DATELINE: Gulu, Uganda.  8:02 P.M.  That’s 12:02 P.M. CST for those of you keeping score at home.

THE LONG AND BUMPY ROAD

Today, we made it to Gulu!

Because things have begun to settle down after the bombings in Kampala, the VoH board decided to have us drive after all.  Charles-the-Driver (not to be confused with the Charles of Rose-and-Charles fame) arrived to pick us up…with Asunta!!  It was SO GOOD to see them again! Read the rest of this entry »

In my last post, I was “abiding.”  That was before the past four days.  I know Mom said there’d be days like this, but we’re more than halfway to a full week…and counting.

I almost don’t even know where to begin.  This has been a week of daily tragedies.  Something new every day that rocks my world, shakes me to the core, and tests the limits of my faith.  Something new every day that causes me to cling to the feet of the one on the throne, to grab the very soles of His feet and hang on for dear life, to trust that somehow, some way He knows what He is doing and has all of this chaos under control.  Something that makes me lift my tear-filled eyes to meet His, searching, seeking for assurance and answers.  Something that makes me realize how incapable I am of handling life on my own.  Something that makes me know how desperately and completely I need Him.

So, in a nutshell, here is the week-at-a-glance…and bear in mind, it’s only Wednesday.

Sunday

We received word that the organization we will be working with in Uganda - an organization that is dedicated to rebuilding the lives of orphans devastated by years of war and civil unrest, an organization whose very name infuses HOPE into the lives of the hopeless, an organization of peace and love and healing in Jesus’ name - was the victim of serious (and false) legal and political accusations.  In order to protect those involved, I will not share the nature of these accusations, but be assured they were serious enough to shut down the whole operation and destroy all that God has spent the last three years building up.

Monday

I awoke to the horrific news of the bombing in Kampala.  Our church had just sent a team there to do church planting/revival and medical clinics.  In fact, Sunday’s worship service was a celebration of their trip and reports from the various team members who participated.  One of the local nurses who worked with our group lost her 26-year-old daughter in the bombing.  And most of you have probably heard of the tragic death of Nick Henn, who worked with Invisible Children rescuing Acholi orphans from devastating circumstances.  Though I don’t have a direct connection to Nick or Invisible Children, the organization I will be traveling to Uganda with (and yes, we will be traveling through Kampala on our way home) also supports Acholi orphans.  We are definitely on the same team, and for that, I feel a special kinship with Nick Henn.

Tuesday

We received a call from some dear friends whose lives have become intricately layered with ours over the past couple of years informing us that the husband had been seriously injured in a motorcycle accident that evening on his way home from work.  Though his injuries do not appear at this point to be life-threatening, they are multiple and serious, and will require a rather long rehabilitation.  To make matters worse, it was the day of their 14th wedding anniversary.

Wednesday

And then came today and an unforgettable “good news/bad news” phone call.  We had planned to take advantage of a discount ticket opportunity to visit Hawaiian Falls for the day.  Matt had gone in to work and would plan to meet us around 2:30.  The kids and I would arrive closer to lunch time and enjoy a picnic-style lunch before splashing our way through the afternoon.  About 11:30, as I was on my way to the park, Matt informed me that the good news was he was leaving then to meet us, since he had the rest of the day off.  The bad news…you guessed it.  He also has tomorrow off.  And Friday.  And next Monday.  And so on.  And so on.  A baker’s dozen of employees were let go today and he was one of the “unlucky 13.”  And while we are optimistic and have faith that ultimately God will provide - a new job, finances in the meantime, and full funding for my trip to Uganda now that we have no “fallback” option - that doesn’t mean that the process is easy.  It’s discouraging.  It’s disheartening.  It’s depressing.  It’s stressful.  And only God knows what the future has in store - for us, for Matt, for our home and ministry and family.

At this point, I might be tempted not to wake up tomorrow.  To fear what lies ahead and what tragedy awaits in the next 24 hours.  But thankfully I know the One who holds tomorrow:

• He’s the Judge, who will deliver justice to those who oppose His plans.
• He’s the Conqueror, who will destroy His enemies and reign victorious.
• He’s the Great Physician, who heals our wounds, and restores us to life abundant.
• He’s the Provider, who ensures our needs are met above and beyond anything we could ask or imagine.

He is.  He was.  He ever will be.  And I will choose to cling to Him.

I love it when a plan comes together!

And no, I was never a fan of “The A-Team” in the 80’s, though I *did* play their theme song in marching and pep band in high school.  But I digress.

