Outside it’s dark and late but the never-ending Saturday night is much upon us in Nyahuka. Speakers blare, music pounds and the cries of revelers echo. This is the weekend in a small African town.

On our wooden couch the Prime Minister is sprawled out with arms above his head sleeping just as babies do, relaxed and unconscious. This of course is Christ School’s Prime Minister, not the British one. K is quiet, thoughtful, intensely curious, sweet and artistic. He is spending the weekend with us before trekking home to his village area post-school.

Today I got another chance to be a servant as I worked as a “driver” for a local wedding of a person close to many of our staff members. I had never before met the bride and groom but I sure got to see them up close and personal in all their glitter and relational gore as I ferried them over dirt roads, through deep mud and between twelve feet tall columns of spear grass from one home to the church from the church to the reception. It was about eight hours of driving, waiting, loading, driving, waiting, unloading, and sitting through what turned out to be one of the better wedding services I’ve attended here.

As I stood beside my freshly washed and decorated vehicle, shaking out car mats and brushing off seats I got to be more than the all-important white person. I was simply a helper in the drama of wedding. Their thanks was simple, kind but not overdone. I was blessed with good conversations on each leg of the journey, with smiles and laughter at the events of the day, with a free floating sense of being carried along on something so much bigger than myself. Something so much bigger than the day’s events. I did it with Him.

After a night and day of vomiting, naomi is mending. David managed to plow through thirty-some teacher contracts all while tending our children and greeting our twenty to thirty visitors while I was away on my errand of mercy. Now I relax with my husband and thank God for all this wedding has reminded me that we have: for each other, for a shared intimacy unmarred by previous relational baggage, for memories of 11 great years together, for the promise of new duo adventures up ahead. For the shared accomplishment of creating two amazing children and the deep faith that two more we will parent are soon to come to us. Meanwhile the Prime Minister sleeps on, arms askew, safe in this small haven of family for a day or two.

Being a missionary takes all of who we are and often none of who we think we should, could or would be. It’s baking a cake, chasing a chicken, driving a four wheel drive with a grin and a subservient ” yes, sir!”. It’s hugging my child and paying my neighbor’s child to wash my car. It’s being generous to some workers and scolding others. It’s sorting and packing and giving and organizing over and over and over again. It’s accepting that what you expected never happened but all kinds of cool amazing things you never realized would, did. And this too is success.

In the midst of the chaos of “breaking-off day” (last day of the year) Thursday began with conversations with CSB staff friends. Oh how I will miss the listening ears of Eunice, Kusiima, Desmond, Were, Loy, and others. They encourage me to continue on the journey of faith, they teach me without condemnation, they notice my faults and rather than pretending they’re not there they pray for me. They protect me sometimes even from myself.

Thanksgiving for us was about celebrating the last two years of our ministry time at CSB. Or three years, As Master Johnson pointed out in a speech, the same length of time that Jesus active ministry on earth lasted. It poured rain for the first few hours of the day, stopping the MAF flight carrying Myhre children home from Kenya and delaying the CSB day’s events. There had already been three days of spiritual retreat or “crusades” as we like to call them in Uganda. It had been an intense week of learning, praying, worshipping and growing for students. But on Thursday our first ministry team of the morning, World Vision representatives, did not show up. By 11 rain was tapering and we decided to take a chance in the lull and pass out our gifts of three hundred t-shirts to our students. A bright green, the color of new life and hope, the T-shirts say simply ” revive us God!” amidst the CSB logos. Isaiah 61:1,2 is also prominently displayed in the hopes that these children will themselves become freed from bondage and in turn become oppression enders. God you know this is our prayer, have mercy on Bundibugyo.

Later as we assembled, David and I both gave brief speeches to students and there were some praise songs. Saying goodbye to students was quite bittersweet. We were so eager to be relieved of the constant vigilance of their care yet sad that we were done with this phase of life. For a long while we simply stood at the gate as they carried bags and boxes and trunks to waiting motorcycle taxis and hugged and waved to students as they passed.

