given

“Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh…”

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…”

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…”

You get the picture. Christmas, snow, and cold pushed up against the warmth and comfort of friends and family and holiday cheer. Well, as I look out my window today, I see green palm trees in 79-degree weather on this 24^th of December in Uganda. What we lack in snow, we more than make up for in dust and dirt. It’s a stretch to convince myself that it is Christmas, not summertime.

Away from my family this Christmas, I’ll admit I’ve not really been in the Christmas mood. Today, however, like a collage coming together, I’ve been reflecting on some extraordinarily unordinary moments that have happened recently…and have been convicted (again) about what Christmas should really mean.

Yesterday, I got “real” mail, a handwritten Christmas card…from someone in the US, a stranger, who told me I was in her prayers and sent me vegetarian recipes.

At the beginning of this week I took 4 of our Hope Alive! kids to an eye clinic. A friend of mine researched for me and introduced me to a foundation that sponsors eye care programs for the disadvantaged around the world …A Ugandan doctor linked to that organization and working at a local hospital made it possible for our children to be seen free of charge, now and in the future. Three of those kids needed and got glasses that will allow them to finally be able to read the blackboard at school. Another dear friend of mine from home sponsors one of the girls, making it possible for us to buy her the glasses that will make reading and studying so much easier now.

Earlier this month, as I was drowning in pages and pages of medical records from our 500 Hope Alive! kids, someone generously donated money for an iPad to be purchased for Hope Alive! to store its medical documents. Through more miraculous networks, a medical company has also donated their iPad application to make my job of keeping track of the medical details of 500 kids much much easier.

I got an email this last week telling me that a group of old church friends wanted to give me a collective gift…because they love me.

Today, I went with a group of my Ugandan friends to a home for about 150 street children. We did a skit of the Christmas story, gave out clothes, candy, and biscuits, and listened to their stories. The thing that made my heart ache about these kids is not they are orphans, but that they have all been left, abandoned, or not cared for enough to be found when they went missing. Many are sick or mentally handicapped, but most are normal and bright children who have families somewhere.

In all these stories I see a beautiful thread running throughout…giving…and with it, Love. Whether the gift involved time, money, friendship, something tangible, or not, each one was valuable and precious.

Today is Christmas Eve, the day that is on the edge of the greatest gift known to mankind…

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given...”

Isaiah 9:6

Those words have been echoing around in my head today after visiting those street kids. Given.

One dictionary definition describes it as, “to freely devote, set aside, or sacrifice for a purpose.”

Christmas…that GOD would become man, homeless at His birth, servant during His life…freely, out of His love and purpose for me.

Such juxtaposition. Street kids given up as lost or unloved. GOD, given to us, to find us out of the lost-ness of our sin.

“And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, 
 Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

So, Merry Christmas from Uganda and may the Peace of Immanuel, God with us, reign in your hearts.

John 14:18

Have been thinking on these words, how true for each one of us...

"I believe in the love of God, it is an orphan's wildest dream..."

from the song "Narrow Little Road" by Red Mountain Church

faces

The faces were overwhelming because at first glance they all looked the same to my stranger eyes. That first saturday club, over a year ago, at Hope Alive!, I struggled to hold on to names but finally gave up - there was no way I could remember over 80 names attached to each brown face with brown eyes and short black hair.

Uganda and I celebrated our 1 year anniversary on October 5th, 2010...and so this blog is, I guess, my tribute to our relationship over the past year - its newness, its joys, challenges, heartbreaks, triumphs, celebrations, surprises, tears, and...growing familiarity.

But, how do I summarize a year so that you can be like, "oh, that's what she's been doing all this time"?

Hmm.

Like all of life, it seems (no matter where you live or what you do, I may add), it trickles down to a series of moments that imprint themselves on your heart and soul. Most of those moments aren't grand or earth-shattering; no, they are usually plain-jane ordinary and sneak up on you in their elusive beauty.

Like I had expected, during this first year, Uganda has changed me more than I have (or ever will) change it. The truth is, my "previous life," you know, the one where I was an ER nurse and routinely did CPR, worked 16-hour days, took care of ICU and trauma patients, etc., seems much more "glamorous" than what I do now. Almost everything here seems slow, time-intensive, and will probably involve some amount of dirt and diligence. As I've adjusted to a new culture, new climate, new food, and new friends, I've also been in the process of adjusting to a new...me. The me that is a community health nurse and lives in Africa (?!??! two things I never thought I would say about myself...). I often think that I should be used to it by now; but at times, as I'm driving in the crazy Kampala traffic or visiting a child's home, the thought comes to me with just as much shock as it had on day 1 - I live in Africa. Weird.

