Precious Memories

It seems like a long time since I’ve sat down to write something for the blog - although there’s been a hundred times that I’ve had something polished up and ready in my head.  It’s easy to get caught up in the everyday and the pen never hits the paper…

A few weeks ago now, unbeknownst to me, little, sticky fingers typed in YouTube videos on the laptop and then in a rush for bedtime, I set it down on the countertop in the kitchen without thinking twice.  By the next morning, millions of near-microscopic ants had invaded it!  They were in the DVD slot, crawling through the keyboard and “GASP!” in the hard-drive.

Over the next couple of days, as my hard-drive slowly failed, we panicked mostly about the photos that would be lost.  Thankfully, someone was able to remove it and transfer them off before they were lost forever.  But looking back through our memories and experiences from the last few years made me stop and think that sometimes, memories are best when they’re shared.  So here are a few of ours, in words and in (very precious) photos:

Matt comes home every night hot, tired, dirty - and full of excitement for the people he's met, flown and the amazing stories of the work they're doing.  I love that he loves his job, and the excitement of imagining how many people can be impacted by one flight.

The neighbourhood kids have become like part of the family and there is hardly a day when we don't see a collection of them arrive at the gate for some fun.  When I look through nearly 4 years of photos, its fun to see how they've grown and changed, and how we've come to love them like our own.  Our house is a revolving door of good-natured chaos, and we wouldn't have it any other way.

Life in MAF, and in Kampala, is always an adventure.  We think up fun things for the kids to do - slip and slide on a old airline banner, costume parties, Canadian Thanksgiving dinner.  We've had fun creating versions of our own traditions, and learning about other peoples', too.  Every time we leave the gate, I'm never sure what to expect and it's exciting to figure things out and explore as the day goes on. Also, the goat in the photo below, travelled to school on a tarp in the trunk of my van, along with 6 rabbits!  Like I said, always an adventure :)

This year, Levi has come into our home and all of our hearts have grown at least 3 extra sizes!  He's sweet, happy, and has us all wrapped around his chubby little fist.

I don't always realise how far we've come in these years.  From so, so homesick to feeling completely at home.  It's makes my heart ache, in a good way, to look at these little faces. Theo the imp, Fred the brave and Charlee the baby snuggler.  I can't wait to look back over many more years with them and continually be so proud of who they are all becoming.

And finally there's me.  Looking back through, I don't make an appearance in too many of these shots.  But I'm always there, in the background, behind the camera or making sure things are running smoothly and everyone is loved and taken care of - from family to friends, visitors and more.  Our house and hearts are full of precious memories, and whether the actual photos are lost or not, we carry them with us and nothing - not even an invasion of ants - can take that away!

Watoto Village

Last week, I had the opportunity to fly a charter for Watoto staff from various offices from around the globe. By visiting the programmes, these staff members get to see first hand the work Watoto is doing throughout Uganda. We landed in Gulu, in the North - the heart of where the Joseph Kony’s LRA operated just over 10 years ago. I had been hoping they would invite me along to tour the facilities, and was very happy when they did!  Watoto might sound familiar to you - as they have the children’s choirs who come through our home towns in the western world often, but the wider work they’re doing in Uganda is absolutely incredible!

Our first stop of the day was at the ladies’ vocational training and craft school.  Here they train girls in sewing, craft making and other skills that help in day to day living and to be able to find gainful employment later on.  Here, they make many of the crafts that the children’s Choir sell during their tours, and the funds then get put back into Watoto programmes. Through the craft school, they also run personal health and well being workshops for the local women. 

Next we went to the baby orphanage or “Baby Watoto”. Currently, there are 87 orphaned and abandoned babies and toddlers living here. The ratio of caregivers to babies is 4 to 1, and when a new orphan arrives they are held for 48 hours straight by their assigned staff member in order to reassure them of the great love for them in this place. They are even set up to house 4 NICU babies, with incubators on the premises.  

At around 4 years of age, the children are then moved out to the Watoto Village, a large, safe compound, where they’re placed into family units - with a house mother and house siblings all living together and growing as a family.  They attend school and church in the village, and there is a staffed clinic and playgrounds on site. Through a program called “Father’s Heart”, men from the Watoto church commit themselves to becoming father figures and positive male role models to one specific Watoto home. They visit whenever they can to help the children with their homework, play with the younger ones and to disciple the older boys.   These kids are able to have a brand new start to life, and live with a sense of community and family - a place where they all can call home.

The area where the village is located was once a strong hold of the Lord’s Resistance Army and a notorious torture ground. During the excavation for the building foundations in the village, dozens of human remains were unearthed. Even with such a dark past, this land was so full of hope, overcoming and love - I really felt God’s presence everywhere we went.  It was an amazing testimony of how God can work all things together for good, and His Glory.

Our Spring Newsletter!

Looking Up

I walk lots of places.  To the office, to the fruit and vegetable market, the corner store to buy milk or to hunt down the mango man.  I really love going places…  saying “hi” to the people I pass, joking with the shop keepers and answering the endless questions of “Where’s the girl today?!”  But what I do most of all when I’m on my way somewhere is watch the road.  Not in a look-both-ways-before-you-cross-the-street kinda way (although that is pretty important, too!) but more like I stare directly at my feet, or right in front of them to closely watch the path ahead.

The main roads in Kampala are paved but most of the ones surrounding our house and neighbourhood are not.  They’re washed out from heavy rains and big holes pop up and get filled with rubble, broken bricks and other things that in an attempt to make the road smoother actually end up making it slightly more treacherous.  And there is garbage.  One old shoe and bottles, broken glass and wrappers, other gifts left there by stray dogs.  Things I definitely don’t want overlapping from the street onto my flip flopped feet.

So I look down and pick my way along, sometimes (I hate to admit) grumbling about the route I’m on or the obstacles in my way.  I go slowly and surely to where I’m headed only seeing dust and garbage.  It’s not a pretty sight.

Today, on my way home I went up a steep hill, watching one foot land in front of the other and when I got to the top, I looked up.

And it was amazing.

The same spot where I had stood to watch the fireworks on New Years Eve is equally as spectacular when illuminated by sunlight.  The city, the hills.  I was a good reminder to me that even when the road is bumpy, I need to stop and take a breath, and look up.

There is definitely more in front of me than what is under my feet.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains - where does my help come from?  My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip - he who watches over you will not slumber.  Psalm 121:1-3

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!