The evening brought still more festivities as about 100 people gathered in our yard for a modified American Thanksgiving feast (yes I did make pumpkin casserole and cabbage salad for 100 by myself though the team contributed other dishes and our school kitchen made the rest.) We called the feast a “Blessing-Way” and decided to make it about offering blessings to our staff rather than speeches for us. And bless we did!! From gatekeepers and cleaning lady to professional accountant and administrators we offered up thanks and blessings to every person in our school. We honored them publicly and as a group we affirmed ” the Lord bless you and keep you and make his face shine on you and give you peace.”

There were more speeches, there was cake, there was a devotional on the meaning of blessings and some goodbye moments for other staff members. But most importantly there was dancing!! Good old gospel dancing to real African gospel music. A DJ joined us for the evening with the requisite huge speakers and crackling microphone. And the whole staff DANCED. Standing in the midst, watching their bodies move, their hearts open up, their voices cry out in the traditional “ay-ay-ay – - – AAYY!” I myself was deeply, deeply blessed. We’ve surely done something right when these folks can let go, let all their guards down right in our front yard. And when we can join them and dance too it’s a whole nother kind of victory.

The Blessing-Way day was a total success.

Real Midnight and Quinn is vomiting hard.  His diarhea comes quickly enough to beat him to the bathroom.  He is unbelievably sweet in the darkness; all blond curls and soft cheeks and tiredness.  Spirits of sickness  we REFUSE you in Jesus name.

Meanwhile I have fever, sore throat, head and body aches.  David has a virulent staph infection on his face that has a swelling the size of a racquetball and is making him feel flu-ish.  Spirits of sickness we REFUSE you in Jesus name.

But as we wake this morning, we stay committed to doing “the next right thing.”  Fenelon’s book, “Let Go” says it well: ” If there are things in His will which you do not understand, simply tell Him that you are willing to conform to His will in all things.  And then go on in peace.  For we know that peace is the will of God for you in every situation.”

Two days ago I was at the BOTTOM.  But thankfully despite sickness and increasing pressure of time as school draws to a close I now feel at peace.  From Jesus Calling, the words of God to me, to all of us:

“I am pleased with you, my child. Allow yourself to become fully aware of my presence shining upon you.  You don’t have to perform well in order to receive my love.  In fact performance will pull you away from me.    Shift your focus from performance into my radiant presence.  The light of My love shines on you continually, regardless of your feelings or behavior.  Your responsibility is to be receptive to this unconditional love.  Thankfulness and trust are your primary receptors.  Thank me for everything.  Trust in me at all times.  These simple disciplines will keep you open to my loving presence.”

Slowly, slowly, I’m learning.  Trust.  Thankfulness.  Receiving His love.  Basking in the shimmer.  Letting Go.

A few minutes to “Missionary Midnight” which of course means 9 pm . . . . .It’s the end of a VERY long day. We sit with the Clarks around our dining table enjoying fried chicken strips, deviled eggs, twice baked potatoes and brownies and slowly reviving. My soul has melted down to the point of numbness this week. Good food is a start to healing.

Laughter is even better . . . as a rat runs by we all grab sticks, brooms and racquets. Screams, jumping on chairs, falling furniture and two dead rats ensue within the next half hour. Much Much laughter. This is the equivalent of the movie theatre in Bundibugyo. Standing on the back of the sofa screaming as rats run by with John Clark in hot pursuit.

I doubt it gets much better than this.

The sun has come out in full force after a day of downpours and low hanging clouds. Barbara just managed to finally fly out of Bundibugyo airstrip in time for her flight tonight after delays since 9 am due to the weather. There is symbolism in all this. Symbolism in sun coming out after low-hanging clouds dropping rain. Symbolism in the new growth that is already germinating in our jungle surroundings in the wake of the choking water. Several new singles, couples and even a family applying to join the team. The Johnsons financial support beginning to really come in. New life to a dry and weary land – team Bundibugyo. By faith I declare new hope, new prosperity and a season of enrichment in ministry for all of them long after we leave this place. World Harvest Mission-Bundibugyo, we bless you in Jesus name.

