Breaking the Silence for MTF #3 Report!

Yesterday was my third MTF, which you probably know about from reading my email newsletter.

I arrived at the NWCC Conversation Club with the other volunteers. Turns out that rather than being with the adults for the club, I chose to join the singular childcare worker (since another lady hadn't been able to make it) to help watch the preschoolers while the moms gathered to talk about food, and, hopefully, the Bread of Life.

We had six kids, ranging in age from 2-4. Most appeared to be from M families. One girl had the most beautiful smile, and I found myself praying for them and her in particular as I interacted with them. It's always so interesting to quickly pick up on who's the bossy one and who are the quiet ones :)

After the 1.5 hour time slot, I had lunch with the lady who leads the Conversation Club, just to get to know her and allow her to get to know me. I found it to be an encouraging time, and I still need to journal my thoughts about that.

In partnership with FL, another group, I planned to pick up some food for a S family. I was supposed to deliver it today, but that change of plans had slipped my mind and I took it yesterday. The lady was confused and in a hurry, which was my fault not hers! She apparently spoke no English - our only interaction was through Google Translate. I felt so very bad when I called my FL contact to update her, only to be reminded I was supposed to drop off the food on Saturday.

The enemy tried hard to lord that one over me. I was inclined to feel guilty and frustrated at myself as well ... but instead I chose to write a gratitude list as soon as I got home, and journal about that piece of my day and forgive myself. And then I talked with my parents on the phone for a bit :)

This was the most active of my MTF Fridays so far, and I look forward to diving deeper into future ones as well!

HOW Did You End up in Uganda??

 HI! I know this is a weird way to break another year and a half of silence ... but I need this as the back story for a post I'm working on for a different blog. So here you go!

When I graduated from JBU in May 2013, four things were true:

1. I had a full summer scheduled - two weeks home and then a month in Northern Ireland with a missions team from JBU. 

2. Next was an eight-week internship with Samaritan's Purse in North Carolina, doing just what I thought I wanted to do (communications for a non-profit). I wanted to do so well at the internship that I would get offered a job at the end of it, and I would be SET! Successful college graduate with a job/career in my field!!!!

3. Some missionaries from a little-known organization, called New Hope Uganda, had come and spoken at the church I attended during college, about God's heart for the fatherless, about the heart of the orphan (and that we're all spiritual orphans without Christ), and about what the organization they worked with was trying to do about it. 

That was in April, and I found my heart deeply stirred by what they shared. BUT, #1 & #2 above.

4. The pastor--and his wife and family--from that same church I attended were leaving the church to go be missionaries in western Uganda.

But then real life hit:

1. I loved doing hands-on ministry work in N.Ireland. No, it wasn't always easy, but we had an amazing team from JBU that quickly became like a little family unit. And some of the kids we worked with really grabbed at my heart strings! A part of me wanted to go back and intern with the YFC couple who we had worked with. Door #1.

2. Transitioning into a totally new experience with totally new people at SP was challenging. Because of my missions trip, I arrived four weeks later than the other interns, and stayed four weeks later. SP was my first exposure to working in a "corporate" environment, and the sterility of it was galling. Yes, there were definitely amazing things! Like the daily devotions, the team I worked with, the stories I got to tell--especially in Joplin and NYC. I loved the latter because it got me outside the four walls of my cubicle, not to the point of getting my hands dirty, but at least to being able to tell the stories of those who were! I could go on, but I think you get the point ... There were times I was thoroughly confused about what I wanted, but I did apply for the job I had been filling for eight weeks towards the end of my time there. Door #2.

Door #3 in my head was to go back to my beloved Siloam Springs, AR and continue work I had started my senior year as a personal assistant for a dear gal who has cerebral palsy. She didn't have a roommate for the fall, and needed extra help.

3. & 4. In July, while I was in the midst of the entry throes at SP, I received an email newsletter from the pastor's family. They weren't going to western Uganda anymore - they were joining New Hope Uganda. And they were asking for someone to come with them and homeschool their kids while they were in NHU's training program. HUH, I thought - and there was just that nudge in my spirit. But, Doors #1, 2, and 3 above!!!

Fast forward to the middle/end of September, 2013. All of my three doors had closed. #1 - The YFC board declined an internship position in Killyleagh. #2 - I received the dreaded "I'm Sorry" phone call. I never had the courage to ask why they didn't hire me. #3 - My friend was content to be by herself in her room and knew God would bring the helpers she needed.

So there I sat, not knowing WHAT I was going to do next! I was working on applying to places like Dave Ramsey and The Jesus Film, and creating a spreadsheet (of course!) with scores of agencies and organizations. And I was waiting for Oct. 1st. Why Oct. 1st? Because that's when I expected the next newsletter from the pastor's family, and I just had a feeling ... but the last letter had said they were pursuing two potential candidates.

And then finally the letter came. They had no one lined up, and they were leaving for the field soon.

I sat on it for a week.

And then I sent a tentative email.

'Hello, remember me? I'm not qualified (no teacher training), but I'm available.'

And the reply came back - 'YES, we are interested! When can we have a phone call??'

About 10 weeks later, I was on an airplane headed to Uganda, with a family--who I knew only as passing acquaintances from four years at a church--waiting to pick me up when I got there.

Crazy? Looking back, YES, I would say so!!!

Used by God? Definitely.

Always easy? NOPE!!

Worth it? YES.

And that's the tale of how I got to Uganda :)

Breaking the Silence

A week and a half ago, I sat in my psychiatrist’s office. Thankful that I had made it two more months since my last appointment with no sudden downturns, no sleepless nights.

But I told him I was feeling apathetic in the mornings, like it was hard to get up in time to read my Bible—it was easier to snooze my alarm until I had to get up for work. I said I would try to take my medicine earlier the night before, he nodded his head and said what I am on are the least sedative drugs in their families. He commented on the smile and sparkle in my eye I had, even though it was still morning.

Then I asked the question I had been planning to ask for weeks. “What’s the plan for long-term?” ‘Well we may tweak your medication down the line if something new comes out,’ he said, ‘but you’ll always need to be on something.’ He then confirmed the potential diagnosis of bipolar that I had been given back in October.

I wasn’t shocked by it. Naturally I hoped he might say ‘I think you just had a season of depression, we can try to wean you off things and see how it goes.’ But the more I view certain seasons of my life through the lenses of a bipolar diagnosis, the more some things make sense.

I’m definitely still learning how to live with my medicated self. There are still moments I feel like the “real me” is a bit lost in a haze. There are things about the pre-2018 me that I still miss. Primarily, it feels like my passion for God had a big bucket of water dumped on it….I haven’t really prayer journaled or had an amazing quiet time for weeks/months. And I miss it. I miss feeling Him the way I used to sometimes.

The doubt tries to creep in. Those moments when I felt the Spirit whispering truth into my heart, was that just hypomania? Was I deceiving myself? Will I ever be able to experience that again while stabilized on medication?

A friend shares a blog by an author with bipolar. It is her story which drives me to write today again, because in her story I see my own.

“I clung to my enlarged capacity and imagined how different my life would be if it remained. This hypomanic thrust of energy makes me believe I am the woman I was created to be. I see God. I am unafraid. This is the hardest part of bipolar. Knowing it can’t and won’t last. That the meds will bring me back to some kind of salvific ordinary and if I refuse them, I know the descent into madness too.”

