Dancin' On Rainbows

I Think I Can't

2012-01-24T23:09:00.006-06:00

“I think I can, I think I can…” is the oft’ repeated refrain of The Little Engine that Could, a favorite children’s story. I found myself repeating that phrase over and over a few weeks ago on the first snowy day of the year as I tried to drive my van up the big hill between school and home. It took more than a positive attitude to make the hill, however. It took a full twelve minutes of bald tires spinning repeatedly against packed snow, making only inches of progress at a time. Upon reaching the top I drove directly to the shop to get new tires.

Today, as I was reading Exodus, another repeated refrain grabbed my attention. “I am the Lord.” This is the answer God gives over and over again, as Moses struggles with his own incompetency and the “what ifs” of his assignment to convince Pharaoh to let the Israelites leave Egypt in order to worship God.

With the narrative removed, the conversation between Moses and Pharaoh goes something like this:

“I am the Lord. Go speak to Pharaoh, saying ‘let my people go.’”

“But I am a poor speaker. How will Pharaoh hear me?”

“I am the Lord.”

“But Pharaoh won’t listen to me.”

“I am the Lord.”

“But Pharaoh will bring more harm to my people.”

“I am the Lord. Go speak to Pharaoh, saying ‘let my people go.’”

“But I am a poor speaker.”

“I am the Lord.”

Wouldn’t you think Moses would finally get it? It’s not about him and his shortcomings. It’s about God.

One biblical expositor, Gill, expands on what God packed into that oft’ repeated phrase: “Jehovah, the self-existent Being, the Being of beings, the everlasting I am, the unchangeable Jehovah, true, firm, and constant to his promises, ever to be believed, and always to be depended on.”

In other words, “I am the Lord,” is all Moses needed to know -all he needed to complete each assignment.

Likewise, “I am the Lord” is all I need to know. So often I worry that I am not the right person for the tasks God has called me to do. I don't feel adequate, and when I try to accomplish things in my own strength, they fail. Wouldn't you think, after all my "tire spinning" I would finally get it?

Instead of “I think I can,” I may as well declare right from the start, “I think I can’t" ...while remembering that God can.

“For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:13 (NLT)

I Had a Dream (with apologies to Martin Luther King Jr.)

2012-01-16T13:36:00.009-06:00

Some people dream in color. I dream in attitude.

I got to sleep in a bit this morning, thanks to the famous and admirable dreamer, Martin Luther King Jr. In my last hazy moments of semi-consciousness I heard myself snipping, “I’ll show you!” in the sassy tone of a thirteen year old. Never mind that it concerned a meatloaf too large for the pan I was trying to use. (A dream interpreter would no doubt deduce that I need a bit more excitement in my life.)

I awoke to the sound of hubby rattling around in the kitchen and immediately felt the urge to snip at him for making all that noise, but then I realized that he had already let me sleep much later than I needed, and the sounds were of him making coffee for the two of us –hardly anything to complain about. Still, I toyed with the idea of delivering a few choice sarcastic remarks as soon as I saw him. The attitude had a firm grip on me.

I began to ponder just where the attitude was coming from - from the hallways at school, perhaps, or maybe from watching teen themed movies recently –one at the theater, and a couple on television. Maybe I had some unresolved resentment tucked away in the corners of my heart. Whatever the source, I decided that I needed to pray before stepping one foot out of bed, or else the attitude revealed in my dream would command the rest of my day.

As I prayed, asking God to redirect my thoughts and take control of my tongue, He brought a verse to mind –one that gripped my heart as I spoke it aloud, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength and my Redeemer.” (Psalm 19:14 KJV). As I rose from my bed praying that Scripture, I felt the attitude melt into a puddle that I was able to step out of and leave behind as I went out to face my dear husband and the remainder of the day.

Now the verse that came to mind wasn’t one I had read or thought of recently, but one I had memorized as a child. This realization brought to mind another verse, “Your word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against you.” (Psalm 119:11 KJV) I am so thankful for the time I spent memorizing scripture when I was young. The Holy Spirit brings those scriptures to mind at just the right time to comfort, delight, direct –and yes, even to change the attitude.

I hope you find some help and encouragement in what I have shared today. Now it’s time to decide what’s for dinner. For some strange reason, I’m thinking meatloaf…

Two Years Converged...

2012-01-01T14:01:00.009-06:00

Two years converged at midnight’s stroke:
One behind, and one before;
One spent, and one as yet unsullied;
One known, and one a mystery to be unraveled;
One polished (however imperfectly), and
One plump with possibilities.

Once again we held our traditional New Year’s Eve party with a fine group of long-time friends. The tradition began when all of our kids were small -they are now all grown, many with families of their own, as this recent photo of our family demonstrates!

We have a long history of family campouts, game nights, and New Year's Eves spent with the same dear friends. Most years have been good years. Each of our families have grown, spread, and multiplied. We know we have been blessed beyond measure.

This year two of our friends face serious health problems. They both came to the party, encouraging us all with unfaltering faith and positive spirit. I can’t help but wonder what lies ahead for them in 2012 –what lies ahead for each of us, really. I want to hold another party next New Year’s Eve. I want these stoic friends to be here celebrating with us. I want to praise God for answered prayers. In short, I don’t want much to change. But change is the only thing that’s certain in this life, so I know that eventually unwelcome change will come –if not in 2012, then in the years following. This thought could cause me to worry, to become weary, or even to give up altogether.

How comforting, then, are the words of Isaiah 40:28:

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.

During the coming year when I am tempted to grow anxious, weary, or tired, I can simply call on the Great I AM: the One unaffected by time, unchanged by circumstance; the One who understands the “whys” and “why nots” that puzzle the rest of us; the One who mercifully gives us new years and fresh starts. Here I must add a quote I read today by Thomas a Kempis in The Imitation of Christ:

Vanity it is to wish to live long, and to be careless to live well.

Father, grant me your endurance and strength; let me lean wholly on You in the days and weeks ahead. Make each moment of 2012 count. May I live well and reflect Your glory and grace through every triumph and trial; through each change and circumstance. Amen.

A Happy and blessed New Year to each of you who are faithful followers of Dancin' on Rainbows, as well as to those of you visiting for the first time! I can't believe it's been three and a half months since I last posted! Being a better, more faithful blogger is one of my New Year's Resolutions. What are you resolved to do differently in 2012?

Recovering, Retracing, and Reflecting

2011-09-15T16:44:00.048-05:00

A view of Kampala, capital city of Uganda

This post covers our final week in Uganda: three days spent recovering from malaria, and the remainder of the time retracing our route back through Tororo, Kampala, Entebbe, and finally home. As I walked through these final days I found myself reflecting on God's direction and purposes demonstrated to us and worked in and through us, as well. I hope you enjoy this final leg of the trip.

16 July, 2011

Having malaria gives me empathy for all the children we have seen suffering with it. Many of them still go to school and few can afford treatment, other than the plants that have been found to relieve symptoms. Ironically, Simon pointed these out to me on our hike up to Sipi Falls.

We had hoped to go back to the school today, and now our hopes are pinned on Monday. We have some business to take care of there and things that we left behind need to be organized. We also have blessing bags for the board members and gifts of clothing for the teacher’s children. At the moment we don’t even have the strength to put them together.

John is taking good care of Denise and me. We are both very thankful to have him here, especially because we are on the 5th floor with no elevators. Sarah checks in on us regularly and gets us what we need from town. She often sits with Denise to give her company. Our other Ugandan friends call to check on us as well. The hotel staff has been very gracious, saying, “Sorry, sorry,” when they see us. We know we are being prayed for and we have the best care available.

18 July, 2011

It has now been three full days of sitting around the hotel feeling awful. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've had more sleep in the past three days than I had in the whole two weeks before I got sick! Since I started treatment almost immediately after symptoms began I was expecting to bounce back more quickly, so when I awoke still sick this morning I was discouraged. Denise was feeling better, but not well enough to travel. If you knew what the trip to KPS is like, you would understand! Besides, it took everything we had in us last night just to put together the blessing bags and clothing for John to take to the school.

We sent John off to finish up the business at the school this morning, and the new teachers we hired for the school came to the hotel along with Harriet, a new assistant for Sarah, our board chairwoman. When they realized we were sick they wanted to pray over both Denise and me individually. Wow! What passion and fervency we each experienced! The tears flowed freely, and I think with that came a bit of strength. I was later able to ride in a car to a dressmaker's shop and buy what must be the only "night dress" in Mbale! I have been sleeping in John's t-shirts, and wanted a nightgown so bad! I had asked several where one could be found, and nobody seemed to know.

Christine, a lady from the UK who works in prison ministry here, and her friend Steve, took me to this woman's shop. When I asked about a night dress, she said she only had one. I tried it on and it fit!

"I think it has my name on it," I said.

"For a child of the King there are only Divine appointments," she replied. Although it is typical of the kind of faith we observe among believers here each and every day, I will never forget her comment, and I will always treasure my precious Divinely appointed nightgown!

John is back from the school, having finished all of his assignments. I am feeling better at the moment -it comes and goes. I have only had watermelon and Sprite today. When we asked for watermelon last night they said they didn't have any. Quite a while later they appeared with some at our door, apparently having gone to the market to buy it! The hotel personnel have been accommodating.

I have a humorous room service story, however. Last night John ordered a pizza, and it arrived with two missing pieces. The temptation must have been too much for someone -we hope they enjoyed it! To repeat our now often-used expression, "TIA -This is Africa." This story will go in our list of TIA anecdotes!

In case you are supposing that we are miserable here and missing home, I need to let you know: the weather reports I have seen from Iowa make me want to stay in Africa. It is currently only 72 degrees in our non-air conditioned room on the 5th floor! We have a fan and a gentle cross-breeze. During the night it gets a little chilly and we have to close the windows. It rains a little bit most days, but the rain has never interfered with our activities. A wedding took place on the grounds next to us from Saturday morning until 3:00 am on Sunday with lots of music, drums, trilling, and dancing. It rained hard a couple of times, but the party went on and on!

Each time I come to Uganda it seems that God gives me a passage of Scripture for the trip. This time the passage He put on my heart was Psalm 103. I have found it applicable on many occasions throughout the trip, but last night when I was feeling very low I asked John to read it to me. It then occurred to me that God knew I would need reminding on this trip that He "heals all our diseases" and that "He knows our frame and remembers that we are dust!" Oh boy, do I feel like dust! It has filled me with contentment. He is as near to me here as He would be anywhere. I know there have been many prayers on Denise's and my behalf, so I have to believe that He has allowed this illness for a reason, and His healing will come in His time and in His way.

21 July, 2011

We have been on the move the past few days, and our activity has required every ounce of strength in my being. Denise and I got rechecked and got some new medications before we left Mbale on Tuesday. We went to an American-run children’s hospital for this. Dr. Derek who had visited us at the hotel is the executive director of this Christian hospital. When we arrived the staff was finishing morning devotions and they continued humming and singing hymns as they checked us over. It was quite reassuring and soothing. Our blood tests came back negative for malaria, but we were told to rest for another 24 hours.

We didn't exactly follow the doctor's advice. Although we didn’t feel up to it, we stopped at Royal Palace School on the way to Tororo and handed out clothing and bags. First, we visited each humble classroom at the school that has swelled to qround 150 students.

Then Denise and I sat on chairs and handed out clothing and school bags to each class as they passed by.

John was kept busy toting suitcases and even helping to dress the younger children.

We overexerted ourselves –sweat poured from us -but the joy expressed by the children and staff was worth it. Pastor Stephen and his wife said it was like Christmas for the kids. They had never had such a thing done for them, and they were so excited that much of the community even gathered around, peeking in the gates to see what was going on.

We settled in at the Prime Hotel once again. Wednesday we felt better and accomplished many things in Tororo. First, we met with the Minister of Education and the Inspector of Schools for the area to discuss holding a teacher conference next year. They were enthusiastic about the conference held in 2010, and were happy to hear that we have plans to do another one. They had some good suggestions for topics, as well.

Next, we visited Agururu Primary School –a government school that accepts students with special needs. Some of their teachers had attended last year’s conference and requested a visit from us. We didn’t know what to expect, but we were pleasantly surprised. The headmaster took us on a tour of the school, visiting each classroom. We had a delightful visit!

The students seemed happy and were accommodated as well as could be expected. Many of the special needs students board at the school, but the living area is lacking.

After praying about it we returned the following day and left money for the school to purchase mattresses, bedding and mosquito nets, as there were children in need of these essentials.

We also returned to Smile Africa, where we visited Pastor Ruth’s mother and gave the adolescents book bags filled with some self-care items (including sewing kits, washcloths, lotion, toothbrushes, New Testaments, etc.)

We also gave a monetary gift to each of the staff members, who were extremely happy and grateful. They all remembered John from his Fist Aid class, and some of the teachers even call him, “Dad.”

Pastor Ruth invited us for dinner at her house that evening, and we enjoyed delicious food plus a relaxing time with Ruth and baby Esther -a delightful one year old who was rescued as a newborn from the garbage of a slum by Pastor Ruth a year ago.

Ruth's husband Basil, Pastor Stephen, and some men from Hope 4 Children joined us for dinner as well.

Today (Thursday) was our morning to finish up business in Tororo. Denise wanted to stop at a purse shop we had passed every day “just for fun.” The owner of the shop was so excited when we each bought a purse! She said that she had just finished her morning devotions and had prayed that God would send her a special blessing that day. She showed us where she had put her Bible just as we drove up. She was convinced that we were the answer to her prayers!

John had been eyeing the fire department all week, so we stopped in to take a picture of him with a Ugandan fire truck. The firemen were so excited to meet him! They all wanted their picture taken with him, and they also requested copies of the pictures!

We said our goodbyes to Pastor Ruth and Pastor Stephen began driving us back to Kampala.

Pastor Ruth had informed us over dinner that she had received a limited time offer to buy 500 Bibles just released by the Bible Society of Uganda in the Karamajong language. She has pastors who travel to Karamoja to take the Gospel to this primitive, violent people. So after discussing and praying about it we decided we could come up with the money needed to purchase these, and Denise called her to tell her. She was giddy with excitement!

When we reached Kampala, we went to the Bible House and met with the associate director and the Karamajong project leader, who welcomed us as only Ugandans can, and discussed many aspects of their ministry with us. They were so pleased to be able to distribute these Bibles through Pastor Ruth (the men knew her), as they know that the Bibles won’t be given as “objects” but as the Word of God. They will be given with prayer, a message, and instruction for their use. In the end the Bibles cost even less than what we were expecting–equivalent to a little less than $2.00 each! What a deal! Do you suppose God had a hand in that? The Bibles will be delivered to Tororo.

We stopped at a market to do a little shopping before checking in at Lubowa Gardens, our starting place, and having a delicious dinner of sizzling chicken and beef.

POSTSCRIPT:

On Friday, 22 July, we went to the Entebbe Zoo. It was good to be out and feeling almost normal. The zoo itself wasn’t impressive, but we had a good time there with Saphan, Alex, Alvin, and Elvis (the boys are pictured below).

We arranged to meet Agnes of Early Learning Center, and found ourselves at the site of a guest house and coffee shop her husband is building on the shore of Lake Victoria. It was a lovely place to sit and visit for a while.

We discussed holding a teacher conference in Entebbe, and Agnes agreed to help us with that. We gave her our remaining clothing for her Early Learning Center students, some of whom are refugees or children of prisoners. It was great fun spreading a little more love and joy.

Saturday was our last day to wake up in Uganda, and the day we headed back to the U.S.

I snapped these last photos of the gorgeous bougainvillea planted around Lubowa Gardens. Breathtaking!

We left the hotel near noon for our grueling return trip -3 hours to Addis Ababa, 17 hours to Washington DC, a 6 hour layover in DC, 3 hours to Chicago, and then a 5 hour car ride home. Of course there were several hours between flights, as well. In all, the trip was nearly 40 hours long!

A young man named Chester sat by me on the long flight to DC. A teacher from Cameroon, he was chosen to teach math in a South Carolina high school for the next three years. He had never traveled out of his own community, and was both excited and anxious. Throughout the flight he would say, “Mom? Mom? What does this mean?” or some similar question. When we got to DC John and I invited him to go with us through immigration and customs, then we steered him in the right direction for his connecting flight. He was in awe of Dulles airport. "Is the what all U.S. airports are like?" he asked. We assured him that for the most part they differ only in size. He is in for some culture shock!

We were quite tired by the time Tristan and Robin met us in Chicago, but we both stayed awake until we picked up our car (now with a new transmission) in the Quad Cities. It was Tristan and Robin’s anniversary, so we ate with them, but decided that neither of us were in good enough shape to drive. Each of them drove a car while both of us slept the remainder of the way home.

HGEA’s July 2011 trip to Uganda officially came to an end near midnight Sunday, July 24th. Many significant, amazing, unbelievable things took place, and we were blessed beyond words. None of it would have been possible without all the support of our friends and prayer warriors. We thank God for our supporters daily and ask Him to bless you for your compassion and generosity toward the people of Uganda. As Pastor Ruth often remarks, “They will never be the same!”

If you are interested in contributing toward next year's trip, please visit my Heart of God East Africa Donor Page!

Sipi Falls: A Day of Reflection and Refreshment

2011-09-11T21:19:00.028-05:00

15 July, 2011

Most of the team will be leaving tomorrow. Only John, Denise, and I will remain. This day was planned for winding down, enjoying some of Africa's God-created beauty, and debriefing. Denise was not feeling well this morning. She skipped breakfast, but boarded the bus with the rest of us when we left for Sipi Falls.

I knew that we would travel back toward the school to get to the falls, but I didn’t realize how far up the mountain we would be going, or how grueling the trip would be, even in a relatively comfortable bus!

When we stopped at the lodge near Sipi Falls and I stood to leave the bus I felt achy, especially in my hips and legs. I shrugged it off (attributing it to the long bus ride); took a couple of Advil; told myself that exercise would do me good; and volunteered to join the group climbing up to the Falls.

I never regretted making the hike, but I was immediately grateful for the young man who came from nowhere to hold my hand, help me up and over the rough spots, and stop my feet from slipping at the end when rain began to fall. Simon was his name. He told me that he loves Jesus, and his favorite Bible story is Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt -quite appropriate, I thought, since he made a fine leader, himself!

We crossed a rickety bridge and climbed up to the falls for some photos underneath.

Next, we climbed up above the falls for some breathtaking views.

We crossed a stream and passed through a village. As we started descending toward the road a light rain began to fall and the paths became slippery. The guides began dispersing as soon as we got to the road. We thanked Simon and gave him a nice tip for his assistance.

