Suban and Paul came to our aid. And of course, after some time, Suban was able to start it and rode it up the hill. It was so fun. We walked the rest of the way. Joked. Laughed. Like we always do. 

I really enjoyed my time with the girls. We laughed so much, we prayed together, we encouraged each other, and we made memories. That are hard to forget. The kids are hard to forget. I won't forget them. I mean how could forget the time when angels came to your aid? 

Hallelu

April Fools

Timrei fell sick a couple of days ago. He and the other 10th graders went to town for the day, and he came back with some serious stomach pain and bathroom issues. I treated him with some antibiotics and stomach medicine and prayed with him to get better. I don't have favorites but if I did, Timrei would be up there. Therefore, I didn't like seeing one of my little brothers sick.

 The second day of his sickness was a little better than the rest. Even so, I decided to give him a different medicine that would be more appropriate for his problem. I sent him to bed. No problems. 

I woke up the next morning at the usual time of 530. While reading and getting ready, Ms. Leishimi ran by my door. "Kameron sir, what happened?!"

 

 I was very confused. "Ummm idk, you're the one bringing something up."

"Timrei is sick?!" She said.

"...yes. I already told you yesterday, and I am currently treating him."

"Well he has gotten worse, you need to go see him."

Oh no, I thought. The whole conversation was strange in itself as she went to go draw water from the pipe. She didn't seem in a big hurry to see this kid, especially if he had gotten worse. Anyway, I leisurely put on clothes and get ready because.. It was 530 am. As I was about to leave, Ms. Awon came by and said in worry, "Timrei is really sick! Go fast! Blessingson is also sick. Hurry!" And then she ran away. 

Now my nerves were really on edge. Two of the boys were sick! Oh no, I must have given a wrong medicine and Timrei must be throwing up everywhere and in serious pain. He's probably on the ground covered in his own vomit. Close to death. And Blessingson is probably catching the same disease! What if he too makes a turn for the worse?! Oh no, I've made a medical error that has cost someone their life!! My brother's life!!! All these thoughts were swimming in my head as I grabbed my stethoscope and headed out the door. I went back to my room after running halfway across the campus to get the rest of my emergency equipment. I'm sure I looked silly and worried. 

I expected the absolute worst when I walked into the Boy's hostel. Mess everywhere and two of the boys in complete and utter distress. And yet, I found the hostel completely silent. Like they were all asleep. They were all asleep. 

Strange.  

And so I went to the boys' beds. Timrei and Blessingson were peacefully sleeping. Nothing seemed to be wrong. I figured if something was wrong, there would at least be a look of distress on their faces wen in sleep. 

I woke Timrei. "Hey are you ok?" He was fine. A littler better than the previous day. He actually slept that night unlike the previous one. And so I moved on to Blessingson. "Hey, what's going on?" 

"Nothing sir..." He said is half sleep confusion. 

"So you're not sick?"

"No sir"

"Is there anything wrong?"

 "I don't think so."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure sir"

He continued to convince me that everything was just fine. No problems, zilch, nada. 

And so I left the boys hostel in as much confusion as Blessingson. Where did the girls get their information from? It didn't make sense. The stories weren't matching and I was seriously worried. What if something was happening that I didn't know about. And so I went to find Ms. Leishimi to clear things up. I was still mad she took her sweet time drawing water and didn't come see the patient with me. 

I walked towards my house and then around the corner where the girls use the water and everyone was.......Laughing! 

"April Fools!!" They screamed..........

-_________________- really I thought? That was a joke?! I complimented then on their "good joke" and walked away.

I was soooooooo upset. It was April Fools days but I didn't think they even knew what it was so I just forgot about it. Guess not. In America, I'm not used to people crying wolf on injuries just for the sake of April fools day. It stresses everyone out. But for them, it's permissible. I later explained to them how it's done in America. 

After all this, I returned back to my Hostel and just relived the whole situation. I was still a little mad. Funny, not really. 

The rest of the day was filled with jokes. I gave them a quiz in math. They thought it was a joke. It wasn't. HA!!!! At the end of the day, Ms Ella played a little trick on all of us. She brought us a dessert treat to have after our music practice. We all took a piece and said cheers to the good practice. 

And then the treat tasted like mint. She has spread Colgate on top of the snack. It was clever. It was good. I still hate mint. But it was still a good laugh. We all laughed.