I am preparing to return to Gulu, Uganda, in August for 2 weeks.  And though I know God has called me to go, I am truly struggling with why.  What is His purpose for me in going?  What is His plan for me in regard to Village of Hope?  How do I fit in to what He is doing in Africa?  I have wrestled with these questions since my return last November…and I still don’t have the answers.  I’ve seen firsthand how God has transformed the lives of my friends and teammates following our last trip:

my friend Shanna, who has become a dynamic force stateside for fundraising efforts to benefit Village of Hope.

my friend Jennifer and her husband Robert, who God is using to raise awareness through their video production business, and who are the new PR arm of Village of Hope.

my friend Wendy, who -though she traveled to Honduras and not Uganda - is developing a “Coupons for a Cause” program to raise money AND purchase needed supplies for orphans and widows along Honduras’ Mosquito Coast.

my friend Chris, who has already been back to Uganda since our November trip and will be returning with us in August, in order to help organize and establish the medical clinic on the land and train the professionals who will be running it.

The list could go on and on.

And while I’m thrilled for my friends, and excited about what God is doing, and challenged by how God is using them to further His purpose, I admit I’m a little jealous.  Not for notoriety or accolades.  Not for people to pat me on the back or tell me what an inspiration or encouragement I am.  No, I’m jealous because I want to matter.  I want to make a difference.  I want God to use ME, too.

In November, I had no idea what to expect.  I went with a completely open mind, ready to experience all that Africa had to offer.  I was going to soak it all in: the sights, the smells, the sounds, and really LIVE it.  It was an adventure, and I was along for the ride.

But this time, my attitude is a little different.  I already have an idea of what to expect.  I’ve experienced the “vibrant” city of Gulu.  I’ve seen the land - or at least what it looked like seven months ago.  I’ve sat under the stars gazing up at the vast African sky, slept in a mud hut, and survived using a squatty potty.  I’ve eaten goat meat, VERY lean chickens fresh from the kill, and tried posho.  Despite the cultural inconveniences, it’s a huge sacrifice for my family to make for me to return.  I’m giving up two weeks of my summer with my children, right before school starts.  I’m asking my husband to be a single, working parent.  I’m placing a financial burden on our budget during one of the leanest months of the year for us.  I’m absolutely convinced this is the right thing to do…but I’ve wondered WHY?  Over the past seven months I have begged God to reveal His plan to me.  To show me how I fit in.  To give me a place to serve while I am there.

I thought it might be in leading worship, but the children showed me true worship far beyond anything I could offer them.

I thought it might be in establishing relationships with them and nurturing them, but they were in school much of the time we were there.

I thought it might be with the school on the land, helping to organize and plan the curriculum, train the teachers, and gather materials needed…but that required an entire summer - 3 months - away from my husband and children.

And so I have drifted.  As I’ve met our new team and seen the excitement on these fresh new faces, those old feelings of insecurity and uncertainty well up.  Why am I going?  Everyone else seems to KNOW why…they have a purpose, a plan, an idea of what God wants to do, of how God wants to use them.  And I don’t.

Or at least, I didn’t…until our team meeting yesterday.  At that meeting, we received a bit of training on leading ESL classes, which is one of the things we will be doing on the land.  As I listened, those teacher-wheels on my brain started turning…and turning…and soon I had a full-blown locomotive train of thought chugging its way through those mental synapses.  For the first time, I began to feel excitement coursing through me.  I could hardly sit still as the ideas and strategies began flowing.  When the meeting was over, I approached one of our team leaders and practically begged her to let me have a hand in planning the ESL classes.  Next thing I knew, I was handed several thick folders containing our curriculum and told to review and read over them for our next meeting in two weeks and start coming up with strategies and ideas for how we will organize the lessons.

So that’s it!!  That’s why I’m going!!  I get to go to Africa to TEACH!!  To teach these precious children English…and the love of God.  To use my skills as an educator to reach beyond cultural differences and provide them with skills that will give them opportunities they never dreamed of having.  To touch them with words of hope and life…to give them God’s word to hide in their hearts as they are learning English…to show them by words and actions that in Christ we are all one and the same.

As I said earlier, I love it when a plan comes together.  Especially when it’s God’s plan…and He lets me be a small part of it.

It’s Mother’s Day, that day when children have the opportunity to tell their mothers just how special they are.  My children have never disappointed me on Mother’s Day, and this year was no exception.

I received wonderful gifts and cards with heartfelt sentiments which I will treasure.  But of course my favorites by far are the projects they made with their own hands.  Crisana provided me with an acrostic poem which I will share with you, spelling and grammatical mistakes included:

M - Mommy to us!

O - Ocean’s girl!  (I guess because I grew up near the ocean and love the beach?!  Hopefully not because I’m a mermaid or have a fish face or smell like seaweed.)

