HOME. (on sensing and becoming a foundation of grace)

‘Home is the place where, when you have to go there,

They have to take you in.’

                                      ‘I should have called it

Something you somehow haven’t to deserve.’

Robert Frost, The Death of the Hired Man

We are home, in the house where we have spent more years than any other place on earth, the place we don't have to deserve but which embraces us. As human beings who have chosen a disrupted, dual-continent life, almost-dying and at-last-returning has brought us reflection on the meaning of belonging.

Coming back to Bundibugyo, the reality of home is this: a mutual sense of connection, of history, of loyalty, of grace. 

Over and over in the last 24 hours we have been told how hard the news of my injury was for our friends and neighbours and co-workers here, how much they prayed and hung onto messages through my critical ICU stay, how amazed they are to see us again, how it is a testimony to them of God's power and love.  I thought I was returning for my own sake, but they are telling me it is more than that. Because the nature of a home is that others embrace my loss as their own loss. Today the Christ School students sang and danced about "our Jennifer and our Scott", the chaplain Edward said "now we can breathe", a poignant phrase these days.  Yesterday a dozen old friends came to the mission and did a traditional dance with drumming and celebration, and Clovis our Bundinutrition colleague gave a brief but meaningful sermon. He compared the hard days last September to the illness of Hezekiah in Isaiah 38, when he was at the point of death and turned his face to the wall and prayed "please LORD, remember me."  The twist was, Clovis said, this was the prayer of our friends: LORD, remember us, bring them back. Wow. 

This is the nature of a long time in a somewhat insular place. Many of our greetings come in the context of people with whom we have rejoiced over pregnancies and wept over deaths; sat around homes at burials and around courtyards for meals; agonised over landslides and rebels and epidemics, cheered over tournament wins and graduations and healings. It doesn't make headlines or gather awards and followers, but it means something to people around us and to us. As long-term outsiders, we have the position of being able to connect gifts of the global community to the places in this community where they can work for the common good. Because we are eternally other, we can invest in a school that serves the marginalised rather than a project that enriches the people in power. Because we are decades-long residents, we can be a bridge.

In a reflective, post-near-death mood, these reactions remind me of another quote, this one from Kate Bowler's newest book Good Enough.  She reflects on her anxiety, when her cancer was expected to be terminal, about whether her young son would remember her, and her counsellor tells her--You are the foundation and the foundation is the part you can't see.  YES. I hope that is our life, some good solid cement and rock aggregate anchored into Jesus the cornerstone. We are not the stained glass window or the steeple. But perhaps we have enabled others to do some decent building. Staying and returning are not always the path God lays out for everyone, but ours seems to keep coming back to Bundi. And while someone else translated the Bible and started the school and planted the church and developed a local malnutrition supplement and taught literacy and helping babies breathe . . . those people can come and go for a couple of years or five or even a few for ten, because someone like us is a little firm cement to stand on. 

So we are sharing our coming home thoughts to encourage others in their plodding faithfulness. Years add up. Reality takes time. And it costs, not only in our weary disjointed souls and ageing bodies, but for our kids, moms, siblings, relatives, friends who have to put up with distance and lack of availability. We feel that more deeply after six months in the States. So thanks for letting us come back, for praying and supporting us, because it is not just good for us. It makes others feel remembered. It moves us all a little more towards the hope of a life without goodbyes.

Wold Harvest Fort Portal!

Atwoki was our first Ugandan friend: the Herrons sent him to pick us up at the airport in 1993.

Baguma and Byarufu worked for us when we were raising our kids.

John was our kids' closest neighbour and daily play-mate, and now is our key accountant and administrator.

Dr. Amon and his wife Esther have been bright stars of friends and coworkers for fifteen years at least . . . and only a short time after this photo she delivered her fifth baby premature but vigorous, PRAY FOR HIM!

The welcome crew at our house, friends and team!

McClure kids made us an artistic sign!

Masika and Melen, from the late Dr. Jonah's family, have entertwined their lives with us from Scott's first visit to Uganda.

Scott reminding the CSB students this morning of the paradox of gratitude and grief. Seriously the staff prayed for me partly because they knew losing me might risk losing Scott, he's brings ideas and stability and confidence!

