Be Strong and Courageous

Be strong and courageous.  Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.  Joshua 1:9

These past months have been really difficult for us and while there are lots of reasons why we won’t share details, we also don’t want to pretend that everything has been good. I know lots of you pray for us here, and I think that sometimes a real update is important, even if some stuff is left out of it.  

I’ve sat so many times to write this all down, but each time I snap my journal or laptop shut, unhappy with the way it came out.  I wasn’t ready yet… I wanted to be able to tell you a victory story; one that talks about God’s compassion and grace, and although lots of times we were overcome with sadness, loneliness and anger - I am confident that there has been purpose in everything that has happened. We have walked through it, hand-in-hand, while being held up by something far greater than either of us could have ever imagined.

It happened months ago now.  The phone call from nowhere.  The worry.  I prayed and put our monkeys to bed like nothing was wrong. I kissed them all a little bit more as I tucked them in that night and then I sat, and I waited until word came that he was on the way home.  

The first days were too quiet.  I tried to keep the kids busy, and Matt had things he had to do.  We didn’t sleep and he didn’t talk much, I worried lots. We sat at the kitchen table, saying nothing and wondering what was going to happen next.

Only now can I say that we see the end.  We’re here, shaken but still standing.  A team.  Tonight, we’ll dust the sand off of the sandals of 2017 and step into 2018 and whatever it has in store for us, together. And although it still can be hard for me to find God in all of this, sometimes I get a glimpse into how perfect His schedule really is and that amazes me.  God’s faithfulness in the small things this year has helped me see it in the larger ones, too.  

In September, the timing of Fred’s elbow dislocation and misread x-rays lead to me to be having a coffee with a pilot’s wife, who also happened to be a radiology technician from the Netherlands.  She spotted the break and the bone fragment in the elbow joint weeks after doctors here had missed it, which put the wheels in motion for the rest.  And instead of having to go to South Africa for surgery, we were put in touch through a friend with a visiting surgeon from America - the head of Orthopaedics at the Children’s Hospital of LA - who squeezed in Fred’s surgery and nerve repair here in Uganda before flying back to the States that very night.  Even my super organized self couldn’t have put those pieces together in such a detailed way.  

This past summer, He gave me kind and caring people in airports all over the world - people who took an interest in the kids and I travelling alone (and at times stranded!) between here and Canada.  Strangers who chatted and played with the kids while I waited in long re-booking lines and who sang silly songs for Charlee when she was overwhelmed by crowds and uncertainty.  Because of these people, our travel, despite cancellations, reroutings and setbacks went very smoothly.  

Charlee was kept safe during a seizure at school by amazing teachers and we were given contacts for a paediatric neurologist here in Kampala who was able to check her over well and change her medication to one that has had far less side effects.

He’s given me friends, who at one panicked phone call ran over and helped me search for over an hour for a missing Theo, calling his name up and down the streets and then staying afterwards to help me calm my shattered nerves once he was found safe.  

He’s given us glimpses throughout this difficult year of His faithfulness to us. He’s given us a wonderful family and beautiful, thriving children who brighten our days and give us real joy.  He’s kept us here, and safe, and together.  I am so thankful, I could not ask for anything more than that.

All of this has shown us how God has been hidden in these hard things.  And no matter how alone we’ve felt, how many times we’ve wanted to give up, God has not left us.  We’ve never been alone. He’s been here the whole time, and we’ve seen it in so many circumstances that have unfolded while this bigger scenario moves on around us.  

God is taking care of us. This is our victory story. If He’s in the smaller stuff, He is so definitely in the bigger stuff, too; even though I can't always see how when we are in the midst of the turmoil.  Tonight, when the fireworks end and a cheer goes up over Kampala at midnight, I will be thankful for the hardships of this past year and the character they’ve created in us, and I will be hopeful for the joy coming in 2018.

A very Happy New Year with love from Uganda,

Chaundra & Matt

Kids Prayers and Christmas Miracles

Two nights ago Neeta, our black dog squeezed herself out through a hole in our garden wall.  When we woke up in the morning, Fred realized she was missing and we started looking for her everywhere.  He knocked on gates, we called her up and down the road, we asked at the boda-boda stage and Fred even got a ride with with one of the other pilots here around Makindye all morning yesterday, calling her out the car windows and checking in at the police station.  But still no one had seen Neeta.  

I feared the worst, honestly…  and Fred and I prayed last night before bed that she would be safe and found and hopefully not too scared.  But then this morning, still no dog.  I gave up hope.

