Today and tomorrow, John's seizing an invigorating opportunity as he trains mission-, non-profit, and church workers from Uganda in conflict coaching. Janel is operating in the role of faithful sidekick. It's a lot of prep and a lot of material...but a lot of potential for great things in God's kingdom--its unity, and the know-how to love as Christ loved us when we were His enemies. Would you please pray for us?
Monday, May 12, 2014
Thankful things
Started Mother's Day out with one of these: a malaria test. We test with pretty much every fever...and we're thankful for every single negative result! Plus, he's feeling better. So much to be grateful for!
When success means sacrifice
In honor of Mother's Day this past weekend, I wanted to post the following, about my mom--and as a shout-out of tribute to those of you who offer your kids for the sake of the Gospel.
...
It was past eleven this past Monday evening; my children’s fingers curled limply around the edges of their mattresses, and my husband contentedly read in our bedroom. But my legs were crossed Indian-style on our thinning rug in the living room, the glow of a screen reflecting on my face: time to talk with my Mom, overseas in America. My four sisters and I are flung onto four separate continents around the earth’s axis.
Compared to missionaries in the past, I’ve got a pretty cushy gig. My kids giggle with their grandparents on FaceTime, parading across their latest Lego creations. I own a microwave. Kampala imports Oreos. This is not a bad deal. But you know, there is only one mom. Did I hear a catch in her voice, or was that simply the iffy wi-fi reception? “I’m so glad you called,” she said, her tone a little throatier than usual. “I was just really missing you.”...
Read the rest here.
...
It was past eleven this past Monday evening; my children’s fingers curled limply around the edges of their mattresses, and my husband contentedly read in our bedroom. But my legs were crossed Indian-style on our thinning rug in the living room, the glow of a screen reflecting on my face: time to talk with my Mom, overseas in America. My four sisters and I are flung onto four separate continents around the earth’s axis.
Compared to missionaries in the past, I’ve got a pretty cushy gig. My kids giggle with their grandparents on FaceTime, parading across their latest Lego creations. I own a microwave. Kampala imports Oreos. This is not a bad deal. But you know, there is only one mom. Did I hear a catch in her voice, or was that simply the iffy wi-fi reception? “I’m so glad you called,” she said, her tone a little throatier than usual. “I was just really missing you.”...
Read the rest here.
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