I started learning names, slowly. Most of the kids have hair cut or shaved short like a boy - even the girls (the schools require it) - so I couldn't use it as a feature to remember them by. However, I learned quickly there was something that stayed the same, almost every week, and set them apart from one another - their clothes. Most of the kids wear the same thing every week because 1.) they don't have other clothes to choose from and or 2.) it is their best or special outfit. So, while I couldn't always recognize his or her face, I knew that that striped dress with the missing button belonged to ___ and those worn red boots belonged to ____.

But back to summarizing.

Hmm.

It becomes difficult for me to summarize something (my life) which is not at all regular or routine. I can tell you I don't work in a clinic, or hospital or orphanage. I get to be a Jill-of-all-trades - I take kids to doctor's appointments, I do paperwork and write policies, I travel, I put Band-Aids on scraped knees, I "network," I trend lab values and read pathophysiology for tropical diseases, I cross out "bad" clinics from my list, I travel, I visit kids in slums, and houses, and huts. I wait. I buy enough medications to stock my own pharmacy, I look in eyes, and ears and noses, I make phone calls, I give advice, I learn my numbers and colors in another language. I wait (more). I play and pray with kids of all sizes and ages. I sing and dance in church. I teach about being clean, and look at (another) skin rash. I wait (it never ends).

But that's probably not the best representation. Maybe I can better explain by telling you a story. (Maybe you've heard part of it if you read my blog).

Kizito (Chi-zee-toh) is 14-years old, but would fit in better with a group of ten-year olds by his size. Most of Kizito's life has revolved around feeling sick and pain and seeing or fearing death because he and his older sister and younger brother all have Sickle Cell Disease. Kizito and his siblings don't really understand what that means except that it works itself out in an ongoing cycle of being sick, having a tummy ache or a hard time breathing, missing school, going to the clinic, and maybe staying in the hospital or getting a shot. They don't understand how it will continue to affect their lives, but they do know that they saw an older sister already die of the same disease.

Their father isn't in the picture. A doctor told Kizito's mother, "You'll never survive. Sickle cell is too expensive to treat and you have three children with it."

We started slowly. Visiting their small home with pictures and diagrams to help the mother understand the disease, letting her ask questions; then, bringing the children to Kampala for extensive medical testing. And out of that realizing the scary truth - almost every lab value in the two pages of tests were highlighted with an abnormal value and knowing the resources available here are not equal for the task of treating them.

And so we do what we can - we do the simple and the basic - basic medications, vitamins, vaccines, good nutrition, good teaching... As an example, for sickle cell kids, it is essential that they stay hydrated to avoid sending them into a crisis which could put them in the hospital. We got them all re-usable water bottles they could carry with them to school. I was told later that they are so proud of their water bottles because they are so "fancy" and no other kids at school have something like that. The last time I saw Kizito, he shyly told me that he is drinking 3 of his bottles a day and I could see visible signs that he was improved in this department.

One of our site managers helps get extra food to the family each month and is teaching the mother to grow food in her own small garden plot. She told me, "Things have changed so much with that mother. She used to be sad and depressed all the time and complain about her children being sick and how she couldn't care for them. Now...now she has smile. Hope is coming to that home."

I don't know if I can help you to see how many lessons I have learned are demonstrated in this story...The needs are everywhere and overwhelming. We never have enough time, energy, money, or ability to meet all those needs. Yet, we are not excused to ignore the needs; we are held accountable and responsible to love and care. And perhaps the most important - out of the very small and ordinary God will do the miraculous and beautiful, just when we know we have failed and are helpless to do anything more.

My confession is that I still don't know every child's name...but now, now I know many of them and as I look into their faces I don't have to try to conjure up a name because I remember hearing her tell me her story, I am a part of memories and time spent together, I see the uniqueness of his smile and laugh, the unforgettable way she can dance...I know them because I have grown to love them as individuals, not a group of look-a-likes.

I made the small video above because it summarizes my "Year One" better than my words can. When I think over the past year, I can't really remember any major life accomplishments...instead I see these faces.

At Hope Alive! one of our goals is that every child will know that he or she is "uniquely created, deeply loved, and specifically gifted." I pray that each of you, like me and each of our kids here in Uganda, will come to believe these things for yourself...

