Rat toilets and Hut building...

 Ha!  I've learned a LOT of things in the last 6 weeks of my life... and today, I think I learned something new..... something that caught my attention.  I'm pretty sure RATS are cleaner rodents than we think they are... I am pretty sure that I have been driving my current car for the last 6 weeks with a rat toilet in the glove compartment.  Like Literally.  Full stop.  I haven't seen any poop anywhere in the car.  The remnants of Urine... yes, that smell greeted us the first time I opened the car door and has never fully gone away.  The smell often sneaks up on long drives or early in the morning when the rain is pressing out the sun.  And so, in preparation for trading out our current car for a more reliable car, I decided that I would clean it.  I pulled out the brush (no vacuum) and a spray bottle first of thieves (I love that smell!) and then a bottle of half vinegar/half water.... and I went to town.  To be honest, I'm not sure that thieves, vinegar, and stale rat urine are going to make for a very good car ride that is going to happen in about 10 minutes... but nonetheless, I tried.  And then I thought, I should clean out the glove compartment.  I knew I needed to grab the registration book.  And shortly after opening it, I found it AND also... The RAT toilet.  There was POOP everywhere.... EVERYWHERE! It was disgusting to say the least.  I grabbed my thieves and I sprayed like crazy... and then I grabbed my roll of paper towels that are so expensive one must save them for rainy days... and by golly, this was a rainy day moment.  My mind kept thinking of the diseases that rats carry and then it hit me... for the amount of rat poop hanging out in the glove compartment.... there were either a LOT of rats making this 1998 Toyota Rav 4 home... OR there were a few that lived there for a LONG time... Either way.... my big learn of the day is that Rats are more something than I thought.  

There you go, the deep thought of the day.   And I'm sure there should be a deep thought forming in my heart connected to the rat poop.  I'm letting it simmer inside my heart to see if any profound thoughts happen.  But in the meantime, I've since returned after dousing my car with thieves and vinegar... and well, neither of those products do miracles in rectifying a rat bathroom problem.  Just saying.  No need to try it yourself.  

But in all seriousness,  here I sit at the near end of another week. It's been just over 6 weeks since Josiah and I landed into Uganda.   Our house is becoming our home.  My feet are more than dipping into work and Josiah has finished a MUCH better week at school.   He is currently outside discussing with his friend, Manday how to construct a HUT.  He wants it not only for himself, but also in preparation for when his cousin comes to visit.  Ha, I hope his cousin reads this post... because Josiah listened to him and he has already cleared the land.... the debate has been on whether or not it should be a mud hut or bamboo.  Bamboo is not preferred by Josiah.  Mud is not by me.... Ha, there is no Oxo-clean here.  But hey, whatever joys his heart.  

I still haven't quite come up with a good connection between Rat toilets and our transition to Uganda.  So alas, I'll share some of the highlights of these last weeks in Uganda.   

Our landlady is a gem.  She often brings us traditional Ugandan food and one night came to wash our feet.  Josiah wasn't up for having his feet washed, so JaJa (term of endearment similar to grandma) washed Josiah's hands and spoke words of affirmation over him.  

Josiah is absorbing the warmth of the sun and while he seems to be a bit (k, a lot!) flustered by boiled chicken feet, he spends hours chasing monkey's, birds, and other such things... 

Rachel is a young women from my days at New Hope.  She came to Jinja for a visit and stayed for a handful of days.  We were able to catch up, pray together, and live life.  It was great having her be with us and I look forward to more visits! 

Josiah has become fast friends with Manday.  He is our security guard and he and Josiah spend hours running the yard doing all the things mentioned above.  

Hadassah Sue spent the first 3 weeks with us.  It was great having her.  She was such a help and a presence in the early days of being here.  She and Josiah got on like siblings and Hadassah and I shared sweet conversations, laughter, and all things in between. Hadassah is currently in nursing school... and who knows... may one day find her way back here.... 

