Mid-week pause to breathe and pray: IRON SOUL NEEDED!

It is Thursday, which I suppose is a bit past mid-week, but since the event-of-the-year (for us) is planned for Monday the week seems to stretch ahead until then. For the first time in days I’m at my desk, and with so many things to do it seemed wise to start with gathering prayer. So here is a posting of a prayer request email, for any readers who would be willing to pray. Thanks. Let my cry come right into your presence, GOD; Provide me with the insight that comes only from your Word. Give my request your personal attention, Rescue me on the terms of your promise. Let praise cascade off my lips; After all, you’ve taught me the truth about life! Invigorate my soul so I can praise you well, Use your decrees to put iron in my soul. Psalm 119:169ff (last section, tau), The Message Dear Praying Friends, I rarely get to the end of Psalm 119, its length is rather intimidating. But this week these verses jumped off the page for me. I need iron in my soul! My tired heart needs invigorating in order to praise! Please pray these verses for us, and for yourselves, with the same attitude of desperation and aggressive expectation that the psalmist uses. Because the last few weeks have been a weary struggle, and we are far from the rest time of late August! Pray for souls of iron.

1. PRAY for the dedication of the Paediatric/Maternity Ward on Monday. The American Ambassador, some Ugandan members of parliament, our district leadership, health center staff, choirs, drama groups, and probably a couple of hundred people from the general public, will all gather for this event. It is an opportunity to give testimony to God’s faithfulness and care, and to appeal to the government for justice and mercy in the health system. Pray that Scott would speak clearly and in a way that glorifies God. You can also pray for SUN (we’ve heard it still exists but haven’t seen it all week, so the place is a sopping muddy mess) to dry the airstrip, for enough food to go around, and for the general delicate dance of empowering the health center staff to take charge of the party yet being on top of details enough that we feel WHM is well represented by the outcome.
2. PRAY for Christ School: peace, reconciliation, maturity. Today is the first day of normal class after the two-week process of closing, meeting with the board, investigating, interrogating, testifying, meetings with parents, etc. In the end 8 students were dismissed as instigators of violence and instability; one suspended temporarily; and the rest are back in class. I sat through 2 1/2 of the 4 day-long meetings with parents. There was a lot of sadness for me as the problems were described again and again, and some encouragement as parents thanked Kevin and the board for averting disaster. The students were roundly chastised by all, so there may be some sense in which the events increased community support for the staff and administration, and showed students that their demands and threats will not achieve their goals. But pray now for real growth, real maturity, on all sides, for a sense of unity between teachers and students, rather than being enemies. In the last meeting a young man who is now in university lamented the lack of parenting in the culture as a root of the problems (amusingly his example of good parenting was describing Scott taking to task a speeding motorcycle driver who endangered our kids as they rode up the road together on bicycles, because he was a father who was with his kids, aware of the dangers, and willing to step in!). Pray for wisdom as the Pierces and Bartkoviches in particular ponder discipling staff to be real leaders, able to discipline in love, able to exercise authority without damaging displays of power. Pray for all the staff and team who interact with students in class and cell groups, to encourage their hearts in godly directions. And praise God with us that the school could re-open, and that none of my children’s good friends had to leave, which would have been devastatingly difficult for us and them.
3. PRAY for our TEAM to be gracious and invigorated souls as we move through a challenging summer. With nearly 40 people to care for and be aware of . . . Scott and I need some of that soul iron just to love and lead our team. We have five great interns and you can join us in praying that their final few weeks will open their eyes to God’s character in new ways, and confirm any call He may have upon their futures. Pat Abbott returns from her six month HMA later today (YEAHHH!!!!). Last week we were visited by a team of 21 Americans on a mission trip through another church; plus a group from SIL launching the book of Acts newly translated into Lubwisi. Next week we have another student group from the US Naval Academy (Pierce’s connection) visiting for a couple of days. Others have had family and friend visitors. In a place where transportation and food and basic necessities of life require hours of planning and effort, the visits do take a toll. On the other hand we are thankful for the blessings these people are bringing to us and others and thankful to be able to facilitate. But you can pray for stamina. All of this activity also comes in the context of transition for our team as the Massos pursue leading a new team into Sudan about 18 months from now. Pray that we would have faith to wait upon the Lord as things around us change.
4. PRAY for PROVISION of food for children who are sick and hungry. Since World Food Program pulled out of Bundibugyo, thanks to Karen, Pamela, and Stephanie’s efforts and many of your responses we’ve managed to continue to provide nutritional supplements to the neediest: babies whose mothers have died, children infected with HIV, families with few resources who just can’t manage to get enough calories. However this week two significant things happened to make us pretty desperate on this front: UNICEF officially rejected a funding request that had been in their hands for many months, and we used the last of our current resources. Stephanie is frantically working on another proposal for The Stewardship Foundation, but that is far from certain. It costs our mission about 30 thousand dollars/year to buy peanut paste, milk, oil, and sugar for high-calorie rescues and milking goats and egg-laying chickens for sustainable change. We know God cares more for the orphans and poor than we do, so pray that we would see how He wants us to proceed.
5. PRAY for teachers—we’re looking for two young men!! Praise God that we have Ashley Wood and Sarah Reber coming to teach at Rwenzori Mission School in the Fall, and their support-raising is in full swing. John and Loren Clark with baby Bryan (development) and Heidi Lutjens (nurse) were also approved for apprenticeships to begin in early/mid 2008. But we still have a need for a full-time RMS and a full-time CSB position, and want to pray that God would send us two young men. Perhaps they would both teach both places half-time? Pray.

