Future Generations

This phrase comes up in Psalms, and is the name of an NGO founded by one of our Hopkins professors. It is on my mind after visiting Luke at Yale. Yale is such a loaded word. I usually don't mention where my kids go to college unless asked. Either people are unreasonably intimidated by that name, or skeptical and prejudiced against it. In reality, though, Yale is a great place simply because of the great kids who are there. Luke is living in a suite with five other guys, mostly the same group randomly assigned together as incoming freshmen. I remember meeting each of them and their parents a couple years ago when we were all nervous and new. So it was great fun to come back and go out to dinner with them, sit and talk in the suite, haul furniture together, make coffee. One young man spent the summer writing code for a new iphone app to analyze urine dip-stick medical tests. Another did physics research using nano-technology in Munich, Germany. Another was back home in Costa Rica playing football, another rowing crew, another enrolled himself in a cooking school in China. All this sounds intellectual and eccentric. But when you sit down with these guys, they are without exception just down-to-earth, nice guys. Smiling. Finding their way in the world. Endearing. Sincere. Polite. Personable.

It's a great place to work and study and strive and grow for many reasons, but the calibre of kids Luke has found himself in community with is one of the most important.

Dear Blog I Have Neglected Thee

Somewhere in the dislocation of life this summer, we dropped off the blog habit.  I've tried to think about why this happened.  I wasn't in Africa, so I felt I had less to say. I was also off-line most of the summer.  Scott was managing alone, and feeding the kids was more of a priority than writing.  Luke went back to visit Uganda so we begged him for a guest column, unsuccessfully.  Mostly I think this silence simply reflects the season.  From late June to early August, I spent forty days in solitude, quiet, inward and upward but little outward.  Blogging is my usual way to process life, and for this period I was instead processing with God alone.

I found that reading through stacks and stacks of old letters, praying and thinking and walking, offered the space for grief and healing that had been squeezed out in the two years since we left Uganda, squeezed out by medicine and the ongoing noise of normal family life and other good things.  I needed time to reflect, and am extremely grateful that thanks to many people's sacrifice this was granted.  In the process I wrote several hundred pages of what might be a first draft of a book.  It needs a lot of work.

Now we are only a day away from the end of August, and turning a corner into the next season of life.  Yesterday we left Luke in New Haven, having helped him move into his dorm suite.  Since we've been absent for two years he really doesn't need that help, but it gave us pleasure to buy IKEA pillows and fresh sheets, to take him and his buddies to dinner, to discuss the merits of biochemistry and swahili classes.  As I write this we're on a flight to Denver en route to Caleb's parents' weekend at the USAFA.  In a week we'll be on a flight back to Kenya, thinking about patients and call schedules and soccer games and hospitality. 

I am very thankful for this summer.  For the bond of traveling with Caleb into this adventure of military service, for memorable meals on the coast in Amsterdam and on the porch in West Virginia, for the thrill of his letters arriving and his spirits strengthening, for the firm hug and proud tour on acceptance day.  I'm thankful for time in August with my mom and sister and family, for movies with my buddy Micah, for seeing my niece and nephews in their home, for talking and dreaming with them.  For brief, precious hours with some of the people we served with in Uganda, those bonds never ceasing, those loyal friends willing to meet off a highway here or there:  Michelle, Ashley, JD (with Joe, Louisa, Nate, and Savannah!), Heather, Joanna, Sarah and Nathan.  For a week in Norway with Scott's sister and family, getting in touch with the Myhre cultural heritage, unlimited wild berries, August snow,  steep fjords, museums and hikes.  For a chance to reconnect with Jack and Julia in this long time away from Africa.  For Scott returning to America with me for the college visits.  For our supportive church, for meals with friends, borrowed cars, generosity beyond measure, especially from my mom.  Because there is always a cost to be paid, and the shared time with Caleb was only granted by missing a huge chunk of my other kids' lives.  They are troopers.