I have two weekend trips organized to connect with ministries out in the "bush".    Medical outreaches will be held later this summer.  I LOVE medical outreaches.... well, to be honest, LOVE might be a bit of a tricky word.  I DEEPLY appreciate the opportunity to connect with people through medical care.  So many do not have basic, needed medical care.  The amount of work in organizing... well, that is not necessarily my most favorite part.  But it's part of the process and I am so thankful for the fruit of the work.    The following pics are from a medical outreach from years back.... 

And here are a few pics from our new home.  It's coming together and is super cozy and comfortable.  I LOVE it!  And PS..... there IS a guest room! 

I love you all.  Sorry, I have no deep connection to make between rat toilets and our current state of being. These days have been SUPER rich and there have been some hard parts to it.  Transition is hard.  It's hard to always put words to the emotions, the feelings, and under the heart processing that goes on.  The potholes are numerous as are the green plants that bring life deeply to this area.  Both figuratively and in real life!  And the people.   They are beautiful.  And so we walk.  And live.  And I'll go out and spray my car with thieves and check on Josiah who is deep in preparation of his hut... and keep walking this thing called life.  Thankful to be here.  Thankful.  Deeply. 

It's a warm evening here in Jinja, Uganda.  The bugs are warming up for an anticipated stellar performance tonight.  Prayerfully, their performance will win out against any man-made DISCO that could threaten the harmony of the night.   I will take chirping bugs any time over a DISCO that waxes and wanes throughout the night.  Earplugs have been received like a Long lost friend.  

It is hard to believe that it has been TWO weeks since Josiah, Roxy, and I took off from Fort Wayne, Indiana and journeyed halfway around the world to the pearl of Africa... to our new home in Uganda. 

There have been so many things familiar... there has been the quick transition to driving on the other side of the road, having fun speaking Luganda with the locals, picking fresh fruit from the market, and once again prioritizing ensuring that the red dirt is no longer tucked between the toes.   A drop of bleach into the rinse water and quickly being reminded that things move at quite a different pace here are all familiar realities.    Case and point with the internet that was installed, but not turned on.  ( :  

And just as there have been lots of sweet familarities and reunions with friends so has there been the bumps of transition.  

Our "new" car welcomed us with the smell of rotten, aged rat urine.  If you aren't sure what that smells like... that's a good thing.  With that, clear evidence that our car is not in as good of condition as had been believed and/or hoped.  

          Missing people back home in America has been a reality for both Josiah and I.  There isn't any way around it.  Deep relationships are not easily forgotten or dismissed.  Many dear peeps ARE missed.  That's the reality.  And just because our physical bodies have found the warmth of the sun doesn't mean our hearts have made the full transition. 

                             A bit of an unexpected bump in the transition is that Josiah and I are on different pages in our comfort with the culture.  And both realities are valid and real.  Not one is wrong or right. It is what it is. And navigating that is hard.  No way around that one either.  I've lacked patience and grace in the transition.  I've been as human as it gets with a side of exhaustion.   

And God. 

         He is faithful.  

Yesterday,  a man was looking at my car with keen interest.  As we approached, he asked if I was selling my car.   I was already wondering if I would try selling my car and start over.  Knowing that I will often be driving alone,  I knew that having a solid car is hugely important.  And this man's interest and question was a very clear reminder that even though there are parts of this that feel hard and lonely, I am NOT walking alone. 

Even in the hard of the transition, Josiah and I have had a few really pivotal, key connections.  In both of our vulnerabilities, God is working and doing His thing. 

I sat with an adoptive momma yesterday of two daughters and as we were talking, I found myself thinking how amazing it would be to gather adoptive momma's here in Uganda together to have time to process, share, encourage, and be with each other.   Stirring at the possibilities. 

God brought a friend with us to Uganda to help Josiah and I settle.  Hadassah Sue has been with us from the second day we were on the ground.  It has been such a gift having her here.   We have played games, swept, organized, shopped, and reminisced.  