Some villagers were washing clothing in the stream.

We ordered lunch when we got back to the lodge, but it seems they ran out of food before ours was made. Many commented on how good the soup was, but I wasn’t too disappointed, as I was more tired than hungry.

We sat around a large table and Denise drew random questions to ask each team member. It was a good time of reflection on the past two weeks and all the ministries we had been a part of. Both laughter and tears erupted throughout the afternoon as we remembered and shared our special memories.

After the debriefing session and once the rain had stopped, I walked around and took pictures. It was a perfect setting for appreciating God’s handiwork.

On the way back down the mountain Denise became so ill she asked the bus driver to stop, and she went to the nearest house along the way, asking to use their “facilities.” These, of course, were very crude. It was a difficult thing for her to do, but not much choice. She was quite sick!

I fell asleep along with most of the rest of the team on the way home. Someone snapped this photo, which pretty much says it all!

When we arrived at the hotel, I awoke and immediately realized that I had a high fever and now ached all over.

Sarah, the board chairwoman for King’s Primary School, called an American doctor to come to the hotel and see us. He made calls to see who was working at the hospital and made arrangements for us to have lab tests. Denise and Wendy tested positive for Malaria. The assumption is that I have it too, since I have all the symptoms. Most likely it didn’t show up in me yet, since my symptoms just started this evening. Yes, we were all taking our anti-malarial medicine, but apparently it isn’t 100% effective.

My teeth chattered as I began chilling on the way home from the hospital. Then I shook uncontrollably. My legs felt like rubber bands as I tried to climb the five flights of stairs to our room. John had stayed behind at the hospital to pay my bill. He was a little concerned about whether or not he would have enough money, but the total bill for three blood tests, an emergency room visit, lab results, and medicine was around $15!

It all seems unreal, but I feel so good about the care we received. Sarah and Dr. Derek were amazing, and the hospital staff was kind and efficient, too. Sanitary procedures were followed, as well. God has already shown his love, care, and provision. I think I can trust Him to get me through this!

I feel so bad for Wendy having to travel to Entebbe and then begin the grueling flight back to the US throughout tomorrow and the next day. At least she will now be on medicine. She will definitely be in our prayers!

Of Chickens, Children, and Charity

2011-08-31T20:36:00.035-05:00

13 July, 2011

I have begun singing hymns and praise songs during the 1 ½ to 2 hour bus ride to and from the school. It passes the time and sets the tone for the day. Others join in and sing along or make requests. It is uplifting to join our voices in praise of our Heavenly Father!

Today was a big day at the school. A meeting was held for the families and the community. A cow was purchased with some funds given in advance of our trip by several who wanted to provide food for the children. It was butchered at the school this morning and cooked in preparation. All the children, teachers, and meeting attendees were fed beef, beans, rice, and soda –nearly 800 people in all! Who knew that one cow could feed so many? Andrea spent the night at the school in the teacher’s quarters in anticipation of the early morning activities. Although she didn’t sleep well, she loved witnessing the preparations and being involved in the food preparation.

The teachers were busy with various things as well, and the electrical project required that some classes leave their classrooms and meet jointly, so Wendy and I filled in teaching some classes throughout the morning, often without a classroom teacher present. The children were well behaved and responsive, even without an interpreter. I had such a fun time teaching in the P2 classes especially. One student threw up in class so I had to leave to find help. In lieu of antimicrobial dust, they threw handfuls of dirt over it, and then swept it up –worked just as well, surprisingly.

All the activity must have ruffled the chickens' feathers as well. I did a double-take this morning as I passed the Head Teacher's office, and just had to take time to snap the picture at the top of this page!

The students had been instructed to bring a dish from home to use for lunch, so when it was time for them to be served they lined up with their dishes to get their food.

Although they were all excited about today’s offerings, it saddened me to realize that this meal is by far the exception. Most days the students don’t eat lunch at all. We hope to start up a regular food program but there are several issues to address –funding being one of them. We don’t want to start something we can’t continue.

The meeting began with the singing of three anthems –the Uganda National Anthem, the Welsh National Anthem, and our own “Star Spangled Banner.” Sarah addressed many issues with the parents, requesting their help and participation in assisting with their children’s education, health, and general welfare.

The main topic on the agenda was the announcement that we (Heart of God East Africa) are now partnering with EZRA in operating King’s Primary School. We have been working toward this day for over a year (perhaps you recall my trip to Wales that I blogged about in February) and we are all very excited about this! Our proposal to acquire enough land to build a secondary school was also presented, and those who would be involved in the land proposal were asked to meet further and discuss this possibility. The area currently has no secondary schools, and some KPS students have passed their exams. Without a school in the area, they most likely will not be able to further their education, due to the cost involved.

Bunambutye’s mayor addressed the group, praising both EZRA and Heart of God for the impact they have had in the community and in the lives of the families and children. He then said that he was considering becoming a Christian! When he finished speaking, Sarah encouraged him to do so, but added, “We hope you are serious, because we don’t take such things lightly!”

I quietly slipped out of the meeting before it ended in order to assist with clothing and school bag distribution to the students. Some of the other team members had sorted out shorts and dresses by sizes.

As they finished their meal, each class walked through the library to select the appropriate sized clothing.

The children were thrilled with their new clothing and school bags!

When the meeting ended we asked the mothers of infants and toddlers to remain behind, and we gave them clothing for their children, as well.

All in all, it was a wonderful day! It was such a blessing to share God's love with the students and their families through the clothing and other gifts contributed by so many friends back home. The joy and encouragement these people feel when they receive such gifts is indescribable. The day at the school ended with a soccer match, but unfortunately we had to leave before it ended.

When we were about halfway back to the hotel a rainbow stretched across the entire horizon and remained constant until sunset. I saw it as God’s signature of approval on the merging of Heart of God East Africa, EZRA, and King’s Primary School, and His promise for an even brighter future.

14 July, 2011
Today was our last day to work at the school as a team. In fact, it was our last ministry day. We will spend Friday debriefing, and most of the team will leave Saturday morning.

Some of the classes were combined again, so I decided to reread “Three Billy Goats Gruff” to both P1 classes. I then told them it is a Norwegian folk tale, and I showed them on an inflatable globe where Norway, Uganda, Wales, and the USA are. I then proceeded to talk about some differences between Uganda and Norway. The children seemed interested, but one of the teachers told me afterward that they were too young to understand about globes and other countries. I told her that I even use a globe in my preschool classes, and she would be surprised how much they understand!

I also read another story about a Ugandan family that receives a goat, Beatrice’s Goat. The same teacher mentioned above had a hard time translating, and even reading the story over my shoulder. The children were losing interest, so I began skimming through, leaving out some sections of the story. When I finished the teacher told me it was a very difficult story. This left me feeling sad, both for her and for the students. Again, it is a story that my preschoolers at home would understand and enjoy. On the other hand, these experiences have given me a much better feel for what some of the issues are facing both teachers and students in Uganda. It will greatly influence my planning of a teacher conference for next year.

Wendy began running a fever and feeling quite sick today, so she observed in the classroom I was in during the morning, and spent the rest of the day sleeping in the bus!

The students gathered under the giant tree (Baobab, I believe) just inside the front gate. Each class presented music, a skit, or a poem.

It was heartwarming and uplifting to hear their beautiful voices and see their smiles. Many of their songs are original, such as this one:

Because of the time spent with the children this week, individual personalities popped as they performed, and I found my heart swelling with love for these children. One student read a Bible passage from her Bible, the one she received from us on our first visit to King's Primary School in 2009.

I tried to smile and forget that this was farewell.

We passed out jump ropes and kites -an immediate hit.

We also filled bags with some personal items today -lotion, jewelry, ties, pens, pencils, soap, toothbrush, gum, etc., and gave one to each of the teachers. We heard many squeals of delight, just as we heard from the children yesterday!

Late in the afternoon many of us walked along Moroto Road into the community. We visited with several residents, friends and neighbors of the school. The benefits King’s Primary School has brought to the community has become apparent to all of us this week, and was reiterated as we spoke to the neighbors. Both Muslims and Christians live peacefully side by side, and both send children to the school. They are grateful for the gift of education and opportunity for a future that their children have received.

We met a man with 37 children and several wives. He has been generous to Mary in the past, and today offered her a chicken. She had to decline, since the hotel probably wouldn’t welcome it. We also met a bed builder, a family with eight children, whose house had burned down last week, and an old woman who is very sick and feeble. Arrangements will be made for her to see a doctor in Mbale.

The area is regularly plagued by both drought and torrential rains –either one or the other, it seems. There has been no food for many months, and two people in the village actually starved to death this week! The first harvest following the most recent drought is just beginning. Consequently, green tomatoes are being set out for sale –such is their desperation that they cannot even wait for them to ripen.

Besides weather related ills, the area has been hard hit by AIDS and ravaged by the Karamajong tribe.

John and I were able to finish up the First Aid/CPR class before leaving today. We felt good about this, and the participants were just as excited to receive their certificates as was the Smile Africa staff!

It was hard for us to leave the school today, knowing that it was the last day for the whole group to be there. John, Denise, and I plan to return, but it won’t be the same. An amazing amount of work has been accomplished this week, and the children and teachers have been blessed and encouraged. A library has been set up, teaching materials organized, showers are installed and functional, and the electrical work is well underway. We didn’t have nearly enough classroom time, as far as I’m concerned. Still, I feel that we learned a lot about the needs of both students and teachers here. Using what we have learned to improve education at King’s Primary School is a daunting and humbling task, but I am excited about the possibilities!

If you are reading these posts on Uganda, please tell me what surprises you, intrigues you, appalls you, delights you!

Also, be sure to check out our Heart of God East Africa website for more information and to find out how you can help provide food, clothing, and a better education for these precious children!

The King's Children

2011-08-23T22:54:00.030-05:00

11 July, 2011

We traveled to King’s Primary School, arriving over two hours after we started –just in time for the morning break. The attendance roster for today looked like this:

The children assembled, and when I came up and began removing Eli (my eagle puppet) from his bag they all cheered! Eli had a flashlight in his heart, and we talked about darkness and light, ending with the verse, “I am the light of the world, he who follows me will never walk in darkness.” (John 8:12)

The kids cheered again when Andrea and Emily started singing “King of the Jungle” with them. They remembered!

I was able to read “The Three Billy Goats Gruff” to classes P1a and P1b, and “Itsy Bitsy Spider” to P2a.

It was a long, slow process, with the teacher translating. Even though English is Uganda’s national language, most of the children and even some of the teachers don’t speak or understand it proficiently. None of the students are able to read the simple words in these books, however they enjoyed having their own books with pictures to look at, and they responded enthusiastically when I asked for picture clues. They also enjoyed the rhyme and repetition. We discussed many aspects of each story. I even gave a bridge illustration of the Gospel to the P1 classes. They are all absolutely convinced that trolls are real, despite my attempt to convince them otherwise!

The rest of the team worked so hard today! They hauled rock in wheelbarrows and lined the walkways with it.

John and Aaron assisted Kermit and Bryan with the electrical work, while Gideon, a Ugandan electrician who will resume the work after we leave, worked alongside them, installing the conduit and underground cable that will carry electricity to all the school buildings.

Andrea and Wendy both taught in the classrooms. Sylvia began teaching some of the older girls to sew so that they can repair uniforms.

The group interacted with the older students from 4:00 to 5:00, playing games and initiating discussions...

...while John and I began teaching 1st Aid to the teachers and board members, who were all enthusiastic about the class.

We returned late and were unable to clean up before we had our dinner at 7:30. Dinner was a buffet of spaghetti, rice, beef stew, tiny pieces of foul that Denise called “hummingbird wings,” and fruit. By the time we got finished it was late and we all still had to take showers and wash our clothes because we were very dirty. Traveling causes the dust to permeate our clothing, hair, ears, noses, etc.
It was such a good and rewarding day, however. I was re-energized for the week ahead.

12 July, 2011

We returned to King’s Primary School. We see such interesting and beautiful sights along the way.

Normally I wouldn't consider this a beautiful sight, but it was thrilling to see newly strung power lines along the road to the school. It may still take several months for power to actually flow through these lines, but the electrical work our team is beginning will eventually come to fruition!

Andrea and Wendy resumed their work in the classrooms. Others organized teacher resources and art supplies in cupboards (a much needed activity), and the electrical work continued as well. Sean and Bobby began installing a shower for the teachers who live at the school. There is now plumbing, although these showers will be crude. The only toilets are squatty-potties. One is reserved for the visitors (us),someone is taking extra care to keep it as clean as a squatty-potty can be.

I spent the day interviewing teachers -12 of them, to be exact. Four have just completed their probationary period, and we chose to retain three of them. The others were applying for two new positions. The school’s four Ugandan board members, along with Jan, Denise, Mary, Allwyn and I interviewed them about the teaching position, but only after Jan and Carole had interviewed them regarding their salvation and spiritual life. Unfortunately, the only photos I took were while we were eating!

It was a long day, and quite emotional, too. I learned so much about the lives of teachers in Uganda. Like most American teachers I know, they are passionate about what they do –they truly love teaching. They work hard for little pay, however, and in many cases some ended up not being paid at all in their former positions. Like most Ugandan primary schools, KPS students attend school from 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Monday through Saturday. Many of the teachers at KPS leave their spouse and children behind to live at the school. Some bring their families along, but the living quarters are small and the school so remote that transportation can become difficult and expensive.

The students grow produce that feeds the teachers, and they also draw water for the teachers at the end of the school day.

It was Allwyn's birthday, so in his honor Scott went to the village and hired someone to make about 50 chapatis (fried flatbread). We shared these among the team, all the teachers, and the teacher applicants.

At the end of the day all the interviewers met together and learned that we were in perfect agreement! We had all selected the same two applicants. Isn’t that just how the Holy Spirit works when He’s invited to participate? Amazing! Transportation was arranged for all the applicants, and they were told that they would each be notified the following day whether or not they were hired. Our board chairwoman gave them a very gracious speech about God’s will and direction for their lives, and told them we wish them all well.

We finished with the interviews late, so John and I weren’t able to continue the 1st Aid class tonight.

Once again we were late returning to the hotel. We encounter many cattle herds along the road as we return home in the evening.

It makes the trip longer, but interesting as well. The traveling makes for long days with no margin. Still, there is no place I would rather be than at the school, and nothing I would rather be doing!

Tomorrow will be an exciting day at the school -a day of revelations and celebrations.

Belief, Baptism and Beauty

2011-08-09T10:18:00.032-05:00

9 July, 2011

Today was our Youth Conference day. We got a late start (as usual here in Uganda), arriving around 11:30 am. The Ugandan teens sang us in with some rousing songs of worship. Our team was introduced and then we presented for the first half of the program. John and I did a purity skit that was funny, at least John was funny, not to mention the fact that we were trying to pass ourselves off as teenagers! The kids responded enthusiastically! There were several other skits, games, and a pantomime during the song, “Everything” that was very touching and effective. Each of the team members had a part in planning and presenting something. Each of the activities clearly communicated a biblical truth applicable to teens and adults alike. Several of our youth gave their testimonies, and it was touching to hear about some of the difficult things they had faced in their lives, and what had brought them to this place.

Just before lunch I met a little six year old girl outside the hall and spoke to her. Her mother told me that she wanted to come to see the mzungus (us!). She was shy and didn’t respond when I tried to speak to her. Finally, I left them and went in to watch the program. Soon I heard sobbing behind me and turned around. The girl's mother explained, “She thinks she has insulted you by not giving an answer.” So I took the girl's hand and walked into the hall with her. Some music was starting, so I grabbed her other hand and danced with her -and that is how Mary Justine and I became best buddies for the remainder of the day!

She sat with me, played with me, cuddled on my lap with her head on my shoulder, and competed with her little sister for my attention. When she saw John she exclaimed, "that is a big one!" At the end of the day when it was time to leave she sobbed again, then said through her tears, “goodbye, Auntie.” What a little sweetie!

Lunch, consisting of rice, posho, beef, and beans was served with soda. When Pastor Ruth gave the instructions concerning the soda, she said that it would be served only when everyone was seated, and that none could be taken outside. “Are we together?” she asked. This would become a new mantra for the group: Are we together?

After lunch the Ugandan teens sang and performed some music and amazing traditional dances for us.

At the end of the teen rally Emily shared her testimony of coming to Christ during last year’s trip to Uganda. Then Scott gave an invitation and around 10 students came forward to accept Christ.

After the rally a bunch of kids gathered around Emily wanting to learn our songs, so she began singing them. Then Bryan, Andrea, and I joined in and sang through nearly all of them until it was time to leave. We left all of our song sheets with them.

All in all, the youth rally was fun and full of energy -a great day for all!

When we arrived back at the hotel, Joy (the manager) had her baby, Hannah, here -the one that was born shortly after we left last year. I came upstairs and got a baby doll I had brought along to give to her. She was scared of it! Her mom said it was because the face looked like her own. She was quite upset when her mom cuddled it like a baby, too!

Later (after my nap) her other children, Laura and Benjamin, came to meet me, too. Laura skillfully told me two stories from start to finish without stumbling or missing a beat -very impressive for a seven year old! I gave her a bracelet, gave Benjamin a football, and gave their cousin, Carolyn a jump rope. I also gave them each a plastic jumping spider. They are all delightful children!

Joy (the dress maker) came to the hotel to take measurements for garments any of us wanted to have tailored. I was measured for a dress, and John for a shirt.

Everyone was “up” at dinner time because of the fun, exciting day. Sommer (Denise’s daughter) announced at dinner that she accepted Christ today after the youth rally, and of course that only added to our joy and excitement!

We had a great dinner, and tomorrow we will divide up and attend several different churches in and around Tororo.

10 July, 2011

John, Kermit, Emily, and I piled into a tiny car with a pastor and one of his friends to attend our church service at Pastor Ologi’s church in Tororo.

Ologi's wife, Rose, is normally the choir director, but she was away at an uncle’s funeral. Still, they had many choirs sing for us –from the youngest all the way up. They also had an amazing keyboardist who could find whatever key the song leader decided to sing. The sound system was a bit annoying, though -their natural voices were strong and beautiful.

