I've been reading many of Paul's epistles lately over and over, and one particular thought sticks in my head..."my power is made perfect in weakness."  2 Cor. 12:9  When I read this I think it is saying that God's strength can be seen when things are accomplished by means in which we are weak.  Still, I cannot look around and see this to be true in my own life.  I wonder if it takes a touch of humility to let your weaknesses be exposed to such an extent. Yes...I think this must be it.  To allow God to work in our weaknesses we must let our guard down for all to see them as they are.  Our culture and our society teaches us from day one to manage our weaknesses, become efficient enough in those areas so that they are never exposed. Paul seems to say "use your strengths" (Eph. 4:11-13) and "let your weaknesses be seen" 2 Cor. 12:9-10.  

Being in Northern Uganda, I have plenty of opportunities to let my weaknesses be seen. I can't even go to the market and buy food with the language proficiency of a 6 yr. old.  Do I use a translator when I have a chance, or do I struggle to make a simple sentence on my own, knowing that I will get all the verb tenses wrong?  I naturally gravitate toward doing things in which I am an expert, but I constantly feel God pulling me into places where I become the idiot.  I pray for humility almost every morning, and I can see that God is trying hard to answer my prayer...and this prayer will bring Him glory.  There have been many struggles lately, but as I look back on my struggles I see only beauty in them.  It is the days when I take the easy road, hole up at my house, or dodge the inconveniences of life that I know I have quenched the Spirit's desire to work in me. 

Thanks for listening to my ramblings - Kenneth 

(since I have your attention, here are a few prayer requests)
- We are training possible leaders for house churches this
      week on Tues. and Wed.  Pray for good communication

For those of you who have been waiting...we finally know what's going to happen to Achuka! His daddy came to visit us this week and signed the paper for us to begin the legal guardianship process. He has wanted all along to take his son back but has been unable to find anyone who can take care of him. His wives have refused, and the grandmother tends to enjoy "tipping back on grandpa's old cough medicine", if you know what I mean :)

It was a hard meeting, knowing his daddy wanted him but just couldn't take care of him. He's been putting us off for a while, trying to find someone, trying to convince us that our home is the best place for his son. We finally agreed to keep him but under our own terms. We explained the adoption process as best we could and what that means for him and for Achuka. 

This has been tough, and I can't help feeling like I'm taking his son away from him. However, we have prayed and prayed that God would work this situation out and know that His plan for this sweet little guy includes us. I am definitely feeling blessed to be allowed to be his mommy, hopefully forever. We continue to hope that our relationship with this family will keep growing as we raise Achuka and plan to visit them often in the village.

Please pray for us to find favor in the eyes of the local government. We are hoping to get legal guardianship of Achuka in order to travel with him, but we will need to foster him for three years before we will be allowed to legally adopt him. Right now the local government is not very thrilled with our visa situation and doesn't think we really know what we're getting into. We are praying that God will allow them to show us grace in this whole process. 

We have appreciated your prayers so much during this time we have been fostering Achuka and continue to covet them in the coming months. Please continue to lift up little Achuka as we seek to raise him to follow hard after Jesus.

I am thankful to be writing this from the comfort of a retreat home in Jinja, Uganda. It 
is green, wet, and restful. And I have to say, I need the rest. I feel like I've been wrung 
out and hung up to dry.

It's not that I've been doing too much, it's that I've been trying to do less.

Less taking over and more stepping back...
Less "fixing" and more walking alongside...

I just never knew it would be so hard.

This week as I went back and forth to the hospital, taking care of little Ziada and her mama,
I met another mama with premature twin girls. They are the same size Achuka was at birth (2 1/2 lb.) and are perfect. No complications. Beautiful.

And wet...and freezing...and wrapped in a thin blanket on a cold cement bench.

My first response, of course, was to take them home. To save them.

"They aren't going to survive...they'll get pneumonia if they don't have it already...they don't
have a chance in the village..." I thought to myself. Not to mention that the mother doesn't have milk and has been trying to buy and boil cow's milk from the local corral. What are their chances, really? Slim to none.

So what should we do? Take them home? What about tomorrow when another baby comes...and the next day, another? We can't save all the babies in Karamoja...we just can't. There are so many.