We are now only one day from the end of the CSB exam period and joy is in the air. The Senior 1 girls, finally at the end of their long freshman year, are joyful and exuberant in the sunshine. Their Lubwisi speech, littered with the “k” sound so integral to their African language, is all “you, girl”, “friend” and “dear”. They sound for all the world like a flock of noisy active birds. I love to see their delight, their freedom, love to see their shirts untucked and their feet bare, running to throw handmade balls at each other. For a few moments they are girls again instead of young women.

In the late afternoon the new chorus will gather to practice worship songs. Eunice is teaching them Majesty and Days of Elijah. Their beautiful African accents bring a new purity, a new awe to the dazzling words. Next week they will teach the rest of the students to sing these songs too and I have no doubt I will cry on Thursday, the final day, when their voices rise once more. Oh how I have loved, hated and nurtured this place!!

I walk through rooms of our house in the sunlight, gathering gifts for staff and student friends, giveaways to team, precious memories that will return with us to the U.S. I gather strength. I gather Spirit. I live in Intercession. And I believe.

S is a beautiful, elegant, wide-eyed and naive girl of 19. I met her in February of 2008 when she came to apply for a scholarship at Christ School Bundibugyo. She had recently been orphaned . . . . by Ebola. Raised by a sincerely loving, caring and affectionate father (though without a living mother), S was lost without the presence of her Dad.  Although our sponsorship program was full I was compelled by her story; by her eyes and by her soft-spoken desperation. I sought out a female doctor friend in the States and asked her to take S’s school fees on. She did.

S’s first months at school were hard. Among the oldest students, she was still bullied by the girls around her.  They teased her about her appearance (slightly tribally distinct), her way of speaking, her father’s death, her stepmother’s rejection of her . . . .   But she persevered and continued with her studies, performing among the top of her class all year.

This year she once again faced bullying and it was a bit too much for her.   She spent long hours remembering her father.  She once again faced rejection by her stepmother.  She began to feel hopeless and suicidal.  She grew weary.  One day she remembered what I had told her and the other orphans in one of our Sponsor meeting times.  “If you have a problem, find a teacher you trust and talk it through.  Or tell me.”  S went to P, one of her trusted teachers, and poured out her heart.  In response he gave her both thoughtful advice and the gospel.  Her life took a dramatic upward turn and S returned often  for counseling and prayer with P.    God used Pastor Brian’s messages during our crusades in July to spark new life in S.  She accepted Jesus and she hasn’t looked back since.

Now nearly finished with her Senior 6 UNEB exams, S isn’t sure where she’ll go next or how she’ll cope with her hostile stepmother or the stepsisters who so greatly resent her.  When I called her to our home to talk today she expressed the lack of possibilities in her future.  But I saw something beautiful in her face – hope.    And as I prayed with her after we talked, we remembered that she does have a Dad.  One even better than the one she lost so quickly and in such a hard way.

And I was reminded, This is Why we do What we do.

Wednesday night and staff are at our home as usual after the weekly meeting. I lean on the arm of my friend Illuminate’s chair in the dim and buggy light of solar power. We eat sombe (greens), matooke (mashed banana) and beans. We drink sweet sodas from glass bottles and we compete to win the prizes sometimes found under their metal tops.

And I notice:

That when we are with our school staff we are at ease. We laugh a lot. We pray from the heart (sometimes.) We speak deeply. We learn a lot. We relax. We feel at home.

This is a marvel. One more precious jewel of a miracle in our lives. A hard fought for gift. Simply Being, when you are crossing cultures, languages, tribes, colors, and denominations . . . is no small thing.

