wanderings/wonderings

I guess I have to stop waiting for stand-out stories and just begin telling it as it is. Ruudy and I just came back from the village in Morungatuny today. Francis and I had done several community assessments before as I described on a previous post (I'd put the link here if I knew how) and so we let Ruudy try it out this time. As he was sitting there asking questions in Ateso, I let my mind begin to wander a bit. As I carefully studied the women and children who sat before us, I tried to put myself in their shoes or lack there of actually. There were two women who were around 40 years somewhere, then there was an especially old lady sitting behind a ways, then there were some of these ladies' daughters with their own children. I looked at their arms, as thick as a man's. Speaking of men, where were they? hmm...anyway, back to the arms, strengthened over years of lugging water from the well, collecting firewood, planting food, weeding, harvesting food, and carrying food to the weekly market. I then looked around at the trees, and the rest of the landscape thinking, this is all they know. They rarely leave their village, there is no electricity, no running water, no how-to manuel, village living for dummies...not there... how do you dream of something you don't even know exists? How can I say I want to be a chiropractor when I grow up when I don't even know that such a thing is even a possibility? and is it even a possibility? The chances for a girl in this village to even finish grade school is so low, then if she can make it in to secondary, will she be able to complete? And if she does complete, is she really equipped enough to think about university in the big city? And if by the grace of God she finishes university, will she really find a job?
Sitting there amongst the ladies and the huts, I began to really wonder how they manage life, and what is life for them? Do they have a longing to go out and see the world, or because they don't know what's out there, there's no desire. Do they think that the rest of the world is just like their place? And where the heck do these white folk come from and why? And somehow without an Iphone, an Ipod, or an Ipad, these ladies are able to survive.  Are they any worse than anyone else? Any better? I guess they are who they are, and so am I. This blog has no ending, it just keeps asking questions? What questions do you have?

cherubim

Enter in.

Holy of Holies.

Cherubim.

Guarding the mercy seat for eternity.

One at each end.

One with the mercy seat.

Wings stretched up toward heaven.

Facing each other.

Facing the seat.

They wait.

With great anticipation.

They wait.

For the One whose blood would finally satisfy the King.

Every year a man, with the blood of animal.

To satisfy the wrath of the King.  

Cherubim watching.

Blood poured out.

Gazing at each other anxiously.

Awaiting a day.

The day.

When blood would be shed for the last time. 

Gazing at each other.

At the mercy seat.

Year after year.

Sacrifice after sacrifice.

Waiting for the adoption of the sons.

The complete redemption of creation.

Waiting, groaning, longing, praising, loving, gazing

Until He comes.

Finally.

He comes.

Finally.

The One whose blood put an end to all other sacrifices.

As His body was rent, so also He rent the veil.

The curtain.

The wall.

The separation of man from God.

We are invited in.

Led into the King’s chambers.

Joining the Cherubim.

We take our place.

The edge of the mercy seat.

We turn our gaze.

From each other to the seat.

The ultimate sacrifice.

We gaze at the seat. 

Love manifested.

Eyes opened to the Way. 

So deeply. So truly. So wholly.

Loved.  

We turn our gaze.

To each other.

It is for each of us.

No one left behind.

Each person called.

The edge of the mercy seat.

Each deserves our love.

We love because He first loved us.

Looking at one another.

Eyes of love.

Encouraging each other.

Staying connected.

To each other.

To the mercy seat.

How deep the Father’s love.

Connected to that seat.

Of mercy.

Of Love.

Of Grace.

Poured in. Poured out.

We gaze upon lit faces.

Our arms are lifted high.

Reaching for our King.

Longing for Him to return.

In all His glory.

Surrendering all of ourselves.

To all of Him.

We’re holding on for life.

There’s no other place.

One with the mercy seat.

One with this Heart of Grace.

King of Kings.

We gaze at each other.

Great expectation.

Our King will return.

Calling us to Himself.

Once and for all.

We are here.

