Rattins living Coram Deo

Every tribe in Uganda has different food preferences, but they tend to revolve around these basics.  Boarding school students (i.e. the vast majority of secondary school students) generally eat posho and beans daily except for a Sunday portion of meat.  Imagine eating the same food for every meal! "Food" is the starch while everything else is the "soup" that goes with the food.  Generally a large quantity of the starch is portioned out with a smaller quantity of the soup. "Foods" include: White sweet potato (peeled and boiled) Cassava/manioc (as chips) Irish potatoes (peeled and boiled) White maize ( posho  - as a loaf of sticky "bread") Millet ( atapa or kalo - as a loaf of sticky "bread") Matoke /green plantain (best when steamed in banana leaves) Rice The "soup" includes a wide variety of ingredients in these categories: Greens Beans Cabbage Peanuts - ground into flour or paste depending on the tribe M...

Uganda facts Kampala is the capital of Uganda. The Ugandan shilling is the currency used here (currently 3800 UGX to 1 USD). The official languages include English and Swahili, but people also speak Luganda and various other languages (like Acholi). The life expectancy in Uganda is 50.4 years. Uganda is a landlocked country bordered by Kenya in the east, Sudan in the north, Democratic Republic of the Congo in the west, Rwanda in the southwest and Tanzania in the south. Uganda’s total land area is 241,559 sq km. About 37,000 sq km of this area is occupied by open water while the rest is land. The southern part of the country includes a substantial portion of Lake Victoria, which it shares with Kenya and Tanzania. Uganda is located on the East African plateau, averaging about 1,100 meters (3,609 ft) above sea level. The plateau generally slopes downwards towards Sudan explaining the northerly tendency of most river flows in the country. Although generally equatorial, the clim...

Please read this post as a means of introduction to this series . What is an orphan? In the west, an orphan is generally viewed as a child who has neither mother nor father.  In fact, dictionaries define an orphan as a child without parents or a child deprived of parental care.  Therefore, sponsors, prospective adoptive families, philanthropists, churches, short term volunteers, even many mission boards are convinced that when they are supporting or adopting "an orphan" the child must surely be a true orphan.  It has been shown that the majority of the world's orphans have families and the majority of children in orphanages have families. The word orphan has morphed in much of Africa to include a much broader category of child. When a child is "an orphan" here, his mother might be bringing him to the office as an orphan to see about getting assistance with his school fees. An "orphan" might be brought to an orphanage by an "uncle" (w...

We are in a new era of missions. Facebook, Voxer (our current favorite), Skype, Google Hangouts, Magic Jack, blogs... We can stay in touch with our families in real time.  They can be here in 30 hours (best case scenario).  We could be there in 30 hours (you know, if all our children has passports and stuff - little details). In the past year, nearly every missionary that I know has had a parent visit. This is a different era of missions. Parents of missionaries live a unique life.  Their hearts are partially in a country they have never inhabited.  Their grandkids are growing in a culture foreign to their own.  They take a month off work and cross the globe with the goal of LITERALLY snuggling their grandchildren for 3 weeks straight. They drop their life to rush to the aid of their children in crisis - not unlike any parent in the West, except that such a selfless act costs thousands of dollars instead of a drive to New Hampshire. They encourage ...

I know I promised a blog series... oh four months ago... I WILL write it.  But life is so hectic here and blogging is emotionally stressful... My mental, physical, and emotional energy went elsewhere. Last week, missionary friends here in Uganda were in a devastating car crash on our horrible roads.  Their one month old baby died in the crash.  The mom has significant injuries and is in a Ugandan hospital trying to recover and find her way through the veil of grief. Today, I got a phone call (I'm a doctor) asking for advice on a little girl who was caught in a brush fire.  She is burned over 100% of her body and fighting for her life. We prayed for both situations with our children.  And I hugged them a little longer at bedtime and prayed over them again.  And kissed my special needs daughter more, memorizing her smile and her lovey eyes a little longer. The children's favorite song is "ashen bla blesho"... or, to translate from their gibberish "Abs...

"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 a...

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...

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'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 ...

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.  ...

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 gu...

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 BE...