The act of giving thanks

 I realized that I often write and bear my soul when I've walked through a grievous, heart wrenching or soul seeking experience.  Those are my moments when God pushes, provokes even me into writing until I sit and pound at these keys until something is birthed out of what is swarming around me or churning inside my soul.  Today is not one of those days.  Instead I want to share a few peak moments from our week here in Uganda.  I'm going to try to do this more at times, so you can have eyes into our regular life.  This is also a gracious grace to my heart as I look ahead to the next week.  Sometimes I can think there is too much mundane, too many trips with a child to the potty for my life to be exciting.  But as I look through these moments and remember, I am made full again by the act of Eucharisteo. The act of giving thanks.

This was last Sunday! Our New Hope Thanksgiving, where we take time to celebrate what our Tata (Daddy) God has done through this past year. It was glorious! This is us with Samuel family and some of its associates. Our kids made it through a 4.5 hr day of church!  Lunch was at 3 pm, and boy did we enjoy it!

We do a thanksgiving "march" with all of New Hope before entering church.

 

Sometimes a little girl just needs a few creative moments with her mama. And even boy #1 joined in and strung himself a necklace! 

This picture represents how life here is not always that simple.  When we travel into Kampala, it is a 1.5 hr hour drive in with traffic usually waiting us on the other end.  It can easily be 2.5 hrs in the car before reaching the grocery store.  The roads are long and gorgeous, with no Starbucks or Dunkin' Donuts on the way. Back in the gluten filled days, we would grab a chapati on our way through Kiwoko, but those days are long gone. Instead I usually bake something like this in order to have breakfast on the road.

Yes, that is a bird in his container next to him.  This week he found a delicate baby bird, sitting in the stroller.  Of course, Isaiah made him feel at home in our home. :)

This does not really need any comments, but this is for cute factor.  I love his hair after a bath!

This week was our mini-Envisioning, so Keith and I were gone in sessions two days this week.  One afternoon I came home to 5 stir-crazy kids wanting a water fight. So they got it! I enjoyed sitting with a cup of coffee, savoring their energy and excitement. 

Get ready for this one!

These are the flying ants of Uganda! They are literally a local delicacy. It's cracked me up to see how excited Isaiah and Elliana have been to eat them again! Zae collected this all on his own and put them in the frying pan. Most people eat them raw and squirming, but some like my kids saute and salt them!

I let him do it himself. Ewwww...those ants were doing a crazy dance when we turned on the burner!!!

Loving their snack!!! Even Malakai enjoyed his ants!

Last month, we had hundreds of mangos falling off our trees. Keith did most of the cutting and froze them for the day I'd be able to make something out of them. 

My sister-in-law gave me an old fashioned apple sauce maker, which turns out some mean mango butter!!! Thanks Angie!!!

Mango butter, in all its glory. Does it not just make your mouth water?! I made a batch with cinnamon too, for some added dimension. 

Just one week, so many special moments in which we can lift our hands and say "How great is OUR God!"  Thank you Daddy for these moments, clothed in simple grace. Eucharisto.  Once again my heart is changed by giving thanks. 

Hoping for Heaven

Over the years I've been to many funerals and burials.  In fact, I believe I attended 21 funerals by the time I was 22 years old.  Then we moved to Uganda.  Death here is not foreign. In fact, it seems as common as paying one's school fees.  It is an unwelcome visitor that comes knocking on the young and the old, unbiased by age, status, or prestige. Today was one of those days where we sipped the bitter gall of a life now gone, hoping for Heaven. 

This morning Betty came knocking before 7 AM, bearing the news of a double death.  We lost one of our past 'daughter's' and former Childcare and Family Institute employee. She was one of those young ladies who's smile and deep round eyes bring joy to my mind as I think of her.  She was quiet, gentle, and loving.  She left New Hope a few years back, with her womb full of her first born son and her heart seeking love in places gone wrong.  Four years later, her second born, a daughter, died within her.  It seems from what I understand, toxemia took her life along with the baby.  

