“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you. Not as the world gives. Let not your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27

My pastor wrote that perfected love is love inhaled from God and exhaled onto others; drawing me to the conclusion that perfect peace is the inhalation of God’s peaceful omniscience so that we live lives not of knowing all but of total trust. No more what-if’s; how would that feel??

I am reminded that there might be an occasional benefit from fear; an adrenaline response can save your life. But there is no benefit from worry. Worry steals our joy while getting us nowhere - it poses as responsible concern and continues to waste our precious time and hearts.

God keeps bringing a certain verse into my life; “God’s mercies are new every morning . . .” Lamentations 3:23. And as Alan Wright says (the guy who got me thinking through all of this); God gives grace for actual needs, not potential problems. God says in Hebrews that He will give us ” Grace to help in time of need.” Not when we’re imagining a problem or dreading a potential problem or considering the possibility of a problem. Can I wake each morning with the joy of a baby - fully rested, and that’s enough? Can I let God’s mercies sustain me each new day without worrying about what’s come before or what I imagine might be sure to come later?

I won’t bore you with my list of what-if’s. The fact is; the things which have brought me the greatest joy in my life have been the biggest risks. Marriage was a huge risk - and boy has it paid off. And each child is another risk of all of our hearts; choosing once more to let it walk around outside of our bodies. Living life is a constant risk - especially in some of the places and times God has called us to. Saying goodbye to those we love feels like more risk.

We experience God’s peace not by a greater understanding of what’s ahead but by a deeper sense of how little we know. Babies rest in peace because they have nothing to fear; they may wake with hunger but they won’t spend hours dreading it’s arrival. And this is true for us as well. Relaxing into a childlike realization of our finite understanding forces us to rest in the omniscient One. And the omniscient One says, ” fear not for I am with you.” God teaches that it is in our weakness that we become strong. In the same way it is in our lack of knowing that we know that which is most important - He’s got it ALL covered.

We hear in the news and through the grapevine about the financial crisis in America. It’s rather hard to imagine. Is the whole thing like a balloon with a little too much air in it? Just ready to pop? I have trouble feeling as disturbed as I should by the stock market and the real estate losses. I just want to know how all this affects the big picture of world economics and how much we ourselves are responsible for. Do we create this havoc as we do so much other havoc - by demanding more than the world was meant to give?

Food prices are skyrocketing in our little town of Nyhuka. When we arrived one and a half years ago, 800 shillings could buy a cooked meal at the local “restaurants.” That’s about fifty cents. Now, this short time later, the price has nearly doubled to 1,500 shillings for a comparable meal. Rice is selling for nearly twice what it used to; so are beans. And from what we read in the online papers - this food shortage is widespread. Soon, they say, as the rich get richer, the poor of the world will simply cease to survive.

Apparently this lack of food has to do with choices us rich people make (I might not seem rich to you; but believe me, relatively speaking, I am.) As we focus more on biofuels we divert for our own uses the cheap, easily grown grains that the less affluent use for filling their stomachs and gaining their calories. And as the wealthy parts of the world eat more meats, the less wealthy end up with even less of their normal grain diets. Our meat uses an unbelievable amount of their grain to get to the table. Running on biofuels, our energy uses even more of what their bodies need simply to survive. This is simply what I read, you understand. And because I’m a rich American with choices; I choose how much I want to know and how much I want to ignore.

I don’t have answers to these problems, and I’m going to avoid offering cliched solutions. I’m just taking this chance to notice, to observe the casualties. To realize that the painful prices of fuel affects our way of life so little in comparison to the lives of the poverty-stricken across the globe. To notice that the average annual income in Uganda is $300 and to realize that our part of Ugandan falls far, far below the median of that average. We have choices about how we will live. They are hard choices but important ones, because they affect lives. God cares about the least and about those of us more privileged with affluence. Solutions are there to the problems if we look to the true Answer Man. And I’m preaching to myself here, as I find comfort in a car with fuel, meat hauled from the city, and care packages sent at great expense from home. Where is the balance of enjoying good gifts with protecting those less fortunate? Truly hard to say.

