Last night we sat down to our family evening and broke bread together, Communion style. Candles were lit, meatballs and home made red sauce consumed, tiny portions of red juices taken to symbolize the blood, garden grown spinach topped with American salad dressing mix devoured. It was a meal to remember. A meal where God¹s presence was tangible. We talked with the kids about Passover, about how it was turned into a feasting with Jesus, a celebration of his life and death. We talked about how Jesus desires to feed us with Himself and the feeding of the five thousand as we broke into a beautifully round and crunchy loaf of home made wheat bread. I was reminded that the sometimes tiresome work of making break to keep my family fed is born for me by Jesus who promises never to run out, grow moldy or be consumed by tiny ants. I think this is the first communion where I ever met my brother Jesus so closely or sat by the feet of Daddy-God and leaned into Him so deep. It was just us, good food, a Bible and open ready THIRSTY hearts. It doesn¹t get better than that.

The last ten days with Brian and two consultants have been a whirlwind. I have pretty much laid aside all my normal work to focus on these two special projects yet I have been busy and tired. Encountering a demon face-to-face during our school prayer walk on Wednesday night did not help and yesterday morning I woke nauseas, achy and so tired I went back to bed for three more hours. Interestingly, when Brian prayed for me all the symptoms almost instantly disappeared. We and the school leadership have the sense that we have stirred the pot. That the work of healing and casting out this week has stirred up God¹s Spirit hear but also the spirits of opposition. We have no doubt Who will win but know the Battle will continue to be intense as Brian goes.

Our team has a planned vacation together over the next two days at the Queen Elizabeth gamepark so we will drive out together with Brian today then send him on to meet his plane in Entebbe while we head to the land of elephants and kob. It could not be a better time for us to get away for a day or two. David met with God deeply while with Brian and has much to process from that time. Consultants gave us options we hardly dared to hope or expect and I believe in faith that great change is on the horizon. We have much to think about in terms of spiritual development at the school post-Brian. And it would be great if we were able to reconnect with our team who we barely see these days . Pray for harmony and healing, rest and renewal, peace and perspective.

Saturday night we called the school together for our first ³crusade². We titled it a ³Prayer Service² but regardless it created much excitement among students and a sense of expectation among us all. With cooperative efforts we pulled together a night event on the football pitch complete with lantern lighting, a center aisle and a staging area. It was simple but it worked.

There was beautiful student led worship and a powerful message from Brian titled ³Who is your father?² The message came through loud, clear and relevantly: choose your father, Satan or God. Satan is a terrible Father. God is the best one you could ever imagine.

Seventy students came forward to accept Jesus as their Savior.

Kneeling in the dark, wet grass behind the students throughout the event, I prayed prayers of deepest intercession for God to break through in power. It was pretty amazing to watch Him do so.

Vasco is here. Our second educational consultant has experience as the head of a major church group¹s schools, a total of around 8000 schools in Uganda, I hear. He comes in with real hands-on experience and a comfort in working with people that sets us all at ease. He introduced himself by name, title and with an explanation of his wife and seven children, but most importantly to me, he introduced himself as ³born again and saved by the grace of Jesus.² Hearing that in a professional introduction blesses my heart and gives me hope. Thankfully he also seems to have an ability to really grasp some of the underlying core issues we are dealing with as a school. Within the first hour or two of his time here, all of us are realizing that he is going to be a huge help. He has cut straight to some of the biggest issues and really heard a variety of voices. I am praising God for his presence here.

This morning God¹s promise so many months ago came clearly to mind, as did the journey of our time at CSB. The first eight months of last year was a process of surviving transition and seeing the problems. The first six months of this year have been a slow and weighty process of trying to communicate those issues and seek the right kinds of help. Throughout all those months I have clung to a promise I received from God during the very dark months of December and January: ³ I have come to give life and life abundantly.² We are not here for survival and our goal is not merely to keep the school running or the students alive. Our hope and promise from God Himself is the promise of thriving, abundant life ­ for both us and those we serve. Believe in faith with me, because Jesus CONTINUES to be enough.

As Ajeku put it so succinctly at our meeting last night: ³Instead of thinking like a Christian, you¹ve got to think like God!!²

Help my unbelief.