In these moments of culture and burying people, true lineage is most important. In this case, the body of the mother went west to be buried with her family, and the baby was brought out here to rest in the ground near the home of the father's family. It seems so odd to my western mind -mother and baby, both two in one flesh just yesterday, torn apart and buried nowhere near one another today.  So with this in mind, we knew we were going to the burial of this precious nameless baby girl.

After a quick lunch and in the heat of the day, I gathered my little Malakai into my arms and carefully strapped him to me with my sling. I cautiously climbed sidesaddle onto Keith's boda-boda (moterbike), tucked my skirt around me, and held on to Kai's head while we bumped along the dusty path until we reached Mama Jane's house.  Mama Jane is our friend and employee at the Institute- she is the mother of the "husband" and grandmother to the baby. 

All was quiet around the simple brick house, as the body had not yet arrived from Kampala. I removed my shoes and stepped into the silent house, carefully whispering greetings to the women seated on the floor and in the few chairs around the home.  Mama Jane stepped out to greet me, holding on to me like only a mother would for more then the brief moment or two a normal hug allows. Malakai squirmed within the sling, but he was gracious enough to give us this time.

Within a few moments, the baby's body arrived. I had stepped out of the house to greet newcomers, then returned to where a group of woman were dressing the body.  As I peered into the casket, the baby's tiny face appeared. Resting peacefully in the arms of Another.

Mama Jane and another older Jaja (grandmother) carefully dressed the babe, putting her into a sleeper with snaps down the front. Dressing her like they'd dressed their own babies now grown. 

Blanket after blanket were handed to them by the three women next to me, until she was carefully swaddled like every newborn I've ever held.  Hearing sniffles next to me, I looked at the three blanket bearing women.  All three of them are close to my age, in the prime of bearing children and holding them on their hips. All three have wrapped a baby and buried him or her deep down in the dirt. Given back to the One who gives. I hugged Malakai's sweet blonde curls close to my neck, savoring his life, his breath.  My mind wandered to his little form, His life bound to my side pricked my heart. God's gift. Malakai -God's messenger. All these babies are God's gift. I won't let the world tell me otherwise.

We all shuffled out to the garden, where weeds and plants had been hacked away for our feet to trample next to the small hole that had been dug in the rusty African soil. Familiar Jesus-loving songs were sung as we listened to God's name being lifted up while tears tugged at our eyes and our hearts.  Such heartache and tragedy to partake in.  It's too much at times to understand the loss, the grief, the pain of death. This world is tainted, groaning for it's redemption.  It's only in the future glory we can hope and cling to without disappointment. 

I read through this writing by Charles Morris (via Ann Voskamp) this afternoon while processing all of this. I cannot say it any better: 

   "To see His face, to have His hand wipe away every one of those tears we still weep, to be remade in Him, to enter into His joy—that’s our hope.

      And it’s more than just our own personal hope; it’s the hope of the entire world. It’s more than knowing we’ll go to heaven when we die; it’s knowing the day of the Lord is coming when Jesus will remake the cosmos."

Until then, we wait.  Not as those without hope, but with a hope that cries "Maranatha!" Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Family Update

Written by my favorite guest writer, Keith McFaland

  If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Lk. 14:26

                The call of the Gospel comes to each one of us in different ways and in different circumstances, yet it always comes powerfully with the same foundational calling- die to yourself, count the cost, lay down your life and follow. Our Lord’s words have hit us in our complacency over and over again on our journey of faith, revealing our comfortable self-seeking hearts, while gently drawing us back to the place of surrender, even of those things that we hold dearest.

                When we left the States ten years ago with our ten month old, ten bags, and anxious hearts, we felt deeply the rending from family and cultural familiarity. I remember Laura Beth crying as we sat on the airplane as she thought about her Mom missing out on Elisha’s growing up. She shed tears because she couldn’t even say ‘I’m sorry’ for taking away the joy of a grandparent watching their grandkids grow up. The rending we felt was painful, yet the joy of surrender and following Jesus was before us.