I'm learning this week that I can't save them. I tried, and I failed. I wish I could, but I just can't.

All I can do is walk. 

I can walk alongside...I can teach, I can model, I can love and cuddle, I can give value to each child's life. And this is so much harder. Walking is harder for me than taking them home. But this is what Jesus does for me...he walks with me. He holds me as I hold her, the grieving mother of the baby I could not save...he holds me as I give blankets to the mother of the beautiful, perfect twins. He holds me as I struggle to just walk...to walk alongside Him and to walk alongside them. 

Please pray for these sweet babies, Achen and Apiyo, that they would grow healthy and strong, and that I could walk with this mother as she struggles to raise them. Pray for refreshment for us here in beautiful Jinja. But more than anything, pray we would just keep walking, putting one foot in front of the other, following in our Master's footprints.

Be encouraged that He is walking with you as well in whatever situations you are facing. He knows your griefs and wants to walk alongside you through them...He is so good to us.

About a week ago our friend Zachariah came to us to tell us of a mother in our neighboring village, Narikapet, who had a child that was not doing well. Kristi and I went that same day to pay her a visit.  Upon arriving we found a 1 1/2 month old baby girl named Ziada.  As we looked on Ziada's skin and bones, the mother told us that she did not have any milk and had been trying to feed the  baby soya porridge.  Suyana (the mother) is about 18 yrs. old, Ziada is her first child and she doesn't know the first thing about taking care of a baby.  She is alone is Karamoja from a district about 6 hrs. away and is the cause of constant ridicule from her neighbors for her lack of motherly instincts and skills. Suyana shares the profession of one of Jesus' ancestors, Rahab, so she leaves the baby at home every night and returns in the morning.  After spending some time with Suyana, Kristi gave her some motherly advice about how to take care of the baby and that same day we brought her a bottle and some formula.  

A couple of days later Suyana was sick as a result of an infection from her C-section.  Kristi took her and Ziada to the health center to be treated, Suyana for her infection and Ziada to get on a high calorie milk treatment and to have her lungs checked for pneumonia.  After taking her to the hospital, Kristi came back the following day only to find that no one, no doctors, no nurses, no medical staff had attended to Suyana or Ziada at all.  They lay there on the hospital bed exactly the same way as Kristi had left them, 24 hrs. earlier!  As Kristi was sitting with Suyana, the nurses came around and began to berate her about being a bad mother (she had cut the tops off the bottles because she didn't know how to use them).  While this is happening, Kristi notices that the baby is not breathing very well.  She lets the nurses know and they respond that the doctor will be in at some point.  Obviously no one is holding their breath since the doctor hasn't been to see Suyana since she arrived 24 hrs. ago.  The baby's breathing gets worse, and there is no one at the health center there to run the breathing machine.  Kristi decides to take the baby to Michaela's house for a breathing treatment, and it was there that Ziada took her last breath just minutes after arrival.  

How do we make sense of this?  How do you continue to look after the Suyanas and Ziadas when the health center won't care or pay attention to the people who are dying daily in front of them? While we know that death is a result of sin and a very unnatural thing sometimes you just have to thank God for sparing Ziada from a very difficult life and bringing her home to be with him.  We thank God that he has allowed us to be a part of Suyana's life to show her the love of Christ.  She comes from a Muslim family.  

Be praying for Suyana.  She has disappeared from the health center even though she needs treatment for a potentially serious infection known as Sepsis. Pray that Kristi will have more time with her to really relate to her the love that Jesus has for her, the love that sent him to the cross.   
 

Old Modo didn't make it (see last post). He was too weak to be discharged, and in the end, too weak to even eat.

Since we were the ones responsible for taking him to the clinic it makes sense that they would call us to take his body home. Who knew that our car could also double as a hearse? A very short hearse...Modo was a tall man. I can't express the frustration in not being able to speak to his grieving widow. We sat with her as she cried and tried to just be there.

We hired men to dig his grave. They were finished by afternoon, and when I went to check on them it was apparent that the rest of the "funeral money" was used to "ease the pain", if you know what I mean. In other words, there were a lot of drunk grievers sitting around. 

