Broken Heart

"The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise." Psalm 51:17

When we were preparing to leave for Uganda, many precious souls passed on interesting, humorous (and on rare occassions--helpful:-) tidbits of advice to insure survival in a third world country.

Of all the wonderful bits I gleaned, one morsel has proven to be the jewel.

The sage comment came from someone I barely knew. She was the preachers wife at Jeff's home church. At one point she pulled me aside and said, "Sometimes, the only thing there is to do is lay down across your bed and cry. So when you need to, I give you permission. Just cry it out!"

The wise voice of a veteran. In these East Africa years, everytime I have opened the floodgates to release the pent up mess inside me...I have thought of her generous gift to me. Understanding and validity.

Tonight, I am exhausted. Completely depleted, can hardly lift my arms, brain dead---exhausted.

My heart is broken. And I have laid across my bed and cried.

Sin.

Why do we do it?

The specific details are really not that important in the end. The basic framework is usually the same. Someone seperates himself from God. Doesn't trust. Starts with a little bit... Rationalizes. Becomes entangled....begins to die...

This week the smell of death overpowered us in the Fort Portal church. But after three days of confession, repentance, accountability and God's Grace (deep sigh)...I perceive Revival has begun.

One man. Poor choices. Anger. Accusation. Confession. Guilt. Promises. Betrayal. Tears.

And many broken hearts. Not the least of which...is His.

But in that Mysterious and Mind Boggling Way...He actually has us now...right where He can meet us.

Broken. Hurting. On our knees. Needing...

The Healer. Saviour. Compassionate One.

In our moments of shattering confession...we are real. Pretension erased. Hearts laid bare. And He begins to Heal. Painfully. Gently. Faithfully. Healing...Hearing...Watching.

It's not what this third world has come to expect. Shame. Accusation. Blame and Abandonment. That's what accompanies the darkness.

How unbelievably brilliant is His Revealing Light. Waiting, hopeful, ready...to flood the gloom of a dying heart. And Revive.

Please pray today for the heart of my dear brother here. Pray that he will be strong to stand, in a different way than anyone around him. Revealed. Imperfect. Forgiven. Fought for. Redeemed.

"Create in me a clean heart O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me.Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me." Psalm 51:10-12

Two Years and Counting

We hit a milestone this week.

Our baby turned two. And we are NOT expecting another one! :-)

Two is always a memorable birthday...it marks the beginning of what will be some intense years of parenting. These boundary testing times....my oh my.

The irony of a two year old is that the complete joy and delight of one moment can instantaneously transform into the most difficult test of patience and temper you have ever experienced....and then, before the time-out is complete...you're back to joy and delight.

Quite the ride.

And I have to say...one I'm glad to experience...all told.

Silas was our true surprise. My first months of carrying him were filled with astounded shock. I COULD NOT be pregnant. But, alas. The nausea over came me...and the stick showed two lines.

His arrival took place on this soil...Uganda. His first months were full of colicky fun (?). His first year included travel to four different countries, a trip to Disneyland and so much attention from his doting siblings he still thinks the world revolves around him.

He is....a sign of how well God knows me....and keeps on giving anyway.

My birthing days have been a whirlwind. Four kids in 5 1/2 years. The baby years have felt like a blur. But through this last one...I've been able to actually hold on to the moments a time or two.... and I have so cherished those times. I think with number four...I was trying really hard to pay attention.
My Father must have known I needed that.
One more opportunity to open my eyes a little wider. One more baby to have our features and personality traits (egads!)--with all the joy and humility that demands! One more precious awareness of the constant need to re-evaluate what I value.

On his birthday this week, he actually let me rock him for 20 minutes. We had guests coming for a party. I had lunch to get ready...cakes to ice...a floor to sweep. But it was time for his nap and I was trying to make it a little bit special. He cuddled in my lap and we sat in the silence. Just the two of us. Rocking. I guess because I know from experience that these moments rush away...I WAS paying attention. And it was delightful.

Several of my friends are already at the letting go stage of parenting...and I'm starting to believe them when they say it will be here before I know it.
But it's hard to think about that now. Tomorrow lies on the other side of a few hours of sleep...and with tomorrow comes sippy cups to fill, diapers to change, potty training to master, more than one battle of wills, books to read,pacifiers to locate...

Through the blur, the "moments" emerge. I'm striving to savor and experience...not just "get through".

A milestone.

For me, Silas' two year mark, signifies the longest stretch I've gone in 7 years without being pregnant. (Could it be we FINALLY figured this out?!?!?)

But more than that. Silas' big day signifes God's all knowing and yet remarkably merciful care. He KNOWS what we deserve and yet lovingly gives us something way better. It's pretty stinkin' great, if you ask me.

I always wanted to be a Mommy.

