Celebrating Fall

The glories of October:  brilliant leaves, crisp sunshine, and kids home from college.  Sabbatical is about many things, thanking supporters, speaking, recruiting, rest.  But right up there in the list is the sacrament of the present moment, the grasping of grace in this one point in time which will not come again, when Julia turns 19, when Jack is half-way through his first semester, when Luke recovers from surgery while studying the same.  So we pause to celebrate Fall.  To be thankful for trees, for homework at the kitchen table, for friends from Africa stopping in, for baking, for full laundry lines.  For being part of the pay-it-forward as so many have welcomed our children in the past, so we could have kids from Istanbul (Turkey), Houston (Texas), Santa Cruz (California), and Scotland/Kenya all converging.  Hikes, card games, working on the pizza oven project, shooting skeet, driving the tractor, ATV's, writing papers, watching movies, making cookies, telling stories.  And even, on the long drive back, a stop at the longest or highest single arch bridge in the Western Hemisphere at New River Gorge (engineers on a field trip).  Well worth the nearly 800 mile round trip, twice, a 13-hour day for Scott and then another one for me to pick up and drop off our Dukies.  The glories of October.

Who does the REAL Work at Serge?

Last week we were asked to spend a day at the Serving Center, aka Sending Center, aka Home Office, so that we could interact with the Board.  Our Board time was scheduled later in the afternoon, so we had most of the day to greet and meet with the nerve center of our organization.  Since I rarely see them, I thought there might be others out there who would like to put faces to names and get a glimpse of the work that keeps us all alive and well.

First, we met with Meredith, the Member Care leader, and Sandi, at their home.  Many of those who work in the SC live nearby, and Meredith was kind enough to meet with us in spite of being about to leave for a family funeral.  He has help from Sarah, Debbie, Dianne, and Elizabeth, but not ENOUGH help to be the one keeping his finger on the pulse of the well-being of so many workers.  We are a team-based structure, so the primary member care comes from the interactions on the team, as our friendships lend each other support.  But we're grateful that Meredith lends his wisdom and attention particularly in areas of great struggle and need.  I forgot to snap a photo . . . until we went to the office.

This is the entrance to our building:  professional with a floral touch.

 Up to the third floor, and down a hall . . .

  . . and into the door, where Ginny is the face of Serge.  Welcoming, charming, warm, gracious, and probably the person who most knows what in the world is going on.

 Karen and Clare (below left), along with Caitlyn (below right), are the women behind-the-scenes.  They juggle schedules and communication for Bob, Josiah, and Marc, the executive leadership team.  Everything we take for granted, they actually DO.

Anita is the face of Human Resources, meaning she handles all the health care benefits, answers questions, looks over documents, and that particular day was letting her office be a playroom for a visiting kid.  She has been our hero this week getting kids' surgical bills paid.

Patric leads GRN, our publishing and discipling arm, creating resources for discipleship and managing a team that gets the Gospel into people's hands. I caught sightings of Lindsey, Stu, and Jeff but wasn't quick enough with my camera to capture much of this team.

But we did catch Lynnette, who is the newest team member, and will be key in making the GRN resources available as she works to administer this department.



With our goal of nearly doubling in size by 2020, it is not surprising that Mobilization buzzes with activity, taking up most of one of the three corridors.  Matt, pictured below left with Stephanie, exudes creativity and wisdom and the kind of confidence and flexibility (notice him holding a meeting from on top of a filing cabinet) that makes one believe this COULD actually happen.  Stephanie is also one of the newer hires, yet another competent woman who is serving all of us well.

 

Chrissy is a supervisor in the Mobilization department, but was once on the Bundi team, and our area had also contributed Phil and Joanna (who are not pictured as they work from home) to Mobilization. 

Recruitment, growth, Board meetings, health care, communication . . . none of that would happen without Dwight and Jerry, the finance department.  Here they are sorting out some sticky situations with students and tuition that we have thrown their way too many times.  These guys have our back, literally, and they are so cheerful about all the work we cause them.   I missed seeing Charlotte, who spends countless hours on expense reports too.

Now for the three you probably THINK of in the Serving Center.  Josiah, Marc, and Bob were all pretty busy with the Board's visit.  They are the executive leadership who pray and pursue the mission and vision of our organization, and draw us all along.

