Kisumu

The other night I dreamed that I arrived at the residence of a good friend in Kisumu, Kenya and was unable to greet anyone. I sat on the couch armrest and looked around, recognizing all of her family members but either feeling ignored and rejected by them or else feeling too tired to respond to them. I also saw some friends from America laughing, talking and setting the dining room table through the door in the other room, but they did not see me and there were no greetings.

I had just written a message to this very friend the day before asking if she might send me videos that I could transcribe. I dreamed that she messaged back that even though she had wanted to a couple of years ago, she didn't want to now because the government wouldn't like it. I was hugely discouraged and almost embarrassed for even asking.

I woke up and was happy these dreams were not rooted in reality but rather my mind's worst-case scenario producer.

I want to go to Kisumu but I'm afraid of two things: God may not intend for me to go back, and I may have minimized in my mind the misery of the heat and bug bites I experienced the last time I went there. 

On another note, I have discovered that two non-parental adults talk about my food choices behind my back. They don't just roll their eyes in front of me when I beg for cake; they repeat their concerns enough that their children have caught on.

I don't get cake at home.

Also, the fridges at the household of these adults are yucky, confusing, and unappetizing. Conclusion: ask for cake. Eat health(ier) things at home.

These people don't see the almonds, yogurt, salad, and berries I eat at lunch, or the Atkins-adherent meals I eat for dinner when I'm home. Or the Kashi cereal I sometimes eat instead of Nutella and crackers.

I resent this and feel misunderstood.

Okay, but I am eating a cookie right now. So there's room for improvement. It's a two-way street.

Speaking of streets, can I ask for prayer that I will have love and understanding for other drivers on the road? Lately I've had more passengers and they confirm that I am an angrier driver than others. Being angry accomplishes nothing and only hurts me.

Also, I'll tell you a secret: since my sister is halfway across the country and nowhere near enough to critique my driving, I've been speeding up lately.

This is bad.

Pray?