Alia Joy, http://aliajoy.com/the-fluency-of-hope/

After a full year of not fully knowing or trusting myself, after more roller coaster ups and downs than I can count, I am thankful for the new combination of medications I’m on that have helped me to function “normally” these past four months. And yet it’s a new normal, not quite like the old normal. I’m still trying to find my way…still trying to find what’s next after 2018 stripped me away from the place where I had made my adult home.

My normal now seems so very ordinary—so very rhythmic. Get up & go to work—change diapers and feed cereal and enjoy nap time and love Baby V; workout & go home to dinner or maybe to an evening activity. I live for the weekends and payday as they both give a break to my routine. I’m working on meeting more people. I’m working on community. But it’s not always easy, not for an introvert like me.

“These days I go back and pull from my writing, my memories, and try to remember the world as I once experienced it. It’s more muted now. Calmer. There is less meaning in everything. The regularity of life has replaced the roller coaster. It feels more like a slow ferry ride, chugging steadily through thick and murky waters. There is a mundane element that I am learning to embrace, the ordinariness of chopping vegetables for stew. Walking the dog. Adding paper towels to the grocery list. The feel of my pillow beneath my head with no rambling thoughts to pull me from sleep and taunt me.
But there are sacrifices to surviving. I know this now. This disease costs you something whether you stay sick or you get well. Because who am I if I am not bipolar? What parts of my disease were a broken brain and what parts are me, the me I’ve always known?”

Alia Joy, http://mudroomblog.com/when-i-am-bipolar/

Baby V’s cry breaks the silence of the house, and it’s time to go back to nanny-mode. With no answers found, no breaking of the clouds, no voice from heaven. But in voicing these things, even here, I’m letting my mind voice itself to God. I know and believe that He hears & sees & knows & answers—in His time & will, and for His glory.

A Dawning Realization

Please note: This post is just about me. I firmly believe that God has everyone on their own journey. This is a step in my own personal path.

The past couple of weeks, I’ve quit watching TV. It didn’t come as an intentional decision, just a necessary consequence of changing priorities.

Amusement in the form of movies & especially TV shows has been an off-and-on (mostly on) addiction for me for almost a decade.

During college it was NCIS. In Uganda and Dallas, it became Sherlock and then Survivor—season after season of it.

There have been a couple times I have literally watched episode after episode, all through the darkness of the night until nearly dawn.

Again and again, guilt would assail me for putting so much time into amusement. But again and again, I would get sucked back into it.

In January, when I was sick in bed with the flu for three days straight, basically all I did was watch movies on my computer.

AMUSEMENT. I still remember years and years ago, my dad looking up the etymology of that word. Check this out: it literally means “to divert the attention, beguile, delude;” in other words, to avoid musing/thinking. 

I’m working through a book called Genesis Process with a small accountability group here at a church in Portland. Originally written (by Michael Dye) to help recovering addicts, it has since been broadened to cover how to deal (spiritually and emotionally) with a wider variety of coping skills. And my relationship with amusement has definitely been an addiction/method of coping by avoidance.

“Remember, the limbic memory records things that have to do with fear/pain and pleasure/reward. So when you do something that makes you feel better, taking away pain and fear, you will naturally want to do it again.” Genesis Process #7, p. 97

College was a super stretching/growing time for me. I was away from my nuclear family for the first time in my life—and for me that was a huge step. There was the stress of college plus the processing of relationships, old and new.

I also became exposed to a lot more media consumption than I had been previously. I made the discovery of how to watch full movies online for free. {Yep, I’ve done that—a lot.} At some point in the first couple years of college, it became a frequent habit to watch some movie/show on my computer before going to bed. And the habit has mostly stuck through the years since…even in the bush of Uganda.

For me, this habit was a way to forget about the stress/problems facing me in real life. Especially with NCIS, I’ve realized that I hungered for those “real-world” problems that could somehow always be solved in 45 minutes, or maybe an hour and a half. I have also been fascinated by the character development in all three of my pitfall shows.

But in the past few weeks, I’ve noticed myself pulling back from the habit when I’m alone. For a few reasons:

• As I’ve been wrestling with early morning insomnia, an earlier bed time is wiser/necessary. I’m talking 8/8:30 pm some nights! :O
• Plus, screen time right before bed is an insomnia no-no anyway!
• I’m realizing the critical importance for me of processing heart-level issues with God via writing or journaling. This takes time!!
• God is working on bringing healing and revealing how my own choices have led me to where I am. And, by His grace & strength, I want to change and be more intentional/proactive.
• I have lots of responsibilities from Servant Teams that I can’t seem to get on top of….partly because of the time spent doing personal writing. There’s just not enough hours in the day to spend a couple on amusement!
• I’ve found myself wanting to stay in touch with my close friends in other places. Those phone conversations have been sweet times of encouragement and fellowship to me, and hopefully to my parents/’sisters’/mentors as well!!

I don’t have a neat bow to tie this post off with. I’m still on the journey. Like I said, my recent solo-time amusement fast hasn’t been something I intentionally planned on…it has just happened. And I know myself—I’m guessing that there will be future times when I’m lured back into it. But for now, I’m enjoying being more proactive and intentional with my alone time.

Please pray for me to learn a balance in this area of my life as well—not to be a pendulum wildly swinging from one extreme to the other. Thanks so much!

A UGM Story

Being a detail person, I wish I could share this story more in-depth with you. But the need to respect the confidentiality of our UGM guests necessitates me keeping this pretty general.

It started a week ago Thursday.

No, actually it started earlier than that. I don’t remember when the first time was that I came out from behind the table…but I definitely felt the difference when I did.

What do I mean, “out from behind the table”?

Well, when I first showed up to work at UGM nine weeks ago, the crew chief encouraged me to start off serving food to the guests, until I got to feeling comfortable in the environment. When serving food, a table separated me from the line of hungry people. Interactions were brief, focused mainly on what food item they wanted. Even when I helped the resource guru, the table we sat behind still created a type of barrier.

My typical view when serving...though this was on a very lightly attended morning!

Eventually, I felt ready to move out and try “working the floor” – clearing trash, wiping down tables, scooting in chairs, sweeping crumbs, etc. Being out from behind the table seems to even the playing field in a way. It opens one up to the possibility of longer conversations. Honestly, I’m not great at capitalizing on that opportunity, but I have had people stand and talk with me for a couple minutes at a time—one lady asked me to pray for her situation. But that’s her story…

The vast majority of our guests are conscientious about throwing away their own trash and letting us know if they accidentally spilled something. So oftentimes those of us working the floor are not constantly busy.

Well, a week ago Thursday I was working floor again – and I noticed some trash (cup/napkin/etc.) at an empty spot. So I cleared it away. A few minutes later, I noticed a man sitting there. And he was glaring at me, hardcore. The only thing I could conclude was that he wasn’t happy with me for throwing his empty things away while he was back in line for more food.

The glaring continued, so that I finally moved from my normal standing spot to the other side of the room to avoid his gaze. Eventually, he left the building. When I was going around with the broom and dustpan later, I realized that there was a bag of plastic bottles/aluminum cans at the chair where he had been sitting. Thinking he might possibly come back for them, I set them near the front door.

