Jennifer Myhre co-leads our team with her husband, Scott. She is also a pediatrician, a very gifted writer, and a totally cool mom. She wrote this poem for our Thanksgiving celebration and I thought you all would enjoy getting a glimpse into our team members and their lives here . . . And the woes of the rainy season! She has probably also posted a copy over at her blog, well worth checking out, paradoxuganda.blogspot.com.

‘Twas the Thanksgiving Season of 2006
When the Bundibugyo Team found themselves in a fix.
Clouds hung o’er their valley, rain ru-ined their fun,
In vain they waited for glimpses of sun.
No power, no road, no dry clothes, no food:
The incessant drizzle frazzled their mood.
Mud coated their legs, frogs thrived in their shoes,
Fungus, boils and flies plagued them with the blues.
When up on the calendar there arose a celebration
Devoted to thanks, in spite of the situation.
To their kitchens they flew to sift, stir, and dash,
Creating dishes worthy of a Thanksgiving bash.
Their leader Doctor Scott, with his usual skill
Slaughtered and plucked a tur-key for the grill.
More hungry than pigs to the Pierces they came,
And Scott merrily greeted each one by name:
“On Myhres and Massos, on Pierces and Barts!
Stephanie Carol Kim Amy Pat Pamela Josh Scott!”
As he called through the door the whole team appeared,
Four families with children and eight singles held dear.
“To the tables come one! To the feasting come all!
We’ll refresh and regroup and press on past this wall.”
So down to the banquet each team member did sit
Devouring turkey and pie, they left not one bit.
And then, in a twinkling, they stormed back out the door
Strengthened with power from on high they would soar.

Karen, how she sparkled, with spreadsheets and goats
And art projects and preschool in this place so remote.
Michael’s bearded chin indicated he was wise
From flow rates to futurology he could all analyze.
A hundred children? No problem for loving Annelise
She’d tell stories of Jesus and all would be pleased.
Advanced math and batteries give David no pause
Though ‘banker’ must have been hidden in the fine print clause.
Kevin’s ready to preach, teach, raise funds, balance books,
Holding Christ School together is even harder than it looks.
He needs JD, who had twins in her belly,
But now manages teachers between diapers so smelly.
Stephanie just arrived but she’s already raised money
Have you tasted her recipe of g-nuts and honey?
‘No problem’ Carol bodas to track down sick babies:
Intern, teacher, researcher, we hope she’ll come back maybe?
Reading, writing, and Spanish; basketball, Bible studies,
Miss Kim devotes herself to serve everybody.
Teaching science and history while learning Lubwisi
Miss Amy’s joyful endeavors make it all look easy.
Pat loves the wounded, the sick and the poor,
Even when Monday shouts at her door.
Zipping by on the picky, Pamela’s out everywhere,
To TBAs and health centers organizing better care.
Josh resurrects computers, fixes bikes, plays guitar
And bushwhacks to water projects near and far.
Master Scotticus, though new, shows no signs of fainting
Tackling French, biology, biking, even filming and painting.

Scott winked his eye as he nodded his head
The security risk was low: they had nothing to dread.
In spite of the rain, they could get back to their work:
Sixteen adults, thirteen kids, not one single jerk.
So refraining from publicly picking his nose,
Scott prayed for them all as from dinner he rose.
He sprang to his Land-Rover, called the team with a whistle,
Away they all slid to continue their Ugandan epistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“God’s Kingdom is coming! Don’t give up the fight!”

Early T-giving morning, I wake up with the dawn. It’s been one year this week since we first saw this place. Amazing how far you can journey in your heart, soul and body in a single year.

Of course no one here celebrates Thanksgiving. It’s an American holiday, though somehow to me it feels like a universal holiday, like Christmas (not  eally universal, I know.) We gave our workers the day off, but all around us life went on as usual. Naomi went to school, David went to work, and I had Quinn and Gaby for our usual Tuesday/Thursday unschooling time. We got the house ready. . . . . Soon the entire team will descend on the Pierces for food and fun, a party!