And because it was the Board meeting day, let me also encourage us to thank our Board.  These men and women take their own time and energy to travel, to listen, to pore over reports, to hold us accountable.  The relationship between Bob and the Board is one of our greatest strengths.  It was our privilege to present the Africa Area report to them, representing our field.

There we sat down and wept

By the waters of Babylon

there we sat down and wept

when we remembered Zion.

On the willows there

we hung up our lyres . . 

How shall we wing the LORD's song

in a foreign land?

This Psalm came to mind this morning as we life up the people of Mundri, South Sudan, in prayer.

For those who are following the story, four years ago the country gained independence from the Northern Khartoum government with celebration, hope, energy, expectation that after decades of war the people would at last know peace.  Our team was there, and redoubled efforts in training primary school teachers, theology students, agriculturalists, health workers.  Mundri is a cross-roads trading town, settled by industrious independent people who maintain gardens, care for their kids, offer hospitality, and worship God.  We work with the Episcopal Church of Sudan, the primary denomination in the area, sharing office space and a living compound with Bishop Bismarck's family.

Fast forward to six months ago when the fragile, oft-disturbed peace deteriorated precipitously.  Our team came out for our Africa Field Retreat and has not been able to return, except for a brief trip to bring aid and encourage friends.  People have intermittently fled from their homes then tentatively moved back.  The economy is crashing, tribalistic fears of annihilation or loss of territory lead to violence, and every time the elders scramble to try and bring people to the table for dialogue the process seems to be hijacked by the rash actions of local militias and the military both.

But even that uneasy balance has now plummeted into all-out internal disaster.  In the last week, all of the news has gone from bad to worse.  The local militia called the "arrow boys" and the SPLA state-sponsored-official-army have attacked not only each other, but also targeted civilians.  The town emptied into the vast territory of deserted scrub-land, walking, hobbling, sheltering under trees, searching for food and drinkable water.  This is rainy season, which means malaria explodes, particularly when people are sleeping outside, and are weak.  For the first few days people clustered within walking distance, contacting each other by cell phone, waiting for peace.  Then helicopters appeared opening fire, and tanks shot missiles into buildings.  Some civilians have now made their way to other towns, as far away as Yei.  One friend of the church delivered a baby under a tree on the second or third night.  Another was killed by the arrow boys as she was suspected of being an informer to the SPLA.  Our team got news of the church buildings being destroyed and looted, and everything being stolen from their homes.

Larissa (formerly a Serger in Mundri) sent out this photo from happier times, of Mama V and her family in happier days past, which particularly grabbed my heart because we have met her more than once on our own visits to Mundri.  They are one of the few groups we know made it to Yei.

A few days ago, another former Serger Scott sent this message out from one of his friends, before all the phone batteries died:  "He said two things: 1. Greet everyone. 2. Please tell everyone to keep on praying for us, the situation is very bad. Don't forget us. We can not forget you."

So yesterday as I prayed for these friends, I thought about the small taste of running-for-your-life-from-war we had many years ago.  I was pregnant (not that I knew it yet), carrying 9-month-old Julia,  while Scott had 2-year-old Caleb, and 4-year-old Luke alternated running on his own and being helped by a pre-med student who was a few days into a summer internship is now an academic physician working in Tanzania.  So here are some prayers from my heart, remembering those times and grieving for our Sudanese family:
1.  To meet kindness along the way.  Being given space over a cooking fire, and porridge, was huge.
2.  To get reliable information.  Rumors abound, no one knows what direction is safe.  People on the run need information to make decisions.
3.  To gain enough attention for life-sustaining aid.  We focused on that once we escaped long ago.  Our team has already raised some funds, and is in discussion for the best way to be a stop-gap quick-response link in the slower moving chain of international relief response.  This link takes you to the page for that fund.
4.  For the rest and nutrition they need to ward off disease.  Dysentery really wiped us out on the run. The people of Mundri will be very very vulnerable to malaria, measles, cholera, etc.
5.  For justice to return.  In our case, the army restored peace by chasing the rebels back over the border.  In Mundri, this is much more complex.  The lines between good and evil are not clearly associated with one group or the other.  So much fear. Opportunities for looting mean more and more loss.  Suspicion.  Gary Haugen writes in The Locust Effect that violence plagues the poor in cycles that make development almost impossible.  This book is one of the most influential ones I have read in the last year (thanks to LB).  Long term solutions in South Sudan seem very far away, and too many children will not live to see that day.
6.  For the displaced to find comfort in the reminder of Emmanuel, God with us.  Jesus ran for his life as a baby.  The people of God have been plagued by war, by looting, by displacement.  We have a high priest who has known our suffering.  Evil has been defeated but God mercifully allows for a subtle slow eradication, that many might choose life.  Pray for the people of Mundri to cry out honestly about their needs, and to meet the comfort of Jesus in their suffering.

