Time

It is the season of Lent. Time to focus. Time to reflect. Time to give time to sacrificing something of our normal indulgences. Such sacrifices take time, effort, a pause and change from the routine. 

Or do they? 

 

It was at first hilarious to see an image of one church's approach to the beginning of this season of sacrifice, but then disappointing to realize what it epitomized--a state of being unaware of the minuscule amount of time "sacrificed" when desiring to give something up for Him. If we're giving something up for Him shouldn't we also give ample time in acknowledgement and dedication?

We all cut short our devotion to Him in various ways. God, open our eyes to how we short-change You. Let this and every season be a time to truly hone in on His perfection, His ultimate sacrifice and our desperate need of Him.  

Beautiful, strong, abundant, life-giving things take T-I-M-E. We must take time to cultivate the spiritual, emotional and physical aspects of life.

This past weekend Sam's older sister stopped by to report that Grandma wasn't doing very well. She hadn't eaten for almost two days and was very weak. Sam's sister requested that I go out and check on her. Two hours later I was on my way. These things take time.

I first went to visit with Aunt Lucy of David Family to ask about which David Family children could accompany me. (Sam was in class lectures) We agreed on which two girls would go after they'd finished the garden. During that time I gathered medical supplies--I didn't know what state Grandma would be in so I needed to be prepared for almost anything.

I also gathered bananas and cooked some rice. I knew I'd need to have some bland, soft foods to help coax her into eating again.

Just before we got into the car Sam showed up from class and he went out, too. One young lady translated the more difficult words for me as I examined Grandmas while Sam and the other young lady washed sheets, clothes and other soiled items.

Our time with Grandma took about two hours and thankfully showed us that Grandma wasn't actually suffering from any illness other than a healthy dose of stubbornness. She didn't want to eat mostly because she succumbed to frustration over needing others to help her with simple tasks. If she couldn't do it her way, in her time then she didn't want to do it at all.

Once she saw the bananas and rice, she began gobbling them up.

It took time, but she finally understood and agreed to eat a little bit a few times a day and to also sleep on mattresses on the floor. (There had been a disagreement between Sam's sister and her over sleeping high up in the bed (a struggle to get up and a fall risk) and sleeping down on the floor.

It is amazing to me how much of myself I saw in Grandma once I objectively processed what happened in the two hours of our visit.

I often stubbornly refuse to receive from others, from God and from His word. I then become weak and am frustrated as others try to help me.

But, if I take time to "eat" from His truth throughout each day I remain strong and healthy. Lord, help me! I still forget this basic truth and am slow to realize I need to take time with You.

Spiritually, we need to devote time to Him!

Less than an hour after leaving Grandma's I was on the road again in the other direction. One of the staff members I mentor lives in Kiwoko and we shared news and struggles and then we prayed together.

From the old to the young. Definitely time WELL spent and I am grateful for their presence in my life. What a privilege to be able to be a part of people's lives! Spending that kind of time is an emotional boost! Grandma must have said, "Thank you," a dozen times. Likewise, my friend expressed a heart felt, "Thank you," more than once. Yet, I received so much at the privilege of receiving blessing while giving blessing!

About a week ago Geoff and the kids spent the greater part of Saturday in the gardens around our house. It took time to get our compound looking nice, but it was worth it!

Acacia cleaned up the overgrowth near the goat house.

Slashing grass outside the goat house

Our back yard, freshly mowed and cleaned

Geoff loves being in the garden. He enjoys showing others the fruit of his labor in our compound.

Kevin also LOVES working in the garden. He planted maize, beans and squash in mounds, "like the pilgrims," he explained. He has spent much time in the garden this month as the rains have begun and the soil is soft.

Toby helped to cut and collect grass to add to the mulch in the garden.

Acacia found a snake skin in the goat house. We're just glad we didn't run into the new-skinned snake!

Kevin paused long enough to let a baby chameleon rest in his hand. 

We found a family of chameleon's in our bamboo: mama, daddy and little baby. Can you see the mom and the baby?

A few days earlier, little miss Bubbly was found with undeniable evidence that she'd been places she wasn't supposed to go. I couldn't resist snapping this shot of her extreme remorse and guilt-laden demeanor once caught with sticky burrs all over her upper body. 

