When God changes your name….

During our story group with students today, we told the story of the birth of Isaac. Before Isaac was born, though, Abram had an encounter with God. Years before, when Abraham was 75, God promised him that He would make him a great nation and that all the nations of the earth would be blessed because of him and his family. And no child was born. Abram waited. And waited. And waited. For 24 years.

Abram started to think God had forgotten him. He went to God a couple of times, saying, “Okay, don’t forget You told me…” And still, no children. (Except for Ishmael… but that’s another story.) When Abram was 99 years old, God came to him. He made a covenant with Abram, reminding him that He would bless him with children… multitudes of children. And this is when God gets a little crazy: He changed Abram’s name to Abraham. Abraham means “father of many nations.” What a name for someone who only had one child… and an illegitimate one at that!

As we were discussing the story, Sharon, one of the students who’s about 10 years old, pointed out that Abram allowed God to change his name to Abraham. What kind of faith did it take to go around saying, “Hi, my name is “Father of Many Nations” when you don’t have any kids? And yet, he believed God. He believed that he was, and would be, who God said he was, even though there was absolutely no proof.

Sharon was right. And so often, we don’t allow God to change our names. We hear what He says about us, that we are a new creation, that we can do all things through Him, that He has good plans in store for us, that He loves us. But we don’t believe it. We don’t call ourselves by the name He gives us. We don’t walk in confidence of who He says we are. Oh, that I could be more like Abraham, to walk in the faith that I am who He says I am…. even though it doesn’t always look like it.

Thanks for the Word, Sharon!

Call to Prayer

If you’re not familiar with Islam, devout Muslims are required to pray 5 times a day. In most towns outside America, the call to prayer will sound from the mosque throughout the day at the various times. (I don’t know why this doesn’t happen so much in the States, but I lived down the street from an Islamic center for 7 years and never heard the call to prayer once. Maybe it’s on the radio there?) In most places, the call to prayer is an Arabic chant recording that is played over a loudspeaker to alert Muslims that it is time to pray.

I was wide awake at 5:30 this morning, I don't know why. Right after I woke up, the call to prayer from the mosque started. It was really loud, louder than it’s ever been. I have no idea what they're saying, but anyway, it was all I could hear, first thing in the morning. So I'm thinking about the Muslims who are praying, and all of that, just how lost they are. About 30 seconds after the call starts, it starts raining. It’s dry season. It’s not supposed to rain right now. There's this big metal awning over the window by my bed. It starts raining harder and harder and harder, and within 20 seconds the rain is so loud that I can't hear the call to prayer anymore.

I’m not sure why this little 3-minute event made such a big impact on me. It's like God was saying, “I'm not going to allow that to be heard, because it's not Who I really am. It's not what I want for My people- so I'm going to silence it.”

And that's how I woke up this morning!

A Snapshot of Life in Africa

I’m sure some of you wonder what the little, day-to-day parts of life are like here in Africa. I’m not sure I can describe it all accurately, but I’ll do my best…

Dad asked me last week to describe Arua, the town I live in. That’s easier said than done. The best I came up with was to imagine Dodge City or Tombstone from an old western, cover the buildings with plaster and crazy colors of paint, fill it with a ton of people, bikes, motorcycles, and the random goat, cow, or chicken. That’s a pretty fair picture.

Sleeping under a mosquito net reminds me of what it would be like to be a princess in a castle with a big curtained bed… only the curtains aren’t there to keep you warm. They’re there to keep you from getting malaria.

Take a one-gallon milk jug and fill it with water. Put a couple of ice cubes in it… not many, just 2 or 3. Punch 3 or 4 holes in the bottom of the jug and hold it 3 inches over your head… and you have the water pressure of my shower each morning. (I do have to admit, the water does warm up eventually…. about a minute before you’re done.)

Walking to church Sunday morning, we walked down the road under some beautiful tall trees. One problem: 2 of the trees are bat trees, meaning that the top branches of the trees are covered in sleeping bats. Bats are sort of like birds: you have to be careful when you walk under them. Yes, I got pooped on. Fortunately, it was only my toe, and by the time we got to church, it had worked its way off. (Standards of cleanliness have already changed!)

It doesn’t really surprise me when the generator (because we’ve had no electric-company power for over a week now) dies in the middle of a neighborhood dinner. Somebody just gets the battery-powered lights and everyone else just keeps talking!