                Over the years we have had the privilege of growing into two families, one on each side of the world, as we have experienced the reality of God’s Kingdom, where we are adopted into this beautiful cross-cultural, multi-ethnic bride, and given the gift of Family. When we left Uganda a year ago to return to the States, we felt the rending from family on this side of the world more powerfully than ever before. It was genuinely difficult to return to the States for the year, a testimony to God’s grace in our lives and the depth of relationships that He has gifted us with here.  We both found ourselves saying “I’m so glad we’re not leaving permanently”.

                Now, after a year in the States, incredible time with both of our families, the birth of a new niece, the wedding of a precious sister, weekly taco night with cousins, the healing touch of the life-giving community at our church, we sat on the airplane with that ol’ so familiar feeling of rending. But this time, as we count the cost, we know the beauty of the gain that accompanies it. We are looking forward to what our Father has for us in this season that He has us planted here in Uganda. Will you pray with us as we settle back into life here? Pray that our Father would give us clear leading and direction- that we would be a blessing to the family here, as we labor to live the Gospel and bring God’s Fatherhood to the fatherless and to the families of Uganda.

                After probably the best flying experience we’ve had as a family (which of you were praying for God’s grace and covering as we traveled?), we arrived safely in Uganda and back in Kasana almost two weeks ago. We have settled in well, even as we had the joy of hosting a team from Alpine Church in Utah. It was a great week with them, even as we were upside-down trying to adjust and unpack. It was fun to be back with the children of Samuel Family, and of course a Saturday of fun, games, and a pig roast was just what we needed to feel back at home!

                Finally, for those of you who have been praying for Laura’s little cousin Gabriel, thank you. If you have not seen the updates on Face Book, here’s the situation in a nut shell.  After seeing his life nearly slip away, God has graciously in his mercy been healing him day by day.  He’s completed his first round of chemotherapy and has been responding very positively. Please be praying for God’s grace to him and his family.  He has a long road ahead of him. If you wish to follow their updates or give to them financially, here’s their blog via Caring Bridge: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/gabrielfleming/journal/view/id/53a9d70cab28b96517bd8bdb.

Transition

The cicadas sing their familiar melancholic tune, stirring my emotions and thoughts with their every note.  What has just happened? I find myself sitting on a dusty and faded old couch on my cracking veranda, sipping strong African coffee with my homemade half-n-half. My aging Ridgeback just sauntered past, moving at a slower pace then years gone by.  Ugandan sounds, songs and smells meet my every sense, telling me, reminding me, that I've leapt across the globe in less then 24 hrs, back to my home of the last decade.

The kids are so alive here, including Kai. His cheesy grins and ultra-light spirit in the day hours were only shadowed by a few days of interrupted sleep.  The boys are climbing, running, playing hard 'til sweat pours from their brows and laughter cracks their lips. Elliana has a renewed love for babies, growing seeds in the dusty soil, and climbing trees. I think the third could stay dead, honestly. :)

Where is my heart in all the mix? Delighted, peaceful, tired, and confused.  In a mere day, we left a year long home assignment to return to life in Uganda. I've been struck again with how life here just takes more time.  This is simply a reality.  There are so many "luxuries" in the US that eliminate extra work, something I forget until back in the throws of daily life. A short list includes things like power (when I want/need it), clean water from all taps/sinks (at least clean enough that parasites are not a concern), hot water for washing dishes/my face/shaving/dirty children, internet access when I want it and fast enough to do what I want with it, a nearby supermarket to pick up forgotten shaving cream, a washing machine for a baby blanket gone sour, etc. etc. etc.  I won't even mention things like triple washed spinach, and new bags of rice that rarely EVER carry rocks and bugs..

But, lest these quiet moments among the dusty cushions focus only on the losses, there are many great gains I am delighted to experience. Like relationships and faces we've missed for more the 365 long days. Our children, fully alive.  Clinging to Him alone in our sadness and frustrations. African worship. African sunsets. Being where relationship is far more important then getting the job done. Big chubby brown babies that smile into my heart.  Uncle Jonnes. Seeing myself and my children get so caught up in being outside that media is an after-thought.  My husband, up at 4:30 today, has already lived the day forwards and backwards by the time I wake.  He's seeing through new eyes this morning (as the jet lag releases the fog on his brain). He is also fully alive. Excited. Expectant. Do the gains far outweigh the losses? Yes, undoubtedly.