Yesterday evening, Sam and Sharon (one of the girls in David Family) wanted make a birthday cake for a couple of classmates. The kitchen smelled so yummy as their creation took form. They spent the better part of an hour working on their creation. And, it was enjoyed and appreciated today.

Their cake smelled Sooooooo good, in fact, that Kevin couldn't resist joining in on the baking. He decided he wanted apple cinnamon muffins, so I helped him find a recipe and he made them completely on his own. The only help his friends gave was amazement that he was going to tackle such a project.
 The more astute of you will ask why I have on my sunglasses while perusing recipes. Kevin, Geoff and I had just returned from a bike exploration out in the neighboring villages--and some inadvertent forays into our neighbors' garden plots! We took Bubbly whom we believe narrowly escaped death given the way she was panting and refusing to move after we arrived home. She is back to normal now folks. no worries! And the muffins were wonderful!

Taking time out to create yummy treats and to explore the great outdoors around us involves investing  time and effort. It is definitely worth it!

Our milk delivery has been a bit sporadic of late so we received milk from our former neighbors yesterday and this morning. It was not our usual delivery from a milk can on the back of  bicycle, however, as we received ours in a laundry soap container today! 

And from there it went direct to the sauce pan where we boiled it for about 7 minutes to ensure the necessary death of any harmful organisms. Once we finished boiling said milk our usual milk delivery person arrived and we started the process all over again. We now have an abundance of leche/amata/lait, but with four teenagers in the house it won't last long! Milk doesn't take much time sitting around our house!

I can't resist slipping in a photo of the beautiful Lake Victoria at Musana Camps. A sunrise or sunset happens relatively quickly as solitary events, but the entire process between them takes hours. We need to appreciate the daily bookends marked with their splendor, but let us do so in tandem with acknowledgement of the required orbital movement of the heavenly bodies.  It all takes time.

Beauty takes time. Devotion takes time. Sacrifice takes time.

The garden doesn't produce without effort, hard work, attention.

People don't grow without an investment of love and care.

A cake doesn't make itself.

Enjoying a "bush bike ride" takes loads of energy.

Milk requires heat to present itself useful and not harmful. This takes time and ATTENTION (milk boiled over takes MORE time to clean up, ugh.)

And we must take time. Our beauty comes from Him. Time given in devotion and sacrifice to Him yields a deeper appreciation for all the time He has given us.

May we thrive and grow in love with Him and in thankfulness for all He's given.

May we give adequate time to recognizing Him.

And may we give Him time to cultivate in us what is truly life giving.

Two Weeks

Geoff just finished two VERY NEEDED weeks off.

He had crashed and burned. Something had broken. All was not right.

After a deep, real, "help me" conversation with our director and then the manager, he was "sat down" and told to take two weeks away from the things that had obliterated the Geoff we know.

This desperate state did not suddenly materialize. Since August, when the head of child care had to abruptly leave, he had acted as director of child care--our largest department here at New Hope besides our schools. This on top of his regular position as leader of the Early Adulthood department; a member of the management team; an elder; a mentor, a husband and father. I think there might have been only a handful of nights that did not include emails, phone calls or meetings well beyond supper time. Most nights he was still working diligently on the computer until after 9 p.m. But, even then, he started the next day with left overs. Left over assignments from previous days, left over conversations cut short due to emergent needs and left over pieces of Geoff hanging on to God's hand.

The numerous demands crowded out his ability to keep one-on-one time with the young adults entrusted to his care as part of the early adulthood ministry as well as staff that he usually mentors. This inability to relate on a personal level due to other time constraints was the most life-draining aspect of his packed schedule.

Finally, it became too much, "Something has broken inside of me," he said.

The Saturday evening before his two weeks off began, he read to us at the dining room table as we began our weekly Sabbath. He had randomly marked a chapter in a book we'd been reading together as a family called, "Created for Work," by Bob Schultz. But, God knew the relevancy of that random chapter before we did. As the words tumbled from his tired lips he recognized the words were describing him.  "Have you ever ridden in a car when the timing is off a few degrees? Ka-pow-pow-puh-pow. The whole car shakes, jolts, and sounds like a Fourth of July celebration. Few cars drive very far in that condition. Like engines, sometimes our hearts get out of time. They begin running poorly, leaving us frustrated, discouraged, and sometimes angry. Few of us like to admit we're running rough, even when folks around us clearly hear it. Though it may seem complicated, like repairing an engine seems to me, resetting the timing of our hearts is really quite simple. The standards by which a man tunes his heart is the nature and attributes of God."