With acting Head Teacher Peter Bwambale and Dean Desmond, dear friends.

Almost Home: Greetings Along the Road

From Sago . . .

To Kampala, God is Good. . 

A week ago we packed our rental car and drove from West Virginia to our nearest International Airport, Dulles. It is a legitimate observation that selecting Sago and Bundibugyo as our two homes makes no sense given our pre-COVID travel habits: one is 4.5 hours and the other 8+ hours from the airport. But the nature of home is that we are more selected than selecting. Sago is where my ancestors landed in the rural mountains where those on the margins could wrest survival from the woods and small farms, and Bundibugyo is where Ugandans who fled Amin and met a number of us in the USA eventually welcomed the peculiarity of foreigners because they saw the potential for good and truth and love in our paltry attempts to live the Gospel. Twenty-nine years later in 2022, and feeling the limitations of a post-injury pace, we tried to plan a sensible week-long journey to Bundibugyo. 

And the highlight of the week has been, and continues to be, greetings along the road. 

After mostly laying low for months of recovery, we were grateful to be able to stop and see my 91 year old Aunt Ann en route to Dulles. My dad was the youngest of 15, and Aunt Ann, the second-youngest, is the last of his siblings to remain. So it was sweet to connect with that tie to ancestry before embarking on another cross-cultural cross-continent journey.

And en route, God kindly arranged that our two hours in the connecting airport Schipol in Amsterdam would be the SAME two hours that Lilli and Patton Johnson, the two high-school aged teen kids of the late Travis, and Amy, would also be switching planes as they traveled back from Uganda. We met for breakfast and marveled at the beautiful people who had grown up from the small children we left in Bundi in 2010, and who had to leave a few years later when their dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer.  What a privilege and joy to even get a brief glimpse of the way that suffering and solid parenting and hope and grace have formed these two.

Once in Uganda, though we’ve spent 4 days in Kampala not yet Bundi, God kept bringing people for us to re-une with. Josh and Anna were on the way out for their 4th baby and 1rst girl to be delivered in late April in Florida near Josh’s family, so we enjoyed a too-short time to catch up over a couple of meals, to marvel at how just 6 months transforms kids, to thank them for stepping unexpectedly back into team leadership when we dropped out. We celebrated our long friendship and major milestones together, and we will miss them until they return after Home Assignment. 

We were also graciously welcomed by the hosts of the apartment we like to stay in in the city, the Clarkes, who came to Uganda the year we were married (about six years before we did) and have impacted medicine, politics, education, business in amazingly positive ways. Honored to know them. 

Teachers Laura and Michaela were also passing through the capital on “Spring Break” with Laura’s visiting parents, whom we had met at their home in Seattle once and were happy to see again on this side of the ocean. It is so meaningful to our community to see family visit our team. 

And of course team mates make regular trips to the capital for legal issues like immigration and licensure (we spent two days in the tedious process of renewing our medical license) or for some specialty shopping (we also stocked up on cheese and medicine) but we also have Ugandan friends who come to Kampala for studies and work. Dr. Isaiah continues in his second of three years of a Paediatrics Masters (what we call residency in America).

    

Ivan we saw in Mitiyana, where he has completed a post-nursing degree internship year and awaits licensure registration. Thankfully the hospital asked him to keep working, as he proved himself hard-working and competent in his internship.

The surprise of the week though was the Isingoma family.  Christine and Edward Isingoma live in Hoima, in the NW of Uganda, but maintain a home in Kampala for their kids and visits, and were in town briefly for a burial of an in-law. Isingoma called Scott and we met in town for “coffee” which turned into a party to thank God for preserving my life and giving us a long friendship . . . they brought four of their young adult children and one grandchild, which was delightful. In 1993, a few months after our arrival, it turned out that our team had to be gone for Christmas for various reasons except the newbies, and this family embraced us for our first holiday, inviting us with baby Luke into their hospital housing at Nyahuka Health center to feast with them. Many times in the ensuing decades we have worked together, most notably when Christ School was imploding on Dr. Travis mentioned above and we asked Isingoma to help us by returning to Bundibugyo as a temporary head teacher, an assignment that dragged into years and cost him personally but blessed the community and us. Now he’s a senior political, cultural, church leader and Christine runs a primary school, and their children are artists and lawyers and accountants and parents, and honestly in the world there are few friends with whom we have more in  common. So it was  an unexpected treat to see them.

