I Wish I Could FaceTime God

By Janel Breitenstein | August 25, 2014 | 3 Comments

Over here in twenty-first-century Africa, as long as my power is on and my internet is not having a grumpy day, I am still able to “phone home.” Mornings are out because of that pesky time zone issue. But when my day is done and I sit on my locally made furniture in my pajamas, […]

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A Lesson from Ahmad

By Janel Breitenstein | August 11, 2014 | 0 Comments

This afternoon, the cottony gray clouds that had been collecting in billowy heaps finally poured streams of rain on Kampala. And because most of the students at our local refugee center slog through muddy streets and alleys to their English, career, and Bible classes, only five from my class showed up. So class was cancelled […]

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God in the Middle of a Chain-Link Fence

By Janel Breitenstein | July 15, 2014 | 1 Comment
God in the middle of a chain-link fence

Clouds were scudding across the sky, fingers of light splayed between them in a cool, breezy dawn. And there I was, crouching under a swag of chain, then edging my camera lens through a chain-link fence. Remember my prayer walks in the morning? This time my Canon was tagging along for some quality time, fitted […]

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“What Do You Love About Living in Your Country?”

By Janel Breitenstein | July 3, 2014 | 0 Comments
What do you love about living in your country?

It was this past Tuesday that my friend Dana, volunteering at a local refugee center, found herself surrounded by a handful of adults with origins all over East Africa. She’d volunteered to tutor in English, and thirteen appeared that night, their skin in varying hues of cinnamon, cocoa, and dark chocolate, and their English capabilities […]

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Prayer Walk

By Janel Breitenstein | June 17, 2014 | 2 Comments
Prayer Walk

It’s dawn, and Africa is rising, stretching, and crowing around me. Smoke from breakfast fires winds in gray ribbons I can see from my back porch, just before the silver sliver of Lake Victoria. But I’m going out the front this morning. I turn my keys in the gate’s lock, clanking it shut behind me. […]

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