Modo's funeral was a bit better. They asked Kenneth to speak, and he did a fantastic job, as usual. His ability to share a relevant story on the spot with no prior notice is nothing short of amazing. He shared the story of Job...how God allowed suffering in his life because he knew that Job would be faithful to Him. And for those of you who don't know the end of the story, God restores all that Job had and more because of Job's faithfulness to Him. Good story...fairly good funeral, other than the fact that Modo is gone.

I wish I could say he's now with Jesus, but I'm pretty sure that's not the case.

I wish I could say that we spent lots of time with him while he was at the clinic...listening to the proclaimer (Bible on MP3), sharing the gospel with him...but that's just not the case either. We didn't do enough. Our time is obviously limited, but he should have been a priority. 

But God is still at work despite our shortcomings. 

After the funeral the family had a three day fireside vigil. Friends and family sat with them day and night while they grieved. Our gardener, Zacheriah, joined them and brought our proclaimer to share. 

For three days and nights Modo's famly and friends listened to the gospel. 

A gospel they may not have heard if Modo had not died.

Our God is a God of redemption. He brings beauty from ashes...every time. And slowly...slowly we believe he will bring hope to the hopeless...these hopeless, who struggle and hunger and beg and are profoundly ungrateful. His gospel is a story of hope and limitless love that reaches even to the outskirts of humanity to touch our brokenness and make us whole.

Please pray with us for our people...the Karimojong...that God would move among them powerfully
to draw them to Himself.

The day does not start well.

It’s 6:30am, and I am squatting in the semi-darkness over a basin of cold water, washing poop out of every crevice of my son’s butt. Perfect start to my day. Some things about rectal prolapse are not so nice. Like loss of bowel control.

And I am grumbling already.

An hour later I am squatting over another basin of cold water, washing poop out of underwear, shorts, and washcloths while one of my sick, fussy babies cries continually in the background.

And I grumble some more.

This week has been busy, full of sick people, malnourished babies, and a broken arm. Out of all the people admitted to the local clinic, over half are ones we brought. So we run back and forth, bringing food (because they don’t provide food at clinics or hospitals), bringing hot water (because the clinic has no way to heat water for plastering broken bones), bringing blankets and clothes and soap and basins.

And I grumble.

“I am so tired.”

“I want a nap.”

“This baby just won’t stop crying.”

“I don’t feel good.”

And on and on and on…

Last week we read about the Israelites in the wilderness.

“Oh, that we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. But now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at.”                               Number 11:4-6                                                                                               

40 years of manna…I know I would complain too.

I visit old Modo at the clinic. He is being treated for an ulcer which caused him to be so malnourished that when we found him he could not even sit without passing out. He smiles his toothless smile as he greets me. He’s now able to walk and will be going home today.

I visit the mother Michaela brought in with severely malnourished twin babies. She is being reprimanded by the nurse for not washing her babies’ clothes or bathing them. The baby boy is whimpering quietly, and I wrap him in a clean, soft blanket and cuddle him while his mother tries to nurse his twin sister.

“I don’t have soap,” she says quietly, looking down.

“Or a washing basin, or a husband, or food, or any help at all with her five children,” I think to myself.

She might be 25…maybe.

The nurse explains to me that the mother’s milk is beginning to come back since she has had food.

“You are lucky,” she tells the mother. “These babies can live.”

The mother hides her face again.

“I can’t even say how grateful I am,” she says.

I stop to say goodbye to Anna with the broken arm, hoping she’ll understand why I can’t sit there with her until the doctor comes to set her arm. He finally shows up after 4pm. She’s been sitting since 9am, not to mention she broke it the night before. She is obviously in pain, yet she is profoundly grateful.

And it hits me how UNgrateful I am.

Yes, I am tired. From running after my seven healthy children and cooking delicious gourmet meals for my family.

Of course I want a nap. I have been up nursing two babies with my abundant supply of milk.

Yes, my baby is crying. What a blessing he is healthy enough to wail for my attention.

Yes, I don’t feel good. But I have medicine, food, and a warm house to recover in.

I am so blessed.

Blessed to be able to love, to be the hands and feet of Jesus.