Wilson, our “old-boy” (alumna) who has come back to work for the school kitchen as our procurement officer - spending more in a month than many here have ever seen or touched in a lifetime - has experienced more than his share of hardships for us.

Last time it was being robbed at machete-point. This time it was a wrongful arrest on the Congolese marketplace where he travels weekly to find lower food prices on our staples of corn flour, beans, and rice. Congolese officials are understandably jumpy (not to mention corrupt). An “unknown” person buying large amounts of food is suspected to be a rebel supplier and so, just a few miles from our home, Wilson spent the night in Congolese jail. David did a lot of learning in a few hours and got both an internal security officer and a “fixer” who works both sides of the border, to head West towards Wilson. A day later and he is back at work, none the worse for the wear. We paid a small “fine” for the trouble Wilson supposedly caused and we built new relationships with Congolese and Ugandan officials.

We were at team meeting on Thursday night when David got the phone call that Wilson was in jail. And David led us in prayer, that God would bring surprising goodness out of this seemingly bad situation -that we would soon be grateful for this arrest. And to my amazement that prayer seems to be coming true. Congolese army and government officials gave him the full-ahead green light to continue crossing the borders and buying foods, due to the interventions of our the Ugandan internal security officer. Now Wilson is known to Congolese security and will hopefully have safe passage in the coming months and years. Good reminder for my sometimes faith-less heart, that God DOES have a plan.

David headed off to the city Monday morning; to pick up stationary from the Ministry of Education, for the official Ugandan exams which will begin in a little over a week. A quick several day trip that did not warrant the hassle or expense of all of us going - especially as we are savoring our last week with the Masso family and preparing emotionally for the goodbyes over the next four days.

Life goes on, though. Monday night my book study group joined me to hear more of Captivating together. I reveled in having real friends to fellowship with, to share my time away from David with. We ate, talked and discussed till ten pm leaving me too tired to miss David much. And I was SO not alone. As I headed off to bed by 11 the drums of Eid started, reminding me that I am more surrounded than I ever needed to be. Ramadan has ended, the celebrations begin.
I got to spend the last few days being somewhat in charge of school, the go-to woman: the woman with the keys: the woman with the money: the woman with the ear of The H/M. Someday, maybe, I’ll have a life of my own.
Now here we are, two days later and David has driven in, filling our house back up with life and joy because some of us are just not enough. The kids are overcome with their need to share every minutes with him and I am eager to tell him what CSB is like without its’ headmaster!

We survived; Muslim holiday, rowdy chapel service, escaping rabbits, and suspended students returning to threaten others, notwithstanding. And we are the stronger for having done so.

My most recent read, A Chance at Childhood Again, states ” Every child knows that adults are bigger, stronger, more well-equipped and IN CHARGE. That’s a child’s secret to accessing heaven.”

So I’m SUPPOSED to let go?? I struggle with responsibility . . . One of my greatest fears is not coming through where I’m supposed to. Missing my responsibilities. Cause what if I was supposed to do it and I let it slip? . . . But if God’s the grown-up here, then that leaves me still a kid. I can do my best without worrying because Someone is there to help me pick up the pieces.

Four students were sent home for their parents yesterday with still indefinite outcomes (suspension? Expulsion?). And two others were expelled for other reasons. Not a great week for student retention. My heart is torn between wishing that each of these kids would stay and get the help they need here and between knowing that these children are a danger to a productive community and need different help than we’re currently equipped to give. We are not a counseling center or a juvenile delinquincy program - though we sometimes feel we should be.

