Rattins living Coram Deo

"Abby gets a little excited when talking about orphans." My dear friend spoke with a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her lips.  Her words struck me.  "Isn't everyone passionate about orphans and vulnerable children?" I thought. I am immersed in the "African orphan crisis." I live it, breathe it, sweat it, feel it, speak it, hug it. The "crisis" is inextricably woven into my family. I have kept silent for long, as we have sat back as observers and learners.  But as our two year anniversary in Uganda approaches, I have decided to put down some thoughts for others to read, hopefully to help our supporters and friends get a better sense for what it means to be a vulnerable child in Africa. As a means of introduction, we adopted one special needs child from Liberia 7 years ago and are adopting one abandoned total orphan from Uganda where we live (we've already been a family for a year and a half).  We have three biologically birthe

Today I ate a feast of goat meat with my fingers, encouraged my children digging in the dirt and told them to stop bothering the goats, caught a chicken to show Gracie, and laughed about rats while sorting through dusty books... I've been pondering "belonging." I grew up to be a third culture kid - an American missionary kid who didn't belong in America.  I looked American, but wasn't.  My passport said I was American, but my heart didn't. Over the years, through college, medical school, residency, I drifted into becoming more American.  I started to belong to America. Then I moved back to Africa.  And I don't belong in Africa. I will never be Acholi, no matter how hard I try.  But now, after two years of living in Africa again, I certainly don't belong in America. So... where do I belong? My children will (hopefully) struggle with this very question.  Yes, I pray that my children feel that discomfort of belonging (or lack thereof).  Becaus

This day marks a bittersweet anniversary.  An anniversary that my older sister is very good at remembering - for very obvious reasons! This photo (above) was taken a day or two before the anniversary... maybe you can guess what happened!  Two years ago today, we left Pennsylvania, left my family, and I haven't seen them since (except for my little sister who visited us in June!). Two years ago today, we anxiously delayed leaving Pennsylvania as long as we could... waiting for my baby nephew to make his grand appearance! He finally obliged, at the last possible minute, and we got to hold him for a precious hour when he was just hours old... and then we said goodbye. Happy Birthday, Matthias!! ( My mom with her 6 grandkids on that day. ) Two years later: - We have five children (two of whom have never been out of Uganda). - My mom has 9 grandkids (two of whom she has never met in person). - We have two more nephews (on Josh's side - who we have yet to

We visited our colleague and friend, Rose, and her brand new baby girl, Lakisa, this week.  This adorable healthy newborn was an answer to prayer as mama and baby are both healthy and thriving.  This is not a given in this area.  Child and maternal mortality rates are high - very high. But what struck me was a comment that she made as we sat in her tiny sitting room with her husband (unusual!), her two sons, a maid (usually a young lady from one of the families who needs domestic experience as she waits to get married), and the two grandmothers.  Yes, both grandmothers came to help.  This is a little unusual, especially since Rose and her husband are from different tribes.  But the happy grandmothers were both sitting there, together, loving on their grandbaby. "The baby is doing so well because the mothers are here to help.  When you are young like us, you can't have a healthy baby.  You need help from the mothers."  Rose is probably around 30 years old and has had

My heart is heavy.  I'm facing the reality that I'm giving a very serious diagnosis to an orphan. If this was a child in North America, his parents would be grieving, angry, and reaching out to find resources and support... If this was a child in North America, his future would be full of plans for transitional care, skills training, adult living options, surgeries, medication after medication after medication, specialized diets... Here's a reality about orphans worldwide, but specifically in sub-Saharan Africa: this kiddo has relatives.  But, for reasons that I will keep private, they have rejected him. So, he does not have an advocate.  He does not have a mom to stay up at his side all night watching over him.  He does not have a dad who will run into town to get his medication before it runs out.  But he also does not automatically have the option for adoption because he still has relatives. The good news? He has us! Praise God that he is a Home of Love chi

