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.

From our family to yours - a great big MERRY CHRISTMAS

Our Fall Newsletter!

Our latest newsletter - enjoy!

Canada, here we come!

We are leaving Uganda this weekend for our first Home Assignment in Canada.  Please pray for safe (and sane) travels for us with the 3 kiddos, and for a great time catching up with you all back on Canadian soil!

Here's our latest newsletter - please have a ready and see where you can find us over the next few months.

Tim Horton's, here we come!  See you soon, Canada!

All the small things.

Today's wake up call happened at 4:22am, when little feet padded into my room and complained about a sore stomach.  Matt left in the dark yesterday morning, and spent the night in Mvolo, South Sudan with the group he flew up there, and I’m wondering how he’s making out now - a day later - while making breakfast (and second breakfast!) for the little people and making sure the South Sudanese pilot who we have staying in our guesthouse is also taken care of.  

Matt visiting the kids within the Adjumani refugee camp, where he helped fly in a group of counsellors for the people there.

The group from Empower One Ministries, who have helped to plant over 100 churches in South Sudan was flown back to Uganda to restock on supplies.

The plane is loaded with hundreds of kilos of medicines for Far Reaching Ministries, to be flown into Yida, South Sudan for the local community.

Sometimes, it is hard to be left behind.  The idea of the adventure, and the people, and the getting out there and doing makes my feet itch on the ground here in Kampala.  At points this year I’ve struggled to be content with the way things have worked out, there have been some big disappointments - almost 2 seizure free years for Charlee coming to an abrupt end, having one of the sweetest little girls from our special needs support group pass away, and some other silly small things that, some days, can still weigh heavy on my heart.  

But even as I’ve been writing this, the pilot from our guesthouse has arrived back from visiting his 2 year old son’s grave, and I see, not for the first time, that things could be much, much worse.

The grass is pretty green right here. We’re happy, we’re healthy, we have a nice, little house.  It doesn’t have a view, but I like what I see just fine :)  I see Matt off to work every morning, mostly before daylight.  Some weeks he flies over 100 passengers to different places, helping them to reach people who need medical evacuations, trauma counselling, and infrastructure development.  He comes back tired, dirty and happy.  

I drive the kids (mine and others) to school and am waiting to hear about their days when they get home.  I cheer at swim competitions and school performances.  I play trucks with Theo, chit chat with strangers on the road, and welcome neighbourhood boys into our yard to play and have a good snack.

Over the last year, we’ve welcomed more than 50 visitors to MAF Uganda to stay in our home, hosted what feels like hundreds of meals (and enjoyed every one of them!), helped out with getting a few treats and essentials from here to Juba, and made lots of new friends.  The special needs programme at Lugogo Baptist church has grown into something so much bigger, with kids getting the help and therapies they need and their mamas getting supported in their struggles.

All these small things add up to something bigger than me.  I might not be on the front lines but I try to help hold things together.  I’m here, I’m ready and I’m willing if and when my time comes, but until then, I’m happy to have snuggles at 4:22am and first breakfast a 5.  There are people here - in my house and in my life - that need me, I don’t need to go any further.  The small things are enough.

He has shown you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you
But to do justly,
To love mercy,
And to walk humbly with your God? Micah 6:8

The Tribe

Being a parent to a special needs daughter is, well, special.  I would have never chosen this for my family - or for Charlee - but now that’s it’s here, I would not un-choose it either.  

Days can be hilarious, or hard, or humbling… I rejoice over the small things (dressing herself is fun, yet ‘make-a-huge-mess’ new skill!) or get upset at the comments people feel at liberty to speak, just because she’s not your average almost-7-year-old… but mostly our days are filled with joy.  I’m convinced that more joy passes through her heart in an instant than some of us experience all year.

I had a meeting with her teacher this week.  And although its become easier over the years to hear that she’s / missed milestones / developmentally delayed / failed to achieve most of her school goals / she is a valued member of the class and is making good friends.  In fact, Mrs. Brown told me that Charlee has found her tribe.

Her tribe - I love this.  

These kids!  They love her, include her and save her a piece of cake from their sister’s birthday party… They make sure she’s OK when she falls, or is upset, and she absolutely adores them.  They are her warriors, standing up for her when she needs it, are forgiving when she is wrong and most importantly, they let her be Charlee.  

This band of little people has made me realize we’ve had a tribe all along.  She has brothers who cheer for her small victories.  She has aunties, cousins and grandparents who have held our hands, and just been there since the beginning.  Friends have been like family, done emergency runs and sat in hospital beds with us. We’ve had some of the most amazing teachers, assistants and kind little girls who help take off her rubber boots at school.  

Therapists, doctors and Special Olympics volunteers have gone way above and beyond - and people who take the time to get to know her, listen, and answer her questions (Dogs? Babies? Cake?!) can see that she has some real joy to spread.  She has Matt and I, who think she’s incredible no matter what.  

The tribe.  

She’s taught us to be gracious, understanding and compassionate. She’s taught me that anyone can be a warrior, if they need to be.  And most importantly, she’s shown us that everyone has something real to offer.  Charlee’s disabilities don't limit her - they make her perfect - just the way God intended her to be.

Thank you guys, for being her people.

“For you created my inmost being;

    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

    your works are wonderful,

    I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you

    when I was made in the secret place,

    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw my unformed body;

    all the days ordained for me were written in your book

    before one of them came to be.” Psalm 119:13/16

Our Winter Newsletter 2016!