Some thoughts from the author…

It’s been over two years since I last posted. And what a two years they’ve been.

We traveled to the US on furlough — and then got stuck there because of Covid-19 and world-wide travel restrictions. The restrictions lifted and we made tentative plans to return to Uganda, when my father, the pastor of our sending church, had a heart attack. A month later, he ended up in the hospital with a serious case of Covid. These left him weak and tired and without much of a voice. So he asked James to stay and help in our sending church for a few months, until he could get stronger and resume doing it himself. About the time he was well enough for us to come back, Uganda locked down again. This time, the airport remained open, but the travel restrictions inside the country would have made getting home to our house very difficult. So we waited again.

In October 2021, Uganda opened churches again and lifted a few of the travel restrictions. We made plans, got tickets and started packing like crazy.

It’s challenging to reduce all the belongings you’ve accumulated for two+ years into fifty pound pieces of luggage. We sorted, gave things away, stored things we didn’t need here (like winter clothes and the clothing Elizabeth needs for college), and still managed to fill 19 pieces of luggage.

Uganda requires a negative PCR test 72 hours before arrival at the airport. We found a lab and got our tests on Monday, before we left on Tuesday. They assured us the results would be back in 24 hours. 

Tuesday, we loaded up all our stuff and drove to the airport, said our goodbyes to the family who took us, and undertook the long journey, which was supposed to be complete Wednesday night in Entebbe, Uganda.

We didn’t have any test results yet, but the airline attendant allowed us to fly anyway, due to the fact our first two flights were to places that allowed vaccination for arrival. She also waived all the extra fees for our substantial amount of luggage, a huge blessing!

Two of the negative tests came through our email within 24 hours. They let us fly to Amsterdam, under the assumption the final three would be in the email by the time we arrived there.

They weren’t.

And the airline couldn’t allow us on the flight to Entebbe without them.

And it was the middle of the night in the US so we couldn’t call the lab to check on it.

Thankfully, the airline worked with us. The lady assured us this happened all the time. They’d get us on another flight as soon as they could so the tests would still be valid (remember within 72 hours of our arrival). Then we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, almost 48 hours had passed and we were feeling desperate. We tried calling the lab using voice over internet. We tried to find a way to chat with them online, but the people there said we had to call. A man from the airport hiked halfway across it to let me try using his phone to call the lab, but it still wouldn’t work. 

My sister asked if there was anything she could do to help. Between the two of us, we devised a crazy way to get in touch with the lab. She called them on the house phone and put them on speaker, while she had me on a FaceTime audio call over the internet. What little the lady at the lab couldn’t hear, my sister was able to communicate. Within 20 minutes we had our results and were able to get our tickets changed to fly to Africa!

No flights were available to get us to Uganda in time for our tests to still be valid. However, Kenya’s requirements were for 96 hours and our tests would allow us entry there. Once we were approved in Kenya, we could fly to Uganda without any problems.

So we flew to Paris, spent 12 hours of a layover in the airport there, flew to Nairobi, Kenya, had a short layover, and then flew to Entebbe.

God blessed us so that not once did anyone question the timing of our tests after that initial flight into Kenya. We got retested after arriving in Uganda (negative, again) and went through Immigration. 

Once through Immigration and after our tests, we found our luggage hadn’t been on the flight with us. In fact, it was still in Amsterdam, or possibly on a flight from there that would arrive later in the evening. We put in a lost luggage claim for it, made our way through customs with our carry-on luggage, and headed to a guest house James had arranged for before we ever left the US. 

By this time, we’d been awake for the better part of 4 days. We managed to stay awake long enough to eat some food and take much-needed showers. Then we collapsed in bed and slept until the next morning!

Thankfully, all but one piece of our luggage arrived the next day. Miraculously, nothing in it was broken except for one small plastic container inside a Ziplock bag. Nothing was stolen, even though almost half of the luggage hadn’t been properly secured after going through TSA in the US. God was watching over all of it!

They still didn’t know where that last piece was. A lady where we were staying suggested it might be in Kigali. The KLM flight stops there on its way to Entebbe. She said she knew of people who’d had their luggage unloaded there by mistake. We mentioned this to the people who were looking for it. Sure enough, our luggage was in Kigali. They brought it to us a couple days after we got home.