Halfway through lunch today, I looked out the window and saw one of the goats wander into the building behind the house… where our language study takes place. Fortunately, Buddy didn’t eat any of our notebooks (this time!)…. he just pooped all over the place.

The coolest thing? I’ve started to get settled in and “comfortable” with life here. I’m not saying it’s easy, but I’m getting used to it. But every now and then, whether it’s going to visit one of the Storyers and sitting in her mud hut under the thatched roof, or sitting under a mango tree having Bible study with other Western women, or driving through a small village of mud huts on the way to the Bible study, every now and then it hits me: I live in Africa. And every time I think, this is absolutely ludicrous, and totally stinkin’ cool.

Praise the Lord for bringing me to Africa! Where else can you battle ants, mosquitoes, goats, and a new language, all in the same day???

Customs & Shipping

Hi, everyone!  I got some information this week, and wanted to share... before you read any further, please know that this is NOT a plea for care packages and "stuff".  We're doing great here, and since we're not in our house yet (next week, maybe?) I couldn't even begin to tell you what I need or want.  We've been to the "grocery store" (think Old West mercantile) and the open-air markets a couple of times, but haven't even bought any groceries... but I did get some insight into the whole international shipping and customs thing, and wanted to pass it on.  It was really helpful for my mom, and might be helpful to anyone who might want to send packages in the future.  (Not begging, really!)

1)  When you send a package internationally, you have to fill out a customs declaration so the government knows how much to charge me to receive the package. Basically, the more value an item has, the more I will have to pay to get it. When you fill out a customs form, it's better to be vague... "used clothing," "house supplies," "toiletries," "work supplies," "snacks," etc. The less value the package appears to have, the better. 

2)  Packages sent in boxes will more than likely be opened.  It's better to make the items inside look like they're not in the original package or don't have the original tags on them... so drink mix packets and candies could be in a Ziplock instead of the sealed bag from the store, new clothes could have all the tags taken off, CDs and DVDs could be unwrapped and unsealed, that kind of thing. Pam and Stan also said they don't think Customs opens the bubble-wrap envelopes- so they might be a good option, if the stuff will fit in them. 

3)  Don't send electronics... if they get to me, I'll wind up having to pay more than they're worth to get them back!

4)  Because we're so far out, shipping companies won't deliver to us.  The only real option is air mail, which should take 2-6 weeks.  Letters and smaller bubble envelopes will arrive faster than bigger boxes.  My mailing address is PO Box 1036, Arua, Uganda.

Suggestions for care packages:

~ good-smelling soaps, lotions, or candles

~ American chocolate

~ Crystal Lite single-serving drink packets

~ Jello

~ Velveeta (it's really heavy, though!)

~ DVDs from the bargain aisle

~ anything else that would remind you of home... 

Please know, again, that I'm NOT asking for gifts.  I just wanted to get information out there so it's there if you should need it.  Your prayers are what I ask for the most-- thank you for being so faithful!

Random Thursday thoughts

FYI- Stan and Pam Wafler are my supervisors. They have 3 kids: Jacob, Jack, and Joanna. In addition to my partner, Kelli, and myself, there are 2 other guys on our team, Evan and Trevor.

Jack's 12th birthday is tomorrow, and he wanted ribs for lunch, so Kelli and I went to the village with Stan to get pig. And I do mean PIG. Hanging on the hook at the butcher's. Take out a machete and hack out the ribs... and a leg while you're at it... While we were there, Pam had asked us to get a few things from the village market. Stan was talking to the women in Lugbara, which thrilled them, and then they looked at me and Kelli and started talking to us, too! I'm thinking, "I know all of 5 words in Lugbara... how can I even begin to understand them?" Then I remembered part of a sentence we learned yesterday: "only a little Lugbara." So I'm trying to get my fragment out, and even my "lu Lugbara ti were" brought a huge grin to their face. Okay, so they were laughing at me at the same time... but at least I'm trying! They can speak enough English to get by and sell things to the 3 mundus (white people) who come into the market on a rare occasion (like today), but now they have something to talk and laugh about for the rest of the day! :)

It's "dry season" right now and crazy hot... okay, so it's rained some the past 2 days... they say this isn't normal. But it's really dusty and hot most days. Still no power... it's been a week. Stan & Pam have a generator and solar power, so it's not a huge horrible deal... just a pain in the sweaty tail. Windows and doors open during the day, so there's a decent breeze. We keep the lights turned off as long as possible. Everything's staying charged, and we plug in when the generator's on at night. We'll have a generator and battery backup at our house, too, so we'll be fine. Kelli and I have decided to call our house "The Castle" because there's a massive wall around it... and because of the 2 princesses who will live there! :) The boys' house is "Fort Knox" because they have 4 huge padlocks on the gate and the front door, and Stan & Pam's is the "Waffle House".