And I was right—he came back. I happened to be near the door when I saw him coming in, so I plucked up some courage and went up to him with the bag. “I think you left these,” I said…and he thanked me. A simple enough interaction, but I feel that I was able to show him a taste of Christ’s love even in that brief interchange…especially in light of the angry way he had been staring at me earlier.

Fast forward to Tuesday morning. I was sitting at the resource table near the front door and saw this same man come in. And when he saw me, he actually waved at me. Later I saw him talking to one of our crew members—and then the next thing I knew, this guest was sitting down in the chair across from mine, asking what type of resources I had to offer.

At the resource table!

To say that I initially felt intimidated because of the ‘evil eye’ he had given me the time before might be an understatement. But neither of us referred to that previous interaction—and while it was definitely prominent in my mind, part of me wonders if he remembered it at all. If he hadn’t waved at me when he came in, I would be more inclined to say that he didn’t. But the wave seemed to indicate recognition….so who knows.

Anyway, what followed was an interesting conversation full of several tangents. Like I said, I would love to tell you all the details…but that would be broaching his right to confidentiality. Suffice it to say, he seems to be a widely-read, well-educated person. Although I don’t know the veracity of some of the things he was telling me about, he made me think of someone who would love to be a history lecturer.

Basically, he told me that he wants to get into a recovery program for the sake of his family. That’s the generic version of what he said.

He must have sat and talked with me for…I don’t know, 15-30 minutes. Which was mostly him talking and me listening. It had been a slow morning at the resource table, so it’s not like there were others waiting. The crew guys were familiar with this guest, and at least three of them stopped at the table to check in and make sure I was comfortable with how the conversation was going—they’re so fantastic!

Well, it came time for the dayroom to close for the morning…and as we concluded filling out the informational form so my supervisor could follow up with him, I told the guest that I would be praying for him. And I told him, “I believe Jesus loves you.” According to what he was telling me, he knew he was making some poor life choices—and he wanted to change. But from one of his earlier comments, I could tell he wasn’t a believer.

Other than a bit at kids’ VBS/CEF events, I think that’s the closest I’ve ever come to sharing the gospel with anyone, especially an adult. Evangelism is definitely not one of my strong points….

He commented that I must be a liberal Christian because I wasn’t a Bible-thumping, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” type of Christian. He would have started off on another whole tangent about theology…something about how there was the Word before there was God. Which tried to push my “belief” button, but it really was closing time and I was not in the mood to get in an argument with someone I knew I didn’t agree with. So we parted ways.

But he keeps on coming back to my mind…and I have been praying for him. And I would ask that you pray for him too. I saw him in the dayroom again yesterday morning. But he didn’t come sit at the resource table with me again, so I didn’t have any personal interaction with him.

God knows this guest’s heart. God knows where he is at on the journey that He has planned for him. I may never know the rest of his story. But I hope that even just by sitting with him and being a “good listener,” as he called me, maybe—just maybe—my comment about Jesus’ love for him won’t have fallen on deaf ears.

Thanks for your prayers for him, and also for me as I continue interacting with our wide variety of guests for the next five weeks until my UGM internship finishes. The interactions I have had there, coupled with the topics we’ve been covering in our Servant Teams trainings, have definitely given me more of a heart for the marginalized and downtrodden here in my own country.

Internship First Impressions

As part of the Portland, OR portion of the Servant Teams program (see previous entry), I and two of my teammates are interning at a Union Gospel Mission here.

UGM exists to feed the hungry, restore the addict, and love their neighbor. They primarily minister to the homeless population in downtown Portland through their dayroom. UGM also runs two LifeChange programs, one for men and one for women, for those who want to recover from addiction.

The men in LifeChange work for the mission during the days, as well as taking part in counseling and other elements of the program.

My role at UGM is to help in the dayroom, offering food and other services to the local homeless guests. I started this week and will be working there every Tuesday and Thursday until December. My two teammates are working with Search + Rescue, which goes out to those living in homeless camps in other areas.

I wanted to share some of my observations from my first couple days of working there. My intention is not to pass judgment or criticize anything…these are merely what I have seen and experienced to give you a picture.

As I mentioned, it is the men in LifeChange who staff a lot of the homeless service positions. On Tuesday I met and joined the crew of seven men who prep and serve the daily meals. There have also been a couple other volunteers who have helped out as well.

The dayroom--offering protection from the elements outside, light meals, tables/chairs, and a bathroom--is open to the homeless guests three times a day, Tuesday through Friday. Breakfast (pastries, limited hot sandwiches, and coffee) is from 10-11:30, and lunch (pastries, sandwiches, and kool aid) is from 2-3:45. There is also a chapel service with a dinner afterwards in the evening – but I haven’t been part of that yet.

Pastry rack awaiting the breakfast crowd

My individual job has been to prep and hand out the pastries at three of the four meals in the two days I’ve been there. This morning at breakfast, we served over 100 guests. Breakfasts are usually a smaller group than lunch, but today’s breakfast crowd was evidently unusually large!

So here are my observations—in no particular order.

There are a wide variety of people who utilize the UGM services. Some don’t “look” homeless—others very obviously do.

There’s a wide range of responses from people coming through the line. Some don’t say a word, just point to what they want. Others interact briefly. A few express their gratitude.

Many of the guests go through the line multiple times, since they are only allowed two items at a time. Some get right back in line as soon as they’ve received their first items and make that circle often.

The dignity of choice – some guests have an opinion on exactly which piece of pastry they want. Most simply specify a flavor. Only a couple don’t care what they get.

People’s hands have struck me as I have placed the pastries into them. Some have been bent with age. Others have been the dirtiest hands I have ever seen. One person’s looked like it was bleeding along the edge of every fingernail. Many are decently clean.

The crew I work with is amazing. Maybe if I get their permission I’ll be able to share a bit of their stories with you. I’ve only heard snippets so far. But they have been so welcoming and supportive and encouraging to me. And they have fun together.

The crew leader gathers the members together and prays with them before each time of opening the doors to the guests. He also sometimes sings along loudly to the Christian music playing on the radio :)

Today's lunch line shortly after opening.

Some of the guests stay the whole time the dayroom is open. I noticed some gathered in small groups, apparently chatting and fellowshipping. Others come and go much more quickly.

There are those who carry their bag of belongings with them every time they go through the line…presumably because they don’t want to be apart from it even for a few minutes.

I couldn’t help but notice the apparent car key hanging around one guest’s neck…or the different leggings that another guest wore every time I saw her…or the presence of phones, including smart phones.

The excitement of one gentleman about going to get fitted for dentures to replace his missing teeth.

I watched as one of my crew mates helped one particularly troubled guest put his shoes and socks back on. This guest would rarely even wipe the snot from his nose…

Quite a few guests (relatively speaking) had dogs with them…Some little and a couple big!

Only a couple times so far have I witnessed cussing or rudeness. The LifeChange workers are quick to step in and deal with any issues that arise, so that things don’t get out of hand.

Inequality is hard. I haven’t been able to avoid taking note of the difference in the lunch served to the UGM staff/residents vs. the more limited fare for the homeless guests. And it pangs me that we live in a world in which such inequalities seem virtually unavoidable.

Yesterday at lunch, several guests were thrilled to get potato salad—such a seemingly small thing, but it seemed to make their day.