If there are any readers who have not given up on us, let this serve as a notice by faith that we are back.  If you'll still have us . . . 

Acceptance Day

Today Caleb went from "Basic Cadet" in boot camp to "Cadet 4th Class", officially accepted at the USAFA. 

This was a day of pomp and precision, honor and commitment.  The entire USAFA turned out to march in parade, complete with flags and band, two A10 "Warthogs" flying over with perfect timing at the exact moment they were to appear, and even cannon fire.

I arrived early to get just the right space in the stands where Caleb's squadron would be.  Met nice dedicated parents of other young men who flew in to do the same.

The placement was perfect, but the cadets faced the field, so I mostly saw Caleb from behind . .

That's his elbow, in case you didn't recognize it, middle column, second row in, just in front of young lady with bun.

There was a speech by a member of the class of 1966 (their predecessors by 50 years), some vows, all very patriotic and impressive.  They promise not to lie, cheat, or steal, or tolerate amongst them those who do, to live honorably, and do their duty. 

All that was very inspiring, but not nearly as inspiring as actually walking ONTO that field and getting a big hug from my boy.  I am so so so so thankful for everyone who is suffering to allow me to be here this summer.  I can't say enough how important it has felt to my heart to be here to write letters and pray from the same state and time zone, to be cheering on at in-processing and acceptance.  THANK YOU SCOTT MYHRE and everyone else.

This is another missionary-kid--he didn't go to RVA but his siblings did, so it was nice of him to come find us.  Caleb MacLachlan, thanks.

This is Caleb with his roommate from basic training, who is sent here by the military from Senegal.  I kind of like the way Africa just rises up to find you no matter where you go.  They enjoyed playing football (soccer) together.

From the parade ground we were allowed to walk into the cadet academic area, which is normally off limits to mere mortal civilians like me.  This is the "Core Values" ramp and arch.  Integrity first, service before self, and excellence in all you do. 

 From there we headed for the dorm.

Today the 4th class cadets could walk normally with parents--as soon as we left, they have to spend the rest of the year RUNNING everywhere they go ON THE WHITE MARBLE LINES in the terrazzo.  My image is that of a little vole or mouse hunted by a huge hawk, scurrying from safety zone to safety zone, reluctant to emerge in the open.  I'm actually serious that it is a big perk that Caleb's dorm is very close to the dining hall.  Less time outside=less chance for abuse.

The hall, this is one HUGE building.

The actual room, Caleb has the top bunk but he doesn't actually sleep on it, instead he sleeps on the floor, which saves him a few minutes of life in the mornings because the bed stays made.  His two new roommates he likes a lot.  One is an American football player from Texas.  I was blessed to hang out with his parents after we all said goodbye.

Two of his "cadre", the upper-class men and women who were their leaders during basic training, pinned shoulder boards on.  Caleb has one wavy stripe now.  Lowest on the totem pole until next year's class comes.  His squadron is 27 (of total 40, about 100-120 in each, just over 4000 total cadets), see the Thunderbird symbol.  This little detail is like the moment I walked into the Yale chapel and the organist was playing a hymn that was very significant to me and specially connected to Luke.  For Caleb, I really am happy he's a Thunderbird.  My dad was a huge Thunderbird CAR fan, had an early one, and later a restored one.  We had glasses with this symbol at my home. 

Then, oh joy, we had almost two hours to just talk and eat a picnic.  I drove us up to this overlook on campus.  Caleb was able to greet all siblings, Scott, and a good friend from RVA, on the phone.  I learned some fun things as he thought of what to say about the last two months.  The first week was the worst, and he's learning that transition is just HARD.  He actually really LIKED the second part, when other people were stressed about living outside in tents and being dirty, he was in his element. The obstacles courses, running, shooting, all of that was more fun for him.  The physical part he did well.  He ran the fastest 1.5 miles in his squadron of over 100 kids.  He was selected, he thought, to do the parachute jump (only the top kid in each squadron on the whole physical fitness test gets to do this) but at the last minute, after he had signed the papers and received instruction, he was told he was an alternate, losing the place to a girl who did better relative to the female standards (she's a recruited gymnast athlete).  Still I'm proud of him for working so hard to be fit.  He's probably the ONLY basic cadet who GAINED ten pounds.  Yes, they made him drink energy boosts three times a day, and he thought the food was good and abundant.  My African kids get to American college food and think it's fantastic.  So he put on a good bit of muscle.  He thinks he may be the youngest kid there.  He's homesick for us, and for Africa, but determined to persevere.  He thinks about who he is, and I like who he is and who he's becoming.