God blessed me four times over. He is good.

Happy Birthday Silas. I am so glad you are here!

Dare I Say It?

Shhhhh....Listen very carefully, because I am whispering.

Something wonderful happened today. And I don't want it to go away...

Child #3, went all day without a diaper...and...lean in so you can hear...no accidents.

I am using an effective parenting method that I have perfected through these 7 years of mommy-ing...Bribery.

Pee in the potty...one Hershey's kiss.
Poo in the potty...two Hershey's kisses.

Nevermind the bouncing off the walls...nevermind the other children begging for their chocolate...nevermind the blatant disregard for highly educated, morally fortified, honorable parenting systems...

I have resorted to the Real World of Parenting...AKA...Whatever works :-)

And for today...Hershey's and me...we worked.

Please don't say this outloud. I don't want anything to burst our happy, little, victory bubble.
But feel free to pass around some silent high fives!

"Yea!"

Granddaddy

The smell of engine oil. The feel of his hand as he held mine when we prayed before meals (I sat to his left--always.) Plain yellow cake. (Mamma said it is his favorite) Pick up trucks. Ice Cream. Repaired Barbie Dolls. Dukes of Hazard. The address file under the phone. The Lake House. Trips to Baskin Robbins. Lawn mowers. Bags of goodies from the Oil Show. Nutter Butters.

Gentleness. Honesty. Hard work. Family.

Happy Birthday Granddaddy. My love and admiration for you are from depths that are hard to articulate. You make me feel treasured. And adored. Usually without even saying anything. Which is your gift to our world. Quiet strength. Be sure, we all depend on it.

In this big scary world, I've always been confident...there is a quiet, steadfast man on my side who really can fix anything.
I love you.

Longing For That Big Red Store

So, if you, like many precious others, have been mesmerized by those big red circles...I just read a hilarious post that is right on Target...(smile)

Check it out friends. And then head out to that Lovely Place of Bargains for me. I would so love to meet you there!

http://www.deanaland.blogspot.com

That's Our Boy!

During our second and third years in Uganda, our little corner of the country faced a drastic crisis. A rebel army began terrorizing the villages all through the Rwenzori Mtns.
Jeff and the young men at church spent the better part of the two years delivering food relief and medical treatment to the hardest hit villages. It was a difficult, blessed, exhausting, amazing time.

I experienced this time in a unique way. From my bed.

Just as the rebels marched within 15 miles of our quaint little town...I discovered that one of my greatest longings had been fulfilled. I was officially going to be a mommy. Jeff and I were ecstatic over the news of our first little one. Soon after the nausea and pregnancy sickness began to take firm hold of my being...another sickness attempted to steal the whole show. Malaria.

The combined onslaught left me completely depleted and stuck in bed. I spent alot of time on prayer patrol. Desperate prayers for our unborn baby. Intensive prayers for Jeff and the guys.

Jeff would come home at the end of his very long days and tell me some of the things he had experienced. I remember one day in particular. He was in Ntoroko, a small, hot, fishing village on Lake Albert. While they were there,he was asked to go and help a dying boy.

When he entered the mud hut, he smelled a rancid odor and saw a small boy, with a large, infected wound covering his leg. Jeff described the wound as the worst he had ever seen. The wound stretched from mid thigh to the ankle and the boys leg was permanently bent due to the decay of the muscles.

What touched Jeff most was the boy's....smile. Yep. One smile from that precious suffering boy...and Jeff's heart was gone.

He said to me, "He really is the cutest thing you have ever seen! I can't wait for you to meet him."

Samuel.

Samuel's mom had brought him back to his village so he could die at home. They didn't have the cash for the surgery he needed. Five dollars.

Jeff gave them the money that day, but he had very little hope that Samuel would get the help he needed in that village hospital.

Jeff made arrangements to stay in contact. And he did. Two years of hospital confinement, three major surgeries, an amputation and several months of rehabilitation later...Samuel emerged from a horrific struggle...healthy, smart and still smiling.

He wanted to start back to school. He was very behind by that time, but he was determined...so we put him in a nearby school.

He went to the head of his class and has stayed there. The teachers and administrators love him. He has held leadership positions and was responsible for keeping the school keys.
He even preached on Sunday mornings for the school chapel. Amazing.

What a thrill to see him thrive. Volleyball, soccer, academics, social skills...(he completely won over the entire Faith Quest crowd with his own rap about a Butoro Boy!)...what a joy.

This morning (Saturday), Ronald came over to tell us that he saw our son's name in the paper. (Uganda Monitor Page 1) Samuel Balinda scored in the top 5 of this district on the Uganda National Exams...which is a high and distinct honor. It pretty much secures a place for him in a very good secondary school.

And it makes me cry.