During lunch today, I sat with a lady at a resources table. She is a wealth of experience and information about what services are available to homeless people. She volunteers her time to help connect the UGM guests to what is available to help their individual situations. The goal is that I will be able to help her and maybe even do it in her absence…but the latter is a tall order, as there’s no way I can match her level of knowledge in such a short time!

Well, it’s late and I think that’s all I’ve got at this point. Thanks for reading!!

A Life Update

Obviously I'm not the best blogger!!!

My main excuse is that I have a monthly email newsletter I send out to a long list of friends--and I am usually very active on Facebook.

But I was getting ready to write a new blog post here...and then realized I should really put a more general update! Due to a variety of circumstances, including health issues, I ended up resigning from my position and leaving Uganda in April.

Here's the email update I sent out in July with my news about what is next, just in case you missed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life, and my feelings, have continued to be a roller coaster over these past months. There have been days that have been exciting and fun, like several trips with my parents—especially camping with Nathan over the 4^th of July in North Dakota.

But there have also been days when I haven’t wanted to get out of bed. I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t always responded rightly to the circumstances and trials that God has been allowing in my life for His purposes. In fact, there have been times my attitude has been downright rebellious.

But God. Two simple little words, but what a wealth of truth and hope is summed up in those two words.

I don’t have all the answers I wish I had. I made choices that led me to this place, which I regret. But I think one of the lessons I’m learning from this is being reminded that God is the Redeemer of broken things. And He has placed a new, open door of opportunity before me—even when I recognize so clearly that I have done nothing to deserve it.

Last year, I heard about an organization called Lahash and joined their mailing list. They partner with various grassroots ministries in East Africa. When I got back from Uganda in April, I found a brochure in my mail about a program they run called Servant Teams. Servant Teams is a gap year program for young people ages 18-30, with a motto of Love God, Serve Together. It focuses on training missional leaders for local and global ministries, something that I would love to be part of.

I was intrigued by what I read in the brochure, and even with the fresh pang of leaving Uganda I wondered if this might be something God had next for me. Well, I sent in my application on the day of the deadline, and the following week I had an interview with the program director. Seeing my own shortcomings and weaknesses, I doubted that I would be accepted into the program.

But the following week I got a call, offering me a place in this year’s Servant Team! It took a couple days for the reality of my acceptance to sink in and grow into excitement about this amazing opportunity. But by now I can say that I am definitely blessed and thrilled to be part of this program!

There are a lot of details about the coming year that I don’t know yet…but to read more of what I do know about it you can check out this link and watch the included video.

This is a 10-month program, running from September to June. I leave on August 29^th to start the program! The first five months our team of five [now four] will be taking part in trainings at Lahash’s headquarters in Portland, OR. We will also be interning at a Union Gospel Mission in Portland, or with a community development group called the Rosewood Initiative. Then in February we will travel to Tanzania, East Africa for another five months of interning with Grace and Healing Ministries, one of Lahash’s partners.

I don’t know yet what will come after June, or what other doors of opportunity being part of Servant Teams may open. But I believe this is what God has placed in front of me for the next year, and I can’t wait to be grown and stretched and renewed through it!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Obviously I am now in Portland, OR! I arrived about two weeks ago, and our team has dived right in to getting to know one another and being oriented to Lahash International's programs and underlying philosophy. It's been a fantastic and amazing experience so far!!

Here is our team of four, plus our two facilitators on either end:

Praising God for Colds & Delayed Flights

So this past week I’ve been in South Africa with a couple fellow staff ladies at a retreat for missionary women. As I type this, we’re in the air over Johannesburg on our way home to Kasana.

God’s timing is always so perfect – earlier this year when my friends started talking about this retreat, I thought it sounded like a good idea…..and then in the past couple months things have happened that have shown me just how much I really did need a time of renewal.

The past year has been filled with a lot of ups and downs—and for that matter so have the two years before that! Over the last few months, I’ve begun realizing that I’ve let those challenging circumstances affect me, putting layers of hardness around my heart.

On Sunday night when the retreat opened with a time of worship, we weren’t two lines into the first song before I had tears running down my face. I know without a doubt that people were praying over the retreat, because I felt the Holy Spirit honoring their prayers by breaking through the inner walls I had been allowing to build up.

God spoke to my heart that night more directly than I have felt Him speak in some time. Calling me to repentance—and reminding me of His forgiveness and love. That night I spent a chunk of time journaling it out so that I can remember and look back at it.

But I wasn’t feeling so well. Saturday as we had traveled to the retreat, I had felt myself coming down with a sore throat, which continued on Sunday. All day Monday, my nose was almost constantly running. And so while others went through Kleenex from crying, I was using them up to handle my cold.

I let myself be miserable about how I felt—wallowing in self-pity. Because I didn’t feel well, and I was annoyed about it. Justifiably so, right?

I made a comment to someone that day about how I was thankful for how God had been speaking to me during the retreat, but a bit apprehensive about whether the effect would “stick” after the ‘high’ of the retreat.

The next morning, I got up still feeling unwell—particularly because I hadn’t slept very soundly. As I was dragging around my room trying to get ready for the day, God gave me a much-needed slap in the face.

Our speaker for the retreat was talking about how we deal with suffering based on the book of Job. On Monday morning, she had talked about how people form different views of God in the face of suffering. Some become cynical, some think they know the answers, and others (like Job) choose to trust God’s sovereignty.

On Tuesday morning, the Holy Spirit showed me that I wasn’t having a very Job-like attitude. I was behaving selfishly, and letting my physical circumstance dictate my heart attitude. Which is the same choices that had kept me stuck in a pit of apathy for most of this year.

And so I had to again repent for my behavior. Even a silly little thing like a cold at an inconvenient time is NOT out of God’s purview!!! He allowed it for a reason—and my responsibility is not to mope and question why, but rather to accept it with thanksgiving and worship!

As I accepted that in my heart, the Holy Spirit filled my mind with verses from the Psalms and songs. I left my room singing worship to God. Because He totally changed the attitude of my heart!! Instead of being frustrated, I suddenly became thankful for the cold. It gave me just the practical test I needed to keep me humble and yet also show me how simple obedience really can be.

I told my small group this—and they could even see the difference in my face. Yes, I still felt a bit crummy—but when God turned my heart attitude around, that made a huge difference. And so I was able to enjoy the last two days of the retreat even more, as well as learning a valuable lesson in practical application!

Today my fellow staff member and I have had another test. We woke up at 3:30 this morning to go to their airport for our 6 a.m. flight (first of three) on the way back to Uganda. But, instead of leaving at 6 a.m., that flight didn’t take off until 11 a.m. (long story, believe me!!).

We were scheduled for a four-hour layover before the next flight—but obviously even that wasn’t long enough for a five-hour flight delay. Worse yet, that first leg of our trip was booked separately from the rest because it had been cheaper up front that way. But with the delay & missed flight, we were on our own between airlines.

Of course, it all worked out….but instead of arriving in Entebbe at 11 p.m., we will now arrive at 3:30 a.m.—and possibly be charged extra money. We’re still not quite sure on that point. We were quoted a price, but then not asked for payment.

Through it all, it’s been an opportunity to once again choose to trust God and not just be angry about what He has allowed. I felt especially bad for the flight crew of that first flight, as they had a plane full of mostly annoyed people (some who were rather vocal!!) sitting on the tarmac for three hours.

