Oh, my Africa.  I have never felt a love so deep as I love you.  I dance along to a worship service, listening to the drums and the beautiful languages until the sound of the African drums becomes the beat of my heart.  And I look out the windows as we drive through the old refugee camps, and I see the people on the sides of the road, waving and smiling so big, all so happy...people who are old enough to remember the horrible war.  The same war that people in American used as an excuse not to believe in God is seemingly forgotten here as people treck to church on Sunday to sing about how wonderful their Creator is.  How much I am learning from my Africa.