Tonight, I'm sitting under my mosquito net, Googling "stinging caterpillars." I'm always learning something new - usually out of necessity.  This evening, I narrowly rescued Baby from a "bad" caterpillar that was making a bee-line for him.  This is the prickly caterpillar that people here fear greatly.  Fear almost as much as snakes... but not quite... nothing tops a snake. After I kicked the prickly caterpillar away and snatched the baby to the sound of Christine exclaiming about the dangers of that caterpillar, the caterpillar kindly obliged and curled up into a ball waiting patiently until I could find something to kill it with.  I then scolded each of my other children for not wearing their shoes outside (again) and made baby play next to me for the rest of the day... As if I am in control.... Yesterday, I lost him twice.  And silently freaked out. And got silently angry at the teenagers and adults in my household for letting him get out of their s

My sister introduced me to the term "first world problem." I've been gnawing on this concept all day. We live in the "third world" or whatever the politically correct term is these days... I call it "low-resource setting." But we still have what I would classify as first world problems. I have to make my own cheese to make lasagna.  'sigh'  ( I have figured out how to make amazing lasagna here AND I have an oven!! ) 60% of the time, there's no running water from my kitchen tap so I have to do dishes from a tap that comes from our water tank.  'sigh' ( I still have running water 80% of the year!! ) I can't do laundry when the power is out ( because I have a washing machine!!).  'sigh' But, additionally, our community has "NGO-world problems." It's really the same concept.  But created by the presence of Non-Governmental Organizations (NGOs) who have given hand-outs for a decade  (or longer) due

"Mama, when Gracie's in heaven, she won't need a wheelchair anymore, right? And she'll be able to talk to me, right?" (5 year old Ana, this week) Our Gracie is our first-born child.  We've been a family for nearly 7 years now.  We couldn't imagine life without her.  God has used her to shape us in so many ways.   But being on the mission field with a growing nonverbal daughter with spastic quadriplegia cerebral palsy, epilepsy, significant development delays, GERD, constipation, and a swallow disorder is not always easy.  God had it all planned out, though.  He directed me to medical school so that Gracie could have her own personal doctor! (She LOVES her HOL friends and is very popular!) Our daily challenges with her include: - No special education so she's homeschooled.  She much prefers that someone BESIDES Mama teach her, so this summer I hired a dear friend who is in university for education.  I've trained her to be Gracie'

Money is a difficult thing.  Anywhere. " For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me" (Mark 14:7, ESV). On many foreign mission fields, a missionary who is living on a salary well below the poverty threshold in their country of origin, is viewed as wealthy in their host country.  Since they are foreign, they surely have immediate access to unending streams of money. Giving money in these settings is simply a bad idea.  I can write more about that later. Even giving THINGS is often a bad idea. So, here we are, trying to be responsible with our money, trying to live sacrificially, trying to demonstrate to our children that the riches of this world hold nothing for us... but we have to wrestle daily with how to spend our money. YOU have to wrestle daily with how to spend your money.   As I boiled it down, it came down to one principle: am I spending my money to invest in people? I host a

"I'm just a student."   Oh the beauty of that statement! You'll never know until that season is over... but the carte blanche that comes with the title "student" is truly once in a lifetime.  You can go, experience, taste, see.  As a student you are clearly there to learn.  No other expectations are placed on you.  Everyone knows that students are poor, have little influence, and are nomadic in nature. When you cease to be a "student" (by title), expectations and hopes are raised by your presence.  Cultural blunders change from being funny learning opportunities to dangerous offenses. This has become increasingly clear to us as our opportunities for learning are curtailed by our roles and responsibilities within our organization.  When we go somewhere, regardless of OUR motivation, we are viewed as ambassadors of Action International Ministries. We are so grateful that we had the opportunity as students to sleep in Masaai huts 'on the g

We're tired. Plain and simple. The amount of work that needs to be done far exceeds the capacity of one pastor and one full-time mom. But we struggle onward.  We see God's hand in bringing us here, in placing us here at this time with these needs.  We never doubt that this is exactly where God wants us.  Even on those days when we long for a few hours of being anonymous and having people watch our children who are comfortable with our special needs daughter. But we're tired. "The end of all things is at hand; therefore be self-controlled and sober-minded for the sake of your prayers.  Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins.  Show hospitality to one another without grumbling.  As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves as one who serves by the strength that God supplies - in order that in every