Sam has faced obstacles like I can't even imagine. And unfortunately, many still remain for him. Mainly, as we watch him face adolescence, he is coming up against the obstacle of himself. His choices. The direction and path he will walk....

I pray for him like I pray for my own.

That year....seven years ago...was a big year for our family. We were expecting one child. God graciously gave us two. One looks just like us. One never will. :-) Both lives are results of His miraculous care and healing. Both are treasures in our lives.

...and one of them just aced a big exam and will head on to the next phase. We are so thankful for what we've seen God do in Samuel's life. Please pray with us that Samuel will hear God's voice and walk with Him in every way.

Zowee!!!!!

All these years in Uganda, I've admired plaited hair from afar. (Braided with extensions) I've always thought it was gorgeous. I've had several American and European friends who had their hair braided here. And I loved it!
Well, in all the admiring...my sweet friends left out one MINOR detail about the whole braiding, plaiting phenomenon....

IT HURTS!!!!!!!

Oh my goodness.

I started at 9 AM and the first little bit pulled and smarted pretty good. But I was set to be tough. I was ready...excited to see how it would all turn out.

Well..that optimism degenerated over the next 5 increasingly excruciating hours into HATE. I hated the lovely girls yanking and pulling on my head, I hated the other 20 women on the porch braiding or being braided....I hated the world. No kidding.

I'm sure I'll get over it. It has now been 6 hours since the tortuous task ended and....my head still hurts. All my friends have said I'll feel better in two days and not to expect to sleep well. Great.

So the up-side:

*I have a really cool do...that I am proud of.
*I feel like I have sort of stepped through an African woman's rite of passage...
*I am now well aquainted with every teeny little nerve in my scalp....I mean EVERY ONE.
*I have officially forgiven my Mom for all those painful, pointy-hot-roller episodes. You were right Mom, it COULD be worse!

Now I'm going to go take some Ibuprofen and try to sleep. On my face.

Go! Team! Go!

It all began with a little flick about my high school senior year football season. We watched it the other night. (my opinion of the movie still stands at "weird". Some of the movie I hated...some of it was all right. All in all...weird. But I digress...)

We were the Panthers. Mojo. And that is cool. Tough. Panthers are...intimidating.

The question was posed later among my housemates here...what are people thinking when they pick school mascots? I mean, I think the mascot is probably picked by committees. Things like that usually fall to a committee. And, really, what are people thinking?!!?!?

At some point in any school (high school, junior high, college, university) competition does enter the picture and it would seem to me that "the committee" would choose mascots that would instill confidence...courage...boldness...pride.

Well, my friends. Not so.

Take for instance the poor university students in Camas Washington. The Papermakers. Yep. Of all the mighty. scary, fear inducing animals available to choose from...their committee chose Papermakers.

Or you have the mighty...the proud...the Oakville Acorns. Acorns?

Or, from Indiana, the Goshen College Maple Leafs.

Is anybody scared? I can't begin to imagine what the fight song might be.

For goodness sakes.

I thought that, surely, these mascot choosing blunders would be limited to a few schools but take a look at what I found with only a few VERY interrupted minutes of research on the web:

Banana Slugs--University of California
Turtles--College of Insurance (not sure where)
Retrievers--Univ. of Marlyand
Rainbows--Univ of Hawaii (why not Sharks?)
Anteaters--University of California

or...even more unfortunate...
the Buttons in San Antonio
and the Daisies of Dallas Hockaday School (all girls?)

For those that are intimidated by rhyming verse...you will shudder when you are called to face the Poets of Whittier College.

And for those with a fear of the religious...beware the Whitman Missionaries (we are a fierce sort) or the Preachers of Johnson Bible College.

My top picks are as follows:

Most clever---the Lincoln Abes in Tacoma Washington
Most scary--tie between the Klickitat Vandals and the Grays Harbor Chokers
Most difficult names for the girls' teams---tie between the Whatcom Orcas or Yakima Valley Yaks

But, my most favorite, unfortunate mascot falls to Kaelea's high school in Montana. They were...brace yourselves...the Sugarbeaters.

Oh my. The actual picture of their mascot was a red beet riding on a pair of beaters.

And despite that...their girls volleyball team went to State. Bless their little sugarbeatin' hearts.

I'm not totally sure why this bugs me so. I guess...I believe, deep down, that everyone deserves a chance. And when it comes to kids and athletics...you just shouldn't send them out to face their menacing opponents,like the Lions or Wildcats with a name like Buttons or Billygoats.

It just doesn't seem fair.

Still Breathing

Graul arrival. Check.
Faith Quest. Check.
Game Park Safari. Check.
Kyenjojo church visit. Check.
Alex's Birthday. Check.
Christmas. Check.
Rwebesengo/Ntoroko trip. Check.Check.

