Finding Faith in the Battle

The emotions of packing up and leaving have made my mind raw, and I’ve had random crying spells sprinkled in among times of profound gratitude. There’s nothing quite like loss to make you appreciate what God has gifted. And there really is a sense of loss—a counselor once explained that it’s called “Ambiguous Grief” because no one has actually died and in theory we can always come back and see people again. It’s not the same as when my dad died back in 2016. But we all know it won’t be exactly the same ever again, even when we do come back, and until then Kenya is really far away and FaceTime is not the same as face time. But I digress.  After an amazing week in Oregon, we are now back in Central Ohio for our last hurrah, hanging out with our adult kids. And when people say adult kids are the best, they aren’t kidding! Anya and Everett are killing this adulting thing, hosting Omara and Isaac and feeding us all for the week. Anya even woke up early and made a gluten-free lunch out o...

I started this blog decades ago (!) when we were first headed to Africa with our 2 young children. I anticipated adventures that I would enjoy sharing, and indeed we had all sorts of adventures! We spent 3.5 years in Lilongwe and added 2 kids to our crew. Then we all spent another 5 years in Nairobi, Kenya where we had more adventures--both the good and the hard kind. Our beautiful, adventurous young teen Anya was living her best life there. Our tender reed of a son, Ethan, was not. The demands of school and the loss of friend after friend to mission-life transition almost broke him. Silly little 1st grade Isaac and salty but loving pre-school Omara just went with the flow. And we made the heart-breaking decision to take a leave-of-absence from Kenya. That leave-of-absence turned into resignation as it became clearer that God was directing us to stay in the US to support Ethan. Let me be clear--it was one of the most painful things we have ever done. You can read more about it here ...

Today is Tuesday. And in the wonderful way of the world, that means tomorrow is Wednesday. And Wednesday is when we close and move into our new-to-us house! I'm just a tad excited!!! I've spent the last few weeks trying to keep myself sane with Internet sales, Craig's List, and my new bff, Ikea. And when I wasn't browsing possible purchases, I was getting my nesting-needs out by helping our friends-and-hosts organize their cupboards and sun-room and garage. Anya joined in and she emptied out an old shed to turn it into a play-house, and we built new patio stairs with reclaimed wood and a pallet we found on the side of the road. I always swore I'd be more crafty if only I had a Home Depot, so now I get to try and live up to my ideal self! The storage area of the church now contains 2 couches, 4 beds, mattresses, towels, bedding, boxes of books and baking dishes. Two tables, 12 chairs, and winter clothes. Boxes of donated things I haven't even looked through ...

Greetings from Ohio! We were able to stay in the Raleigh mission house for as long as we needed it, and I had planned to stay for several more weeks. I reasoned it would be easier to revel in established relationships and familiar activities for a little longer, rather than jumping into new ones before we had our own space to move into. But I underestimated a few things... One: my kids are far too experienced with transition. After a rough, emotionally charged few days where I was bewildered at every one's foul moods, Isaac, at age 8, eloquently explained, "Mom, I don't ever want to leave Raleigh. But since I know we have to, I just want to go now!" Two: there is no such thing as pacing yourself with packing and cleaning when the adult:kid ratio is 1:3. It's all or nothing. I started slowly packing, and the kids immediately reacted to things 'disappearing'. And don't even get me started about cleaning. Any parent knows it takes minutes for kids ...

I read another great quote this morning, this one from Martin Luther King Jr. " We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope." I don't even know how to characterize this past week. Some new friends invited us to go with them to their beach house for a few days. We had just been praying we'd get a chance to take the kids to the ocean once more, but it didn't look like it was going to happen. Then God blessed us through His people. We were so excited! Then we got a call from Omara's doctor. She'd been complaining of abdominal pain over the past year but lately it had been increasing. I took her in to see a doctor, expecting a minor intestinal issue thanks to Africa, but quickly discovered she had only gained 1 pound in the past year. At 6 1/2 years old, 35 lbs is a bit...little bitty. So we drew some labs (at my insistence...but who is keeping track!). Those labs came back positive for Celiac Disease, an autoimmune disease that lea...

I intentionally set my expectations low for my 40th, given that we are in the midst of high-stress transition, far from family and close friends. When things started out so good (sleep, flowers, chocolate caramels, lunch with new friends...I mean, really!) I felt down-right chipper and let it go to my head. Then the phone call came. All you parents with children who struggle at school know the dreaded phone call. Kids were in his face pushing him about why he wasn't doing his work. He ignored them. They pushed harder. The teachers did nothing. He responded with a "fun-fact" that was interpreted as a threat. The principal agreed that it wasn't really a threat, but he "had to" give at least a 1-day suspension. We weren't upset at our poor kid--we gave hugs and love and reassurance. But it didn't matter. The 12-eyed beast otherwise-known-as-shame had already set up house, and it managed to suck us all into that place of tension and angst. I was a...

"Please help our son pull himself together so we can be back to Kenya!" It was a heart-wrenching prayer that started back on December 5, 2015. Counselors had just informed us that he needed more than we could get in Nairobi. It triggered a road of bewilderment and step-by-step following through some of the most twisted and confusing paths that we've ever walked. Chad cried out, one day, "We just played hard all season, and now we're being benched for the big game! It makes no sense!" "Please, give us the tools to help our son thrive in Kenya!" The crooked path took us to Raleigh, NC, a place where we had zero connections. A place where God provided a community, great schools, great counselors, and healing in areas we didn't even realize we were sick. It helped us cry out an equally heart-wrenching prayer that showed our growing understanding of our son's needs; understanding that he wasn't acting out of spite or purpose or sabotag...

