Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.For his steadfast love endures foreverGive thanks to the God of godsFor his steadfast love endures foreverGive thanks to the Lord of lordsFor his steadfast love endures foreverPsalm 136:1-3 We are six months into corona in Uganda,
The cost of presence is absence. To want to be everywhere at once, is to want to be God. Yet in this nomadic life I often mourn my limitation to one place, one body. I have felt this price keenly since coming back from furlough
Last year, the harvest was good. I suspected that when it was happening, by the sheer number of drumbeat led, moonlight parties in the village. The number of marriages that took place within a short time after harvest, made me smile at people’s good fortune.
The threat of COVID is still here. Lockdown is in full swing. And masks are the new fashion statement. Some form of lockdown has been in place for the last eight weeks in Uganda. Church services have been cancelled including all gatherings with more than
In my feeble attempts to observe Lent this year I read (mostly) a devotional by Walter Brueggemann, A Way Other Than Our Own. It has short daily devotionals and prayers, just enough for a busy mother to be able to swallow each day. In one entry,
These are times we won’t forget. When President Museveni made the announcement last Wednesday that closed all schools for all ages across the country for a month due to COVID-19, I was standing in a grocery store watching it on their televisions for sale. A
“Our life is not willed by God to be an endless anxiety. It is, rather, meant to be an embrace, but that entails being caught by God.” – Walter Brueggemann Grief to grief. Night to night. Trial to temptation to failure to burden. This is
Days pass, the mountain of things untold grows, and yet it’s hard to know what to write! We’ve been back from furlough for nine months. We’ve written about people leaving the field and others joining us. We’ve told you of our trips to visit friends
I couldn’t sleep. I kept wondering what I would do if the boda (motorcycle taxi) I had arranged to pick me up before dawn didn’t show up. I woke up sure that my alarm was about to go off, but it was two hours away. Finally, I
Here is grace. For seven years, including two pregnancies many sleepless nights and busy days I was never diagnosed with malaria. Here is grace. I experienced my first case of malaria only a few days after being treated for another disease which I had avoided
As change continues to be the constant in missionary life, we’ve been rolling with the waves since arriving back in Uganda on May 1. Our first month was often punctuated by trips to Mbale to help our sister station there (for updates visit our friend’s