Lugbara ti mbamba!

The Lugbara language is difficult.

We started our language study Monday. Wow. I don’t even know what to think. A part of me thinks that I will (eventually) be able to find the patterns in the language and learn it ok.

Lugbara is a tonal language. I’ve been around tonal languages before… I haven’t learned them, but I’ve been around them. And I have to say, Lugbara is a prettier sounding language than some of the nasal Asian languages. Parts of Lugbara sound like music… it’s just a matter of making sure you have the right notes… which is easier said than done!

So between the funky consonant clusters (ngoni, drinja, ndr-, and mgb-), the stops, the tones (dodo is a big mango, dodo is cooked greens), and the fact that mi is you and ma is me, I will fall on my face praising God if I really am able to learn this language!

Pray for me!

Pictures from the Journey....

Well, I’ve been promising pictures of the trip from Greenville up to Arua, and since I have my camera back :D I can deliver on the promise!

How does Detroit keep going in a snowstorm? Snowplows... lots and lots and lots of snowplows. (I counted 7 on the way to the gate while we were still taxi-ing!)

The winter wonderland of Detroit… my last view of snow for a while!

The tunnel in the Detroit airport- it changed colors in coordination with the music… very cool

All of our luggage in the van for the drive from Entebbe to Kampala—

we were a little shocked that it could all fit!

The Sahara Desert—amazingly beautiful! Who but God could dream this up?

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we crossed the Nile. That’s right… the NILE- as in Pharoahs and Moses and Egypt and crocodiles and Cleopatra! He he he!

Kampala- the capitol of Uganda

Yield to random cows crossing the road- on the way to Arua

This isn’t from the trip up, but I had to share with all the construction folks…. There was a huge crater in the middle of one of the roads in town, and they were repairing it when we got in town. (All hand work, by the way!) There are a couple of paved roads here, but they’re really more pothole than roads. Anyway, there’s a new stretch of asphalt in Arua! (And check out the logs they use as construction cones- love it!)

Answered prayer

I feel like since I've had so many people telling me they're praying about my missing camera, I need to fill you in on what's happened in the past several days. Let me just tell you that we serve a truly amazing God!

Evidently, while we were on the plane from Detroit to Amsterdam, my camera (which I received on Jan. 2) fell out of my bag and I left the plane without it. As we sat on the plane from Amsterdam to Uganda about 1 1/2 hours later, I thought, "I need to get some pictures of all the water and windmills here..." and started to search for my camera. It began to dawn on me that I hadn't seen my camera since the last plane. I took everything out of my purse, and then searched through my overstuffed backpack, but couldn't find the camera. I was sick, just knowing that I was literally leaving my brand-new camera in a country I wouldn't be going back to for almost 2 years. But at this point, there was nothing I could do. When I got the flight attendant's attention, I explained to her that I thought I had left my camera on the last plane, hoping she could get a message to someone at the last plane, but she told me to get in touch with the Amsterdam airport when we arrived in Uganda. Thanks for the help.

We arrived at the Guest House in Kampala late Sunday night, and had many errands to run on Monday. Pam, my supervisor's wife, called the airline in Kampala Monday morning and got the number for KLM in Amsterdam, with instructions not to call before 4:30 that afternoon. So that afternoon, I spent 15 or 20 minutes on my new cell phone calling Amsterdam, where I was eventually directed to the airport Lost & Found website. Late that night, I was finally able to fill out the online "lost item claim form". In all honesty, I knew the chances of someone honest actually finding my camera and turning it in were slim to none, but hey, it was worth a shot.

Tuesday morning, I received an email from Lost & Found asking for more information about the camera. I responded, giving as much information about the camera as I could. That afternoon I received another email informing me that they had found my camera, and that I (or my representative) could it pick up in the baggage area of the airport, or that I could have it mailed or couriered to me (which would cost $90- $250, before any taxes and customs fees). What to do?

