Back in the Saddle Again

August 7, 2004

Dear Friend Jane,

Well my friend, I have spent two birthdays in Africa now. On our return trip we had an eventful time in London.  Our flight to Entebbe was delayed 5 hours so DSC 074 (Small) we spent the day walking around London streets.  DSC 072 (Small) We took the train into the city and managed to see the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey and Big Ben.

I slept on the plane ride to London but Mike and Casey were unable to and were pretty beat when we got back to Heathrow.  As we were boarding the plane for Entebbe they discovered that they had double booked our seats so we were upgraded to Business Class –oh, what a great grace that was!  The recliner seats allowed us to sleep on this 8 hour leg of the journey and get prepared for the work that awaited in Uganda.

Would you believe that I left my pocket book on the American flight that we took from Richmond to Boston?

Picture 067 (Small)Shirlene, the Rafiki Girls Center Director, met with me the day we returned and asked me to begin the next day observing the classes that I would teach: Music, Cooking & Nutrition and Sewing.  Procuring the groceries needed to prepare the noon time meals, making menus and gathering recipes, teaching the recorder, teaching the girls to make a dress on treadle machines and supervising in the Weaving Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays will be some of the pieces of my new assignment.  Picture 075 (Small)Uganda 018 (Small)

Shirlene seems most anxious for me to take over the sewing class even though I don’t know a bias from a facing!  I am ready and observing to beat the band to get up to speed.

The Mamas and Aunties are expressing much confusion about my status in the village since my return.  The truth is it is as difficult for me as for them right now. Auntie Edith invited me to come to her home for a visit on her off day yesterday so I went after work.  She had cooked 5 traditional foods over charcoal each was wrapped in banana leaves and she wanted to share them with me.  Jane the extravagance of this gift will astound me forever–she cooked the equivalent of a holiday meal for me and her children were sitting and watching me eat…I can only hope that they tasted some of this when I was gone.

I said, “Edith you don’t eat this early.”  She smiled that sweet smile and said, “Jja Jja, I wanted to share food with you and to pray for what has happened.  I want this meeting and our words to be Christian and honoring.”  That was her way of saying she was not asking me to gossip and she knew that being Christian meant our language needed to be different from that of the unbelieving world.

DSC02777 (Small)With tears she thanked me for making her feel valued as a person and for speaking to the women of Rafiki as though they were as important as anyone  else.  She said, “Jja Jja, my heart felt like it had been put in a cold box when Mommy told us you had asked to go to the RGC.  I thought, ‘What has happened? I know Jja Jja loves us.’  Then I thought you would come back and sit us down and explain to us all the reasons that there were so many changes because you always tell us everything.  What I find is that you walk by with only a wave now.”

I did spend some time explaining things to Edith and assuring her that my help to her family would continue no matter how things were different within the gate.  I asked her to trust God that the changes would help the running of things in the village and we would wait and watch how things went.  We clasped hands and spent a long time in imploring prayer–I will never forget what happened in that hut.

You of all people know how that meeting affected my heart.

I do want you to know I am seeing God and am sustained by Him in all this.  In fact, I am so grateful to be with the girls at the center in morning devotions each day. God broke out in all our hearts while we were praying today.  For devotion time we were looking at the attribute of God’s Impartiality.  Later, during the time of confession one girl asked God to forgive her because she often suspected that He favored others more than He did her–she went on to say that she wanted to believe what the Word said rather than her feelings.  Picture 034 (Small)

The girls sing beautifully and I am most blessed to stand among them during hymn time.  Later, the first term girls completed their first blouse project and were thrilled to think they were allowed to take them home to show family–they kept saying to Shirlene, “God Bless you Miss Shirlene–for assisting us.”

