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sometimes, I forget. I forget how sick I felt walking away from my family, and how I cried the whole plane ride to Georgia. i forget that first night in Nicaragua, hanging out of the back of a military bus…
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sometimes, I forget. I forget how sick I felt walking away from my family, and how I cried the whole plane ride to Georgia. i forget that first night in Nicaragua, hanging out of the back of a military bus…
here it is, I'm sure – the blog everyone has been waiting for. my very last one. i know, its about time, but i couldn't do it. i sat down so many times to try, praying for God to give…