Every time I step out my door, I find a little package of gifts in a gallon size zip lock bag, on the steps or in the mailbox, labeled for a sponsored child at

Divine Grace Primary School, Uganda. Getting them all packed up and getting ready to send back to Uganda with Peter and Phoebe Sozi through

Care Ministry. These things will be so cherished, not because of their worldly value, which is

dear, but because of what they represent, a living breathing, loving, praying person who sees and cares for this child. Thank you sponsors, these

relationships will change all of our lives. Over 220 children sponsored, 700+ to go, "Is anything too

wonderful or difficult for God?" Luke 2:27

For H

8 Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear

guard. 9 Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I... 10 and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and

satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday.11 The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never

fail. Isaiah 58:8-11

“Go before”, “hold”, “strengthen”. Those were the words running through my mind as I searched my memory, and then my online search tools for words from His Word to comfort my baby girl. Following knee surgery last June for a torn meniscus, Hannah has been working to rejoin her basketball team and to run track in the spring. However, her pain has not subsided as expected. A MRI last week revealed the reason why - Hannah's knee is not healing, it is deteriorating, rapidly. Her doctors see no good course of action, thought action must be taken. We will see a specialist in Chicago on Monday.

Hannah loves to move, to run fast, to jump, work hard and sweat. It has always been a joy to watch her. She also is in love with her Savior. She knows where to take her joys and her frustrations. She shares those things with her family and friends, but she knows as humans we may fail her, and that her Savior never will. She is looking for the mercies He is already showing in this trying time, taking note. She is grieving over the losses but anticipating His works.

God has knit Hannah together so marvelously, and you, and me. Hannah’s knee contained a meniscus that is unusually circular and thick, and her femur, where it enters her knee joint, is flattened rather than the usual rounded shape, variations that worked beautifully together until she was injured. These variations are also what is challenging to her doctors... she needs a meniscal transplant, but she is not a good candidate because of her unusual anatomy. Those are the facts from our perspective. The marvelous truth, however, is that Hannah’s Lord God is privy to a COMPLETE perspective, to all of the wisdom, to all of the power, to all of the mercy, and to all of the love needed to deliver Hannah however He chooses. What a delight to live as a daughter of such a God, with out fear in spite of sadness, with hope in spite of pain. Thank you for joining us in lifting Hannah up to such a God, and to Him be all the glory.

A taste in photos until I can gather my thoughts

Please click the link to our facebook photo albums:
Trying to capture this trip in photos

More of Uganda for those who have asked

The Last of Uganda

Homesickness while still at home

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men... Ecclesiates 3:11

Pre trip week. I KNOW those words stir up many images in the minds of mothers everywhere.

For me, the challenge of pre trip week includes an inexplicable need to nest, in addition to actually packing. I've heard I am not the only one. This need to nest multiples rapidly if I am leaving children at home. Which I am. In 5 days.

Phil, Hannah and I will be leaving for Uganda on Saturday. Peter, David and Cameron will be in the U.S., together and split up, in Murfreesboro, at the beach, and in Dallas visiting grandparents. I have been so excited about Africa for weeks..... and I still am.... but to be honest, yesterday I got homesick. And I'm still here.

I can remember seasons when my focus was so much on home. Be it because I had little ones here everyday all day, or because we had not yet had our hearts pricked by the the inspiration to go on these trips to other cultures, I remember when my EXTRA energies, my project and over and above the routine efforts were ALL geared toward home. Sometimes I miss that, sometimes I wish my heart were not pulled in directions which are worlds apart. But the fact is, a knowledge and a longing have been born in the hearts of our family, and it cannot be undone. Along side that longing is another, for all the loves of our hearts to be made right, in one home, without separation by miles, poverty, hunger, and disease. We look forward and long for that day, and we have every reason to hope.