The morning starts with many of the kids and a few adults heading to the Myhre place to kill the three turkeys that have been selected for our “feast”. Two young new guys on the team ask to be the turkey killers. Did I mention that I’m vegetarian?? I guess living here isn’t so much different from growing up on a farm. Naomi and I walked to school beside her friend who commented on how much blood had splattered on her when the turkey ran around without its head. (No surprise, Naomi did NOT eat turkey at dinner.)

Naomi and her two litle girl friends were invited to the teachers house for school – they made pumpkin pie, watched the movie version of their recent read a loud and did lots of fun turkey math. Naomi has the coolest first grade teacher, ever.

Tables, chairs and all kinds of tableware began arriving late morning at our place. We needed enough for the thirty people that make up our team right now. We set out four big rectangular tables in a large square and decorated with a bag of sage tea lights, sent by care package, and paper leaves strung from the ceiling by Dave Shrum’s endlessly useful fishing line. It does look nice.

The boys went to play at Gaby’s house while I headed to the J/S house to help cook fresh turkey and stuffing. I was so happy that my turkey and stuffing – first time to cook either from scratch – turned out so well. We filmed some video footage of “the great stuffing cook off” for use after the big dinner.

Everyone came at four, we eventually ate, mounds and mounds of food. This is the time when we pull out all our American stops. The sage seasoning for stuffing, McCormick, brought from America; the craisins and currants and raisins; the pecans for pecan pie and pumkin casserole. We ate good American food; pumpkin, potatoes, salad, stuffing, turkey, carrots, cauliflower, and lots and lots of pie.

Afterwards we heard poetry recitations on our brand new stage (yay for our little local workshop!) from all the school kids. Jennifer Myhre, one of our team leaders, also wrote a totally cool poem about the team that I’ll post with permission, soon. We watched the cooking video made by Josh and Scott and Michael played some beautiful worship songs. We had plenty of candlelight to accompany all festivities since the power is so low these days, due to our heavy rainy season.

A beautiful Thanksgiving. We have a giant chalkboard wall in our “art room” here. We wrote thanksgiving verses, sent by Karl, on it. My favorite, the Message version, “Give thanks to God, no matter what!!”

I will never cease to thank God for difficulty because of Corrie Ten Boom. IF she can thank God for the suffering of a concentration camp, and find joy, then I can thank God anywhere at all.

A big shout out to all, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

One thing that is really incredible about worshipping God with local believers here are the testimonies. All services we have been to include a testimony time, a time when people share about how God has worked in their  ives in the last week. It seems traditional to begin with “halleluiah” (with a response from the people, “amina” (amen). Then what is striking is how often the testimony will be a sincere and heartfelt thankfulness to God for preserving that person’s life over the course of the last week. It never ceases to make my heart amazed at the simplicity of the faith that these people must have.

In addition our small Pentecostal church includes a prayer time at the end of the service, when people receive intercession by the pastors. Due to many factors, it is fun to watch as practically the whole church surges forward for prayer. Many may be sick or in need of special strength.

Pastors preach from Rotooro Bibles (in most cases, I believe), with translation into Lubwisi for the locals and if we are there into English as well. While American Christians fight over Bible translations and divide to find purity, third world believers are thankful for the few Bibles they share amongst, despite none of them being in their mother tongue.

From the song, “Conversations”; from Sara Groves “Conversations” album

“I think we’ve figured out, this world is bigger than you and I.
We’ve exhausted our wealth of knowledge, have no more answers for mankind.
And we’ve had every conversation in the world,
about what is right and what has all gone bad.
But have I mentioned to you that this is all I am, this is all that I have.

I’m not trying to judge you, no that’s not my job.
I’m just a seeker too. In search of God.
Somewhere, somehow, this subject became taboo,
I have no other way to communicate to you.
But this is all that I have, this is all that I am.

And I would like to share with you, what makes me complete.
I don’t claim to have found the truth, but I know it has found me.
The only thing that isn’t meaningless to me,
is Jesus Christ and the way He set me free.
And this is all that I have, this is all that I am.

I don’t know how to say this,
I don’t know where to start.
I just know that I care for you
and I’m speaking from my heart.”

