A few weeks ago I called the husband of a friend who had just had a baby. I wanted to ask if we could come visit the following morning. Before I could ask about the visit, he casually told me in Karimojong that he was
I have been pondering the privilege of being present in this place at this time. The Bible does not tire of the analogy of the world as a field. Pictures of soils, seeds, vineyards, thorns, vermin and harvest abound. Many a missionary has termed their
We made it. We made it through the final goodbyes, the airport send -off, the dentist appointments, immunizations, Kampala craziness, too much sugar, and the trip home with me behind the wheel. The Folkerts family flew back to Canada on Sunday night. There were real
The Easter lilies have bloomed; the rains have returned; the oxen are in the fields plowing; white ants and wild greens and mushrooms are available. Everywhere we are surrounded by seasonal reminders of life renewed and refreshed. But the lilies and mushrooms spring up and
A generous reading of the blank spaces between postings on this blog would assume not only that life on the mission in Karamoja is very busy, but that it is too ineffable to be memorialised in such a space as this. Indeed, much (too much?)
The oracle concerning Dumah.One is calling from Seir,“Watchman, what time of the night?Watchman, what time of the night?”The watchman says:“Morning comes, and also the night. If you will inquire, inquire;Come back again.” Isaiah 21:11-12 In this war, there are no unaffected bystanders. It marches on,
Much has been said on this blog about the preëminent Karimojong political expression, the community meeting. Participating in such meetings is one of the more distasteful aspects of being a missionary in Karamoja, and the community has started to take note. Thus, I was recently
How much wood does it take to burn a human body? Our Advent sermon today was from Genesis 22, where God commands Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac, as a means of testing his faith. Of course we all know the story; it never changes
As I entered the compound, I noticed two cliques of women. I had come to see how the clinic staff were killing the day. Olive had already found her place with the teenager of a clinic worker. After the initial resistance, she was quite content
The Way We Do
The Bear, the Dove and the Lamb
The charges have been read against you, grievous indeed. Blood is on your hands. The case has been made by the prosecution with more…
Strange Weapons
We Christ-followers have strange weapons. They are not made of anything physical. They do not cut or jab or puncture. Where the weapons of…
Karimojong Politics
Much has been said on this blog about the preëminent Karimojong political expression, the community meeting. Participating in such meetings is one of the…
On Being a Missionary
On Being a Missionary – Chapter 8
A Palace, or a Mud Hut? We come to what is perhaps one of the discussions that Chloe and I are most apt to…
On Being a Missionary—Chapter 7
Kings, Cooks, Beggars, Saints Our last chapter was a bit theoretical on the inevitability of culture shock and how to overcome it. This chapter…
On Being a Missionary – Chapter 6
Culture Shock It’s the biggest catch-phrase of moving between continents. When Chloe and I first arrived back in San Diego, it was the first…