We laugh a lot here. It's kinda like a way of life. A good one I think. We should laugh more. There is something about the laughing with everyone here that makes me fall in love once more every day. There is some kinda study that talks about some good result of laughter. I forgot. Not that it really matters. I just know that I love laughing. I love it here. And I don't want to go.

May the days draw out, and let's laugh through and through. 

Still Bad at Sports

I have never really been all that good at sports. In school, I wasn't necessarily the last kid picked in gym. I was actually one of the first for some reason. Probably because kids all had the notion that because Kameron was fast and black, he must be good at sports. Yea... I thought that too. I was always reminded of my lack of athletic ability on a pretty consistent basis. All was fun and games when playing with my brothers because we just wanted to have fun. However when playing with others, the ball of reality was ever a fast pitch to the face. Since losing my teeth to a fast pitch to the face, my fear of balls has also increased. They say face your fears. So I guess I'll go stand in a court and let everyone throw balls at me.... 

This athletic deficit has only followed me since being in India. I normally like to play volleyball with the guys. I was never all that good at it. When things started Goin on the up up skill wise, it would crash just as fast as it went up. I normally just play for good fun because I'm not good, but as we all know, competition is a serious thing for males. 

The guys are all fairly good at volleyball even with their vertical challenges (the net is a little short however). I'm kinda just there, trying to be good. As I have played with the guys and made many many mistakes, I have realized there are 4 different ppl in sports: 

The first is the the person who has no idea what they are doing. They simply play because they were either forced or don't want to be left out. They are often scolded for their bad play and eventually make some excuse to leave the game early. 

Then there is the person who is actually pretty good at the game and encourages everyone around to keep playing and do their best. This person is the most liked because you want to follow their example in sport and attitude. 

Then there is the person who is kinda in the middle. This person plays the sport for fun. He is good one day, bad the next. He attempts to succeed in good play and actually be a support for the team. Sometimes he is the downfall of the team. This person isn't normally scolded often because at least they don't make complete mistakes at every turn. Even so, they are self conscious and insecure about their playing ability and eventually also make an excuse to leave the game early. Especially when one of the other guys, in a cheery smile, offers to take your spot and puts you in a different position. This is when the last straw is normally pulled and it's definitely time to go.  This person described would be me...

And finally there is the hot shot all star. He plays all he positions. He also coaches everyone on how to properly play and scolds for every bad move. When he puts the "I" in team and makes a mistake, instead of accepting that he can't do it all or made a mistake, he makes an excuse which saves face but normally puts blame on another player. This person is never wrong and the best. In everything. They think. This person is only liked by some. He's a good player but you'd rather not be around him when on the court for fear of getting yelled at or other things. This person is brother Davin.

After realizing this, I still decided I would play volleyball here with the guys. Some days everyone is playing lazily and that's really fun. We laugh a lot and all make mistakes. Other days like today, the game is real and I'm kinda holding the team back. And so I pray the game ends quick or I can find an excuse to leave early. 

Even with all these sad realities surrounding my sub par athletic abilities, I am reminded that we can't be good at everything. We can't be the athletic jock, book worm, and artist from the seed of Michelangelo. The that's not how God made us. As pieces of the body of Christ, we can't all be the eye because then we couldn't hear. If we were all the feet then how could we see where we were going. And so on. So at times like today where I play like I have no arms and legs, I am reminded that I have some other talents. I can hold an "ok" tune. I know how to cook and not starve. I know how to crochet which if you think about it, I can make my own clothes even if it looks like my blind dog dressed me. I'm pretty good at making people laugh and don't mind being silly for the sake of making others comfortable. Someone has to put themselves out there. I think I give pretty good hugs and I'm good at long distance communication. All these things make me, me. And I think that without being who I was created to be, I would be doing the Lord a disservice by trying to be the hand or the feet when I am the nose or the leg. Can I serve the Lord best in areas in which the talent simply isn't there? Or should I simply but most importantly use the talents I do have to glorify God to the fullest? Make a good meal to feed a hungry family or try to teach some musicians how to play their instruments when I can't even read music. We can't do it all. That's something important to know. And yet, we can and should do something. We should love. We should serve. We should give it our all. And we should do all this while glorifying God who is working in us.

I was reminded recently that with man, nothing is possible. But with God, all things are possible. So yea, I cant hit balls; but I can do something else and still lead someone to Christ. And that, I believe, makes the Lord smile.