And in the end, the end is

Oceans and oceans
Of love and love again
We'll see how the tears that have fallen
Were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all
And we'll look back on these tears as old tales

'Cause after the last tear falls
There is love

andrew-peterson.com

"You were taught, with regard to your former way of life........ to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. Ephesians 4:22-24

The in the back of my mind urging to sit down and write... but what about... there is too much ... it has been to long.... has finally given way to pushing the "new post" button and seeing what tumbles out of my jumbled overflowing heart and mind. Our home life right now is a whirling existence, dotted by sweet sweet times together. We are pulled in many directions and involved on many fronts in pursuing growth, in pursuing travel, in pursuing a deeper more intimate relationship with God. I reflected.... looking for a central theme, hoping it would bubble to the surface. New. hmmmm

Hmmmmm. Hannah, 16, is thinking about schools. LikeUniversity school, like leave your mama and daddy and pack up your clothes and books and photos and our money and drive away and don't wake up in your bed every day in the light blue room with the brown silk curtains down the hall from the kitchen kind of school. I have always said every SINGLE time we get just a little bit comfortable with any stage of parenting God is more than happy to undo that comfortableness by propelling Hannah onto the next giant parenting stage. Keeps us

humble, dependent, seeking wisdom. Right where we need to be. Hannah is a brave girl, formulating her next adventure. Is it fair to say I am thrilled for her and devastated for myself?

She has been required to work through knee surgery which completely interrupted her summer - basketball, summer camp, and driving her jeep with the standard transmission.

But she is on a journey back to health, working hard at rehab, pursuing a full IB diploma, singing with our youth praise band, and being a precious daughter.

Peter, 15 as of Thursday, has made the giant leap from the comfortable lap of precious and nurturing and

challenging and wisdom instilling Providence Christian Academy, the classical school he has attended since he was a

little old wise 5 year old baby to Big Huge

awesomely diverse and wisdom using and wonderfully stretching Oakland High School, the 6A public high school down the street. It is SOOO interesting to listen to Peter, to watch him put into practice all of the that has been poured into him all of these 15 years, to watch him get comfortable and be himself, and love people who on the outside seem nothing like him, and to work, to work at his classes, to work at multiple

positions on the freshman football team,

to work at baseball (his true passion), to work at time management, to work at basketball, being a family member, being a Christ follower. He is a BIG boy, like bigger than his daddy big, and a BIG joy to behold.

David, oh David, 13 and fierce. Fiercely passionate about music and about hitting a baseball and about hitting on the football field. Fiercely gentle in spirit, fiercely descriptive in writing, and fiercely hungry all the time. Our baby David, our peace maker and muse, has MATURED into a young MAN David. David is a deep conversation on the spur of the moment any time of day or night. He is still a great mimic, be it Sid from Ice Age or the Joker from the Dark Knight ( I don't like that one).... he is good.

He makes us laugh. David is developing his skills on drums and the guitar, he is a dedicated student of both. He is a great brother and a great friend. His last year of middle school, WHEN did this happen??? Next year he joins Peter and Hannah... in High School.

Cameron, nearly 12, baby Mammie, he is a joy these days. Something very precocious in Cameron has softened into a delightful pre adolescent sensitivity. If you have known us a long time you will remember that Cameron completely rejected his place as the youngest in the family and insisted for years that he wanted to be the boss (first words I heard in the morning from his two and three year old lips from his crib ).... that he NEEDED to be the boss.... Bless his heart. The fact was he had a million bosses all around him and he did not like that. Time has told, as did many amused spectators from that time, that as long as he chose to align his passionate heart with good, we would be in great shape. He has grown to pour that heart out on the basketball court, baseball and football fields, in friendships with children in the Dominican Republic on our mission trips, in writing, in drawing, in singing! We are all dreading the day when Cameron shoots up and grows up, the last glimmer of child we have in the house.

I remember when our children were little, 1,2,4, and 5 for example we would laugh and say, "just imagine when they are ALL teenagers. I'm not sure what we thought that meant, but I doubt we imagined this...... these real senses of humor, real dreams, capacity for real work, these fledgeling responsible, persevering people. I also doubt we dreamed that such silliness between them would continue to run rampant the way that it does.

Even on days when I am a tad bit worn out from driving to and fro and to and fro and to and fro, from washing very very smelly enormous socks turned inside out of course, from staying up late with those who are up, and rising "somewhat" early for those who need to, and even tired of hearing opinions about my thoughts and plans when I used to only hear "yes, m'am, mama, that sounds fun!"... I am so thankful, truly, humbly grateful, for each of these babies 3/4th grown. I adore this season, that is so fleeting, and all that it means to be "mama".

I couldn't help but notice... it was such a revealing snapshot of our life.  