And so we walk.  And when the weakness of my heart finds me, I will stand up and keep walking.  

I can both inhale and exhale.  I can both savor the sweetness of normalcies here and keep walking the hurdles of transition. 

For this of you who know me deeply, I am committed to living this life as authentically and real as I can and that means sharing the bumps of joy and the dips of hardness and all the bits in between.  

It is So good to be here AND it is has been a bit hard AND I also have no doubt that God opened the doors wide and clear for us to come... 

And so I walk leading my son along with me.. trusting that God is walking alongside us both. 

My fingers are finding the keyboard.   And it's pretty exciting.  

It's a late summer day and I'm sitting on a cozy chair listening to the wind blow and a plane climbing higher into the sky.  Every once in a while a car zooms down the quiet road where Josiah and I are staying.  As life carries on around me, I am finding myself in a season of both pause, healing, and growing anticipation.  Tickets are purchased and it looks like we will say goodbye to America just as the sun is about to set on 2021 and hello to Uganda just before the dawn of 2022.  The excitement is growing.  Today, I chatted on a Facebook chat with a friend who is helping to organize a HUGE medical outreach scheduled for next August.  Excitement is here.  Excitement is there.  There are chit chats about investing in a vehicle that could accommodate medical supplies and provide space for needed medical outreaches with varying focuses. Pieces of the  puzzle are falling into place.  Unlike this blog which seems a bit sticky with age.  Words and pictures are fighting for their place on this page.  Mmmmm.... let's see who wins.  Either way, this blog is being sprung back into activity.  It was started back in 2012 several months before my first move to Uganda.  And life was never dull. The blog often shared of the many things God was doing, the things He was teaching, and the amazing things He was doing in people's lives.  Blog or no blog... recorded or not.... God is still moving and working and doing His thing.   Feel free to come along again on the adventures of all things Uganda!  So much to say, but for now, I wanted to crack my knuckles and dust off this page and practice hitting "Publish". 

Inhale Hope. Exhale Hope

It has been over a year since I have brought fingers to this blog.  Late 2018 to be exact.  I had to play with the site in order to figure out how to write a new post.  Eeeekk.  Not what I expected, but since when is life what we expected.  I've learned that very little is ever how we expect it to be.  Very. Very.  Little.  But thankfully the very little is not void of nothing.  Very little still leaves the door open for something.  And it is in the something that brings my fingers to the keyboard.  

Right now, I'm sitting outside watching the clouds attempt to claim their territory. The rain seems to be losing though every once in a while, the rain hits the ground.  And I'm absorbing the persistence of the sun admist the demands of the rain clouds.  

And my heart inhales.  And exhales.  Slowly.  Appreciatively.  With resolve.  

There are so many battles going on right now.  So many.  

So many that I bet lots of our heads feel like they are spinning.  And with that could come a spinning heart.  

It's hard to keep track of everything.  

And yet, there is much to keep track of.  

Do I wear a facemark or not?  

      Do I prepare for no school in the fall or count on there being school? 

           How do I stand up and strong for my black sisters and brothers?  

                   How do I process my own prejudices?  

                         How do I change?

                              What does it look like to do so?  

                                  Do I cheer for another stimulus check or cringe at the what that could mean for our                        

                                  economy down the road?

                                        Do I stock my cupboards full of food or buy only what I need?  

                                               How much do I share with my not so little guy?  

                                                      And the questions go on... and on... and on.. 

I don't feel panicked.  

I just feel aware.  Aware that life will probably never go back to how it was pre-Covid.  

And for some things, that's GOOD.  

And for other things, I get a little sad.  

Sad for the fear that has seemed to blow like the wind... into the crevices once filled with little worry or thought. And while vigilance and awareness are so important, I cringe for the many, many who have gone weeks without hugs.  Weeks without touch.  Weeks without their front door opening and  couches not dimpled by the weight of a visitor.  

