Yes, dogs, not very a very spiritual sounding praise, but there it is. Angie and Star may look like ordinary yellow labs, but they may also be guardian angels in disguise . . . We have been here more than 14 years now. That’s the marathon pace, not the sprint. And Angie and Star help set the pace. On Saturday, for instance, there were about a dozen kids at my house: two classmates of Luke now on holiday reading Hardy Boys, two classmates of Caleb studying for exams with him, four young kids giggling with Jack and Julia as they beat drums and played Christmas carols, and a few other assorted acquaintances. Without the dogs that number could swell to 50 or more at the drop of a hat, and then my kids would retreat into the safety of their room. Instead the friends they know and want to be with also know the dogs and are not afraid of them, while random passers-by on the road take a look at the two big white dogs and decide to pass on. Angie and Star are part of what makes this house a home, what makes my children long to come back here in spite of the lure of distant luxuries. Angie and Star are part of the reason I can stay here alone when Scott has to travel, providing at least an illusion of security and decent sleep in spite of armed military patrolling nearby.
Angie is now 11 1/2 years old. It has been a decade since we ran for our lives with her . . . She’s getting old, arthritic, sleeping a lot. Star is still a bouncy 7-year-old, the liveliest puppy of the litter whom we took on Luke’s longing against the advice of the breeder that we choose a calmer family dog. Star and Jack have grown up together, the dog and human sides of one wild soul. God gave Adam the animals right away, before he even had human companionship. I’m thankful for our dogs.
Today I am thankful for team. We’re in the end-of-the-year process of annual reviews, which is a good time to reflect on how God’s faithfulness has brought us through a year. Today we met with Stephanie—a year ago she was just settling in and trying to figure out her plan and calling, meeting barriers and disappointment on funding prospects, and dealing with some unexpected changes in personal plans. Now a year later we can look back with amazement and joy to see what God has done: a chicken project producing eggs for malnourished kids, sustainable protein in the form of ground nuts being farmed and locally ground into paste, two outlying health units with trained staff and new kids enrolled in pilot outpatient programs, a dozen kids getting lifesaving milk on the inpatient ward and dozens more who’ll be helped this week through the ART clinic, even little Chance going home today a perky smiling 7 kilograms, back on the road to health, and even the personal disappointments do not look so drastic now . . . Plus a year ago we didn’t even know that the Massos would be on an HMA, but God provided Stephanie to learn from Karen and then take on her time-consuming administration and supervision of the whole BundiNutrition program.
Our team has pared down in the last few weeks and will soon tighten again. But those who are here continue to work and cry out and cook and live and love . . . Pamela is running a last hurrah massive TBA training and party tomorrow at the Community Center, a chance to say goodbye to these148 older ladies who attend to most of the deliveries in Bundibugyo. Pat is gearing up for more services to HIV positive people through a new program. Kim has been visiting two local primary schools weekly to encourage the teachers in redemptive approaches to their students, and has two different overnight visits planned with local families this week. Sarah and Ashley teach our kids every day, and find time to sing Christmas carols with little neighbors or coach girls’ soccer. Scott Will sees dozens and dozens of patients weekly, CSB students and HIV positive adults and pediatric admissions, and when he comes up for air from that he organizes games for the crowds of loitering children the rest of us would like to chase home! And in spite of constant illness and threatened discouragement the Barts are hanging in there to finish the CSB year strong. We have a great team of people who press on in weakness, who pause to enjoy the beauty of life here, who long for relationships and meaning and real impact, and who are willing to create community in a tough place. I’m thankful for our team.