Then we carried school supplies, a printer, underwear, goodies and the GUITAR (allowed at the last minute) to his dorm room, and  had to say goodbye again.  I know that was hard for both of us.  It was so good to see and feel him in the flesh and hear a bit about his life.  I do think he has made some friends, and found things to laugh about.  I also know it is wearing to be constantly graded, constantly competitive, always at risk of being abused, never quite sure of what is next or how to act and react.  When I came out into the real world again, I realized what an elite group is there, every single person healthy and smart and strong and courageous.  It's definitely not the real world but we pray it is a training ground for those who would influence the world for good, rescue the weak, stand for honor.

Grief is always so tiring.  So off to rest and recover, but very very thankful.

Ebola in Uganda...again

The Ugandan Ministry of Health and the World Health Organization confirmed yesterday that another epidemic of Ebola virus has broken out in western Uganda.  This time the virus has emerged in Kibaale District just south of Fort Portal (separated from Bundibugyo District by the Rwenzori mountain range).

According to news reports,
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2012/jul/29/uganda-ebola-outbreak-confirmed?newsfeed=true
there have been 20 cases and 14 deaths...a 70% mortality rate.

Pray that this would be brought under control...

Assaults and a Mom's heart

Today Caleb's squadron ran through the assault course.  I'm not 100% sure the picture below is him, but it shows you a bit of what he's up against.  They crawl through mud, over obstacles, run, get yelled at, have to hit things with their gun, then they have to actually fight each other (with a lot of padding).  The blog about this rates the various courses on a scale of 1 to 10 for "fun" and while there are some in the 4-8 range this one gets a negative 50.

But someone has to do this stuff, as evidenced by the tragic happenings only a hundred km away in a Denver suburb.  Evil grabs hold of people, and they do evil things that hurt others, and we're better off with someone like Caleb holding the line.  I was thinking of how much he's like his dad, who always does the hard stuff even when it costs him a lot, because it's the right thing to do.

Getting up at 4:30 to 4:45 am daily, running miles, uncountable pushups, all while being verbally abused 24/7 takes its toll.  When we scroll through pictures looking for Caleb, he usually looks just as beat as everyone else.  I was praying today for him to find a moment of friendship in the muck, and maybe even see a smile.  Here is my answer to prayer tonight!

Meanwhile Luke is just back from a week-long journey by hitched rides, matatus, buses, rafts, and foot (over the mountains) to visit his old home in Bundibugyo with his friend Stephen Congdon.  That's his story to tell and I hope he does (hint hint).  But my mom-heart was very happy to hear HIS joy in sitting in the familiar setting of a neighbor's small tin-roofed home as the rain drummed down, eating the African food he misses, reconnecting with the only people in the world who have seen him grow day by day and known him consistently since infancy.  As I pray and reflect on our life, the cost to our kids sobers me.  They are different than I am in fundamental ways because of their childhood.  A lot of that is good:  courage to do the hard things like Caleb, feeling very much at home in places of poverty and isolation like Luke.  But a lot of their life is hard too, and I am grateful for the many prayers that continue to uphold them.