....That God has uniquely created you...

....That God deeply loves you...

....that God has specifically gifted you...

...that out of His overwhelming LOVE, He knows your name and sees your face.

Pictorial Prayer...and Praise – 10.05.2010

praise!! This week marks my 1-year anniversary of being in Uganda!! It is amazing to think back to my first days of being a stranger in Africa, contrasted to the life God has given me here now.

please pray as I will be traveling to Kenya this week for a spiritual renewal conference. Pray that God would use this time of rest and quiet to speak to me about His plans for this next year I have in Uganda...and what decisions come after that!

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us

in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us

in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In

love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in

accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace,

which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption

through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of

God's grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding.”

Eph.1:3-8

please pray for Hope Alive!’s second annual walk-a-thon.

Last year Hope Alive! held it's first annual walk-a-thon in a supporting church in the Midwest. This year, we are expanding the walk-a-thon to supporting churches and individuals across the U.S.

I am particularly excited because this year the proceeds will go to fund a health project I am coordinating for Hope Alive! - helping to provide clean water for our Hope Alive! kids in Northern Uganda.

The walk-a-thon will be taking place in the US on October 9th, but this coming Saturday our Hope Alive! kids here in Uganda will be having their own walk-a- thon to show solidarity with all those helping us in America.

This is a great opportunity to raise awareness for our brothers and sisters in Uganda, and to help bring hope in an incredibly powerful way educating and equipping others so they may have safe, clean drinking water. Visit www.thewaterschool.org to learn more about the Uganda-based organization we are partnering with to bring clean water to our students and families.

If you are interested in participating in our US walk-a-thon, please contact me and I can get you information on joining a group or hosting your own.

unaccustomed

One of my favorite pastimes is early morning grocery shopping. No, not like 6am grocery shopping...more like 1am. Safeway feels like a different store at that time of the day, although surprisingly more people actually shop in those wee hours than you would probably think. Besides the obstacle courses of boxes being sorted and stocked onto the shelves, you can practically breeze through your shopping list. (If you do decide to embark on a midnight grocery run, it's much more fun to bring a buddy along.)

Point being, even during the middle of the night I could still browse the aisles of cereals and canned goods, choose the best bag of grapes, and pick the Charmin toilet paper over the Quilted Northern.

This past week I brought a family to Kampala for medical evaluation. This family lives "up-country" - meaning, more or less, a rural village a few hours outside the city-life of Kampala where not a lot of resources are available.

The three children in the family all have Sickle Cell Disease. At 16-, 14-, and 5-years old, these kids know more about pain and feeling tired and sick than I have known in my entire life.

In Kampala, they went through a battery of tests. The middle child, Kizito, was so dehydrated he had to be poked 4 times for his blood tests. I squeezed his hand and told him that if he could be brave enough to get through it we would have ice cream later.

The kids had never been to the city before, so, even though they were here to see the doctor, they were full of smiles and wide-eyed wonder at the sights of the busy streets and big buildings.

The highlight of their trip was getting to visit Shoprite, one of Kampala's biggest grocery stores. The town they come from has nothing that even comes close to a grocery store - Shoprite is something they only see in the magical land of television.

The three kids, their mother, a friend, and I wandered the store together. I held little 5-year old Yusuf's hand and we went down every aisle, starting with beverages and ending with cleaning supplies. We stopped periodically to explain things to the kids - like how meat is packaged and kept in a refrigerated aisle - and look at the strange conveniences of such a modern store - like packaged vegetables and limitless varieties of cookies and crackers.

To look at their faces you would have thought they were in Disneyland - full of happiness and wonder.

Winnie, the oldest turned to me with bright eyes and said, "Everything here is so beautiful!"

We got our ice cream, carefully chosen cups of chocolate and vanilla flavors, but as we checked out, the kids were much more excited about each having their own yellow plastic bag with the red word "Shoprite" printed on it - so that they could show it to their friends at school and prove that they actually visited Shoprite!!

I've never felt so humble and honored to walk the aisles of a grocery store before. To me, it is part of normal life, a necessity. For these kids, it was a memory they will remember for the rest of their lives.

It was a moment that reminded me how small my world is, how enshrouded my thinking; because I have forgotten how blessed I have been my entire life...and how overwhelmed I should feel by all of those blessings, everyday. Physical, spiritual, emotional, relational blessings overflow my life.