Fresh tomatoes, guitar music, football mouthpiece and knee pads, a puddle of something, dish clothes, party invitation, letter from Wheaton, yellow tote waiting to be embroidered, shirt worn to school today, church bulletin, school lunch form, brownie batter in a bowl, coffee cup, McCarty salt and pepper bowls, high school freshman schedule, retainer in its case, Algebra homework, fortune cookies, 6th grade lit book, grocery bag, bunny food, Athleta catalog, cereal bowl, insurance form, banana, protein powder, mobile phone, water bottles, a new razor, Votivo red currant candle, and blue leather journal.  

All on my kitchen counter.

Hold on Loosely - Dominican Republic post 1

The words that I heard were, "no more bags tonight."  I thought, "that is not right...." and looked around at the 15 others traveling with me.  From what I could see, only 2 of us had any luggage, and those two only one bag each.

We were in a developing country.  We were tired, so very tired from our 17 hour travel day and we were still hours from our destination.  I was traveling with four children.  To the desk I bebopped for reassurance that the remaining 27 bags belonging to our mission team were on the way.  What I saw was a young girl who spoke very little, very polite English.  I don't speak Spanish, but what I gathered from the conversations taking place did not provide the reassurance I was looking for.  

Images of what our lost bags contained started flooding my mind.  Packets of materials to teach embroidery to women, mosquito nets, our bedding, shoes other than the flip flips I was wearing, crafts kits and toys for the school children, bug spray,  baby wipes, duct tape, underwear, flashlights, bed bug spray, toiletries (some very essential ones), all of our clothes, all of the massive amounts of equipment and supplies needed to complete a mission trip to the  mountain villages of the Dominican Republic without electricity, hot water, or walmart.  I can't describe the feeling of vulnerability that I felt as we left the airport near midnight with my husband, 4 kids, and nothing but my backpack.  

Yes I can.

I felt needy.  

There was nothing I could do about. 

I felt out of control.

What is God doing?

We made a few stops that night, first at the home of the missionary  who was hosting us where we were given sheets and a towel,  nightgowns for the women.  Second stop, a late night store to purchase the essential toiletries, one of several opportunities I would have over the next few days to redefine essential. The two other adult women on the trip and I slashed through the mental list of what is needed, a list that for me would have previously included moisturizer, hair plump, my shampoo, my favorite deodorant, mouth wash, three kinds of sunscreen, two kinds of bug spray (high% deet), eucalyptus lotion, body wash, on and on and on.  We chose 2 bottles of shampoo, 3 spray deodorants,  tooth brushes, and feminine products for the 16 team members to share.  And we were ecstatic to have them.  Hmmmmm. Clue #1.  

Flashback:  One week before

One week before our trip I was frustrated.  It was fourth of July weekend and our air conditioning unit had quit working on Wednesday.  We needed a new unit,  but it couldn't be installed til Monday.  I had been hot for 5 days and wasn't very happy.  My dining room was teeming with mission trip supplies, clothes, craft kit materials, all waiting to be packed.  Little did I know what was to come.  It is kind of a blur now but I will try to hit the high points.  Early in the week our dishwasher quit working, as did our washing machine.  Washer needed a part that might be here on 5-6 days.   Pretrip laundry with no washer, family of 6.  Now I was hot, washing dishes by hand, and washing clothes in sink, at my mother's, and at laundry mat.  Next, the hot water was only warm.  Then it was cold.  New hot water heater needed, can't be installed until after we leave for our trip.  Now we are hot, washing clothes and dishes by hand in cold water, cold showers.  Add two toilets not working properly.  This is sounding a lot like living in the Dominican Republic.  Clue #2 

As our house continued to "fall apart" upon the discovery of water under our hard wood, failed attempts at repairs, and on and on, I finally become amused.  What more could happen?  What did it matter?   We were almost packed, prepared and ready to spend a week in the mountains of the DR that we love, our family together.  It seemed like an escape from the chaos that home had become.  I even said, "I never thought I would say that I can't wait to leave for our mission trip to rest and relax."  

Flash forward again, one week: 

In a truck driving up into the mountains of the DR to our camp at 3AM.  Thinking about what we don't have. Trying to regroup and plan.... with out anything.  Having slept about two hours the night before we left, now dreading another near sleepless night.   

Texts start coming to my phone from friends who are praying.    