A tale of two dogs, Or the beauty and pain of fostering

Words to live by from Deuteronomy:  You shall not see your brother's ox or his sheep going astray and ignore them.  You shall take them back to your brother.  And if he does not live near you and you do not know who he is, you shall bring it home to your house and it shall stay with you until your brother seeks it.  Then you shall restore it to him. . . (22:1-4)

Perhaps if we focused more on some of these laws the world would be a gentler place.

A couple of weeks ago, this happened to us, twice.  The first dog was a little female chihuahua/corgi-ish mix whom we termed an unlikely angel as she appeared just as my book was published, a peculiar life-imitates-art coincidence.  We called her Sparky (angels as flames of fire, and a literary reference to Roald Dahl), fed her, and let her get into our life and heart.  When no one responded to the notices we put up on lost pet sites, and no neighbors responded to our search for her owners, we took her to the vet to get dewormed and immunized and to confirm our suspicion that she was pregnant.  While there, we met the Claws and Whiskers Rescue service, who offered to keep her while we were out of town.  And when we returned four days later, lo and behold, she was the mother of two puppies, all healthy and settled into their new foster home.  The vet worker who took her in didn't want her moved again so soon, i.e. I think they were quite attached.  While we knew this was for the best, and knew we were traveling way too much to be responsible dog owners this year, we were pretty sad driving back to our house.


Until the next morning, when a second dog appeared in the very same porch chair.

A male this time, at least part-scottish-terrier looking dog.  We had seen him when Sparky first appeared, but he had hung back in the edges of the woods, run away when approached, and she had barked him off once. So we thought he may have found his way back or on, but there he was, looking bedraggled, weak, and defeated.  Scott coaxed him into eating a little bit, and we let him sleep, and fed him again, small increments like a malnourished baby.  In 48 hours he was coming back to life, scampering, following us around.  Maybe the father of Sparky's babies, we thought, maybe both were dumped out of a car by people who couldn't handle having pets anymore, or didn't want the puppies around.  We called our new rescue friends and they wanted us to bring him in right away.  Reluctantly, we brought him too, and this time it was just one loss too many.  We grieved out of proportion for a stray dog and a short acquaintance.

Because when you find something, you feel responsible.  When you watch life return, you get drawn in.  Helplessness calls out caring.  Response begins to spin cords of attachment.  Which works great when it's your newborn baby for whom you will lay down your life for the next few decades and beyond.  But it's a cruel stab when you are just a step along the way for someone else's pet, let alone child.  When you are called to foster and restore.

So this post is a shout-out to my cousin Sandy and our new friends Teri and Christy and all the solidly good and kind people out there who nurse animals back to health and find them homes.  And an even bigger shout-out to the people who foster children, you know who you are.  I hope this doesn't sound flippant to them, but dropping off those little dogs was just a tiny tiny inkling of the risk they take.  Bringing in children, loving them in all their skinny dirty wildness, adjusting patterns and bonding, only to possibly help them reunite with someone else must be the hardest job in the world.  Being a step along the way in someone else's story takes courage.  I suppose we taste it in the hospital too, pouring life into fragile beings, bonding, and saying goodbye, but having a baby in your home is a quantum-leap harder.

Sparky and Scotty gave us a chance to remember why we have had three dogs over the last 21-year-stretch, and to practice a little bit of Old Testament practical kindness.  We heard that Scotty already has a new family, and Sparky will when the puppies are ready.  That's good, and sad.

The New Trailer

Just out...the trailer for A Chameleon, A Boy and A Quest.

It's a 2min YouTube video produced by the ever-talented Elizabeth Fisher.

You can Watch The Trailer by clicking HERE!!

You can order the book Here (New Growth Press) or Here (Amazon) !!