Holding on. Held on to.

Encouraging. Encouraged.

Reaching toward heaven. Embraced by heaven.

Waiting, groaning, longing, praising, loving, gazing.

Until He comes again.

Ex 25:19, 20 and Heb 9-10

a thousand words

In no particular order, a few pictures from the last couple months. I'm hoping the whole "a picture is worth a thousand words" thing, covers for my delinquency in posting of the last several months...that's like 7,000 words, that seems like a lot, it might just work...

We hope you enjoy.

With our parents after the wedding, the precious lady
on the right is Ruudy's aunt Hellen who helped raise him, whom we call mommy,
she went to be with her Savior the 1st of May

Praying for Ruudy just before the wedding

At Tunyi Falls looking for land for a transformation center

The men a week before the wedding

One week before marriage

Ruudy, Betty and Musa playing Ludo

On the honeymoon near Fort Portal

married

We had a beautiful wedding and a short reception due to the blessing of rain. I know so many people were not able to come, due to the distance, who would have loved to be there. So first I want to say thank you for all of your support and encouragement from near and far. I think I will write about the wedding in our next newsletter.
I wish I could write a reflection on married life, but as I think of what to write, I don't know where to begin. Somehow it doesn't even seem real yet. Months of preparation and then it's over in a matter of seconds, I do, I do. We did, and now we're two become one, just like that.
I think the hardest thing must be unmet expectations. I expect certain things that I may or may not verbally express and he also has his expectations. And then to make it more confusing, i can assume what his expectations are and he mine, and cause even more confusion and doubt.
Like in my mind, I find myself allowing the enemy to discourage me, thinking thoughts like, I know he would probably be happier if he had married a Ugandan woman who would treat him like lord & master and do whatever he says. I know it's a lie and sometimes it takes time before I dismiss it as such. And my loving Father keeps calling me to Himself, telling me to trust Him. And Ruudy is being so supportive also and reassuring me of his love. It amazes me how I can feel so strong in my identity as a child of the King one minute and then have such superficial doubts the next (I may blame it on my womanly cycle though I don't have sufficient proof).
All that to say I am learning and though to be honest have gotten discouraged at my own poor thoughts, I press on. I know that I have the mind of Christ, and He is renewing my mind day by day. I don't live as someone who has no hope. I have hope.

a reflection of self

Wow, I waited too long and now where do I really begin? hmmm. I guess I'll begin with myself. Sounds selfish, but it's something which I've been learning so much more about as of late. I think it's easy to come to Africa, be overwhelmed and go home be overwhelmed and get over it. It's also easy to come to Africa, be overwhelmed, stay for a long time and allow your heart to become hard or remain hard. It's a common struggle amongst long term missionaries, experience so much pain, then not know what to do with it, so stuff it down somewhere in the cracks of an ever hardening stone heart. We are human beings and somehow in the midst of all of the pain and over abundance of work, (surely we live in a fallen world desperate for a Savior), we become human doings. Maybe it's so we don't take the time to consider the pain that has so deeply penetrated so many of us. If we run from one hurting soul to the next, if we pack our days so full of activity we won't have time to really face the ugliness, the wretchedness of the sin that is destroying so many lives, and could even be slowly ebbing away at our own.  It's only over the last few months, that my eyes have been opened, and more importantly, my heart has been softened by our loving Father, who works in us as much as we can handle. I think I've cried more in the last four months than most of my life put together. I'm learning more completely what it means to suffer with those who are suffering and rejoice with those who are rejoicing. I guess you could say I'm becoming less productive, in order that I may take the time to really feel, and to really hand the burden over to our Father, spending less time talking at God, and more time listening to His heart and how He's moving in the lives of His precious children. So though I may see myself as less productive these days, I'm trusting Father that it's for the best, that He's working things out in me, allowing my heart of stone to become flesh again and experience Him in a new and deep way. I've learned I can work 24hrs a day here, there's always some crisis that I could be a apart of solving, but actually I can be even more productive if I spend more time just listening, listening to Papa and listening to His children, moving with the triumphant Lion of Judah and the tender Lamb, rather than running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. You see the chicken eventually dies and makes a mess in the process, but the Lion, He's eternal and loves rebuilding lives, and though it can get messy He ultimately cleanses us to the depths. Thank you Jesus. So though it's hardest to come to Africa, be overwhelmed, and continue to have a soft and feeling heart, we have a loving Savior who pours His living water into our hearts and continues to bring healing and restoration, and it's easy to enjoy being with Him, He's the protector of our hearts, and He does a much better job than the stone that eventually crumbles.