At 10:30 am my phone rang.  A friend of ours had told another lady about the missing dog, and she in turn was asking at the food stands on her way in to work.  And then all of a sudden, one of the guys selling chapatis said, “Yes! We’ve seen a black dog, but it’s fallen waaaaaay down into a hole!”

Fred ran down the road to confirm it was actually her, and by the time I arrived the entire scene had drawn a huge crowd.  After finding torches, ropes and ladders (and confirming it  was actually our dog down in this 30 foot deep sewage-filled pit!) a squabble broke out about who would go down in the hole to try and get the dog out - as everyone figured their actions would be rewarded in the end.  But then, a friend (and MAF wife who’s ladder we had borrowed) said, “That’s enough! I’m going in!” and down she went (into a pit I imagined was full of snakes and other unmentionable things) with a hammock to wrap around the dog.  She was able to reach down into the thigh deep sludge and get the rope around the dog and we all pulled her up together using a tow rope.  The whole thing was kind of surreal and ridiculous and only the kind of situation that (of course) some part of our family would be involved in.  It was like an episode of Rescue 9-1-1.

But Neeta is home!  Her puppies are happy to see her, and we’re happy to have her back.  She seems tired out (and a bit smelly, even after a bath) but she’ll be ok - the kids are so happy!  I have to admit, oh-Me-of-little-faith gave up hope when there was no sign of her yesterday…  But there were kids praying non-stop for their lost dog out on the Makindye hill somewhere, and God hears the prayers, and sees that faith of these little children…  I’m so happy that God answers prayers!

  

Our Winter Newsletter

A little bit about what's been going on around here :)  And a HUGE Merry Christmas from us!

And a cockroach in a Christmas tree..

I was driving home in the rain today, after trying my 3rd ATM unsuccessfully because of a widespread power outage caused by a rainstorm overnight and most of this morning.  Coming up over the hill I met a group of boys running wildly towards me, screaming and shouting in panic.  What on earth, I thought!?  But then three stray dogs rounded corner with their teeth bared behind them at full speed and trying to think quick I started honking like a wild woman and driving towards the dogs.  They gave up pretty quickly and turned around, but the boys never stopped to check.  I can imagine they’re still running all the way home!

That little pit stop made me stop and think of all the things I encounter every day and never think twice about.  The things that are so routine for us now, but might entertain you a little bit on this rainy afternoon :)

Last Sunday afternoon, just after Matt had arrived home from the airport, the kids (well, and me too) convinced him to drag the Christmas tree down from the shed and as we set it up in the middle of the living room, it kind of started to move!  I was screaming, Fred was screaming and the giant cockroaches were leaping out of it and all over the floor before taking off in every direction!  Theo grabbed the can of Doom spray and started after them while Matt took the tree in segments out side and gave it a good shake and spray down..  That still didn’t stop me from finding some critters in it while I was putting up the lights… It’s cockroach free now, but honestly…  I’m a little bit weary every time I get close to it.  Maybe best to admire it from afar this year!

It thinks it's being sneaky by freezing when we locked eyes, but I saw it twitching it's antennae at me...

I encounter stuff every. single. day that makes absolutely no sense to me…  but I love it!  It’s a great story to tell, and no one ever believes that my power pole could catch fire, or I’d end up chopping off puppies’ umbilical cords with a kitchen knife, that Matt would get up in the night to check something and step on a dead, headless snake.  I never believed I’d get bitten by a homeless man or end up in a fender bender with the mayor.  But it’s true.  It happens, and no one blinks an eye.  There’s a popular saying here, “You don’t ask "why" questions in Africa” and I can see how that makes sense.  But the why questions are what challenge my way of thinking and my way of looking at things, and the things I see and the people I meet are what make life so interesting (and amazing!) here.

The puppies that I delivered over the course of 26 hours with the help of one of our teammates and a kitchen knife!

You often see lots of weird things on the backs of Bodas, but this was a first for me.

Our Fall Newsletter!

Our Summer Newsletter - Canada here we come!

Who let the dogs out?

Once upon a time, in our early days in Uganda, we went for a drive.  We wanted to get the feel of Kampala, learn the routes to major hospitals (in case of a seizure) and get comfortable with the roads and surroundings.  Charlee, amazed by the cows, boda-bodas, and general different-ness of everything she was seeing from the window, shouted, “WHAT MOVIE IS THIS!?” from the backseat. Since then, I’m sure there has been something almost every day that causes me to have the same exact thought. 

Somedays, life feels like a drama.  There are tears before school, sleepless nights, long days…  Somedays, its a tear jerker.  Its easy to be overwhelmed by things - situations that don’t change, despite trying and trying to help, little people that need fed and the general feeling that I was born into an easier life, one that gave me lots of privileges and first world problems, and it doesn't seem fair.  

