Thursday, August 31, 2006


I don't know what I ever did without them. My Superheroes.

They can:
climb walls
destroy evil
see through concrete
breath under water
sword fight like Knights
box like Ali
protect their Beauty

and they are even sprouting fins :-)

They are Shark Boy. Lava Girl. Spiderman. Superman. Cowboys. Knights.

Good Guys.


They are brave. And inspiring.

"Mom, today we are Supers who fly around the world to tell people about God."


Brave. And inspiring.

My Heroes.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006


"Brilliantly and excitingly clever or skillful;"

It is dinner time. Mom has the day's finish line in her sights. Soapy, wet kids are at various stages of the prep for bed ritual. Voices, speaking all at once...shout through the house....then congregate at the table...

Mom: "Dinner's ready!"

"I'm still in the bath!"
"Silas keeps taking my pajamas-"
"I'm getting my clothes on..."

Mom:"Come to the table!"



"sit down Silas"
"I want apple juice!"
"Mom, I don't really like chicken."
"Oh yeah...I forgot...Thanks Mom for the chicken."
"Can we have coke?"
"How about Sprite?"
"where's my appah joos?"
"I don't like 'chini"
"It's zuchini."
"Yeah. Dat. I don't like it."

Mom: "who wants to pray?"
Silas: "MEEEEEEE!!!!"

"sear God...tank oo food...tank oo fwogs...Mom, Dad. Kinney. Ahex.Isaac. (pause) AAAAAMMMMEEENNNN!!!!"

"You get me cake!"
"sit down."
"how many chairs are in this room?"
"More than 2."
(Silas singing) "Haaappyyy Birthday dear bwow da canduls!"
"Kinley has more"
"who can finish first?
"what's the third one Mom?"
"Isaac's bronze."
"I WANT to be gold."
"Kinley's gold...she was first."
"you are bronze."
"Bronze is good Isaac."
"my hand is sticky."
"done, Mom"
"can I be excused."
"can I have chocolate?"
"do we HAVE to take medicine tonight?"
"Chocolate? Mom?"
'This chicken is good!"
"Why can't we have chocolate?"
"Silas, sit down."
'Done MOMMM!!!!"
"Thanks Mom"
"You are the best cooker ever!"

What did you talk about at dinner last night?

100 and counting...

By my count, this is post number 100. I was trying to think of some great thing to write about for number 100.


100 things I like to eat


100 people I love and adore (Of course YOU would be on the list!)

100 reasons I'll not fly British Airways :-)

100 ways to cook a a chicken

100 reasons why I should never sew

100 of my favorite recipes

or my top 100 favorite songs

But,that's alot of things to think of and read.

100---is a big number.

I wasn't very sure about the whole blog scene in the beginning. That vague, elusive INTERNET thing was pretty far removed from our Africa oasis here.
But blogging has become a haven. A resting place. A joy.

Thanks, blog friends, for reading these 100 thoughts, stories, rantings and happenings.

Your encouragement and sharing mean the world to me.

Here's to a hundred more....

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Fiona, Olivia and Asher....

I've just spent half an hour pouring over pictures. New, precious babies. Healthy. Gorgeous. and Finally Here!

One niece.

One friend that feels like family.

And one fellow Uganda MK (missionary kid).

All born to God followers. Into homes where they will know His names. Learn His stories. Hear Him praised.

May the faith of each of your parents be planted firmly into your hearts until the day when you choose for yourself that He Who has always known your name is Everything and Above All.

Welcome new ones! We are so thankful you are here!

And thank you Father. Your Creation is astounding.

"For you created my inmost being;you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;your works are wonderful, I know that full well. " Psalm 139:13-14

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Check Us Out....

Starbucks. Dairy Queen in Tyler. McAllisters. Most Hotel Chains. Airports.

AND......DRUMROLL please......

The Cash House in Fort Portal!


I can't believe it but we are.

Jeff worked very hard to set it up and here I sit. In MY chair. In MY bedroom. In the middle of nowhere Africa. With a wireless connection.

Astounding. It truly is.

Of course it will all be contingent on power supply and the dial up connection we are connected through.

But those details will occupy our minds on another day.

For now we will bask in the thrill of working technology.

It is grand.

Monday, August 14, 2006

WARNING: This blog may contain mild ranting

In light of the current ruckus at airports around the world my recounting below may seem a tad unimportant.

But I have a bone to pick.

And since I am in charge of this portion of web space, I choose to pick that bone here and now.

We have been flying internationally for over 14 years. For the last 11 we have flown British Airways, as a family, 6 times.

On three different occassions we have been chosen as we stand in line at passport checks at Gatwick and Heathrow airports. (On the other three occassions we avoided leaving the secured area so we wouldn't have to face the passport line again!)

You see, BA prints luggage requirements and restrictions on their tickets. (all airlines do)

And in case you were unaware the BA employees in England delight in following those requirements to the letter (or number as the case may be.)

On one of our first trips, before we understood the restrictions, Jeff's carry-on that held his Bible Study books was chosen randomly to be weighed. We were told he would have to check the bag and that we would be required to pay 1500 British pounds for this "assistance". (that's nearly $3000 folks!)
Jeff congratulated the man on being the new owner of a Bible Study library.
The man, apparently not a fan of Bible study, asked us to wait a bit while he could see what he could do to help us. In all of about, um, 5 seconds the helpful friend had decided that we should only pay 50 pounds ($100) for the checked bag.
So after 45 minutes of angst, embarrassment and stress we paid our $100 and boarded the flight.