For some... no, for many, that is their reality,  And it's gutting to watch.  I see it nearly every day as I enter into the homes of my patients.  I get to dimple their couch...  I get to ring their doorbell... and I get to put my hand on some shoulders and embrace others with a much needed hug.   

So much change... so much hard for so many.  

And so many opportunities. 

         So.     So.       So.    Many.   

The opportunities are vast.  

Fill someone's tank.  

Buy groceries for the one behind you at the store. 

Look someone in the eye.   Let them see your smile in your eyes. 

Take a stand. 

Take a seat.  

Sneak a hug. 

Pick up the phone. 

Pick up groceries for someone's grandma or grandpa.  

Exhale Hope. 

Inhale Hope.  

Pop in someone's window and say hi!  

Make a cardboard sign of affirmations and plot them in someone's yard. 

Allow the Son to be stronger than the rain clouds.  

My fingers are loosening up.  I'm excited to be writing again.  

So much to say.  And yet for this moment, I am inhaling the Hope and pray that I will exhale as He leads. 

May I take each opportunity. Each.  One.  

Our King Has Come

How it have been more than a year since my fingers have found this page?

I was shocked when I looked.

And yet here I sit.  Over a year later.

I'm currently at the YMCA in the swimming pool area.  The temperature is an astonishing 10 plus degrees warmer than elsewhere and I'm watching my little guy as he swims with a friend.

So. Much. To. Say.

This morning in church, I was paused by the lyrics of a song.

One that so many of us know.  And yet, it' the different verses and words slid in that grabbed my attention.

Grabbed my heart.

It's not the first time this year that God has used a song with different lyrics to grab my heart.  A surprise in the anticipated.  A grab worth listening to.

And oh how God has grabbed this year.  Yep, that's right.

He has been relentless.  R.E.L.E.N.T.L.E.S.S.

I wish that I could say that I have been more into grabbing back.  But His grabbing has far outnumbered my reaching back.

Nearly two years ago, I took on a challenge of memorizing 2 Timothy.  It was one of the hardest challenges for my brain and yet, the rewards were huge.

Today.   I sang knowing that even as my mouth moved, my heart was pausing.  Absorbing.

For the unclean, the unholy.
For the broken, the unworthy
You came, Jesus You came.

For the wounded, for the hurting
For the lost, and for the lonely
You came Jesus, You came.

O come all ye faithful
Bow before our Savior
Come let us adore
The One who came for us.
Glory in the highest
Praise the name of Jesus
Our King has come.

For the outcast, the defeated.
For the weary, for the weakest
You came Jesus, You came.

O come all ye faithful
Bow before our Savior
Come let us adore
The One who came for us.
Glory in the highest
Praise the name of Jesus
Our King has come.

O come let us adore Him.
For He alone is worthy
Our King has come. Our King has come
O give Him all the glory
For He alone is worthy
Our King has come, Our King has come.

And in the heels of that song, the 7 words of a book memorized over a year ago chugged through my heart and mind.

If we are faithless, He remains Faithful.

Every single one of the nouns mentioned in the song are words that I would say I've journeyed this past year plus.  There have been many, many days were the sting... no the BURN  of loneliness has threatened to drown me.  I've felt defeated far more than I have felt victorious.  I've felt unworthy of the gift given me.  I've circled the path of mourning and drank from the river of bitterness.  One hand holding a cup of hope and the other despair.   I've been every single word mentioned in the song plus others.

Yes, I've walked clinging to His pinky.  I've cried out for His healing and His mercy.  I've prayed deep, raw, honest prayers.  I've taken the next step and the next. Most often than not, I've been thankful to be standing.  I've been thankful to know that He is a God who P.U.R.S.U.E.S.  I belong to Him and He Ain't letting me go... no matter what!

It's not a matter of all of one and none of the other.

I realize that I've been far more faithless than faithful.

And that's the thing that grabbed my attention.

Even when we are faithless, He remains Faithful.

Faithful to His children.