It has been a great morning. I haven’t read our Psalm for the day but am even now rehearsing the truths that are there in Psalm 91 (that is the one right?) through my head. DSC 079 (Small)
We will have mini missionaries for dinner tonight and hope that they are made to feel welcome–Jane, I am glad that God saw fit to knit our hearts together–I miss you daily and am helped and remember to say, “God thank you for e-mail, phones and yearly chances to sit and sip coffee with Jane.”  What would I do without a friend with whom I can talk about any and every thing!”

love-lissa

Love, a Many Splendored Thing

May 5, 2004

One generation will commend your works to another;
they will tell of your mighty acts.
They will speak of the glorious splendor of your majesty,
and I will meditate on your wonderful works. (Psalm 145)

Dear Jane,

 This morning I am thankful that God is allowing me the privilege of being one generation commending Him and His Robertworks to another (vs. 4).  Yesterday I met up with the 3 and 4 year olds as they were on their way to school.  Meeting the children is always the joy in my morning–they are all smiles and stories.

Today  Mama Robinah said to Robert, “Robert did you tell Jja Jja that you prayed and God helped you not wet yourself last night?”  That little boy’s face broke out in a big smile and he ran and threw his arms around my knees and said in that wonderful broken English, “Jja Jja I prayed–I pray for Auntie Casey –I pray for Uncle Mike–Jja Jja I pray.”  Girlfriend, moments like that make my heart explode. That his mama has taught him to take all things to God in prayer is mega-marvelous.  He is already armed for life.  When I think on the institutional, non-attentive life that Robert knew in the Babies Home and see the security and nurture that he has here I am immensely thankful to God.Kids2  The children are thriving.

Robert came to the Babies Home so severely malnourished that he could not hold his body upright. God’s plan for Robert’s life is very different from where he began his days.   He is so bright.  He memorizes quickly and sings beautifully all the words of the hymn CD that is in his cottage.  It is not unusual for these children to be walking along the sidewalk and to break out with “How Great Thou Art” or “Amazing Grace.”

We went to Casey’s volleyball game yesterday and the Coiners went as well. DSC01885 (Small)  Later we ate at the Cafe’ Roma and Casey was thrilled that we found pizza that was almost like “real” pizza there.  She said, “Mom, I think you miss something so long that you forget the real taste and something close to it is just as good in the end.”  She is a wise woman.

Thank you for hearing my heart for Mom and sending her flowers dear lady–she will be delighted with that thoughtfulness and loves cut flowers dearly.  I know as I read Psalm 145 that there is nothing facing us today that our Great God won’t be meeting before us–the words “abundant” and “abounding”  and “everlasting” have us wrapped in a security that is awe inspiring.  May the awe of the Lord fall all over you as you meet with Him this morning.   I am wanting to call on Him in truth – regarding Carolyn, advise me if you hear me hiding out of self protectiveness or some other self absorbed something–if God wants to use me differently I am willing.

Love to you friend–lissa

We’re Surrounded!

April 15, 2004

Dear Jane,

It is 9:34 at night–way past missionary midnight which falls for me about 8:00.  DSC01077 (Small) Mike and Casey have retired for the evening.  Mike often takes the mini missionaries who visit back to the airport at Entebbe.  It is an hour drive and the flight out to London is very early so tonight he is not the family night owl. There are times, like today when I feel so surrounded by humanity that I purpose to carve out some time to be still, quiet and alone with God.  God has met me with much comfort concerning the death of James Okwir.  As I prepared for the Mama’s Bible study of Genesis 9, I was warned and helped when I considered the heart of Ham.  He sought to expose and ridicule Noah when he lay naked and drunk.  How easy it is to feel superior and to exploit other’s weaknesses.  How beautiful that the other two sons honored their father and sought to cover and protect him in his folly.

There has been so much tongue wagging about this tragic incident.  Everyone seems shocked that this young man was stealing. I asked the mamas today if we were guilty of arrogantly thinking that the sin of stealing only dwelt in James’ heart.  I asked whether we felt justified in exposing and denigrating his character?  Are we like Ham–anxious to clothe ourselves in self-righteousness and willing to strip this brother of all honor?   I wondered if God would not rather have us tremble at what lives in our hearts and draw close to Him who is willing to cover rather than expose us!