T - True mother!

H - Hlpful, happy!

E - Engois us!  (translation: Enjoys us!)

R - Really likes games!  (Even more than Diet Coke?  Hmmmm…..)

And then this questionnaire, which I found particularly insightful:

My mother is the most    CARING Mom in the world!

She has     HAZEL eyes and    BROWN hair.  (bless you child, for not noticing - or pointing out - the grey)

She weighs     55 pounds and is about      10 feet tall.  (It is such a comfort to know that my child sees me as the tall, slender beauty I dream of being.)

Her favorite things to eat are        SPINACH AND FISH .  (Obviously my South Beach lifestyle has had more of an impact than I thought.  Chocolate didn’t even make the list.  Impressive.)

My mother is prettiest when she wears     A DRESS.

My mother is funniest when she   IS IN A BUNNY COSTUME.  (Seriously, I have NO idea.)

I like it best when my Mom   PLAYS WITH ME.

I wouldn’t trade my mom for a     MOTORCYCLE.  (So glad to know I’m worth more than a Harley.  But maybe not a Vespa.)

So there you have it.  I’m the coolest, spinach-and-fish-eating, bunny-costume-wearing, 55-pound, 10-foot-tall, worth-more-than-a-motorcycle Mom on the planet!  My daughter said so.

Imagine the following conversation:

Parent:  Son (or daughter), it’s time to clean your room.

Child:  Are you sure?  I mean, my room is kind of big and there’s a LOT of stuff in there.  What if I can’t do it?

Parent:  You have everything you need to be able to clean your room.  I believe in  you.  I know you can do it.  If you get into a tough spot, all you have to do is ask.

Child:  Well….um….yeah, but see there’s this thing I need to do first.  I need to clean up all the other rooms in my house so that I can put everything in my bedroom that goes there and THEN I can clean up my room.

Parent:  Don’t worry about those other things.  Just clean your room.  Just cleaning up the mess that’s already there WILL make a difference.  Trust me on this.

Child:  So do I have to go right now?  Or can I do it later?

Parent:  Right now.

Child:  Are you sure I can’t call a friend first?  Maybe have somebody help me?

Parent:  No, this is a job for YOU to do.  I want you to do this on your own.

Child:  Can I have a snack first?

Parent:  No.  I have asked you to do this now, and frankly I expect you to obey.  Immediately.  Without questioning.  Without stalling.

Child:  Ooohhhh…allllllll riiiiiggghhhhttt…if you say so.  I still don’t understand why I can’t have a snack first.  You KNOW this is going to take F-O-R-E-V-E-R.

-an hour later-

Parent: So, did you clean your room?

Child:  Well, I started to.  I really did.  But then I realized I was overwhelmed with where to start, so I decided to spend some time in prayer about it.  You know, seeking direction and trying to discern the best way and the best method to use to clean my room.  So now I think I have an idea of how I’m going to clean my room!

Parent:  So, are you going to clean your room?

Child:  Oh, yeah!  I guess I better get busy, huh?  sheepishly goes back into his or her room

-an hour later-

Parent: So, is your room clean now?

Child:  Well, sort of.  I began to work through the method I felt was the BEST method for cleaning my room and then I remembered that this friend of mine at school read a book about cleaning your room and the importance of having a clean room and I thought I’d ask him about it so I gave him a call and we talked for nearly an HOUR about it.  Sounds like a great book!  I can’t wait to read it!  And the best part is - I KNOW you’ll be so excited about this - we’re going to get a group together to STUDY this book and READ IT TOGETHER!!  I know about 4 other kids whose parents ask them to clean their rooms and so we’re setting up a study group where we can read the book and talk about what we’re learning and how it applies to cleaning our rooms.  Isn’t that GREAT?!?

Parent:  What would be even greater is if you would actually clean your room.

Child:  Well…okay…I guess you’re right.  I just thought you’d be excited about this.

Parent:  I just want you to do what I’ve asked.  And I’ve asked you to clean your room.

Child:  Yeah.  I got that.  returns to room

-the next day-

Parent:  So is your room finally cleaned?

Child:  Almost.  See, when I was cleaning MY room, I thought about all the other dirty rooms in the world and I realized that not everyone has the benefit of the wisdom and insight that I have about cleaning rooms.  I’ve been really burdened with this and I’ve decided that I’m going to take a break from cleaning my room and go over to Johnny’s house for awhile and help him clean HIS room.  And then I’m going to go to Susie’s house and help her clean her room and then I thought I’d really reach out and go to mean old Joey’s house - you know, that kid who is always such a bully? - and help him clean his room.  I’m going to really show love to the unlovable, you know?  Isn’t that a great thing??