"...you could easily come to believe life isn't that big of a deal, that life isn't staggering. What I'm saying is I think life is staggering and we're just used to it. We all are like spoiled children no longer impressed with the gifts we're given - it's just another sunset, just another rainstorm moving over the mountain, just another child being born, just another funeral...

...If I have a hope, it's that God sat over the dark nothing and wrote you and me, specifically, into the story, and put us in with the sunset and the rainstorm as though to say, Enjoy your place in my story. The beauty of it means you matter, and you can create within it even as I have created you."

---A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Donald Miller

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To learn more about Sickle Cell Disease, go to http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/sickle-cell-anemia/DS00324

Pictorial Prayer - 08.25.2010

please pray for Jimmy.

Maybe you remember Jimmy from a pictorial prayer back in February when I asked you to pray him after he had an appendectomy… Last weekend Jimmy had emergency surgery for a bowel obstruction that resulted from complications from his last surgery.

praise that Jimmy came through his surgery and is recovering well. Jimmy is still in the hospital; please continue to pray that he will heal without complications this time. Please pray that God would provide for his medical expenses. Please pray he would be well enough to go back to school soon.

pews

I accidentally went on a short-term missions trip to Uganda this week.

I'm sensing confusion in the crowd, murmurings of "But I thought she lives in Uganda."

I do. Let me explain, it's a great story.

Count back exactly two weeks ago and I arrived in Columbus, Ohio, USA, to spend an extremely short but fantastically wonderful 7 days with my best friend of all time, her husband, and some friends.

My exotic tropical vacation to Ohio was soon over and I found myself in seat 13A at 6:15am starting off my 30+hour journey by flying from Columbus to Washington D.C.. I was just getting in my normally anti-social traveling groove -- window seat, ipod, book, avoidance of any unnecessary eye contact. I had my eyes closed doing some early-morning-world-traveling-I'm-leaving-the-USA-going-back-to-Africa thinking when my neighbor in 13C interrupted to ask me if I was okay. Though we hadn't even left the runway yet, I sensed slight apprehension in his question that I might upchuck and not have the lightening fast reflexes needed to grab the essential barf bag. I assured him everything was A-okay.

The conversation was officially started by then. He was pleasantly friendly (albeit a bit too awake for so early in the morning) and asked if I was from Columbus.

Uh-oh. This one is always a bit tricky to explain.

"No, I'm from California, but...I don't really live there right now."

"Oh. Where do you live?"

"Uganda."

I'm used to odd looks and statements of disbelief, but his was different - "Uh, I'm going to Uganda, too!"

Story goes my plane neighbor, Dave, is a pastor from Columbus, OH, on his way to Uganda with a group from his church to work in Gulu. We chatted more, shared stories, talked about Jesus, and found more connections - like how there is doctor on his team and how they are going to do a bunch of medical clinics during the trip.

To put things on fast-forward a bit, their team decided to "adopt" me en-route to Uganda (much to my initial stubbornly self-sufficient amusement). Somewhere in the middle of the timeless space of international air travel, I got to talk "medical stuff" with their doctor. They were scheduled to do several medical clinics with only one medical professional on the team so I mentioned the possibility of helping them out in Gulu. Who knows.

Back home in Kampala, I had a boxing match with some jet-lag, but kept having the nagging feeling that yes, I actually should go and meet up with these people (uh-oh, I've heard that still small voice before...). Weird. I'm usually such an introvert.

Somehow though, a five hour bus ride to see strangers of whom I didn't have the foggiest idea how to find once I got there didn't seem like too big of a stretch...in fact, it seemed to make sense. They are my family in Christ, they had a need....isn't that how it's supposed to work?

I won't launch into all the logistics of their team and trip details (read their blog! http://www.sportsoutreach.net/?page_id=433), but I joined them and we did several medical clinics in bush villages, saw hundreds of people. Amazing. Overwhelming. Exhausting and energizing. Crowded. Sweaty. Holy.

At some point during my time with the Ohio team I actually forgot that I wasn't really part of the team. In fact, I ended up spending just about every day of their whole first week in Uganda with them, inadvertently.

The point of this story is not really the details, but the big picture. The point of this story is that, for about 2 weeks straight, I felt like I was in the best church service ever.

What, you say? I thought church was all about uncomfortable pews, and long boring sermons and old-fashioned hymns? And I thought Christians were those people who go to those churches on Sundays, and sing those songs, but are really just hypocrites who hate gays and abortions?