But God has a plan even in this, one we may never understand. But it’s all part of our sanctification process—because God is so good at what He does that **nothing** is wasted – He works ALL THINGS together for the GOOD of His beloved children!!

And *that* is why I’m thankful for a cold & a delayed flight.

{Now as I post this we’re waiting in Nairobi – our next flight boards in just about half an hour! Almost back to Uganda….!!}

A Ugandan Celebration

Last weekend, two of my colleagues who are cousins (S & G) lost their grandfather. They are from the southwestern corner of Uganda, almost all the way to Rwanda. As is normal here, a group was organized to go from New Hope in support of our sisters. I decided to go with them, because S is one of my closer friends here.

I'm glad I went for the funeral. I wanted to be there for S and G, and I’m glad I was. But I’m also grateful simply for being there and being able to experience the testimony to this man’s life. And I wanted to share the experience with you.

S & G are part of a western Ugandan tribe, so they speak a different language than the one spoken in the area where I live and work. So I understood even less of what was being said than I would have if it were in Luganda (the language I know tiny bits of). But a couple other of my fellow staff who went with us are from that area, so they helped translate some of what was spoken.

The man (I didn’t even catch his name!) who passed away was 107 years old; he had at least nine children, and there seemed to be close to 20 grandchildren there. Funerals in Uganda are normally big community events. I’m bad at estimating numbers, but I think there must have been at least 500 people there by the end of the service.

The grandfather accepted the Lord at the age of 7, and evidently spent the next one hundred years serving Christ faithfully. He was part of the Church of Uganda, which is Anglican. They had at least six pastors there to take part in the funeral, as well as a small choir with some beautiful local instruments. Between each part of the service, the leader would spontaneously break into a short hymn and the choir and attendees would join in. I really appreciated that – it felt like such a joyful celebration.

It is evidently customary at funerals in Uganda for someone close to the deceased to relate the story of their last days/moments on earth. I’ve noticed this at three of the five funeral services I’ve been at – and the other two I wasn’t there for the whole thing. In this case, one of the grandfather’s two surviving daughters explained what happened. I didn’t catch much, but he evidently had been sick for a couple months—mostly in the hospital—and finally an infection claimed his earthly body.

For him to have lived to 107 is really amazing in Uganda, where the life expectancy is about half that. Evidently he has a couple sisters who are still alive; they were there but didn’t speak because of their advanced age. As I said, this gentleman is survived by two of his daughters. A third daughter, S’s mom, died some years back. He also had six sons, but all six died before him (two in the past year, I think). Each of the sons' widows was there, though, and one of them spoke for the group. She told about their father-in-law’s generosity towards them – and she’s the one who got choked up while speaking.

The sister to S’s grandmother, who had also died before her husband, shared a bit as well. I think one of the things that especially blessed me was seeing the apparent unity in the family. Of course, I am not very familiar with their story – but what I saw yesterday seemed difference than what I often hear about here.

Last month, I listened to nine Ugandan women talk about their family background – and about half of them had a father who practiced polygamy. In a culture where bearing children (and lots of them) is considered “proof” of one’s manhood/womanhood, men often have children by multiple women – whether or not they are really married to all/any of them, and whether or not the man takes any part in raising the children.

During the car ride, we heard a radio talk show discussion about whether a person should let his/her spouse and “side dish” (a term that I eventually figured out meant a romantic interest outside of marriage) be friends. It basically took for granted that of course one would have such a “side dish,” the question was only if a man would let “his woman” (wife) be friends with her. It was such a demeaning conversation to have about women – as if they were just objects to be used as it pleased the man – especially in the way those terms were used.

That stood in such contrast to what I perceived about the man whose life we went to celebrate. There was no mention that I picked up on of other wives, half siblings, or similar family fragmentation. Instead, it seemed like this man was an example to his children and grandchildren – an example I saw fruit of as I watched them working together to prepare things for the service.

The grandchildren had shirts made with a photo of their grandfather, and under it were the words of 2 Tim. 2:7, about fighting the good fight. That’s also what the pastor preached on briefly. And the testimony lives on – one of S’s brothers is evidently a pastor, and he came and took the time to pray for our group before we started our long journey back.

The funeral service is often held in the family’s compound (their yard). In this case, the seating was in the open area between four houses – the grandfather’s house on one side, with three of his son’s homes on two of the other sides. Afterwards the body is usually buried in the family’s matooke plantation (an area where they grow a type of banana), including a cement topper.

I had been to three such burials already, and always I have been struck by the contrast between the family’s wailing and the hymns sung by those less deeply affected. At my first Ugandan burial, I wasn’t expecting the loud sobbing, and it really caught me off guard. This time, I was waiting for it – and it never came. The hymns were sung, the prayers were said – and I’m sure the emotions were there, but they weren’t given the same fierce expression I’ve seen before. This may be mainly because the other funerals I have attended have been for people who died too early' – in fact all three of the others were my age or younger. But it still seems a difference that I noticed.

S & G stayed there with their family. After a death like this, there are meetings to have and discussions/decisions to be made. So please keep them and their family in your prayers during the coming days.

Our group of 12 had left New Hope at about midnight and driven through Wednesday morning about 8.5 hours to reach the village where the funeral was. We were early for the service, which started at about 1 p.m., but it gave us a chance to relax a bit. Coming back took more like 10 hours because we made more stops. It was almost 2 a.m. on Thursday when I fell into my bed. So it was a LOT of traveling. I couldn’t help but notice the irony that my first three trips between Dallas and Entebbe each took about the same amount of time as the traveling we did yesterday. But as I said, I’m very glad I went. And, it is a beautiful area with lots of rolling hills - very different than our mostly flat area here!

Trekking with Rhinos

Last Saturday, I went on my first Ugandan “safari” experience. And it was certainly fun! (This is your "lucky" day, because for once it's a blog post with pictures!!! If you want to see the picture bigger, just click on it and it should open. Then you can hit your browser's "back" button to continue reading.)

We had several short-term visitors at New Hope at the moment, and so one of them wanted to go see some rhinoceros at a sanctuary nearby – and she opened it up to whoever else wanted to come along to decrease the per person transportation costs. There ended up being eight of us!

So Saturday morning we left dark and early (instead of bright and early, because at 5:30 a.m. it is still very dark here!!!). After we hit the tarmac (paved road) in Luwero (the larger town 30 minutes away), it started to rain – and it really poured for a bit of the drive. In the back seat, we (our team coordinator’s wife, myself, and a Canadian visitor) were pretty talkative most of the way when we could actually hear one another ;-)

Eventually the sun rose, though it was still really overcast. We got to the rhino sanctuary before 8.

The sign for the sanctuary on the main road; no, those are NOT real rhinos!

While we were checking in and paying at the main office, we got our first “wild” life sighting – a warthog named Pumbaa, appropriately enough :) But he was quite domesticated, not really wild at all. The staff were petting him, so some of our group did too! Very very wiry & bristly – certainly not like petting fur!

Warthog Pumbaa eating the doormats…I don’t know why…

Wild Ugandan rhinos were victim to a lot of poaching, especially during the civil wars in the 1980s. The last one was actually killed in 1983. So the rhinos at the sanctuary have been re-introduced to Uganda, and the staff are working on breeding them with the hopes of one day releasing some to other wildlife parks in Uganda. Currently, this sanctuary is the only place to see wild rhinos in Uganda.