Alabanza. 

To Dance With Jesus

Tonight we had one of those hour long bible studies where half the time, uncle bill was recapping on the past bible study: about the sunday law, the beasts of revelation, the papacy and the like. Stuff heard from sabbath school and pictures colored from those coloring pages (you know you're adventist when your coloring sheets are of the statue in Daniel 2). When you talk about the end of time it can get you a little scared but also very excited for the coming of our Lord. And you just pray that everyone is ready. 

On the flip side, today was such a nice day with the kids. It's times like today that I will remember: playing lazy volleyball with the guys where we spend half the time laughing, Davin is still the volleyball police, playing all the positions, and we're all just having a great time. Moreover, days like today where I laugh with the girls at dinner about random funny stuff, will not be forgotten. It's always times like these that always remind me that I leave in December. The girls have already planned to save money so they can travel back with me to kolkata to see me off at the airport. It hurts to think of it. For the first time since I've been here, I felt like honestly crying. Not because I miss the American life or my school or even friends and family; the feelings come from the thought of some day having to say bye to this place. Not being able to teach the kids math and trying very hard to empower them that they can learn this concept if they can learn 5 languages. Not being able to sneak chilies into my food because they aren't allowed. Not being able to diagnose all the boys with some disease that they probably don't have. They're just messing around. Not being Able to hear Mingum scream the dogs's names when it's time to eat. Not being able to make those foreigner mistakes. 

All this made me want to hold on to Jesus. To talk to and walk with and dance with Jesus. What would it be like? Can we imagine it. He leads i assume. But what is the movement like? Are we moving our own feet with His, stepping on His toes, or are we being carried like a father carries his young daughter, doing all the movements until we let go? Idk. The only thing I knew and know now, at this moment, is that I want to dance with Jesus. I want to dance with him through the villages as I try and learn garo and Hindi. I want to dance my way through the rest of this year. And dance my way through the rest of life. Dance through the storms and the calm days. On the streets and through the by ways. Through every trial and every tribulation because we must see who will stand for Jesus when time gets rough.  Until it is well with my soul and I am standing on that beautiful shore where the sun doesn't need to shine because Jesus is enough. That's some day. So bright I'm sure. So glorious. I can't comprehend. After all. After all, he is holy. 

It Takes a Village

I never thought that I would be leading an ambulance to a villagers house at 12 am in the morning with my head lamp...

The day was relatively pretty good. Busy but good. I had just finished teaching the girls a little bit about volleyball and went to take dinner when Major sir called me to run up the hill. Whenever the boss calls, I always think I'm in trouble just because it's the boss. However our director is probably the best person to work for. I got to his office and he told me to go meet Ms. Leishimi for a delivery. "Whoops!" I thought, I was supposed to tell her about that delivery when it was told me a couple hours ago. But she found out. Alabanza. 

I knew this would be a long night, and so I had the girls take dinner for me. I grabbed all my stuff and sister Rinki sat in back and we were off as the sun went down. Two things I have never done before here in India: ride the motorcycle at night and ride the motorcycle at night with someone on the back. I will admit, deep down, I was afraid. But I kept my cool. 

We arrived on the scene. I thought I was going to be able to go but then I remembered that I had to take sister Rinki back because Ms. Leishimi came with another midwife. And so this began part 2 of sitting for two hours in someone's yard while I didn't know the language. But this time it wasn't as bad.

I noticed lots of things this time. The men sat on one side of the fire waiting while the women and children sat on the other side of the fire. Family and neighbors and even ppl afar off were there waiting for this baby. Then I thought to myself, "it takes a village to raise a child." The baby wasn't even born yet and he already had so many loved ones backing him up. He had a mother and grandmother and aunts and uncles and friends and cousins. He would have many influences and would be raised by the villages. How exciting! I thought to myself how I would like that for my children. To be raised by a group of people who loved him/her and would teach him the ways of the Lord and so much more. 

I passed the time staring back at the children, showing them my light, pretending to speak a little garo. I talked with Ms. Leishimi and Ms. Lilu whenever they came out of the house. Slowly things progressed. I made the silly mistake of saying I was hungry in garo. Next thing I knew, this family that didn't have a lot of money or food made me a whole meal. The father called me into one of the houses-- it took me forever to figure out what he wanted. One of the sisters had made me rice and potato curry. It was so nice of them. Because it's rude to say no to food especially in this instance where I already felt bad for making them slave over for me, I ate all the food. I told the sister I knew a little garo and that I was learning very slowly. She caught on and taught me some things. She also kept giving me more food. Finally I stopped her and ate what I had. After late dinner, around 9, I went out to the fire again. Back to my seat to look like a lost space cadet. One of the men called me to come close to the fire. It was really nice. Then Ms. Leishimi called me in distress. 