Tonight in our bible study we told the story of Moses leading the people out of Egypt. In that story, God sends ten terrible plagues to convince the Pharoah to “let my people go”. Finally after the last and most terrible, the death of all the firstborn sons, Pharoah relents.

As the story ended – with the children of Israel walking towards freedom, I looked into faces that needed something more. And I asked one of the hard questions that many times we are afraid to ask. “I tell you all the time how much God loves you, how could a loving God act like this?”

I think it is critically important that we who love Jesus not be afraid to ask tough questions of ourselves, of God and of others. Though we may not always know the answers, that’s okay. If we can trust God with our hearts and lives, we can trust that He knows things we don’t know about Himself and about how the universe functions.

Eventually, after we had discussed this issue a bit, we gave the kids the soccer ball and they ran off to play. Meanwhile three or four guys and I continued the discussion, including one I’ll name “Aaron” who needs your prayer.

For the next hour and a half we discusses the problem of suffering, punishment versus the natural consequences of our broken world, temptation, and how God as a father relates to His children. These are all hot button issues for me, and perhaps my beliefs don’t mirror those of every other Christian. My hope is that as we discuss with humility, with the idea that the only holder of truth is God himself, we will all learn.

In a place filled with suffering, a discussion on sickness as a punishment versus sickness as a part of our brokeness, is vitally important.

We find ourselves surprised here by how many people proclaim the name of Jesus without knowing the most simple things that Jesus claimed about himself. Many, many people claim to be Christians but don’t understand the concept of receiving God’s gift of Jesus death for us. Instead they are relying on their obedience to God to save them. We hope for them to know there is nothing more to do than to hold out open hands to Jesus. We hope for them to live in the joy and freedom of His life given to them.

“Aaron” is a good example. He came to us on Wednesday looking for sponsorship to the Church of Uganda seminary. He discussed thoroughly that he is a “religious” man and wants to spend his life on “religion”. Since I’m never sure how much of people’s phrasing is based on the language difference and their lack of English, I swallowed that whole part. (though, for the record, I don’t put much stock in religion, only in relationship with Jesus) We discusses his desire to learn more about the Bible so he could teach it to others. He talked about confirmation, communion and baptism as being essential to salvation. It was then that I gently but firmly disagreed with him. I told him we should talk more, because from everything I see in the Bible, Jesus says there is nothing necessary for salvation but accepting His free gift.

So, thank God, “Aaron” came back today and just in time for our discussion. I think He really enjoyed being a part of it. And I was thankful to get the chance to talk in a non confrontational setting, about some of the same big truths.

I suggested to the three of them that perhaps we should meet weekly to discuss these questions and learn from each other. Please pray that God would bring the right people and give us the right time to meet, if He wants us to. And please pray for “aaron” to know Jesus in relationship, not just as religion.

“This is eternal life, that they may know you the only true God and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.” John 17:3

Life, true life, is knowing Jesus. The only thing we need in our lives is a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. It may sound narrow or arrogant to you, but I believe with all my heart and soul that it’s truth.

As I walked into the orphan school this past week it was a great “feeling” moment. As I approached the building a few kids inside spotted me and began chanting “mazungu, mazungu” then the whole building, three hundred kids, erupted in minutes long cheers. Ego – building.

As I stood in front of those children, doing nothing more than telling a true story, I was convinced of the life-changing, circumstance-altering power of His words spoken through me. I think I will never be the same again. I think I just discovered a passion.

I got home and wrote in my journal, without even knowing I was going to write it, ” I am an evangelist. I love to share the gospel. I love to preach Jesus. Isn’t that what we’re here for? God give me grace to preach Jesus.”

This is something I never imagined could be true about me. I know of some good gifts I have, and many more I wish I could have. But I never imagined this one. God is opening me up to something I never saw before and I’m excited.

I’m also aware that I’m in the midst of transition, and perhaps God is only showing me something that he’ll mature in ways I don’t yet know of over time. Maybe this is a step along the way towards other things. But for today I’m just trusting that He’s developing evangelism and discipleship and even a kind of pastoring in my heart. And I’m going to walk day by day into what He teaches me.