I re-read my latest blog, The Crooked Path , and wondered if I did a disservice to the missionary struggle by not "showing my work" from the months leading up to this point! The last thing I want to imply is that we're trying to decide if we want to go back to Kenya, or suggest that we're asking God if He's released us from Kenya because it's hard there and we're done. Our hearts are in Kenya. We love the people. We love our jobs. We love our co-workers. We love being given a part to play in what God wants to accomplish there. In some ways, it feels like we were MADE for it! Of course there are hard parts about it--have I ever mentioned the traffic?--but there are also so many blessings and gifts, and it's home . So why the crooked path? Why the questions? Do you remember reading my thoughts on calling and how it was time to put my money where my mouth is? It's been awhile, for sure. For those who aren't sitting on the couch hanging o...

The view from our driveway Landing in Central Oregon felt more like 'coming home' this time than it did last time we came back in 2013. The scraggly trees, the rocks and fields and hay. And oh, the mountains. It's really amazing, actually, that the entire population of the US doesn't up and move here just to wake up every morning and see those mountains! We have had moments of culture shock, as expected. So much skin being shown. So much PDA  Omara at Tumalo Falls even in church, where people hold hands (gasp!) and stroke each other's backs (the scandal!). So many options at the grocery store. I've spend literally hours inside Fred Meyers, just wandering the aisles to look at everything. The kids are amazed at dish washers, and that people would just throw away bottles and cans worth 5cents. Gluten-free communion. A sun that won't set until 9:30pm and then wakes up at 4:45am.  Ethan playing in Elk Lake, in the Cascade Mountains We...

There are times when all the signs point towards intervention, and yet God clearly tells someone to stay put. I've seen it happen, and I've supported it, and I've praised God when He goes against conventional wisdom. It happens with financial 'signs,' medical 'signs,' and everything in between. I know. That seems to go against what I said just a few days ago . But here's the truth: as much as I rage against this reality...life isn't a cook-book, or a flow-chart, or any other simple color-by-number endeavor. It's never as black and white as the words on the screen make it appear. We can't make snap decisions that remove a vibrant relationship as we discern whether circumstances are an opportunity for faith in staying, or faith in changing. Flashback. ( Ladies down south--since you're now my coworkers and you probably don't know this story, go ahead and skip ahead now to save yourselves from retroactive heart palpitations!) Omara...

As medical coordinator, I spend a fair amount of time talking with people about calling. Sounds strange, does it? Not out here! Not when overseas workers' ability to do their jobs depends directly on events outside of their control, and when we are committed to affirm God's sovereignty in everything. There is no separation of work and life here--it's all one big circle of action and interaction as our lives minister and our ministry affects our lives in a fully integrated way. When it works, it really works. When it's hard, it's really hard. It's probably how it's supposed to be, how it worked with Jesus and all, but it's not very American. Not with separation of church and state, which so often means separation of public and private; separation of Sunday and Monday-Saturday. We chafe against it sometimes, over here. And when things happen which threaten our 'calling' we cry out, "How can this be? I was CALLED here, to do this!" An...

I am task oriented. If you look the term up in the dictionary, I'm pretty sure my latest passport photo is there to sum it all up. It doesn't bode well for life in Africa, actually. Or life with 4 kids. 4 kids IN Africa almost puts me over the line into certifiable. I've read so many books and blogs about motherhood, and its sacred value, and I believe it all with my head. But in the day-to-day grind its really hard for me to get excited about laundry which just gets dirty again, or dinner which gets rapidly devoured, has to be cleaned up off the table and floor, and then has to be wiped off bottoms the next day. (Sorry if that's too much--I'm a nurse with 4 kids. Poop stopped horrifying me years ago.) What they don't necessarily tell you about task-orientated people is that we want to do a meaningful task, check if off the list, and move on to the next meaningful task--- not face the same mundane thing 17 minutes later . Because that's not accomplishing...

Tragedy is raging around us, and we're not in the very middle of any of it. But we've got court-side seats to a lot of it. Flames of others' heartbreak and suffering seem to lick at my feet at all times. Medical crises. Home invasions. Mental breakdowns. Violence. Al-Shabab. Threats. Violence. More violence. And I know that it shouldn't overwhelm me; I am only a minor player in each event. But to be honest, it does. It grieves me, and tires me, and builds up, straw upon straw , on this tired camel. I was on a business trip last week to an area near Ethiopia, and let me just give a shout-out to those working in that HEAT. Oh. My. Goodness!!!! It was a great trip, but a lot of work and a lot of sweat. Literally. Lots of sweat. I was there when the massacre occurred in Garissa, so I watched in remote horror from my hotel room. NOT AGAIN. Please, Jesus, not again. A couple of bales of straw fell as I saw those horrible photos from the aftermath. And then I de...

I'm a planner at heart, so we made our steps towards home-school a full 2 weeks before it was to begin. We had our son finish out the quarter, have a big good-bye party with his class, and then enjoy his Spring Break. It was a decision that I think we were right on. Today, Spring Break sadly over, his siblings climbed on the bus, and as we got them settled, he disappeared. After searching for him around the compound (with no small amount of trepidation over how on earth we were going to survive these 10 weeks) we found him sitting on the steps in front of his classroom. At 7:15am. I hadn't had nearly enough coffee yet! So we decided there was "recess" first, while I drank my coffee and gathered his school books, and "prayed up" for the day. 3 1/2 hours later, we emerged...tired, a little overwhelmed, but successful. He had finished all his math, his reading, and his grammar. And I had come to several conclusions. 1. I no longer remember what constit...