When I walked into the house, the first thing I noticed was a high pitched grunting sound coming frome the baby. This is never a good sign. This combined with noticeable retractions in the stomach and deep visible pulling of neck muscles told me that the baby was struggling for air. After a quick assessment, I told Ms Leishimi that we need to give oxygen manually or this baby would tire quickly. She gave the ambu bag and I put to use with the little knowledge I could remember from nursing school. A breath from the ambu every couple of seconds, not pressing the bag fully. 3 secs, breath, 3 secs, breath. Looking at the color of the baby and other signs, things kinda seemed to be going no where. And so I went outside to call Auntie Lois. 

It's times like this that I wished I had a phone. Getting ahold of auntie Lois was painstaking as each call dropped and the phone balance was getting lower. I just need this to work this one time. The whole time I was praying to myself. I finally reached auntie and she told us to give actual oxygen to the baby. Major Sir brought the oxygen tank 

Good thing I paid enough attention in nursing school cause I was able to put together the oxygen tank and mask and make everything work. It's times like this where Ms. Leishimi doesn't know what to do that I start to freak out as she questions me about every unknown thing to her. I just pray and go back in my mind and think of some kind of sound advice from a teacher, a nurse, a doctor. 

After successfully applying oxygen with no sufficient help, we decided to take the baby to the hospital. And that's how i found myself riding the motorcycle through the night again, with a boy on the back who didn't speak English. Never in my 21 years of life would I have imagined myself driving a motorcycle on a super rocky road at 11 at night to get money to take a baby to the hospital. Never. But God is funny like that. We made it to the compound to get some money. Then we made it back. I didn't crash the bike. Alabanza. 

 

And then we waited for the ambulance. The midwives weren't quite oxygenating the baby correctly, so I took the child in my arms and made sure he could get as much help as he could get. I named him. Just because it was easier to call him that name instead of "baby". I won't say yet unless the mother allows me to actually name him. I rocked him and gave him oxygen and thought about how much he was fighting. Fighting for life. He needed the Lord. For every breath. Just like me. Just like us. 

Then I saw the ambulance near and went to lead him to the house with my head lamp. After the ambulance arrived, we tried with much struggle to get the weak mother into the ambulance. Baby, Ms. Leishimi and Rinki sister went as well. We closed the ambulance and they were off. Then I had Lilu gather the village together, that was to raise this child, so that we could pray. We then said our goodbyes and left. 

Found out just now as I write that the mother is fine but the baby is still in the ICU with respiratory distress. Must continue to pray for him. 

I'm thankful we made the right decision. And now one the boys is sick and calls. Nurse Kam on the go. Keep praying for that baby. I want the village to raise him

 

Mmm

Wasn't Ready

I wasn't ready to head up the clinic in Dolongre on Monday.

10 midwives, Ms. Leishimi and I set up a free clinic at the school across the street from the bazaar. We set up chairs and benches and divided up jobs. Originally, there was much chaos, and so quickly I just made all the final decisions because nothing was getting done. Some midwives did vital signs, some did blood sugars, and then Ms. Leishimi and I sat in as doctors, diagnosing people and prescribing medicines. I didn't think people would come. But anytime you have a free service, people come.

As so they came, one by one. They got their vitals and blood sugar checked. Then they sat on a bench in front of us and we asked them what else was going on. All the issues were ordinary and minor and yet I had no idea what I was doing prescribing medicines and solutions to their problems. I thought, "oh my Lanta, I'm going to kill all these people." No one would get better. Maybe worse. Or nothing would happen. I kept prescribing the same meds and told them to come back next week. I figured I would like to know if they actually got better.

I prayed a lot in that time as I gave medicines and advice. I wasn't ready. I prayed the Lord would multiply my efforts to do good in their community and that the people would actually be well. I didn't believe in the medicine and still don't. I believe in the Doctor. He's pretty great. And He's going to have to do a mighty work through my hands and my mouth because like I said, I wasn't ready.