Let these cries come right into God’s presence as you plead for Him to act. We’d like to see an amazing dedication party, real spiritual growth at CSB, a thriving team, surprisingly abundant food funds, and the sudden appearance of two young men who want to come and teach. But if not . . . .pray that we would still praise the One who invigorates our souls, who gives us the iron to endure and wait. With gratefulness and love, Jennifer for the team

62 Americans

This may be the largest ever number of Americans to gather at one time in Bundibugyo District . . . Our growing team (32 of 34 present), summer interns (5), the Tabb family (3) back for a weekend visit, a visiting nurse-pracitioner friend (1) of Pamela’s from NYC named Sonja, then who would have predicted but a team of (21) men and women from Selma, Alabama, who came for about a week to visit the Charistmatic Episcopal church directed by our friend Hannington Bahemuka. We invited them to come for pizza and praise, a taste of home and an opportunity to pray for us and join us in worship. Our industrious team came to our aid, we made 54 pizzas, and no one left hungry. But better still we shared our hearts and prayed for each other, then ended in a lively time of singing together. It was powerful and encouraging. I don’t think we could handle these numbers for a solid week, but for a night we managed to all fit in our house together!

Bikoluwa (Lubwisi ACTS)

On Saturday, the third published book of the Bible in Lubwisi was presented, celebrated, dedicated and launched. Waller and Mary Tabb, our former team mates who began the Bible translation work many years ago and still facilitate and supervise from afar, came for the weekend, as well as a couple of other SIL (Wycliffe) representatives. Stacks of the bright blue paper back book, 96 pages with simple line drawings and maps, were sold at about 20% of the actual cost of printing.

There are several poignant memories of the day. First, the sense of identity that language brings. Translating the Bible into Lubwisi has intrinsic value because it is the word of God, Truth. But it also has some pretty amazing smaller values, like codifying the language of a few hundred thousand people in agreed-upon letters, giving them group cohesion, significance. With these books the thoughts and words of their hearts take on recognizable form in paper and ink just as the thoughts and words of the dominating powers of the world. There is something very strengthening about that. Second, publishing a book of stories fits well into a culture that loves stories, as Scott pointed out in his speech. He encouraged people to buy the book and read it OUT LOUD, giving testimony about how reading aloud teaches children to WANT to learn to read and write. So this small book of the Bible, as it spreads out in the hands of men (and a few women) who can read, can have a far-reaching impact on children who begin to want to hold a book themselves, to get to the end of the story faster, to read on and on. Third, the guest of honor, a visiting Charismatic Episcopal bishop, reminded us that the book of ACTS tells the story of the ACTS of ordinary men and women, followers of Jesus, working the works of Jesus in the power of Jesus. Like them we can also be part of God’s Kingdom as we live the life that Jesus brings.