I think this excerpt by Shane Claiborne from "The Irresistible Revolution" helps explain what I mean (bear with me, just finished this book, so I'll prob'ly quote it a lot):

A friend and I prepared a video clip once for a worship service. Our goal was to capture people's responses to the word Christian, so we took a video camera and hit the streets, from the trendy arts district to the suburbs. We asked people to say the first word that came to mind in response to each word we said: "snow," "eagles," "teenagers," "and finally "Christian." When people heard the word Christian they stopped in their tracks. I will never forget their responses: "fake," "hypocrites," "church," "boring." One guy even said, "used-to-be-one" (sort of one word). I will also never forget what they didn't say. Not one the people we asked that day said "love." No one said "grace." No one said "community."

I grew up going to church, but the words that describe my early memories of church would be "family," "sitting on floor," "laughter," and "loving." I went to a "church" that grew out of a whole bunch of college kids who met Jesus and started meeting together to figure out what exactly it meant to be a Christian. We met in homes, sat on couches and carpet, sang songs straight out of the Bible, and never had a pastor. It didn't matter that we didn't meet in a chapel or cathedral or temple because we were the church. Church = people, united together out of their love for God.

So when I said that I had the best 2 weeks of church, I meant it...

In Ohio my old friends and I ate food together, talked, laughed, played countless card games, took walks, and listened to music.

In Gulu, my new friends and I worked together, laughed, ate food, worked some more, laughed some more.

More than that I experienced this church in the eyes and smiles and thankfulness of the countless people in the villages we met.

Another quote from Shane Clairborne, explaining the meaning of namaste, a word he encountered while working with lepers in India:

"We really don't have a word like it in English (or even a Western conception of it). They explained to me that namaste means, "I honor the Holy One who lives in you." I knew I could see God in their eyes. Was it possible that I was becoming a Christian, that in my eyes they could catch a glimpse of the image of my Lover?"

So when I said that I had the best 2 weeks of church, I meant it...all of these people - new friends, old friends, and complete strangers - refreshed my soul as we lived and loved and laughed for Jesus and about Jesus, together.

"Perhaps we are just as likely to encounter God over the dinner table or in the slums or in the streets as in a giant auditorium." -- Shane Claiborne

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Quoted texts taken from "The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical" by Shane Claiborne

...and please do check out the Ohio team's blog: http://www.sportsoutreach.net/?page_id=433

...AND Sports Outreach, who led the trip (they're awesome!): http://www.sportsoutreach.net

...AND Silent Images, photographer/videographer team working with them (also amazingly awesome! You need to know about them!): http://www.silentimages.org/

pictorial prayer– 07.15.2010

(pictured above, the Ugandan flag flies at half-mast to honor those killed in the bomb attacks)

please pray for the country of Uganda and the capital city, Kampala, in particular. As you may have heard, last Sunday, July 11^th, twin bomb attacks killed 74 people in the city as they watched the World Cup final.

please pray for the people who have lost family and friends that they would find the peace and comfort only God can bring.

please pray for the people who were in those places and survived the bomb blasts that they would be able to overcome the physical and emotional trauma of seeing such an event.

please pray for Uganda’s President Museveni, that he would have wisdom and integrity as he leads his country through this difficult time.

please pray for the safety and peace of Kampala’s citizens. Since Sunday, numerous bombs have been found around the city, including elementary schools.

please pray for Uganda as it will be hosting the African Union Summit meeting in Kampala from July 19^th -27^th. Again, please pray for peace in the city as many heads of State and Government will be in Uganda during this time.

disambiguation

World Cup 2010, South Africa.

Okay, so I'm not a soccer aficionado, but it was pretty fun to be living in Africa while the World Cup was taking place on the same continent -- to feel the energy of each game, the anticipation of each elimination, and the pride of cheering for each African country as if you were one of the team. Having a TV qualified you to be a gathering place for passersby to join together in fraternity, whether you were at a car wash, a vegetable stand, or a sports bar. I don't have a TV, but when there were night games, cheers and shouts echoed through the neighborhood giving auditory clues to every save, miss, and goal.

Two nights ago, Spain trumped the Netherlands in the last game of the 2010 World Cup. Ugandans joined crowds around the world to watch and cheer for "their" team, but before the victor was named, three bombs exploded here in Kampala killing over 70 people - one in a Ethiopian restaurant and the other two in a rugby stadium about 2 miles from where I live.