As I prayed while getting ready to go down to the orphan school, I asked God to show me what story He wanted me to tell. The story that came clearly to mind is the story of Abraham being asked by God to sacrifice Isaac. I was dismayed by this. That is a story I have ALWAYS disliked. It seems so horrific, I have always wondered about it. I told all this to God. And what God did is transform me in the telling. I told the story, Abraham following God’s direction to go sacrifice on Mount Moriah and then realizing that his son was to be the sacrifice. His being obedient up to the moment of killing Isaac and then God stopping him and providing a ram in the
thicket instead. And then God so clearly showed me how this parallels Jesus and I told the kids about another Father who sent His only Son to be sacrificed for US and how there was no animal provided for him; no, he had to die. I presented the gospel and prayed with the children that some might trust Jesus with their hearts and lives.

During that prayer I found myself kneeling on the dirt floor of the hut that is the school and church, my arms outstretched to God, asking him to have mercy on these children, asking him to change their hearts and lives forever.

And maybe you are one who does not yet have a friendship with Jesus. If so, know that I am praying for you too, perhaps not by name, but still with passion. If this was not truth, why would we give our lives away for it? We stand to gain nothing by your believing, but you will gain everything.

“The love that is at the center of the universe now extends outward through Jesus to his followers. The Father “knows” Jesus and in turn Jesus knows others. He knows their failings, He knows their pain. He is “in” their emotional lives and “in” their problems. He touches people. When we watch Jesus, we are watching God respond to human suffering.” – from Love Walked Among Us

I pray that you will take the leap of faith, risk being wrong to gain being right with God. God is not something you prove, He is someone that we experience. And when you know Him as your friend, there is no doubting truth.

Tonight I ran up to Scott and Jennifer’s to pick up milk. It’s our milk night, so we get the full share, process it (pastuerize) and then pass along half to the girls house. The cow is named Dairy Milk Chocolate (DMC for short), she was named after a Ugandan candy bar. Her milk is yummy. Much better than the UHT boxed milk we usually use.

It’s difficult to believe that this culture does not use milk. We have a goat project now that we are using to introduce milk into the culture, specifically to provide the needed nutrition to motherless babies and those with HIV/AIDS. It seems like a sustainable way to provide for nutritional needs.

I just found out today that this culture really doesn’t use eggs either. Since we can buy them in the village I just assumed that many people around have egg laying chickens. But since we have been unable to buy eggs for several days we asked some questions and discovered that all the eggs in our village come over the mountains from Fort Portal, three hours away. And the roads out over the mountains have been blocked for several days by landslides and trucks stuck in the mud (it’s the height of rainy season here).

As an american, I find it hard to believe that people can LIVE without access to eggs and milk and cheese and butter and all the things that come from these products. But they do.

I spent a little bit of time this afternoon skimming through our SPLICE manual from our cross cultural training. It was very helpful. So much of the information you get while still in the States doesn’t really sink in till you’ve been away a while.

I especially liked the a, b, c choices they gave for how we react to loss of our culture. Choice A is where I am right now, but hopefully on my way out. It includes words like rejection, retreatism, insulation, regression. Yep, sounds like me. Are you horrified?? Lately I’ve even lost all desire to learn the language and just decided I’m too stupid and/or lazy to do it!

As I deal with culture shock/culture transition and the associated losses, I found a great quote:

Mourning:

“Make sadness your ally instead of your enemy. God’s solution for resolving your loss of relationships, dreams, ideals and opportunities is sadness. Rather than something to be avoided, this sadness, or grief, allows you to let go of what you cannot have in order to make room in your heart for what you CAN have.
Those who don’t feel safe enough to grieve find themselves holding on to lost hopes and relationships. Then it is difficult for them to seek new attachments, since the ghosts of the past still occupy their emotional life.

So it can be good to be sad, but we must not confuse sadness with depression. Depression is “the inability to process loss or rage.” It’s a heavy paralysis of the soul that won’t allow it to finish resolving a problem. Sadness is actually the antidote to depression.

Depression is static and unmoving, but sadness moves toward resolving loss.”