DSC02141 (Small) Carolyn and I took Sophie to Mengo Hospital today where her TB treatment is given.  She will go every two weeks for about 7 months. I thought she would be hooked up to some breathing apparatus or some inhaling machine.  The treatment plan consisted of waiting in line to be weighed–waiting in line to be seen by a doctor, waiting in another line to get in to meet the pharmacist.  She carefully counted out tablets that were to be taken for the next two weeks and put them in a tiny envelope like the envelopes we get from tellers at the bank.  Following the TB treatment portion of the visit, we got into two more lines to have her seen by a doctor for an ear infection and then another line for the medicine for that!

mengo (Small) During those waiting hours, you see sights that you can scarcely believe.  People collapsing from malaria symptoms, lepers, malnourished children who look like skeletons, children urinating on the floor.  Despairing, suffering people–waiting for the most minimal kind of care.

Compared to the sights we saw, our Sophie is thriving!  She now has wrinkles in her thighs that used to look like Kermit the Frog’s!  She is eating to beat the band and getting stronger everyday.  DSC01703 (Small) I wouldn’t take anything for the privilege that is ours to oversee this child’s recovery–she is so worth it.  Carolyn and I adore her hair — it is a soft straight Indian looking growth.  The doctor said that we need to shave it off.  He said that her hair was a sure sign of malnourishment and TB.  He told us that if she is getting good food and good treatment her hair will grow in curly like it is supposed to on an African!

The verse that sustained me through the day was Psalm 125, especially these words:

As the mountains surround Jerusalem,
so the LORD surrounds his people
both now and forevermore.

As I sat on wooden benches in the hospital with TB patients,  I counted on His surrounding Presence and it was there.

Until later my dearest friend–you are cherished and loved–lissa

We forget…He does not.

March 25, 2004

Dear Jane,

Psalm 78 reminds us that we are consistent in our forgetfulness of the great works of our God–but he remembers His covenant forever.  That is good good news!

Mike downtown (Small) Casey is off from school today and so after the meeting to train mamas, we are going into Kampala to get haircuts. This is one of those times that brings such remembered pleasure to our days.  Mike has headed to Entebbe to pick up some mini missionaries who are making a second visit to Uganda.  We have had 3 flat tires in the past couple of weeks so I am praying that the patched tires will hold up for the journey.  Yesterday was full and busy.  We had a second interview with a woman that we hoped would be a mama in training. Effective interviewing is so difficult–the women are so desperate for the position that they will often tell us whatever they think we want to hear.  I don’t blame them.  MatatuMeetsCustomer (Small)This dear woman revealed under closer questioning that she is a single woman with an 8 year old child who is living here with her child instead of the child being in Kumi with her mother as she had told us on the first interview.  I praised God for her honesty and was thankful that we did not offer her a job that would make an orphan of her own child!

We also went to Nsambya Babies Home and saw 2 children that we hope can come live here in cottage #4. Over the past week, I’ve spent several hours with our new housemother Robinah Nafuna.   She is a treasure with depth of knowledge, both of people and of faith. She made me laugh so hard when she shared a story with me.  I had invited her to my home for a follow up interview.  Robinah&William (Custom) She got there around the lunch hour and since I knew that her journey on the matatu had been long and hard, I offered her a bowl of bean soup and some tea or water.  She asked for water probably so that she would not cause me extra preparation time.  I felt her eyes watching me quietly as I prepared her meal.  I noticed that she did not drink the glass of water and just assumed that like many Ugandans that drinking water was not her habit.  These folks have to walk long distances to streams and carry the water they need in large plastic “gerry” cans.  Since the water comes with contamination, they must boil all water for drinking and cooking.  I think as a result, they must think of drinking water as a costly extravagance.  DSC00223 (Small) Well, I had drawn her water right from the faucet, and when she saw that I did not “cook” it she was convinced I was a misguided mzungu trying to make her ill!  As she shared what she was thinking about me and these crazy foreigners in the village, I rolled with laughter.  What she did not know then and what will be a great treat for her as she lives here, is that here in the village we have a deep bore well.  The water comes up uncontaminated and immediately suitable for drinking!

