Pneumonia.
I got some Kenyan coffee.
My daughter got a t-shirt.
My husband got pneumonia.
Talk about a souvenir. Thankfully, with the miracle of antibiotics, he's already feeling a little better. But it stinks that he's been in our house for 4 days, but not really gotten home yet.
Thanks to all of you who have been praying for my husband on his trip to Sudan. He made it in safe and sound last night. Unfortunately, he began feeling extremely ill on his last flight, and spent the better part of today in bed. I think his fever broke sometime this evening, and he's feeling a little better. Tomorrow will tell if we need a trip to the doctor. Once he gets to feeling better, I'll post some of his stories. For now, I'm just hoping he's not contagious...that'd be one heck of a souvenir...
Thanks so much to everyone who has been praying for my husband. He should be on a plane, as I type, headed to Kenya and then on home the following day.
The group had a wonderful trip, and as expected witnessed many amazing things. When I spoke to him briefly today, he sounded energized and very hopeful. The area itself has been fairly tough. According to an update from the trip leader, the area contends with "rampant drunkeness on an incredible scale. And we’re not talking about having a few beers, I’m talking Sorghum moonshine that makes a crazy, eyes roll back in your head drunk." Additionally the team has faced a strong resistance the Gospel, and did a lot of prayer walking and praying over the sick.
Many more stories and updates to come. Thanks again for your prayers; they have definitely been felt.
About two years ago, the movie The Man (starring Samuel Jackson and Eugene Levy) hit movie theaters with underwhelming success. True, it left much to be desired, and had I seen it in the theater I might have been disappointed I couldn’t get that money or time back. Admittedly, however, I found the interaction between over-talkative, naive fuddy-duddy salesman (Levy) and cool, but angry under-cover agent (Jackson) mildly amusing...even to the point of a few bursts of laughter out loud. One scene in particular remains lodged in my mind. Jackson commits some sort of questionable act or crime (I don’t remember) and tells Levy to get into the car. Before Levy gets into the car he looks at Jackson and slowly and deliberately blinks both eyes at the same time. Then he tells Jackson, “I’m taking a mental snapshot of you.”
I think about that scene periodically because sometimes I wish I could take real pictures I could keep forever from the perspective of my eyes. I don’t trust my brain to remember all of those shots in as clear details as my camera captures. Shots like my daughter as a baby sleeping peacefully on my shoulder. You could never get the camera angle and distance just right to see it from my perspective. Or when we look at each other nose to nose and she cups my face in her little hands.
So I do take those mental snapshots and do my best to remember them with the highest resolution possible. I thought of this scene again, as I walked around last week taking mental snapshots of my husband before he left on his trip.
Playing in the yard with my daughter. Snap.
Asleep in bed next to me, snoring ever so slightly. Snap.
Coming in the door from work. Snap.
I’ve never been nervous about him going anywhere - not even Africa. And I wasn’t about this trip, either, until a friend asked him (out of curiosity) if we had had a discussion about the “what if.” I don’t think I was naive in not having thought something could possibly go wrong. I certainly recognize it could. In my mind, though, I knew something could happen on his way to work just as easily (and probably more likely) as it could on this trip. Sure, Sudan isn’t the safest place in the world...but neither is New York City. And Sudan and Africa in general are not unknowns to me; I’ve been there. But the question planted a small seed of doubt in my mind, and for the first time I felt a little nervous.
At first, I didn’t even realize that I was taking those snapshots “in case.” I don’t really think anything dangerous is going to happen, but in the back of my mind is that seed of worry. I’m thankful that it’s there because it gives me a deeper understanding and connection with those (like our parents) who are openly anxious about his safety. My prayer is that he comes home healthy and safely, with many stories to tell about the exciting things he has witnessed God doing. Ultimately, though, my prayer is that God’s will is done through his going there, and that his sacrifice to go - however great it might be - will bring glory and honor to the One who sent him.
My husband leaves for Sudan tomorrow for a couple weeks. If you think of him during your day, we'd appreciate your prayers!
And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven…” Matthew 18:3-4
During our trip to Africa, we visited a slum area in a village outside of Mbale-town. The main trade (and vice) of this area was a grain alcohol made from fermented corn. We met a small congregation inside the area who offered hope to their community. Many of the women participated in a Woman’s Enterprise project in which they learned how to form small businesses to sustain their families. The church was growing and truly beginning to make a difference in their small community.
But the amazing story behind the church left me awed at the mysterious way God works. As we sat and listened to testimonies and songs, a large group of children joined the meeting on the floor directly across from us. The pastor later told us they called the church the children’s church. A missionary visited this slum some years before and began the church with a seemingly solid foundation. Many in the community came to Christ, including children. However, at some point the missionary left and slowly the church began to dwindle as the members slipped back into their previous way of life. The children, however, remained.
And they prayed.
They prayed for their parents, their teachers, their community and their church. They prayed for God to save their community. They prayed until the adults began returning to the church.
We often think about the phrase “faith like a child” as all about being simple, and in comparison to being complex, it is. But just because it is simple, does not mean it lacks depth. Children are persistent, single-minded and determined. To have faith like a child doesn’t mean you follow along unthinking because you were told to. It doesn’t even mean having faith will always be easy and carefree. Becoming like little children means to allow ourselves complete dependence on God because we trust Him and love Him. It means clinging to Him when we are scared or we don’t understand what’s going on around us. It means pursuing Him with a single-minded focus, unrelenting because we long to just sit in His lap and be with Him.
Photo: Children's Church in Uganda (2004)