From the parable of the Centurion¹s Son, these words developed into a theme for our time with Brian earlier this week during a prayer and discussion time with two of our Ugandan staff. I can¹t think of a better description of where we¹re at, as a school but also as individuals. We see God longing to bring in the power of the Holy Spirit, to make us foolish to proclaim His wisdom and we have FAITH that He can do more than we can imagine, yet our unbelief still holds us back.

But we¹re believing His miraculous power over our unbelief and asking for His help. Tomorrow Christ School will hold an all-school evening prayer service on the football pitch. And in the three days following Brian will lead Prayer Seminars to teach us more about intercession, deliverance and healing . . .what faith looks like in action. Today and tomorrow, Brian and David are fasting and praying together in retreat, and the kids and I are holding down the fort, I mean school. I feel intense spiritual opposition in the form of mental, spiritual and emotional exhaustion and Naomi came down with a fever this evening. I take all this as a sign that God is about to move and that Satan¹s fighting back. So it¹s all good.

Consultant number one gave us some great ideas and is home in Kampala writing up his official report. Please continue to pray for his thought process and our choices as a mission/school for the future. Pray too for our hearts. The one thing that is certain is that CHANGE is ahead. And I get a little tired of change. Consultant number 2 comes on Monday evening and we are thrown back into introducing, discussing, explaining and hoping.

We believe God, help our unbelief.

One of our dearest friends, Brian, arrived from the States this afternoon. His visit is long-awaited and much needed and the minutes-long hug that David gave him inches from the MAF mini-plane door said it all. David needed him. He¹s here. (And yes, I cried when they hugged like that.)

My joy is only tempered by the sadness that his wife Amy, one of MY best friends, is not here too. The original plan was for the whole family to join us for a month. But seems God had other ideas. Aim sent about a ton of American goodies (which we are still anticipating opening!) as her contribution to Brian¹s visit (well, not to mention sending her HUSBAND.)

People have been seriously dying here, I¹m not sure why there is such a convergence of death but there seem to be burials everyday. Today David and Brian stopped in briefly at the burial of one of the biggest men in our area¹s, daughter. Almost everyone in our little community was there; friends, workers, and fellow missionaries. And just now when I stepped outside to check on the kids, I discovered Naomi and her friends ³burying² a whole family of stones complete with the culturally accepted grave markings and planted trees to commemorate the dead. I guess the death is impacting their minds as well.
Our first educational consultant is here and he¹s keeping us all very busy. Meetings with various interested parties are going on non-stop and we have been learning a lot from the interactions. Please continue to pray for his work and the decisions that will come out of it.

Or maybe I should title this post, ³having my tent stolen.²
I recently read a story about Jill and Jane out camping in a tent. Halfway through the night, Jill woke Jane and said ³what do you see?² Jane began waxing eloquent on the beauties of the milky way, the constellations and various stars. But Jill cut her off to say ³ you idiot, the tent¹s been stolen!!² While Jill was focused on the problem at hand and a need for protection and safety, Jane¹s mind was busily appreciating a new perspective and a bigger view. Laurie Beth Jones comments on this story, ³I love the idea of Jesus coming as a thief in the night to steal our Œtent¹ – the tent of our limited perspective ­ the tent of our fragile and segmented understandings ­ the tent that we think is keeping us safe but is really just keeping us from seeing the universe. Like children huddled in a tent in the back yard, we talk to each other in the light of our little flashlights, considering ourselves bold adventurers ­ but we haven¹t even explored beyond our own yard. If only we would would open our eyes . . . . . If only we could see not just the tent that¹s been stolen but our suddenly expanding view of the universe. Watch out, oh you who desire growth.² (From ³Jesus, Life Coach²)

Last week my tent got stolen. It hasn¹t been a fun experience and there¹s a long road to walk yet. Quinn was deeply betrayed by a Ugandan friend who he has invested so much heart and life in. And in the process there is much pain. Cross cultural friendship is an area where all of us have struggled and ached and yearned and tried to move beyond ourselves, beyond our desires and abilities to grow and be grown by others. It¹s an area where we have seen so much positive movement, seen the Holy Spirit work in such amazing ways, and gained so much joy. So when Satan attacks us in this area of friendship, we hurt because we question whether we have walked the right path. I rethink the choices I have made to encourage my children¹s hearts towards others, to push our lives closer to our friends lives. I question God who seems to have asked me to live this way.