Sunday... not a day of rest when you're in ministry, but today was as close as we get... Josh got up at his usual 5:30am to spend time with the Lord and work on his sermon.  I couldn't get the kids ready in time for 8:00am service at Peter's church, so Josh went to the service for a little bit while I finished getting the family ready.  By 10:00am, we all piled into the car to go to Home of Love where we participate in worship service each Sunday. It was still breakfast time, so we got some maize porridge with odi (peanut-sesame-paste) - yum! Eventually, the worship time started, with fantastic singing and dancing led by the Home of Love children! I will never tire of it! Josh preached.  Noah wiggled and rolled around on the floor.  ('sigh!') Micah tried to sleep and couldn't commit.  Ana read her Bible.  Moses looked at the pictures in his Bible. After worship time, we had a wonderful time just hanging out with our two interns and Bosco.  We seldom

I apologize for the long silence - between a broken thumb, an out-of-country husband, a baby having serious medical issues... I got behind in pretty much everything! The Boston Marathon bombing hit close to home. As a resident physician, I worked the medical tent at the marathon.  I expected heat/cold injuries, tendon injuries, dehydration... I would never have expected the medical tent to be transformed into a war zone medical tent.  I would have been shocked... traumatized... grateful to be present and helpful... my family would have been so worried about me... my family might have lived through a certain portion of grief just imagining what life would be like if I was several yards closer to the blast zone... When we moved our young family overseas, some people objected.  How could we put our children in danger by moving to AFRICA ?! We argued that the safest place to be is in the center of God's will. No, not physical safety necessarily.  God doesn't guarantee phy

Sermons The fellowship of his suffering - Conrad Mbewe Desiring God collection - John Piper has preached extensively on suffering Works of God conference - November 2012 - Desiring God Books Disability and the Sovereign Goodness of God  - John Piper Disability and the Gospel: How God Uses Our Brokenness to Display His Grace  - Michael Beates Why, O God? Suffering and disability in the Bible and the church - Waters Just the Way I Am: God's Good Design in Disability  - Krista Horning Wrestling with an Angel: A Story of Love, Disability and the Lessons of Grace  - Greg Lucas Suffering and the Sovereignty of God  - John Piper and Justin Taylor Blog post How I should live with disability - Krista Horning - by Justin Taylor Resources Joni and friends Please comment if you have more resources that I should add to this list!

I think in the USA I could convince myself that I was something.   I could fake it pretty well. I only had to clean my house when company was coming over because no one pops in unannounced. I could plan dinner on my way home –buy frozen meatballs or a jar of tomato sauce. I could take my child to every specialist “just to make sure.” I could find babysitters so I could go shopping alone or see a friend. But here, God has brought me to a beautiful place of emptiness.   For several months, that emptiness was nearly despair as I slowly let go of trying to make things happen, be a good mom and wife, get things done, keep the house that I want others to see, keep the ministries afloat, be in control of something… Just in time for Josh’s month long absence (between multiple trips to various regions of Uganda and culminating with a two-week trip to another continent), God filled me with an understanding that I am and have nothing to offer.   And it’s BEAUTIFUL! God w

No, our life is not a daily exotic adventure... but every day brings the unexpected. My day is much like yours - feed the family, clean the family, toilet the family, get the family places on time, and somewhere in there try to make the right choices about my priorities. But in the midst of attempted routine, every day brings a flare for the dramatic.  You can count on nothing - will there be power? will there be water? will there be ink for the printer, petrol for the car, gas for the stove? will someone you're counting on to show up actually show up and show up when you are expecting them? who will show up at your doorstep right when your child decides to disobey? I can't even describe all the things that "go wrong" in a given day - it almost sounds unbelievably ridiculous some days.  No one would believe us. And yet these adventures are such a blessing, such a gift.  If I ever thought I was in control before, now I KNOW that I am not.  In the past, I may ha