These past two weeks have been spent in the garden preparing soil, planting maize and weeding the beans; at home repairing shutters, painting doors, unstopping drains and RESTING. We weren't sure that home, in the middle of New Hope's primary site, would yield real rest and opportunities for prayer and reflection. But, surprisingly Geoff was able to spend a great deal of time praying, studying, listening, and worshiping God.

He left his phone off during the day and our community truly respected that he was not available. He read, he napped, he enjoyed the kids, and the two of us went to Kampala for a night out and some great food.

Toward the end of the leave time Geoff spoke the words we had hoped we'd hear. "I feel hopeful again. I remember what it is like to look forward to work. I am thankful."

And so are we. Toby often was heard these past few months verbalizing his frustration at the demands his Dad faced, and when there were extra meetings or assignments Toby was the first to protest. He is especially happy to see his Dad peaceful again.

Recently, we received two personal letters handwritten by young adults whose lives we are a part of to varying degrees. I truly believe one of the main reasons Geoff was struggling was a direct result of not being able to interact with the young people we are here to minister to. The words in these letters are encouragement that even in the past few months of busy, busy, busy, there has still been an impact of God's truth, love and light in hearts dear to us.

"I have written this letter to thank you for everything you've put in for me to be able to attend Investment Year because I am learning important things which will help me in life. I am really blessed because the challenges I am experiencing during the year (are producing) growth in me, although the year has not ended. The first training spoke to me a lot and my life is changing. I wish that every youth could go through this year and challenges like I am. After the computer training my heart was like, 'I should thank the one(s) who enabled me to attend IY, Thank you so much and may the Lord bless you."

"As I look back at this ended semester, I realize that if it wasn't for God, if it wasn't for your prayers, and encouragement, I wouldn't have made it. Therefore, I want to say thank you for giving me your shoulder to lean on. Thank you for the many things you have sacrificed to see me to where I am today. You have given hope for tomorrow."

And that, my friends, gives us hope for tomorrow.

Geoff returned to the office yesterday without many of the responsibilities he'd carried these past few months. Yes, he is still an elder, still on the management team and remains as the head of the early adulthood ministry; a manageable load. He was home for lunch on time, home from the office on time and thankful for opportunities to speak into the lives of others.

Thanks to those of you who prayed for us during the past few months. We couldn't have survived without God's sustaining hand on us. The blessing of your prayer support is beyond our ability to fully express. THANK YOU.

Thankful

After more than ten orbits of the sun here in Uganda, living and working at the same place for all ten+ years, I feel both excitement for the days and ways we live in our remote village and a commonplace-ness that keeps me from seeing any of the days as special.

Today I feel particularly nothing special at all.

But, I have this pressure and angst to write something that would move you--move me--lift us off the plateau of everyday and inspire us to a beautiful view again.

Honestly, what is it that inspires us? (Insert "Sunday School answer" here: Jesus) After all, when we "don't know what to say, just say Jesus." I hate that song, by the way. As if His name is some trite magical "abracadabra" that excuses us from engaging with Him in the process of taking responsibility for our actions and reactions, and sifting through our thoughts and questions. Allowing His name to pass through the lips does not automatically fill the ugly void created by foolishness or ignorance. Jesus is not a trite answer. He could never be that. But, honestly we live often as if our lives did NOT depend on Him.

Living life in Uganda, China, California or Georgia, Nepal, Siberia, Guatemala, or Tasmania we are all His. Whether we view our days as mundane, ordinary, extraordinary, fulfilling or filled with randomness, we all come from Him. Our lack of recognizing His hand on us doesn't negate that His hand has given us life.

For that I am most grateful.

His nail-pierced, raised hand is the reason I live. My God, my Father gave His son Jesus for me. Life for life. Amen.

Whether I see today as special or I see it as regular old whatever doesn't change that it is an ordained day according to His plan.