The rhinos have personal guards who are with them 24/7 to make sure they are doing fine, and also to keep track of their whereabouts to make it easier to take tourists to find them. In our case, we drove for a few minutes deeper into the sanctuary, then followed our guide trekking through the grass on foot to where the rhinos were. Within an hour of arriving, we had our eyes on two rhinos! Bella, who I think is the founding matron in the sanctuary, and Luna, her 14-month old calf.

Meet Bella the Rhino!

It was kind of hard to get good pictures because of all the grass (it is certainly still rainy growing season!), and because rhinos don’t hold their heads up very much (too busy eating, and their heads are very heavy!).

Bella is currently pregnant (baby rhinos stay in the womb for 16 months!), but still nursing Luna – which we got to see for a couple minutes! 

Luna nursing from mother Bella

It was rainy (just lightly sprinkling) and chilly, which initially seemed like a downside…but it was actually good because otherwise the rhinos may have just bedded down for the day. The guide told us rhinos usually eat most of the night, when it’s cooler, and then in the heat they sleep.

We followed Bella and Luna as they meandered along, chomping away at the short grass. We stayed at a respectful distance, though, of course! This pictures shows about how close we were. Sorry it’s just the rhinos butts! ;-) 

Safari Esther & the Rhino Butts

Here’s the best picture I got of this first family group, this is Luna the “baby.” She was standing still because she had just been peeing. I got a picture of that too, but I was laughing too much and so the picture is shaky because of the gray skies. 

Luna Posing

We went back to our car and drove to another spot to see a different group of rhinos. This one was two of the “teenage” girls (Malaika, age 4 and Laloyo, age 3.5) and Moja, the dominant male in the herd (there are 14 rhinos currently living on the sanctuary). We followed a trail the rhinos had made through the grass that was taller than we were (but not thick, so we could still see), and found them feeding.

The Teenagers Feeding

We moved to one side, and as we watched the three rhinos started moving back towards the road and our car. The guide said they could smell the fuel from the car and were curious about what was going on. Sure enough, when we got to the car they were just standing on the road looking at it from a short distance away. The guides had told us that rhinos cannot see very well, they have much better hearing.

We stood at the front end of our vehicle, and the rhinos were just standing there looking towards us from behind the rear of the van. It was pretty amazing! 

Curious Rhinos - note the mirror of the van in the foreground!

It made the guide and the guard a little nervous, so they told us to get in the van. We did, and being in the back seat I was only about 8-9 feet away from these massive mammals. Thankfully with glass/metal between me and them! Here’s a video I took at that point (sorry for all the noise, my camera makes a lot of focusing noise as it takes video).

After a few minutes, the girls got bored and headed off into the bush on the other side of the road. Then Moja came and stood behind the van. He has had his horn sawn off, because just a couple months ago one of the young males had died from an injury in a fight. Anyways, Moja took several steps nearer, until finally I’m sure he was no more than 6 feet away. Then he backed up a bit and turned to go parallel to our vehicle. When he did, I realized by my sudden panting that I had been holding my breath a bit! :D

Moja lumbering towards the front end of the vehicle

He then went towards where the two guides were standing outside of the vehicle. He turned and faced them, and they moved quickly to the back end of the vehicle. When they did, Moja took a step towards our vehicle, but then changed his mind and “ran” (for about five steps) off into the bush. Our heart beats were all a bit higher after that! It had looked for a minute like he might charge at either our guides or the vehicle. I never felt actually in danger, just had a very healthy respect for these large, wild animals!

That ended our rhino sightings for the day – but not our experience! We drove some good distance (still within the sanctuary) to the lodge where we would have lunch. On the way, we saw monkeys, mongoose, bushbuck (like dear), and birds! Sorry I didn’t get any pictures of the first three, our driver wasn’t the slow down & stop for every moving creature type…. But I did get a picture of this family of Helmeted Guineafowl as they ran to stay ahead of us on the road. 

Helmeted Guineafowl, 2 Parents & 3 Chicks

We got to the lodge early, so I lay relaxing on a hammock and ended up falling asleep for a bit! The lunch was amazing, such delicious food!!! Then it was time to head back home to Kasana.

But on the way, we did convince the driver to stop when we spotted a large swarm of butterflies!!

Butterfly Cluster!

I think there must have been a carcass or some small mineral area or something to attract so many. In an area not much more than one square foot, there were dozens and dozens of butterflies, of probably 7 or 8 types!

Zooming in on the smaller ones

By then the sun had come out again, and we had an uneventful drive back to Kasana – taking exciting memories with us!

My next post will be about some recent interesting insect incidents!

Regarding Wedding Feasts

I just got back from my third Ugandan wedding. Unsurprisingly, weddings here are somewhat different than in America. For one thing, there are usually two parts to weddings here. One is the culturally Ugandan “introduction,” where the bride price is decided and paid. I haven’t been to one of those yet. The second is the “church wedding,” which borrows a lot from the traditional western ceremony.

A major difference, though, is that frequently the wedding ceremony is combined with something else. Both of the weddings I have attended at Kasana have taken place during the church service. The wedding two weeks ago in Kobwin occurred as part of the school’s end of year ceremony. My understanding is that this is done to save money.

Weddings are also a much more open affair here. In every wedding I have heard about, an open invitation was extended to the whole church and/or the surrounding community. This goes along with the more communitarian lifestyle here. So at a wedding, many of the guests may not know the bride or groom personally – certainly not in the same way as at American weddings where each guest is individually invited.

The receptions (and meals) are also usually open to whoever wants to come. So far I have only been part of one of those, so my experience is fairly limited. But that is what this post is about.

As I wrote in my post about my trip to Kobwin, I helped a bit to prepare the food for the wedding there. The ladies on staff at Kobwin spent hours preparing a feast for the wedding party and special guests (community leaders, plus members of the staff who came from Kasana for the wedding). These VIPs had matooke (steamed banana, a traditional food) with g-nut (peanut) sauce, rice, beef and sauce, chicken and sauce, and sautéed cabbage. That is a fairly typical “special meal” here.

For the general public who were going to come, the cooks prepared pilau, flavored rice with some beef mixed in. This was the very first wedding to take place at Kobwin, so everyone was excited about it. But that also meant that we really didn’t have a good way to know how many people would show up.

In the middle of the wedding ceremony, I tried to estimate how many people were there. There were probably more than 100 children sitting on mats on the ground in front of me, probably at least 250 people sitting on chairs or benches under the awning on one side, plus more people behind me. A few people were still arriving as the wedding ceremony was wrapping up, even though that was more than five hours after the event had been scheduled to start.

I had offered to help serve the food to the community, so as the wedding party and VIPs headed over to another area for their meal, I went over to the area where we had cooked the food. The pilau was staying hot in a huge pot. Here is a picture from earlier in the morning to show you just how big it was. I don’t know how they managed to pack so much food into that pot, but when I went to help serve it was mounded high.

The first thing we had to do was use bowls to scoop the rice/beef into somewhat smaller (but still two times bigger than anything Americans have at home!) pots so that we could serve food from multiple locations to different groups of people (the extended family of the bride/groom, the other guests—men first, and the children). We had what seemed a big stack of bowls for people to eat out of….until we started splitting them up and looking at the crowds.