Sophie I don’t know if I have shared that we heard that baby Sophie, who we are waiting to bring to Rafiki, was recently hospitalized.  We are not sure what is going on but we did stop by Sanyu while in town to check on things with her.  Joyce met us and took us into the lunch room where the children sit in those little chairs around the edge of the wall to drink their porridge. We saw Sophie but she looked so much smaller and weak.  As Carolyn talked with Joyce, I noticed a sign above her high chair that said “TB use own spoon and cup only!”  Things began to make sense about why Joyce had not released Sophie to us.  We had heard through the grapevine that there has been an outbreak of TB at Sanyu and we had been wondering if any of our children are infected.  They all had passed the TB serology tests but evidently they discovered through chest X-rays that some Sanyu children had the disease.  This throws many things up in the air for us–Carolyn is e-mailing the Rafiki pediatrician in Nairobi to see what we should do now. Well girlfriend, I need to move away from the laptop and get my mind ready for the mamas to come for training today.

gratefully yours,

lissa

P.S. Dr. Dan in Nairobi told us to bring Sophie as soon as possible so that we can get her treated for the disease. The treatment can take up to a year.  He told us not to panic about the other children that he would test them all when he visits in April or May and not to worry about it.   That was very encouraging.

For God so Loved the World

October 22, 2003

Good morning friend,

The rain whipped through at 4:30 this morning and I got up to close windows and decided to stay up. You cannot believe how hard it can rain here and the ground, like a huge sponge, receives it all and grows everything into lushness! morning sky Some have said, “If you throw plastic on the ground in Uganda, it will grow!”.  Early morning remains the sweetest time of all the day for me–it is quiet and the sunrises are worth getting up for!  The heavens announce the glory of God morning and evening–it is a humbling display.

Today we leave for Jinja and I pray we will see things that are delightful and enjoy each other’s company.  Jinja is about an hour and a half from Rafiki village and it is a place run by a Dutchman who planned it to cater to missionaries.  There are very modest bando style cottages to stay in but the landscape is gorgeous and refreshing.sunrise4 uganda-map.jpgThe pace has been nonstop since we landed so it will be great to have some time to think on all that is and has gone on.   DSC00161 (Small) I know it is God’s help to me that my work here allows me very little time with James–I sense that there is a weaning of the heart going on.  I’ll miss his help with the kids, I wonder how I will pass his room and know that he may not return to this place.  JDSC00693ane, I am beginning to wonder how I will put him on a plane in Entebbe and let him go–there is an indescribable ache in my heart as I consider that. DSC00385 DSC00376 Yet even as I think that thought, this fresh wind blows in and I am reminded that the same God who pushed me off of one continent and onto another– and who provided for all that I have needed (can you hear Robert’s hymn influencing me?)  will not leave me standing comfortless. You can make yourself so sorrowful by rehearsing what causes your heart to hurt!  So, I am most grateful that this gift of get away time has come to us so that I can savor this young man’s company a while longer.

DSC00506 (Small) I began thinking this morning about Psalm 102:18–about the “people not yet created that may praise the LORD.” I thought about the children He will bring here over the years–they are not yet created but to Him He already has the plans for each of them in place.  How marvelous is this God?      DSC00518 (Small) dsc00427-small.JPG My friend I have had you in my thoughts and prayers today as well.  I have prayed for renewed strength for you now that He has seen you through ACTP and you will be refreshing the retreat talks for Myrtle Beach.  dsc00381-small.JPGI trust that there was much that He let you see and enjoy in the prayer retreat.  I hope there were people who sang from the same sheet of music with you and that God Himself stirred up hunger for more prayer in His people.  jamesgettingdirty.jpgJust think –if we were not so captivated by Christ and kingdom work–we’d have to occupy ourselves by taking bus trips to Branson, Missouri!  We have been rescued –we are set free to enjoy our Maker!  You are a cherished friend–until later, lissa