The launching party was, no surprise, an all day affair, with speeches, protocol, choirs, a (thankfully) poorly functioning sound system, food, etc. Scott had just repainted the entire community center so the setting was festive too. We enjoyed the day but were tired by 5 as people began to disperse to their homes. Scott made a quick end-of-the-day errand to Nyahuka to buy some crates of cokes for anticipated guests. He walked into a small bar to buy these, where a half dozen men sat sipping their bottles of warm local beer. Not unusual on a Saturday evening. However what was unusual: there was not talk and banter, no music, rather all the drinking patrons were listening to a man reading aloud from the Book of ACTS!!

A tale of two Kabughos

Kabugho Margaret is still alive!!  The little 11 year old girl with cancer, whom I sent to Mulago Hospital and despaired of ever seeing again.  Two weeks ago you may recall that her family came to say they had spent all the money and she was dying, they needed more funds to get her back here.  In spite of having separated the money into a “hospital” fund and a “return” fund and telling them that was IT . . . I of course caved in an handed over some more money.  Then for the last two weeks I’ve had no news, I’ve been asking around, trying to find out what happened.  

This morning there they were, sitting in my kitubbi, no longer in respiratory distress from her abdominal fluid, looking wastingly thin but otherwise comfortable and normal.  The mass is much reduced in size.  She is no longer in pain.  It seems that when the father went back with the money for her return, they found that the long-awaited biopsy had been done and that chemotherapy was starting.  She of course has no records but as far as I can piece together she had a course of three chemotherapeutic agents, and on a scrap of paper is written “Discharge.  Return 9 July 07”.  

So whoever is praying for this little girl, it is a miracle that she’s made it this far, and she’s got a long way to go, but I was so encouraged.  Maybe she has a chance.  

Half an hour before she came another family showed up, Kabugho Brenda, one of my spina bifida patients who has been getting intermittent care in Mbale since her birth four years ago.  She is smiling, standing, actually trying to start taking steps.  Her dad had just brought her to show me how well she was doing, a reminder that some families are functional and capable and caring and manage to thrive on very little in spite of their difficulties.

So my tale of two Kabughos this morning was one of encouragement, that even when common sense would say there is little or no hope these two girls and their families have held on.

Return Day Number One

The first day in the CSB student “readmission” process occurred today, with senior classes (S4 and S6) getting first priority in view of their exam preparation.  All in all, the board had a good idea in calling parents and students together in this way.  Kevin, Scott, and anyone else who cared to air their views, all got ample time to speak, including a half dozen or more parents, a handful of staff, and even a couple of students over the course of a four to five hour assembly.  I’m not feeling too well so I mostly sat and listened and tried to discern cultural nuances as people told proverbs whose point eluded me (though everyone else would laugh knowingly).  Basically the parent take on events was:  thank God and thank Kevin that the students were sent home before they caused real damage thereby incurring expenses for their parents, and now you students we know that injustice happens but stop whining and just buckle down to your studies so you can finish and succeed, we’ve all been disciplined and it did us good, so get on with it.  The student take was muted, since few spoke, but I still sense unease.  The staff take was that they can’t do their job if students are undisciplined and dangerous, that they care about students but they won’t put up with demanding attitudes and certainly not with violence.  Scott’s plea was for everyone to realize they are on the same team, but I think we’re a long ways from achieving that.  The staff have been too scared, too pushed into the corner by the threat of harm.  They want a few students to be identified and expelled.  They spoke of their hearts remaining open, but it will take a miracle of prayer and forgiveness for that to really happen.  What did come out of today was a peaceful return, a severe reprimand to students, a clarification that students can not control the school, and a general appreciation and alliance between parents and teachers.  

Personally I am relieved that it went as well as it did.  The process has been a far cry from the Peacemaker ideal that we are studying, but perhaps as close as we can come given the maturity and experience of the staff and the students.  Discipline requires mutual love and respect.  I fail my children, and they rebel against me, but we have the permanent commitment to continue on in relationship.  How that plays out at a boarding school where most of the staff are too young to be parents, and most of the students have lacked genuine parental input over the course of their lives, remains to be seen.  My personal students had been questioned and singled out as potential ring-leaders, so I went into the day with the sickening dread that one or more could be expelled, a tragedy for their lives as well as for my kids’ cross-cultural friendships and trust.  So far so good, the three in S4 and S6 are all readmitted, though the ominous mention of “ongoing investigation” continues.  The S1 class will return Friday, S2’s Monday, finishing with S3 and S5 Wednesday a week from today.  We are praying for genuine reconciliation, and for faith to believe it can happen.