Below are pictures my youngest daughter took of our trip. The kids managed to see the Eiffel Tower as we were taking off from Paris but she didn’t get a picture of it. 

Sunrise through the airplane window as we arrived in Amsterdam.
These three were still smiling despite being awake for 36 hours!
Our first glimpse of Uganda after almost 2-1/2 years.
Landing in Uganda. You think you might touch down in Lake Victoria, then the wheels hit the tarmac on good, solid earth.

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You can find the first part of Ngumbito’s story here. Ngumbito, a man from Independent Baptist Isanja, was wrongfully imprisoned and accused of murder. His family didn’t know where they’d taken him to jail, but it was somewhere away from the refugee camp.

We knew a couple important things about Ngumbito’s situation in prison. First, there was a strong chance he was not being fed or cared for in prison. Second, any intervention on our part (as foreigners) would make things worse, not better, for him.

We talked with several of the church leaders on Sunday. James helped them with money for transportation and bail money, and extra in case they had to pay “administrative fees” to help Ngumbito when they found him.

Zizi messaged on Monday that they’d found Ngumbito in a town over 3 hours from the refugee camp. They left early Tuesday morning to travel to the town and locate Ngumbito using the motorcycle God provided for our churches out at the refugee camp. It handled the three riders the whole distance without any trouble.

He was being held in a maximum security prison with men who’d been convicted of violent crimes. This prison is where they send the worst criminals in Uganda — and they send them there to die. They’d caught the actual murderers and they were being held at the same prison as Ngumbito. They didn’t feed him the whole time he was there.

We had strong rain the day the men traveled to the prison. Part of their trip was on a motorcycle through mountains — in the heavy rainstorm. 

The prison officials were prepared to keep Ngumbito at the prison until the trial, which won’t happen for another 6 months or more (probably much more). Byuma (Ngumbito’s pastor at Isanja), Zizi, and Kiza (a deacon at Sangano) negotiated with the prison officials for Ngumbito’s release. They paid his bail and hired one of the guards to make sure he had food and water until he was sent home.

They took this proof of life photo with the prison guard who promised to look out for Ngumbito.

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(l-r: Byuma, Kiza, Ngumbito, Zizi, prison guard)

Ngumbito was release on bond the next Thursday. He was in attendance at our huge Easter Celebration Sunday and shared his testimony with everyone. He shared how God had protected him from people who would have tried to hurt him.

***

Now for the other part of the “Stranger than Fiction” story. Because, to get the full picture, you have to see what God did, behind the scenes, years earlier.

Our oldest son, James, had an abscess in one of his molars when he was 10 or 11 years old. It was a permanent tooth, so we nursed it along with antibiotics until the dentist finally decided it would be wiser to pull it.

Then we forgot all about it. His other teeth filled in the hole and we went on with life.

This week, he got his wisdom teeth pulled — all of them, that is, except the wisdom tooth on the side where the abscess had been. That wisdom tooth had grown in without a problem and replaced the molar he’d lost years ago. 

The cost we saved on that tooth removal was just slightly less than what we paid for Ngumbito’s bail and the transport to help our guys find him.

7 years ago, God provided for Ngumbito’s bail.

It kinda sends chills up and down your spine, doesn’t it?

Ngumbito still hasn’t gotten his bike back. They are holding it as evidence against the real murderers. He will have to testify against them when the trial finally takes place. He could have a long road ahead of him. If you think about it, pray for Ngumbito and his family in the months ahead.

The only trampoline accident we’ve ever had (thank God!) wasn’t long after we got to Africa and set the thing up in our yard. The kids went quickly from normal jumping to trying crazy tricks.

To this day, I get mixed reports of what actually happened that afternoon. As I understand it, the kids were trying a variety of flips — backflips, front flips, cartwheels. Jamie didn’t quite complete the flip. His mouth hit his knee and he broke off his permanent front tooth.

At the time, we had a dentist in town who could do simple things like cleanings and basic fillings. He was able to put a temporary polymer in place on the broken tooth, and build it back to its normal size, permanent enough to last until Jamie could grow up and get a crown put on. The dentist also told us the temporary measure would only last until Jamie was 17 or 18.

Right on cue, last fall the temporary polymer started having trouble. We knew it was only a matter of time until it fell off completely. Trouble was, the only dentist we knew of who could do the crown was in Kampala, 4 1/2 hours away.