To briefly recap...these past few weeks have included....one trillion referreed toy discussions ("mine!","no, mine!"), 65,000 choice statements ("Isaac, if you choose to hit Mali with the robot you are choosing a time out."), 450 sippy cups of juice, 150 bowls of cereal, 12 boxes of macaroni and cheese, 6 hacking coughs, 5 nights camping in tents(with 7 children under 7 yrs), 4 stomach bugs, two road trips ("Ms. Cheryl, can you PLEASE stop making it so bumpy!"), more fruit snacks than you can possibly imagine....and a partridge in a pear tree...

And we are all still breathing...

In the midst of all that...with remarkable conversational prowess..Kaelea (mama Graul) and I have managed to have several meaningful talks and sharing times. (God is good and gracious :-))

...we've listened to some really good music (which Ike loaded on my new MP3 player!)

...watched some really funny movies!

...shared the ups and downs of ministering here and there

...laughed

...watched our children laugh, cry and love each other
(Alex said the other night at bedtime,"Mom, I'll be really sad when Isaiah has to go.")

...made memories we will treasure for years

We've got @ two weeks left with the Grauls. More fruit snacks, mac n cheese and, well, one or two more referreed toy discussions probably too...("Ike, its Jeff's turn now...")

But we will all keep breathing slowly in and out...praising God for the blessings He keeps bringing our way.

Thank you for your prayers. (and thank you PUMP friends for sharing the Grauls with us.)

Perfect Gift

Christmas Eve was always my very favorite day of the year. Everyone was gathering. Family was coming. Gifts were wrapped and under the tree. Chicken spaghetti was cooking. The anticipation...the readiness...the expectancy...

My family opened gifts on Christmas Eve. And it was perfect.

We'd gather around 4 or 5 pm. My sister and I would volunteer to sort the gifts (I love to sort!). Everyone would have their pile of wrapped loot. We'd find our spot...and... then...the paper would fly!!! No waiting for one at a time in the Money household. Just pure, unhindered...digging in.
There would be exclaims...joyous laughs...expectant faces as someone opened the perfect gift...pleasure over seeing the joy the gift brings... FUN!

I guess its fitting that Christmas Eve is my favorite day. Because in 1999, Christmas Eve brought me a treasure unlike any I'd received before.

He was a surprise for us. Kinley was only one year old when he was conceived. That would make them 21 months apart. Yikes!

Jeff and I always knew what we would name a boy. Alexander Scott. It was a done deal...and despite my hormonally charged name hunts...Alexander Scott remained first on the list.

He was beautiful when he was born. Perfect really. What is it about a newborn that makes you just STARE at them for hours? During those first few days I stared and stared. God had given us a son.

We took him back to the guesthouse at the Schrage's house Christmas day. We were all in love with this boy. His grin stole my heart from the first day until, well, even now.

It was six years ago today. He is not a cuddly bundle in my arms anymore. I can barely pick that sturdy guy up at all.

He looks just like my Dad. Funny thing,that. You see...five months before Alex entered the world...Bryson entered the world. My baby sister had her first baby. And I wasn't there to see it. It was awful for me, on this side of the ocean. Still is one of the things about our life choice I grieve the most. I kept asking God to help me through. To comfort. And He did the most amazing thing. He gave me a boy too...that looks just like Bryson. Seriously.

I don't know what YOU think about providential planning...but everytime I see Bryson, Alex and my Dad together...I know God is watching and providing simple little gifts that often hold us together.

Alex is a delight in my life. He is his sister's best friend. Isaac's hero. Silas' champion. His Dad's first born Son.

He spends his days ripping through school (the boy is sharp!), building spaceships, listening to music, protecting mankind (and his sister) from all evil in the world...sometimes as a knight, sometimes as a cowboy, sometimes as a soldier and sometimes as a Super (you know, batman, spiderman, superman...etc.) And, he has a passion for...scotch tape. He asks me for about 20 pieces "just this big" every day. He is always creating with that tape.

I love when I tuck him in at night. His brain is in the slow down mode...but not quite there yet. He asks a million questions...tries the water request...tries to read a few more lines of his book...but just as I start to leave his bedside...those strong six-year old arms reach out, pull me into a hug and he whispers, "love you Mom." And the grin. Always the grin.....

Happy Birthday Alex! To date...and most definitely forever...the very best gift I ever got on Christmas Eve.....

Circle of Chairs

They were camp chairs. Three of them. Sometimes four. We continuously had to re-situate the chairs to stay out of the equatorial sun.

Before us was a stack of requests. Prayer requests. From the Ugandan youth.

We read them, one by one. And prayed.

Some of the requests were expected...school fees, success with exams and further education, healing for physical problems...

