Will you be able to attend my funeral?

Had breakfast with dad at Butch’s Chicken House in Jonesboro this morning. I needed to talk through some things regarding this Uganda opportunity. I also needed some pancakes.

When I first found out about Uganda, I did what anyone would do. I googled it. Up popped a handful of frightening things that I hoped my parents would never find. Unfortunately, they did. So this morning was difficult listening to dad talk about he and mom’s concerns and fears for my safety. All of that was of course followed up with how proud they are of me. Dad told me that he and mom worry about my brother and I in Atlanta, so imagine what it’s like when we travel. And I get it…I’m their little girl.


But it was what dad said last that I wasn’t really prepared for. He told me that not everyone is going to be as excited as I was. I hadn’t really thought about that because I was so caught up in what I would miss, and what it would look like for me to leave. My first opposition came from my grandmother.

I know Layna loves me and supports me in all that I do. But boy, did she have a lot of questions and concerns. I thought I had worked through accepting what life in another country looked like, but when her sweet voice asked me those questions, all of a sudden, it didn’t seem so clear. I think the one that really did me in was when she asked if I would come home if something happened to her and grandad. Truthfully, the answer to that question is no. But telling your grandmother that!?!? I couldn’t say it. I forced out some mumbling of “nothing’s going to happen” and “pray everyone stays healthy” but I know that God has our days numbered and his plan trumps mine.


One grandmother down, one more to go. May I only have to be asked once if I’ll be able to attend a future funeral.


Update: The other grandmother said she had been praying for this for me.

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