Lots of days it’s a semi-cheesy, lovey-dovey made for TV movie.   But more often then not, life feels more like some sort of over the top, out of this world comedy.  

I love Uganda.  I love the people and the friendliness, the constant movement, the overall brightness of life here.  But over the last 3 years, my brain has been altered to expect the unexpected, and sometimes God knows that’s exactly what I need to lighten up a dreary day.

This morning started like every other..  pack lunches, dress kids, walk them up to the petrol station at the end of the road to catch their ride to school.  Theo and I made our way back home, checking out different beetles and ripe avocados we found along the way home.  We play soccer in the driveway, until someone knocks on the gate.  

Here’s where the unexpected comes into play.  I open the gate, and find Alberto, a local “door-to-door salesman” standing there (not unexpected).  The unexpected part is that there were about 15 chickens on the road behind him.

Cue the dogs.  They run at full tilt into the street, herding chickens this way and that, barking insanely.  Theo and I are running haphazardly behind them, trying to catch dogs, while they try to catch chickens.  At that point, people walking on the road start screaming over my shouts of the dogs names, as the dogs - looking as mad as possible - run in circles around the strangers.  Finally, somehow, the chickens, dogs and Theo all run through my gate and I’m able to lock ALL of them inside!  

The culprits, none the worse for wear after this morning.

Now there is a tornado of chaos around my house.  Every once in a while, a dog gets close enough to pluck a mouth full of feathers from a chicken’s behind and spit it onto the concrete.  I’m still running around like crazy, catching a screaming hen (can they even scream?) every once in a while and banishing it back to the street.  

Finally, with only one - now mostly bald and traumatized - chicken left, the dogs caught it and pinned it to the ground.  GREAT!  I thought.  I can get them… sneaking up from behind, I grabbed each by the collar while they fought tooth and nail to get away from me.  I had to almost drag them to the guard house where I could lock them in while I saved the last pitiful piece of poultry….  but what I didn’t factor in was that in that our wrestling match while holding collars must have cut off the airway of the big dog…  and she passed out.  Mass panic ensues again, as I’m sure I’ve just accidentally killed the dog.  What will the kids say!?  What have I done!? 

Thankfully after only seconds, she snapped back to life, vomited on the ground and the small dog stepped in to clean up the mess :(  I locked them up, called over the wall to our neighbour for help, and help arrived!  Together, with Theo - who was now carrying a small pipe (where did he get a pipe from!?) - we caught the semi-hairless chicken and released it back to the wild of Makindye hill while a pound of feathers blew serenely across my yard.

Unexpected, yes.  Out of the ordinary, no, not really.  I’m so thankful for this life - the good, the bad, and even the crazy.  Because it’s in the aftermath that we can really sit down and laugh…  tears running down our faces and the bright side of all this crazy can cheer us up during a dreary, weary, seemingly never ending month of May.  

  

The evidence is still blowing around the driveway.

Here's what we've been up to - Our Spring Newsletter

The Hunt (and we're not talking the Easter Egg kind)

The events of this past month have been hard.  Really hard, and the tension is still running pretty high around here.  The final straw in this series of very unfortunate events leading to my mega melt-down happened this past Thursday.  

I lost Theo.  And not just for a minute, either.  For almost an hour.

The kids are on Easter break, we were invited out to dinner at a friend’s and I needed a couple of things to make a cake to take with us.  I dressed the kids, did the tooth brushing regime and sent them out to get their shoes on while I quickly brushed my own and hunted down my wallet.  5 minutes later, I’m standing in the middle of the compound with two children with shoes on, one missing.  

Fred and I searched the house, calling “Theo!” in every room.  We offered sweets if he would come out.  We dug out suitcases from under beds, searched closets, cupboards, drawers.  

After 20 minutes, the panic set in.  We checked the oven, the fridge, the washing machine.  I scaled the water tower to make sure he hadn’t wiggled his way up there and fallen over the wall.  I climbed under the car and checked up inside of it. We checked the pit-latrine at the back of the property, praying he hadn’t fallen in.  Still no Theo.  

30 minutes. Full fledged panic.  No Theo.  No noise, no movement…. nothing. 

I called a couple of friends from our team here - Guys!  Theo is missing… I can’t find him anywhere.  I cried into the phone.  He must be here, he can’t get out of the compound.  They came, we searched again…  and Charlee drops the bombshell.  She says she let him out of the gate.