Some of the requests stopped us in our tracks.

"Pray for my father to accept Jesus. Now he is not saved and he wants me to have sex with him in exchange for my school fees."

"Pray for me. I have a problem with looking at pornography."

"Pray for me...I have problems with lust."

"Pray for my family. They chased me away when I chose to follow Jesus. Now I have no where to go."

"Pray for me to have courage. I am attending an Islamic university and I am a Christian. I am treated badly. Pray that I will have courage to share my faith with the Muslims in my school."

Everyday, for three days, I was honored to sit around the throne of God, in His glorious presence, and interede for these precious Creations of His.
He already knew what we were going to talk about in these moments. His Perfect Heart has already broken over the atrocities these youth have faced in their young lives. And in the midst of governing the Universe...our amazing Creator allowed us access to...Himself. His Ear. His Heart. His Compassion. His Able-ness.

I was intereceding with powerful warrior friends. Mike. Judy. Phillip.

All believers. Witnesses to God's healing hand. God's presence in the midst of pain. God's victories. They are survivors of Satan's attacks and reign on this earth. And yet they remain, firmly in God's protective hand. It was an honor to stand with them in the battle.

Last week, many things happened. Many things worthy of Praise. But for me...the highlight of the week was the circle of chairs.

I was in the circle to lift up others. But in the process, I was brought before Him too. All my angst, joy, stress, blessing, victory, defeat...all is laid open before that Holy, safe throne.

His Throne. Our camp chairs. His availability and promise. Amazing.

"Again, I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything you ask for, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them." Matt 18:19-20

Quest of Faith

The house is still relatively quiet this morning. Integrity's Christmas Cd is playing. Veggie Tales entertains the first children up. Silas has had his morning cereal...which actually means he has eaten two bites then spent 20 minutes pouring the milk, doing milk art and then rubbing it in his hair. I am too tired to worry about it. It's milk. And he was occupied for 30 minutes. Everyone else is still crashed....Graul's in the guest room, Cashes in their respective bedrooms, Samuel in the playroom. The living room and hall are littered with the after effects of a camping trip. The washing machine and dryer are working away already on a very large pile of laundry...

This week was spent camping out at Lake Saaka...with nearly 200 youth and counselors from all of the churches of Christ in Uganda.

The idea for this Quest was born in the Northwest. And created in the Northwest. (United States, that is.) Many lives are changed, convicted, refreshed, and renewed during one Labor Day weekend retreat at Camp Yamhill in Oregon.

Jeff wanted to bring this Quest into the lives of youth here in Uganda. Jeff's dreams are usually so big I can't get my emotions all the way around them in the beginning. And this was one of those dreams. But with his Vision, God has also granted Persistence. And Faith Quest Uganda has become a reality.

Every year gets better. The first year, the campers hardly had tents. They slept on the ground in the bush....and LOVED it. The meetings were held in a banana leaf/bamboo structure. About 100 youth attended. The topic, was appropriately...Faith. The campers departed asking for more. They loved the entire program. We were encouraged.

The second year, four Quest leaders from the Northwest came over to help lead. Most campers had tents. No one had toilets..."use the trees, my friend" and Prayer was the topic of discussion. Everyone was dramatically changed by the events of the Quest...and God was shown to have ALL power and authority again.

The third year, five Quest leaders from the Northwest came over to help. Everyone had tents...and ants. (Yikes!) Mark Long built us a make-shift toilet in the woods. We talked about Worship. And we did worship. Alot. The ampitheatre was cemented for the occasion and the gorgeous view across the crater lake inspired, motivated and charged the passion in the young people and older people too! :-)

This, the fourth year, five more Quest leaders have come. Two of them are adults. Three of them are children. Yes, you heard me right. Isaiah (5yrs), Mali and Michal (3 yr old twins) have made the very long trip across the ocean and are here. Handling it. (all you who have said you could never make the trip...I'll hear you no more! I, M and M have set a high standard, my friends!)
We all had tents. We staff had our own "village" and kitchen with a cook making omelets in the morning. (Yes, Steve, omelets). We had a bricked and plastered bath house with warm showers available if requested. AND...we had real sit-down toilets. Pretty nice.
The topic was Sharing the Love of Jesus. The worship times were more intense this year. The prayer times...amazing. Sins were confessed. God was sought. Burdens were laid down. It was BLESSED.

On the last night, as I sat in the ampitheatre and watched the faces..my emotions "wrapped around it all". Young people, from turmoil and stress beyond my comprehension, have gathered to learn how to trust...in Him. And there, on that last night, their worship together was inspiring. On the faces around me, I saw, peace. Joy. Sincerity. Need. Blessing. And I realized that this Quest of Faith CAN change not only these young lives...but also whole villages...and even this whole country. One desperate soul at a time.