The worship music was amazing! They asked for each of us to speak. I shared Psalm 103:1 "Bless the Lord O my soul, and all that is within me bless His holy name." It struck me as I participated in the worship service that these people know how to bless the Lord "with all that is within them." We in America are rich in material things, but they carry their wealth -their exuberance, faith, and constant dependency on God with them -and it shows! I also shared how Romans 12:1 relates to this -presenting your body as a living sacrifice -viewing everything we do as a form of worship. I told them that this is my third trip to Uganda, and that I return because of my love for their country and especially for the people of their country. John came up as I was finishing, put his arm around me, and said, “my wife loves Uganda. Now I love Uganda and Ugandans.” Everyone clapped and cheered. Kermit and Emily spoke as well, with Emily sharing that she had accepted Christ in Uganda last year and was looking forward to being baptized here this afternoon. Clapping and cheering were resumed, and then we were treated to some more music.

As is the normal custom in Uganda, we were seated in front of the congregation, facing them. We were also provided with bottles of cold water (a luxury, since refrigeration is scarce). It is humbling to be treated with such hospitality by people so impoverished they can barely feed and clothe their children.

After the congregation was dispersed for lunch (Ugandans typically spend their entire Sunday in church) we sat under a tree and asked the pastor how we could pray for the church. He only had a few requests. They brought us bags of gifts –oranges, mangoes, pineapple, lemons, etc. Then they tried to give us money. We told them that they had already filled us up with the best gifts they could give –joy, love, peace, hospitality.

After church we went to the Prime and loaded up our things. Then we all went to the Tororo Pentecostal Church for a baptismal service.

The baptistery was a pit in the floor of the platform. Only a trickle of water was coming out of the spigot, so some young men carried large containers of water to pour in. The church's pastor read several passages on baptism and we prayed and sang together.

Then Scott and another pastor went into the water and baptized Emily first, then Sommer.

Around 20 Ugandans were baptized, too! If the Ugandan pastor didn’t think they got thoroughly dunked he pushed their head back in! Many of the young women were quite afraid of going under the water. I don't suppose many of them have learned to swim. All in all it was an awesome experience.

After the baptism we went to Joy’s dress shop downtown and chose our fabrics for our clothing.

Next, we loaded into the vans and headed off to Mbale. The road to Mbale is being repaved and there has been so much rain that it is in bad condition, so it took longer than usual, and was a rough ride.

John and I got a suite on the top floor of the Kayegi Hotel.

The views from the room are breathtaking! I say “views because we have windows on two sides!

Many beautiful plants and trees surround the hotel as well.

We will be staying here for 9 days, so we are pretty happy with the accommodations! It began raining tonight during dinner, and we are worried the roads to the school could be affected. We are praying that we can get through without any difficulty.

John shared an excellent devotional at dinner. First, he shared a passage from Colossians 2 on being grounded in our belief and prepared to teach. He then shared a passage from Proverbs on a wise woman building her house, and he discussed how Jan, Denise, Pastor Ruth, Mary, and I had used wisdom in building "houses" in our respective ministries. (It is interesting and inspiring for me that God has used so many women in this way, and that we have all joined together our passion, gifts, and eagerness to serve the King through these various ministries!)

John then shared the passage from Genesis 1 about God creating the plants and the beasts, as an acknowledgement of God as the creator of the beauty we are beholding each day in Africa. I think his devotional ties together well many of the experiences of these past several days. We have seen God bring many to belief in him, several have been obedient in baptism, we have participated in ministries built by wise women (and men) of God, and we have been inundated by the beauty of Africa.

Right now, at 10:50 pm I am hearing some interesting sounds –mooing of cows and howling of dogs! It is pleasantly cool, and I am extremely excited for tomorrow, yet still I have "miles to go before I sleep."

On to Tororo

2011-08-03T20:39:00.034-05:00

7 July, 2011

I awoke with some stomach issues. Feeling like that worried me, knowing that it was a traveling day. John was much more like himself today. I think he is finally over his jet lag.

Prayer partners are assigned for each day of the trip, and John and I felt as though we were walking on holy ground when we came upon the group shown above as they were praying for today.

We left Lubowa Gardens and Saphan and Alex today, piling into three vans –one for luggage and two for passengers. The vans coming to get us had started out at 4 am from Tororo, and we started back around 11. We stopped at Chicken on a Stick for lunch –quite an experience for everyone, even those who knew what to expect. John kept saying, “Golly Ned, Golly Ned!” The kids rush from all sides, surrounding the van, reaching in, holding their “offerings” of chicken, beef, goat, and gizzards in our faces. The chicken actually tasted delicious, even though I didn’t start the day out feeling well.

Further along the road the van ahead of us had a blowout! We heard a loud “Pop!” and they pulled over to the side, but not completely off the road. We pulled in off the road behind them. As some of us were exiting the van some loud honking came from the top of the hill behind us and the sight and smell of burning rubber filled the air. Two semi trucks were barreling down the hill side-by-side, headed straight for the other van. When they were even with us the semi in the outer lane pulled ahead and the one nearest us was able to swerve around. Black skid marks ended even with our van! (you can see them in the photo below)

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for protecting us all! God heard the prayers of this morning's prayer partners, and of all of those at home who were praying for us, too!

We were all amazed how quickly the drivers changed the van’s tire, and we were soon on the road again!

We stopped to see baboons and take pictures of them along the highway, then continued on and arrived at the Prime Hotel around 5.

Not long after the baboons we could see our landmark, Tororo Rock, in the distance. Here is how it looks from the Prime Hotel.

We were warmly greeted by the staff, many of whom recognized us. It was great seeing Joy, one of the managers who was so helpful with the teacher conference last year!

I also got acquainted with another manager, Susan, who was in the UK when we were here last year. She was an interesting person to talk to. She told me of her concern for protecting her children now that she’s back in Uganda. She intends to get her baby girl's ears pierced soon, because child traffickers apparently want girls without pierced ears. They also want boys who haven’t been circumcised, so many Ugandans circumcise their boys simply to protect them from child traffickers. Of course circumcision isn’t immediately observable, so according to Susan, sometimes boys are taken and then abandoned in the jungle! It is so sad to hear how the ugly business of child trafficking affects innocent children and their families.

Pastor Ruth came to meet us at the hotel later. It was amazing seeing her smile and feeling her hug! Kermit and Bryan also came down from Mbale to join us. We got to hear what they have been doing all week. They are getting things arranged at King’s Primary School for the electrical project.

8 July, 2011

What a great night’s sleep! I awoke feeling rested and with time to not only shower and dress, but also to do some laundry (in a wash basin on my hands and knees on the bathroom floor, of course).

Most of the men went to the youth center to hold a men’s conference today. We later learned that it went well and was very successful. One participant traveled from near Nairobi to attend! Many came from remote villages, which caused a delay in starting on time.

The women, young men, and John headed to Smile Africa today.

If you have read my blog or followed our ministry before, you probably know that most of the 420 children who attend Smile Africa are Karamajong street orphans. Pastor Ruth, a Ugandan woman gifted and blessed by God, founded Smile Africa in order to feed, educate, bathe, clothe, and tend to the health of these "throw-away children." Many of them still live on the streets, although "slowly by slowly" as they say in Uganda, more of them are being housed and cared for beyond the daily program.

John and I set up for the First Aid/CPR class right away and he began instructing a group of teachers and staff.

They were very interested and eager to learn. They loved the videos and doing all the hands-on practice. As each group finished we gave them certificates and took a picture of them. They cheered, danced, and hugged us in celebration. I think John wants to teach all his future CPR classes here! Sixteen students were certified in all.

The rest of the team did activities with the children and then played with them and passed out some beautiful, colorful clothing that had been made for them by some lovely women from Arizona. Unfortunately, I didn't get many pictures of this since I was busy helping John. However, the one of the girl dressed in blue, holding out her old clothes says it all!

The children got the bananas we provide weekly with their rice today.

Sadly, they went for 10 months without the food they normally get from “Save My Starving Children.” Anti-government protests held up delivery of the food during that time. Even though they still received some food, their meals lacked the vitamin supplements they normally contain.

It was encouraging to see that the children are being better cared for. African Inland Mission has some young women working there from Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, and Minnesota. They have each been there for six month stints. Nearly 50 children are now being sponsored to attend school off campus.

Thirteen girls and fifteen boys live at the school, along with several babies. Pastor Ruth’s mother also lives there, as well as Grace, the cook.

Catherine (the other cook) lives with Pastor Ruth and helps her with Esther. She showed us her knee today, which is badly swollen and very sore. Despite the pain this is causing her, the beautiful smile she always wears hasn’t left her face. John decided tonight that he will give her his support sock to wear. Perhaps it will help.

We learned a new expression from one of the Ugandans travelling back to the hotel with us today. When we all exclaimed at witnessing six people on a boda, he replied “TIA –This is Africa!” We have had some other amazing boda sightings, including one hauling a sofa and two large side chairs, and a couple with coffins on the back.

Mealtime was pretty somber tonight. Those who were here for the first time struggled with emotions after seeing and working among the children of Smile Africa. Even though we can see improvement, many needs still exist, and the children are starving -not only for food, but for love and affection.

To Hear the Groans of Prisoners

2011-08-01T14:11:00.036-05:00

Psalm 102:19-20
“The LORD looked down from his sanctuary on high,
from heaven he viewed the earth,
to hear the groans of the prisoners
and release those condemned to death.”

5 July, 2011

As we met for breakfast we learned that Jan was not feeling well. John went to talk to her and she decided to stay behind for the day, even though it was a difficult decision for her to make. As our medical person, John stayed back too, which turned out to be a blessing for him since he was able to catch up on some much needed sleep. Jan slept most of the day and was feeling well enough to come to dinner this evening –praising God for that!

Today our ministry was to the women of Luzira Prison through Saphan’s Life Transforming Prison Ministry. We traveled there, stopping first at a bank in Kampala to exchange our money.

At the prison we were greeted by the warden and informed about how the prison operates and how Saphan (through Heart of God International) is helping them and the women of the prison. They expressed their thanks to us for our ministry to the women there and the provision of things that have made life more bearable for many of the inmates. They are willing to allow Saphan to continue his ministry because they consider it very valuable for the women. We aren't allowed to take photos inside the prison, however the warden took many, and promised to forward some to us. We are still waiting (hoping) to receive them.

We viewed and purchased some handmade items from the prison store, (pictured at the top of the page)

Next, we entered the prison, passing guards in formation on both sides as we passed, and walked to the classroom building. As we came down the path the prisoners began drumming and singing, dancing and trilling! After we filed in and things calmed down a bit Denise addressed the group and introduced us. Then some of the students sang for us, “How Excellent Your Name Is.” I had tears streaming down my face as I observed the joy in the faces and the passion in the voices of these poor and oppressed women. They sang a couple more songs putting all their heart and soul into their singing. Denise shared with the entire group the story of Joseph’s imprisonment on false charges, and how God used that experience and his faithfulness to God throughout to bless others, and in the end, received rich rewards and blessings for himself, as well. I’m sure it was an encouraging message for the prisoners to hear.

Next, we broke up into smaller groups. I led the student group, and Bobby and Abriana joined me. I spoke to the women using Psalm 40:2 and Psalm 103, assuring them that God is merciful, compassionate and willing to offer full forgiveness. I then explained salvation through Jesus Christ. As I finished, the interpreter who was also the praise leader for the group we heard from earlier spoke up.

“I want you to know that most of the prison students have trusted in Jesus Christ. It happens like this: we come to know Christ, then we want an education because we want to become the best person we can be for Him. We don’t want to go back to our old ways. We want to be good citizens. We want to learn to read so that we can read and understand the Bible. Trusting in Jesus gives us hope for a better future.” Once again tears came. Just before we broke into small groups Saphan had informed us that this woman, so full of joy and the anointing of the Holy Spirit, is scheduled to be executed by hanging in November!

We listened as several of the women thanked us for coming and then listed the greatest needs of the school. In expressing her thanks one woman said, “Thank you for coming to share God’s love with us. Most of the time we feel like the garbage of the world, but you made us feel special. You let us know that we are loved.” That statement alone made the day worthwhile!

After this we handed each prison student a book bag containing a New Testament, a pen, and a pencil.

Each woman, as she received the bag, bowed low before us. It is a gesture of deep respect and gratitude, but one that is humbling for me, for who am I that I should be so privileged to serve women of such great faith and courage? Many of the women left us with tears in their eyes.

Before leaving for the day we donated 25 mattresses and 10 thermoses for the HIV/AIDS group and the Mothers.

Chalkboards were purchased for the prison school as well, but they will arrive a few days after today’s visit. One of the most critical needs is protein supplements for the women who are sick, pregnant, or nursing. We will be in prayer over how to best meet this need.

Tonight before dinner each prison group shared some of their experiences. The Mothers group, the HIV/AIDS group, and the Needy and Alone group all had some very sad stories of injustice, separation from children, rejection, desperation.

We learned from Saphan that the formation of the guards as we entered the prison today is reserved for only three people -the president, the prison general, and the minister of internal affairs. We aren't sure why they did this, but perhaps it was a tribute to our God, the King of Kings!

It was an emotional day for all, both as we experienced it and as we shared about it at the end of the day. After dinner Saphan shared with the group more about his ministry and the challenges they face. Then he prepared us for what we will be doing tomorrow…

I should mention that we all ordered from the menu today. John ordered ox liver -something I would never order or make for him -and loved it! I was very happy with my Lubowa Special Steak. No of us opted for the Sand Witches offered on the menu. :)

Andrea ordered tilapia, and got the whole thing!

We all get served passion fruit juice with our meals. It's delicious!

Since some of us bought baskets made for kaloo (a millet cake made for special guests), Some was prepared for us so we could try it. We appreciated seeing and tasting it, but I'm glad I didn't have to eat a whole basket full!

6 July, 2011
We traveled quite a distance north of Kampala to visit another prison –co-ed this time. We went to visit one woman in particular, a pregnant mother of four children accused of murder (Wrongly so, our prison ministers believe).

Before reaching the prison we stopped at a market along the way where we bought some chapati (a fried bread) and some other things.

Aaron (still wearing the clothes he arrived in) asked about buying some clothes and was told, "we don't have huge!" They did offer to sew two blankets together for him to make a pair of pants, however!

When we arrived at the prison the officials unexpectedly asked us to address the entire group. Denise once again spoke to them about Joseph’s imprisonment and how God used it for good in his life as well as for His own glory. Aaron gave an impromptu presentation of the Gospel. Saphan then gave an invitation to accept Christ, and 17 prisoners stood! In order to follow up with these individuals, those who accepted Christ were asked to write their names on a sheet of paper. When the paper was collected many more names were on the list –seven of them Muslims, who may have been afraid to stand in the presence of other Muslims. So we don’t know the exact number, but many confessed their sins and accepted Jesus Christ today! (I am so thankful to serve Jesus Christ out of love, not fear!) We had a woman with us who lives in the area and participates in Saphan’s ministry. It is encouraging to know that Christians who live in the area will disciple these new brothers and sisters in Christ.

We left the prison and went to visit the mother’s children, now living with their grandmother in the bush. We followed roads that led to paths, until at last our vans were following a foot path with vegetation sweeping both sides of the vans –quite an experience! Below you will see the path as it looked after we reached the clearing.

We took clothing for the children, a large bag of corn flour, a bag of beans, several toys for the children, some pineapples, and much more.

This precious grandmother was overwhelmed. She invited us all into her house, got down on her knees, and told us (through an interpreter) that she knew that only God could have brought us to her, and now she couldn’t deny His love for her any longer. She wanted to confess her sins before us and put her faith in Jesus Christ!

One of the women who accompanied us bought some of the grandmother's chickens, so they traveled back to town in the van with us.

Before heading back to Lubowa Gardens we stopped at Abby and David’s house. Abby is Alex’ older sister who is involved in the prison ministry. Hannah (Saphan and Alex’s daughter) lives with them and attends school nearby. Abby and David served us a “by the way,” consisting of papaya, pineapple, bananas, and corn.

It was very refreshing, and a welcome break before traveling back to Entebbe. Saphan remembered that we liked corn with butter, so they had plenty of that on hand, but instead of salt, he had sugar! Corn in Uganda is hard and tasteless. They say it is for chewing, not for eating. They eat it after dinner or as a “by the way.”

Abby welcomed us to her home and shared her testimony. She is older than I and just accepted Christ 5 years ago. Her husband is “not yet saved.” They are well off by Ugandan standards. David is retired from a government position and Abby runs a nursery, selling seedlings.

David addressed our group as well, and welcomed us to his home. He also mentioned that he is not saved, but added, “I will be saved in my own time.” I pray that is true! John and I had a good conversation with him.

The children of the neighborhood came running to see the mzungus (white people), and the time spent playing with them was mutually enjoyed.

We returned after dark and some of the group rode bodas from the highway up to the hotel, which was quite exciting for them!

It was a joyful day in Uganda and in Heaven! We are privileged to be here, witnessing the Holy Spirit’s work and the saving grace of Jesus Christ in the lives of these precious people.

We got word as we traveled back to the hotel this evening that Aaron’s bag was located and can be retrieved tomorrow –the day we will leave here for Tororo! I’m sure that Aaron is pleased, and the timing is certainly another miracle, although it pales when compared to the other miracles of the day.

As a postscript I must add that the imprisoned mother gave birth to twins four days after our visit! She and her family remain in our thoughts and prayers.

Here are some sights seen along the way today. The first is a flock of storks!

A Fabulous Fourth Without Fireworks

2011-07-31T20:48:00.021-05:00

4 July, 2011

It is hard to imagine all the celebration that must be going on at home in observance of the 4th, for here it is an ordinary Monday. The electricity was still off this morning. We met for breakfast at 8:00, got things sorted out to send to Mbale with Kermit and Bryan, and prepared for the Women’s conference.

Although we were supposed to be at the conference at 9 we didn’t even leave until around 10. This is Africa, after all. Before we left Mary and Allwyn arrived from Wales, along with two friends traveling with them. It was so good to see them! Kermit and Bryan are traveling with them to the school while the rest of us remain here in Entebbe.

Despite last night’s experience, the roads were passable today, in part because we took a different route. The men’s and women’s conferences were to be held at the Botanical Gardens. What a beautiful setting! As we drove in we saw and heard monkeys swinging from the trees, and the drivers stopped to let us get out and take pictures –no worries that we were already two hours late for the conference!
When we finally got to the conference site it was in a breathtaking setting with natural beauty all around, exotic birds and butterflies flying about, monkeys swinging from the trees, and Lake Victoria visible below us.

The men and women were separated by a road and a grassy expanse. Many chairs were set up, but only 12 women and a handful of men were there -apparently our being late didn't matter a whole lot. Nevertheless, we got set up and began introducing ourselves.