"Six degrees of separation" is the idea that everyone is, at most, six steps away from any other person on Earth, so that any two people can be connected by "a friend of a friend" in six steps or fewer.

On the wall behind our kitchen table we have a large map of Africa. Almost every time I sit there to eat, I find myself studying the countries, cities, and flags. Today, as I looked at the expansive continent of Africa, three countries stood out - Uganda, South Africa, and Somalia. How radically odd that a world-uniting soccer game could be used as a convenient occasion for bloody violence marking political, religious, and military displeasure.

I'm not a great athlete, I usually lack the coordination to catch a ball thrown at me, and I rarely attend sporting events. But the language, action, and camaraderie of sports seems to be universal. Perhaps one of the reasons we, as cultures, peoples and nations love sports is that, no matter the particular event, there is resolution. A sermon I listened to recently talked about this: "[Sports] is the only section of the newspaper where the competition stops because someone actually won and the game's over. My whole life, I've been looking at the front page of the paper...and everyday I see - Israel and Palestine, still at it. The war never stops. Except on the sports page." Spain may have won the World Cup, but elsewhere, war still rages and lives are still lost.

Throughout history, war persists - between countries that don't share borders and within the borders of a single nation. This last Spring I visited Rwanda during the time that marked the anniversary of the country's genocide. I talked to survivors and read museum plaques that told how ordinary gardening tools were used as weapons for neighbors to kill neighbors and for family to betray one another. "The war never stops."

How am I supposed to think, to respond to this world and its endless tragedies and self-inflicted wounds? How am I supposed to speak comfort to my friend who lived through the bombing or to the man who lost his whole family in the genocide?

My only Hope is to make an introduction - "I know someone who, like you was beaten, tortured, and hated...His name is Jesus."

Isaiah 53:5: "He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed."

My Hope is to tell them, "This Jesus, He SEES. He sees all the hurt that has ever been done to you and the people you love. And He will be the righteous judge to any wrong ever done."

Isaiah 3:13-15: The LORD stands up to plead, and stands to judge the people. The LORD will enter into judgement with the elders of His people and His princes: 'For you have eaten up the vineyard; the plunder of the poor is in you houses. What do you mean by crushing my people and grinding the faces of the poor?' Says the LORD GOD of hosts."

My Hope is to tell them, "There is coming a day when there will be no more war. In fact, a day when weapons of destruction will be made into tools of cultivation and provision...a day when we won't even have the plans or instincts to fight one another."

Isaiah 2:4: "He will judge between the nations, and will settle disputes for many people. They will beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore."

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:6 -- This is the Jesus I follow, the God I love, my Hope for today and for the future.

** Quote taken from the sermon, "Walking in the Light of the Lord With Humble Hope," by Erik Thoennes, Grace EV Free Church, La Mirada, CA. URL: http://www.graceevfree.org/tools-for-growth/sermons/#series_isaiah-glory-to-the-righteous-one

pictorial prayer– 07.05.2010

please continue to pray for Kizito (second from the left) and his family. His older sister Winnie and younger brother Yusef also have sickle cell disease. Pray for good health for the children so they can attend school and for work for their parents so that they are able to provide the medical care and nutritious meals their children need.

praise, that I was able to spend some time with this family to help them understand this disease and its care better.

big praise, that God has provided a hematologist in the US who has agreed to be a resource for me in managing these children’s needs.

If you think this is a strange and not-very-good picture, take a second look and notice the kid wearing the red shirt on the far right…that active kid is Frank (the boy with the kidney problem), who you prayed for back in April.

His health is doing well! His mother is very happy because Frank is now playing outside with other kids and feels well enough to play soccer – big praise!

indelible

I’ve been thoroughly neglectful. Two months since my last “real” blog? Geesh. Armed with new inspiration, we’ll set out with high hopes tempered by realistic expectations.

Sharpie markers and Ziploc bags.

Ziplocs.

I’ve been living in Uganda for 9ish months now and the other day I realized I’m still living out of Ziploc bags. Yes, rather sheepishly, I admit that large plastic, satisfyingly zipper-able bags are still home to my socks, underwear, scarves, hats, etc. It made me feel nostalgically rootless, transient.

A person who is home has his spaces; her places where things belong. I call Uganda my home right now, but little reminders like these make me feel the pull of a different home. Is it the US I’m missing? Possibly, but even there, while the memories of home, family and comfort are strong, I no longer have a place called mine. Still…this want to no longer be in transition, to be settled, to be home.