Around that time, we heard of a new dental office in town, about a half mile from our house. We heard it was clean and that the dentist was skilled. We decided to look into it.

I’m so thankful we found out about Trust Dental. The office staff is wonderful. Dr. Ibra is a complete professional. We’ve been in there so much over the last couple months that they recently told us we need to be sure to keep in touch when all of our dental stuff is finished. Hah! 😀 

We were all able to get cleanings. (No cavities! Yay!) They used 3D printing technology to make Jamie’s crown and put it on in the office. They removed 4 sets of wisdom teeth from us. They can also do orthodontia and bridges — though I sincerely hope it never comes to that!

Trip to the Dentist 1

They needed an x-ray of Jamie’s front tooth, which they took right in the office. I’m pretty sure Alex needed a lead vest for protection, too. The imaging center they used for all of our wisdom teeth x-rays was a lot better shielded for the technician, too.

Trip to the Dentist 2

Trip to the Dentist 3

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They went out of their way to make sure the younger kids were comfortable with the whole experience and not frightened or in pain, including letting Brennah be the assistant for the day.

Best of all, knowing I was going to have a challenging wisdom tooth extraction, Dr. Ibra and his staff stopped and prayed with me before we began. Shiba, one of his assistants, prayed for me during the procedure when I was having a hard time.

My dental experience in the states was never this good. I think I’d rather see my dentist in Africa.

Stranger than Fiction

When the Truth is Stranger than Fiction

Ngumbito wasn’t well acquainted with the men who knocked on his door. He’d seen them around, they were his neighbors, but he didn’t know much about them. They asked if they could rent his motorcycle to move something. Ngumbito agreed. He had a family to feed and every little bit of money helped. The men paid him, took his motorcycle and left. A few hours later they returned with the motorcycle, as agreed.

The next morning, police came to Ngumbito’s house. They asked if the motorcycle was his. He said it was. He had nothing to hide from the police. They arrested him and took him to prison in another district. 

His alleged crime? First degree murder.

Turns out, those men who rented his motorcycle, had used it to drive to someone’s house and murder them. Then they disappeared after returning Ngumbito’s motorcycle. Someone had seen Ngumbito’s motorcycled in front of the house where the murder took place and informed the police. The police didn’t ask many questions. They charged Ngumbito with the crime and took him away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Penal codes in Uganda are similar to the ones in the US Constitution. No one can be held for more than 48 hours without being charged. They must have sufficient evidence of the crime to charge them. They are entitled to a fair trial. Sadly, this isn’t always the way things work.

Ngumbito is one of the leaders at the Isanja church. He leads singing every Sunday, gives announcements, and helps with children’s church. Right now, no one at the church knows where they took him. This might be the most frightening part of the whole story. None of the police they’ve talked to will tell his family where he is.

Prisons in Uganda aren’t the same as prisons in the US. Inmates aren’t guaranteed three meals a day here. They might not even get one meal unless a family member brings it for them. They can be beaten or mistreated. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. 

Typically, a prison inmate’s wife or relative would bring him food, toiletries, and clean clothes. They’d need to visit several days a week. 

Trials can be put off for months. A person in prison for a petty crime might be incarcerated for several years simply because the judge doesn’t show up for their trial. It can take them months to work their way down the docket to that inmate’s case.

You can also be incarcerated with little to no evidence against you. Ngumbito is a case in point. 

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Ngumbito is the man on the far right in this picture. If you think about it, please pray for him. Pray for those who are looking for him to find him soon. Pray that justice will be done and that he won’t be punished for someone else’s crime!

A few months ago, I shared how they surveyors had found no water deep in the ground at Independent Baptist, Sangano. Water is a huge need there and we determined not to give up.

The survey took place in July. We’d payed the company most of the money for the whole job, expecting they’d find water and put in a well. When they didn’t, we asked for a refund of the money they didn’t use for parts and some of the labor. We knew this would be a decent amount of money and would allow us to look into other options.

We researched what others in the area had done for water. Our thought was, if you can’t find water under ground, look for water above ground. James began pricing what we’d need for rainwater collection. 

It took almost three months to get the money refunded. It was a miracle they refunded it at all! Many companies here have NO refund policy and if they do have one, they won’t honor it. This is changing little by little but you never know ahead of time how it will work.