As I said, there were more than 100 children there, and those were just the ones under the age of 10 or so! The lady in charge had the children all come sit on the ground under a tree. We had one washing basin full of food for them, and maybe about 20 bowls. There was some food still on the fire in reserve, but it was easy to see that there was not an overabundance of food.

I could feel the tension and frustration level increase a bit among those who were preparing to serve the food. Ugandans tend to serve very substantial portions of food, two or three times the portion size I typically eat. But there was no way the food was going to last like that. So with the kids, we were serving up a typical Uganda portion, but then trying to have three kids eat from that bowl.

The kids crowded towards the food….they had been sitting for hours and hours, and I’m sure they were very hungry. There wasn’t much I could do to help, there were several of us standing there trying to keep the horde somewhat orderly and figure out how to make things work. We took a big serving tray and had seven kids share from the food we put on it. Slowly the crowd of hungry children began to diminish. But by then it seemed we really were out of food, guests from the other groups were even coming to the cooking area trying to get food.

I think there were about 20 children left who hadn’t had anything to eat yet. I’ll never forget their eyes and their faces. Hungry eyes, somewhat desperate expressions on their faces. I felt like we had failed them. Even the ones who had gotten some to eat probably hadn’t had as much as they wanted.

Feelings and emotions started clashing and flooding my heart. Frustration over the cultural norm that meant so so many people came, some who I negatively assumed had come only for the purpose of eating the meal. Pain when I thought about these kids who weren’t getting the meal they had hoped, for whom—as far as I knew—this may have been their best chance at a good meal for the day. Helplessness that there was really nothing I could do. Recognition of the orphan heart that New Hope talks about in these kids—the orphan heart that always wants/needs more than is given.

Any joy and celebration of the day had left me. I could feel a flood building, I knew my inner dam would break soon. I turned and left, walking towards the rocks to escape and vent. As I went, I met the bridal party coming back from their feast to rejoin the guests for the rest of the celebration reception. Honestly, deep inside I was angry…..so angry…..but, either by God’s grace or plain hypocrisy, I was able to greet and congratulate the bride and groom, and my two good friends who were the best man and matron of honor. Once the interaction had passed, though, I was only closer to tears.

I attacked climbing the rock as the sobs started coming. I didn’t care that thorns were scratching my legs, that tagalong seeds and burrs were catching onto one of my nicer dresses. I finally felt myself out of sight, and I let it all go. The tears streamed down my face as I thought about the children’s hungry eyes.

I should point out that I was pretty tired from having woken up very early to help fix food. I was also overly emotional that weekend for other reasons. Now as I look back from a more rational mindset, it does not all seem as dire as it did then. But it is still something I will always remember—my first experience seeing the expression of hungry children who feared there would not be enough for them.

In the midst of the stormy tears, all I could do was pray for those kids. I knew God loved them, I knew God could see them….I knew they were important to Him. My mind flew to the future wedding feast of the Lamb that we are told about in Revelation. I couldn’t help but think about how that wedding too is open to all who will come through faith in Christ—but there, there will be no running out of food. And so I prayed that somehow those precious children would know the gospel of Christ so that they may join us at that feast.

I lay on the rocks until I had calmed some, then went down to the house where I was staying. I was still emotionally raw, though, and I couldn’t bring myself to eat any of the food Constance said was left over from the VIP’s meal since all I could think of was the children who hadn’t gotten food. Hearing her comment to someone else that the large bucket for food waste needed to be emptied for the second time (leftovers from the VIP’s plates) just set me off again.

I retreated to music on my tablet, to anything to get my mind off of being stuck in what I had felt. Two of the foreign staff ladies could tell something was wrong, and one pushed gently to get me to talk. I explained what had happened through heaving sobs, and she was just there with me in that and prayed for me. After some time alone reading, I was finally able to move on.

On Monday evening, we had dinner with the Kobwin staff member who had been the one coordinating the food for the community. She mentioned the fact that I had disappeared from the wedding, and I asked about how things ended. She said that everyone had gotten fed, that as the rain storm came in everyone else was leaving and so she took the last of the food for herself to eat. She even said she had invited some people to come have seconds once everyone else had gotten some.

So I have chosen to take her at her word on that, even though I didn’t see on Saturday how in the world that outcome could be possible. Maybe some of the leftovers from the VIPs were used to serve the community. Maybe they had some extra rice they could cook. I don’t know how it worked. Part of me wishes I had stuck it out to see how it ended. Most of me just takes it all as a reminder that we in ourselves can never truly satisfy the needs of others. Only God is enough to do that. Praise Him that His goodness never runs out!

The Beauty of Kobwin, Part 3

I should have added to the end of my last post that the family parents of the first family group are going to be coming to Kasana (our main center, where I live) for the Institute of Childcare and Family from January to May of next year. We will be classmates since I am also taking the Institute during that time. Now that I know them a bit, I am eagerly looking forward to this upcoming opportunity to grow in relationship with them!!  :)

Monday morning marked the beginning of our last full day in Kobwin, at least for this trip. The manager had announced at church that the students needed to come to the school at 7:30 on Monday morning to do a project with me. Unfortunately, not all of the day students were at church….so we mostly just had the students who live on site.

But other than that it went pretty well. It took a lot longer than we were expecting (three hours), partly because the students were having so much fun coloring and drawing after they had done the writing bit! Also because students didn’t all come right at 7:30, they kind of trickled in over the first couple hours. Thankfully we had enough papers and colored pencils to keep everyone occupied!

I had simply written a couple basic examples. Other than telling the children to put their name, age, class, prayer requests, and signature, I really didn’t give much instruction. Later that week, as I read through the kids’ requests, I was mostly impressed. Sure, I chuckled at a couple (“I want to be the next Obama”), but there were also some that showed the students’ positive character (“Please pray that I would have a forgiving heart”). There were also some that included bits of Spanish, since we recently had our first ever team from Mexico and they spent most of their trip at Kobwin.

Once the last student had finished, Constance took me on a tour of the property there. She was taking some pictures of the community outside for comparison. It was interesting to see a few houses and learn a bit more about Ugandan culture in that area. For example, there are lots of large gray rocks in that area, and the people there use them to dry potatoes and things like that as a method of preserving food.

{Side note – since Kobwin is in a different part of the country, the people are mostly of a different tribe and thus speak a different language. I kept wanting to use my small bits of Luganda, and then remembering that the people there may not understand it because they speak Ateso instead (or sometimes also)!}

By then it was only 11 or so, but already so so hot that we gave up on our walk, even though we had only gone part of the way around the property. That was one of the unfortunate parts about Kobwin….it is much hotter there than at Kasana, so activity becomes much less enticing pretty early in the day.