Parent:  That’s really admirable, but I didn’t ask you to go to those places.  I want you to clean YOUR room.  THAT is the job I have given you.

Child:  So…you want me to clean my room?

Parent:  Yes, my child.  I want you to obey.  I want you to do the work I have given you.  I want to reward you for your obedience.  I want you to see the blessings of following the plan I have for you.  I want to share the joy of doing something that may be hard for you…and seeing it through to completion.  All of this I want for you…if only you will obey.

Um, sorry folks.  I’m going to have to stop this post now.  It seems I’ve got some work to do.  I’m off to “clean my room”.

With many thanks to Bruce Miller for the initial analogy which has continued to challenge me.

“When I run, I feel His pleasure.”  - Eric Liddell,

in the film “Chariots of Fire”, 1981

“When I run, I feel very tired.” - Debily,

in the gym “Express Fitness”, 2010

For some reason, I was particularly excited about Easter this year.  Yes, it was my birthday too, but it was more than that.  There was a sense of anticipation, of expectancy.  God was preparing to do something in my heart that morning.

Worship was great.  It was loud and celebratory.  We sang and danced and lifted our voices in praise.  I shed tears of joy and raised my hands in gratitude.  Bruce spoke and brought a message of hope and truth.  And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, the worship & arts team shared this:

Bring Me To Life

That’s when it hit me.  Like JoElla in the drama, I have been living in shades of grey for the past year.  Journeying through this dark place over these last twelve months, I have tried to find ways to bring life to the dead places inside. I’ve tried to bring splashes of color into the greyness only to find that it fades far too quickly, leaving the picture more muddled and bland than before.  I’ve denied those emotions that seek to lead me astray so often that I was growing numb, had almost forgotten how to feel, was afraid to let any emotion in.  And though I knew God was the answer - that only HE could fill those empty spaces, only HE could bring color to my dark and dreary landscape, only HE could bring joy and peace to my weary soul - I couldn’t seem to connect with Him anywhere.  My flame was growing cold.  My light was growing dim.  I desperately wanted to reach out for Him, but He seemed awfully far away.

Until now.  All those sleepless nights as I cried out for Him, pleaded with Him to restore me, to heal my broken places, to bring me back to life…all those times He seemed so silent, He was there.  He was listening. He was hearing my anxious cries.  He was feeling my hurts and sorrows.  He was aware of my failings and struggles.

He was waiting.

Waiting until the time was right.  Waiting until I was ready.  Waiting for a moment when I would know that He was there all along.  Waiting for me to yield all control and let go of my selfish pride so that He could take over.  Waiting…patiently.

The time has come.  I’m no longer hiding in the shadows.  I’m no longer afraid to feel.  I’m no longer colorless and grey.  I’m no longer fearful of my struggles.  The tomb is empty.  Sin and death are conquered.  My Savior lives…and so do I.  He came to give LIFE and LIFE ABUNDANT, and I am ready to experience it.

Wait…that didn’t come out quite right.  *sigh*

Regardless, it’s Thursday, and it’s time for some gratitude.  And in honor of my 12th anniversary of my 29th birthday, I’m going to offer up 41 reasons I’m grateful.

DEBILY’S TOP 41: I’M GRATEFUL….

1. for another year to celebrate life, even if I am officially over the hill.  There’s no turning back now!
2. that my birthday landed on Easter this year.  It took on extra-special significance.
3. that Matt’s here to celebrate birthdays with me.  I kind of like having him around.
4. for my family: my mom and my children and my brothers, all of whom contributed to make my day special
5. for friends.  Once upon a time, I had no one to call my friend.  Now, my life is filled to overflowing with them.
6. for pretty dresses that make me feel beautiful.
7. for eyebrow waxes and manicures and pedicures that make me feel refreshed.  And young.
8. for peep-toed pumps that show off my pretty pink toenails.
9. for music that speaks to my heart and connects me to my God.
10. for a church that proclaims the truth and reaches out to hurting people.
11. for my loving God, who has drawn me to Himself and given me hope.
12. for the sacrifice of Jesus, who took the punishment I deserved so I wouldn’t have to live apart from Him for all eternity.
13. for birthday cake and rocky road ice cream.
14. for the 4-year-old classes at McFBC and their exuberant praise on Sunday mornings.
15. for the teachers in Promiseland who sing their hearts out and do the motions with me as we worship God each week.
16. for sunshine and warm weather.
17. for the Dallas Farmer’s Market.
18. for fresh fruit and vegetables.
19. for Big Gulps of Diet Coke and car cupholders that can contain them.
20. that my children have come to the saving knowledge of Jesus.
21. for my mp3 player.
22. for the songs on my mp3 player, even if some of them are “secular.”
23. for ab machines and treadmills and water bottles.
24. for family game nights and Conga and The Game of Life: Twists and Turns and Finding Nemo Go Fish.
25. for Facebook.  And all 539 friends I am connected to through it.
26. for rainy Fridays and sunny Saturdays.
27. for Ms. Kesler’s precious kindergarteners at Webb Elementary.
28. for kids eating free at IHOP.
29. for the inland sea oats that are thriving in my front flowerbed.
30. for the salvia that did not die after being banished in the garage for a week.
31. for the marigolds that are still blooming 2 weeks after I planted them.
32. for hot showers and cold air conditioning.
33. for The Princess Bride and Clue and The American President and Dave and Hoosiers.
34. for LOST and American Idol and Dancing with the Stars.
35. for baseball.
36. that the Rangers and Red Sox both won their opening games.
37. that the Yankees lost on opening night.
38. for the privilege of going to Uganda and meeting the children there.
39. for the hope of returning in August to see them again.
40. for Cadbury Creme Eggs.  Thank you, Easter Bunny! Bok!  Bok!
41. for the life God has given me.  I am blessed beyond measure.