Walking through the quad two days ago I almost stumbled over a dead half-a-kitten. I had to do a double take since cats are not common here and since half a small cat is a little tricky to recognize. But more easy to recognize is the meaning: half-animals are witchcraft omens here. When someone wants to curse you they cut a live animal in half and place it on your property. We have duly been cursed. I’m sure it’s not the first time, but it’s the most obvious. It doesn’t feel terribly frightening but neither does it seem as innocuous and silly as it would in the States. Witchcraft is real. It’s powerful and it kills people all the time. Satan has power and domination here in ways I have not encountered before. We see it all around; one student that is facing discipline is suspected of possession due to her actions. And I have regularly sat in chapel and watched students pour forth under-their-breath hateful and disturbing statements that seemed not to come from their own minds or volitions. When I pray for them silently, heavily and fiercely against demonic influence, their eyes can’t hold mine but dart anxiously. The spirits answering back in fear.

Two days ago I took an early morning prayer walk around campus as the sun was rising in orange glory. Our football pitch is circled by Scotticus’s running track. I passed the gates, the classrooms and quad and came back towards our house at one end of the pitch. The mountains rose dark and beautiful before me - our school hidden in their shadow valley. As I walked God gave me a vision - a vision of angels encircling our fence line, swords drawn, every ten feet. A vision of heavenly gatekeepers at our gate, guarding the chosen city of God. A vision of God’s glory around, before and behind the school. Is this a someday promise of what God has for us? Or a current reality that is hard to see?

Gunfire sounded as we lay in bed late last night and we were both up, dressing in moments. Nothing came from it, as usual - just normal town violence. But our hearts are ready for danger, ready for fear, no matter how peaceful life is. I plan, subconsciously, in seconds, how to get my kids out safely. David plans for the 400 others in our care. Have we missed something? What have we forgotten? Standing in our pitch black front yard moments later, I listen to the sounds of night life returning. The town calms back to normal as the gunfire is not repeated. And I remember what I have forgotten, what I so often miss. I am not in charge here. God is the grown-up and I am the kid who is trying but who will stumble, forget, and be normally inadequate. My best plans will fail and yet He will come through.

And so, it seems, that the vision of our guarding angels wasn’t anything too extraordinary - just a glimpse of normal life here at school, that I usually forget to see. His watchmen are guarding us, because our Daddy would NEVER leave us alone. We will forget, lose track, and fail - He stands sure and ever-knowing.

Now it’s the s3 students who are organizing - Caleb Myhre’s class. I walked into his classroom today and saw his pale face gazing deeply at me from the sea of black faces around him and just smiled. Senior 3’s seem to be following the lead of a student new at school this year; they are claiming to be some sort of organized militia or rebel group and are threatening to burn the school and hurt students who don’t cooperate. They are senior 3 students - juniors in high school - and we know that they want attention and to be important. But when I encountered a girl crying in the quad today and heard her story of having her life threatened; it felt serious.

David and the discipline committee are in meetings right now to find a course of action; as always it is one person’s word against another’s and the details are hard to sort out. Pray for wisdom and safety.

As I was walking back from this conversation I passed another classroom where I heard a teacher stating: “Fact. Women’s emancipation is a waste of time.” - not an encouraging message. I spent the next twenty minutes eavesdropping (yes, I do stoop so low when the cause is good) on a conversation on women’s rights in which the girls were bitterly misrepresented. It’s frustrating when this teacher has a history of borderline issues with sexual harassment, and is accused of pressuring girls at the school for physical favors. But once again, difficult to find the real story, difficult to see the real truth. I really appreciate David who seeks to know people as they are and to treat them not as problems but as human beings. Whenever I find a staff member that should ” clearly go!” because of their behavior, David points out their values and why he is not ready to give up on them yet. Hmmm. . . . Seems like Jesus treats ME that way too.

David sent the students back to their dorms from preps an hour early last night, after the big celebration that kept them very busy all day. He did it mostly for the masters on duty who had been going since five thirty am and were ready for a break. Throughout evening preps David stopped in regularly to check in on the mood. Though we did not feel particularly threatened by the promises of rioting, it’s always better to be safe. Keeping a close eye on crowd situations is one of our best chances to disperse violence early before it grows to real danger. But students were calm, if noisy, discussing their day.