We soon began the program, but women kept arriving from every direction and many modes of transportation -mostly on foot. Jan spoke first, then Denise, Wendy, and myself. I had prepared well, but had a hard time concentrating because many were still arriving and so much shuffling was going on as I spoke. Our theme was "The Virtuous Woman" of Proverbs 31. I spoke on “The Virtuous Businesswomen” and I must admit that I didn’t feel real good about how my talk went, although several told me that they took notes and learned a lot from it. If so, it was all God! Denise shared her very emotional testimony, Jan shared some of her earlier personal struggles, and Emily shared how she had accepted Christ in Uganda last year and couldn’t wait to return to share her testimony here. The women, now about 50 of them, began warming up to us. We sang together and they shared testimonies and some of them addressed us, too. Wendy, Andrea, Christy, and Cassandra from our team each spoke as well, and others read Scripture passages.

This lovely young woman was our interpreter the entire day, and she did an amazing job!

Soon after noon the numbers had swelled to nearly 100 in each group.

Lunch brought the men’s and women’s groups together, but it was delayed by nearly two hours, and some had to leave soon afterward in order to make it home before dusk began to fall. The men remained with us, and Scott finished up our time by preaching. We also sang together and had a meaningful prayer time. We handed out gifts at the end of the day and each attendee received a New Testament.

After the conference we had a little time to walk around the gardens. We saw a huge “wall” of spider webs with very large spiders in them. We also sat and talked for a while, admiring the beauty surrounding us until someone came to pick up the chairs.

The day was cool and beautiful. What a blessing to enjoy God’s creation and share time with His people in such an amazing setting!

My ankles have been swollen from the long flight, and another young woman on the trip has very swollen ankles with broken blood vessels beneath the skin. We asked the kitchen for a head of cabbage and I fashioned wraps out of Ziploc bags. I went to sleep with my spa treatment in place and slept well.

As High as the Heavens are Above the Earth...up, up and away to Uganda

2011-07-29T10:23:00.014-05:00

I am just getting my first blog post up following our trip to Africa. As you can see this was written during the trip, beginning July 1st -nearly a month ago! We were constantly on the go while in Uganda until the last week when malaria struck, but you will hear more about that later. We returned home around midnight last Sunday, and I'm finally feeling recovered enough from everything so that I can begin posting. I hope you enjoy reliving the journey with me.

1-2 July, 2011

We met at the church at 11:00 am and began weighing bags and shuffling loads. We finished by 12:00 with only 6 extra suitcases. I say “only” because of the amount of donated items given to us this year. Most of these items were hand-made (600 school bags and 400 pillowcase dresses). The effort and love put into these made them too precious to leave behind. Besides, money was donated to cover much of the extra baggage cost.

We all joined hands with our friends and family members present as Aaron prayed. We decided to have a girls’ car (ours) and a guys’ van (Bryan’s), so I drove the car. We planned ahead to stop in the Quad Cities for lunch, and when the girls spotted a Chik-Fil-A sign we called the guys to say we wanted to stop. After pulling off the interstate, the guys asked me to pull ahead, and I did, but it felt as though I was on ice –something on the car slipped. When we turned a corner it happened again. Then we stopped at a red light, and when I tried to go forward I only rolled backwards. The transmission had failed. John got out and got in the driver’s seat. I stood in the middle of the busy street until Bryan decided to try to push the car around the corner. Then I jumped in the back seat of the car. We made it around the corner and down a couple of blocks to a storage business. After pulling in we noticed a trail of transmission fluid, and the car was smoking. We quickly unloaded our things and put them in the van.

Bryan was aware that Stacia (Jelmelland)Stroud lived nearby, so he called her and she drove over to get the key from us, promising to arrange for the car to be repaired. Her husband just “happens” to be a mechanic –probably not the one to fix the car, but with connections. Since the temperature was in the upper 90’s Stacia brought a cooler full of freezer pops for us! All in all, it was a perfect place and time to lose a transmission! We were all able to fit into Bryan's van, along with all our stuff, and after a delicious Chik-Fil-A meal, we continued on our way.

We arrived in Robbins, Illinois –the village where Aaron Green grew up, and where most of his family lives- around 5:30. We were warmly greeted by Pastor Williams, Aaron’s mom, Dora, his sisters, Margo and Zella, and several of their children and grandchildren. They had a nice meal prepared –chicken wings, fried perch, French fries, peach cobbler, and birthday cake, since it was Dora’s birthday.

After eating our fill and visiting for a while we filled our air mattress and claimed a piece of floor where we spent part of the night. We had to get up at 2:00 am to have Aaron’s brother, Harold, drive us to O’Hare. We were first in the international line at 3:45. Still, by the time we got checked through and accounted and paid for all the luggage, we had little time to spare before boarding our plane for Washington DC Dulles airport at 5:40.

Besides going fast, the O’hare to Dulles flight was unremarkable. Upon arriving at Dulles we took a fun ride on the train to another terminal and walked quite a distance to meet our group -a total of 21 from all over the U.S. Our group of seven was the last to arrive.

It was great to see Jan, Denise, Sylvia, and Scott, and to meet the others. It was also a treat to eat at Chipotle (we are all about good food!)

Despite concerns over our carry-on weight (the limit is 15 lbs. of all carry-on items combined!), none were actually weighed. They only gave it a glance and waved us all through.

The plane –a B777 was a very nice plane, and the flight attendants were extremely pleasant and accommodating. They allowed much movement about the cabins. The first meal was served around 2:00 pm and wasn't bad, for airline food. It got worse from there. Movies, games, and other entertainment is all provided on individual monitors, and we were supplied with a blanket, pillow, sleep mask, socks, toothbrush, and toothpaste.

The man seated in front of us was traveling with his two young sons, ages 3 and 7. The three year old was pretty agitated and giving his dad a hard time, but I observed the dad’s patience and complemented him. I sat by a very nice young man named Caleb who is originally from Addis Ababa, but lives in Richmond, Virginia. His wife and children (ages 5 and 1) have been visiting family in Addis Ababa for 6 weeks and he was very excited to see them.

I re-read Psalm 103 today -the chapter God gave me for this year's trip. Verse 11 really struck me as we flew so high above the clouds: “For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him. As far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us.”

Today I am experiencing a tiny glimpse of just how high the heavens are above the earth and how far the east is from the west. David, the psalmist, could never have guessed that men would someday have the opportunity to fly halfway round the world at such heights in one day. And yet the God who inspired him to write the Psalm knew. God’s Word is always fresh, always new, always in step with our lives, for He is without limits of time and space. I am thankful today for the gifts of flight and technology that allow me to peer beyond what generations before have known.

3 July, 2011

We arrived at Addis Ababa –an emotional arrival as it struck me where I was and I thought about it being Bruck’s home (Bruck is a close family friend who now lives in the US).

The part of the airport to which we were confined was not very modern or pleasant. We had to wait in the gate area which was so crowded that all the seats and floor space were filled and many were standing. What a relief to finally leave that place after three hours!

We arrived in Entebbe just two hours after taking off and went through immigration fairly fast. Several cartloads of baggage were claimed and we were met by Saphan and Alex –such a welcome sight! One bag belonging to Aaron was missing, however, and it took nearly two hours to make a claim. Meanwhile, the rest of the bags were loaded onto a large open truck bed. Of course these had to be watched very carefully. It was overcast and a bit muggy, but pleasant as we waited in the parking lot.

We were all very tired and looking forward to getting to the hotel. Two vans were finally filled with all the passengers, and the truck full of luggage positioned between the two. We were on our way. It wasn’t to be easy travel to the hotel, though. The roads were wet and muddy.

Travel was slow, with vehicles often getting stuck. It was quite a sight, with bodas sinking past their rims, cars sliding within a hair’s breadth of the van, etc. On several occasions people got out of the vans just to watch the excitement.

When we finally arrived at Lubowa Gardens it was nearly 6 p.m. and getting dark. There was no electricity, so we had to quickly locate our flashlights and try to get organized in the dark. Even the cold shower felt so good! Electricity, mostly produced by generaor, came and went throughout the rest of the evening, but we managed fine.

Dinner was at 8, along with some formalities and instructions. After we finished we had to get many things organized for the following day, so I finally got to bed around 11. It felt SO good to sleep, as it was Sunday, and I hadn’t had a real night’s sleep since Thursday!

Off to Uganda Again!

2011-06-30T20:00:00.021-05:00

I have some very important things to share here today, even though my poor blog has been neglected lately.

Once again I have been preparing to travel to Uganda. In fact, we leave tomorrow! So many preparations have been underway–talks, lesson plans, collecting and packing materials and ministry gifts. It has been a year-long effort, and especially busy during this month of June.

Two projects in particular deserve some special attention. Norma Vogt of Cedar Valley Bible Church headed up a project of sewing book bags.

She did an amazing job of coordinating this effort. An unbelievable number of people participated, and hundreds of bags are now packed for travel and distribution.

Following a presentation at Valley View Baptist Church in August, 2010, the ladies of that church began meeting to sew pillowcase dresses and collect shorts for boys. Consequently, we also have hundreds of dresses and pairs of shorts on their way to Uganda as well. Many orphans will be blessed through their efforts.
(photos pending)

Last Saturday a group of several individuals met to help sort and pack all the donated items, including bags, shorts, and dresses. It was a joyful event, and such fun to share it with some of those who made the trip possible. We held hands and prayed after all the bags were packed, and I was overwhelmed with gratefulness for each person who has given of themselves, their resources, or their abilities in any number of ways –young and old, even many that I don’t know.

Some of the packers really got "into it!"

These two women celebrated landmark birthdays by asking for donations for trip projects.

These two children gave money to buy fruit for hungry children. One emptied her piggy bank, the other ran a lemonade stand.

Another child asked each person who came to her birthday party to bring a pillowcase. Then she and her mom sewed them into dresses.
The stories could go on and on. In fact, if you are reading this and you know of another story, add it in the comments!

“Thank you” seems such an inadequate expression when I think of all the support and help we have received. As eight of us travel from Cedar Rapids and then meet up with twelve more from other parts of the U.S. we each feel a heavy weight of responsibility in taking not only these hand-fashioned and carefully selected items to the poorest of the poor, but above all, taking the free, yet extravagant, gift of the gospel of Jesus Christ to them as well.

Yes, “inadequate” describes my expression of gratefulness, and it also describes my ability to do this job. I know that many of us have been feeling this way. It is important to remember, however, that when I am week, that is when I am strong –strong in the Lord, that is. I couldn’t do any of this without Him.

I am especially happy that my husband, John will be going along this time. He has been supportive of the other trips and feels like he already knows many of my Ugandan friends. I am looking forward to them meeting in person. I also look forward to spending the time in ministry together. Our stay will be extended an extra week, along with our missions director, Denise.

Tomorrow we will all travel to Chicago by van, spend part of the night in a church there, fly out early Saturday morning for Washington DC, then fly from there to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, and finally to Entebbe. Many of our friends in Uganda will be waiting to receive us. It will be such a happy reunion!

Please continue to pray for all of us as we travel and share God's love.

Jen Hen and Her Fine Friends

2011-06-03T13:32:00.003-05:00

Jen Hen and Her Fine Friends
by Sharlyn Guthrie

Jen, the little red hen, had big ideas. She was preparing to raise another batch of chicks, but first she had to ensure that her fields would be taken care of. Ever since Jen amazed her friends with that famous first crop of wheat, they had come around to her way of thinking –well, some of them had, anyway.

“Friends, I will be pursuing family interests for the next few months,” Jen announced one morning in April, “I won’t be able to raise wheat this year. Who will raise it for me? “

“I will,” said Digsby Dog.

“I will,” said Claus Cat.

“Whatever,” said Puddles Pig.

“Thank you, Digsby. “Due to your enthusiastic response I will give you five acres,” and with her wing Jen gestured toward a large bag of seed.

“Claus, you pack a punch for your size. I will give you two acres,” and with her wing Jen gestured toward a medium sized bag of seed.

“Puddles, I sense that you have a bit of an attitude. Still, I am giving you one acre. See what you can do with it,” and with her wing Jen gestured toward a small bag of seed.

Jen then disappeared into the hen house where she began feathering her nest, and each of her friends headed off toward the field –well, two of her friends, anyway.
Digsby and Claus got right to work, plowing their fields and then planting their wheat seed. Puddles stuffed her bag of seed behind a loose barn board and then snuffled through the muck, searching for a snack.

By mid-May Jen was seen bustling about the barnyard. She had her wings full with twelve baby chicks to care for, but sometimes she caught sight of her friends. Well, not Digsby so much. Most of his day was spent in the field. Claus went right to work each morning, but could be seen every afternoon napping in the haymow. And Puddles? Well, she rolled in the mud, basked in the sun, and grew a little plumper each day.

By August Jen’s chicks were nearly grown, but she was still busy trying to keep them out of trouble. She was ever so grateful for her hard-working friends. Soon the wheat would be harvested, and Jen could almost taste the delicious wheat bread that she, her chicks, and her friends would enjoy –well, two of her friends, anyway. “Who is ready to harvest the wheat?” Jen asked them.

“I am,” said Digsby.

“I am,” said Claus.

“Whatever,” said Puddles.

Digsby and Claus harvested their wheat and took it to the mill to be ground into flour. When they returned Jen called her friends together again. “Who wants to report on their harvest?” she asked.

“I will,” said Digsby.

“I will,” said Claus.

“Whatever,” said Puddles.

Jen smiled and nodded at Digsby.

“I planted five acres, and I have returned with five hundred bags of flour,” Digsby reported.

“Outstanding!” exclaimed Jen. “You have done so well, I will give you even more to plant next year.”

“I planted two acres, and I have returned with two hundred bags of flour,” reported Claus.

“Fantastic!” said Jen, “You have done well. Next year I will give you more to plant, also.” Jen turned her attention to the pig. “How many bags of flour do you have, Puddles?”

“You expected too much of me, Jen. I don’t do well under pressure, and I never could have made you happy, anyway. But at least I still have the seed you gave me.” Puddles pulled her seed from behind the barn board, but the sack caught on a nail and the seed fell into the muck.

“You lazy pig!” Jen clucked, “If you were truly a friend you would have at least given your seed to someone else to plant. Now the seed is ruined and your entire acre is a weed patch. I would call you good for nothing, but I have heard rumors that you have grown so fat you will soon be taken to market, so perhaps you are good for something, after all. Your acre will go to Digsby, the most responsible, faithful friend of all.”

And so it was that the aroma of baking bread taunted Puddles the following afternoon as she was loaded up and hauled off to market. But Digsby, Claus, Jen and the twelve chicks feasted until their bellies ached, and that night they all dreamed of bacon.

(loosely based on Matthew 25:14-30)

I hope you enjoyed this twist on a parable and a folk tale. It won 3rd place for the topic "Outstanding" in the Faithwriters Writing Challenge a few weeks ago. My friend, Rick at Pod Tales and Ponderings is hosting today's Fiction Friday. I hope you'll stop by and follow links to other great stories.

Life As A Tree

2011-05-13T14:34:00.003-05:00

Life as a Tree
by Sharlyn Guthrie

Toby Gleason turned to see a small crowd forming around his locker.

“What’s up?” His group of friends known as “the gang” pressed in further.

Gabe spoke in low tones. “My house. Today. After practice.”

“Oh yeah? What for?” The others exchanged knowing grins and glances.

“Danielle went out with Kyle Friday night. They really went at it…you know, as in all the way.” Muffled laughter fluttered through the group.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Toby replied, rolling his eyes at Kyle.

“He got it all on video. And we’re gonna watch.”

“That’s disgusting!” Toby recoiled at the thought.

“You won’t say that once you see it. Be there.”

“Forget it.” Toby replied. “Count me out this time.”

How happy is the man who does not follow the advice of the wicked…

If Toby thought the matter was settled, he thought again when he reached the school parking lot.

“Listen, man, you’re either with us or against us.” Gabe stood blocking the driver’s door of Toby’s car. “We’re not goin’ down because some goody two shoes decides to rat us out. Only way we know to keep that from happening is if you come along. Besides, you won’t want to miss the fun.” The others guffawed as they lined up along his car, arms crossed across their chests.

Toby’s heart beat wildly. He felt threatened, and yet he had never been so angry. Indignant, he spat. “You guys are pathetic. And I used to think you were cool. Now get out of my way.” He kicked gravel, causing them to scatter, then lurched for the door and sped off.

…or take the path of sinners…

Toby prayed as he drove, ignoring the continuous ringing of his cell phone. When he finally listened to the messages left by his supposed friends he was sickened by their mocking tone and foul language. “God, protect me,” he prayed. “These enemies of yours are no friends of mine. Help me stay strong.”

…or join a group of mockers.

Tara was surprised to find Toby at her door. He usually called before dropping in on his girlfriend. Nevertheless she listened, horrified, as he filled her in on the day’s events.

“Tara,” he continued, searching her deep green eyes. “Remember the youth retreat we attended last month?” Tara nodded. “God really spoke to me there. I’ve been reading my Bible every day since and I can’t get enough. I think God wants me to serve Him…full time, I mean. I’m telling you now because I might not be so much fun to be with any more. “The gang” will make my life miserable and, most likely, yours too.”

She stared silently at the floor.

“But there’s more, Tara. I’ll be going to Bible college after I graduate. I won’t blame you if you show me the door.”

Instead, his delight is in the Lord's instruction,and he meditates on it day and night.

“Oh Toby, that’s what I want, too. I want to do things God’s way. Good riddance to a bunch of guys who think using girls makes them cool.”

Toby’s heart overflowed with gratitude and relief.

Although distanced from the popular crowd, Toby found he didn’t lack for friends. Tara stood by him, enrolling in the same Bible college as he following graduation. As they grounded themselves in God’s Word their friendship flourished. So did their love for Jesus Christ.

He is like a tree planted beside streams of water…

Toby and Tara’s wedding was a joyful celebration of love and commitment before family and friends. During Toby’s seminary years Tara worked hard so Toby could concentrate on his studies. After seminary Toby accepted a youth pastor position. He loved discovering fresh ways of encouraging teens to pursue a relationship with Jesus Christ. God soon blessed the devoted couple with a beautiful baby boy.

…that bears its fruit in season…

Still, Toby and Tara have weathered their share of droughts and storms. They grieved through three miscarriages. Tara’s parents divorced. Toby sometimes encounters resistance among church members and disappointing choices made by his teens. Each trial makes them cling more tightly to Jesus, their vine.

…and whose leaf does not wither.

Toby lives modestly and righteously, depending on God to meet his family’s needs. But Tara’s gentle touch and their son’s laughter at the end of each day remind him what true prosperity is. He is a happy man.