Pam had a brainstorm. She has several friends from Holland who live or lived in Arua, my new town here in northwest Uganda. One of her friends left before Christmas to go to a funeral in Holland, and she wasn't sure if she had already returned to Arua, or if she would be returning soon. So she started emailing and texting friends Tuesday night to find out how to get in touch with them. Before too long, we got an email from this friend's husband, Aart, saying that they were flying out of Amsterdam in the morning at 11:00, and that they would try to pick up the camera, if we would give them the details on how to get it. We started frantically emailing the airport and Aart to make sure everyone knew who would be picking the camera up and how. My camera will arrive here in Arua sometime on Thursday.

Can I just tell you that God is a God of the details? We serve a God who is so big that He sees the whole world at one time, and yet is intimately personal. He is small enough to see a little camera under an airplane seat in Amsterdam. He orchestrated the right honest person to find the camera and turn it in to Lost & Found, He somehow enabled me to communicate well enough with Dutch employees in Amsterdam to be able to access the website from Uganda. And He placed people from the same teeny, tiny town that most people have never heard of to be traveling through the airport on the exact day that my camera was available. I know that in the big scheme of things, this is a tiny thing. But it is a thing. And it is an important thing to me. It is a way to share my work with family and friends at home and around the world. It is a way to involve others in the Lord is doing here in Arua. And, because He loves me, and I am important to Him, this thing that is important to me is important to Him. He is a good Father. How many lessons has He taught me through this one little camera????

Be Strong and Courageous

As I was reading Joshua 1, I noticed some repetition that almost jumped off the page at me. Joshua and the Israelites use the phrase “be strong and courageous” four times as they prepare to enter the Promised Land. And since I’m going to what I feel is my own “promised land,” I think I understand why. God doesn’t give us reminders of things we remember well. He doesn’t tell us not to fear if we’re cool, calm, and collected. He encourages us when He knows we need it. He knows us that well.

So why did He draw me to Joshua 1 as I sat on a plane going to Africa? Hmmm… I wonder???

Thoughts from a plane

1/10 9:02 pm et. We Just left America. Won’t be back for 2 years. Holy crap. No more Star-Spangled Banner. No more Oreos. No more ranch dressing. I’m moving to Africa. Holy crap.

1/11 2:45 am et. Flying into Amsterdam. Man, there’s a lot of water here… somehow I wasn’t expecting that. And there’s lots of and lots of windmills. (That doesn’t surprise me… I just forgot about the whole Holland-windmill thing.) Only, the windmills here aren’t the pretty, old-fashioned brick with white fabric blades kind. They’re the tall, skinny, 2-blade modern kind. What a letdown.

1/11 10:07 am et. Flying over the Sahara Desert. Amazing… and somehow it makes me appreciate what an amazing Creator God we serve. How do you even dream up something like this, let alone actually make it? I mean, there’s nothing but sand as far as the eye can see. You would think it’s pretty monotonous, but it’s not. Patterns and designs and images in the earth are constantly changing. It’s beautiful. Too bad I have no idea where my (new) camera is. I have a sinking feeling that I left it on the plane in Amsterdam.

1/11 11:00 am et. Sunset over Darfur. Ironically beautiful. How surreal is my life?

One last thought from GSP

Just caught a glimpse of the little plane I'll be on to Detroit.  Can you say "sketchy"?  I mean, really.  Bond-o has no business on a plane!

Chick-fil-A, suitcases, and tears

I officially hate goodbyes.  I've said way too many in the past few days.  And honestly, the whole concept of telling your entire family goodbye at airport security just absolutely stinks.  I cried while they checked my boarding pass, I cried taking off my shoes, I cried while they scanned my 40-pound backpack, I cried while I put my shoes back on, I cried as Zeke blew me kisses through the glass, I cried all the way up the escalator.  I cried as I wrote the whole last paragraph.  I hate this.

I know why I'm going to Uganda.  I'm excited about what I'm doing.  I'm excited to see what the LORD is going to do.  I'm completely humbled just to be a small part of it.  But honestly, I don't like this.  Today, right now, sitting in the airport, waiting for my delayed flight to Detroit, I don't like it one bit.