Today was a good Saturday . . .visitors, home projects, a sleepover for the kids with a great friend from Fort Portal and lots more rain. We are at the peak of the rainy season now and everything is soaked including our mountain road out which is nearly impassable and the airstrip which is unlandable - let’s hope we don’t need to leave.

After a week and a half of intermittent vomiting, diahrea and low-grade fevers Naomi broke out this evening in the spectacular denghe-style rash. No way to know what she actually has, could be something viral. But this full-body pin-point rash has turned her hot pink and is something to take notice of! She is still feeling crummy so pray for her. She and Quinn are both on antibiotics for staph wounds in their legs and we are thinking about another detox treatment for all concerned.

So passes Saturday and students are quiet again tonight. Staff seem positive. David, as usual, is chilled out and I take comfort in this rock of a man I married. Over our last break God really met David in his fears about the school and he was able to “hand it over” - releasing the responsibility he had been feeling for the well-being and safety of the school. Now it’s really God’s deal and I can feel the dramatic chance in his posture; hard days are hard but the anxiety is gone.

I’m still reading through our stack of encouraging cards from the people of Mariners - and the most outstanding thing God has been speaking to me from them all comes through this verse which was printed in different ways on several different cards . . . . .

” The service that you perform is not only supplying the needs of God’s people but is also overflowing in many expressions of thanks to God.” 2 Corinthians 9:12

A few weeks ago my friend Yvette sent me an email message that said, ” I want you to know I think you are important. I think what you are doing is important. I think it is a gesture so great and big that whether anyone ever comes to the Lord or not, HE will know you LOVE Him.” And I had to stop and do a double take and say, Oh yea! This is all about HIM! It’s enough for me just to pour out my heart and life before him, even if I have trouble seeing the fruit I long for.

I know that He knows I am here because I love Him and that I stay because I trust Him, and that I work because I believe He has the power to do more than I ask or imagine. Even though Satan has had success in distracting me from God’s work by giving me self-doubts, fears about my competency, fears about my effectiveness . . . . I have never doubted that I am here as praise-offering for my Savior. And perhaps that is quite enough. If my life is overflowing in many expressions of praise to God than I can be content with whatever needs I am able to supply and accept that I will not and can not do all that I wish.

Becoming overwhelmed by the need is a trick. I can focus in on how many, many lives at CSB need total transformation by the Holy Spirit, and I can feel like a failure. Or I can focus in on the seven girls I passed on the way to the office this morning who gave me that special secret smile that says, ” I know you’ve got my side”. I can focus in on how little evangelism I am doing these days or I can remember that over this year sixty orphans have heard the gospel in startling ways and many have responded with amazement and surprise. And through it all I can remember that my life here is a sweet fragrance to Him and that He delights in what I am doing and will supply all my lacks.

Pastor Bill, my American pastor, wrote: “The secret to true life is inhale and exhale the power and love of God. The more deeply we inhale His love the more powerfully we breath it out on all we serve.” Today I am inhaling, deep belly breaths, remembering how pure, how great, how unshakable His love is. And the beauty of this is that not only do I get filled up with His love but I spill that love out to the people around me.

David sent the students back to their dorms from preps an hour early last night, after the big celebration that kept them very busy all day. He did it mostly for the masters on duty who had been going since five thirty am and were ready for a break. Throughout evening preps David stopped in regularly to check in on the mood. Though we did not feel particularly threatened by the promises of rioting, it’s always better to be safe. Keeping a close eye on crowd situations is one of our best chances to disperse violence early before it grows to real danger. But students were calm, if noisy, discussing their day.

Today was a good Saturday . . .visitors, home projects, a sleepover for the kids with a great friend from Fort Portal and lots more rain. We are at the peak of the rainy season now and everything is soaked including our mountain road out which is nearly impassable and the airstrip which is unlandable - let’s hope we don’t need to leave.

