Masaka.

There are so many things that I love about my sister Gloria. Her laugh, the truth that she has brought into my life and relationships with her insight, the way she tells stories, the fact that she fails to comb her hair, how she remembers details about people and asks after them. One of them is that she is a woman of prayer. We’re very different; as our brothers tell us almost daily, but I think we both feel burdened to serve others through prayer, and specifically our friends who are poor through prayer. She is the kind of person that will say “I think we should just walk around and pray for these people,” when we’re at an IDP camp in Northern Ug and then we’ll do it. Or I’ll say “I’m really thinking so much about this friend from home” and she’ll respond with “let’s pray for them.” If I want to stop the car so we can pray for some prisoners we passed on our way, Gloria will always joyfully interrupt her plans to do those things. 

On our roadtrip to the West I think we both saw Jesus very clearly through prayer. I saw Him during times of rest in Nshenyi at Graceful Savannah. That deserves an entire blog post; it was a powerful few days of redefinition for me.

On our way home from Nshenyi, Gloria and I stopped in Masaka for the night. Gloria, in her former life as a glamorous Ugandan tv journalist, had made a documentary about child-headed households in Uganda. She and her crew traveled to Masaka and with an NGO called Kitovu Mobile had filmed four households where both parents had died of HIV/aids and the kids were taking care of themselves. In 2005, in Nepal, Gloria told me about those kids, and a bit of their stories. Four years later she still had them on her heart, so we went to Kitovu Mobile, searching for those families. We had decided beforehand to stay the night with one of these families. We hated the idea of just going and bringing some money and going home to our hotel, we wanted to participate in life with these kids, even if it was only for 24 hours.

So, we drove up to this small house, back in a typical Ugandan village ‘road.’ (Road= dusty, pothole path through matoke plantations.) They were there, waiting to greet us… Five boys aged 16, 14, 12, 10, and probably 6 or so. They had no furniture in their main room, they borrowed some stools from a neighbor for us to sit on. We sat and talked. They were shy and didn’t say much. After the ice was broken we took their ‘cook’- the 12 year old- and got some groceries; rice, tomatoes, curry powder. He made rice pilau and as it cooked I played cards with the kids. No mercy, I won.  

I’m struggling to write this post, because I want to fully express who these boys are. They are sons of Jesus, they are not ‘orphans’, they have been set in families. They are kids- they fight and skip school to go to the cinema, they laugh and make jokes. I would never pity these guys. But their lives are difficult- they have very little- often even going without meals during holidays and weekends. What little they may get, even their clothes or lamp kerosene, is sometimes stolen from them by their neighbors, since they didn’t have a good lock for their door.  

As we sat around after our simple meal (which tasted really good, by the way) the youngest boy was sitting just to my left. He has the kind of face that is endearing, he still seems like a baby except for his eyes which are so sad. He’s very quiet and reserved, but super intelligent, I think his English was better than all the others. I wanted to just hold him in my lap and love him. I thought about Nick- who is 8 and I’ve babysat for several years- and imagined him without his mom and dad, taking care of himself. We sang around the bongo drum I had brought. The guys wanted to sing “Lord, Lord of Mercy, Jesus, Jesus of Mercy” that they learned at their school. After we sang, we went to bed. “Goodnight Auntie” they said. The boys gave us the ‘master bedroom’ and Gloria and I shared our smallest bed yet- a twin mattress and dirty blanket- the best they had. I was laying awake in the dark, thinking the same thoughts I find myself thinking so frequently… I know Jesus that you are a Lord of Mercy, but I can’t always see it.

The next morning we woke up and started to clean and do some wash. Gloria washed all their clothes and dishes, while I swept out the place and cleaned the wasps nests off the wall. They didn’t have a broom, so we bought one to use, and took all the bedding out of the room to be aired out. It only took us about three hours to do all of this- handwashing all their clothes and cleaning their entire home. I told Gloria what I had been thinking the night before, and in that moment I was so thankful for my sister’s eyes.

She said “I can see so clearly God’s provision for those boys.” Through Gloria’s documentary, the heart of a Ugandan in Kampala was touched and he came and built this family a house. Kitovu Mobile pays their school fees and makes sure that they get one good meal at lunch time from school. A few neighbors make sure that they go to school (because seriously, what 14 year old boy without parents wants to get up and go to school?), and I think sometimes bring over some food and a bit of money. When she met them four years ago, they had only the torn clothes on their backs. Now they have at least a few changes of clothes and some flip-flop type of shoes.

