Curse, Death and a Stolen Bicycle

One of the things that is a powerful controller here in Uganda is the FEAR of being cursed. Of course, FEAR is always at the heart/root of fallen worldview and culture, it's just how that fear is played out that differentiates one culture from another. Satan is crafty and tends to root fear so deeply within a worldview that it is often unnoticed and the power of its control in maintained with little effort. Both Islam and Catholicism maintain much syncretism within their respective religions, keeping close ties to the culture of witchcraft and practice.

With that background, I want to introduce you to my friend Wandera. Wandera has been working at NHICF since we first came in 2002 to go through the Institute. He is a groundskeeper, faithful, steady, and quite a humble young man. He must be around 27 years old, married with three kids. I can go some time without seeing him, so when I passed him on Friday, I stopped to ask him how he's doing. "Uncle, not good" was his response. He went on to tell me that his bicycle had been stolen while he had been at the hospital. Feeling sad for him, since a bike is a big deal, especially when you have to come 4 miles to work, I told him that if he saved a certain amount of money toward the bike, I'd help with the rest. He was very excited.

This past week I taught on Suffering and the Gospel, laying both foundation for suffering, the Biblical view of suffering, and practical response to suffering (of course, this topic is NEVER taught disconnected from HEART- as there was MUCH suffering represented in our classroom). I say that because it's what came next that really stunned me. On Saturday, Wandera was at my house, but with a graven face. He said, "Uncle, my baby died." My mind immediately shot back to my 30th birthday when I was greeted with similar words from a friend here. I found myself responding the same way I had then, "Was it malaria?" Only this time, it was not- he didn't know what it was. He said she was fine the day before, started getting sick in the night, and then in the morning she was jerking (I'm guessing convulsing). Half way to the hospital she died. They turned around and went back home.

Now, as he stood before me, he was asking for around $20 as a loan so that he could have a grave dug and cemented inside to bury his 3 year old little girl (his other children are 4 and 6). I asked if he was going to buy a coffin, but he said that it was too much money. Quite moved, and also fresh from the days of discussion on entering into suffering, I knelt down, held his hand and just prayed for him. As I prayed, he began to weep- which is not normal for this culture, and I could sense my Father wrapping His arms around Wandera. After I finished praying I was able to give him (not loan him) around $55 to meet the different expenses for doing a "proper" burial.

The burial was set for the next day, Sunday, at 2 sharp. Church, which began at 10:30, ran a bit later than usual and we were out at 1:15. I scarfed down some food and heading over to the Institute where my car was packed out with people going with me to the burial. Since burials are about the only thing that even remotely begin on time, I hightailed it out to the village and we arrived at Wandera's mud house just after 2pm. Of course, the last leg of the journey found the road becoming a path, so I pulled my car into someone's house and got permission to leave it there as we walked the path to Wandera's.

As is customary, upon arrival, we all packed into the four room house. The women were all sitting on mats around the "living room". The wailing came and went in waves. The center piece of the room was a small mattress and lying on the mattress, dressed in a cute blue dress, was the little girl. She was beautiful. I immediately thought of my little Noah (3 years old) and what it would be like to lose him so suddenly. We stood around for a few minutes before exiting the house. The body was then placed in the small wooden coffin and carried to the place of burial.

Wandera is Catholic, and I had never been to a Catholic burial before, so I did not know what to expect. The crowd of gathered villagers all moved to the site (around 100 men and women), and the singing began. One song said, "We are grieving, Holy Mother pray for us". The priest was there and conducted the ceremony, which consisted of his reading and people's responses intertwined with songs. At one point I asked one of my friends with me what he was saying and he responded, "That God has killed this baby. And that they had all better be ready because they don't know when their time will come." Regardless of what your view is of God's sovereignty over death (which I agree with), those are NOT words of comfort to be spoken in the midst of such fresh loss, nor are they the best motivators for someone to truly turn to God. Of course, we had just been talking about this in the Institute!

After the coffin was placed inside the ground and the cement was mixed (and boy did I get hit with a good splash of cement, right on the shirt and pants- of course there was an obvious sound of disapproval from those around), a cross was placed into the wet cement. As everyone turned to "jet" away (remember, the cultural belief is that if you are the last one to leave, the spirit of the deceased might attach itself to you), I spotted Wandera walking back by himself. I went up and put my arm around him, walking back with him. As we talked, he was still stunned at how suddenly the girl had died.

It was only after that conversation that I found out that when his bike was stolen from the hospital, he was there with his niece- who had been abandoned to his house by the father. She died a few days later. So first the bike, then the death of the niece, and now the death of his little girl quite suddenly. Without saying it, I knew what he was thinking- witchcraft. You see, here, nothing just "happens". Everything has a cause, and something like this was sure pointing to the fact that someone is against him.

I wish I had a happy ending to the story. I don't. I gave him the week off of work to just be with his family, and on Wednesday two of our students (both Ugandan) are going to his house to try to bring him REAL comfort, that which only comes through the Gospel and the hope found therein. Please pray for Wandera and for others here who are bound in fear to Satan and witchcraft. Pray that he may come to know the One who took the curse for him and who alone can set him free from fear of death and Satan. Just a tidbit from the "other side" of life and ministry here. And just so you know, as a class we are planning to buy him a bike.

Your Heavenly Father Feeds Them...

A few weeks ago I was up just before sunrise. The power was on, which meant that I was able to make coffee for an extra early morning treat! I opened the shutters next to our table so that I could watch the sun rise as I spent time with my Heavenly Father. I was reading in the Sermon on the Mount, and interestingly, as I read I kept hearing "flapping" just outside of the window. As I looked up watchfully, sure enough, a multitude of birds were swooping down from the trees all around where they were perched, watching. I was further amazed as I rose and walked to the window, beholding the object of the birds excitement: white ants.