Whatever he does prospers.

Psalm 1:1-3( The Holman Christian Standard Bible)

For more Friday Fiction, please visit today's hostess, Catrina, at Speak to the Mountain.

Another Royal Wedding to Anticipate

2011-04-29T07:35:00.005-05:00

With all eyes on the Royal Wedding of William and Kate today, I decided to repost a story I wrote about the greatest love story of all time...and the much anticipated Royal Wedding that is to come.

The Peasant and the Prince
by Sharlyn Guthrie

A young peasant woman shuddered at the sight of the prince striding toward her. Shrinking into the shadows she attempted to hide, fearful of his motive in seeking her out. She had spat at him yesterday as he passed, though she hadn’t thought he’d noticed.

The shadows failed to conceal her. He grasped her with firm, yet surprisingly gentle hands. “I saw you on the street yesterday.”

Her eyes scanned the pebbles near his feet and her throat constricted, preventing a reply.
Placing one finger under her chin, he tipped her head, causing her to meet his tender gaze. He wiped a smudge from her cheek, then caught her as her knees buckled.

“I have come to offer you this.” He smiled, extending a roll of parchment tied with red ribbon. “It is a ketubah, a marriage contract. I love you, and wish for you to become my kallah, my bride.”

“You? Marry me?” She searched his face for the mockery she expected to see, but none was found. “I haven’t a dowry,” she managed, ashamed.

“It makes no difference. If you accept my proposal I will see to it that you are housed and cared for until I return to take you as my wife. It’s all here in the ketubah: my love for you, my intent to marry you, and promises to fulfill all of my obligations to you both now and in the future.”

“But where will you be?”

“I am going away to prepare our future home. I can’t say when I will return, only that I will. And when I do, you must be ready for our marriage. Will you accept me as your groom, your choson?”

“Oh yes, I do accept!” She bent to kiss his feet, but was quickly drawn up into his embrace.

“Then you must begin now to act worthy of me. Go, change your clothes and ready yourself for the day of my return.”

One rapturous kiss was shared, and the prince left as quickly as he had come. Word of the betrothal spread, and many were taken aback. Why would a prince marry a peasant woman? Some were angered, while others simply chose not to believe it was true. Still others marveled at the mystery and intrigue of the unlikely match.

The kallah soon discovered that her temporary home was situated in the realm ruled by the prince’s arch-enemy. Still, she cheerfully went about her preparations for marriage, concerning herself with little else. Her new life contrasted sharply with the life she had lived as a peasant. Few had taken notice of her in the past, but with her name now linked to that of her choson, all eyes, it seemed, were on her.

Attractive suitors clamored for her attention –men of strength, ardor, and shocking impropriety. Their attention was flattering, nevertheless. One offered wealth beyond compare, another fame and recognition throughout every worldly kingdom, yet another promised amazing supernatural powers. Such offers sometimes tempted the kallah, who was growing weary, and at times impatient.

Each suitor was seemingly more attractive than the last. When their charming ways failed to entice her, their tactics became less subtle. “Didn’t he say he would return?” they taunted, “Where is your choson? See? He has left you with only a ketubah filled with empty promises. Surely he is dead, or else he has found another lover more worthy of his name.”

Confused, the kallah unrolled the ketubah, seeking her beloved’s wisdom. “Be on the alert for imposters sent by the enemy,” it said. “They are wolves in sheep’s clothing who seek to snatch you away from me. Don’t pay them any heed. Keep your heart pure.”

Years passed, and life went on around her. Most of the kingdom dwellers lost interest in the story of the peasant and the prince. When the aging woman attempted to remind them, they laughed. “You’re still waiting for your prince? You’re missing all the fun. Don’t you know that purity is outdated? A real lover wouldn’t expect you to wait so long.”

Still, the kallah remained faithful, yearning for her beloved. The wait had been long, and sometimes it seemed unbearable. But day after day she reached for the well-worn ketubah, and each day its words rekindled her passion and restored her longing. For once she was merely a peasant woman in soiled garments, but soon her home would be a palace. She knew the prince, her precious choson would come.

If you would like to participate in Fiction Friday or post your own fiction, please visit Writing With Debra.

One Tiny Tender Shoot

2011-04-22T09:04:00.004-05:00

One Tiny Tender Shoot

From barren soil, drought-stricken, parched
one tiny tender Shoot appeared.
So plain and homely was its form
it was not welcomed nor revered
where men in sullen shadows marched.

Abundant sorrow shame and grief
bent the Sprout low to the ground,
so smitten and afflicted here
that even God most surely frowned,
making its earthly visit brief.

I saw through eyes blind and diseased;
I saw, and yet assumed the worst:
Death was the end –His just reward,
but of the dead He was the first
to end its curse, and God was pleased!

Abundant love coursed through His veins,
abundant pardon, mercy, grace
gushed from violent gaping wounds,
compassion dripping from His face;
Only His righteousness remains.

Broken and bathed in Jesus’ blood
my sins are gone, my sight restored!
The Bud, once stricken, scorned, despised
now stately, treasured, and adored;
once-thirsty soil quenched by the flood.

Abundant life and joy and peace
sustain my spirit, soul and mind!
I feast on Him, my daily bread,
And drink His water, milk, and wine…
abundant gifts that never cease!

~Sharlyn Guthrie
(Based on Isaiah 53 and 55:1)

Spring Again, and Again, and Again...

2011-04-16T13:13:00.046-05:00

I love Spring…awakening to bird song, browns and greys turning to lush greens, life bursting from every crevice! No wonder I am thrilled to be experiencing Spring for the third time this year. That’s right –this late Iowa spring, long in the coming, interrupted this morning by light snow, is my third!

My second Spring was experienced in South Carolina the last week of March.

In February I had the privilege of traveling to Wales for Heart of God East Africa. I traveled with Denise and Jan –a whirlwind trip, but so beautiful, inspiring, and fruitful. I certainly didn’t expect to be greeted by Spring there, but what a wonderful surprise to discover green grass, crocus and daffodils brightening up the landscape.

We were met in London by our hosts, Mary and Alwyn. Mary is the founder of King's Primary School, the school in Bunambutye, Uganda, where I have visited the past two summers.

Up until the time of our visit, we had only communicated with Mary by email, so of course we wondered if communication would be easier or more difficult in person; if it would take some time to warm up to each other, or if we would feel an immediate connection. The five hour drive with three of us squeezed into the back seat of their compact car provided plenty of time for "warming up." Along the way we each shared our testimony of coming to know Jesus Christ. What a precious time of instant bonding!

As we entered Wales, we soon became accustomed to seeing all the signs printed in both English and Welsh.

Mary drove us to their home in Abertysswg Village, nearly five hours from the airport. Abertysswg means “mouth of the river, ” and was originally built as a mining town.

Mary and Alwyn’s home is called Glan Yr Afon, or “river side.” One of the only stand-alone houses in the village, it is over 100 years old. The setting couldn’t have been more idyllic.

I particularly loved this view from my bedroom window...

Mary and Alwyn made us feel welcome and comfortable. They invited some other friends of King’s Primary School to come and meet us, and we all had such a great time of fellowship. What a treat to be their guests! We made some exciting plans for the school, and decided on some projects for the large team that will be traveling there in July of this year. One of the men, an engineer who helped to build the school, has made plans that our team will use to wire the school for electricity. It has been so amazing to see God working through these plans, providing just the right people for the jobs! He has answered each prayer so specifically, that we can’t help but see that He is in it!

We had time for a little sightseeing, too. Caerphilly…

Cardiff Bay…

The Welsh Parliament…

Theatre of the Arts…

It was an amazing trip that ended too soon, but as we returned from sightseeing this bit of graffiti spotted on a wall reminded us of our united purpose...

So true! The Bible states it this way, "The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked. Who can know it?"* We are here to confirm that God is in the business of intimately knowing and changing hearts in Iowa, California, Ohio, Wales, and Uganda!

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, He is a new creation. The old is gone. The new has come!"**. Now, doesn't that sound like Spring?

* Jeremiah 17:9

** 2 Corinthians 5:17

Fishin' Fer Men

2011-02-24T23:06:00.004-06:00

I scrounged up this poem I wrote several years ago for today's Friday Fiction. It's not what I typically write -mostly jest fer fun.

Fishin’ Fer Men
by Sharlyn Guthrie

“Ernie, put yer waders on.
Go grab yer pole an’ lure.
Reckon I don’t hafta tell
ya’ what them things are fer.

Now tell th’ missus s’long
then hop in this here truck.
Down yon at Lake Kahoochee
we’ll try our trollin’ luck.

I sure ‘nuf knows it’s Sunday,
but ‘tisn’t ever’ day
th’ catfish are a bitin’
same as they are t’day.

Besides, it’s by the churchyard.
We’ll hear th’ choir singin’.
We’ll have a taste o’ Heaven
while our catch we’re stringin’.

I musta been convincin’;
‘took less than a minute.
Th’ missus ain’t too happy?
Shoot! She’ll soon forget it.

Now Hold th’ worm can, Ernie.
--dug ‘em fresh this mornin’.
I ain’t got time fer preachin’;
it’s oh so dry, an’ borin’.

Reckon th’ times a’comin’
I’ll hafta change my ways.
‘Til then I’ll jes’ keep fishin’.
Ain’t got no need t’ pray.

Yer mighty quiet, Ernie.
Th’ cat done got yer tongue?
Now you’ll forget th’ missus
Soon as yer line is flung.

That’s Blindman’s Knob we’re climbin’
--nearly there, by jiggered!
We both can get t’ baitin’
quicker than I figgered.

Doggone it! Nothin’s happnin’…
I’m pushin’ on th’ brake!
Good Lawd! We are a headin’
straight for Kahoochee Lake!”

Now Deacon Joe wuz fixin’
fer Sunday’s meetin’ when
he heard a loud commotion
an’ shoutin’, cursin’ men.

He scurried through the meadow
an’ down the slipp’ry bank
in time t’ see Lyle’s pick-up
jes’ sinkin’ like a tank.

The two men thrashed an’ hollered
t’ save their drownin’ souls.
Out there among the rushes
Joe found their fishin’ poles.

Joe cast an’ hooked Lyle’s britches
an’ as he reeled him in,
Lyle snagged Ernie’s suspenders;
he stretched ‘em mighty thin!

Two wet an’ red-faced anglers
flopped on Kahoochee’s shore.
They thanked the Lord in Heaven
t’ be on land once more.

“Well fellas, I’ll be headin’
back over t’ th’ church.
Guess you’ll be comin’ with me
since yer left in th’ lurch.”

Joe hooked one arm through Ernie’s,
th’ other one through Lyle’s.
folks saw that passel comin’
An’ they broke into smiles.

Down front, right near th’ altar
Ernie caught his missus.
A worm crawled down her cheek as
he laid on the kisses.

A humbled Lyle and Ernie
both took to repentin’.
Th’ preacher let ‘em finish
then did his commentin’.

“This here’s an illustration
of truth y’all have heard.
Ol’ Deacon Joe is righteous
an’ listens t’ God’s Word.

‘An when he sees a sinner
a-drownin’ in his ways
old Joe’ll go a fishin’
th’ dyin’ soul t’ save.

Some folks don’t meet th’ Savior
While sittin’ in a pew.
They hafta git reminded
a’ what God’s grace can do.

So boys, keep up yer fishin’.
But ever’ now an’ then,
instead o’ snaggin’ catfish
go fishin’ fer some men.”

“The fruit of the uncompromisingly righteous is a tree of life, and he who is wise captures human lives for God, as a fisher of men--he gathers and receives them for eternity.” Proverbs 11:30 (AMP)

Catrina is hosting Fiction Friday today at her blog Speak to the Mountain. I hope you will pay her blog a visit, or better yet, join us!

One Day's Worth of Love

2011-02-13T22:37:00.007-06:00

"Be kindly affectioned one to another
with brotherly love;
in honour preferring one another." Romans 12:10 (KJV)

Two year old Claire and five year old Noah have had their share of spats lately. I am amazed at how competitive they are, especially considering their age and gender differences. What starts as taunting can soon erupt into all-out war.

Their mom and dad have very specific consequences for unkind behavior:

Hitting or pushing = time out, facing the wall
Taking toys away = loss of the privilege of playing with that toy
Teasing or aggravating = separation from each other (-interesting that this works!)
Using unkind words = say something kind/loving

Saturday evening I helped with crafts at a family Valentine party held at our church. The children made valentines for a family member or friend, then enclosed a customized “coupon” as a gift. I explained all of this to Noah, who had just finished making a valentine for Mom and Dad. He then sat pondering what to write on his coupon. Finally, he wrote, “I will love Claire for…”

“Oh, that’s a good one, Noah. Are you going to love her for one whole week?”

“A year!” he exclaimed, but quickly changed his mind, “…or maybe a day.”

Along with the other adults in the craft room I tried to stifle my snickers.

In the end his coupon read, “I will love Claire for 1 day.”

I admire Noah’s childish honesty, knowing that even one day is no small commitment. Sure, a day doesn’t sound like much when compared to the week I suggested, or to Noah’s grand aspirations of a year, but I’m guessing that keeping that promise for an entire day will be mighty tough!

“Be kindly affectioned to one another with brotherly love; in honor preferring one another.” This is no mushy Valentine sentiment, but a command concerning our brothers and sisters in Christ. In fact, John 13:35 says that this is how others will know that we are Christians -by the love we show toward one another.

If I am honest I must admit, like Noah, that I struggle in this area. I am not always as patient or tenderhearted with my brothers and sisters in Christ as I should be. I sometimes insist on my own way, and I don’t always share. I can say hurtful things, sometimes in the form of gossip...and the list goes on.

I think I will borrow Noah’s idea and write my Father a Valentine coupon:

VALENTINE COUPON To: My Father God
Redeemable For: loving my brothers and sisters for 1 day
Note #1: Coupon may be redeemed as often as needed
Note #2: I can't do this without your help!
Signed: Your child, Sharlyn

Yvonne is hosting Monday Manna today at My Back Door.

When Love Came Knocking

2011-02-11T15:07:00.003-06:00

When Love Came Knocking
by Sharlyn Guthrie

The street was empty and dark except for flickering television sets illuminating the clouded windows of broken down trailers. A woman’s shrieks shredded the silence, but no one noticed. An infant’s cry soon erupted. Lucy Bryant had given birth to her fourth child. The twenty two year old slumped back onto her filthy bed, leaving the wet, scrawny infant untouched between her legs.

“Mama?” Jasmine’s eyes stretched as wide as lollipops.

“What’re you lookin’ at? Git! And take him with you. He needs a bath.” Lucy used the kitchen knife from the nightstand to slice through the cord.

Regarding the wiggling creature with wonder, the six-year-old gathered him up in a bed sheet. “Mama, can we keep this one?”

“Dunno. Just let me get some sleep.”

“I’d like you gooder if you was a sister, but you can’t help it you’re a boy.” Jasmine filled the bathroom sink half-full of water, dipped her brother in and out several times, then rubbed him dry with the bed sheet. His head wobbled and his legs stiffened as he screamed, reddening his transparent skin.

Several hours later, Lucy found them nestled together, the newborn swaddled in Jasmine’s outgrown Little Mermaid tee shirt. Despair overwhelmed her. Light-headed and weak, Lucy packed a few essentials and fled.

Falls Creek Bible Church would begin its summer children’s program next week. As Laura Rayburn drove home from the planning meeting, something or Someone urged her to turn along the rough, narrow lane she usually passed without a thought. Guilt and shame tore at her tender heart as she drove through the impoverished community. Why hadn’t she or her church family ever reached out to these hurting people?

Silently petitioning the Lord for protection and courage, Laura stretched across two broken steps to rap on a door. Putrid air poured out of the dilapidated trailer, surrounding the wisp of a girl who appeared. Dark half-moons under the child’s eyes made her appear old and haggard.

“Hi, I’m Laura. May I speak to your mother or father?”

“I’m Jasmine. I don’t got no mother or father.”

“May I come in?” The question from her own mouth startled Laura. She hadn’t planned to go inside, and yet something or Someone propelled her forward, through the open door.

Laura gasped when the rag doll on the couch suddenly drew breath and wailed. “That’s my brother.” Jasmine intoned.

‘What’s his name?” Laura questioned.

“I dunno. I just call him Brother.”

Apprehension nibbled at Laura’s insides, but she reached for the child. “May I?”

“You can’t have him. He’s mine.”

“Oh, Honey, I’m not taking him, I just want to hold him.”

“His head isn’t on very tight.”

“Okay, I’ll be careful.” The bit of childish wisdom produced a wan smile.

The infant was weak and much too thin, Laura realized with alarm. He wasn’t even wearing a diaper. “When did he last have a bottle?”

“Oh! I give him one whenever he cries. I found Jake’s old bottle in the cupboard.”

“Jake?”

“He was my brother, too. A social worker took him away with the last baby. Are you a social worker?”

“No.” Laura sank into the couch, nauseated and tearful. “I came here to tell you that Jesus loves you. Do you know about Jesus?”

“I don’t know any Jesus. Is he a friend of yours?”

“Well, yes. He is. He wants to be your friend, too, Jasmine. Could you use some help taking care of this little guy?”

Jasmine’s eyes searched the floor surrounding her dirty bare feet. “I guess so. We’re out of milk. Babies got to have milk, don’t they? He needs diapers, too. I hafta keep changing his shirts. Can Jesus help me take care of him?”

“Listen, Jasmine,” Laura squatted, peering into two deep, serious eyes. “Jesus is God’s Son. We can’t see Him, but He hears our prayers. I’m going to pray right now and ask Him to get you the help you need. Okay?”

Jasmine had an invisible friend, too, but she knew that hers was make-believe. Laura seemed to think her friend, Jesus, was real. Jasmine liked the way Laura smiled when she talked to Him. Brother cuddled into Laura’s shoulder and Jasmine slid slender arms around Laura’s waist, pressing into her as she dialed for help on her cell phone.

Surprised by the warmth surging through her, Jasmine exclaimed, “This must be love!” Then, closing her eyes as Laura had done, she whispered, “Thank you, Jesus.”

Karlene is Hosting Fiction Friday at Homespun Expressions today. Please pay her a visit to find more great fiction or to post your own story.

Oh, He Speaks!

2011-02-02T15:36:00.001-06:00

“God spoke,” some say, “but speaks no longer -like Grandfather who rocks and smiles, and rocks some more, notions and musings buttoned under his sweater.”