In a season of figuring out this momma thing, continuing the transition back to the States, mourning, and being challenged in deep ways, I've watched Him remain so F.a.i.t.h.f.u.l.

He has declared truth over my life.

And when my ears haven't been able to hear the vertical message, He has spoken loudly and faithfully through His messengers.

He has melted my heart towards a certain mischievous, heart bigger than the canyon young man.

He has not budged in who He is.

He has not withheld love from me.  He has instead, showered love separate from anything about me or what I've done... or not done.

He has pursued the rawness and realness of the depths of my heart and whispered peace and freedom.

He has...

And He is.  None of the words above are past tense.  This is a season of walking.
And being real.  And watching Him manage the current.

He ALONE gets ALL the glory.

For He ALONE is worthy.

Our King has come.

Jesus has come.

Jesus who sees us not as we see ourselves, but as who we are IN HIM.

I might feel feel Unclean.  Unholy.  Broken.  Unworthy.
I might be wounded and hurting.  Lost and lonely.

But the truth is I am none of those things.

Because He came.  Became Jesus came.

I am Declared Clean.

John 15:3. Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you.

I am Holy, Set apart.  

Deuteronomy 7:6

6 “For you are a people holy to the Lord your God. The Lord your God has chosen you to be a people for his treasured possession, out of all the peoples who are on the face of the earth.

 I am not broken.  

Isaiah 53:4-5 4Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted. 5But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed

And the list goes on. One by One. The things we feel.... the things I feel are debunkable.

Our King has come.

Our King has come.

Our King has come.

He has come.

For All of you.

For All of me.

Pulling up the Pant legs.....

So often, fingers are brought to the keyboard when there is a flow to the words.  When a thought has been formed and a direction is known.  Tonight, I'm writing knowing that the "t" hasn't been crossed and by surely the "i" still needs dotting.

It's not going to be my most pretty writing.  But what it will be is a glimpse of where I am today.

I am needing some authenticity.

Today, I spent the day in an outpatient wound clinic.  It was a whole lot of bandages.  A whole lot of  oozing all types of different things.  And a variety of smells.  I mean.... a VARIETY of smells.  It didn't matter how pretty or nice the pants were that covered the dressings.  Underneath it all were wounds needing care.  Some wounds came from accidents.  Others from disease.  Some from poor health decisions.  And others remained despite hyper vigilant care and attention.

Taken from the internet

All needed to be cleansed.
First with soapy water.
Then, for most, scraped with a metal tool.
In the scraping, the not healthy tissue is removed.  The healthy is challenged.

In the scraping,  healing is given a chance.

It wasn't the smells that got me as I drove home or the variety of colors of pus that I saw today.

It was the pant covers and the wraps.

No matter how nice or how dirty they were... a decision was still made by each individual that came to allow someone to pull up their pant legs
to take off the dressings
to let their wounds be cleansed
scraped.
to be looked at
to let light shine on
to be covered again.

allowing the healing to continue.

Because for all of the wounds I saw today, the healing doesn't come in one visit.

But rather, it comes with each time the person allows someone else to pull up their pant leg.
To take off their dressing.  Each day that they make the choose to elevate their leg or apply a medication that they've been prescribed.  It's a lot of different little decisions of saying yes.  Of choosing to do.  Of simply choosing.  Even when the simply doesn't seem so simple.

The truth is.  My heart has been a struggling.  It's been hurting.  It's been trying to figure out this new normal.

And it's also been refusing to let the bandage remover do what He does best.

Remove.

Cleanse.

Bandage up.

And well, when a wound is kept in the dark.  When it's left to itself.  It almost never gets better.  It gets angry.  Really stinky.  And really full of drainage.   And the journey towards healing takes that much longer.

taken from the internet

Last night, I sat with a friend and ugly cried my way to the Throne.
And had to acknowledge fully that I refused to let Him remove the bandage.
And I had to make a choice to say yes.  Yes, to his lifting of my pants leg today.