abilities, gifts & strengths

So I finally began the assessments in Achele Village that I've been trying to begin for what seems like two or three months now. It's supposed to be an assessment from a strengths point of view, like what assets and strengths are there in the community that we can build on and use to help transform the community. That being said, it's rare that I've been more frustrated any time in this country more than during these assessments. My goal is to do 25, and I've done 8 so far. On Saturday, Francis and I planned to try to get at least 10 of them done, if not 20, but after just three we were finished. We both head aches and promised ourselves we would not go out again unless we'd had some proper feeding and our minds were able to relax a bit. We never made it back out that day, and resorted to doing some physical labor as a means to ease our minds.
In the beginning I thought this would be a fun task, getting to know the community and being able to hear from people, and I have enjoyed it to a point, but it's been tough, tougher than I had anticipated. 6 of the 8 we have done so far have been with women. They ranged between the ages of 25 and maybe 40 though the one lady wasn't sure if she was 54 or maybe 36. She had a baby at the breast so we put her at or under 40. One lady had a 4th grade education, the rest of them had at max 1st grade if any. At least half of them are one of two wives. We asked if there was any job or profession they would have loved to have or would still be interested in, most of them said a nurse. Why? To help people. I was happy to hear they wanted to help people, but discouraged that a nurse and a teacher are the only jobs that a woman may think about having, and then with so little to no education, even that wasn't possible.  Then the most frustrating question of all perhaps, what abilities, strengths and/or gifts do you have, that would help you to do well at that job? Oh the ways we tried to phrase this question, to give examples, to explain it in three different ways, and all we could get from most of them was, honesty. Yes, honesty is a strength. But is that the most essential strength to being a good nurse? And why did they choose that, was it because we gave that as an example of a potential strength of someone, since most of them thought that was most important, or does it say something about the deceit that is generally all around them and the rarity of honesty. The follow up question went something like this, what other gifts, strengths and abilities do you have? what are you good at? By this time we had already realized the gifts, strengths, abilities question was a bit too complicated or complex, so i would just skip to the classic, what are you good at? And then had to clarify that one a bit more, explaining that if we asked someone else about what you were good at what would they say. Still tricky, got some attempts at an answer, one lady said she was good at letting people get their drinks on credit (she sells local brew and local waragi, something like vodka maybe), not being able to read or write, i wondered if she was even making any profit. Oh what different worlds we come from, my little mind has been so educated from birth, I have felt so loved, and people tell me things I'm good at, and I know that God created me in His image and has given me certain strengths and abilities that are unique to me. The oppression of these women struck me in a new way. It hit hard. And I began to wonder about the gospel, what do they really understand, when a sermon is preached what exactly are they picking from it? But I digress, there are still more questions, we've just reached to the top of page 2 out of 3. If I go through every question I'll just become frustrated and you might become bored, so let me just pick one more that was difficult. What things do you enjoy about caring for your family? This thing of enjoying, I think francis translated it as love, so what do you love about caring for your family? This was another tricky question, answers ranged from "health" and "farming" so why, why do you enjoy those things? Because we have to farm to survive, otherwise there's no way we would live. ok. We need to be healthy to survive. Ok. so i don't think you're getting my question. I'm not asking what's important or necessary to survive, I'm asking what you enjoy, what do you delight in? what do you love about caring for your family? Like, do you love when all the kids are gathered to eat together, or the unity when everyone's working in the same garden, or what????? But it's just survival. It doesn't matter if you enjoy any of it, but you need to somehow keep yourself and your family alive. Such a different mindset then in the states where we want to enjoy everything, and if we don't enjoy it, why even waste time on it? So that's just a taste, of why it's such a difficult thing.  I look forward to doing the rest of the assessments, and meeting more beautiful men and women in the area, but oh that Christ would come and set them free, that the oppression of women would lift, that they would be able to delight in things, and know that God has given them abilities, gifts, strengths, that they would be able to stay in school and not be kept at home to care for the next sibling that's been produced, or not given to some man before finishing primary school to get some cows, etc... Even the lady who was either 54 or 36 said if some one paid for school fees, she'd go back to school (starting in 1st grade) to become a nurse, though she has 10 kids, so i don't know how feasible that is at this point. They have beautiful hearts that need to be set free so that communities can be transformed. Jesus, come and minister to hearts and minds in this place.