Weariness and wonder

Grief continues but the weariness of the last week has been boosted by a glimpse of wonder.  On Friday I had a sweet visit with our dying neighbor in which he and his two wives decided it was OK for us to go away for the weekend.  He’s actually considerably improved on his new medicines and doses, so knowing we needed the break, we went ahead.  Saturday morning I hiked with 18 others over the Bwamba pass, a footpath that connects Bundibugyo with Fort Portal through a nearly 9,000 foot high bamboo forest.  It is a demanding 20 kilometers of steep rutted trail, loose stones, mud, occasional houses, gasping ascent and spectacular views.  Julia, Caleb, and Jack all managed to keep up, as well as our 20 something interns and a few team members.  The day was a welcome respite, a focus on breathing and walking, nothing more.  Saturday night around the campfire we told stories with the interns and made smores, then Sunday morning I was one of the missionaries who agreed to give a talk on Sonship, their weekend discipleship seminar.  Sunday we drove to Queen Elizabeth National Park where we then camped as a family, just the six of us an nothing but wild animals for miles around, until Tuesday.  A day and a half, reading a good novel, driving through the park scanning for the antics of elephant families, preparing some amazingly gourmet fireside food, watching the stars come out with my kids while reading “Danny Champion of the World” aloud (a great Roald Dahl read I got for my Bday), listening for growls.  

When Job’s comforters got him really down, God told him to go look at the hippos.  I find that we need the removal from all things human to hear the voice of the Lord.  The sorrows of the Fall seem fewer and further between out in the wildnerness.

Endurance

Endurance is the name of a movie we watched last night about the Ethiopian Olympic Gold Medalist in the 10,000 meter run in 1996.  By sheer determination he ran back and forth to school, to work, to fetch water, to train, and never gave up on his dream, in spite of the death of his mother, the misunderstanding of his father, and the harshness of his environment.

Well, this week is feeling like the 25th lap.  But I’m not running like Haile.  My heart still grieves over the chasm between staff and students at CSB, and though there is a plan for bringing students back (an answer to prayer) there are ongoing concerns which trouble us.  Pray for faith that it will end in reconciliation in a way that brings God glory.  Rain is pouring down now as it has all day which is throwing our weekend hike-with-the-interns plan into question.  I’ve cried about ten times in the last 24 hours which is probably a sign that I need a break, but how to get one in this rain?  Last night at almost midnight our dear neighbor called for us, the family said he was dying, and he probably would have, his heart failure had taken a big turn for the worse.  But Scott was able to administer more medicines and today he’s a little better, though we all know he can’t last long.  The whole scenario this morning of sitting with him reminded me so much of my Dad, the grief came in quick strong waves.  Rain soaked me on the way to work and then kept anyone from coming to the staff Bible study I had prepared.  When I finally gave up and saw patients I found many very ill, including a baby who I thought might have meningitis.  As I was doing the lumbar puncture she stopped breathing, and in spite of some resuscitation efforts she died in my hands.  So all in all it has been a tough 24 hours.  Scott left this morning to take Luke and several other students for a math contest they qualified for in Mbarara.  So being here alone doesn’t help either . . . .

Endurance, looking towards the gold, and feeling the gasping struggle.

Remembering Thankfulness

In a week of stress and challenge it is easy to forget to be thankful.  So let me remember now to be thankful:  no people were injured in the rising student unrest, no property was damaged.  The board met yesterday and made a plan for a way forward to bring students back with their parents’ cooperation.  I’ve had some good time with my own students here, listening and trying to understand.  The Peacemaker Bible study we are working on as a team is extremely real and vital in the midst of this conflict!  The sense of sorrow and despair I felt the first night has lessened significantly, no doubt an answer to prayer that we would have hope.  I’m thankful for the prayers that this crisis brought out, for the encouraging e-mails and comments people have sent.  