As I look ahead to my *gasp* 13th anniversary of my 29th year, my future has never been more wide-open.  I’m eager to see where God will take me in the 365 days that lie in front of me.  May I never waste an opportunity to experience His blessing, be a part of His work, or follow His plan.  May I always be mindful of the reasons to be grateful along the way.

Well, it’s either that or “bad things happen in threes.”  But since I’m a positive person, I’d rather look on the bright side.  Whatever cliche’ you use, the results are the same: the miracle of multiplying food at Taco Bueno has struck again.  For the third time.

As has become custom for me on Wednesdays, I was headed through the drive-thru to pick up lunch in between piano students.  I already had a drink, and I was low on cash, so my order was simple.  ONE item.  My favorite: a vegetarian black-bean burrito.  I ordered, was told my total, gathered my cash, and proceeded to the window to pay and receive my order.

And somewhere in between, a blessed miracle occurred.

For you see, when I opened the bag after driving away from the window, I noticed not ONE wrapped food item, not TWO wrapped food items, but FIVE.  It was obvious, even though they were wrapped, that at least one was burrito-shaped.  Some were taco-shaped.  Some were even quesadilla-shaped.  None were vegetarian black-bean burrito shaped.

I’ll be honest:  I was tempted.  Tempted to take the food and run.  Tempted to be grateful for being the recipient of another divine blessing over my Taco Bueno order.  But when I discovered that there were no vegetarian black-bean burritos…and remembering the last time when I had been cheated out of my cheesecake chimis…well, I knew there would be no rejoicing in this meal.

So I turned the car around and headed back through the drive-thru.  I rolled down my window and in my sweetest southern drawl informed the attendant that I had not, in fact, received MY order.  Sheepishly, he admitted, “You ordered the vegetarian black-bean burrito.  I think you got a #5.”  And in a flash, my miracle order was reduced to one vegetarian black-bean burrito in a little plastic bag.

And I was happy.   Not as happy as I would have been if they’d thrown in a free mixed berry cheesecake chimi, but happy nonetheless.

This morning brings deep sorrow.  First of all, I will not win the “Biggest Loser” competition.  I gave it a valiant effort, but just couldn’t seem to drop more than 8 lbs. during the past couple of months.

Snark aside, I’m deeply saddened for another reason this morning.

That’s our old house.  On Friday evening, the house was destroyed by a massive fire.  Thankfully no one was injured.  But the family who lived there lost everything.

My heart is broken for that family.  And I feel a sense of loss, too.

That was our very first house.  We poured our hearts into building our lives in that home.  We redid the entire landscape - by hand.  We planted those trees and tore out the old shrubs to plant new ones.  The bench in front of the living room window was an anniversary present from my mom.  The red oak on the left was a housewarming gift from my parents.  The window on the far right was first a sitting room, then a guest bedroom, and finally Crisana’s room.  The window on the left was Matt’s office.  We found many stray baseballs from the field across the street in our flowerbeds.  We brought our children home from the hospital to their lovingly decorated nurseries in this house.  We acquired two pets in this home.  We held Bible studies and neighborhood dinners and Sunday School Christmas parties here.  We hosted playgroups and birthday parties and movie nights.  We formed friendships and made lasting memories within those walls.

I imagined one day taking my children back to this house to show them where it all began.  To let them see where they got their start.

And now, it is no more.  Farewell, 2550 Parkhaven Drive…and thanks for the memories.