Yet I sense in my spirit an abiding thankfulness that Jesus has stolen my tent. Not that he authored this difficult experience, or that he desires our suffering, but that He IS allowing us to see the bigger universe, He¹s expanding our views. I can not blame myself for my children¹s pain when it is so clearly not my fault. I can not believe that I have chosen to live wrong. I can instead, see that God led me down a path that was not easy to begin with and has gotten even more difficult now, because he wants me to explore farther than my own backyard. He has a big world of people and places, emotions and resources and experiences that he intends us to have. This is somehow a part of that. Not a good part but a part that will be MADE good.

I am not happy my tent has been stolen. I want it back. I want safety back, a sense of (at least limited) security, of shelter. But the first thing God said to me when all this began was ³ I can heal this too.² Nothing is beyond his healing touch, his loving encounters. His presence is real and manifest in every situation in our lives. And He is holding my hand and Quinn¹s through this journey of betrayal. As Jesus said to me back in January, ³ you haven¹t been here before, but I have and I will show you the way.²

I have been holed up at home with my bunchkins ( kids) a lot this last week. Here¹s some news of our days:
* Naomi, Quinn and their friend Ephraim have created a clubhouse. Ephraim is being raised in an English-speaking Ugandan home so our kids don¹t struggle as much with language and cross-cultural issues with him. However, it¹s still different than an American friendship. Thus reads the sign on the clubhouse: ³ Yammm!!! No Elders allowed in this clubhouse!!² (by which I think he means: ³ important point, no grownups!²) Whenever I appear around a corner to walk by and peek in on what¹s happening, Ephraim yells, ³INTERRUPTION!² – a very Ugandan comment which always cracks me up. * Naomi is studying World War I in Sonlight History and loves it (as she does all history). The kids have begun using hoes, shovels and pick axes to dig ³trenches² in the piles of dirt in the yard. They bring in goldfish crackers smuggled from America for ³rations². * We had a 4th of July bonfire for the kids ­ as the only Americans in town over the weekend we had to ³resort² to sharing the holiday with Ugandans. We had fun roasting hot dogs (from Kampala) and marshmallows (from America ­ thanks Brook and Doug!) with about fifteen students who remained on campus over the mid-term long weekend. We forced them to listen to Wee Sing America on the ipod stereo and showed them Narnia. * Naomi is gardening like crazy. She has maize, soy beans, tomatoes and dodo coming up as well as a few more american crops like cauliflower and sunflowers. Each morning she goes out and checks on her plants as if they are babies. She surely got her Gramma Elizabeth and Grampa Steve¹s green thumbs. Everything she touches seems to grow beautifully and she has tender concern for each plant. Her soy beans are almost read to harvest and I never helped her a bit! * We got a clogged kitchen drain so workers have come in to dig up half our backyard and open the pipe. I¹m thankful for kitchen drains and folks who know how to open them so that David doesn¹t have to. * We ate gonza bananas for dinner last night with a sausage red sauce. These foot and a half long bananas are peeled, halved and steamed and make a dish much like boiled potatoes except they¹re, well, bananas. If you can get over eating bananas with a red sauce they are quite delicious. Naomi isn¹t there yet. * I discovered that rats have made my sheets and blankets into nesting materials. They have used these nesting materials to build a complex fortified house inside the broiler and back workings of the stove. Additionally they seem immune to the poison we bought. Great. * I put a desk in our small food storage room so that I have a quiet and hidden place to work when I¹m at home ­ free from the eyesite of visitors. I sit in there very quietly to read and write and contemplate. When you sit very quietly in the food storage area you can hear the sound of chewing. I investigated and discovered that it is hundreds of tiny weevils that have attacked the pasta we carried from the city. They are hatching inside the bags and multiplying daily. The sound of their chewing is surprisingly irritating. * Naomi is on a Beverly Cleary reading blitz. So far this week we have read aloud five of her books. Naomi is quite taken with Ramona. Quinn likes to listen in too, except when he is too busy fighting fantasy opponents. N and Q have developed a beautiful and complex ³Klickitat Street² in their playmobil area. It is fantastic and so fun to hear them talking to each other as if they are reading from a book: ³I won¹t!!, said Ramona.² ³Well, you¹d better, said her father.² All while holding up the playmobil figures who are Henry, Beezus, etc. I like the child psychology wrapped into the text and the way it stimulates conversations about how kids and grown ups think and the misunderstanding that arise between us. * African friends told Naomi and Quinn that Obama should not have won. They wanted McCain to win because ³whites should rule whites and blacks rule blacks.² N and Q informed their friends seriously that Americans come in all colors and Obama is in charge of a melting pot or a mixing bowl or something like that ­ Americans of all races and persuasions. American politics even in Africa! * Quinn has suddenly gotten good at games. At six and a half he is beautifully half baby and half kid. His amazingly adorable cheeks dimples, feet, voice and pronunciations and infectious giggle are all tot but many of his thoughts, dreams and abilities are all big-kid. I am constantly surprised to find how half and half he still is. Yesterday he amazed me by playing so successfully at Skip Bo, a fairly complex card game. Uncle James and Aunt Ali better watch out! * Naomi¹s good friend, Nyakato (which means the second born twin) has come down with a case of typhoid. Naomi is very worried about her.
There are so many more stories to tell but I¹ll stop here for now since all but the grandparents have stopped reading long ago . . . .