We get to be on the front lines. Even in our role of equipping our Ugandan counterparts to minister, we're still much more on the front lines than our sending churches. We have the privilege of figuring out how to help that starving child and his family directly.  We have the opportunity to pick up the snotty child and share dirt.  We get to pray with that woman as her husband dies of AIDS.  We get to choose, quite literally, if we will eat meat this week or instead feed meat to the orphans under our care. For most of you who read my blog, you live vicariously through us.  And WE get the privilege of having a very direct effect on our community, on the community that you pray for, that you give financially for, that you teach your children about. What a blessing and immense privilege for us! I'm not saying it's easy to be on the front lines.  In fact, historically, missionaries have been so moved by the desperate situations that they face, that we have created worse

You can see God's hand anywhere AND everywhere. But on the mission field, you find yourself more dependent than ever on God and his grace.  We have the privilege of seeing his work first hand.  His protection, his grace, his mercy, his providence, his blessings, his sanctifying processes... We have less things in our lives to distract us from seeing his hand.  We are totally immersed in ministry - as an entire family.  We try to have social events with people outside of our ministries, but most of our time is spent with our co-workers in ministry.  Most of our friends are our Acholi friends who minister with us.  Most of our conversations are about ministry and about how God is working.  As we talk nonstop about things of God, it becomes so very apparent that HE is a great God! There is nothing predictable about life here.  When there is power, we praise God! When there is water, we praise God! When there is not, we praise God... or seek to see God's purpose as we fight f

Many missionaries around the world hire house help. WHAT?! It can be very uncomfortable, at least for Americans. How can I ask someone else to wash my dishes and mop my floor? How can I ask someone else to do things that I don't enjoy doing, like hanging the laundry in the hot sun and cleaning bathrooms? The reality is that hiring house help is often the right thing to do.  Here are a few reasons: 1) The requests for financial assistance are unending.  Not a week goes by that our gate man doesn't let someone in to ask me for money.  By hiring a trusted person to help in my house, I'm giving her an income and contributing to the local economy.  In some communities, it's almost expected that the missionary will hire someone(s) as a contribution to the community. 2) Discipleship happens in the home.  My helper is a born-again Christian and is eager to talk about things of the Lord.  She's interested in how we raise our children and train them, instead of le

I've written about some missionary struggles.  They are not unique to missionaries, but will give you some ideas for how to pray for your missionaries. Now, the blessings... but WHERE to start? The blessings of obeying God are infinite and beyond our imagination... Being a missionary is about bringing people to God.  It's not about a project, although there can be projects.  It's not about numbers, goals, or accomplishments.  It's about people and relationships and, ultimately, relationship with God. So, I start with the people - these are the biggest blessing, for sure.  Josh's days are spent pouring into those that God has put under his leadership.  He has the privilege of equipping Ugandans to lead the ministries and lead their churches.  These men encourage Josh tremendously with their hunger for God and for the TRUTH of GOD's word.  I'm blessed to be able to serve them cookies and coffee when they meet at our home! We get to worship with b

Death to self. We don't mind death to self.  We feel honored to share just a tiny bit in Christ's suffering. But chocolate cookies and lasagna... now that would be nice. A quick meal and a dishwasher... running water and electricity.  Running to the store and knowing that you'll find a desired ingredient.  Fast food for those days on the road.  A straight answer and a fair price. Somewhere to buy your food that doesn't involve fly-covered meat, open stares, haggling, and harassment... No animals wandering through the house, no snakes lurking in the tall grass... medical care available for your family, vaccines, quick answers, thorough tests... On a good day, these things mean nothing.  Just conveniences, luxuries! But on a stressful day, on a bone-weary day, on that day where all the children are falling apart at the same time... during that night when the house is finally quiet... but is too quiet... On those days, the missionary lifestyle can be a struggle

Although there's a group of 700 people backing us from the USA (mostly), few of those individuals and churches can truly understand the daily stressors on the field.  There are currently around 6 missionary families in Gulu - the number changes monthly.  Each family is deeply involved in ministries - often very consuming ministries.  There are missionaries all over the world struggling with a similar issue: a sense of isolation. Missionaries sometimes feel isolated in their struggles.  Some missionaries struggle to find a Bible-preaching church or ARE the only source of Bible teaching in a given field.  Some missionaries find that their sending agency doesn't understand the issues on the field and gives them directives that they cannot follow.  Some missionaries struggle to find friends that they can confide in. Pray for your missionaries that they would trust in the sufficiency of Christ, that they would rest in the finished work of Christ, and that God would provide for e