Oh, He speaks to those with ears to hear, ears trembling with expectancy like hummingbirds hovering in anticipation. His words flow soft and warm; sweet and satisfying as nectar. Long for them; expect them; listen. Shh…

“We have His Word,” they say, “His Word in black and white, like letters from a far-off soldier love pregnant with promise of His return. It should be enough,” they say. “No one has heard from Him for centuries.”

He is the Word, the Word preceding black and white; the Word that breathed it; the Word that lives and breathes still –ever breathing, ever speaking utterances too holy to repeat. Yes, He speaks through words penned centuries ago; speaks through beings and things created; speaks through ironic circumstance. Can the everlasting Word be silent? Oh, He speaks to those who would be still; reminds, reassures, repeats love’s declarations. Shh…be still.

Crying out from self-made altar strewn with leftovers -hardly a sacrifice, we beg and bully Him. “Where are You, God? Do you hear me? Speak, God! I’m listening. Are you in the wind? The fire? The storm? If You are God, Speak.”

“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door I will come in and eat with him and he with me.” *

“Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me.” **

“A silent observer… ” naysayers claim. “God watches and waits; His creation waits too, for the roar signaling death’s death once and for all times -like fabled silver swan whose death song is His first, finest and final proclamation.”

Observer? Yes. Silent? …Only to those who listen blind. Oh yes, He speaks! Be still and hear.

* Revelation 3:20 (NIV Bible)
** Song of Solomon 2:10b (NIV Bible)

Rocket Science

2011-01-31T17:23:00.007-06:00

“No, the word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart so you may obey it.” Deuteronomy 30: 14(NIV Bible)

Moses is speaking to the Israelites in this verse –reiterating a message he was commanded by God to deliver. In Deuteronomy 29 and the first part of 30 the terms of the covenant God made with the Israelites are laid out in the clearest language possible. Then, in order to emphasize that they are fully capable of understanding it, he adds this:

11 Now what I am commanding you today is not too difficult for you or beyond your reach. 12 It is not up in heaven, so that you have to ask, “Who will ascend into heaven to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?” 13 Nor is it beyond the sea, so that you have to ask, “Who will cross the sea to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?” 14 No, the word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart so you may obey it. Deuteronomy 30: 11-14 (NIV Bible)

I love the imagery here of the lengths to which people might go to obtain something of great value. God is making the point that His priceless truth is easily accessible –easy for even the simple minded to grasp. A good paraphrase of this section of Moses’ speech might be, “It’s not rocket science, people!” God wanted to make it clear that there were no excuses when it came to recognizing and obeying Him, at least in a general sense, and with knowledge comes accountablility.

Of course this message was specifically for the Israelites, who were taught about God from childhood on, and who witnessed God’s intervention on their behalf on many occasions. But I am reminded of some similar verses in Romans that make me believe this principle can be more broadly applied:

18 The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of people, who suppress the truth by their wickedness, 19 since what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. 20 For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. Romans 1:18-20 (NIV Bible)

This time God is speaking to and about the general population, or at least that part of the general population that has rejected him. So it would seem that everyone is capable of grasping a basic understanding of who God is and what constitutes good and evil, regardless of whether they have heard or accepted the specifics of the Gospel.

Several years ago during a psychology class at a secular college, my professor (a self-proclaimed non-believer in Christ) began discussing abortion. “I support abortion as a necessary evil in our society,” he said. “If we are honest with ourselves, I think everyone knows that abortion is morally wrong. However, when it comes down to individual circumstances –if it is my sister who is raped, or my teenage daughter who becomes pregnant- I can’t say that I would choose for them what I know is the most moral choice.”

While the professor’s position is sad, I have to admire his honesty. His statement is also an apt illustration of God’s word being obvious and easy to grasp, even for non-believers.

But God’s truth is even more obvious to those of us who have become His sons and daughters through the grace of Jesus Christ. Aren’t I even more accountable before God, then, when it comes to obeying His commandments, just as the Israelites were in their time and culture?

It is my sinful nature that causes me to point out perceived discrepancies in Scripture, to seek out exceptions to the rules, to justify what I know in my heart is sin. In truth, if I am honest with myself, God’s word is simple. I read it often, it is written on my heart, I speak of it to others with my lips, and even now my fingertips proclaim it as I type. When it comes to obeying it, I am fully accountable –without excuse. It’s not Rocket Science!

Vonnie at My Back Door is hosting Monday Manna today.

Just Ask

2011-01-24T19:34:00.007-06:00

And he [Jesus] did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith. Matthew 13:58

The story is told in the verses preceding this one that Jesus came to His hometown planning to minister to his neighbors and friends, just as He had to the multitudes in other cities. His teaching surprised and amazed them, alright. But the locals weren’t convinced. He was one of them. The women washed clothes at the river with His mother, Mary; Joseph, His father, constructed their cabinets; and each of his brothers and sisters were literally “the guy or girl next door.” Nothing Jesus could say or do convinced them that He had any more power or authority than anyone else in town.

Jesus sensed their disbelief. He tried, but failed to gain their trust. Daily in other locations He was approached by those with needs or sicknesses, and He performed miracle after miracle. The simple act of requesting aid, of bringing the sick and the lame to Jesus, you see, demonstrated faith in Him. Evidently, Jesus’ hometown friends and neighbors didn’t line up, expecting the miraculous. Despite Jesus’ reputation and obvious words of wisdom, their hearts were clouded by disbelief and cynicism.

I think I experienced a tiny glimpse of what Jesus must have felt at the end of my Preschool class today. While several children finished up their snacks, I let the remaining children do somersaults on gym mats. “It’s time to line up. Your parents are here,” I announced after several rounds of somersaulting.

Immediately, a child just finishing his snack at the table burst into tears. “You didn’t let me have a turn!” he wailed.

I didn’t immediately go to him. First, I lined up the children who immediately followed directions. When I did approach him I said, “You know, if you had just asked me, I would have made sure you had a turn on the mat before you had to go. Next time, don’t cry. Just ask.”

This illustration may be a stretch -I certainly can't perform miracles like Jesus did- but I was disappointed that my student didn’t trust me enough to ask a simple favor, or to expect that I might grant him one. Jesus must have felt that way, too, when the people who watched him grow up, who worked with him, worshipped with him, and knew his entire family heard his message, but didn’t trust his heart enough to ask for favors. Since few were asked for, few were granted.

How often have I been guilty of the same thing? Do I always see God as a loving Father who wants the very best for me? Do I trust His heart enough to go to Him with each and every concern and request, fully expecting Him to do the miraculous, or do I try to fix things on my own, assuming that God won’t give me the results I want, anyway?

Father God, help me always to remember who You are; to come to You often, trusting in Your goodness, believing in Your power, expecting the miraculous.

If you would like to participate in this meme or read more thoughts on this verse, you will find the links at An Open Book. I am so excited that Joanne decided to start Monday Manna up once again!

Breathe!

2011-01-20T21:53:00.007-06:00

Breathe!
By Sharlyn Guthrie

From the sea fate called to me,
harmless ‘round my ankles danced.
Brimming with frivolity
my heart leaped in, taking the chance.

Like my mood the waves were grand,
spurting high above the swells,
blithely scooping up the sand,
rearranging all the shells.

Eagerly I caught the next,
rode its fluid, forceful back,
felt the muscle that it flexed-
surging strength my spirit lacked.

Repeatedly I safely lit
with abandon, bliss and pride.
I rode each crest with half a wit,
trusting fluctuating tide.

Heedless, forging deeper still,
I left the safety of the shore,
seeking yet a greater thrill
above the ocean’s mighty roar.

At last I rode so deep, so far
my feeble arms could never swim
to yonder shore or distant bar.
I journeyed there upon a whim.

Until then, fate was my friend.
Suddenly he turned about-
turned deserter in the end,
mimicking my panicked shout.

Breakers crashed above my head,
felled me with tremendous force.
I sank down with fear and dread,
gulped salt water and remorse.

Flailing arms grasped liquid air.
Vain, I’d failed to leash my board.
Absorbed with merriment, I’d dared
to take my eyes off of the shore.

Hopeless, helpless I was tossed.
Billows whirled and whipped about.
I knew then that all was lost,
perceived it well, without a doubt.

As the ocean roiled and seethed
sturdy arms lifted my head,
bidding me to simply breathe…
“Breathe!” is all the Lifeguard said.

One breath, I think of it, amazed!
Strength restored, spirit renewed.
Refocusing my fickle gaze,
I saw that I had been pursued.

Foolishly I’d rushed to play.
Wiser eyes followed me there.
Though I drifted far away,
He marked my every move with care.

I soon inhaled with greater ease.
Deft, He steered me to the shore.
With gratitude my heart was seized.
The Lifeguard gave me life once more.

This poem is fictional, in that I have never even tried surfing. I hope the analogy and application are clear, though. I wrote this several years ago for the topic, "Breathe". Visit Vonnie at My Back Door to find links to more great Friday Fiction.

Color in Black and White

2011-01-11T16:10:00.005-06:00

The world outside my window is grayscale today. Snow covers the lawn and shrubs. Trees splay their branches like black, wispy webs against colorless sky, light snow filling the spaces between them. Another winter day begins. The new fallen snow is dull, lacking the glistening of sunshine upon it. I long for sunshine and the warmth that sunshine allows me to imagine, even when the temperature hovers well below freezing.

Don’t misunderstand. I love snow, but in mid-winter I long for the colors of the other seasons: spring green foliage dotted with pink, yellow, and white blossoms; vibrant roses, gerbera daisies, and zinnias of summer; autumn’s leaves in hues of gold, brown, and red. Comparatively, winter is drab, color seemingly suspended, along with hibernating reptiles and dormant tulip bulbs.

I am as drawn to color as a hummingbird that on summer days is attracted to the boldest of blooms. My wardrobe has always been vibrant, much to the chagrin of my fashion expert friends. Classic whites, beiges, and blacks are rare finds in my closet. When I first happened upon a “Dressing Gaudy” store, I flitted furiously from rack to rack in great excitement, resembling said hummingbird. I rejoiced, knowing that others of my kind existed in numbers at least great enough to justify our own store.

Upon traveling to Africa, I was delighted to discover many more of my kind while attending an event of high intensity, both in color and energy. African women came swathed in bold batik and kente fabrics, boasting every polychromatic tint and hue. In a culture of almost exclusively earthen toned backdrops, colorful adornments ignite both the landscape and the spirit.

In expressing my delight over this visual feast I remarked to my African hostess on the contrast between colorful African attire versus Americans’ more casual, reserved color and style preferences. “Americans take so much for granted,” she stated simply. I knew she was right, and I also knew that her comment encompassed more than color choices. I felt rich in the midst of Africa’s extreme poverty, and conspicuously healthy as I witnessed firsthand the effects of AIDS and other serious illnesses.

I smile on this dreary day, envisioning ebony women in bright raiment dancing in settings of sepia. The memory sends me twirling in my plaid housecoat, pirouetting in pink fluffy slippers. A flash of red in a setting of gray stops me mid-turn, causing me to pause and peer out my kitchen window.

I lean against the counter, taking in the vision. A red-headed woodpecker with black and white flecked belly hangs upside down on the birdfeeder. Slightly faded gold finches select their favorite offerings from above, dropping several tidbits to the ground below, where a cardinal cheerfully retrieves them.

Two brilliant blue jays flapping azure wings arrive, sending the finches skyward and the cardinal to nearby branch where it preens its scarlet plumage. The picture perfect scene is stunning.

Color, it occurs to me, is greatly enhanced by lackluster surroundings. In the same way that good health is more valued in the context of AIDS, and wealth against a backdrop of poverty, color is more beautiful in grayscale.

Do you suppose that, knowing this, the world’s Master Architect and Builder wisely planned for vibrant birds to spice up winter landscapes? Today, as I survey the scene in my own backyard, I am more convinced than ever that He did. Today I realize anew that I have taken much for granted.

All That Bristles is not a Broom

2011-01-06T23:10:00.008-06:00

Continuing on the subject of wise sayings, I thought I would share this story I wrote for the Faithwriters challenge topic "Illustrate the saying, 'Don't cut off your nose to spite your face'." You can probably tell that I had a lot of fun writing it!

All That Bristles Is Not a Broom
by Sharlyn Guthrie

Tall, lean Bromley Bristlemore is a broom maker. His wiry blonde hair fans out evenly in every direction, meeting his bushy beard on both sides of his face. Bromley himself could easily be imagined as a broom standing up on its stick. His grandfather founded Bristlemore Brooms, claiming the motto, “the best broom money can buy.” Three generations later Bromley was swept into the business with the untimely passing of his father.

Unfortunately, by the time Bromley and his new bride, Bea, came on the scene nobody was buying brooms. Once a stiff competitor, Bristlemore Brooms had lost its edge. “Broom making is all I know,” Bromley stated with a tone of finality as Bea pressed him to discuss their options. And so a disenchanted, discouraged Bromley continued his daily habit of binding broom corn to expertly turned birch handles. Then he stacked each finely crafted specimen in an ever-growing pile –simply because he couldn’t think of anything else to do.

Bea sat helplessly by until she could take it no longer. The couple needed an income, and Bromley’s brooms were not selling. Not one to despair, Bea got busy instead. First, she swept the cobwebs from the showroom window, cleaning it until it sparkled. Next, she fashioned a viewing counter near enough to the window to be seen by passersby. Finally, she added two words to the sign that hung in the window: Bristlemore Brooms and Bakery.

Bromley mumbled and grumbled, predicting further doom, as his wife buzzed around him, but Bea could not be dissuaded. She baked five loaves of bread and four dozen cookies for the first day of bakery business, all of which Bromley sold by noon. Cautiously optimistic, she doubled her efforts the following day.

The trend continued. Bromley’s deserted Broom shop bustled with activity once again. Occasionally a bakery customer even purchased a broom along with their bag of bagels. In fact, Bromley was so busy waiting on customers that his broom making efforts were all but abandoned.

Bea spent her nighttime hours baking. She whipped up rich red raspberry tarts, light-as-chiffon croissants, angel food cakes as tall as oatmeal boxes, and popovers oozing silky sweetness. Each morning she restocked the counter, and then spent the remaining part of the day sleeping.

News of the fabulous baked goods scattered like dust bunnies throughout the town. Bromley should have been pleased, but instead he despised his wife for her tireless determination, and even more so for her success.

“My compliments to the baker of these fine delicacies,” exclaimed the mayor one morning, swiping cinnamon from the corners of his mouth as he handed Bromley a dollar bill.

“Why, thank you.”

“You mean to say that you, the broom maker, are also the baker? I would have thought the baker might be your wife.”

“You obviously don’t know my wife, sir.” Sarcasm dripped unchecked from Bromley’s lips. “She’s as lazy as a cat in a castle, and just as fat, too. Why, she very nearly eats what I make in profits.”

“You don’t say! Then she must not be the one who stands behind you with that tray full of doughnuts.”

Bromley spun around just in time to glimpse eight dozen hot, sticky doughnuts raining down upon him. One very stunned Bea broke into sobs. Despite being caught in such an atrocity however, Bromley brushed off Bea’s sorrow and her offer of forgiveness as easily as he did the bits of doughnuts clinging to his beard.

Bea accepted the mayor’s offer of a newly remodeled store front for her bakery as part of a downtown improvement project. She hired assistants and moved into the apartment directly above her bakery. Her efforts were rewarded, and her cheerful disposition continues to win and charm customers to this day.

The sign in Bromley’s window now reads “Bristlemore Brooms” once more. The once-sparkling window has grown as clouded and dark as Bromley’s mood and demeanor. His stack of brooms, however, continues to mount even as his back and shoulders bow.

At six-thirty each evening, Bromley glumly wheels his broom cart along the sidewalk toward Bea’s Bakery. He stops at the door, turns the key in the lock, and sweeps up flour and pastry crumbs with the finest broom money can buy. Later he dines alone, munching on day-old bread spread thick with resentment –a table knife clutched in one hand; a grudge in the other.

Because of our innate selfishness, it is often difficult for us to view marriage as the one-flesh relationship God created it to be, but whenever we set out to defeat our spouse both individuals lose. Therefore, it is easy to "cut off my nose to spite my face" in marriage. Have you seen or experienced other situations in which this saying is true? Tell me about them!

Karlene is hosting Fiction Friday this week at Homespun Expressions. I hope you will take time to visit her blog and follow the links to more Friday fiction.

New "Wisdom" for a New Year

2011-01-01T09:43:00.008-06:00

1-1-11 marks the second anniversary of my blog! Since Noah helped to name my blog two years ago (he was three at the time), I thought it fitting to let him help me write this blog post for the New Year. This worked out perfectly, as he and Claire spent the night and all day Thursday with Grandma and Papa. Claire and I dressed dollies and polished our nails while Noah played piano, then Noah and I read “SkippyJon Jones” books and worked on the blog post while Claire napped.

On last year’s anniversary, I wrote about my Grandma’s leftover soup. Grandma was better known for her little adages or bits of wisdom; if she were still alive today, she would be 108! I thought it would be fun to tell Noah some of Grandma’s sayings, but let him provide his own endings. It proved to be a lot of fun for both of us. Are you ready? Here they are:

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man ………tired.

Haste makes ………you fall down.

If a thing is worth doing it’s ………making a funny face.

If you can’t stand the heat ……….get some new batteries.

Never underestimate the power of ......a car. (I hope he remembers that when he’s 16!)

You can lead a horse to water, but ......the horse can drink it. (Is that really fair?)

Laugh and the whole world laughs with you; cry, and ......your dad will make you laugh.

Don’t put all your eggs in ......your backpack.

A bird in the hand is ......light.

Better to be safe than ......slow.

A penny saved is ......one cent –that’s easy!

All work and no play makes ......no fun.

Don’t bite the hand that ......scratches you.

It’s always darkest before ......bedtime.

Two is company, three is ......better.

You can’t teach an old dog ......to dance.
(Papa thinks this excuses him from ballroom dance lessons this year!)

Every dog has its ......bone.

Wasn’t that fun? But we aren’t finished yet. Noah’s final saying is the one I want you to remember this year:

The best things in life are ......sharing and hugging.

What a great thing to remember, whether you’re 5 or 108! Both sharing and hugging are free, by the way. Neither of these can be accomplished alone, however, so spend every day sharing what you have with others, and don’t be stingy with your hugs. It will make 2011 much, much better –Noah and I promise! Happy New Year, my friends! May God, who shared his best gift with us, be your source of blessings and courage throughout all the days of the coming year.