Unbroken

Today Caleb marched out to "Jack's Valley", for phase two of the Basic Cadet Training boot camp.  Here the squadrons will pitch their tents to camp and be run through endless obstacle-course type drills.  Scaling walls, crawling through mud, climbing ropes, firing weapons, learning first aid, running, and practicing war maneuvers.  They have been told this second half will be much more physically demanding than the first half, which is saying something.  Caleb lost three pounds the first week from his already minimal frame, and got put on three-times-a-day calorie supplement drinks.  We got to talk to him on Sunday (OH JOY) and he sounds OK.  It is certainly no fun to be awoken at 4:30 every morning, yelled at all day long, always at attention, always on edge, doing uncountable push-ups til your hands start to blister, and constantly pushed to the limit.  But he believes he is doing the right thing, and that means a lot.  Please do pray for him.  And ask God to bless the Stuarts, his sponsor family.  For "Doolie Day out" the one day all summer they can leave the Academy and talk on the phone and eat in peace, they picked him up and took him to church and grilled him a steak and prayed for him and let him use their phone for hours.  They are saints.  I have the image of Caleb out in the ocean, working hard to stay afloat, and the sponsors are lifeguards who pull him to shore and give him rest and nourishment so he can jump in again. 

All of the abusive sleep-deprived treatment is easier to understand with some context, and for that I am thankful for this book:

It tells the story of an Olympic runner turned  Air Force bomber in WWII.  He and his pilot and a crew of ten slammed into the Pacific on a search and rescue mission for another downed plane (the number of men lost to accidents in that war is chilling).  Only two survive and drift 2000 miles over almost 40 days on a life raft circled by sharks until they are captured as they land on a Japanese-occupied island.  The following two years of POW camps involve unimaginable physical torture and starvation.  About 1% of German POW's died, but over 30% of Japanese POW's died.  The book advertises "redemption" which is one of my key book criteria. . . if you read it, stick with it to the final chapters.

The experience of Air Force pilots and their crew members as POW's I believe informs much of what takes place in BCT.  They want to weed out anyone who will quit when the going gets tough.

For all of us, faith means hanging on in very hard times, and we are made more Christ-like through suffering.  Caleb is getting a lifetime's worth of this in a few weeks, so pray for him to keep his eyes on the goal and stay strong.

Recruiting for Uganda

Is God calling you to serve in Uganda? WHM Bundibugyo in Uganda is now recruiting for the following teammates:

To begin September 2012:

1. Three month intern for children (female): preschool for RMS, lead afternoon Good News Clubs in community, lead CSB chapel group, assist in team life; Needed- a patient and compassionate heart for loving and teaching little ones about Jesus

2. Three to six month intern (male): assist in community outreach and mission maintenance; Needed- a willingness to jump into life and help out with a positive attitude!

For January to May 2013:
1. Medical Professional (MD, DO, NP, PA) to work alongside WHM doctor in the local health center; Needed- diagnostic skills, compassion, and willingness to serve the poorest of the poor

To begin June 2013
1. Teacher for Rwenzori Mission School: 2 year commitment to co-teach 8 mission children; secondary ministry in the local community

2. Missionary Apprentice for Children's Outreach: 2 year commitment to assist in pre-school for mission children, teach afternoon Good News Clubs to community children, and to assist in other outreaches to children/youth in the community

3. Male Missionary Apprentice: 2 year commitment to serve in mission maintenance and in outreach to community through sports, music, writing, and/or leading Bible studies with male youth.

4. Christ School Bundibugyo Program Assistant: 2 year commitment to assist program development at CSB including orphan sponsorship program, discipleship program, and stateside relations.

For further information, contact WHM Bundi Team Leaders Travis and Amy Johnson attravisandamyjohnson@gmail.com or WHM East Africa Recruiter Matt Allison atmallison@whm.org

Old faces and a new face

The weekend prior to the graduation ceremonies of the Rift Valley Academy heralds an annual pilgrimage back to the old stomping grounds for many RVA alumni.  Luke endured an all-night bus ride (Thursday night) from his Mombasa Swahili Program in order to attend "RVA Alumni Weekend 2012".  Customarily, the weekend centers around the class which graduated two years prior.  This year, the Class of 2010 (Luke's class) was the center of attention.  The schedule masters of RVA manage to fill four days with "alumni-v-varsity" games of every variety for both genders (soccer, volleyball, basketball, field hockey, and rugby) as well as other social dinners and teas.