Rick led us in some quotes from Elizabeth Elliot and John Piper as we prayed together as a team, reminding us that:  GOD IS GOD.  We can’t explain all that happens or control the outcome or judge our value by what we accomplish.  Our part is to love Jesus, as simple as that sounds it is the hardest thing for us to do.  To live in faithfulness, to continue to move towards love, to overcome evil with good, and to leave the consequences to Him.  Amen.

Meanwhile some other good things have been happening:  we have a date, July 9, set for the Pediatric Ward Opening, and the US Ambassador has agreed to come.  We have received some helpful advice and Michael has set up meetings next week that could help WHM identify a specific location for a new team in Southern Sudan.  One of our missionary families who needed to buy plane tickets had a sudden provision of a good deal.  There were some glitches with the Kwejuna food distribution on Monday but God gave Scott and Pamela the grace to give the unhappy women space by walking away, and allow them to save face but still take home the disputed food, so that a major conflict was avoided.  The sun has shined twice now this week for hours at a time . . . No small thing in this mud.  Jonah came to us with a problem in his life and we had a really good and open meeting about it, affirming our friendship.  Lydia and John start teaching HIV prevention and God’s plan for sexuality in the local primary school today.  So in spite of the strains of the CSB closure, we have to thank you for praying, and thank God for continuing to provide so generously in many other ways.  Everything in this paragraph was a specific prayer request on Sunday night in our extended prayer time.  

So keep praying for the students and teachers to find a way to live a peaceful and disciplined life together.  And keep praying for us to wisely move forward in love for God and for others.  

Preemptive strike

Christ School closed abruptly today, the students sent home for threatening to riot as police ensured a peaceful emptying of the school compound. Thankfully it was peaceful, the students have gone, and Kevin’s tough decision to close the school may have saved us from disaster. I am not the person on the inside of this story, but I am grieved. As the day unfolded and we got hints that things were going down hill, and Scott spent about half his day down there, listening to teachers, trying to support Kevin, arranging security. But as I prepared our guest room for the three female interns (deemed not safe for them to stay on campus) and cooked dinner for two families, I realized I was feeling bone weary. At dinner I tried to talk and ended up in tears, and finally realized where the emotions of the day had taken me.

Sin is a barrier between people, and today just showed that more clearly than usual. The students are not innocent, in fact a few are quite guilty. But those that caused trouble by agitating, demanding, throwing rocks on the roofs of teachers houses (makes an ominous noise here and is a threatening act) and even at one of the gate guards, those students have caused great suffering for the silent majority. Now the students are easily demonized in the eyes of the staff, and the idea that the school had to disband to save lives (a real possibility) only serves to reinforce the divisions. The final straw came when Kevin saw a student carrying a cast-off board with a long nail in the end, quite weapon-like. We live here in Africa, where identity centers on the group and being differentiated from the other group, and where one group is prepared to physically fight the other for perceived survival (Rwanda, Darfur, Congo are all around us). Teachers vs. students, administration vs. staff, Babwisi vs. Bakonjo, Bundibugyo natives vs. outsiders. The bad behaviour of some students just gives all of us more fodder for our desire to see the evil in all of them. And that makes me sad, because two of the students are my sons, another six are boys we sponsor, and another handful are good friends of my kids.

They will suffer, we all will. They will miss class for days (?weeks), fall even further behind in subjects where most of them struggle to achieve decent grades.

Jesus came to break down that dividing wall of hostility. We need some serious rock-wall-smashing here, not aggressive rock-throwing. How will the teachers who felt endangered be able to forgive and accept the students again? How will the students who felt persecuted be willing to come back into community? How will the administration have the wisdom to guide all of us through the minefield of disappointments and demands?

We had an earthquake here on Friday night, a significant trembler. Last night lightening struck nearby again (centered around the Gray’s house this time), no damage but a deafening frightening noise and flash. Two pretty direct hits from lightening on our mission in less than a month, well, it’s a bit much. We prayed for some significant things on Sunday night together and have already seen some answers to very specific requests. But the counter-attack didn’t take long, and hit very close to our hearts. We need prayer.