2010-12-23T14:07:00.005-06:00

As I wrote this poem I considered how remarkable it actually is that most of the world pauses to honor Christ one day each year. Granted, many wouldn't admit that this is what they are doing, but truly, in celebrating His birth, and keeping "the spirit of Christmas" alive, they are honoring, or at least acknowledging Jesus. It is still a far cry from what God expects of us, but it is a tiny, imperfect foretaste of the day when "...every knee shall bow ...and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord..." (Phil. 2:10-11)

Joy to the World, the Lord is come! Merry Christmas, my friends!

For Just One Day
By Sharlyn Guthrie

For just one day
we will not go
into the city
or the town.
I’m thinking, though,
we’ll light a fire
to sit around
with those we know
and love who will be home
…for just one day.

For just one day
we’ll tolerate
unbridled joy,
excessive noise,
squeals from children
gleefully
unwrapping toys
with laser sounds
and high pitched squawks
…for just one day.

For just one day
we’ll disregard
high calories
and extra fat,
plus sugared things
we ought to shun.
Tomorrow we’ll go back to that,
but we’ll have candy,
pie, and fudge
…for just one day

For just one day
we’ll set aside
our differences,
our selfish pride.
We’ll do our best
to keep the peace
and not take sides.
We know we must
because it’s right
…for just one day

For just one day
we’ll light the wicks
of candles we
have never lit;
use fine china,
crystal too;
in merriment
wipe dust from games
we rarely play
…for just one day.

For just one day
the world will slow—
perhaps not kneel,
but genuflect;
pay homage to
our God and King,
show some respect.
This side of Heaven
it’s what we get
…for just one day

Christmas Candy Capers

2010-12-16T22:22:00.005-06:00

Today I am sharing another true story, this time from (ahem!) just a few years back. Catrina of A Work in Progress is the hostess of Fiction Friday this week, so be sure to pay her a visit.

Christmas Candy Capers
by Sharlyn Guthrie

Soon after school began the fall of my junior year, my chemistry teacher phoned me at home. “I know you like cats,” she began, “so I wondered if you would be up to a special challenge. My cat had kittens and she has a runt that needs more care than I can give. Are you interested?”

Of course I was interested! However, since my mother would need to help out with the care during the day, and would eventually take full responsibility for the cat when I went off to college, I had to consult her. Much to my surprise, she agreed.

The tiny limp bundle looked hopeless. She lay curled in the corner of a shoebox bed, unable to even lift her tiny head. We placed a crook-necked lamp above her to keep her warm and began hourly feedings with an eyedropper.

After several days our frail feline emitted a soft sound whenever we approached. Since her cry sounded a bit like bagpipes, we named her Musette. Soon she was standing, and a larger box was needed to contain her. We added a litter box, which she took to immediately.

After a couple of weeks I started carrying Musette on my shoulder. She was still tiny and maintained her parrot-like balance perfectly as I went about my everyday tasks. As time went on she learned to climb up my clothing in order to reach my shoulder. Fortunately, she remained a perpetual kitten size-wise, but her affinity for climbing knew no limits. She also climbed the couch, the curtains, and the hall tree. We found her in the basement rafters, on top of the refrigerator, and curled inside a hat on the closet shelf.

Christmas time came and Mother decorated the house as usual. In fact, even more than usual, since she planned to do some entertaining before the entire family came home for the holidays. In the center of the dining room table she placed a handmade centerpiece of wrapped hard candies, strictly forbidding my father and I to eat even one piece of candy until the centerpiece had served its decorative purpose.

A tall, narrow Christmas tree was erected in the living room, strung with colored lights and silver tinsel. The tree was purposely chosen for its full, close branches, and a quilt was wrapped around its base to prevent a certain kitten from climbing its trunk. Musette batted at the low strands of tinsel and catnapped on the quilt, but surprisingly left the tree alone.

It was my father who astounded me. Despite Mother’s stern warnings, pieces of candy began disappearing one-by-one from the centerpiece. When Mother chided us as she filled in the holes, my father feigned innocence. I hadn’t touched a single piece, so he was obviously the guilty one!

One late December day I returned home from school to a houseful of women -the members of my mother’s Bible study group. While I unloaded my books in my upstairs bedroom, Musette scampered up my pants leg and onto my shoulder where she remained until I descended the stairs a few minutes later.

I was halfway down the stairs when Musette took a flying leap toward the Christmas tree. Her scrawny legs scrambled and clawed, eventually snagging the lights, which wrapped around and held her dangling upside down between the tree and the wall. Her bagpipe cry wasn’t soft, but piercing just then. Worried that Musette was being electrocuted, my mother quickly unplugged the lights, which sent the kitten swinging. A desperate attempt to escape brought the tree crashing onto the floor, and the kitten dashing for safety.

My poor mother was mortified as her friends began scrambling after the scattered ornaments.

“What’s this?” one woman asked as she knelt at the base of the tree. “Do you normally hide candy under here?” Mother and I rushed to her side and there, under the quilt, was a pile of hard candies, still in wrappers. The mystery of the disappearing candy began unraveling as the identity of the candy thief became apparent, and across the room I glimpsed the twitching of a thin gray tail sticking out from underneath the drapes.

Bum's The Word

2010-12-10T00:08:00.007-06:00

Debra is hosting Fiction Friday today. Pay her a visit and find more links to great fiction, or leave your link to your own story.

Brighter days are back and it's time to lighten up my blog a bit. For today's Friday Fiction I've chosen a story well-suited to this time of year. The story is actually true, having taken place last December. Hope it makes you smile.

Bum’s the Word
by Sharlyn Guthrie

My quest for blue jeans in my husband’s desired size, style, and shade landed me in a mall thirty miles from home one crazy December afternoon. Christmas was approaching, and said blue jeans were on the “gotta find ‘em “ list. So, when a phone call from our local store confirmed that the distant store did, in fact, have them in stock, I was on my way.

Since the jeans were on hold, I made my purchase quickly. Then, I reasoned that I should shop for a few other items on my list. After all, this mall was larger than our local mall, and I might be spared another trip or some last minute headaches.

Soon I found myself in the jewelry department of a fine department store, selecting some earrings. The rack I was searching reached nearly to the floor, and of course the most compelling colors hung enticingly near the bottom of the display. So there I was, bent over at the waist, with my posterior sticking out into the aisle. I knew it wasn’t the most flattering or lady-like pose, but it couldn’t be helped. “Hmmm, shall I buy the red chandelier earrings, or the purple sparkly ones?”

Whap! The slap to my derriere brought me immediately erect. Incredulous, I turned to see who had been so rude. To my right there was no one in sight; to my left a saleslady was walking briskly away. She glanced backward, however, and her face wore a mischievous grin.

The saleslady’s grin lasted only an instant. She froze when she saw me, and we stood staring at each other with matched expressions, both seeming to say, “Huh?” Finally, short, exclamatory sentences came tumbling from her lips.

“Oh my goodness! You’re not Susan! I’m so sorry! I thought you were Susan! You look just like her -at least that side of you did! Oh no! I can’t believe it! I just spanked a customer!” Her face had lost its color and the grin I had glimpsed for a moment had vanished. Her associates gathered around, and were no doubt trying to remember protocol for such an incident. Since they couldn’t come up with any, they all just stood there, watching and waiting to see how it played out. The poor woman was distraught.

I couldn’t think of any protocol either, so I did what came naturally. I laughed. Soon her co-workers joined in, and finally Saleslady, herself, cracked a feeble smile.

“I’ll probably lose my job over this,” she lamented as I handed her the earrings I had chosen to buy. “That was such a stupid thing for me to do. You have no idea how sorry I am. Let me buy these for you,” she said, taking them from my hand.

“Look, it was a mistake, and a funny one at that. I have no intention of reporting you,” I told her, “and I won’t let you buy my earrings; but if it makes you feel better, maybe you can give me the sale price that’s supposed to start tomorrow.”

“Really? You’re not going to report me? I can’t believe it.”

“Consider yourself forgiven,” I said, “but don’t expect me to forget this. It’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever experienced. What a great story! Don’t worry, though. Mum’s the word. I’ll never reveal your identity.”

We continued our banter while Saleslady rang up the earrings at the sale price, and I could tell she was feeling less threatened. Then she handed me the receipt. “Oh Ma’am,” she said, leaning in close across the counter, “Spank you very much!”

“Those who conceal their sins do not prosper, but those who confess and renounce them find mercy.” Proverbs 28:13 (Today’s NIV)

Praising God for Answered Prayer

2010-12-06T10:01:00.002-06:00

“Give thanks to the Lord for He is good. His love endures forever!” Psalm 136:1

Wednesday, December 1st, was surgery day, and I am thankful it is over. I knew that many were praying for me. I, too, had prayed relentlessly as I awaited this day, and I approached with a positive attitude.

Perhaps I should back up and say that I had an ultrasound the previous Wednesday (the day before Thanksgiving). The technician had a difficult time finding the tumor, partially because of a large hematoma that remained from the biopsy. When the radiologist came in, however, he repositioned me a couple of times and finally found what he pointed out as the mass. He said that it had been nearly out of range of the biopsy needle, but it looked to him like the tip of the needle had barely nicked the edge of it, which was probably why just a few cells showed up in the biopsy. I had a clear view of what he was pointing out, and it certainly looked and sounded reasonable. I was encouraged to know that it had been located. On Monday the surgeon’s office called and said that two tumors had actually been identified in the ultrasound, but they were side by side, and would be removed together.

My first procedure on the surgery day involved another ultrasound with a different radiologist. It was her job to insert a wire to locate the mass that would be removed. I could tell she was in a hurry, and she couldn’t find the tumors the other radiologist saw. I tried to tell her where they were in relation to the ceramic marker left behind to mark the biopsy area, but she didn’t want to hear it. In fact she retorted, “I don’t even know why your doctor ordered that other ultrasound. It was completely unnecessary. This one is the only one that matters!”

I told the radiologist that I wanted to be sure we had the right area because I didn’t want to go through all of this again, to which she replied, “Well, about twenty percent of our patients have to return to have more tissue removed at a later time. That’s just the way it is.” Of course this was not what I wanted to hear immediately before surgery. I was ready to back out of the whole thing! She then went ahead with the wire insertion -in a less than gentle manner- stopping at the ceramic marker. I endured several painful and anxious moments. Thankfully, John had insisted on coming in with me and was there to pat my feet and ask questions. This no doubt further annoyed the radiologist, but it was of great comfort to me!

The bright spot in that whole experience was my nurse, Terri, who took the time to tell me what a good job I was doing throughout a difficult procedure. She also told me she was praying for me, which meant a lot! She was like a cold drink of water in the middle of the desert.

Upon returning to my surgery room, my pastor and another church friend were waiting to pray with me –what a comfort it was to hear prayers spoken on my behalf, especially at a time when I was feeling so vulnerable.

I have been reading A Praying Life by Paul Miller. He speaks of helplessness as one of the most important doorways to prayer. “God wants us to come to him empty-handed, weary, and heavy-laden. Instinctively, we want to get rid of our helplessness before we come to God…Jesus isn’t asking us to do anything he isn’t already doing. He is inviting us into his life of helpless dependence on his heavenly Father.” It’s true. My pride causes me to try to get everything under control before I come to God in prayer, but in this situation it was completely beyond my ability to do so. I can testify that prayer is never more appreciated or more effective than when I am completely helpless, as I was in those moments before surgery.

I had a few minutes to speak with the surgeon, and John and I both shared some of our concerns from the needle localization experience. He did his best to calm us down and assure us that he felt confident that he would be able to get all of it, regardless of whether the specific spot was located, since he planned to take out a wider area. After the surgery, he described the area he removed as “golf ball sized.”

I came home the same evening and began my recovery.

Some friends had brought food to us, and I hadn’t eaten for 24 hours so I was hungry, but I found that my throat was extremely sore from the breathing tube insertion, so I couldn’t eat, or even drink, much. I soon learned as well that the pain medication I was given had the undesired effect of keeping me awake and wired. I didn’t sleep the first night or the next day. Finally, after the second night, I called and got a different prescription. Ah, how wonderful it felt to rest on Friday!

Late Friday afternoon I was surprised by a phone call from the surgeon’s office. The pathology report was in, and the surgery was successful! A Phyllodes tumor was removed with good margins all around it. What was seen the week before as two tumors was most likely just the unusual shape of the one. This was the best possible news! No more surgery will be required, and there is little likelihood of a recurrence, since they got a good margin around it. We are praising God for guiding the surgeon’s hand and for proving, once again, His faithfulness and love. Yes, I believe I had an excellent, skilled surgeon, as well, but his work was directed by my Father, the Great Physician.

I have a wonderful friend subbing for me in preschool until I get my strength back. In the mean time I am resting, listening to plenty of Christmas music, and doing some Christmas shopping online! My throat is still very sore, but otherwise I am healing nicely.

Thank you for your prayers and kind words. It is humbling to be the recipient of such kindness, but it is also a blessing beyond compare!

A Path Unknown

2010-11-19T16:30:00.005-06:00

A Path Unknown
by Sharlyn Guthrie

Today I walk along a path unknown;
I must admit I never would have come here on my own.
In fact, I don’t know how I happened here,
or where this path will lead; there is so much that is unclear.

But He knows when I sit and when I rise.
He hems me in before and then He hems me in behind.
And when I cry out in the dead of night,
the darkness isn’t dark to Him; He fills it with His light.

Today it seems I have a choice to make.
I could denounce this path as some immense divine mistake,
or I could view it as a chance to rest
within my Father’s loving arms, held safe against His breast.

For He knows when I sit and when I rise.
He hems me in before and then He hems me in behind.
And when I cry out in the dead of night,
the darkness isn’t dark to Him; He fills it with His light.

I don’t know where or when this path will end,
but God, the mighty warrior, walks beside me as a friend.
His perfect love my anxious heart will still,
and over me He will rejoice, with songs my senses fill.

For He knows when I sit and when I rise.
He hems me in before and then He hems me in behind.
And when I cry out in the dead of night,
the darkness isn’t dark to Him; He fills it with His light.

Lord, you know when I sit and when I rise.
You hem me in before and then You hem me in behind.
And when I cry out in the dead of night,
the darkness isn’t dark to You; You fill it with Your light.

Based on:
Psalm 139:2,5,12
Zephaniah 3:17

Two and a half weeks ago, following a needle biopsy on my breast, I learned that I have a rare form of breast cancer –a Phyllodes tumor. I had never heard of this diagnosis before, and as you might guess it raised a lot of questions. The nurse who gave me the news couldn’t tell me anything except that it would require surgery. My own doctor’s nurse only told me that this type of tumor is “unpredictable,” and although it is benign, it has malignant potential. I began reading everything I could find online, and even more questions were raised.

Finally, I met with a surgeon this week. He was very helpful and patient with all of my questions, carefully answering each of them and reassuring me as best he could. The surgery (a wide margin excision) was scheduled for December 1st. I am relieved to have the date set, and I welcome your prayers for the surgery.
I have many reasons to feel thankful and blessed. Apparently, we caught this growth much earlier than is usually possible, and it is benign, meaning that it does not metastasize. I also have a wonderful support system through my family, friends, and church. Still, it hasn’t been easy.

I first became aware of concerns over my mammogram September 2nd. That means that three months will have elapsed by the time I have surgery on December 1st. Strangely enough, the most difficult thing for me was committing to have the needle biopsy.

Following a routine mammogram I was asked to return for a magnification mammogram. A radiologist showed me the results and spoke to me before I left. She was concerned about some micro-calcifications too small to see clearly, even with magnification. Although 80 to 90 percent of micro-calcifications are benign, she wanted me to have a large core needle biopsy on the area. For this procedure I would lie on my stomach on a raised table, my breast hanging through an opening, as multiple tissue samples were extracted from it by the physician below.

The original mammogram was done the last day of our insurance eligibility before John retired. Our insurance coverage was now catastrophic with a high deductible. I knew nothing about this new insurance, except that we were starting from scratch, and I figured this probably wasn’t a good way to start. I was more annoyed than anything, thinking that this biopsy was most likely an unnecessary procedure. I had already learned that it was very costly. I agreed to think and pray about it before deciding.

I was taken by surprise in the middle of that night when I awoke shaking, tears streaming, soaking my pillow. I supposed that it had to do with the dilemma I was facing, although I hadn’t felt the anxiety earlier in the day. So, I prayed specifically asking God to grant me wisdom and peace, but the same thing happened the following night and the night after that. I knew that this reaction was extreme, but I also felt that I needed to understand why I was reacting this way before I made my decision.

Two weeks passed. I had a few restful nights here and there, but most were interrupted. Finally, during one of my now familiar episodes, I prayed earnestly for both wisdom and peace. This time God answered immediately in the form of a revelation. I was transported to a time when I was twelve years old, pinned against the wall by my brother in law, powerless to protect my developing breasts as he pinched and prodded. Now the tears came like a flood. Isn’t it amazing how memories that have supposedly been put to rest can retain such power several decades later? I realized then that my overwhelming fear was not about the outcome of the biopsy, or even about the exorbitant cost, but about the procedure itself or more specifically, my vulnerability during the procedure. With that realization came an overwhelming sense of peace about going ahead with the biopsy –not that I thought it would be a piece of cake- but I knew that, with God’s help, I would now be able to handle it. What an amazing, direct answer to prayer!

The following day I called my doctor and asked to have the biopsy scheduled.
Those who know me know that I am pretty laid back. I have never minded having dental work or other medical procedures, including surgery. I had many people praying for me, and I could sense their prayers. Still, enduring that procedure was a serious exercise in trust and dependence on God. I softly cried my way through it and was exhausted when it was over.

But it wasn’t over. A few days later I learned the results of the biopsy. Since then it has become apparent that God answered the other portion of my prayer, granting me wisdom to go ahead with the biopsy. As I suspected, the microcalcifications didn’t turn out to be of any concern. Nor do they normally have any correlation with a Phyllodes tumor. However, since the mammogram did not reveal a tumor, mine most likely would not have been found until it grew much larger and more problematic, had it not been for the biopsy. Thank you, precious Holy Spirit, for the wisdom, peace, and direction that only You could give!

These past three months have been filled with crazy, unfamiliar emotions. From the very beginning, however, I have recognized this season as an opportunity to hold onto my Father, God, and trust Him like never before. Spending more time with Him has been sweet, for in the midst of uncertainty it is comforting to always find Him there. I can truly say I am thankful for the ways I have grown in dependence on Him, and the tender ways He has ministered to me through His Word, song lyrics, my husband, wonderful friends, and yes, even middle of the night panic attacks.