I am typing this in the car as potholes jar my keyboard, heading west to Bundibugyo. More reunions await, with more of our “foster sons” along the way and back in the district, more or our team in Fort Portal, and then the real reuning time in Bundibugyo. I feel uncomfortably unworthy of the attention, doubting that my own bike-riding ineptitudes which nearly killed me qualify me for such kind attention from all these people along the way. But I also see that the accident and absence have just peeled back the layer of what is always there and true for all of us: we are loved, by God and a unique community of humans. That love may remain hidden enough to cause us doubts, but then a tragic event allows clarity. So we continue to return, each encounter paradoxically exhausting and invigorating, trying to be sensible but faith.  

____

And since all of this is happening in a world context we can't forget or ignore, war and disease, courage and tragedy . . we leave you with Bono's Saint Patrick's day poem:

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...)

People real to us in Ukraine

 

Last summer, our Bundibugyo Team hosted four summer interns.  We don’t typically have international interns, but we did last year - a Ukrainian woman, let’s call her Sarah to protect her privacy.

Our interns thrived for their 2 months in Bundibugyo, despite the limitations caused by the COVID pandemic. They couldn’t do the home visits or overnights or Christ School ministry which our interns so often do, but they threw themselves into relationships with our neighbors, with team families, and with some emergency relief work as well. They were a pleasure.

So, the crisis in Ukraine has taken on a personal face for our Bundibugyo Team.  Where is Sarah and her family? What are their plans? Are they safe?

While not huge social media activists ourselves, we do have IG and FB — and, not surprisingly, that’s the best way to communicate with a millennial refugee. Today we got this message:

We drove to the border and then waited in the line for 17 hours to cross over. My mum is also with us….We stayed all night long in the line, outside with all women and children, who are also leaving the country  We are so thankful for all the prayers! God has lifted up our spirits even when we were physically and emotionally exhausted. Sometimes there were so many people. And the crowd led some to fall unconscious. Thank God we got over the border safely. Today my hometown (where my father is now) was bombed. Thankfully nobody was injured. Thank you and all the team for the prayers!

We heard a political commentator today who described Putin as having gone “full-Hitler.” This is a tragic situation and it’s affecting real people.  Sarah is the only one we know, but it has made the situation very real to us and I hope that by sharing a tidbit of her story, it might feel more real to a few of you out there.  

Like Russia and Ukraine, we are all vulnerable to devolving into dehumanizing our neighbor as wrong, different, "other", to the point of causing them harm to "protect" our own interests. The proximity of a summer of working together gives us a glimpse of Ukraine as God sees it, full of brave, hard-working, humor-loving, smart people who just want to live their lives. Our hearts are heavy for Sarah, her family and our world. And as people who imitate Jesus, let us soberly support every effort to bring peace and freedom back to Ukraine, and to love our close-by neighbors too. 

a little good news

So, we returned this week to WVU for the results of Jennifer's battery of neuro-pyschologic tests which she did last week. The first thing our PsyD said (the one who scores and interprets all the tests) was "Let me put you at ease - this is all pretty good news."

As Jennifer and I have debriefed this visit with a few people, Jennifer likes to say, "Scott heard the good news - and I heard the bad news."

So, yes, there are some areas where Jennifer struggled a bit. Dexterity with her right hand - due to injury in the parietal region of her brain. Her short term memory is not what is was. She said, "Yes, there are mild residual cognitive deficits which is very much in line with the nature of the traumatic bleeding..."

But the vast majority of the results were stellar.  

"Your have great spatial skills - perfect." 

"Verbal: your ability to find your words and get them out perfectly fine."

"Your reasoning skills are absolutely superb."

"Your ability to focus amid distraction - really really good." 

"You have good insight."

"You are only four months out and we know you will continue to get better over time."

Bottom line - she has demonstrated a fantastic level of recovery. This evaluation has given us confidence that she is functioning at a level that allows her to safely re-engage with her work as a pediatrician and as a manager of people in our mission. 