On acting parental

Yesterday I was invited by one of the young boys we sponsor in school to attend his primary school’s “Parents’ Day” celebration. This boy came into our lives when his father was selected as one of our Mother and Child Survival Project’s nursing students, a program we had in the late 90’s to train the top secondary school graduates in the district (pre-CSB!) in community health for a year and then sponsor them in schools of nursing, laboratory science, and even a few in teacher training college. Sadly this boy’s father spiraled downward with alcoholism, failed out of school, destroyed his marriage, and ended up back in Bundibugyo. The redeeming aspect of the story is Ivan, whom we befriended, and is now one of our kids’ closest friends. His mother is long gone and remarried and his father has shown signs of change . . . But I knew I’d be the only parent-figure for Ivan so I went. And I stayed, through almost six hours, knowing that with my front-row seat of honor I could not graciously disappear, and that I care about Ivan and wanted him to feel supported (Jack lasted just over two hours but deserted me). Like most official functions this one limped off to a late start—I came an hour after the stated time and was the second parent there, though by the time the festivities started there were probably a hundred and fifty adults and scads of kids. Like most official functions, there were a series of speeches by those in charge, calling upon parents to support the school, to be sure their children don’t miss days, to buy the official socks and ties and shoes so they look smart, to donate reams of paper, etc. And like most official functions, the speeches were followed by entertainment. This time each class, from nursery and P1 up to P7 presented songs and dramas.

The theme of the day was to fight child abuse, a worthy topic in this place. My personal favorite moment was when the top girl in the school gave her speech. I was sitting by her father, who is a big man, meaning he has multiple wives, a steady job as a government primary school headmaster in another part of the district, political connections, etc. Everyone is amazed and enjoys the fact that a girl can speak English, boldly. She listed examples of child abuse (beating children with a cane which is a common form of discipline, failing to provide adequate food and clothing). Then she launched into causes of child abuse by saying: the first is polygamy. Well, the audience went wild. ALL the big men laughed and laughed, that nervous laughter. I was the only female seated up front among the local councilmen, school administrators, police, etc. I’m sure that most of them have more than one wife. The women in the audience clapped and cheered the girl while the men laughed and shifted about in their chairs and joked with one another. It took several minutes to restore order. Her father shook his head, smiling, pride and guilt mixed together? Do they feel guilt? I’m not sure. I sense that there is an awareness that the rest of the world thinks polygamy is backwards and uncivilized, but real men go ahead and make their own rules. Clan, progeny, power, and respect are more powerful motivators than feeling out-of-Kampala-style still in this place. Still there must be hope. If a girl can put that in her speech in front of over a hundred people, many of them community leaders, including her own polygamous father, there must be hope. I know her family and know that the polygamy of her father has caused painful rifts. The happy illusion of many wives cooperating is mostly that, an illusion. In real life there is jealousy, betrayal, and not enough money to go around. I don’t doubt that one endpoint of that path is indeed child abuse.

Sadly Ivan’s moment of glory came in his class (P6) play, a drama demonstrating the problems of alcoholism and how it leads to neglect and abuse of children. Ivan played the alcoholic father. He’s a good actor, and more than any other kid all day had the audience’s rapt attention and gales of laughter. I was proud of his courageous acting, and his skill, and his English . . .but my heart broke with the knowledge that he was playing his own father, that most of what he was demonstrating he had probably personally experienced at home. Do 6th graders in the US dwell on alcoholism, AIDS, and child abuse when they play-act? I don’t know, but I see the value here, for children to express through drama the brokenness of the world, and to be affirmed in their hope that what they see is not all there is, that there is another way to live. And I see the value of children being the ones to change culture, to explore through dramas different ways for people to relate, and to safely express that to their elders on parents’ day. Another alcoholic medical worker (nursing assistant) friend was in the audience, one whom I’ve had heart to heart talks with before. So I’m praying that the day served not only to honor students but to challenge the parents.

I got home just in time to get organized for our team’s extended summer prayer time, another almost six hours of laboring through the petitions of the Lord’s Prayer and lifting up our Ugandan partners, our fellow missionaries, and our heart-felt needs to the returning King. A long day, yes, but one in which the Kingdom inched forward I believe.