Today I’m thankful for traveling mercies . . . That phrase that echoed in old-fashioned prayers in our church growing up, and Anne Lamott uses to describe the grace which carries us through this life’s journey. Specifically I’m thankful that Luke made it to America, a mercy not to be taken for granted as a missionary coming the other way to Fort Portal got temporarily stranded in Dubai, and even vehicles trying to get to and from the airport in Entebbe have been stranded by flooding here. This trip called life involves lots of bumpy roads, detours, washed out bridges and impassable mud, so I’m very thankful when we get to rise above the muck and fly smoothly. How quickly I forget the grace which sustains us every day, until near-disaster lurks close enough to realize how blessed we are. That came this week as Savannah had her first febrile convulsion, she’s better now, but seeing one of our mission kids limp and pale is always a reminder to be thankful for the hourly traveling mercies which carry us along.
Luke was up for 40 straight hours on this trip from Bundibugyo all the way to Grammy’s house. Maybe he’ll be a doctor after all . . .
The season of Thankfulness is good for the soul. So I will try to blog thanks this week. Today I am thankful for my kids. I’m thankful that Luke, who was once a preterm little baby refusing to eat or sleep . . . Is now nearly six feet tall, able to write long essays in subjects ranging from physics to poetry, and is right now independently flying to meet his grandmother. I’m thankful for Caleb, who has spent the entire morning in the front room with two class mates, two batteries, scraps of wire, paper clips, and switches, doing experiments and studying for his upcoming end-of-the-year exams; who cheerfully runs four or five miles in second-to-last place as a member of the cross country team; who steps up to the absence of his dad and big brother by organizing his siblings or by sweeping up after dinner. I’m thankful for Julia who went down to play soccer with the Christ School girls she calls friends yesterday even though the coach was sick, who decided to surprise her brother Caleb by totally organizing his room while he was studying, who wrote her Dad a birthday poem, who delights in partnering with me for the care of the family. I’m thankful for Jack who wants to be a chef and helped me create a spectacularly successful semi-Italian chicken and pasta dish with fresh basil last night, exclaiming over the flavors and cheerfully picking, washing, stirring, sautéing, then eating with gusto; who reads voraciously; who solves problems speedily; who wants to be and do everything his brothers are. Children are living testaments to grace, there is no way to deserve loyalty or even the company of the people they are growing to be, but here they are, mine.
Double Scott Birthday tonight—two prime number birthdays, one in the decade of the 20’s and one in the 40’s, for Scott Will and Scott Myhre, who not only share a name, good looks, medical know-how, adventurous spirits, and godly hearts, but also have Bdays in the same week . . . Superb pizza as usual, homemade ice cream straight from the cow (who was mooing through the fence as we ate, to the delight of the twins), cakes courtesy of team mate Kim, and a fun party game where everyone got a bag of goodies I wrapped up from the Gray’s cupboard clean out (best prize: Trader Joe’s dark chocolate chips!!). Caleb put together an amazing Keynote (Mac version of PowerPoint) presentation to honor his Dad (with help from his siblings, including poetry by Julia). It was a fun family night, one that was needed after a heart-sapping week of goodbyes and troubles.
We also honored Luke who will finish his last of 19 exams tomorrow! Computer Theory. His dream was to relax in a hammock and read Lord of the Rings straight through as soon as exams were over, all three volumes, pausing only for food. . . . So we had bought him a beautiful Ugandan woven hammock as a gift to celebrate this milestone. However instead of lazing in the hammock he’s having his best friends over for dinner and a sleep-over and then they all get up early Friday to drive out. His class mates will stop in Fort Portal while Scott and Scott take Luke on to Entebbe to fly out to America. My baby is going across the ocean alone, to cheer his Grammy and be pampered post-exams.
This week we read from Acts 7 in church, where Stephen recounts the history of Israel. The portion we read described Moses, and in one of those moments of Holy Spirit presence in church I saw myself so clearly. Moses was a fixer. He saw injustice and he jumped in to fix it (v. 23-28). He was about my age then, and trying to do the right thing. But his people did not appreciate or accept his interventions! God had to take him through his own personal wilderness years (40 of them!) before he was ready to really lead, to hear the voice of the Lord and to respond. Then the one whom the people rejected became the one whom God chose to end the oppression of His people, but in God’s time and God’s way, not Moses’. I want to be more like the 80 year old Moses than the 40 year old, broken of my assurance that I see the right and willing to lay aside my solutions and wait upon the Lord. This has been a theme of God’s teaching for me this year. . . .