Packing your entire life into 4 suitcases (gotta love extra baggage...) is just not natural.  It's not right.  Not having Chick-fil-A again for 2 years (twice today, thank you very much!) is not right.  :)  Telling your 17 month old nephew goodbye is not right.  But there's so much of this that is right.  God has been so faithful already.  He's been so good.  And that is right.  And that makes everything else, all the tears, all the goodbyes, all the people I love so much that I will miss so badly, He makes it all okay.  

And that is how I can get on a plane and move to Africa.  I can't do it.  But because of Him, I can.

Sin and the Titanic

You don't nurse Your anger and don't stay angry long,

for mercy is Your specialty.  That's what you love most.  

And compassion is on its way to us.  

You'll stamp out our wrongdoing.

You'll sink our sins

to the bottom of the ocean.

Micah 7:18-19

For His unfailing love toward those who fear Him

is as great as the height of the heavens above the earth.

He has removed our sins as far from us

as the east is from the west.

The LORD is like a father to His children,

tender and compassionate to those who fear Him.

Psalm 103:11-13

I don't think I have really grasped the metaphors Micah and David are throwing out here.  They're so big, my feeble, not-spatially-oriented brain can't begin to understand what they're trying to say.  What do you mean, "as far as the east is from the west"?  "As high as the heavens"?  My little brain just can't wrap around it.

But "the bottom of the sea".  That I have a reference for.  Not from experience, mind you, but, well, sort of.  I've been to the beach.  I've lost things (sunglasses and contact lenses, usually) in the ocean.  And, barring a miracle of God, if you lose something in the ocean, you're not getting it back.  If God were to throw our sin into the water, even near the shore, in the waves, there's no way we're going to put our hands on it again.  But Micah doesn't say He throws our sins in the water near the shore.  He's so much more merciful even than that.  He "sinks our sins to the bottom of the ocean."  And the image of the "bottom of the ocean" that comes to my mind is the Titanic.  

The Titanic was the biggest thing to ever sail in the ocean.  Enormous.  Huge.  Impossible to forget.  And when it went down, it went down fast.  It went down without a trace.  For decades, no one even knew where it was.  It took multitudes of scientists, countless explorers, and millions of dollars' worth of technology just to figure out where the thing landed.   And it went down so far that no one can ever bring it up again.  Even though we know the Titanic existed, even though there are some lasting memories of the thing, we can't go back to it.  There's no swimming through it.  There's no dwelling in this thing.

Why do we have a hard time thinking of our sin as the Titanic?  Even the biggest, baddest, ugliest monstrosity we've ever done absolutely disappears when it sinks into the sea of the Father's grace.  And He's not telling us where it is at the bottom of His vast ocean.  So why do we allow Satan to dredge the sea and bring it up again?  That's not the Father's plan.  It's not His way.  When He forgives, He throws our sins into the absolute deepest part of the ocean.  It's sitting at the bottom of the ocean, under the Titanic.  Let it just sit there.

2008 by numbers

A New Year brings lots of reflection.  As I was thinking over 2008, God began to show me how much happened in 2008, and how different life is now from how it was a year ago.  So I had an idea: why not look at the numbers that made a difference in 2008.  It's a little goofy, I know, but hopefully it's fun, too.  And if you want to get together a list of your own numbers, I'd love to see it!  Enjoy!  :)

5 days in the real estate market... God still does miracles!
1 huge yard sale
38 trips to Goodwill & Miracle Hill
3 computer crashes (Anybody need a new boat anchor?)
1 new Macbook :D
5 months at Mom & Dad's
2 new favorite games (check out In a Pickle and Apples to Apples)
1 scary moment at Red Robin
23 sub jobs
4 countries
547 pictures of Zeke
20 blog postings (more in 2009, I promise!)
8 days in Israel

5 teammates in Uganda
2 new wheels... attached to a new red bike
9 shots
34 referrals on 6th graders (I really don't miss teaching!)
1 root canal
3 quilts (that's right... I made them!)
too many cups of coffee to count

4 African masks
9 weeks in Richmond
13 Chapman Lady Panthers basketball games (love you, Fred!)
5 sick days in Thailand.... ugh
2 great weeks at Isle of Palms
uncounted blessings of new friends, going all over the world
3 scarecrows... how I miss them!
lots and lots of tearful goodbyes.... and more to come