The Quest is a worthy one. And it will continue in Uganda...hopefully, not just for four days in December. But every day.

God bless you as you Quest for Him wherever you are today...

He Sees Me

I learned something from a friend today. Her story is pretty special. Let me tell you about her.

She is from Egypt. Not from a very wealthy family...if you could say she had family at all. When she was young she got sold...as a slave.

Must have been a bit frightening...being sold as a slave. Her master, though, turned out to be pretty nice. She helped his wife. The wife was quite pretty.

They traveled alot, her masters. So she saw alot of places. Even got to live in the Homeland for awhile.

All in all, not so bad.

This couple, they had no children. So the work load wasn't too terrible. But, even as old as they were, they kept talking about having a son. Oh really? They said their God had promised them.

She didn't know their God. But they sure seemed to like Him. Trust Him. Apparently they were traveling all over the place because He said to. Hmmm...it was very interesting.

One day, the old missus, suggested that she (the maid) sleep with the master. Never had this entered the picture before. Why now? He didn't argue too much. So she went...it was kind of weird. I mean, a girl dreams of her husband. But here, as a slave, she's given to her master. Not exactly dreamy...but certainly not the first time it ever happened. Besides, he WAS a good man. It would be okay.

She thought it was possible....but could she be sure? Pregnant? Yes. Just as her masters wished. She was pregnant.

But it sure wasn't easy...this being pregnant. She didn't feel so very good. And for what? For a baby that wouldn't be hers. It was her master's. She sure didn't feel good. What a mess. And who was to blame...Yep. The Missus. This was all her bright idea. Yuck.

It was hard to serve her now...carrying water, cooking, cleaning. She was heavy with a baby. Wasn't that enough already. Things were going allright until this.

To top it all off, the Missus turned mean. Really mean. She never did any of this before. My friend was a threat. The Missus could kill her. Now what?!?!?

In desperation, my friend fled. Into the desert. Alone.

... she came upon a Spring. And an Angel. He was looking for my friend. This slave from Egypt.

"Where have you come from, and where are you going?"

She spoke the truth. No sense in lying.

The angel said, "Go back. Submit." And he added, "...your descendants...they will be too numerous to count."

What? Was that a...blessing? She was a slave. She was a woman. But that IS what the Angel said. "HER descendants..."

The angel also said, her son (a BOY!) would be stubborn (oh good) and would "live in hostility." (Pause)

A warring son. A strong willed man. Born of her.

"...the Lord has heard your misery..." the angel had said.

The Lord?

She knew of many gods from her childhood. But this One was different. Here she was. Suffering. Alone. A woman. About to bear a fighting son. All perfect examples of the gods disapproval. But this God....

"Beer Lahai Roi," her desperate voice carried over the desert plain.

"You are the God who sees me."

And she added, "I have now seen the One who sees me."

When you know someone is watching...you can do admirable things...

Despite the struggle, she followed the One who sees and went back to the Missus. Submitted. Served. Labored and bore a son.

Her suffering continued though. The Missus did have a son. But she never warmed back up to my friend. The Master sure was kind. Tried to support my friend. But ultimately...she was just the slave and she got sent away.

Another desert, more desperation and then...another Spring. A drink of water. And a promise. The child would be a great nation. Warring. But great.

Problems with a promise. Encompassed by a God who sees.

I don't know what happened to my friend exactly. She raised her son. Found him a wife. He became the father of a great nation.

And her...well. One thing is for sure. She was never the same...this slave from Egypt. Used, rejected by men, forced into single motherhood....

And seen. Sought out. Found. Promised.

She knew His Name. And spoke it.

Yep. I'm absolutely sure. She was never the same.

And because of her story...today...neither am I.

"Beer Lahai Roi!" Praise be to Him!

(Story and quotes taken from Genesis 16:1-16 and Genesis 21:8-21)

Take a Big, Deep Breath...

We are on the eve of some very big events...

--Graul family arrival Wed for five week stay
--Faith Quest
--Game Park Safari
--Rwebesengo Church Visit (two day trip to Congo border)
--Kagadi church Visit (two hour drive--one way)
--Kyenjojo church Visit
--Alex's birthday
--Christmas

It is hard for this task oriented, detail focussed lady to take in that ALL of those things take place within the next 3 weeks.

So tonight, I am sitting in the dark, staring at my Christmas lights...

Taking a big, deep breath...

Trusting in Him Who Gently Leads...

Knowing, from experience, there are many blessings ahead.

I've just got to keep breathing...:-)

Epilogue--Embraced

I got a box today. Jana packed it. She is my "jump in the car-go to Canton" friend. :-)
The box had all our favorites. And now those precious treasures are carefully placed on our freezer so we can walk in the pantry and see the delightful items all laid out!