So I was ready to go into our annual reviews with our team, the time we meet with each person and talk about the blessings and challenges of 2007, goals and dreams fro 2008, very quietly, afraid of pushing my own agenda. Then this morning I read Ezekiel 33: the watchman who sees trouble ahead but remains silent is guilty.
It was good to find these two Scriptures in two consecutive days. I want to wait upon God’s timing and direction, trust Him to address injustice, let Him lead and use me as He would, in Bundibugyo and with our dear team. But I also want to be faithful to speak out. Wisdom means discerning when to be Moses hanging out in the desert until God dramatically works; and when to be Ezekiel actively addressing wrongs.
This morning the Gray family pulled out, three kids, 9 trunks each weighing exactly 50 pounds, strollers, car seats, shoes and juice cups, the fruit of two weeks of careful sorting and packing. It seems like we had just stood in the driveway waiting to welcome them back from their unexpected four-year detour through Grant’s surgeries and therapies (though it is well over a year ago now). That welcome day was one of dancing and rejoicing, songs and delight. . . And the expectation that now they had made it through their difficult trials and were ready to invest in building a life as a family in Bundibugyo. Instead today we stood in the same spot, with tearful hugs, sending them back to uncertain plans and possibly the end of their African journey.
This departure was unanticipated and abrupt, but Pat managed to help them pull together a major feast of goodbye. Yesterday afternoon 350 guests, friends from 18 years of ministry, gathered for a few speeches, thanks, laying on hands and prayer, and then a meal. Pictured above you’ll see Grant in front of the massive pot used to cook the pilau (rice and meat); the Gray family being prayed for; and Julia with Chase wearing the hat she crocheted him for Christmas (which is bittersweet, because measuring for the hat project was instrumental in our realization that his head was not growing normally . . . ). Pray for them, for Chase to be healed, to grow and develop and talk and walk in ways that bring God glory. Pray that the Grays would experience Jesus more fully in the way of the cross, the path of suffering. Pray that we would too, because we are suffering as well, losing our neighbors, team mates, friends, maybe for the foreseeable future. Pray most of all for their Ugandan friends, who are not used to goodbyes, to moves, who don’t have email and international travel to keep in touch with distant friends. Pray that we would all sense the comfort of God’s presence.
What single guy would NOT want to join this team??? Why in the world is this one leaving??? Sigh.
The MAF plane took two tries to lift off from our somewhat soggy, hand-slashed (still waiting for our replacement mower since the old one was destroyed in August . . .) airstrip as a misty cloud moved down the mountain to envelop us in rain. Whew. Thankfully they are safely in the air and en route to Kampala, then tomorrow back to the US. Last night we had tearful prayers, a very funny video put together by Luke, gifts, reminiscences, pizza of course, and ended the evening with a wild game that was part “ghost” (tag with a blindfold) and part dancing to the Shrek soundtrack. This week is a season of goodbyes, with the Gray departure still looming. I think I’m unable to take in the reality of it all, though moments do break through, today for me it was seeing Caleb cling to Scotticus in his goodbye hug, the realization that this life of intense relationship and inevitable departure takes a chunk of my kids’ hearts too.
Click on the “Flicker Picture Sets” for the latest slide show posting . . A farewell intramural track meet yesterday to celebrate the new track and bring closure to Scott Ickes’ hard work. We were the only parents cheering . . .but it was really fun to see both our biological kids (Caleb and Jack) give their all, and some of our students and friends successfully race. My favorite moment was when Mutegeki, who walked on barefoot for the race (he’s not on the team) beat everyone in a 200 yard dash, the kid who was suspended earlier this year and has had a rough time. A little affirmation, hopefully will keep him on track . . . .