He Made me a Polished Arrow

Helen (Small) Helen Roseveare had just graduated from medical school when she moved to the Belgian Congo to serve as a doctor to local tribes. She built a hospital made of handcrafted bricks, stocked it with medicines, and for 12 years treated malnutrition, nursed lepers, delivered babies, and performed amputations.

Her work there was tragically interrupted with the onset of a bloody revolution. On August 8, 1964, the Republic of Congo was plunged into a civil war. That day marked the beginning of five terrible months of savage brutality during which 27 missionaries were killed, more than 200 Roman Catholic priests and nuns were murdered, and nearly a quarter of a million innocent African civilians were butchered.

Roseveare was rescued from the carnage, along with many others. She returned temporarily to her home in England to heal from her anguish and to share her story.

But when this woman known by the nationals affectionately as “Mama Luka” spoke of her experiences in the Congo, a provocative question repeatedly surfaced: “Why did God let you suffer?”

The reality of a missionary, who laid out her life to serve God only to be rewarded with cruelty and suffering, seemed incongruous. Routinely people in search of answers unburdened their hearts to Roseveare: a young mother whose baby drowned, a girl who was raped — people who lived in angst, unable to connect the dissonance of life’s experiences to the God of the Bible. Her answer became simply to share with them how God had given her faith and strength to overcome her own heart-wrenching trials.

paediatric-600Invited to address the question of suffering with a small gathering one night she first quoted Isaiah 49:2, “He made my mouth like a sharp sword; in the shadow of His hand He hid me; He made me a polished arrow;  She reached backward toward the mantel and eased a long-stemmed rose bud from a tall vase. As she spoke, she broke off the thorns, the leaves, the petals, the green outer layer of stem – every element that makes a rose and rose. All that was left was a lithe, straight shaft. The pieces that lay on the floor were not bad things. But, she explained, they had to be removed if she were going to make an arrow. God does this to us, she said. He removes everything – even innocent, good things – that hinders us from being the arrows.  He strips and sands and polishes so that he can shoot the arrow for his purposes at his intended target.”

Independence was declared in the Belgian Congo on June 30, 1960. Mutiny broke out in the army, the white population fled, and interracial relations crumbled. “It nearly broke my heart,” says Roseveare. “It wasn’t only in the upper echelons of government, it wasn’t even just in local government, it was in the church.” A colleague once told her, “Well doctor, we don’t blame you for being white. In fact, we’re really rather sorry for you being white. But at the end of the day you are white.” Her beloved friends no longer trusted her.  She prayed and fasted fervently, seeking God’s face for reconciliation.

Then came the rebellion and a terrible night that transformed her faith.

“It was a Saturday afternoon,” recalls Roseveare. “A truck drove into the village where I lived, and I could hear the noise from house of rough, angry voices shouting. And then two men burst into my home. That was the first indication I had that we were at war. “[The men] inspected everything and smashed a lot of my property, and then I suddenly realized that they were intent on evil. I tried to run away and hide, and they came with powerful torches, and they found me. They struck me, they beat me. I lost my back teeth to the boot of a rebel soldier that night. They broke my glasses I can’t focus on anything if I haven’t got them on. That was most frightening. When you can see them, you can at least put an arm up to take the blow. When you can’t see, you’re so defenseless.” During the course of the evening, Roseveare was badly violated by her perpetrators. “I don’t think I was praying; I was numb with horror, dread, fear. If I had prayed, I think I would have prayed, “My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?” I felt He’d left me. I didn’t doubt God. I never doubted God. But I felt, for that moment, that He’d left me to handle the situation by myself.

cg-150As these thoughts poured into her mind, Roseveare became aware of a holy presence near her. “I knew with every fiber in my being that God, the almighty Creator, was there,” she pronounces with quiet certainty, insisting that God never gives us evil, but takes what is intended for evil and makes it good.