A good friend handed this verse to me before we left and I've found myself meditating on it amid the chasm of sadness I have felt in all the good-byes to both of our families:

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. Eph 3:20-21

God is with us.  Emmanuel. I know He has more in store for us then we can imagine.
I choose to begin this next term with expectation. In Eucharisteo. With joy.

What did God assure my heart that this was the year of?
                Shalom. 

Cling to the Rock, Laura Beth, walk in the Spirit where you with find life and peace. 
In the midst of the world-change, we continue to choose to trust him with our hearts and our lives, no matter the loss.  He counts the cost and knows.  Selah.

The clock ticks.

My mind whirls.

The lists grow inside my head, then are forgotten once I find paper and pen.

Too many tasks...too many piles of clothes.

The walls glisten with new paint and the shelves are no longer full.  My temporary-now-home will once again become someone else's place to lay their head. Packing a family of seven and heaven knows how many suitcases is a dubious job that I sometimes wish was not my role. It's in these moments that I dream of the day when I won't have to figure out 2 1/2 years of clothing and schooling for my children and determine what is and isn't important enough to carry to Uganda.

This walk through 'the Matrix' of good-byes and hellos, exiting and re-entering culture, is like a steady thumping in my head. How? Will we manage yet again?  Will it take me six months to re-adjust to our home overseas where I'm left thinking about how my every word and action is perceived? Yes, I will once again be a western woman in an African world.

Will I really be back home again?  With sweet bird songs to wake me and African sunsets to warm my back? To hug my dear people who call me "Auntie" and "Mama Elisha".  Yes, it is soon. Gracious is our God to allow us the privilege to call Uganda home and make her people ours. Soon I'll be eating g-nuts and matokee, wearing skirts, singing in Luganda, riding moterbikes side saddle, running in "the bush", and enjoying the land where relationship is more important than getting the job done.

My eyes fill with tears as I try not to think ahead of the good byes that are looming, waiting. We are not strangers to these partings. Twelve years of life as a missionary breaks little chunks off of my heart with each parting hug for the umpteenth time. The wonder of when we'll kiss little ones cheeks again or hug old necks? To miss so many seasons and changes in these dear lives. These pits in our stomachs fade with time, then return with another good-bye. Oh the longing for Heaven, when we will no longer wonder if a funeral will bring us back together again. When we will behold Jesus, surrounded by those who we love, never whispering "I'll miss you" again.

It is too much for these earthly beings...BUT God. He is good.  In these moments where I feel everything pressing in, He takes my hand and leads me. My heart is turned and is expectant. He fills in the gaps and points my eyes to Him! He reminds me this is not about me and my comfort. It isn't about piles of clothes, paint cans, or another list.  It's about living for something greater then myself.

The moments whirl. My heart soars. My mind remembers. Oh yes, I'm going home.

I've come to grips with the fact that life is full of hum-drums and emotional lows, work and more work. At this moment, the laundry folding is about the height of my 4 year old, the floor needs mopped again, the rooms need sorted out for guests and my eyelids tell me I've been up since the wee hours. Aye-yai-yai. It's never ending.  But in this never ending cycle of work, there are gifts that I'm taking the time to be thankful for. And in this moment, I give thanks to The Giver. Here are a few gifts my heart celebrates today (ok, it might be more then a few).

All that hard work, paid off in little moments like this. Precious, aren't they? Each one. Elisha, straight shooter of truth. Noah, tender boy-man. Isaiah, joyous energy. Elliana, feminine little mama. Malakai, energetic and animated. Best. Gifts. Ever.  I never want to regret these seasons or labors of love. It's worth it folks. Don't let the world tell you otherwise.

Little Mama loves her little bro

Marriage. Almost 13 years. It's a gift that I sometimes take for granted. I forget to breathe prayers of thanks for the unity and intimacy we have in our relationship. For the few arguments. For the groundwork we laid in the early years. Learned lessons of lifestyle repentance that continue to bring forth a harvest of shalom.  I adore this man.