Thanks to all of you who have prayed for her.

At this point, she has been given a green light to think about returning to Uganda this spring. We have begun to think through the possibilities and considerations. We hope to correspond with a travel agent soon. There are many things to think about. And, of course, we are thinking of all the people we haven't seen since her injury. Omicron has made it so difficult for us to see people. It's distressing, but we feel like it has been the responsible thing to do.

Prayer request: wisdom as we consider the timing of our return to Uganda, discernment about what our work schedule will look like as we seek to balance responsibilities leading the Uganda Team, our Africa Area (ten teams!), and clinical work in the hospital.  We do NOT intend to have Jennifer resume her work life as it looked pre-September-6th! The hospital work is the place that will be the slowest ramp up.

So, prayer warriors unite! We need a lot of prayer. Bundibugyo is a tough place to live with a lot of needy people and problems. We've been living lives of relative comfort and few demands. No one is knocking on our door with severe medical problems. There are no buses which are hooting their horns beginning at 4:45am. There are no mosques blaring their calls to prayer while it is still dark. But we do desire to get back in the saddle and re-engage with our life in Uganda. We know it will not be easy--but it is that unique place where we find an intersection between our hearts and the needs of a broken world.

Stay tuned

 January has been full of challenges.

We discovered that our furnace here at our farm in WVa died during trip away. Thankfully, our wood stove and firewood stockpile allowed us to survive until a new furnace could be installed--but not before the pvc pipes in the bathroom wall froze and burst- resulting in a week without showering. But all's well that ends well.

This past week, Jennifer followed up with the neuro-ophthalmologist at WVU who gave a good report. He documented continued improvement in extra ocular movements and reduction in size of her dilated pupil. Most importantly, he definitively stated that corrective surgery for her eye muscles will not be necessary. He recommended a routine follow-up appointment in 6 months - which basically means she's doing well and nothing more to do except an occasional check-in visit. Her eye is not normal, but as the nurse helpfully stated, it's live-able. Yes. 

Friday, Jennifer endured four hours of rigorous and exhausting testing - cognitive, memory, coordination. "I'm going to read you a list of 20 words, repeat back as many as you can remember." Then 5 minutes later during another exercise - "Hey, repeat as many of those 20 words back again." Again 30 minutes later. "Here's a list of random numbers - now repeat them back to me; now repeat them back to me in reverse order; now repeat them back to me in numerical order." "Now - here are three letters: B, W, Q. Repeat them. Now serially subtract 3 from 81." In the middle of that serial subtraction exercise she taps on the desk and she must repeat the three letters. Now here are three different letters and a new number to start the serial subtraction. Go. And on and on.

Four hours of that. It will take some days for the exam to be scored and evaluated. We must return next week to receive the results and recommendation. Please pray for that visit. That she can receive the results with humility and grace.

Meanwhile, we are fully engaged with our work as Area Directors. We had a week of meetings with our Area Directors in the second week of January (Zoom). We have regular zoom call with those we supervise in Uganda, Kenya, Burundi, DRC, and Malawi. We've been helping work through some of the complicated issues with the Christ School-Bundibugyo restart. While we wait for these results--we're busy!

There and back again

 On December 7th, we embarked on a cross-country journey in our white Tacoma (affectionately known to the  family as “ShadowFax”, the trusty steed of Gandalf the Gray—that’s me) to spend Christmas with our kids and my mom (Nana). Why drive 6550 miles in winter? Well, primarily to stay “COVID-safe” in this crazy time of Omicron. We avoided airports, restaurants, and non-family human encounters as much as possible.

For many legs of this journey, we felt like hobbits trying to fulfill a quest. We began within hours of the terrible tornadoes in Kentucky. From Denver, we headed north to drive around the steepest peaks of the Rockies on I-80 West—only to find it closed—and then turned around and drove over the steep Loveland and Vail Passes, our 8 hour day turning to 15.  But we passed over and though to Salt Lake City.