During the pinnacle of her suffering, God spoke to Roseveare in a way that He knew she would understand and accept. “I believe the words that God spoke to me, although I didn’t hear them as words, were,

“Can you thank Me for trusting you with this, even if I never tell you why?”

You know, that’s shattering. You and I think of us trusting Him. But the thought that He wants to trust us, that was something very new to my thinking.”

He gave her the strength to say yes and she prayed, “Yes, God. If somehow, somewhere this fits for purposes, I don’t know how, but yes, thank You, God, for trusting me with this.” God did not take away the wickedness, the cruelty, or the pain. It was still there. But He turned her fear into peace.

Roseveare and her fellow missionaries endured faithfully that long and dreadful weekend. The following Tuesday the rebels returned for her. She was taken away by herself in the middle of the night. As dawn broke, they came to a village. The rebel soldiers had gathered nearly 800 local men into the village square. They had been told they would attend a people’s court in which Roseveare would be tried for the things that had occurred the previous week. At the given signal they were instructed to shout, “She’s a liar! She’s a liar!” They would then be asked, “What will we do with her?” The mandated response was, “Modecco! Modecco!” which meant “Crucify her! Crucify her!” The defendant knew she would die, although she did not know how.

The trial scene began.

“They wanted me to go through in detail in front of these 800 men what had happened the previous Thursday,” Roseveare says, an audible quiver in her voice. “I wasn’t going to speak up in front of all those men. They struck me over the face with the butt end of a gun; I couldn’t stand the pain so I spoke up.”

The moment of judgement came.

Roseveare couldn’t see her jury; her eyes had nearly closed with the swellings of the beatings. But she could hear. “I heard a sound I had never heard before and will probably never hear again. I heard 800 strong farming men break down and cry.

They were weeping.”

Now, instead of seeing her as the hated white foreigner, they saw her as their doctor.

“They have a word in Kibudu, which means “blood of our blood, bone of our bone,” she says. “They rushed forward and said, “She’s ours. Helen2 She’s ours.”

They took me into their arms and pushed the rebel soldiers out of the way.

“In that moment the black/white division disappeared,” she professes triumphantly.

“I can honestly say, right through till today, in that area there has never been a black/white division again. We’re all one in Christ Jesus.”

When she fervently sought the Lord so many years before, she had no idea that God would make her an instrument in bringing about racial harmony.

Why does a God of love allow suffering?

For Roseveare that question is, in itself, a contradiction. Love and suffering are inextricably linked.

“If you didn’t love, you wouldn’t hurt,” she explains, pointing to her exemplar as evidence.

God loves us so much that He gave His own son to the Cross. Because He loves, He suffered, giving us an example to follow in His steps. (1 Peter 2:21)”

In the years following the brutality that she suffered she recounted other thoughts that were in her mind as she was insulted, cursed and abused.  “Suddenly Christ had been there.  No vision, no voice, but His very real presence.  A phrase came into my mind, “led as a lamb to the slaughter”, one outstanding fact seemed to dominate:  For my sake, He went as a willing sacrifice.  Then, as swiftly, He spoke into my heart: “They’re not fighting you: these blows, all this wickedness, is against Me. All I ask of you is the loan of your body.  Will you share with Me one hour in My sufferings for these who need My love through you?”

She looked back later on this whole period and wrote: ‘We learned why God has given us His name as I AM (Exodus 3:14). His grace always proved itself sufficient in the moment of need, but never before the necessary time.

“He Gave Us a Valley”, Helen Roseveare, p.36,

“Arrrows in the Hands of God”, Challis.com, June 15, 2005

“Can you thank me?” an interview with Helen Roseveare, Tonya Stoneman