Everyday I'm learning to pray some more and believe a little more in God. And not just to believe in His existence, but to believe in Him. Actually have faith. Actually move with the Idea that "I have brought this before the foot of the cross and now I put it in His hands." Because I wasn't ready. I'm not ready. But actually I am. I don't think God would have called me to do this work if I wasn't ready. He wouldn't have brought "trial one" and "faith test two" and "believe in me three" without the intentions to prepare me for "mission experience 4." I think they were all times to get used to walking with Him. To move from the front of my own line to the back of His, letting Him Guide.

I can tell you that I'm still not ready to do a whole lot of things. I stand of the other side of all my experiences with God and wonder how I got through them. And then I remember that I got through them because He was ready. He's always ready. And if, and only if, I hold His hand, I'll be ready for it all.

I hope you're ready.

Bless.

Kameron Carter

Pimps in the Ghetto

Its true. There are pimps in the ghetto wherever you go. Today we went to see a family in the nearby village due to a suspicion that they might have malaria. When we arrived, we did our ordinary check up procedure and treated the patients accordingly. I was surprised the family was able to immediately pay us such a large sum of money, 1150 rupees or 20 dollars. Normally that kind of money here takes some time to collect. Then they told us a story.

They said that they owned a lot of beetlenut tress. Beetlenut is like tobacco that they use for many activities here. Beetlenut sells well in these parts and they were able to get 1 lack of rupees which is 100,000 rupees. With money like that, a family could easily live off the profit or built a house or buy a waker or many other things. And so we asked them why we didn't see a new nice house or a waker that could be used to make more money or something else that could bring in more income. The uncle told us that the country side is filled with underground agents that keep close eyes on the people. When villagers suddenly have something nice that they normally have never been able to afford, such as a cement house or a motorcycle or waker, the underground takes note that they have probably gained access to a large sum of money. And therefore they come to the house and request sometimes 3 or 4 lack, when the family has only made 1 lack. If the money is not given, the underground shoot the members of the household, take what little money they have and then keep moving as is taking a walk through the park. They know that killing them will keep the fear high in the villages and they will remain on top. Most definitely individuals controlled by a dark force, I was still shocked that someone could be so cruel. That pimps like this exist. That it's getting worse. Ms. Leishimi told me that they could even see us driving by on the motorcycle and scooter or come to the compound and see that we have money and request an outrageous amount. I told her, I have no problem with packing up my stuff and going somewhere else if need be. And yet, I pray angels surround us everyday that we go out. I believe that they do because already miracles have been performed.

Like the time recently that i burned my leg on the muffler of the motorcycle the one time I decide to wear shorts. I fell in a patch of mud that was impossible to get around. When the bike tipped, my leg hugged the muffler nicely. Very nicely. And yet, all was well.

Or how that morning we went to see a sick baby. It was the same baby that I waited for in someone's yard for 2 hours towards the beginning of my time here. And I didn't know garo. And I drunk the milk and the water. And didn't get sick. It was that baby. We got to the bottom of the hill and were told that the baby died the previous night. Shocked. So shocked. He was only a little over a month old. According to this lady, the baby's genitals had retreated into the body and the baby had turned blue and black as if someone had beat him. The mother had waited for us the previous day but due to another 3 am labor and the clinic that same day, we were unable to make it. We are still unsure of what happened to the baby. Maybe the family tried to use garo medicine, which is very strong, to heal the baby. Or maybe their was a congenital defect that would have had to be fixed in a hospital setting. We told the mother to take the baby to the hospital days before things got worse. But she didn't. No money. You wonder what you do in that situation. Borrow money and pay back? Go in faith that the Lord will provide? Let your baby die? Questions.

And even with all this terrible loss, the family had peace in their hearts. We visited the afternoon after the baby died and they seemed alright. I could tell the mother had been crying but she seemed more put together than most mothers. They expressed that the time was sad, but that they would be ok. I'm not sure if God was mentioned but they did let us pray with them. They still laughed at my garo and smiled at my presence. If I can put a smile on the face of a grieving mother, I think that's good for a day's work.

And so even though there are pimps in the ghetto and babies are dying and legs are burning, babies are living and love is thriving, and God is still in control. Their is much joy to be had. And so I'll laugh a little more today and tomorrow. Even at gunpoint. It would be hard, but our mission is sure: to live, breathe, and preach the Gospel to all who will hear. Even to those pimps in the ghetto.

Sigh.

Here we go.