Fast forward 5 years.

We are traveling back from America with a two yr. old and an infant. I have one diaper bag and a carry on (which, by the by, measured according to regulations.)As we lined up at the passport check we were "chosen" yet again by another helpful BA public servant.
He said that my diaper bag "looked" as if it weighed too much.
"Excuse me?" I said.
He asked to see my ticket and with much joy pointed out in the tiniest of print, that there was a new weight restriction on carry-on baggage.
I think it was 6 ounces.

He gleefully directed me, with my 25 pound one year old wriggling in my arms and my two year old crying in the stroller, to the last aisle of check in counters where I should take care of my "untidy" luggage.

At the counter I became aquainted with Ms. "I'm having a rotten day and I'm going to take it out on you." Another helpful BA employee.
She quickly informed me that I was not only a problem but an annoyance. And that I should learn to pack my bags better. "Don't you read the restrictions on your ticket, dear?"

I emptied my bags of everything of weight (into another bag they just happened to have for sale next to the "your bag is too heavy" racketing counter) until the only things remaining were changes of clothes for the children, diapers, wipes and baby food.
I was still .5 ounces (or something like that:-)) over weight. And my helpful BA friend would NOT budge.

I cried. Threatened breakdown. Had breakdown. Ranted a tad. And spoke with the manager.

Who apologized for the unkind woman. But held stoutly that I remove the .5 ounces.
Out went some baby food with their strong insistence that food for my young ones would be available on the flight.

Too bad my children aren't fans of kidney pie and prune pudding.

Now fast forward 5 more years.

We are traveling with four children. We each have one carry on and Jeff and I have our laptops in backpacks.
We have read the fine print. Measured our bags. Weighed our bags. And stand before the passport check with confidence that we are indeed playing by the rules.
Our passports are cleared and we begin to pass through the narrow door to security.

"Excuse me, Ma'm. May I just check that bag's dimensions?"

Sure! I knew I was okay. No problem. No worries.


New requirements.

Bags can't measure the numbers in the fine print. They have to fit well INSIDE the numbers in the fine print.

My $300 bag from REI...1 cm too long.

Now in some places there is mercy for Moms.

Not at BA counters.

Moms are synonomous with meat.

The kind BA public servant in my face this time, said I could remove anything from my 1 cm too long bag and put in my backpack. As long as it only weighed 6 ozs. :-)

The line behind me was long at this point and the passport man (also intent on being helpful) begins to point out that over 30 people are waiting on me.

"Open your bag." "What do you need?" "Hurry ma'm!" " Everyone's waiting on you!"

I was feeling the love.

Jeff carried the bag to the check in. I cried. Kinley cried. We cleared security and went to wait at our gate. Every second bringing a new reminder of one more thing I should have grabbed from the bag before we checked it.

I ran out of diapers on the flight. And as I stood washing out Silas' soiled pants in the tiny airplane lavatory (extra clothes in checked bag) I reiterated in my mind again all the reasons I should fly Sabena.

So, faithful blog readers, there you are.

My ranting will now conclude.

I'll end by saying I'm ALL FOR security and following rules. Which is the real rub. I THINK I am following the rules. I TRY to follow the rules. And my bag gets taken anyway leaving me with the embarassment of the "scene".

Ah well....

It looks like my carry on woes may be over.

I sure hope they print those plastic bag dimensions clearly on my tickets.

The Finish Line

We're home. In our house. All thirteen boxes, 6 carry-ons and 6 weary travelers.

We arrived in Ft Portal on Wednesday.

And found things as normal.

Road blocked.

Rat invaded.

Water leak.

Power off.

No phone or internet.

Home sweet home.


There is alot of work to be done between now and the official "we're settled" declaration.

But for now I'm just going to catch my breath. Walk off the sprint. And enjoy the Finish Line.

I am glad to be here.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

One Last Time...

We are one hour from our departure to the airport. Today has been our "one last time" day.

We had a bout 3 hours this afternoon and a delightful chauffeur. (Yeah Blake!!!)

Guess where we headed?


and Taco Bell.

But of course.

Visiting Target was rather emotional for me :-) but we made it through.

With a huge cart full of goodies.

I have now stuffed and packed one last time.

Walked the hallowed aisles of my beloved store one last time.

Eaten Nachos Bel Grande one last time.

Driven on organized paved roads one last time.

And now the only thing left--Starbucks, one last time.

Many, many thanks to Blake P. for graciously being available to us. He made our joy today possible!

Farewell blog friends from this side of the pond. Will connect again when we reach Uganda.


I love the silence around me. It is punctuated by the long deep breaths of my sleeping children.

There are towers of black trunks lined along the walls.

My stiff back will not cooperate with my need for sleep, so I sit in this office chair and type willing my shoulders to loosen and my brain to slow down.

I have spent the better part of one week stuffing, folding, compressing, consolidating and arranging.

Stuff. Stuff. and more Stuff.

And now I am tired.

Furlough is over.

I've been trying to put into words the emotions that swirl around me and in me.

The heartbreak of goodbye. The exhaustion of preparing. The joy and praise of the moments I've had. The richness of the memories made. The stress of the process. The anticipation of being back home.

On this eve of our trip back across the ocean I'm reminded--these heavy, stuffed to the brim, boxes and bags do not hold the real treasures I am taking back.

Thank you friends and family for sharing time with us again. You mean the world to us. The lunches, laughs, prayers, dreams, struggles and even the heartbreak point me to my Father. Who can never Quit. Always Sees. And waits longing to be gracious to us.

He is so very good.