And so I remembered that He is not a God far off… He is a God close at hand. I’m thankful for continual reminders like Masaka; I’m Thomas- I need to see the scars, I need to know that these, my brothers, are not alone, that He will not forsake them.

Bits.

(I wrote this on Saturday- Day 2 of my time in Uganda, by the way, but never posted it.)

I’m in Uganda!

During the two flights and day-long layover in London I had a bit of time to reflect on the wedding of the year- Laura & Justin 08. Some of the best parts were:

 

These shoes Which, while gorgeous and matching our dresses so well, also caused me a severe (and bloody) blister on my heel. Still it makes a good picture, eh?

My favorite single moment was riding in the car with Best Man Kris, his ice cream cone, and the two newlyweds to the reception. We laughed. A lot. And they’re in love. 

 

 

 

 

 

Impromptu photo shoot at the church, while unbeknownst to us Laura’s poor computer was stolen, and other members of the wedding party were frantically downloading music for the ceremony. Haha! 

What a lovely babysitter and date… and this one wasn’t too bad either:

Joey and I were just rejoicing to finally have a good picture of our friendship. There was lots of dancing to be had, from line dancing, to square dancing, to just all around breaking it down… which was when this was taken: 

I’m sorry Amber, but those moves can not be ignored. Shortly after this it started raining? Coincidence? I doubt it. 

~~~~~~

An 11 hour layover in London?! Hmmm… I loved traveling at my own speed and style. I was hoping to see the Big Ben, but since I never actually looked on a map to find it, I ended up wandering around on the Tube to find likely looking stops. I took a nap in the rose garden at St. Paul’s Cathedral and then drank a cup of Starbucks while sitting and reading. I found the Thames! It was like I invented it or something I was so excited, and in the distance- could it be? Big Ben?! No, actually it was the Tower of London, but that too made me excited. So a few sites, a nap, some coffee, EuroCup 2008!, (and Wimbledon- Leah) and a lot of wandering later, I boarded my flight for the beautiful Uganda.

I cried when I saw my Kaalo sister; it was like coming home. We had a long and wonderful day yesterday. I liked my first two meals of matoke, and think I will be ruined for bananas from anywhere else after today, as the fruit here is the best I’ve ever had. Sorry India.

Last night we went with a friend, Douglas, to a house church in a slum community here in Kampala.  That was the perfect way to end my first day, meeting my brothers and sisters. They welcomed Gloria and I so much… except for two children who cried at the sight of my white skin and wouldn’t greet me. Gloria’s niece is also a bit apprehensive of me, but I’m hoping she gets used. We had the chance to pray with and for a few people, it was a gift for me. I’m still praying for specific direction for my time here in Uganda, even if the direction is “Rest.” So far I’ve done a good job of the rest bit… slept until 11 am today and I think effectively killed the last of my jet lag. I loved waking up and thinking “I’m in Uganda!” What a gift!

Thanks for the gift of reading this long post…  Looking forward to sharing more bits of the journey with you. Peace…

ABC’s by Nick.

Cc

“Church is mostly for Catholic people and First Communions.”

-The Facts of the ABC Book by Nick, age 8

Transition.

After I sent Kara and Calvin off on the airplane yesterday, I started a new journal. I feel a lot of new beginnings… saying goodbye to the remnants of the Nepal community in the States. Making a decision to end up in Omaha and not in Nepal, finding roommates and starting to pack up the little apartment in the city, among other things. It’s good… this period of transition is essential, it’s like being engaged. Kind of rough but necessary. 

Over and over I think about the rich young ruler. I wrote a support letter about this passage, but I keep finding new depths in that statement “Sell all you have and give to the poor.” When these people that I love so much- whether it’s the Nepal community, Lara, or Laura, or April in Romania, or Ericka/Andrew in Ottawa, or Lisa or Chester, or any dear friends around the world leave my life or I have to leave them… I feel like I’m that rich young ruler. I want to keep you all near me. I want to be able to text you at any time or call you whenever. But even you I have to give to the poor, I feel like I’m really having to do that constantly. When you read that passage, or intense verses like this, it seems like this doesn’t really make sense. I asked Jesus about it… “What do You mean? Your burden feels so heavy to me sometimes, I don’t understand this.”

He said a bunch of neat stuff, and it went something like… “I have freely given you so many things… all these I ask you now to give back to Me… Are you willing to sacrifice your community to serve My Beloved poor? Give them to me… my poor need these people more than you do. I will give you My Hand to hold instead… Remember that I always want good things for you. When I break your heart it is the best thing for you…