The mason, Crispus, put together a price list for buying 10,000 liter water tanks, guttering for the school buildings, and bricks and cement to make a protective enclosure. (Left in the hot equatorial sun, the plastic water tanks will eventually degrade and break. The enclosure helps them last much longer.)

Pretty much the same day we received the refunded money, Crispus was out at Sangano putting in the tanks. We felt like it was a race against time. They’d gotten a little rain, but the rainy season hadn’t really started for them.

The rains came within days of the finished work. They used the first tanks full of water only for cleaning and laundry and then sanitized the inside of the tank with what remained before it rained again.

God provided a wonderful rainy season for them. The tanks stayed full until the end of January. The dry season was short. It usually lasts (for them) from mid to late December until the end of February. It’s been raining at Sangano since mid-February and the tanks are full once more.

Living Water

The tanks look like little huts. A spigot comes out of the bottom of the tank and is far enough above the ground so they can get a jerry can under it. One good rainstorm will fill both of the tanks completely full, so there is a runoff pipe at the top. When they get good rain, they empty it as fast as they can so they can take the most advantage of the water.

They’ve been able to use the abundant water as a ministry out of the church. When they have enough water, they hand it out to anyone in the community who needs it. The people come for drinking water and the church people use it to introduce them to the Water of Life.

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(Last fall, I managed to lose all the photos I’d taken for the previous 10 months. Yes, I cried. That event has been the single reason for the sporadic nature of my blogging the last few months. For one thing, I had pictures I’d been saving to use in future blog posts. Now I have to find those particular scenarios again and photo them. I got out of the habit of blogging and have struggled to get back into it. I’m trying to build back the habit. Hopefully, I’ll get more faithful with it over the next few weeks.)

A Church for Isanja, Update

A few months ago, I posted about Isanja’s need for a new church building. The building has only gotten worse since then. When we showed the Jesus video during VBS last August, we had to drape a sheet over the hole above the door to block out most of the light. Not long afterward, the entire front door fell out of the church. There’s been a gaping hole in the church since September last year.

A Church for Isanja

A Church for Isanja 2

A Church for Isanja 3

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Our desire had been to tear down the entire church and rebuild it with baked bricks – mud bricks that had been heated for several days until they are very hard. The baking process kills any termite eggs hiding out in the mud used for the bricks and makes them last years longer. They are, however, quite a lot more expensive than the mud bricks the people use for building their houses. 

Little by little the building has been falling down. It’s been in worse and worse condition every time we go out there. Finally, one Sunday, the people told us they were going to make the bricks and rebuild the church. After a lengthy (and sometimes heated!) discussion, we realized that our Isanja church folks truly wanted to do most of the work themselves. They didn’t feel the need for the more expensive bricks. In fact, they felt like a church made from them wouldn’t fit in their community. We were so thankful they talked to us about it.

Since then, they’ve been diligently making bricks and letting them dry. We’ve been getting a lot of rain so the drying process has been slow. They had 2,000 bricks stacked in the back of the church today (out of the rain) that they made in the last couple weeks.

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They are so excited about it, too. It’s exciting for them to have a part in making their own church. We will need to help them with cement, metal windows and doors, and iron sheets for the roof. Sometime in the future, they’ll need more benches (they don’t have enough seating most of the time) and we’d like to put bookshelves and a small library there, too.

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A Church for Isanja 7

The mason who built the church at Ngarama will be going out there to check on their work in the next few days. I know he prefers the baked bricks. The mud bricks might be a hard sell for those church folks to make to Crispus. I’m sure there will be other discussions in the future. I’ll keep you posted on the progress.

Meanwhile, they have a man-sized hole in the church grounds. The guys who made it were pretty excited about it. I actually caught a couple of them smiling for the picture. (Is this the African version of a man hole? I’ve been wondering ever since I took the picture. 😉 )

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Door of Hope

My first novel, Talents, was originally inspired by the parable Jesus told of the talents. As I considered the characters in that book and wrote them, I wanted to show modern people using the gifts God had given them — their talents.

On the heels of that first book came the idea for the second book in the series. It didn’t have a name for a very long time. I’m terrible at naming books. The whole idea started with the question “How would Hosea’s children have felt about the way his wife treated him?”