I haven't written a "cultural" post in a long time - everything seems normal to me, so I have to remind myself of what might be of interest to readers who are wondering what missionary life is like in Uganda. But our recent trip to Kampala is probably interesting to you... We had to go to Kampala to renew Ana's passport - yes, my cutie is 5 years old! 5 years ago we took her to Kenya so her passport still had a baby photo in it. So a 7 hour drive to renew her passport... Unfortunately, Micah's birth certificate (a twenty step process) is still in progress so we weren't going to be able to do his registration of birth abroad and passport application, which would mean that both parents and Micah would have to go again to the embassy.  'sigh' We left Gulu before dawn and carefully picked our way over the road in the dawn light.  The road close to Gulu is really in terrible condition - down to one corroded lane that is almost more potholes than road.  

We've been on the field for nearly a year and a half - feels like only months and yet a lifetime... We've missed countless birthday parties and a few funerals.  We have yet to lay eyes on two new nephews and a few "pseudo" nieces and nephews.  We aren't involved in the day-to-day lives of our families.  We don't get to go see a house that sister is considering buying.  We haven't met the new boyfriend.  We don't get to help clean up mom and dad's yard after the big storm or shovel out the car for them. Our children are growing up without family bearing witness.  We left the USA when our second youngest child was still a baby.  He will visit the USA as a talking child complete with his own well developed personality.  We'll visit the USA in a few years with two new children who will experience the USA and our friends and family for the first time. This separation from family is so difficult.  Missionaries miss weddings, funerals, babies, g

Many of you read my blog to get a glimpse into what it's like to be a missionary family.  I want to write a series of blogs on the struggles of being a missionary as well as the blessings of being a missionary.  I will, by no means, be able to cover all struggles and blessings... but my hope is that this series will give you a glimpse into how to pray for your missionaries.  You may find that missionary struggles and blessings are no different from yours! One of the biggest struggles that missionary families share in common is protecting their children on the field.  Even an area that is no more dangerous than inner-city Chicago is foreign and the dangers are unknown. Diseases are serious and unknown.  Medical care is often lacking.  Parents have to be everything for their children instead of parents being able to pass some things off to others.  Parents have to decide when to vaccinate their children and for what and sometimes have to give them the vaccines themselves.  Parent

On particularly exhausting days of mothering, I complain, "the children have been trying to kill themselves all day!" Jumping off ledges, playing barefoot where there might be snakes, climbing on furniture, you know what I'm talking about. Children find every single potential hazard. Over the last couple weeks, there has been one tragedy after another that I've become aware of - children dying.  Parents grieving. Try as we may, as parents, we cannot protect our children from everything - choking on food, car accidents, furniture falling, seizures in the night, malaria... God frequently reminds me that HE is sovereign. HE is bigger than everything. HE never falls asleep.  I could be the most inattentive mother in the world or the most attentive mother in the world, yet HIS will be done.  He holds each of my little ones in His hand and nothing can take Him by surprise. Someday, I'll record my thoughts on why bad things happen even to little children.  But fo

It's inevitable.  The calendar shifts from the old year to the new year and you can't help but reminisce. A year ago, we had three children in our family. A year ago, we were the newbies on the mission field. A year ago, we didn't have a church home in Gulu. A year ago, we rarely had electricity, reliable internet, cheese, or running water. So much happens in a year's time... and yet, in the scheme of eternity, what is a year? A year from now, I could be looking at my life from heaven, wondering how I possibly thought that a year was of any significance. So this year, I'm not making "new year's resolutions." Rather, I'm continuing with my struggle to make more of Christ and less of me.  Granted, I'm determined to struggle harder, but today is the same as yesterday as I plod forward, fighting the sin that so easily entangles me, clinging to grace, and praying for Christ to be evident in me.