"I will praise the Lord who counsels me... even at night my heart instructs me."  

"Know how far God is willing to go to prove His love for us.  He will never leave us."  

"Keep looking for Me and trust Me, I am bringing something special."  

"Texts" start coming to my mind from God who is loving. 

Hold on loosely to your plans, they are not My plans.

This is how they feel.  Who?  The women.

Love them, as I love you.  Let Me love them through you. 

You don't need your stuff, but boy do you need Me.  

I am stripping away to fill you up.  I am stripping away so I can love you.  Let me love you.  

I scribbled these down on a piece of paper by the light of my phone, not wanting to miss the moment.  

As the next two days passed, as we rewore our clothes, shared any small thing we had, rejoiced over a clean pair of underwear supplied by our hosts, and discovered the joy of virtually no possessions to clutter our space, the revelations kept coming.  Of the 11 ministry bags we checked in Nashville, we received only one: the one needed for the first day of ministry, and it contained only the essentials, no props or costumes, no frills.  We made up for that with enthusiasm and love. We had no supplies to teach embroidery to women on the 2nd day, and then learned that leftover kits from last year were on site, the exact number needed for the women who were present.  Some of us slept without netting, yet mosquitos were not an issue.   The toiletries we had to share never ran out.  

Was every moment perfect?  Certainly not.  For our family mishaps continued in the form of a severely infected bite on Cameron's leg (even PHIL was concerned), David being hit in the head with a shovel, and Peter experiencing what was, in retrospect, a potentially devastating fall into a cement block pit in the pitch black dark.  

Was God sufficient?  Abundantly so.  Healing, protection, provision, joy, rest, peace, and then, on the third day of our trip...... our luggage.  In his mercy,  our "trial" only lasted as long as necessary to teach the lessons.  Prove the love.  Show that we can do thing we do not think we can do.  How can I still need Him to prove it, require hardship to learn the lessons?  Keep teaching Lord, keep teaching.  

At the very least might I remember to hold on loosely and lift my eyes from my plans and my things, my preparations and my comforts, lift my eyes to the One from whom all help comes.  

Psalm 33:18-22

Watch this: God's eye is on those who revere him, 

      the ones who are looking for his love. 

   He's ready to come to their rescue in bad times; 

      in lean times he keeps body and soul together. 

  We're depending on God; 

      he's everything we need. 

   What's more, our hearts brim with joy 

      since we've taken for our own his holy name. 

   Love us, God, with all you've got— 

      that's what we're depending on.

Sue

There are experiences that shape us, that we can point to and say - without that - I wouldn't be me. There are people who touch us, who speak into our lives by word or deed - and their effect is lasting.

She did.

I was a little girl when I met her, maybe 7 or 8, picking up my sister from camp. Camp Desoto. It wasn't my turn yet, but she remembered me, by name, each time I came.

I was 11 when I spent my first summer at Camp Desoto, four weeks on Lookout Mountain, Mentone, AL. I had been dying to go, but the anticipation and the reality are not the same thing even for a child as independent and adventurous as I was, and the "very bad feelings" I had during those first few days away from home without a friend took me completely by surprise. I knew I couldn't be "homesick" because I didn't WANT to go home, I wanted to LOVE CAMP! But there were certain times of day when that terrible sick feeling would come. I did not tell a soul how I felt. But she knew. Sue knew.

"Laurie Felder (pronounced Lawrah Feldah), sit down here and tell me how you are" in that lovely, old Mississippi drawl. Without having to say, "I know you are sad right now but you will be fine", she was saying, "you are loved, I see how you feel, I know you don't want me to point out your sadness because you want to love it here and you will... don't worry.. you will. Give it time. Come sit with me anytime."

Sue Henry was a camper, counselor, and then owner/director of Camp Desoto. By the time I came along, she was an older women but she never seemed to age. The six summers I spent at Desoto, Sue was a fixture. She greeted us each July (2nd term is the best) with the beloved and much imitated words, "Here at Camp Desoto, we are unapologetically square", which sounded like this - "Heeah at Camp Desotah, we ah unahpalagetically squawah". Beautiful words that meant retreat, respite, relief, permission to rest in the purity of simple possessions, slower pace, modesty, and love.