So I’m praising God for the sadness my heart feels at leaving behind paved roads, bagels and cream cheese, and christian radio on demand. And more seriously, for the sadness I feel about leaving behind great relationships and not only because of distance but because of the soul changes I am experiencing. I will never be the same, and sometimes that is scary.

I am “letting go of what I cannot have (while still walking in God’s will, the best place for me to be), in order to make room in my heart for what I CAN have.”

And today God showed me some beautiful things He has ahead for me. More later.

Do you want to see something incredibly beautiful???

These are the kids at the orphan school.  About three hundred children crammed into a space about the size of a living room.  I had an awesome time with them today.  More tomorrow.

“Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the
Creator of the ends of the earth (oh, yea! Where we are!) He does not
faint or grow weary. His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to
the faint and to him who has no might he increases strength.” Isaiah
40:28-30

Once again God’s word has the perfect message for me, today. When I was on
the brink of fainting (blood sugar woes). When I am feeling incredible
weariness. The longer I live here, the more completely amazed I am by the
power of the Bible. When I am in the midst of culture gaps, not sure what
truth can bridge the differences, I know with certainty that His word was
written for all cultures, all ages, all times. I know that if I can speak
His word, it will be enough.

And so into my new culture, I generously add God’s word. Though I am
immersed in helping my family survive, yes, thrive – I find time for the
simplest of ministry, telling Bible stories. And though I feel my role is
very small, very unimportant, and not nearly what I would wish for – I am
adding something.

And God then reminds me again and again that He is not interested in my
adding something to the equation. He is interested in faithfulness. He is
interested in my seeking His heart with passion. He is interested in my
walking towards others in love.

This week I told the story of Samuel in one of our thrice weekly Bible study
hours. That story ends with the death of Eli, the judge of Israel, who
lacked the integrity that he needed for his job. At the end of the story we
learn about how God’s ark is captured by the enemies and how they give it to
their stone god and God destroys their stone god by knocking it to tiny
pieces. (I Samuel 1-3)

My translator listened with great interest throughout the story, once again,
amazed by it. We discussed stone gods, all of the children had seen them
often. (which amazed me!)

Then today my translator (also my pastor!) preached a message from Psalm 115
- about how gods made of stone have no power, not even the power to see,
hear or walk. He pleaded with the congregation to stop going to the
witchdoctor, to stop tying the bands around their babies wrists (to keep
evil spirits away), to stop worshipping everything other than the Creator.

And God spoke to my heart through his message, about the gods I worship, not
made of stone. Things that I believe are essential to my happiness, other
than Him.

And I realized in a blinding flash of the obvious, that God ALWAYS can and
will use His word. The Bible says that His word will not be spoken without
having an impact. I was blessed to see that God’s word, spoken by me,
processed by another and then respoken to me, worked in my heart.

Surely God is doing much more unseen work. May I have faith.

The other night Mugesa Abraham arrived at my door. He is a sweet and cheerful neighbor, mostly toothless though he is probably only around thirty. He has several young children and the family struggles to survive, making their money by dragging rocks up from the riverbed and breaking them small to be used in building projects.

As usual, we greeted each other, then he asked hopefully, “papale?” He often comes to sell me papaya. His price is extremely high for this culture but still low and reasonable to me – 1000 ush, which is about 50 cents American.

I told him, no, I already had several papayas brought as “kisembos” – gifts. Maybe another day, I told him.

His face fell. I looked down. As usual, I felt guilty. But at least he is someone I often DO help. Then, looking at the ground, he said softly ” we are hungry tonight, we have nothing to cook. Please would you buy our papale?”

That night I gained a papale and greater than that an appreciation for how close to hunger and even starvation some people walk.

Though there are few people here who literally die from not enough food to eat, many children die from inadequate nutrition because the food they do access is not sufficient for their bodies needs. In addition, more often than not, a child born here will never reach its’ genetic potential for size or IQ due to insufficient protein, calories, and iron.

It’s tragic, horrifying, and horribly sad.

How can any of us debate that we live in a world that is broken. That none of us can make it whole again. Only the Creator of the universe has the power to make what is broken, whole. His kingdom come, His will be done . .
..

And it IS coming, one person and one day at a time. Though the progress is slow, and the price painful. It IS worthwhile.