Find your rest by gazing at My face, and reflecting on My mystery. My yoke is one of authenticity and prayer, it is beautiful and a privilege to carry… My burden will bring you deep joy.” 

I still don’t really understand what all that means, but it’s something to think about… 

Lynell’s Friends.

My friend Lynell Shooks took this amazing set of pictures of friends who are homeless in Grand Rapids. I thought you might like it.

I do! Along with a lot of things I like in this moment…. including just being purposeful at work on a beautiful, sunny day, knowing what I am doing and why I am doing it.

Kneeler.

Last night I went to Mass with several friends. We were at a different church than our normal parish, and it has a big cavernous cathedral in the center with stone floors, so everything reverberates. I like to sit in the front, so we were among the first to receive the Eucharist, and then we went back to sit down. There was a weird pillar in the middle of the pew, and people had sat down in our way, so I watched my friend carefully navigate around the pillar and then around the people. As I was watching so intently, I felt something catch my foot. I kept trying to walk, push through the hesitation and get down to my seat. All of a sudden I couldn’t go any farther without my legs, and bam-bam-bam-clatter I fell down.

All the way. To the ground. In the pew.

I stayed there for a second, because I knew the entire church was looking at me, as they processed to receive communion. Finally I thought “If I don’t get up, they’re gonna send someone for me.” So I stood up, walked around the pillar and sat down.

And that’s why you never leave your kneeler down when you go up to receive communion.

Thanks.

Wow, read this. It’s in my top five face-ripping off blog posts of all time, and made me think more than any post since this one.

I’ve read some amazing work on your blogs- those that I have and haven’t linked on here- keep posting please! (Or in Ericka’s case, start posting again!)

You are beautiful, I’m humbled to be your friend.

Learning to Pray.

I am learning a new way to pray. I’m learning to hold people before Jesus, without even having to speak words for them. When I pray this way, I place the person in my hands and with my palms open lift them up into His lap. The Holy Spirit knows what we need, more than we even know for ourselves or for others, so I am learning to allow the Holy Spirit to guide my prayer requests.

Please hold the Nepal field in your hands before Jesus. We are seeking more sustainable ways to support our field, currently it’s mostly one-time gifts with a few monthly supporters… So lift us up into Jesus’ lap, especially Silas as he carries the burden of worry about how the field will be supported every month.

Pray for visions. Pray for miracles. Pray for dreams.

Most of all, pray for love.

My Blue Shirt!

Angi Lee, my confirmation sponsor, made a joke 2 years ago “I’ll buy you a blue shirt if you become Catholic!” Today she unveiled the long awaited blue shirt…. and it is pretty sweet.

So friends, it’s finally official… I am a Catholic sealed “Catherine” in the Holy Spirit after my patron saint, Catherine Laboure of the Miraculous Medal.

Wish you all could have been there, but you were in spirit and in the beautiful book of notes that made me cry. Many thanks!

And, just to keep the tradition going, if any of YOU decide to become Catholic… I’ll buy you a blue shirt.

This is about joy not fun! (Otherwise known as the longest post in the history of Rampant Judgment.)

I often find myself saying “Oh that will be fun!” or asking “Was it fun?” or in general being concerned that people are having fun. I wish that my language was more specific… I wish I could express that I mean joy and not “fun.” Because joy is found alongside deep sorrow, as well as in simple moments and random quotes. This week of being Fleshified was incredibly joyful… (and obviously fun too.)

I reconnected with old friends; Jourt, Ange, and April especially. I love how Ange tells stories, she always makes me laugh even when it should be one of those “you had to be there” stories. April’s questions make me think deeply, and she has such a genuine, strong sense of humor. It is the affirming kind of humor that laughs at others’ jokes as much as her own. Jourtney is sweet and not guarded in her heart, it is open to Jesus and to loving truly. I forgot how short she is, which means that we need to see each other more frequently than every 18 months, especially since we can always pick up right where we left off. Spending the nights at the Nehers gave me an opportunity to spend some quality time (definitely not enough) with Matt, Julie, and Fin. I love this family, they have this way of welcoming that says “We want to be part of your life, and you to be part of ours, wherever you are in your journey.”