Ijo Bon Yesu

As I consider the beauty of this place, I see trees green with the fullness of life, tall grass bending in worship at the command of the wind, ducks all in a row chasing after their mother, quaint huts scattered across the countryside, truly, it’s beautiful, even the ever presence of silence is refreshing to the ears. The smiles of the people and the warm welcome, children in bright uniforms, all together creating something like an illusion, a backdrop in a drama that quickly dismantles, a smooth glossy white eggshell. But break through that shell and enter into the mess we’re daring to call life and see the way you’ve been deceived. There’s much pain here, too much actually and though it presents itself most commonly as poverty and is treated only as such, that’s not the root of it, it’s merely another symptom.

Enter into this mess with me for a minute. There’s much pain left behind by the rebel group that claims to want the country ruled by the Ten Commandments, but they’ve broken everyone of them in that pursuit, abducting children and forcing them to steal, kill and destroy. And though this rebel group is now far from this place, its residents have taken up that same work. Young girls are still raped, cattle are still stolen, they cheat one another in market, destroy one another’s reputation through harsh gossip and lies. They kill their wives and the joy of their children by caning them thoroughly for simple mistakes, mothers abuse their own children with venomous words, virginity is stolen for a few cows, alcohol is busy destroying futures, the description of the mess can go on and on (I’d hate to start listing the mess that is America). So now think about it, throw some money at it, a few income generating activities, give more seeds, send some cows, and maybe it appears to help for a while, like a Band-Aid put on a wound that’s in desperate need of stitches. And yet the Band-Aid is better because it may help a little. But give an alcoholic-gambling addict a cow and he sells the thing and drinks and gambles it away and ends up in worse debt. Give the girl child education and she’s sold for more cows. Help a family start a business and the jealous neighbor still poisons them.

We need to get to the root, but it gets even messier, and more painful. The roots need to be reached and there’s only one way to reach them. Because the deep of our souls is eternally crying out to be met, but there’s only One who is deeper still, only One whose love can reach those deep roots, only One gives the greater grace. And most of the people here have heard rumors of this love and grace, but few have really experienced it. The pastor here may live far from church and all the easier for him to live a life of lustful activity. Maybe he takes two women instead of one, or helps himself to the offering. The born-again lady goes to the witch doctor to make her husband love her more than all the other co-wives. The church-going man plants certain things in his garden to protect the other things from curses. The mob of mostly “Christians” kills the thief in its act of mob justice. But what does it mean to live in the fullness of the love of Christ? How will they know unless they’ve seen? So I guess you could say this is a cry, a cry for help, for people willing to live out the gospel of Christ in this place. For people who are willing to cry out with us, for hope to be restored, for joy, for peace, for life abundant, for believers here to realize they are more than conquerors, not mere victims, for people who seek the heart of God to rise up, for the spirits of death and destruction and hopelessness to lose their grip on this people.

Ijo Bon Yesu. (You only Jesus)