Celebratory and Sober: paradoxical next steps

 In 48 hours, we expect to be aboard a jet lifting into the air above the Loudoun countryside where I grew up, headed back to the home that has now become our most long-term dwelling in life, Bundibugyo, Uganda.

Like all transitions, this one comes with sober celebrations, if those two paradoxical words can both be true. This week has been sobering at every turn. Ukraine first and foremost, hundreds of innocent civilians dead, children with disabilities stuck in the crossfire, over a million of those who could run displaced indefinitely, a raw reminder of the way power can be wielded for evil and greed. All while other conflicts smoulder on in Africa off-camera and out of mind as well. Meanwhile the background broken world keeps scratching us with its sharp edges. One of our two loyal dogs waiting for us in Uganda bravely battled a cobra on our porch just before we were to return, and though Bwindi managed to kill the snake, she did not survive the venomous bite. All creation groans, per Romans 8, and that is certainly true for Bwindi and for us. Loss of our beloved dog (a birthday gift to Scott two years ago) the very week we return, as other Serge friends lost theirs to illness this week too as they prepared to leave, well it just felt like a lot of grief. Our rental car to get to the airport was canceled yesterday, and our COVID testing appointment today got canceled at the last minute due to a printer malfunction, both issues adding hours of work-arounds in a week that did not seem to have spare hours. And none of that even touches the truly sobering issues of our hearts: leaving our kids and moms on this continent, returning to a place that is hard to reach and 8-11 hours off their time zones, making ourselves unavailable to their lives. 

And yet we celebrate, anyway, like the Apostle Paul writing in Phil 4:4, not because everything is neatly ordered according to our will and definitely not because everything is so much enviable fun. We celebrate the deeper truths that undergird us, available in glimpses if we pay attention. Actually in this case, pretty glaringly obvious: the mercy of God that I (Jennifer) am alive, and miraculously far enough along the long road of healing to start working. We celebrate the kindness of so many who prayed, loved, wrote, called, visited, gave, cared, the community that held us up when we had nothing to give, and now enables us to keep going. We celebrate the daffodils peaking out another year as winter recedes, the two new families approved to join Serge in East and Central Africa today, the visit of the Johnson kids back to Bundibugyo a decade after unexpectedly leaving when their dad got cancer, the record enrolment at Christ School after Uganda's COVID shut down became the longest in the world, new businesses and water projects and residency programs and creative work. We celebrate the reminders that love is stronger than death. That the resurrection reverses all the powers of evil.

Thanks to all who read this blog and have prayed and hoped to see this return, to all those we left in Uganda, Kenya, Congo, Burundi, Rwanda and Malawi whom we long to see and hold in our hearts. And please keep reading and praying with us. We've been limping along with our own unique mistakes and inadequacies for almost 29 years now, at times causing disappointment while trying to instill hope. This time on return we really feel the reality of our limits. I'm so much better, but I'm still impaired in energy, balance, vision, memory, speed. The docs at WVU cleared me to practice medicine but I know I need more rest, a healthy pace, and saying no. The return to work will put more pressure on Scott's already full plate. We go back with a God who can do beyond what we ask or imagine, and this time we see more clearly than ever how much we must lean into that. Even the numerous sobering setbacks of this week reinforce the truth: life is heavy and sober, and yet full of reasons to celebrate. 

So celebrate with us the upcoming trip, and stay soberly with us in prayer. Next message, D.V., from Uganda!

(Scott's going to miss the snow...)