We hiked, talked, and drank bottomless cups of coffee with our kids—until it was time to head west again to spend an extra week with my mom, picking her up in California and bringing her back to SLC for Christmas. But again, ShadowFax was pushed to her limits. Winds in western Utah blew over 18-wheelers. Ice and blowing snow in western Nevada caused others to jack-knife into the ditch. And a blizzard in the Donner Pass (famous for stranding early settlers in the 1840s) threatened to impede us. But, as they say in Uganda — we reached.  

Christmas in Salt Lake City was magical. Fresh snow provided gorgeous backdrops for our dog walks and skiing outings. We spent three nights on the slopes of Alta above Salt Lake City—with enough food for a month (just in case). Homemade lasagne (homemade noodles and all), our traditional Norwegian White Dinner on Christmas Eve (all the food is white), then steaks, fresh sourdough cinnamon rolls, and French cassoulet. What a celebration!

But we were nearly stranded again as a foot of fresh powder fell on the night before our departure—so we shored up the hooves of ShadowFax with chains—and galloped out beautifully.

So, many times these last three weeks, I’ve felt fearful.  Fear that we wouldn’t make it. That our precious time with our family would be cut short or lost. Fear on the top of the mountain that I might not ski to the base without injury. Fear that I might collide with another vehicle on icy roads. All legitimate fears.

In Scott Erikson’s Honest Advent, in the final chapter he posits this statement: Be Not Afraid could be a legitimate substitution for Merry Christmas. For Christmas is Immanuel—God with Us. Why should we fear?

As we enter 2022, there are so many threats looming—threats to our lives and health, threats to democracy, there threats to our goals and dreams, threats to our communities, churches and families, threats to our very planet. In Serge, every year, our Leadership Team does a SWOT analysis (strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats). The strengths and weakness are internal; the opportunities and threats are external. The threats lead to fear, and the more we love that which seems threatened (i.e. connecting with kids!)  . . . the harder is to overcome them with faith and courage. 

Erickson ends with this: Today, let our fears be the starting place of divine connection…Let us not be afraid, for Love has drawn near.

Advent Resources 2021

 

What we're reading devotionally this December...

1.Our Favorite...the online Advent devotional series put out every year by Biola University.  This year they are focusing on the Christmas Canticles (you must go to the devotions to learn what that means)...it is an amazing combination of visual art, music, poetry and devotional reflection. We look forward to this every year--and here's a bonus--they have a series for Lent too!

Here's the link

https://ccca.biola.edu/advent/2021/

2. Second fav, is a book by Scott Erikson called Honest Advent.

There's a Kindle version available on Amazon HERE.

A poignant quote from one of the early devotions...

May you receive the light of divine annunciation in the flames of your best-laid plans.

3. And last, an Advent devotional from Kate Bowler (author of No Cure for Being Human)

Download from her website for free HERE.

Be that one leper

 

As Jennifer and I have entered Thanksgiving week, we have been inspired by the season to be in touch with those who helped save her life 11-plus weeks ago. We know how rare and meaningful it is to see the patient who was nearly dead, now able to walk and speak words of appreciation. So in the last week, we visited both the Emergency Medical Services crew (ambulance) and the Helicopter crew that were called to Sago Road on Labor Day. Thanks to West Virginia small town spirit and can-do, she also was connected by phone to two of the passers-by who stopped and called 911 and waited with her on the road. Without exception, each vividly remembered the day, the injury, the severity. And each expressed thankfulness to God to see her alive and nearly well. 

We listened to a Trinity Forum (ttf.org) presentation over the weekend on Gratitude and the presenter challenged us to be thankful “to” (someone) this Thanksgiving rather than our traditional habit of being thankful “for” (some thing). This Thanksgiving we have a long list of those TO WHOM we express our thanks:

-to the kind drivers who saw Jennifer lying on the road and stopped to help and didn’t run away from the blood and sorrow

-to the skilled and faithful people who were doing holiday duty and responded to the 911 call

-to our organization (Serge) that provides for us and allows us time to heal, and colleagues who stepped into the gap to take up our work

-to those who mobilised prayer and communicated love - and to those who prayed

-to all in our family who came to be with and support us

-and to God who has been our Rock and Refuge.

Gratitude in the midst of grief has been our theme this month. That is true of life every month, but our cups are especially overflowing with both this month.

Thankful for all of you who follow, read and pray. Happy Thanksgiving.