I'm still in the wound clinic.

I mean, in reality, I'm sitting on my couch with a naughty little puppy being a stinker.   But in my heart, I'm at the wound clinic.  My leg is propped up and I've just begun to allow Him to pull up the pant leg of my hurting heart.

And so, that is where my fingers stop typing.  I'm sure that I'll have more to say. But for now, I stop.

I'm thankful He is patient with me.

Looking for the Manna that is not a quick snack...

I have come back to these pages multiple times.  

I've wanted to write and have struggled with finding the right words.  

More often than not, I would find myself coming back to just remember.

Looking through old posts.  

Tearing up at pictures.  

Smiling at others.  

Absorbing.  

Remembering.  

Right now, my feet are propped up and I have a bit of pause as Josiah is making traps in his room. 

The masking tape is being pulled from it's roll at a dramatic pace and if the string doesn't trip up any potential robber who comes, then the tape will surely do them in.  

I've just finished some time with Jesus and have both a hot cup of tea and a coca cola nearby.  

The day is still young and I suspect that in a short amount of time, I will tuck this computer away and find myself in an active game of SLAP.  It's been a season of a lot of new things.  

Lots of changes.  

Lots of remembering. 

Lots of LOTS. 

Yesterday, I was talking on the phone with a dear friend and made reference to how quickly life can change.  Who would have thought way back in January that in August of THIS year, I would be preparing a child for school.  A child that my heart is increasingly melting for.  It wasn't even on my radar.  And yet, it was completely on HIS radar.  

So many changes.  

So many emotions.
So much good. 

So many of So many's. 

My mind is still continually here and there.  

Remembering.  

Experiencing the New. 

Embracing the little man in front of me.  

Remembering the many God sweetly put in front of me there. 

I wonder what it was like for the Israelites.  

Did they really expect to be released?  And when they were, what was their transition like?  

It says that there were times, they wanted to go back to Egypt?  Was that desire because they weren't embracing their present reality... or was it because their hearts were torn between the there and the here?  

I get that their reality was very different than my own. They were coming from a land of slavery.  

How many times have I wanted to go back to my own chains?

Enough to know that it is likely that the Israelites had more than a few times of wanting to go back no matter if what was never the right thing.

But a transition nonetheless.  And I'm finding as I live life that change has a way of tempting me with what was.

And yet every day the Israelites were given a gift.  

Manna.  

Last Sunday morning, I found myself at a hotel swimming pool outside of Chicago.  Josiah had turned the pool into the ocean and was both an Orca and a seal depending on the moment.  Between the splashing and the yelps from a seal,  I sat and cracked a book I had recently ordered.  

Awaken.  

by Priscilla Shirer.  

The first reading was about manna.  

Something God has brought me to repeatedly in this season.  

But as I read admist the spaces and yelps of an escaped seal, my heart was offered a perspective I hadn't yet thought of.  

Exodus 16:21 

"They gathered it morning by morning, every man as much as he should eat; but when the sun grew hot, it would melt"

The food that would sustain the Israelites on their journey had to be gotten.  There had to be an intentional decision to get up, get out, and pick up.  

At a certain point the sun grew hot and the manna melted.  

And if an Israelite chose to sleep in late...or opted to get distracted by a fun game.... or whatever fought for their attention.... they missed out.  

And woah... my own heart was convicted.

How many times do I roll over in the morning and start looking at my phone?  (Ummmmm...

nearly EVERY day)

How many times do I say good morning to Jesus and then start cleaning the kitchen... or throw clothes in the washer?  (enough times)

Or how many times do I get stuck in the busyness of the day where I forget to go back to the Manna and get my energy from the Food that nourishes?

The Israelites were given the opportunity to gather enough food to sustain them each day.
It required them to take the time to gather, to store, and to return back to their supply of manna as needed.

Jesus, help me to return to you more faithfully throughout the day.

Thank you that you give me everything I need to get through each day that you have organized and planned for me.