Singing in church

I miss worshiping in church in Uganda!! In Soroti, when we sing "I will clap Hosanna"- we actually clap. When the song contains the words shout- you shout! When the leader begins waving- well, you get the idea. They have a song that is roughly translated "I'm going to the promised land". I have seen the women get up, tie on their babies, pick up the mat they were sitting on, put their bibles on their heads and dance their way out of the church because they are ready to go to the promised land!  The first time I heard it, it had not yet been translated and I thought church was over and we were all headed home.
This week in church we sang and no one clapped or even twitched.  I even had to look around to see if others were singing. We weren't standing and some were just sitting without even moving their lips.  Did anyone mean what they were listening to?!? We were in God's house but one wouldn't necessarily know it by  looking at us.  So, the good news is that I don't really care (as much) what others are thinking of me. I worship corporately to honor my Lord. I'm going to sing and put my hands up and clap and possibly even dance. For those of you that also attend Remembrance I considered apologizing to you. But I'm not really sorry. I want my Savior to be honored by what I'm singing on Sunday morning.

Catching up

Time to blog again…. it still strikes me as strange how many of you say you read my mental wanderings…. it makes me recommit to keeping this current and at least attempting to keep it relevant.

I have really enjoyed seeing so many of you guys over the last week. I love catching up with you but I find it makes me sad too because I realize how much I’m missing- friends having weddings and kids and struggles and major changes and just generally experiencing life and I don’t get to enjoy it with you. I find there have been many of you that we’ve met and hugged and caught up then we say "see you again in a few years". I know most of us have relationships like this and the only reason that these are different for me is that they are more…pronounced, maybe. We all have friends that we only cross paths ever few years and catch up then part ways again.

OK- I don’t know where I was going with that thought besides that I’m enjoying seeing all of you again.  Thanks for taking time out of your busy days to make me feel like I’m still…. well, still here. That I’m still part of your lives. 

Driving in on the right side of the road

Yikes! I drove within a day of being back in the states so one might think I would be used to street lights again by now and wouldn’t be constantly scanning for livestock on the sides of the roads. I never need to swerve painfully to avoid things and don’t have to drive for miles on the shoulder because it is better than the road. I haven't been pulled over by traffic cops looking for bribes and I never have the need to take my half of the road out of the center. And I've only been on the wrong side a few times. But driving here is proving to be tough. I  don't even know what to do!! There are no giant potholes. There is no livestock in the road. There are no potholes containing livestock. (I'm serious- there is a pothole near our house in Soroti that the pigs love to wallow in so it is something we need to watch for) There are practically no pedestrians here (and when there are they are strangly on a sidewalk far from the road) and practically no bikes (and when there are they have a huge wide shoulder.) If I'm not trying not to hit someone or not fall off the road or not run over a cow, what is there to do while driving?! 

Missionary Medical Intensive

*oops! this was supposed to be posted 11/4
I'm mentally overflowing with all of the lecture topics from the past two weeks.... I feel I could reasonably attempt a burn skin graft, extract abscessed teeth, replace a dislocated shoulder or recognize cholera before it became an epidemic, all in remote Karamoja with minimal medical supplies. (Of course I'm still praying that I don't need to do any of this stuff on anyone but at least I'm slightly more ready if the need arises.)

Some practice splinting. A skill I already enjoy using but more practice is always fun. 

Round table discussions? 

I knew how to do several of these IM, SQ and ID meds so  got be be on the receiving end ...

Izaac

This is my super cute nephew who knows me as “Aunt Jenny came on an airplane?” which he asks me often. He is the only 22 month old I know who speaks in complete sentences and I know I’m not biased at all when I say he is the smartest and cutest kid I’ve ever met. This is the hardest part of working on the mission field. I spent the last few days staying with my brother and sister on the way home from the medical training and my favorite part was hanging out with this nearly two year old. I’m going to be able to spend more time with them around the holidays but I still find myself already grieving and abhorring the thought of leaving again. 

Common sense vs. Faith

Our chaplain here, Barry, has more than 40 years of experience on the mission field and he has been telling us stories. One really jumped out at me yesterday and I want to retell it. In the early 1970’s he was in North Vietnam with his wife working at an orphanage. For those, like me, who don’t know their world history as well as we should, there was a war going on in North Vietnam at the time. This man and his wife were in an isolated place that was most easily reached by a 20 minute boat ride and they had to wait often for transport. Their mission director was there to visit when the Viet Cong came threateningly near. Their director returned back to the states and soon after sent $2,000 for them to purchase their own boat. Barry looked at the doctor and asked him what he knew about boats. “Nothing.” Me neither. So they prayed that God would show them which boat He wanted them to have. Then when it came time for Barry’s wife to give birth to their first child they headed into the city. Barry and the doctor took that opportunity to look for the boat they were going to buy so took a translator with them and headed down to the wharf. The first boat they came to was for sale! Barry sat down in the bow and the doctor sat down on the stern.  Barry knew right away that this was the boat they were supposed to purchase. The doctor expressed the same. Their translator interrupted them and reminded them that they didn’t need to purchase the first boat they saw. They should look around more. He told them there was a bigger boat down the dock a little that as also for sale. They went to see it and discussed that bigger would allow them to carry more supplies and people. They found out that it had a nice new motor. It was a really nice looking boat. And it was only $1,100 and they had two thousand to spend. Perfect! So they bought the boat. Barry went up to the hospital to collect his wife and newborn and happily told them they would be going back in their new boat. I’m going to cut out some of the story for the sake of length but picture Barry, his wife and newborn, the doctor and months’ worth of supplies headed out to sea having no idea what they were doing. Prayer finally brought them back to their home beach but a typhoon was coming.  They called the children from the orphanage down to the beach and all tried and tried to get the boat up above the tide line. After long struggles and to the point that the storm was so bad they had to get the children inside they still had not been successful. They only owned the boat one day before it was destroyed. The next time they went into the city the first boat they had seen was still for sale. It was $900 so with their remaining money they bought it. They saw that it was the biggest boat they could still successfully pull up the beach during storm season. Their common sense said bigger is better. But God said I told you which one you should have!