I can choose to make Thankfulness a way of life.

We will leave Christ School and the Bundibugyo Team in Febuary of 2010. This decision has not been made simply or easily.  Our hearts have broken more than once.  And they will break again before this is all over.  And it will never quite be all over.  Bundibugyo has taken us in and chewed us into something different, something stronger and better, something ready for a new challenge.  We’re not leaving ministry or a life given over to following Him.  We’re just leaving Bundibugyo, because He’s calling us on to whatever is next.

“Loss isn’t something we get over, it is something we get through. It doesn’t get easier, it gets harder because we love more deeply than before. It is worth it.”

– Sandi Bradford

As we publicly announce to our family, friends, and supporting churches that we are leaving our current field the responses flow in. Each one is precious and meaningful. Each one building and grounding. Thank you for responding. Thank you for loving us.

If you hear a lot of sorrow and grief in our words, if you sense loss in our hearts, don’t think we feel we have failed.  NOT AT ALL.  God has given us perfect success (though it didn’t all look the way we expected!)  Grief isn’t about regrets, it’s about the depth to which we’ve embraced our lives and experiences.  We’ve entered here deeply and well.   Leaving will be full of losses.  And this, my friends, is a sign of real gain.

“Proper mourning for the inevitable losses of our lives is an affirmation to their richness . . . .”

- Sandi Bradford

I’m taking grief one day at a time right now.  Today there were many tears.  A sweet friend came from America to enter the grief and transition with us, and her questions stirred the pot of my heart up.  Some days I am full of expectation and joy for the future, full of the successes of the last three and a half years.  Some days I yearn for all the things I wanted to do here that haven’t  yet come to pass.  On others I am reminded of how much more this experience has been than I could ever have imagined.  It’s all good.  Overall I appreciate and affirm that I, that WE ,have entered this life.  We have put our whole selves into this this country, this team, this community, this school.  Sometimes that has led to extraordinary pain.  Sometimes it has led to deep, deep pleasure.   I’m glad we dove in.  I’m ready to jump again.  Even though landing is going to hurt.

I would prefer a thousand mistakes in extravagance of love to any paralysis in wariness of fear.  – Gerald Mays

Saturday was a LONG day for the Christ School Board of Governors and for David, who served as secretary to them.

Hours after hours of questioning, discussing and eliminations finally led down to a unanimous vote from the members of the board.

Since our new HeadTeacher doesn’t know who he is yet, we won’t share his information here. But we do want to say thank you for praying. Thanks for partnering with us. And thanks to God that we can trust Him as we move Forward. Details will come soon!

Selecting the headmaster is a big step. It means we’re actually leaving!! It may also dictate when is best for us to leave. David is hard at work on ’10 budget which will be presented in draft form this week. I continue to feel called away from the office and into intercession. I am resisting but God is wearing me down. Pray for me to give in to Being with Him each day.

Three weeks away from the end of the year. Three to four months away from the end of our term in Bundibugyo. And God is BIG, bigger than any challenge, bigger than any grief.

Please pray

Today candidates will arrive to interview for the position of new Head Teacher for Christ School Bundibugyo. THe CSB board will spend ten hours in the process, asking questions, discussing, in break out sessions and ultimately, maybe, a vote.

It’s a scary thing, to all of us. So much rides on the Head Teacher. And so much corruption and hypocrisy as well as legalism reigns in leaders, especially here.

I’ll be at home with the kids, praying in the Spirit. David will be the secretary, taking minutes for the board but as outgoing Head Teacher without legal right to vote on the new one.

Our board is comprised of only two missionaries, two teachers and a number of other local representatives. So this will be one of the first steps ever of indigenous decision making.

We know God can do amazing things beyond what we can imagine. And we know He works through prayer to do them. Join us in praying through this day – Supernatural wisdom for each Board member. Supernatural transparency and honesty for each candidate – whether they intend it or not.