They are here--my parents are here!
And you would have thought, by the looks of my living room, that it was Christmas. A lot of this, actually, was thanks to your generosity. I am nothing short of floored at the kindness of friends who asked what we could use and what they could send. If I run out of parmesan cheese, deodorant, or felt-tip markers in the next year, it is my own fault. (Or at least my remarkably creative three-year-old's.) John and I have been overwhelmed by how we are so "sent", in the Romans 10 sense, by so many of you: care packages, e-mails, blog comments, prayers, Facebook messages. We are both feeling deeply humbled by the extent to which you hold up our arms.
Already we are stockpiling so many great memories with family here, and there are still moments that I look across and am again surprised that I am seeing these people I love, these people with history, sitting across from me. As they experience this--and as John's parents will in just a few weeks!!--sharing this place with them makes us feel inestimably understoood and loved.
Some of the best moments so far have been handing out one by one the gifts they brought for our Ugandan staff. Most don't have a Bible of their own, and my parents found some, then had them engraved with each person's name. (Serious kudos to the Mardel guy who imprinted twelve Ugandan full names without error.) Handing the eMi guards or cook or housekeepers their own Bible was a precious snapshot in time, as my parents thanked them for taking care of us and watched the incredulous white smiles spread across the open, kind faces of our friends. But even more so was the moment they saw their own name on the Bible--something I haven't seen here. The looks of amazement and appreciation on those friends we love so well was something I think I'll remember for a long time.
So it was a special treat today that an article I wrote at least a year ago in tribute to them was published today on familylife.com: What My Parents Taught Me About Generosity. It was a rich gift of God to be able to sit here tonight, in the quiet of our Ugandan living room, and read this to them.
We have a generous God.