“Lord God, thank you for Margi going to hospital, for healing, for getting better…” This was how Carmel prayed for dinner last night. I sat there with bubbling emotions as she finished, thanking the Lord for play dates, food and her little sister. She did
Bees. Bees in the house, in the visitors’ luggage. Bees on the floor, in your hair and now in the new clinic building. Bees. They’re swarming and dying everywhere. Bees. I’m no bee keeper so I’ve been content thus far to wonder at their strange
I don’t get out much. I don’t own a vehicle here and public transport is questionable. The fastest most direct way to get places is on the back of a motorcycle. We are not yet letting our 11 month old and toddler ride those! When
Zion had just stopped crying when the phone rang. Christopher had just started softly snoring; I had to nudge him awake. The ring pealed through the night offending the preceding silence. It was Johnson, our on-call clinician at the clinic. There was an emergency, Christopher
“Do you know what lying is, Carmel?” Christopher asked our daughter one day when she was intentionally being allusive. “Rooooaaar!” was her response. We had to hide our laughs behind our hands, before beginning the proper explanation of this strain of sin. It comes so
“When you are not the parent, you love the sound of a baby crying. When you are the parent, it is hard to see that having a crying baby is a blessing from God”. This is the wisdom I received from a Ugandan friend, after
Thank you all for your prayers and care over the years! We can hardly believe that we’ve been serving in Karamoja for four years. Much has happened in that time. To mention a few, we’ve had two children, Christopher has changed hats two or three