God, let my heart follow my actions. Forgive my ungratefulness. Thank you for water, for basins, for soap, and for little boys who poop in their pants. You are so good to me.

Another rough week this week....honestly, I'm getting tired of them. I wish that every story had a happy ending. I also wish I was able to blog more often. I feel overwhelmed by the stories I want to share but don't have time for. So today I will share just one.

Martina is a mother of two now. She lost her house last year in a fire and has been living where she can, sometimes in abandoned houses, sometimes with random people. She doesn't have a trade or a husband. However, she does like to drink. Too much. So much so that she often sells food to buy alcohol. In fact, that may be the reason her little boy was kicked out of the feeding program he was enrolled in. It couldn't possibly be because of the improvement in his health. Not with his orange hair, and huge, hard belly sticking out below his skinny ribs. He's definitely not healthy. He looks about 18 months, but she claims he's well over two. She also claims he can walk, but his legs shake as we bathe him, and he has to sit in the cold water. He's so hungry he eats a whole box of cookies, an orange and a plate of cabbage and rice. 

She stopped by asking for food, but we recently learned what she does with her food and are reluctant to giver her any. But what about her baby? Somehow we have to find a way to make sure he gets fed. We set up a system we hope will work...daily rations of plumpynut at the Fulks and one meal a day. Nothing she can take home, nothing she can sell. She comes....once.

Apparently she is too busy.

"It's too far to walk each day" she claims. "I am busy planting right now...there's no way I can bring him every day. Why won't you give me food to take home?"

Fast forward a week...little boy is now sick with malaria. She takes him to the clinic. He's given medicine. He's given food. But it's too little too late. Sweet baby boy goes home where he will never hunger again...where he can walk, and even run...

And Martina is back. Sitting in my living room, crying. Is it real? These tears? Does she feel sadness at the loss of her baby boy? I choose to believe it is real, she does hurt. Even though she is still asking me for food, even through her tears. 

Some days it feels so futile.
Some days I wonder where God is in all this.
Does it break his heart to see these children suffer?

I choose to believe he's here. I choose to believe it does break his heart. The consequences of sin are sometimes overwhelming. And even this breaks his heart.  We are so in need of a Savior...so in need of his grace! Grace to bear the consequences, to live in this hurting world.

Please pray for Martina as she mourns the loss of her child. Even more, pray this loss will draw her to Christ and that we can help her with her problem with alcohol.

And pray for us...that Christ's love will overflow through us to bring hope to the hopeless and sight to the blind. Pray that we will have grace for this place and these people who are so in need of our Savior.


P.S. please check out our teammate, Misty's, blog for anther take on this story. 

I realized yesterday as I read back over our blog, that I haven't shared enough with you, our readers, about what has been going on lately with little Achuka. 

Honestly, I've been struggling a lot thinking about what will happen to him. Over the last few weeks we have met with the family a few times and realized that they do not intend to take him back.  They gave every impression that they would, but now they keep putting us off, telling us to wait until planting is finished...wait until the harvest is coming...wait two more weeks, just two more weeks. 

I was able to meet privately with Achuka's father, and my heart broke for his situation. He obviously loves his son, but he is convinced that his other wife will not care for his baby boy. He doesn't want his son to die and is begging us to keep him. 

This is too much for me. To think that this sweet little one has no one who can or will care for him is beyond my imagination. I can't comprehend a culture that would let a baby die rather than go to the trouble to fix a bottle for him. This feels like the bottom of the barrel. I have never seen such disregard for human life...even America's issues with abortion don't compare to this.

Sometimes it becomes difficult to have compassion, to remember that we are all this destitute without Christ. I am just as depraved, just as lost, just as forsaken, just as devoid of compassion and love as this family. Without Christ where would I be? Who would I be? 

An excerpt from my journal:
     "...the thought of giving Achuka back breaks my heart. I'm giving my son to strangers who neither love him nor care whether he lives or dies. I'm trusting that God loves him more than I do and wants the best for him. I'm trusting that God will hold him and care for him when I can't, that Achuka will feel that love daily, and that my prayers, his mother's prayers, will be enough to keep him close to the Father's heart. And that God will be faithful to keep my heart from drying up from too much giving..."

