Rattins living Coram Deo

Just as we all have ways of "knowing" when spring is upon us, or fall has truly come, we've been interested to hear how people know WHEN rainy season is arriving. There was a massive rain storm the other weekend... did that mean anything? There was a day this past weekend where it rained twice in the same day... did THAT mean anything? Josh's Acholi teacher said that the way they know if rainy season is upon us is when there is green poking up through the burnt fields. Exactly what we observed on Sunday when we took a little drive - a most welcome sight: bright spring green sprouting up out of burnt parched soil!

There's something to be said about the "Pearl of Africa." Uganda is so beautiful, although a visitor in January to the north might not agree, but the rest of the year Uganda is, for the most part, lush, green, and simply beautiful. And the evenings do get cool. Even at the peak of hot season (which, it seems we have now passed), there was only about a week or two of very hot nights. Now, I'm not saying that you wouldn't want a fan other nights, but by very early morning, the air is cool and a fan would be too much in some months. We've registered as low as 62 degrees early morning outside during rainy season! So this evening, the kids and I are sitting outside, loving it! A heavy wind came through earlier, threatening rain (it missed us - boohoo!), but cooling down the air temperature. Now, except that I'm sitting between our jerry cans which we rely on entirely for water these days, I could forget that it is hot season with the cool breeze and happ...

There was a bright orange glow in the dusk sky with billowing smoke - we could even see embers and sparks and flames from our yard... I started to worry that in this dryness it would spread. Everything around us is like kindling. We finally asked the night guard about it. He said the following (my paraphrase, of course): It is a hut burning. It is the roof ( see the photo above taken during wet season, hence the green grass, imagine how DRY the thatch roof is now! ). It does not spread from house to house ( we have heard that it does sometimes - it likely depends on how close the burning hut is to the one next to it - but it wouldn't spread beyond the small cluster of huts). People do not make noise when the hut is burning because it is believed that the noise will make it spread more. The next day, the community will gather and each will give a spoon or a bowl or a shirt and the men will gather grass and poles and the boys will gather rope, and the roof will be reconstructed...

Today at Home of Love I got to witness the most hilarious sight. I usually let the children take Gracie (well strapped into her chair!) and I let them play in the eating shelter (LARGE open sided thatch shelter) and I give them their space. Today, Lucy wasn't there when I arrived, so I had nothing to do except sit in the eating shelter and watch them play. The children took turns pushing Gracie while the other children crouched down some distance in front of Gracie. The child pushing Gracie would push her toward the crowd of crouching children who would spring out of her way at the last minute to screams of joy from Gracie, giggles from the children, and chuckles from the older children and adults watching on. Hilarious! :) (I wish I had my camera but I sent it with Josh on his day trip to another city...)

Josh coaxed me (from my "busy- ness " around the house) outside to see the stars tonight. The stars are so beautiful and brilliant, often with very little surrounding light to dull them. The dry desert wind (cooler with the sun down) and the bats kept the mosquitoes at bay while we admired God's handiwork. God has placed each star in the sky and holds it in place - in constellations that can be recognized from all over the earth! We reminisced about when we were in Zambia - now that was a beautiful sky! In a settlement some distance from the nearest town (Macha is where I'm referring to), the land is flat, the sky is as big as it gets, there is no light to pollute the view, and the stars reach down and grab your attention. Even as dread gripped my heart every time I made the walk from my home to the hospital, knowing that someone was dead or dying (the only reason they would call me at night), the stars reminded me of God's presence, his peace would overwhelm ...

For those of you in the USA, here's a conference to check out. It's Christian Alliance for Orphans Summit and the theme is "justice and mercy flow from the Gospel." AMEN! It's May 3-4 in Southern California. I've never been, but always wanted to go... check it out! :) http://www.summitviii.org/blog/

As I stare at my filthy feet and smell a slight... scent... coming from everyone, a friend asked about the water situation here.... I'll do my best to explain! We live in a "mzungu house" with city water piped in. Most local Acholi live in huts and go to the local borehole to get water each day - carrying a jerry can full of water back on their heads (do you know HOW heavy that is?! At least 40 pounds!) or they might rig a bicycle or a wheelbarrow up to carry more jerry cans. This is why you have children - to fetch the water! ;-P Boreholes do not generally dry up - a borehole is a narrow shaft drilled deep enough to access under ground water supplies. These supplies are deep (sometimes a mile deep) and generally do not have problems during a typical dry season here. On the other hand, city water comes from a reservoir on the surface (it may come from other places too, I don't claim to be an expert on this!). My laundry dries within an hour in this dry dry heat, so...

After a more than usual amount of chaos this morning, I headed off (sans-children) to pick up Stephen. Our goal was to take him to the local hospital where there is a physiotherapy department, get him an assessment, a regular therapy schedule, and some equipment (stander, AFOs, new wheelchair)... After all the usual delays which included having to stop to buy "airtime" for our cellphones, buying ground-nuts for Home of Love, going to Home of Love to get the paper work, setting up my babysitters to watch the kiddos... we arrived at the hospital! Horray! The physiotherapist was very kind (although unhappy to see Stephen in Gracie's convaid - bad positioning! haha!) and told us to come back Thursday for a full assessment. SO, we loaded back up, bumped back over the crazy cow-path roads again, bumped Stephen back over the paths to his home, greeted the local residents at their huts and prayed with them, and I took Lucy back to Home of Love. By American doctor standards, I s...

It feels like we're in the dead of winter - the depressing lull in early February that comes in New England when the days are too short, the wind too cold, the snow shabby, trees stick-figures against the grey sky, and snow days have lost their appeal. Except we're sweating and parched. The earth is dead - no rain for months now. The heat is intense. The dry dusty gusty winds from the Sahara in the morning are intriguing but not refreshing. And the lack of green certainly affects us. Just like it does in the winter in New England. Where is the new life, where is the miracle of new leaves and lush grass? In the mango tree, as we watch baby mangoes grow against all odds, without rainful (but with plenty of sunshine!)... In the avocado tree still producing... In the boreholes that never dry up... We just have to look for the miracles of life a little harder as we guzzle precious water and apply chapstick, as we bathe over buckets so we can reuse the water to wash clothes, a...