C.S. Lewis talks of “spiritual homesickness” in his sermon “The Weight of Glory:”

“Our commonest expedient is to call it beauty and behave as if that had settled the matter. Wordworth’s expedient was to identify it with certain moments in his own past. But all this is a cheat. If Wordsworth had gone back to those moments in the past, he would not have found the thing itself, but only the reminder of it; what he remembered would turn out to be itself a remembering. The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing. These things – the beauty, the memory of our own past – are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself…Now we wake to find…[w]e have been mere spectators. Beauty has smiled, but not to welcome us; her face was turned in our direction, but not to see us. We have not been accepted, welcomed, or taken in…

Our life-long nostalgia, our longing to be reunited with something in the universe from which we feel cut off, to be on the inside of some door which we have always seen from the outside is no mere neurotic fancy, but the truest index of our real situation.”

Last week I visited a family of one of our Hope Alive! kids, one of our smaller girls, still in grade school. We sat and talked with her mother, “Mama Gloria,” inside their shanty one-room house. Mama Gloria is a single mother of two children and she lives in a rented house with her family. The barrack-like buildings in her neighborhood all look the same – run-down cement block-housing divided into one-room residences that were built in the 1940’s by the British. Now, the Ugandan government has sent out an eviction notice to the thousands of people living in this area – they must be out in 6 months, uncompensated. An up-scale housing project is planned for the place Mama Gloria currently calls home.

Mama Gloria’s English is excellent and her speech is very succinct. Her determination to care for her family is fierce. She has tried, in the past, to complete catering school, she took a tailoring course, and she is currently enrolled in a nursing research course. Each the time money runs out before completion. She is currently jobless but gets odd jobs, like doing laundry for a nearby school, to provide food for her family. While we talk she makes a medicinal herbal tea for one of her children because she can’t afford medicine from the pharmacy. She smiles and seems to come alive though when she tells us about her love for singing and her long history of singing in the church choir. She glows with pride as she tells us that her children follow in her musical footsteps – her daughter loves to sing and her son is talented at the drums.

When we ask to pray for her, her request is simple: that God would help them find a place since they are being “chased” from their home.

This ache for permanence resonates in so many stories I hear about Africa and its people. Last night I watched a documentary film called “War Dance,” which chronicles the heartbreaking stories of several children of the Northern Uganda Acholi tribe, which was painfully displaced by rebel war in their own country. Their hurt is layered so deep I cannot understand it. As one young teen-aged girl in the film told her story, her words about home grabbed me – she was homesick for the time when her village homeland was beautiful, when her family was still alive and lived in normalcy.

I’ve watched many documentaries before, but it was so different to see these stark images and hear these shattered stories because now I live in their country and their people are my friends. The film was made only 5 years ago and at that time thousands of people lived in crowded huts of IDP (Internally Displaced Person) camps – a space which traditionally would be the land for just 5 families. A couple of the children in the film had the chance to visit the places that used to be home; but their visit was only met with grief because their once happy past had been torn in a way that would not be mended.

We all feel this, I think, probably much less tragically than these smallest victims of war, but it’s common to humanity – this longing for what cannot be again, your once-upon-a-time home…..Because in the time you were away you changed, and home can never be the same again because you are not the same.

But it continues to disturb us, nag at us, sometimes even rage…this longing for permanence.

Sharpies.

I love writing with sharpie markers. There is something so satisfying about making a bold mark that can’t be erased. It’s like saying, “There! Try to forget that now!” There is nothing shy or dithering about a sharpie marker.

So within me is this undeniable purposeful longing for home matched with a seeming impossibility that I will ever find that essence I seek. As if I’m marked and made for it.

"Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, not like the covenant that I made with their fathers on the day when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, my covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, declares the LORD. But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, 'Know the LORD, for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more." Jeremiah 31:31-34

“Can a woman forget her nursing child, and not have compassion on the son of her womb? Surely they may forget, yet I will not forget you. See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.” Isaiah 49:16

“For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put My laws in their mind and write them on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be My people.” Hebrews 8:10

“All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” Hebrews 11:13-17

Indelibly, ineradicably, enduringly marked on my heart by my Creator for a home to come. A seal so permanent that I would never be able to erase it, to pencil-in an earthly address. So as I desperately try to fill this vacancy with people, experiences, things, and emotions, it will never satisfy as home and is just about as sustainable as living permanently out of Ziploc bags.