Loving God, loving staff, and Sue. The same every year. During a time of uncertainty at home, camp was consistent, and I grew there, toward my Saviour.

My love and respect for Sue grew by leaps and bounds when, during our last year as 16 year old campers, we were given the opportunity to "retreat" at Sue's cabin on the mountain. She was a model of the loveliest spiritual disciplines and I remember her inspiring us to practice solitude. She painted a picture of the challenge - remove music, friends voices, even your Bible, clear your thoughts of plans, and reflect, soak in what God lays on your heart. Then she sent us out onto the mountainside. It was so much harder than I expected, even in that lovely setting on the brow of the mountain. But she had planted a seed in my heart which has grown into a craving for quiet and listening.

I came on staff at Desoto to teach horseback riding after my freshman year at Ole Miss, and unlike many other 1st year counselors, I was given a cabin of 12 and 13 year old girls, rather than the youngest (7-11 year old) campers. I did not have the confidence in myself that Sue apparently did, but she could see things I chose not to. She knew that difficult circumstances in my childhood had "grown me up" beyond my age and that though I was choosing not to display it, I had the maturity needed for older campers.

During staff training she shared with us that we are fully about selflessly loving little girls and it is not possible to love little girls with out first being filled up with God's love; we must carve out our own time with God. What could have better prepared me for mothering? I took many dilemmas to her for advice and prayer and never left her porch without a sense of peace and a plan. She knew so very much about little girls.... and big girls. Phil and I were dating at this time, and establishing our plans for the future, and she asked and then listened so carefully all about him, and remembered every detail for years after. I can't imagine the hundreds of girls who have been touched by her wisdom and love. And I, like many others, was convinced she had a direct line to God's ear. The time I spent each morning in Staff meeting with Sue and other amazing young women I was on staff with will always be a most cherished memory.

"Sarcasm is the humor of small minds, " she would say in her most genteel manner. Sue was an English teacher before being at camp full time and she loved a beautifully written or spoken phrase. She spoke gently and kindly with wisdom and love.

Two years ago, in the fall, my family spent a long weekend at Camp Desoto at family camp. I was taken by surprise by the intensity of my emotions and memories when we drove through the gates. From the dining hall ramp, the gym balcony, the slam of cabin screen doors, and the riding rings where I saddled hundreds of sweet camp horses and gave leg ups to that many little girls, I was so deeply happy for my family to be experiencing my beloved Desoto. But best of all was the fact that from the dining hall porch, I heard "Lawrah Feldah (Newman), sit down heeah and tell me how you ah. And these ah yorh boys... and Hannah. Hello theah Phil, and how are you? Now you ah in Muhfreesberah......" Every detail, still. My family now knew Sue.

Tonight I join hundreds of little girls, big girls, college girls, mamas and grandmothers who loved and grew under the prayerful guidance of Sue Henry in saying goodbye, for now. I am so grateful for the time I spent with Sue and the ways that she shaped my life.

She bestowed on us

"a crown of beauty

instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will (she, and that we might) be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor."

Isaiah 61:3

I can't fathom the magnitude of a legacy like hers.

(Camp Desoto continues to flourish under the direction of owner/directors Phil and Marsha Hurt and my friend and program director Jennifer Miller.)

*emphasis mine

Longing

My three boys are away.  Hannah is busy with basketball and independence.  Phil is working odd hours into evenings.  Our house is so quiet, urgent demands on my time so reduced, and I am unwinding.  The days before the boys left were overflowing with to do's and sleep was scarce.  But now that I'm rested, I am floundering. 

Bills to pay, pictures to hang,  bunnies' cage to clean, newly seeded lawn to water, files to organize, photos to send, phone calls to return, albums to work on, closets to clean out, beds to make, plants to pot, repairs to schedule, groceries to buy, embroidery to finish, mission projects to plan, meals to cook, exercise to get.  I don't feel like any of it.  I miss them.  

I think that I do not have enough time for all the things I want to do and need to do, and "if I didn't have to.... I could get everything done".  Not true.  Interesting.  

Longing.  

To hear my boys, to see what they are doing, talk about it, smell them.  

To drive Hannah where she needs to go, talk on the way... on the way home.  

To have Phil here at bedtime, read and talk.  

Longing. 

For family under my feet, in the house, noisy and happy and together.  

Will wonders never cease.