The song at the beginning of this post is also a product of this difficult time –a blend of messages God has delivered to me in various ways. It occurred to me after I finished writing these words that my entire life is really “A Path Unknown.” When things are going my way it’s easy to fool myself, thinking I know what tomorrow or next month or even next year will bring, but my plans are only good for as far as I can see. They can unravel very quickly. I am so thankful that the all-knowing, all-seeing, ever-present God is my friend and constant companion through all of life’s uncertainties.

Today I am sharing my heart with you, along with some unpleasant details of my life, both past and present. I pray that it may in some way encourage you in facing the obstacles and uncertainties of your own life, or help prepare you for the trials that may eventually find you. Perhaps I have included too much information, but if any part of this message blesses or encourages you, if it draws you into closer fellowship and dependence on Jesus Christ, or evokes an attitude of thankfulness and praise, my journey down this path has been worthwhile. Give God the glory. He alone is worthy!

Ultimately, the best advice on the topic of trials is found in James 1: 2-5 (NIV) “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. “

A Duck Out of Water

2010-11-12T07:47:00.004-06:00

I have the honor of hosting Fiction Friday today. I hope you will join us. Just sign up on the Linky at the end of this post and link to your own original fiction.

A Duck Out of Water
by Sharlyn Guthrie

Last year I joined a gym. I was only one of the hordes that signed up in January following two months of eating like a ravenous sumo wrestler. After popping the buttons off several pairs of slacks, I knew that it was time to take action.

It had been years since I took physical fitness seriously. My shape had become so frumpy I could barely admit to myself, let alone anyone else, that I had once been an aerobics instructor. Well, it was never too late to make a fresh start. At least that‘s what I had always told those who joined my classes.

I was no fool. I started out easy, first choosing water aerobics and stationary bicycling. Both of these provided good exercise without requiring total concentration. I prayed through long lists of prayer requests during water aerobics. While bicycling, I became engrossed in inspiring Christian music on my MP3 player as I fancied myself cruising along serene country paths.

Long forgotten muscle groups screamed their resistance, but eventually I gained strength and endurance. My confidence grew, and I felt ready to move on.

Scanning the schedule of classes, I discovered that the gym’s offerings had changed during my absence from the fitness scene. For some un-explainable reason, I settled on kickboxing as my next endeavor.

Kickboxing moved at a killer pace as compared to that of water aerobics, and the music was much less serene than what I enjoyed while bicycling. I struggled to match the tempo as sweat formed puddles under my feet. I felt like a duck out of water. Perhaps I was better suited for Bingo tournaments.

While most of the women in the class wore compression shorts and sports bras designed to accent their slender, youthful bodies, I wore baggy T-shirts and sweatpants in order to conceal mine. I had to think and move more quickly than I was accustomed to. On more than a few occasions I turned the wrong direction, narrowly missing my neighbor’s side kick or forward jab. Yikes!

But the maladjustment went even deeper than that. You see, I am a gentle soul –a peacemaker type. Kickboxing is anything but peaceful. Bobbing and weaving while aiming uppercuts at imaginary rivals was simply not in my nature. In fact, it made me laugh. After all, I had no plans to hang out in dark alleys any time soon.

Suffice it to say that I didn’t take my new pursuit seriously. During my first several sessions the instructor exhibited considerable patience and restraint, but that was about to change. One day I settled into the now-familiar routine and allowed my mind to entertain possible ideas for a story I was writing.

“Pay attention! Focus! Your opponent is right in front of you!” The reprimand was directed at me, only inches from my face. Jolted out of dreamland, I heeded the command, my cheeks stinging from more than the heat of exertion. During the remainder of that class every part of my being remained engaged.

Afterwards, I licked my wounds; or rather I licked the residue of hot fudge from my lips after indulging in an unhealthy amount of self-pity.

Finally, though, I confessed to myself that the instructor was right. She had accurately perceived my lack of enthusiasm and attentiveness. Until that day I had no intention of taking kickboxing seriously. I decided then and there that my attitude had to change if I was to continue.

As I considered my dilemma, the instructor’s words resounded. They rang with familiarity and truth, although I couldn’t pinpoint why until I came across this verse: “Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.”* The words packed a powerful dummy punch, reminding me that I had lost sight of my spiritual enemy.

Is that what had made me vulnerable to overindulgence and lack of motivation in my physical struggles as well?

Oh Lord, keep me focused and alert. Guard me from growing too comfortable in my spiritual routines. Make me aware of the enemy who seeks to devour me. Strengthen me through the power of Your Holy Spirit. Thank you, Lord, for jarring me out of my complacency.

I returned to kickboxing with a new attitude and a new strategy. My opponent was real. He had a name and a purpose. I would take him seriously, blocking his every move. It added vigor to my workout and prudence to my continued peaceful existence.

My attitude adjustment would not, however, be accompanied by a wardrobe adjustment any time soon.

*I Peter 5:8 NASV

A Prayer in the Witching Hour

2010-10-15T07:42:00.003-05:00

I wrote the following prayer for the topic "missionary" in the Faithwriters writing challenge. It earned 2nd place overall. It is fictional, in that I wrote it before I had any personal experience with mission work. It is based on conversations with close friends who had experienced fear, loneliness, and other difficult situations and emotions as foreign missionaries. These are the things that aren't often addressed in a traditional missions update. These are the reasons we should hold our missionaries up in prayer on a regular basis. They are people just like any of us, endowed with every human frailty and emotion.

A Prayer in the Witching Hour
by Sharlyn Guthrie

Where are You, God?

Shadows submerge me in darkness. Gloom enshrouds me like a grave. It is the witching hour and the presence of evil is great. Where is Your Goodness? Heavy, my eyelids close. But sleep eludes me. The pallet is too hard, and I miss my pillow.

Where are You, God?

Today I walked strange paths, lined with unfamiliar sights. People pressed against me, people whose manner and odor were strong. I peered into gaunt faces with toothless smiles. Questioning eyes stalked me. Children pointed and giggled as I passed. Adults touched my pale skin and stroked my silky hair. Uncertain, I continued in silence, fearful of committing a cultural sin or murdering their native tongue.

Where are You, God?

My perceptions are keen, but You are remote. I search for a glimpse of Your beauty, but see only squalor. Where is your fragrance? These streets reek of urine. Your voice is drowned by distant drums rumbling to placate the demons. I cannot feel Your arms around me.

Where are You, God?

I heeded Your call and followed You here. You should be nearer than ever before, but You are absent. How will I speak unless Your Spirit speaks through me? How will I serve without your strength to hold me up? How will I love unless You love through me? How will I live without Your presence?

Where are You, God?

I found you as a child. My family lavished Your love upon me. Your grace brought me through cancer treatments and a concussion. Your Spirit overflowed in the prayer meeting where I met the aging missionary. Your joy surged through me when I promised to come to this distant land as her replacement. Not until now have I doubted. Was I duped? Deceived?

Where are You, God?

I didn’t know that I would feel so insignificant and out of place. I didn’t know that I would ache to hear my family’s voices. I didn’t know that I would feel repulsed by the very people I came to serve. I didn’t know that nighttime could be this dark or this lonely. I didn’t know that You could be so elusive.

Where are You, God?
“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” (Psalm 139:23-24 NIV)

Where are You, God?

You are in the loneliness, the stench, the unfamiliarity, the darkness, the silence. Slay my selfishness. Forgive my unbelief. Dispel my doubts. Quell my fears. Fill this jar of clay. Then, “I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.” (Psalm 4:8 NIV)

Today's Fiction Friday is being hosted by Karlene at Homespun Expressions. Please take the time to visit her blog and follow the links to some of the other great fiction.

Sequence of Joy

2010-10-11T23:05:00.004-05:00

Sequence of Joy

Like unexpected cool, refreshing rain
showered on the evil and the just,
joy seeps through lingering clouds of grief and pain,
sprinkling those who do and do not trust.

On chance and circumstance this joy depends
…perilously totters on a rail.
A sudden gust or shifting of the winds
topples and defeats its effort frail.

This joy erupts, but soon it must elapse,
as surely as a wilting withering leaf.
Beholden, it drifts just beyond my grasp,
a temporary bliss however brief.

Yet there exists a rare, uncommon joy
for those who lean upon the Father’s breast;
one that doom and crisis can’t destroy,
regardless how they put it to the test.

Planted deep, this joy springs from the Source.
The Spirit tends His flourishing fruit with care.
Inspiring and efficacious force,
His bounteous, blessed gift He’s pleased to share.

Still, joy is tempered here by sin and woe.
The bridegroom yearns to make my joy complete!
Consummate, boundless streams of joy will flow,
Immersing me before His mercy seat.

~Sharlyn Guthrie

September's Sunshine

2010-09-29T22:09:00.012-05:00

Did you happen to notice that this September's sunshine was just a little brighter than usual? I am about to tell you why. It's because my two new beautiful granddaughters were born this month! Since they are, by far, the best news of the month I can’t let the month end without announcing their arrival here, on my blog. The girls were both due September 18th, so we were eager to see when they would actually arrive. As it turned out, they were both in a bit of a hurry!

Hope Lillian Guthrie was born first, on September 2nd, weighing 7 lbs. 6 oz. Besides her mom and dad (Travis and Kristen), Hope joins her “big” sister, Selah, 14 months. Since she lives over 1,000 miles away, we have been dying to meet her; the next three weeks can’t go by fast enough. Romans 5:3-5, a favorite passage of her daddy's, was the inspiration for Hope’s first name.

For Hope

Hope, the meaning of your name
Is more than whimsy or a game;
more than childish fantasy
or wishing well frivolity.

Hope from God is better far
than pot of gold or falling star.
It’s an anchor -safe, secure-
a place to stand when life’s unsure.

Where God’s love and truth abound
A quiet confidence is found,
giving reason to expect
what nobody has seen, just yet.

Hope lifts eyes to Heaven above;
assures us of our Savior’s love;
keeps your feet from stumbling
when things around are crumbling.

On with life, a “hoper” goes;
Needs not cross fingers or toes;
waits with patience and with peace
as both hope and joy increase.

Hope won’t disappoint, you know;
your mom and dad have found it so.
Sweet child, your parents hoped for you.
God answered, and their dreams came true.

~Grandma Guthrie

Olive Joy Guthrie was born September 10th, weighing 10 lbs. 1 oz. She is Tyson’s and Sarah's first and highly anticipated child, arriving one month after their 9th anniversary! I was asked to write a prayer for one of the baby showers held before Olive’s birth. The theme of the shower was, “Wrapped in Love,” and this baby certainly was!

Prayer for the Talents, Abilities, and Spiritual Gifts of Sweet Baby Guthrie

Father, I thank you and praise you for your marvelous works in weaving the intricacies of my new little granddaughter inside Sarah’s womb. I can’t wait to see what talents, abilities and spiritual gifts you have chosen for her. Will she inherit her mother’s artistic flair, or her father’s songwriting talent? Or will she be endowed with abilities exclusively her own?
I only ask that each attribute be used for Your honor and glory. May we celebrate her as a unique, marvelous being. Please give each of us the grace and the wisdom to accept her just as You have designed her, and in doing so, may we light the path that leads her to You, Lord. For even more than my arms ache to hold her, I yearn for the day when she lays each attribute at Your feet, recognizing You as her Savior and King. Thank You, dear Father! Through this precious creation, Tyson and Sarah and each of us who have earnestly prayed for this child are once again in awe of Your grace, faithfulness and love toward us. Praise Your holy name! Amen
~Grandma Guthrie

Olives are symbolic of many things in the Bible: peace, prayer, promises, and anointing. Tyson and Sarah chose the name "Olive" because of the peace God gave them throughout their difficult journey to parenthood.

Welcome, precious girls! Grandma Guthrie loves you already, and I look forward to many days of dollies, tea parties, dress up...and sunshine –especially when all five girl cousins (now age two and under) get together! Noah, you have no idea what family gatherings will be like for you in the future!

Swish, Hush, Shush-a-bye

2010-09-24T07:48:00.006-05:00

Swish, Hush, Shush-a-bye
By Sharlyn Guthrie

“Daddy, what’s that chirping sound that’s coming from the hall?”
A cricket calling for its love, my darling. That is all.
“But Daddy, what’s the loud “harrumph” from way down by the pond?”
Frogs are singing lullabies to tadpoles that have spawned.
“The mama duck is quacking. Why isn’t she asleep?”
From hungry owls and foxes her ducklings she must keep.

Swish, hush, shush-a-bye, rustle, hustle who
wings, sings, brushes by whispering, “God loves you.”

“I think I hear a siren. Don’t policemen go to bed?”
They work all through the nighttime to keep us safe, instead.
“Do other people work at night? O Daddy, tell me, please.”
Doctors, nurses, firemen are just a few of these.
“If just a few, then won’t you tell me, Daddy, are there more?”
Hush, my child, and I will tell of night workers galore:

Swish, hush, shush-a-bye, rustle, hustle who
wings, sings, brushes by whispering, “God loves you.”

Workers stocking grocery shelves and people sorting mail,
pilots, cabbies, bus drivers, and those who guard the jail,
bakers making doughnuts, birthday cakes, and treats;
semi drivers transporting groceries, milk, and meat;
people printing newspapers, others selling gas,
construction workers mending roads so travelers can pass.

Swish, hush, shush-a-bye, rustle, hustle who
wings, sings, brushes by whispering, “God loves you.”

Listen now, my precious child, before you close your eyes.
Another One is wide awake. He’s loving, strong, and wise.
Those other workers go to sleep while you are wide awake.
But He is always on the job, a guardian for your sake.
He is the great Almighty God. You are His treasure rare.
So do not worry, little one, you’re always in His care.

Swish, hush, shush-a-bye, rustle, hustle who
wings, sings, brushes by whispering, “God loves you.”

This poem won first place overall for the Faithwriter's writing challenge children's genre. I hope to have it illustrated and made into a children's book some day. Please go knock on Yvonne's Back Door and enjoy some more wonderful fiction posts.

Wormy Apple Cupcakes

2010-09-17T00:00:00.007-05:00

by Sharlyn Guthrie

It was a foggy September morning and I hoped at least one student would recall today’s seldom-used weather word. “I noticed something different about the weather on my way to work today,” I hinted. “Jeremy, you’re raising your hand. What is the weather word I’m thinking of?”

Jeremy looked puzzled. “Mrs. Guffry, whe do you wook?”

Since he wears a tool belt, kindergartners think the custodian is the only worker at school. But by the end of that foggy September day, feeling the effects of a hard day's work, I flopped onto my bed, exhausted. “Maybe it’s time to retire,” I reasoned out loud.

Sitting up, I began brushing my hair, but the brush caught and pulled. My hair was a sticky mess! Then I remembered. After snacks, Tony had squeezed the Go-gurt tube he carried just as he passed my desk on his way to the trash can. Green slime had suddenly shot out, splattering my hair and face and dripping down my glasses. What could I do but laugh? My students had certainly thought it funny, seeing their teacher dripping with green goop. I needed a shower.

In the steamy shower more of the day’s events swirled through my mind like the morning’s fog. I winced as I washed my face.

Ow! I hadn’t realized how hard Aiden kicked my lip. Oh, he didn’t mean to, I was just helping him cross the monkey bars at recess. He was trying so hard! He will be elated when he finally does it on his own.

Will I ever get this class to line up after recess? Cole and Zach took their time getting off the climber as Cara and Maya wandered toward the swings. Meanwhile, Mark and Gretchen ran inside. Brandon cooperated nicely –a pleasant surprise, considering how he lunged at his mom later, nearly knocking her down. Oh, and, when I reminded him and his mom to be quiet in the hallway his mom quipped, “I hope you mean me, because I can control myself, but I can't control my son!” Hmm, what an enlightening comment!

Matthew, on the other hand, IS uncontrollable! He yanked poor Emily to the floor by her hair today, which landed him in the principal’s office. I hope his parents follow through on the recommendations Mr. Doyle and I drafted for them today. Matthew needs a thorough evaluation.

I also informed Mr. Doyle that six-year-old Elijah, not yet toilet trained, dirtied his pants for the third time today. We wrote a letter to Elijah’s parents, too.

My new student didn’t say one word today. Her mom can barely speak English. Maybe Habiba can’t speak English, either. Lord, show me how to make her feel loved and accepted.

Unlike Habiba, Melodee never stops talking, but she is impossible to understand. She and Jeremy will start speech therapy tomorrow. Before skipping out the door today, she proudly wiggled her loose tooth. I’ll look for a gap in her smile tomorrow, and prepare to listen even harder when she speaks.

My thoughts returned to the present as I stepped from the shower. I dried off, donned my bathrobe, and headed for the kitchen and the red paper plate on the counter holding six cupcakes, each frosted to look like an apple. Poking out of the apples were gummy worms. A note attached to the plate read:

Dear Mrs. Guthrie,
Hannah helped make these “wormy apple cupcakes” for you.
She loves school, and she loves you. We are so thankful for you!
We pray for you and the class every day. Teaching is a difficult job
and you do it so well!
Love,
Mr. and Mrs. Olson and Hannah

A tear rolled down my cheek, splashing on the signature. It was only September. Surely the class would learn to line up in another week or so. Aiden would be zipping across the monkey bars, and Habiba would be making friends. By January, Brandon and Matthew would have more good days than bad, and Blake’s and Melodee’s speech would improve. Elijah would definitely be toilet trained. By May they would all know their letters and sounds and days of the week. They would tie their own shoes and zip their own jackets. I would applaud as they sounded out their first words, and exclaim as they wrote their first wobbly sentences on lined paper.

Retire? I might be overworked, and at times under-appreciated, but I couldn’t think of a job with better benefits. “Lord, thank you for five-year-olds and wormy apple cupcakes,” I prayed. “They sure have wiggled their way into this teacher’s heart!”

Note: About nine years ago a very special family, the Olsons, came into my life. Over the next five years I had the privilege of teaching each of their three children in kindergarten. Kathleen and Jeff were wonderful parents. I always enjoyed interacting with them and I also appreciated the many ways they offered help and support at school.

A little over a year ago, Kathleen was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. She left this earth and her beautiful family here for her heavenly home on August 18th.

I offer this story as a small, albeit insufficient, tribute to Kathleen. Although names have been changed and I used a bit of writer’s license with the introduction, most of the events of this story actually occurred all in the same day! I am convinced that God knew I would need some encouragement that day, and Kathleen was the willing messenger. She will always have a very special place in my heart.

Christina is hosting Fiction Friday today. Please visit her at her blog, With Pen In Hand, and follow the links to great fiction.