"This constant struggle, The pulling, pushing, paining, longing; For a homeland that will comfort, For a body that will run, For arms that will faithfully hold, me, my heart, its desires and fearful tears.

This struggle you entered, The fray of human life, pushed, pulled To the breaking of a thread. For a homeland you promised, For a body reclaimed, For arms covenanted to redeem, You, Your heart, finished my emptiness, Wiped away my last battle."

Link to the film "War Dance" on iTunes:

http://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewMovie?id=279374554&s=143441

pictorial prayer– 06.24.2010

The picture on the right is of normal red blood cells; on the left, a picture of a red blood cell from a patient with sickle cell disease.

Sickle cell anemia is an inherited form of anemia — a condition in which there aren't enough healthy red blood cells to carry adequate oxygen throughout the body.

Normally, your red blood cells are flexible and round, moving easily through your blood vessels. In sickle cell anemia, the red blood cells become rigid, sticky and are shaped like sickles or crescent moons. These irregularly shaped cells can get stuck in small blood vessels, which can slow or block blood flow and oxygen to parts of the body.

So, why the science lesson?

I’d like to ask for your prayers for Kizito, one of our Hope Alive! kids who lives in Masaka and has sickle cell anemia. Three children in Kizito’s family have the disease. The last time Kizito’s mother took him to the clinic when he was ill, the doctor told her she could never make it raising three children with sickle cell because it is too expensive.

please pray for Kizito and his family. This weekend I have the opportunity to spend some time with them to do some basic education on the disease and how they can best live with and care for it on a daily basis.

pictorial prayer– 06.01.2010

please pray for the month of June! It’s going to be a busy and fun time; I have two wonderful friends coming visit. I went to nursing school with both Emily and Krista, so even though they are coming for a visit, I’m putting them to work! We will be working on completing health assessments/physical exams in our up-country Hope Alive! sites – with Emily in Gulu and with Krista in Masaka.

please pray for these ladies as they travel to Uganda, as we do a lot of traveling during the time they are here, and as we have a refreshing time of catching up!

pictorial Prayer– 05.18.2010

please pray for a new venture that has opened up in my life – language study!The picture above is an Ethnolinguistic map of Uganda; there are an estimated 40-45 languages present in this country, even though English is it’s official language. I will be taking about 5 hours a week to study Luganda, a major language spoken in Kampala and Southern Uganda. Pray that this will be time well-invested and that it will open new ways and opportunities of connecting with people here.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ganda_language

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Languages_of_Uganda

Pictorial Prayer...and Praise – 05.10.2010

big PRAISE! Three of our older students were given admission to nursing school. They went through a very competitive process to be enrolled in a 2-year comprehensive nursing program.

please pray for Raymond (above, facing the camera). He is from Gulu (Northern Uganda). He has been on Hope Alive's student leadership team and is so excited to begin nursing school.

please pray for Noelle (above, on the left). She is from Kampala. Please pray that as she makes this transition God would provide her with strong Christian friends and mentors.

please pray for Alfred (above). He is from Kampala and has been invaluable an student leader and help for the Hope Alive! staff

These 3 will begin their program this June 14th.

please pray as I also feel God leading me to mentor these nursing students. As you can see from these pictures, they recently helped me with health screenings for some of our Hope Alive! students. They were so excited to learn how to do things like perform visual acuity exams, take pulse rates, blood pressures, and temperatures! It is my hope to meet with them monthly; we greatly want them to not only become excellent nurses, but also nurses who see the importance and value of spiritual care for their patients. I am excited to how God may use this opportunity!

Pictorial Prayer - May 1st, 2010

This week, I want to ask you for your continued prayers for Frank.

Too often, as missionaries we ask for your prayers, then forget to tell you the results. It is my prayer that through your prayers you will become part of the story that is happening in lives here in Uganda.

I again had the opportunity to visit with Frank and his mother (pictured above) in Masaka this last week. He seems to be doing well with the changes we are making to manage his problem. He will be traveling back to Kampala next week for more follow-up tests.

please pray for continued improvement in those kidneys! Also, please pray that we would be able to establish a good working relationship with the Ugandan nephrologist we are seeing; this can be difficult as physicians here often just want a position of power over their patients. Pray that I would be able to be wise and strong in my advocacy for Frank and all the other Hope Alive! children.