And an excerpt from Katie Davis' blog:
     "...and while the head spins, "Where is God in this mess?" the heart knows the answer, "Right here". God is right here with us. And He knows. This pain, this is what he did for us. Willingly. He knows this hurt because he chose it to save us. And that love is what we live on every day."

Hello from northern Uganda! If any of you are still following our blog, we are still here :) Sorry for the long time between posts, but our internet connection has been painfully slow, and our website has not been uploading at all. 

To update everyone, we have decided not to do surgery on Izzy right now. There don't seem to be any good options as far as surgery goes, and he is doing much better since his last painful ordeal. He now allows us to "help" him, which has completely prevented any more prolapses. Thank God for that! He is doing really well, and is his normal ornery self :)

The rest of us are still struggling with some sickness, but it is definitely minor, as in runny noses and colds. We are thankful to be on the mend, and are looking forward to a lot of things coming up soon.

It's been a busy few weeks for Kenneth! He's been coaching Kotido high school girls' soccer, and just returned yesterday from a week-long tournament about 6 hours away. They performed well, considering they had never had a coach until several weeks ago, and many had never played before! They were also the only team that could not afford shoes. No, I don't mean cleats, I mean shoes! (Flip-flops don't really work well in soccer games...) Several of them had their feet stepped on, and they slipped and slid on the muddy field, but they played their hearts out and were happy with one win, one draw, and three losses. We are thankful to have Kenneth home again, just in time to give me a wonderful Mother's Day!

Next weekend Kenneth will be traveling with a pastor from Kotido back to his village to lead a pastors' training weekend. He is also taking along a friend from the Shalom Sponsorship Program, Lomeriang, that he is currently discipling. It should be a good trip, full of adventure as they are taking the bus, and rainy season is upon us! Hopefully they will not get stuck in the mud :) Pray that God will use this training time to raise up more laborers for his kingdom, and that Kenneth will have wisdom in discipling Lomeriang.

Things here at home are rolling right along. Lately we have been preparing for our summer volunteers who will be arriving the second of June. We are so excited to be welcoming Kristin, Nikki, and my mom (and possibly one other) for two months. I hope their summer will be one filled with the joy of simple living, fellowship, community, and all the adventures Africa has to offer. We are definitely looking forward to the fellowship! 

Little Achuka Moses continues to grow and thrive. He is still small, but his face couldn't get any fatter! His diapers no longer come up to his armpits, but he is too tiny for our smallest outfits. We are all enjoying him and not really looking forward to his going home. We still don't know exactly when that will be, but more than likely it will be soon as he is healthy and strong. I have enjoyed taking care of him immensely and hope to be able to foster more babies while we are here in Karamoja. Please pray for us as we say goodbye to him and for our relationship with his family to continue after he leaves.

Michaela, Misty and I are continuing our Bible storying in the neighborhood next to us. We are now on the story of Abraham, and it has been received with enthusiasm! It's very entertaining to watch the women as they listen to our translator, and to try and figure out which parts of the stories are causing the clapping and agreement. As we said before, most have never heard these stories before, and because they come from a pastoralist culture, they really identify with them. We continue to struggle with the language barrier, but really enjoy being with the people despite the difficulty. During one of our recent storying times, a woman decided to try and braid my hair. She tried her best, but it was too slippery and soft for her to braid in the way they braid their hair, and she was forced to resort to something resembling Princess Leia...not my favorite hairstyle, but I wore it all the way home because she was so proud of it! I felt like I may have gotten stared at more than normal during the walk home...

Things with Shalom Home are continuing to progress very well. We have added a part-time staff member to assist Rainbow Mike with the Mercy Ministry ladies, and our gatekeeper/housekeeper family will be moving in as soon as the roof is finished on their new little home on Shalom property. We recently celebrated Passover together, and the view from Shalom Home was breathtaking. The moon rose over the open field as we waited for our goat to finish roasting on the open fire. It was a precious time of celebrating God's mercy and redemption. We continue to pray that the Karimojong people will come to know this redemption for themselves!


Thank you for your continued support and encouragement. We are feeling so much more at home here, although we will always miss our friends and family in the U.S. Please don't hesitate to send us an email and let us know how you are!