Craig and Dick arrived on Saturday afternoon – fresh as could be even after twenty two hours of flying and another seven of driving in their efforts to drop in for a visit. Craig (a children’s pastor) and Dick (a lay elder and businessman) are emissaries from our home church, Mariners, in Annapolis. They came carrying hugs, letters, snacks and gifts and much needed encouragement from the home front for those of us here on the front lines. I had waited for their hugs and I was not disappointed. Thanks for coming, dear ones, thanks for journeying to Africa to walk beside us this week.

They have fallen right into life with us, sleeping on our futon couch, snug as two bugs in their thick mosquito net cocoon. Each day brings new adventures in their efforts to understand, capture and document our lives here for the church family back home. They have preached at a local church, toured the health center, attended our student services, prayed over our kitchen workers and leadership team, played four on a couch with the team, watched Naomi walk into her Ugandan classroom, spent the night in a local Ugandan home where folks had never seen a white face before and listened, listened, listened to our stories, our hearts and our struggles. We are so thankful for THEIR hearts, their ears, their willingness to step into our world.

Tomorrow will bring other surprises, a hike to the local 270 ft waterfall and a chance to speak to a chapel full of students as well as praying, learning and feasting with our local staff. Craig is eager to jump into student football games and they have both committed to meeting all the orphan students that Mariners families sponsor. We’ve got a great two and a half days left before they fly out on Friday. Pictures to come, now that we’ve got a working camera again!!!

As Kevin miraculously recovers from his heart accident (www.kwegisya.blogspotcom), CSB miraculously calms. There has been no further signs of student unrests since we spontaneously met with students for prayer for Kevin on Thursday night. And though many of the problems that led to the tension are still unresolved, students seem to have taken a higher road of negotiation and discussion. Amazing to see God’s timing play out here on the ground.

We have been able to give staff daily updates on Kevin and they have responded with appropriate amazement. As we described the shocks given to restart his heart and the ice used to cool his body and reduce the potential for brain damage along with the medications used to put him in a coma, staff listened in awe. But through our hopelessness we continued to pray with hope and expectation. We prayed that Joseph, Ruisa (Louisa), Nate and Savannah would not be orphans. And it is with incredible joy that we laugh as we hear that Kevin is not only walking, talking and eating again but that he is back to cracking jokes!!

Last night ended with the bell ringing to end preps, as usual, but with another sound as well. The sound of death in the town. Around ten pm the wailing started – loud, long and unnervingly hysterical. Many, many women crying out for someone dearly loved and not expected to die. It was this morning that we got the news, a former CSB staff member lost his wife in childbirth, effectively also losing his child. Grieving is intense, because this man had the money to pay for care to ensure this wouldn’t happen. Yet this is life in Bundibugyo; a cycle of life and death of sorrow and rejoicing and all of us walking along the edge of these things day in and day out. We pray for God’s kingdom to come.