Luke played for the Alumni in the big football (read: soccer) game.  Evenly matched, the teams traded goals and the game ended in a 2-2 draw.  However, rather than leaving the result as a gentlemanly draw, it was considered a Championship Match, which demanded winner.  So, like the recent Euro2012, five players stepped forward to take Penalty Kicks, Luke among the brave volunteers.  Who would claim the Thrill of Victory and who get stuck with the Agony of Defeat.  Alas, despite the fact that Luke made his penalty kick in glorious style, ricocheting off the underside of the crossbar into the rear of the net…the RVA Varsity prevailed.  Had Caleb been around, I probably would have been pulling for the Varsity, but since he wasn't, I, too, shared the Agony of Defeat with Luke's Alumni.  Of course, it could have easily been argued that the final was "fun-to-fun." 


We also hosted most of the Class of 2010 who returned to Kijabe for the weekend for pizza Sunday night.  A "40-cups of flour" dough recipe and 6 pounds of mozzarella, made enough pizza for the thirty ravenous alums… and a few other stragglers.  While Luke's classmates have chosen to attend college in the USA for the most part, they hail from the Netherlands, Brazil, England, Korea, Japan, Germany, Australia - as well as the USA…Among the returnees was Laura Tabb, daughter of our Bundibugyo bible translating colleagues, Waller and Mary.


The show-stealing star of that evening, indeed, the entire weekend is the newest member of the Myhre family….Introducing, Chardonnay.



She's a 8-week old Labrador Retriever-Golden Retriever mix known to some as a Golden Labrador or Goldador.  Her color - a light buff, sandy, pale, fawn….chardonnay.  Her demeanor - a gregarious, party, playful, affectionate…chardonnay.  She's a absolutely beautiful.  The offspring two RVA-based parents.  There seems to be a truth in our family that our kids learned from Jennifer:   if you talk about something frequently enough, you can basically talk something into reality.  I guess that's a sort of biblical concept.  God spoke Creation into existence.  So, too, Julia, Jack and Acacia basically spoke Chardonnay into life in our household.  While the timing has been the foolish end of the wisdom spectrum (Jennifer gone for the first 6 weeks of training a puppy?), the frisky frolicking play of Chardonnay is a welcome distraction from my loneliness.  Twenty-four days down…thirty-nine days left until I see Jennifer again.
 

Processing

 

This 40 days of Caleb's Basic Training is a great gift for me, which others are paying for in sweat and blood.  For the first four days, I followed a scripture meditation guide from Donovan Graham and read the book above, all of which I highly recommend.  Our lives are so cluttered with input, and we try to escape emptiness with busy-ness, when what we really long for is God's presence.  So this period is an attempt to create space to hear, to know, to fill.

On Tuesday morning I started my task for the rest of the time here:  writing.  When we first arrived in Uganda in 1993 I wrote my mom and said I would never be able to keep a journal AND write letters, so would she please save the ones I sent her?  She was true to her word, and I lugged hundreds and hundreds of pages of them to Colorado. Below see them spread out in stacks from 1992 to 2010.  I spend hours a day reading through these detailed letters, and trying to distill the year's reality into a dozen pages or less.  This is for my own heart and perspective; for my kids to have a written record of their life; maybe for the all-new Bundibugyo team to be reminded of the history.  If God wants to take it further He will, but for now I am committed to simply writing.

 In the evenings I ramble, wandering the ranch as I think of the memories and pray for the people who helped make them, Ugandan friends who work steadily on, old team mates. 

I'm grateful for this time, and would appreciate prayers that God reminds me of the things that should not be forgotten, gives perspective, brings thanks and healing.  Pray also for the current team who are starting their own chapters; they meet in Fort Portal right now for vision and planning.