We got a box last week and four boxes the week before that.

This morning I put on lipgloss Kristen bought, mascara Dana bought and the same perfume that Trisha wears.

I read a magazine over lunch that Lynn and Marjorie sent, gave each child Tootsie Rolls from Tootsie, and let them listen to Odyssey tapes sent by Greta.

I have pictures on my email from Cathy, and I made a chocolate cobbler recipe from Thyme and Traditions cookbook.

I told a story about Alex's Rescue Hero Station that he got from Glenwood last Christmas.

I REVELED in the SHEER DELIGHT of driving that beautiful LANDCRUISER to a village outside of town.

My pantry is stocked with Rotel, Velveeta, microwave popcorn, chocolate chips and Goldfish crackers. (NOT items available in the local market :-)

...tonight, as I stood in my kitchen corner, with all the lights out, and had a quiet moment with Our God...I remembered that I shared this secret worship place with 35 of my closest friends :-) at ladies Bible class.... and all of a sudden I wasn't worshipping alone anymore...

I know, that somewhere in Tyler, someone is praying for our family, the church in Ft. Portal and God's Kingdom in Uganda.

Glenwood church building is thousands of miles away from where I sit right now. But they have dramatically impacted my day today in a million ways.

They are our church family. Our Support. God's Embrace.

Jack was right...

I love you Glenwood. The story of our coming to you fills me with joy, hope and faith everytime I remember it.

I'll say it again, God is good.

"May the Lord make your love increase and overflow for each other and for everyone else, just as ours does for you. May he strengthen your hearts so that you will be blameless and holy in the presence of our God and Father when our Lord Jesus comes with all his holy ones." 1 Thess 3:12-13

PartIV---Home

We flew out twice to Tyler after the initial visit. And after two pretty incredible meetings...and oh, so many prayers...we were invited to stay in Tyler for several months to become Glenwood's missionaries.

On our first Sunday at Glenwood, the elders announced that we had been taken on as missionaries.Some folks in that generous congregation errupted in applause. Applause.
I cried. Besides being overly hormonal..(reminder...HUGELY pregnant) I felt so loved...so amazed... so...hopeful...

Over the next months, I learned this about Glenwood:

1. Everyone is related to someone else at Glenwood---truly!
2. Glenwood LOVES to feed its people!
3. Glenwood LOVES children and became Home to my little ones very quickly.
4. Glenwood SEEKS...God, Jesus,the Spirit's leading... and they seek PEOPLE who are broken...people who are hurting..
5. Glenwood LOVES to WORSHIP!!!!!
6. Glenwood was God's chosen place for the Cash family and the Ft. Portal work.

Tyler became a haven for us. A place to re-charge and regroup. A place to belong.

Our Isaac was born, loved on, prayed over and blessed.

Our support team came together in a beautiful way as 6 precious couples agreed to serve the Uganda work from the States.

We worshipped and prayed and shared and planned.

We experienced the Glenwood Generosity in spades. Cars, an apartment, food, baby stuff, friendship...fellowship...love...our cup did runneth over!

I was overwhelmed every day I was there. Glenwood was more than I ever dreamed possible. My faith was renewed. My hope restored.

We were home.

Part III---Tell Me the Story

(this is fourth in a series of blogs...if you are just starting to read, scroll down to the prologue and start there...)

Jack and Tootsie's phone rang non-stop. Jack smiled alot.

Things began to take shape. We were to meet with the new mission committee chairman...group dinner Thurs...sharing time Friday...lunch with Greg ("he's the greatest guy..."Jack said)... lunch with Jim...

We met alot of people. Faces, names, quick smiles and hugs. We sat in alot of circles and told ALLLLOOOOOTTTTTTT of Africa stories.

As Jeff would talk, I would watch the faces. They were passionate. Spell-bound. Interested....

They couldn't get enough.

I was amazed at this. Most people enjoy a story or two...but these folks would CHOOSE to listen for hours at a time. We'd stop when WE got tired. Usually, it was the other way around.

It seemed to me...and I was still cautious in my assessment...but, it did seem...God was building in these people a deep love and passion for the Ft. Portal work. I wanted that to happen...but could it really? Congregation-wide? Kids to adults? Elders, missions committee....I was watchful. But still hesitant a bit.

At night, we would return to Jack and Tootsie's. Over a bowl of cereal we would talk about what we were experiencing. Jack would smile. Remind us he was praying.
And somewhere in the talking, Jack would say. "If God makes this happen, you're gonna be loved like you've never been loved before. Because Glenwood will TAKE CARE OF YOU. I just know it."

Then Jack and Tootsie would ask Jeff to tell just one more story....