A couch-full of Ugandan missionary kids. We love our friends and partners, the Vogt's. Thankful for their lives, the word of His testimony in them, and the opportunity to "do life" on both sides of the globe, even when Isaiah falls out of a tree and breaks his collar-bone.

Kai-guy's little snuggles.

Boy-man #1 still snuggles too. ;)

Blessed by extended-Florida-family with a day at Disney World!

Sunrise on the beach with precious Aunt Audree (one of my heroes)- though her eyes are failing her, she sees things more clearly than most.

Pictures don't even do this justice!

Yes, they got in, even in the early morning hours. It was a moment that will be forever etched into my memory.

Ok, I'll stop with the beach pics there. They're just too precious.

Ellie and her cousin, Ruby. In Uganda, cousins are called cousin-brother or cousin-sister.  I love that. This is one of those sweet bonds, forged in love.

                    Easter Egg fun -thankful for family to make it a special time of the year!

Celebrating Laura (Renfro) Barr and her journey into motherhood. She's a mama of 2 now. I love this woman of God and where God's taken her! She went through the Institute in 2007. What a gift.

This baby man #4 made his 1 year mark.  He is such a delight to our entire family, bringing us joy and delight with each passing day.  We can't imagine life without you, little buddy. Thank you Jesus.

They don't come much cuter

He knows how this goes

Thankful. Overflowing with thanks. This is where my heart is at the end of this reflection. It's powerful how the act of giving thanks actually fills us with joy and appreciation for all He has surrounded us with.  Eucharisteo truly precedes the miracle.

A New Year

I've finally been able to embrace something about myself. I'm more of a small picture person. What's happening today and this week? Beyond that, it's hard for my brain to plan too far ahead. I need to be here, now, doing the now, or I get overwhelmed, frustrated, and even anxious and fearful. Those who know me well know that I often work best under pressure. In the moment, I'll figure it out, create, and make something beautiful (hopefully) in the process. Does that mean I always fly by the seat of my britches? No. I do plan. But what it does mean is that I love to embrace the moments I am in, whether that is cooking, cutting hair, or forgoing my exercise to stop at a friends house for a cup of coffee. But on the downside, it means I don't always remember to dream and look up from the present moment.

This is the beauty of a new year. It is a fresh breath of air into my body, my being, that is God ordained. He knew I needed a new year every 365 days in order to regroup and refocus.

At the beginning of each year, I ask God what His word is for me this year. Sometimes it's a scary request. Especially the year I heard the word "Surrender". After I made it through that year, my Dad prayed over us and prayed we'd learn "more surrender". He had no idea I had just spent the last year learning the difficult task of opening my hands. I about had a melt down. Really? More surrender? But to my surprise more surrender wasn't excruciating. It was beautiful. It even meant baby #5. Our Malakai -'God's Messenger". 

With that said, I was looking forward to another new beginning after the last 6 months stateside. This season has been so life-giving for us.  Health and life have filled our beings, and we are very encouraged.  I do not feel the bone-weary sensations that come from ministry wounds or pressure that I had grown accustom to feeling, or the frustrations that come with culture and community.  I have new breath in my chest, and new joy in my heart.

So, I asked again. And this little word is mine for 2014. 

Shalom

 As I've dug around a bit into the meaning of shalom, my heart grows excited about this year.  Here's a simple definition: Shalom (שָׁלוֹם) is a Hebrew word meaning peace, completeness, prosperity, and welfare and can be used idiomatically to mean both hello and goodbye.  

I love how Strong's Concordance brings in 'absence of discord' into the definition. Boy, this missionary mama could use that this year!  The presence of peace and completeness are longings of my heart, but they are only satisfied by His shalom. Jesus is shalom, and only He, through His Spirit, can grant it to a person.

The year is before me, so I choose to lift my eyes up off of the present and gaze at the cross. The place of perfect peace.

                                                          

                                                       Shalom!