There are many books out there based on the book of Hosea in the Bible. I didn’t want this to be another one of those. Instead, I considered a girl whose mother had rejected her father, yet her father chose to love her mother anyway. How would that girl have felt?

And so, Carly’s character in Door of Hope took form. 

Life hasn’t gone the way Carly had planned. She’s facing real struggles that are exacerbated by her poor relationship with her mom. However, Carly has no idea why her relationship with her mom is strained. One day she felt like everything was okay, the next it wasn’t.

Carly is struggling with disillusionment and depression. People she thought were her friends have abandoned her when she needed them most. She agrees to live with her elderly grandmother because she feels like she has no other options. She also feels like her grandmother is one of the few people who really love her.

Sound depressing? I promise the whole book isn’t a downer. 🙂

That’s why it’s called

Door of Hope.

Carly realizes God has given her a way above her problems. The struggles will still be there, but Carly doesn’t have to live in despair because of them. 

This book continues the story of Parker, Alice, and Jasmine, as well as a pivotal role played by Pastor Conner’s wife. We also get glimpses of Shondra.

I hope this has wet your curiosity and you’ll take the time to read Door of Hope! It’s available right now on Amazon!

One of my favorite parts of church is teaching Sunday School. Someone gave us Betty Luken’s flannel graph material. Our kids love the huge, colorful pictures. 

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Amazingly, my chronological teaching brought me to the Christmas story at Christmas! I was so excited by this! I taught about the angel appearing to Zacharias and something struck me I’d never noticed before.

The angel said “…your prayer is heard and your wife, Elizabeth, will bear a son…” (Luke 1:13, paraphrase mine 😉 )

Zacharias and Elizabeth were old, too old to have children. How long must they have prayed for children? Through their entire childbearing years? They’d probably stopped praying for a child since Elizabeth was beyond that stage in her life. They thought it was too late and that God had chosen not to give them children.

All those years, all those prayers, all the sorrow and rejection and hurt they must have felt. The feeling that God wasn’t listening to them at all.

BUT GOD had heard them and He’d chosen to answer them when they thought they were too old.

The Psalmist reached that point in his prayer life, too. 

Psalm 13: 1—4

How long wilt though forget me, O Lord? for ever? how long wilt thou hide thy face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? how long shall mine enemy be exalted over me? Consider and hear me, O Lord my God: lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death; Lest mine enemy say, I have prevailed against him; and those that trouble me rejoice when I am moved.

So often, here on the mission field, we’re confronted by overwhelming needs, needs that are beyond our power to meet. We pray about them. Sometimes, many times even, it feels like God isn’t listening. 

It’s easy to feel like the psalmist:

  • forgotten
  • ignored
  • sorrowful
  • depressed
  • defeated

BUT…

Has God forgotten us? Is He hearing our prayer? Is He waiting to answer until just the right moment — like in Zacharias’ case, when God wanted to do something impossible because He’s God and He can?

I’ve read Psalm 13 so many times, yet the other day when I read it, the words jumped out at me. The Psalmist was expressing exactly how I was feeling that day. Then I reached the end of the psalm:

But I have trusted in thy mercy; my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation. I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with me.

Psalm 13: 5—6

What do you do when you feel like God isn’t listening?

You make a tiny shift in focus from yourself to God.

You remember God’s blessings, the times He listened and answered.

When has God ever failed you? I can’t think of a time He’s ever failed me. I can’t think of a need that He left unanswered. I look back at times He made me wait and see His gracious timing, his bountiful goodness.

Instead of looking at what He hasn’t done (yet!), you remember what He has done.

Then you thank Him for it. 

And wait to see what He has planned in answer to the need you’re facing right then.

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A few weeks ago, someone put this sign up along one of our jogging routes:

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The arrow on the sign points to this hill which goes up

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and up

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and up.

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We joke that the sign at the bottom is a warning to all those who would tackle the hill. Qyt (or quit) while you’re ahead! 

A few years ago I could barely walk up this hill without getting severely out of breath and wanting to quit. Now, my daughter and I jog it at least once a week. What used to be a daunting obstacle is now a challenge we face intentionally.

Life is like that. It’s like that for everyone, but often those challenges are worse for missionaries living overseas. Several months ago I wrote a post about culture stress. I wrote another about staying relevant when you live overseas

In the interest of full disclosure, we are not, nor have we ever been contemplating quitting anything here in Uganda. But that doesn’t mean we don’t face times of discouragement or challenge. Everyone does. It’s part of life.

