So I have been home just over 24 hours. And it all seems like a dream. This happens every time I return from a trip. I should be use to it but I'm not. You would think that after having the month that I did it wouldn't seem like a dream.

I think this feeling comes because like in Uganda (even for us when we lived there) is so completely different than life here in America. Almost like a story or a dream. Except its all real. My girls are real. My co-leaders real. The experiences we had were real. The games we played, the songs we sang, the chickens we killed, all real. But so is hot running water, a toilet you can sit on, a bed, a car I can drive whenever I want. Two worlds that are totally different.

The question comes when you ask how do you live in one when you know the other still exists. How do I go on living here in America when there are children without homes, families with no hope, hospitals filled with sick people who could be cured here in America but will probably die there in Uganda. How can I again enjoy my meals when I know people who don't know when or if there next meal is going to make an appearance. Each time I eat something other than rice and macaron (that is what they called plain spaghetti) I thank the Lord for options.

I am so lucky. Lucky for many things.  I'm lucky for having two parents who love me. For having friends who are there for me when I need them. I'm lucky to have had a blessed life. I am lucky to have gone on this trip with 15 other beautiful women of God and 1 wise man of God.