Enjoy!

Click this image to read an on-line interview with Jennifer 

about raising kids as Servant Leaders.

OCTOBER

October 4-6:  Philadelphia (Serge Board Meeting), including breakfast with Acacia the illustrator and Barbara the publisher of A Chameleon, A Boy, and A Quest on the official release date Oct 6!

October 7-13:  Visitors in Sago, including J and J for Fall Break Weekend

October 24-25:  Baltimore, speaking at Faith Christian Fellowship.

October 26:  Speaking at the Christian Medical and Dental Association fellowship meeting at UVA.

October 27-Nov 1:  Speaking at the Serge Vision Summit in Florida.

Prayers appreciated as we interact with people, that we would communicate God's heart for this world.  We're recruiting desperately for missionary-kid teachers, an experienced school administrator, pastoral team leaders, and just about any flavor of medicine or engineering.

In between all that, there is studying, writing, corresponding, virtual meetings, and farm work (turning fallen trees into winter heat).  And for those who followed the little dog story, the vet confirmed she is very pregnant, we got her immunized and dewormed, and a kind volunteer is caring for her as we travel this weekend, but she still needs a home with someone who is not gone as much as the schedule above.  Thanks.

Why Guns?

A few months ago, we held a retreat for all our Africa-based teams, on the coast in Kenya.  As I planned, I was asked often about safety.  Kenya is on a travel-restriction list from the USA, due to the repeated terrorism of groups like Al Shabbab.  So I did a bit of math, and realized that statistically one was more likely to be shot in an American school than anywhere in Kenya.  

That sobering reality hit the news again this week.  Another school, another shooter, another group of lives interrupted irrevocably.

The President spoke last night with frustration, emotion, and conviction.  It is hard to imagine anyone objecting to a president who reacts to the senseless death of young people, but people did, as if the world depended upon Americans owning more guns, with fewer restrictions.  Why?

I suppose living for a couple of decades on the outside changes one's perspective.  In Africa we struggle against death.  Death by malaria and hunger.  Death by obstructed labor and hemorrhage.  Death by horribly unsafe roads and reckless drivers.  And occasionally, death by armed conflict.  We have mentally ill people, too many, with too few resources.  Sometimes they harm themselves, or one or two others.  But we don't have non-combatants buying assault weapons, semi-automatic rifles, concealed pistols, high-caliber ammo.  We don't have depressed and isolated young people walking into schools and killing their peers.  We don't have average citizens deciding to take out dozens of random strangers for no reason.  Or perhaps we have citizens who want to but they would never access the means.  When Kenyans died in a school, it was an act of war, horrible and evil and dealt with militarily.  No one shrugged their shoulders and said "not much we can do about terrorists."

I don't know the answer to this madness, but I wish we could have a rational discussion.  Why do so many people feel threatened by the possibility of laws about guns that would be considered NORMAL in most of the world?  Why is it so controversial to require background checks so that guns are not sold to people with criminal records or mental illness?  Who is making so much money from the way things are that they resist change?  True confession: my family has always owned guns.  They are locked in a safe, and used for target shooting.  My relatives go hunting.  These guns shoot slowly and laboriously.  They are not subtle.  They are also relatively low-impact, so you would have to aim very well to cause damage.  They could still be used in domestic violence; they could still claim the life of a child if not stored with care.  But it would be difficult to use this kind of hunting weapon in a school.  And if it would help keep children everywhere safe, wouldn't we gladly forgo any further sport shooting? Even though we own guns, I am very ready to listen to evidence-based arguments for limits to gun ownership.  Limits to who can own guns, or what type. I know that people kill people, but they can kill a lot more people more efficiently with a gun.  Given the fact that there are mentally ill people, and evil people, shouldn't we try to limit their access to weapons of mass destruction?  Why does anyone need to shoot a .50 caliber gun, or carry a concealed one?  Can anyone possibly think this issue is about defending our country from tyranny?

My book came out this week, and in some ways a children's story seems a world removed from a school shootings and vitriolic politics.  But a gun figures prominently in the saddest chapter of this book too.  Because isolation distorts thinking, and allows evil to grow unchecked.  Because we need community and the power of hope and a different story lest we risk our young men, and women, falling back on the easy solution of violence to their problems.  Because we need to talk, and stories let us open the discussion, why guns?