Meeting the new staff was a gift! I love Kyle and the Snaders, they will bring unique presence and energy to the Asia family, and Kolkata staff in particular. The Harrells were my last new friends, only about 30 minutes before leaving for Michigan again, but I think the current staff is so blessed to have these new community members. Spending some time with Nepal Andrew was illuminating… Although the popular opinion appears to be that Andrew’s “Bringing Sexy Back Moves” on the dance floor took the night, I actually am torn between his general smart-A comments, which took me aback a bit (I find my own medicine a little bitter), and our quality time at Upstream before everyone got there. He is not who I expected, and makes me excited to know him more.

As always, I heart the Office staff. Chad and Amanda at the after-party, Hilary and Marcia asking me about my Confirmation; rejoicing for me and with me in my journey, Brent and I getting to dream about Best Practices and Administration. This may be the third beer talking, (jk) but talking about the nuts and bolts and procedure of relational ministry makes me think “Simple! Qualitative! Black and White! Emotion Free!” and my spirit relaxes. I was a bit chagrined to watch Daphne and Didi pouring sugar on themselves, and I think that Caleb may have been too. However, I am honored to take part in this time-honored method of worship and community. There are not words for all the dance moves… I’m just glad to see the happy meeting of Brent’s vision for the finances of WMF with Jara’s penchant for seeing humor in all the idiosyncracies of life. (Falling dollar, Rising Euro- this story will never end).

You would think that with a weekend like this, we should all go home and sleep. No! Five of us; Jesse, Calvin, Ben, Kara and myself defied reason and all logic to drive from 7:30 am until 1:30 am to arrive in Grand Rapids, Michigan. On the way we stopped to practice our tribal warfare with Peruvian weapons in Rockford, a city that is actually one hour north of Chicago and not twenty minutes off of 80. We also played endless linguistic games and almost died in a car accident on our way to stop at my parents’ house. That was crazy as my two world’s collided with a bang, my best friend was unexpectedly engaged… and asked me to be her maid of honor, and I saw my family for the first time in over a month. It was joyful though, and I think good for all of us.

The next few days hurt my face with laughter, from being at Lake Michigan while it was snowing(!!! hard core Michiganders !!!) to Kara’s Dad, “I was dodging hard boiled eggs like it was my job.” (On two weeks of Nepali cuisine, I hear ya Dad). The “Oh Gantas” abounded, along with (not so funny) mawkery of my Michigawn ah-ccent. I still contend that my accent only sounds bee-aaaad because my voice is so high pitched. But whatever, it doesn’t get old having four people imitate you everytime you use a word with a vowel in it. (Except for the vowel “h” which is generally silent.)

I have decided, as a reward for their steadfast endurance of many Liz insults and side comments, to give each of my honorary Michiganders a special “Rampantly Judgmental” Award.

The Award for “Best Moment With Liz’ Family” goes to Jesse Heirendt, who is also the recipient of the “Most Distinct Vocal Inflections and Body Language” award. As we walked away from my parents’ house Mom called out a final injunction “Make her behave!” Jesse shouts back, “I don’t think that’s possible!” Good one Jess. Hah. Actually that laugh was sarcastic, because it was NOT funny.

“Most Quotable Quotes” goes to Kara. Some of her highlights include “Don’t put this on quotable quotes!” (refering to my Facebook wall), and “If I want it I’ll have it and if I don’t, I won’t.” (just general life wisdom) I already refered to her distinct “Oh Ganta!” and of course, the characteristic Six “Oh Gosh!” which could be translated as some combination of “I’m afraid! I feel doubt! There are so many bad situations that could result from this!”

Calvin receives the “Best Sleeper and Least Allergic” award. I unfortunately neglected to mention to this ex-Straight-Edger, the solely animal sensitive party, that I have a cat. Praise the Lord, my magical cat did not kill him. Also, he fell asleep on the hardwood floor, without a pillow, blanket, or mattress, while we were talking, shouting, and yes- someone may or may not have tried to feed him a slice of tasty carrot cake. Good work.

Ben is the “Least Sensitive and Most Sarcastic” award winner. This lack of sensitivity does not apply to climate as he wore three coats the entire weekend. This is fine for Brazil, but in Michigan we wear flip-flops until it snows. (And yes, I did prove that theory this weekend). A last minute but wonderful addition to our party, it would not have been the same without his laughter and stories, photographic skills, or old school Macbook to watch rap music videos on.

There is so much more joy to share! However, I doubt that any but the most steadfast of heart and loyal reader of this blog will have made it through my epic adventure. So I will end here and send you all Much Love with one hand clapping from Michigan! Of, if you prefer I send you my own personal rendition of Fast Car… “I got a Fast Car, I got a job that will get us out of here!”