“You have returned in a time of blessing!” was one welcome I received. Harvest is only a few weeks away. Another proceeded to give me a list of trials that I had missed in their life while we were gone. Another told me proudly that
I am no stranger to tearsThey travel with me across the oceansFrom home to home and back againThey honor what is gained, and lostThey are a gift I giveTo a bleeding, healing churchTo a friend who lost a father and a living sisterTo another who
Oloto kaapei! Let’s go together! Neni kai ka Akuj! To the house of the Lord! Oloto kaapei! Let’s go together! This past weekend, the mission hosted its first women’s conference! As with any event, you never know how it will go until it has gone.
It costs nothing to do an easy thing. That which costs nothing, is also worth nothing. I’ve contemplated this truth many times during our term in Uganda. I’ve considered it when the ministry seemed to languish or sin reared its ugly head. I’ve considered it when
I should have waited before publishing my last post! The very next Sunday we had the pleasure of hearing a message from one of the younger men being discipled by the mission, Louse John Bosco. The topic of his sermon was living a holy life,
When Olive was born, she had no home. Uganda would not claim her, even though she was born on her soil. The US would not acknowledge her, even though both her parents are US citizens. We had to collect forms and paperwork and then submit
Olive Andromeda, born August 16 at 7:40am, 3.5 kg But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God;I trust in God’s unfailing love for ever and ever.–Psalm 52:8 The realities of our life recently have felt quite surreal, like we’re plagiarizing from the
Lord, why have we found such favor in your eyes? In the swirling dust following the recent tumultuous community meeting, we have been reminded that the loudest voices are not always the majority or the most true. We received texts, phone calls, even visits from
The humid, still heat presses down upon the earth taunting the parched fields. Thunder sounds high above. Clouds roll and gather all around us, heavy with empty promise, like a bud that never blooms or a pregnant woman who never gives birth. A weeklong deluge
The days skitter along on feet of their own, driven by the needs of each. June has reached and I’m still acclimatizing myself to the idea of 2021. So many plans begun, half-baked and left to the unknown, now picked up again and only in