{Kasana will be warmer these next couple months than it has been, though, because we’re now entering one of the dry seasons. I got back towards the beginning of the rainy season, and there have been a few times where it has felt down right cold here at Kasana! But really that means it was “only” 60 degrees or so…..}

Later that afternoon I went and did a quick email check for the first time in five days, then played a couple games with some of the kids. First we tried doing dominoes, but we only had a double sixes set and we had about eight players. So it didn’t work too well. Then we played cards for a while, until a football {soccer} game started and most of the students wanted to join that {when thinking about Kobwin, it doesn’t seem right to call them “kids” or “children,” because so many of them are in their late teens or early twenties! So I end up calling them “students” instead, even in non-school contexts.}

My three young friends from Friday then wanted to take me up on top of the rocks right behind Constance’s house. A couple of the youngest staff kids decided to tag along, and my guides didn’t want them to come, saying “they’re going to cry!” I had been up on the rocks just a bit on Saturday, and so knew to watch out for 1) thorns and 2) cow paddies. But I was looking forward to being led up to the top, since I had just kind of wandered around. I figured I could help the little ones if needed.

Well, the wind started picking up…..sure sign of a storm blowing in. We tried to go up the way the boys knew, but the two youngest ones were scared…it involved climbing up onto one rock and then immediately scooting through a narrow space from another rock on top in order to get higher. I couldn’t quite figure out how to get up the rock, even though I was definitely the tallest in the group. {Wearing a skirt and flip flops is a convenient excuse, right?} The little girl proceeded to cry a bit, so I called everybody back and helped the little ones down.

We tried going up another way, but it was too overgrown to really get onto the top. The littlest boy cried somewhere along there too, so the guide’s prediction proved correct! We had seen that the sky was getting dark, though, and when we started feeling a few raindrops I said that we had to get down before it poured on us. So down we went, none the worse for the little adventure.

The storm took longer to really come in than I thought it would, but my word, it really did POUR when it came! So the temperature was quite a bit cooler in the evening than it had been in the late morning. There were a couple girls in Constance’s house when I got back, so we shut the windows (to keep the rain coming in) and then used solar battery lanterns (because there’s no power there) to see enough to play cards (since we couldn’t hear one another talk because of the rain pounding on the roof!). It was a fun day :)

Then that evening, we three muzungus (Lugandan term for white foreigners) went to the second family group for devotions and dinner. And this family mother fed us a small feast! She makes me chuckle even as I think back about it – she is definitely the mothering type!! She kept urging us “You eat! Be free! Drink your tea!” And she insisted on sending me away with some homemade peanut butter, the best I’ve ever had!

Both of the sets of family parents were just so welcoming and so ready to open their homes, hearts, and families to include us. It was a special time getting to know some of the special members of our extended spiritual family!!! They accepted me and loved me and encouraged me, even in a short few days. I was definitely blessed, and I look forward to seeing them again whether here at Kasana or on future trips to Kobwin!

The next day we left Kobwin by 6 a.m., and in Kampala I bid farewell to Constance and the others and headed to the mall to print pictures, then on to public to go home on my own. It all worked out, thankfully, and I was back home to Kasana by about 7 that evening. {Constance needed to take a young boy to Entebbe--south of Kampala--for a surgery. Keep him in your prayers, please! He has now had a second surgery, and is in a cast for a while.}

The Beauty of Kobwin, Part 2

Well, it’s nearly a week later and I’m finally getting around to writing more about Kobwin!

On Friday morning, I got started taking pictures of the students there for the prayer cards we were planning to have them do for sending to prayer supporters in the U.S. I was a bit unsure of myself at first, but the family parents (our staff members) welcomed me in and encouraged me “be free!” and to not be afraid.

Soon their young twin boys and one of the younger students from the family group were helping me by pulling in the students I hadn’t gotten pictures of, finding them on my list, and even copying what I told them to write as the description so I would know who was who later! I really appreciated those three young fellas helping make me feel more at home :)

Around lunch time, Constance and a couple of the staff members got busy mixing lemon juice and powdered sugar to make the typical Ugandan cake frosting. One of the ladies had amazingly baked the cakes on a sigeri (charcoal-burning small round stove) since ovens are not common household appliances. (As I think I mentioned in my previous post, there was a wedding coming up the next day!).

We had fun frosting the cakes, wrapping them in ribbon, and then trying to add more frosting since we had a lot of extra. The problem with the latter was that we didn’t go slowly, letting one layer of frosting harden before putting on the next layer. So it ran all over and we spent some time frantically trying to shore up the “dams” of the ribbons….and pretty nearly just ended up with a big mess! But it all worked out :)

After we had got that straightened out, I went down to the school to start helping prepare food for the wedding. We peeled matooke, sorted/winnowed pounded ground nuts (peanuts), and chopped up several cabbages. The first two were new experiences for me! The ladies also had some young men gather large rocks to build fire pits of sorts for cooking the food. By then it was dark, and so lack of electricity sent us all home.

The next morning, the day of the wedding, at least a couple of the ladies woke up at 2:30 a.m. to start preparing the meal for the wedding. By the time I got there around 3:30 or 4, there were about a dozen people working by flashlight, and five or six fires going under massive pots (I’m talking two to three feet in diameter!). At first most of them were butchering the meat (cow and chicken) that I think had been slaughtered the night before. I thankfully missed the slaughtering bit! But the rest about the wedding feast will need a blog post of its own.

By 7 or so most of us went home and showered to try and get the smoke smell off before getting dressed up for the wedding. The ceremony was scheduled to start around 9—and I think it did start pretty close to that. The first hour or so was taken up by the two processionals of groomsmen/groom and bridesmaids/bride. It is evidently the tradition at least in that part of Uganda for the processional to be very very slow. I guess it helps make sure people arrive before things really get started?

Anyway, we had the school’s end of year ceremony, complete with speeches, musical numbers, etc. The crowd steadily increased as time went on, and between every couple of pieces of the program the MC would again welcome those who were just arriving. That’s just part of the “African time” culture here…..(my friends’ youngest son slept in my lap for an hour).

Then we went straight into the wedding, including more singing and dancing. Vows and rings were exchanged, a culturally acceptable (though exuberant) hug took place instead of a Western-style kiss. Then Uncle Jonnes preached a short wedding message that even I as a single appreciated…about how 50-50 isn’t sufficient for a marriage…God calls a husband and wife to give 100% to one another as an example of how Christ held nothing back but gave 100% of Himself for us!

Finally, at 3:30 I think? It was time to serve the wedding meal. I was helping with that also….and as I said above that will be the subject of another blogpost. Quite a bit later, a threatening rainstorm blew in, putting an end to the wedding festivities. We enjoyed simple rice & beans for dinner, and I went to bed early!

Sunday was a very chill day, everyone just needed to recover from the wedding! Church that morning was an interesting experience. Lots of dancing and clapping from the worship leader…he had to have two handkerchiefs to try and keep up with the sweat of his exuberance! Also, here at Kasana, we do the service in English and it is translated into Luganda. But in Kobwin, the service is carried out in Ateso and then translated into English sentence by sentence. So it was my first time here to be understanding the translated sermon rather than as originally spoken.

In the afternoon I worked on sharpening three gallon bags of colored pencils for kids to use the next day on the prayer cards. Thankfully the three little musketeers, my friends from the day before, showed up and pitched in to help me with that!

That evening we attended devotions with the first family group at Kobwin, and then had dinner with the family parents. Oh my, such a feast she set before us! I really enjoyed getting to know them better and hear bits of their story! A couple girls from the family had helped the mom cook, so they ate with us as well.

Well, I am falling asleep here on Tuesday night as I try to type this…so I think I better call it quits and finish another evening!