It’s kind of like this hill. Life’s challenges rise up in front of us. They are daunting. We don’t know if we can get through them. Yet, there they are and they must be faced. 

What You Should Do When You Want To Quit

1. Slow Down

When Jesus was facing his sacrifice for us on the cross, he took time alone in the garden to pray. He stopped all outward activity. He kneeled down. The struggle was still there. (He was in agony and sweat great drops of blood!) But He took time apart to refocus on His father’s will. (Luke 22:41-44)

When facing the above hill, I must slow down. Sure, I could sprint up it full speed, but if I did that I might not be able to finish. 

When I’m faced with a challenge in life, it helps to slow down and refocus on my heavenly Father and His will for me.

2. Allow Yourself to Contemplate Quitting

Wait! Don’t stop reading now! Contemplating quitting isn’t the same as quitting. 

Jesus, when faced with the cross, asked God to remove the cup of His suffering from him. (Luke 22:42) Jesus is God and even He felt like quitting!

When I first started jogging up that hill, I couldn’t do the whole thing without a break in the middle. It took months to reach the point I could run up without stopping to walk. For months after that, I’d get two-thirds to the top and my body would rebel against my efforts. My hip flexors would cramp, I’d come right to the edge of an asthma attack. I wanted to quit. I thought about walking the rest of it. 

Sticking through life’s challenges is a mind game, just like jogging up that hill was a mind game for me. Sometimes we give ourselves a mental edge when we *stop* fighting. 

If I quit, what would I have? What would I do if I quit doing this? What would the consequences be for me? For other people? 

Every time, EVERY time, God brings me to the point of seeing that what I need is NOT to quit. What I need is a mental break from the challenge. It was the same for Jesus before the cross. God sent angels to minister to Him. (Luke 22:43)

Sometimes simply contemplating quitting gives that needed mental break. Then we can refocus on God and His will and realize it’s not really what we want.

3. Pray

Jesus prayed in the garden before His crucifixion. He encouraged His disciples to do the same. Prayer refocuses us. Our vision shifts from ourselves and our problem or challenge and comes to rest on God, who is greater than any challenge. (Luke 22:40)

4. Take the Next Step

When I’m jogging up that hill, I don’t have to jog the whole thing at once. I do it one step at a time. All I have to take is the next step. Every step may be a challenge but each one gets me closer to the top.

So it is with life. We don’t have to face the whole challenge at once. We just have to do the next thing. Then the next. Then the next. It’s simple and it’s hard. 

For Jesus, this meant facing the man who’d betrayed Him. Sometimes, for us, it means choosing victory over defeat. It means choosing forgiveness over bitterness. It means choosing to hope instead of doubt or fear. It means choosing joy over discouragement. It’s simple and it’s hard. But it’s one step at a time.

5. Victory Breeds Victory

Every time I succeeded in getting up that hill made it easier to run up it the next time. Now, years into adding it into our weekly routine, I don’t even think about it. My mind goes to that place where I’m not thinking about my feet and what they are doing. I think about the song in my earbuds. I think about a story I’m writing. I think about the little kids yelling at me as I jog past. Once, a good friend of ours drove past in his car and had to honk to get my attention. I was so far into the zone I didn’t notice him.

Every time we face our desire to quit and come out victorious, we make it easier to face it with victory the next time. Victory breeds victory. Every right choice is easier the next time. Step by step, we find ourselves on the other side of the problem or struggle and now we can see it from above, from God’s perspective. We can face the next challenge from a place of victory. 

How can we have this victory? How can we walk in it? We have it because, when faced with His greatest challenge, Jesus chose to face it and walk through it. We have victory through His victory. 

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I set a number of goals at the beginning of the year. One of them was to blog at least twice a week. I failed miserably to achieve that goal the last few weeks. They were very profitable weeks and they flew by.

I’ll be coming back to events that took place as I blog in the future. Instead of catching you up on the events with words, I’ll let the following pictures wet your appetite for upcoming posts!

African Fabric Store

My Namesake Anna

African Tailor Shop

Kids listening during VBS

Kids Listening during VBS 2

African lion!

Book sorting

African zebra

First Day of School