Fred was off like a shot - running full speed down to the boys house to check if he had gone there to play.  The construction workers across the road all confirm that yes, the baby did go up towards the main road.  The girls run, calling his name and Charlee is crying now, “I miss him so much!”.

We called the office manager from our Makindye office and she got in touch with the LC, who started to mobilize a search party on the hill.  45 minutes have passed.

Everyone was out looking for Theo, and I stayed at the house with Charlee just in case he came back.  Minutes felt like eternity.

And then…  from down the hall there’s a thump, just barely audible.  And I find him buried in a pile of laundry in the closet.  

Until that very moment, I have never felt such anger and joy at the same time.  I also don’t think I really knew the full toll this month has taken on me…  on all of us at the house.  Fred said afterwards, “This was the scariest day of my life”, and I would agree..  along with the long list of other scariest days, Theo’s disappearing act, Charlee on life support, and another one, that’s also not so far in the past yet. These are big sadnesses that sometimes I think will never pass.  

It took a 3 year old hiding on me to bring me to my knees.  In the midst of one of the most intense months of my ‘adult’ life; of stress and waiting and unknown and fear, Theo’s stunt got me to pray.  Like, really pray and be thankful that we’re here, together and all are OK. 

Now Easter weekend has me thinking, that all sad stories can have Happy Endings.  And even when you think that a Happy Ending isn’t possible, it can rise up from the dead and be better than anything you ever thought possible.  And that is something that I’m willing to wait for.

Happy Easter from Matt, me and these crazy kiddos!

Chaundra

The Mango Tree

We live in a concrete jungle.  The driveway is hot, and sometimes it burns my feet as I trot across the paving stones to open the gate when the kids get home from school in the afternoons.  We’ve put in lots of flowers, and I even grew some bougainvillea over my little coffee corner…  but my shady solution for the mid-afternoon basketball game heat and dinky car races along the garden’s edge was a mango tree.

I bought it the first week we were living here, from a lady selling plants along the side of the road.  We put it in a clay pot because it was so small and sad looking, but within months it sprouted to life and found it’s home in the front garden.  I tied it to a pole to keep the dogs away and trained it to grow out to drop some shade onto the pavement.  And it grew.  And grew.  And grew…  and I love it :)

Our mango tree, still in it's pot (far right)

But after a crazy storm one night that filled our bedroom (and my face!) with water while we slept, the landlord came for a visit and she saw my beautiful, little mango tree standing outside the window.  

My view from the "coffee corner" of the kids playing football one afternoon in the driveway
(mango tree, far right)

Now she says it has to go.  It has deep roots, and it will ruin the foundation.  

There have been so many things I’ve loved in life that haven't been good for me, and giving up those things up always really hurts.   Even when I know in my heart it’s time to let go, it is still hard.  Over the next few weeks I’m going to give up more still - but I can trust that there’s a bigger plan - and something better will come out of it.  

Because the foundation is important…  and in the long run it is for the best.  Because those roots run deep, and the foundation is far more important than the mango tree.

The Big 3-5!

You know what - I like getting old.  

At the risk of sounding cheesy, it is actually kinda cool.  

I love having the chance to see my kids get big - every year they are so different…  Smart and funny and more than just a little bit crazy.  Fred’s nose is in a book, Charlee is playing babies, and Theo is well…  I’m not sure what Theo is up to, but he is suspiciously quiet and that is never a good sign.

I love watching my husband’s hair get a little bit greyer as time passes (well, ok mine, too!) It makes me so incredibly happy to see how far we’ve come from these two young “adults” who thought we had it all together, barely scraping by and loving the adventure of it.  We haven’t outgrown our adventures - and I hope we have millions more together.  

I’m glad that I still don’t feel like an  ‘adult’, even now with kids, and houses and…  sigh…  responsibilities…  Sometimes I wonder who thought it would be a good idea to leave me in charge of all these important things :)

Yesterday, I turned 35.  15 years ago - heck, even 5 years ago - I never would have guessed I would be here.  But sitting in Uganda on my 35th birthday, I felt really, really blessed.  Matt has been in South Sudan and out of contact since Saturday on a charter - and I really missed him - but the kids and I made the best of it and we enjoyed every minute.  We had a special coffee delivery at the gate in the morning, a dance party, and after church sodas with Bugs Bunny cartoons while it rained.  We had dinner at a friend’s house and happy birthday wishes from all over the world.  

Last night, I said “I lived quite a life before this,” but what I should have really said is, “I am living quite a life!”  It’s full, and I’m loved, and my hopefully not-too-many wrinkles tell an amazing story.  

Old is awesome.