Thankfulness changes what I see.

I am thankful.

Thankful for the privilege of living among Ugandans, meeting weekly with young people and walking with them as they desire to understand God and live for Him.

Thankful for the privilege of watching the kids entrusted to us walk past my house everyday to school or church, the football field or basketball court.

Thankful for the privilege of being the house where massive amounts of munchkins swarm the compound every afternoon, raising the din from bird banter to kid's laughter and squeals.

Thankful for the privilege of homeschooling my kids. Though, sometimes our activities surrounding such can seem to only maintain the mundane.  I've got the schedule, the plan, the handy-dandy teacher's guide, and a vision for why we school the way we do. But, we often fail to start the school day committing our intentions to Him. We run from the breakfast table--where we've prayed and talked together--off to our individual morning tasks and then show up at various intervals at our desks to begin the academic pursuits. Before I know it, we're scattered all over the place and no one wants to stop their momentum to pray together and give it all to Him again. So much can happen between breakfast and the end of the first hour of school. Why do I fail in this regard? Homeschooling as if it didn't depend on Him. Forgive me Lord, for these kids are yours and these hours are given to show them You. This is truth no matter where one lives--the mission field of another country or the mission field where you've always been.

I am thankful for my kids' hearts, their passions, their struggles, their questions and doubts, their hopes and sadness, and the nothing special.  The privilege of being with them all day long as they grow and change and come to better understand who God is and how He is over it all and loves us all is a gift regardless of where we might find ourselves in this world.

We've spent ten years together in this different culture with all its beauty and its ugly, its fascinating and its strange, its exhibition of uniqueness and exposure of common human frailty. No doubt, it has changed us!

I'm thankful for the ways we've changed.

Never completely at home in this host culture, never again completely at home in our original culture.

In all the stretching, painful, joyful and wondrous experiences we've had we've changed. For the better.

Though I forget to give thanks in many moments of many days, I have learned that I can't go very long without being reminded that being able to give thanks for even the difficulties brings growth towards Him.

Let's not forget to give thanks . . . to GOD, to Jesus. Don't just say Jesus, LIVE for Him! I hope as much for you as I do for myself that we would LIVE, even in the mundane, with a thankfulness that lifts us, even in the difficult, to appreciate and see His hand.

In that vein I share a recently crafted poem I wrote inspired by almost losing my youngest at the end of the first week of February this year. I am thankful for all the days we have, however long they last.

In the bush of Uganda

Under wide open sky

Through the hot dry season

Climbs Kevin very high

A fruit snack the goal

His eyes on the prize

He scales trees barefoot

He scales trees of size

The young ones below

Yell, "even me, you throw!"

And Kevin climbs up

An expert hunter

A toe here, a toe there

Placed ever so adeptly

On each branch with care

Branches hold, fruit sways

Three jackfruit are spied

As he knocks them down

"Weebale!" Tikes cried

With jackfruit scored, over yonder a new reward

So, Kevin climbs up

The old jambula tree

Heavy laden with fruit

It calls, "Climb me!"

And Kevin's in pursuit

"Up, Up!" Kids squeal

"We want more snacks!"

So farther Kevin goes

Steady in his tracks

Juicy plump ones entice

And they look so nice

So Kevin climbs up

He sees few this side

But, what's over there?

That looks like a haul

With plenty to share

Grabbing branches on left

Scaling branches on right

He has no idea 

Of the soon coming fright

The branches wiggle and they prance with a 

Creak--

crack--

dance!

And Kevin falls down!

Twenty five' to the ground

Kevin tumbled straight down

And everybody shutters

At the loud smack sound

Uncle Steve and Aunt Virg

Run out their front door

The kids and the teens

Come close to see more

Kevin wails and he cries

Uncle Steve at his side

Aunt Virg calls the mom

And says bring a ride!

Uncle Paul sets him in

But there is no smile

To the hospital we fly

All praying all the while

X-rays are taken

Ultrasound done

Pronounced free and clear

And to home again we run

In the bush in Uganda

A clambering boy 

Survives a great fall

And lives to our joy.

Kevin fell from the height well beyond the top of the water tower! He began his fall near the top right of the dark green tree in the middle of the photo.

Blessings to you as you LIVE!