After a week and a half of intermittent vomiting, diahrea and low-grade fevers Naomi broke out this evening in the spectacular denghe-style rash. No way to know what she actually has, could be something viral. But this full-body pin-point rash has turned her hot pink and is something to take notice of! She is still feeling crummy so pray for her. She and Quinn are both on antibiotics for staph wounds in their legs and we are thinking about another detox treatment for all concerned.

So passes Saturday and students are quiet again tonight. Staff seem positive. David, as usual, is chilled out and I take comfort in this rock of a man I married. Over our last break God really met David in his fears about the school and he was able to “hand it over” - releasing the responsibility he had been feeling for the well-being and safety of the school. Now it’s really God’s deal and I can feel the dramatic chance in his posture; hard days are hard but the anxiety is gone.

It means “survival” in our local language - as in, weebale kwejuna, thank you for surviving (childbirth) - our tribe’s typical stoic congratulatory greetings to the postpartum mother.

Weebale kwejuna was how I greeted David yesterday as he finally arrived home from a solid six hours of singing, speeches, dramas, complaints and finally a feast that comprises the annual Parents Day at CSB.

I must be a wimp, because I decided not to go to Parents Day festivities. I helped a little in the morning with organization before the big event started but once my kids came home from school I stayed with them and the others who trickled in and out of our house on their way to or from. I ventured down to the assembly hall briefly to hear ten minutes of speeches and as usual, heard the very hardest one.

The student representative blasted the school in what all the attending missionaries agreed was the harshest and most negative student speech in CSB history. Along with an endless litany of complaints and accusations there were three promises of rioting should things not change. The complaints were very articulately and logically presented; giving me a strange sense of pride at the student’s clever politicking, and in English no less! He was clearly representing the interests of his constituents, even though it was quite difficult to hear. Many of the accusations were false, misrepresented or at best exaggerated. This is the life of teenagers everywhere. Drama, discontent and a lust for change and progress. It’s good stuff if we can help them channel it.

Standing on nearby steps for a better view, though, I just felt a sick ball of anger and sadness in my stomach. I went home to burst into tears or punch someone. The desire to run away is strong at these moments. These are not helpless sweet babies holding out their arms for a piece of candy and slowly recovering from the brink of death. They are strong, aggressive and often hostile young people who are learning what it means to have a voice and who have much anger to express. They’re not the most forgiving group to work with, nor the easiest to help.

I sat and stewed for hours following my brief glimpse of the speeches but was later reassured when David and others arrived to debrief the day with me. As David said, except for the student speech the day went very well. The parents’ representative speech supported the school and the students in positive ways. David’s speech was able to positively, transparently and honestly respond to the student and parent concerns and point to God at the same time. Answered prayers that God would speak through him. And Scott wound up the day with his “chairman, board of governors” speech which soundly denounced threats of student violence and firmly supported the staff and administration of the school. What a great feeling to have Scott and Jennifer beside us through these ordeals; they know the real stuff as it happens in the school and they stand with us to face false accusations. It’s a picture of God with us. I texted David as the meetings began ” God is your reputation - you cannot fail.” And I do believe that, in my better moments.

Watching students prepare for the day and tour their parents around the school I felt a stronger sense of what we are up against than I usually do. Students did not dress smartly and formally in their uniforms but untucked and slouched at every chance possible. And while parents all over Uganda had very firm standards for discipline in their children, our parents here barely seemed to notice their daughter’s inappropriately shortened uniform skirts or provocatively worn platform shoes. It gave me a better sense of what we are up against. Parents don’t know what to do. They don’t know how to guide their kids through these years. They send them to us in hopes that we do. And it makes it a lot harder fighting these battles without their support, as, I suppose, teachers find is true everywhere.

David and I wound up our day with a candlelit dinner after the kids went to bed; worrying about money once again and firming up our plans to form far stricter academic and discipline policies for students. Yes, we will lose some students who do not have the heart to apply themselves but in the process we will give those who do a far better chance at success. We are not afraid to lose some if those who remain can experience true transformation. But to do this right we need the wisdom of Solomon or better yet, the supernatural leading of the Holy Spirit. And we badly need your prayers.