Part II--Wednesday Night Supper

(This is the third blog in a series of blogs...if you are a first time reader, scroll down to the prologue and start there!)

Jack emailed us that the church in Tyler wanted us to visit over Easter weekend. He didn't know exactly what we would be able to do while we were there, or who we would be able to meet...but could we come?

Sure. I was cautiously optimistic. Heavy on the caution...we'd been through this so many times. It was sometimes painful to get your hopes up.

We drove into Tyler in the late afternoon and were directed to the church building. (Thank you, Tanner) The church ate together on Wednesday nights and it would give us an initial opportunity to meet folks. I smiled at alot of faces while trying to feed my 4yr old and 2 yr old chicken spaghetti. (Did I mention I was HUGELY pregnant!)

The associate minister was visiting with my husband and I overheard snatches of the conversation. "...give you about five minutes....question answer format...really informal...intial introduction..."

We were directed into the auditorium and sat down towards the front (mother of toddlers nightmare---the FRONT of an auditorium of people you'd like to make a nice impression on---egads!) As the minister began to introduce my husband, I noticed three stools in the front...one for the minister, one for my husband and... who is supposed to sit on that other one?....oh no! Yep.
"Come on down Cheryl. We want to put YOU on the spot!" (many thanks Rob!)
I waddled up to the front and my loving husband quickly handed me the microphone FIRST. Great.
I think I said something about world peace. (thanks for the tip Aunt Pat)
Jeff said some good things, we passed the microphone around a bit and then Rob asked if the congregation had any questions.

The first question came from an older gentleman near the back. He said, "What can we give to you?" (precious Jim Welch...in Heaven right now....giving to someone, I'm sure....)

We answered something about prayer and encouragement...

The older gentleman shook his head and said, "No. I mean financially. What would it take for this church to take care of your family in every way?"

Uhhhhmmmm....what did he say? Rob said, "Jim, we'll get Jeff to write the details of his financial needs down for us."

I remember hands going up all over the auditorium and us answering questions right and left. Rob ended the worship time with prayer and people came from every direction. We talked and hugged and were loved on and EMBRACED.

As we drove to Jack and Tootsie's house later that night, Jeff asked me what I thought.
I said, " I feel like we've come home." He said that he felt the same way.

Home.

Part I--McDonalds

My most memorable McDonald's meal took place in Abilene. I was hugely pregnant with our third child and we were trying to survive an extended furlough while looking for a new overseeing church.

Jack and Tootsie. We'd been looking for them for the whole lectureship and finally, on the last day, we met them face to face. They asked us have lunch with them.

Jack was the head of the mission's committee at a church in Tyler. We were meeting to discuss...well...our life. Our dreams. Our struggles. Our hopes.

Everything really. And we decided to do that discussing over greasy McDonald's burgers. Jack and Tootsie were patient with us. We chose McD's because of the play place.

I remember telling Jack alot of stories while Tootsie madly tore open ketchup packets to keep our kiddos happy and stuffed with french fries!

I remember feeling tired and weary to my bones. Jeff told all we had been witnessing in Uganda. I listened to stories I had lived and re-lived so many times, wondering if anybody would ever EMBRACE this ministry as we had. Share the passion with us.

I couldn't read Jack's mind. He was thoughtful. He used few words and made no promises but said he would pray.

We hear that alot when we talk about the work here. "We will pray." Precious commitment. One we do not take for granted.

That day, at McDonalds, I learned several things:
1. Tootsie is the world's fastest ketchup packet opener---seriously!
2. Jack and Tootsie are Kylie's grandparents (long story)
3. When Jack says he will pray....he means it.

It was just a visit at McDonalds. But, oh, how it changed my world.

Prologue---Tyler

...My Uncle Tommy and Aunt Pat moved to Tyler when I was really young. I remember that we all thought it was very far away. I mean...it was EAST TEXAS for goodness sakes! :-)

We got Uncle Tommy's church bulletin every week. I read it, oddly enough. Alot of names that I didn't recognize usually...but I read Tommy's writings at the front then scanned the youth group news and announcements for my family's names...


Christmas 2001. We were in the States to raise money and search for a supporting congregation. We had just traveled for 3 weeks, across the United States, making contact with all the congregations that had supported us in the past. We were warmly received each time. But, over and over, we were told "no" to our request for oversight.

I was newly pregnant (SURPRISE!) and very sick. It had been a long journey.

I was home for Christmas and the whole family was together. It was great.

As the festivities ended and our family prepared to return to their homes, Uncle Tommy gave Jeff an email contact.

Jack. Missions Committee chairman.

Tommy said it was worth a try. He said that Glenwood was a wonderful place and that the church loved missionaries.

Over the next few weeks, we sent requests and information to several different churches. There were no immediate responses....so we began to wait....