It's an amazing site to behold on the day that the white ants come up from the ground in droves. These are ants with wings, sent out to begin new colonies, but in our Father's great wisdom they are also sent out as dessert for the birds. As the ants leave their holes, they fly in every direction, thus making quite a fun sport for the birds! It was awesome to watch one ant flying through the air, tracking him with my eyes, and then suddenly...GONE! Man can birds hunt!

As I turned my thoughts to Matthew 6, I knew I was watching a living example of my Father's incredible provision for the birds- and of course, I had to ask myself, "Am I not of more value then they are?" It was at that moment that my smile turned into utter laughter. Just to the right of where I was watching the birds feasting on white ants, there was one of the young children from Jonathan Family (the family group just below our house), grabbing the ants out of the air and popping them into his mouth! Yes, my Father not only feeds the birds, but He feeds His children as well!

Actually, when the white ants come out, it is feasting time for almost everyone. Once I sat on the ground to help some old women who were piling the ants still on the ground into baskets for later eating. And actually, they aren't too bad. I mean, they are not my first choice for flavor, but they're not bad- well, if you take the wings off before you pop them into your mouth! Or you can roast them and add some salt. Either way, "Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all (food, clothing, etc.). But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." Yes, even white ants.

The Relatives are Here to STAY!

When I was growing up, I loved going to visit our relatives. Whether heading to Ohio or Florida, I always looked forward to the trip, to sleeping on cots, to just being with family. Of course, after about a week, everyone’s ready for the time to come to an end. We were always ready to get back to our own house, and I’m sure our relatives were ready to get rid of us!

Here in Uganda things work quite a bit differently. When relatives come for a visit, there is often no planning for the event. One day you come home to find the house full of people, often up to ten or more relatives, depending on the number of children brought along for the “visit.” They are simply “there” with no plan as to when they’ll be going, and of course, it would be rude to ask. Your job is to provide food, medical care, and whatever else might be needed during the stay. Sleeping arrangements are quite interesting, since most houses typically consist of one or two (at the most!) bedrooms, a sitting room, and then an outside kitchen. I’m not quite sure how people sleep, though I would assume quite a few sleep on mats on the floor. Of course, most visits do eventually come to an end, and the house gets back to normal.

It was a different situation for my friend Kibeti. A few nights ago, he arrived home to find that his sister, her husband, and two kids had arrived from a long journey. Only they had not come for a visit, they had ARRIVED. Suddenly, memories of “Uncle Buck” (John Candy) come flooding back to me. I wonder how it went. “Oh, hello my sister. It’s great to see you.” “Yes my brother, we are here.” “Yes, you are here.” “Yes.” “You are welcome.” “Thank-you.” “How is there?” “There is not fine. There is no food and the water has been hard to get.” “Oh, I am sorry.” “So, we are here.” “Yes, you are here.” And so it ends. You know exactly what has been said, “We are here without plans of going back. Glad we can stay with you.”

Unfortunately for Kibeti, his other sister has already been staying with him in their two room house, along with his own wife and two children. Now it’s nine people in a house about the size of most Americans’ living room. There is one up-side to things, though. Kibeti has been adding on to his house, a third bedroom, so his sister can have her own room and so he and his wife can sleep alone! He’s been working on this project for around six months now, building slowly by slowly, ten or fifteen dollars a month going into the project. Actually, Kibeti just sold his gigantic female pig (not long ago she produced 13 piglets!) in exchange for a smaller pig and some money- just enough to finish the room so his sister could move in. It is that money that Kibeti had in his pocket (over two-month’s wage for him!) when his sister and family found him.

I asked him what he was going to do. He said, “You know, God has blessed me in that my sister found me with money in my pocket. I will find for her a room to rent and pay three months rent, and I will buy for her cooking pans, plates, cups, and a hoe and slasher so they will be able to find some jobs and earn some money.” He wasn’t complaining, though now I’m not sure how long it will be for him to finally finish that room. The words of I Timothy 5:8 hit me hard, “If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” Talk about the need for living out the Gospel! In the West, we have little idea what this verse really means or how to live it out. What would you have done in Kibeti’s place? How can you live out this verse in your own context?

Celebrating 20 Years of Family!

Godfrey stepped off the taxi and began walking up the familiar drive that leads into New Hope Uganda’s Kasana Children’s Center. A smile lit up his face as he beheld the giant “Welcome Home” banner that stretched over the road just before the gate leading into New Hope. Uncle Tony, Godfrey’s former principal and a Senior Leader at New Hope, rose quickly from the welcome station and hurried to meet Godfrey, embracing him with a warm hug. Godfrey was home.

Godfrey is a son of New Hope. He has been in and out of the family over the past few years for many different reasons, the latest being continual drug use. He has been living in Kampala at a Christian run drug rehabilitation center and has been doing wonderfully, most clearly seen in his renewed heart for God that previously had only been seen in short flashes. Godfrey, along with a few hundred of his brothers and sisters who also grew up at New Hope, returned home to celebrate 20 years of New Hope family. The weekend celebration rejoined and rekindled relationships of all sorts including many who had not seen each other in more than 10 years! And how exciting to find many of those who have been sons and daughters of New Hope coming with their sons and daughters, grandkids of the ministry!

It was exciting to hear the testimonies of those who have been living “outside” for so many years, to hear of God’s faithfulness to all as well as His relentless pursuit of those who left New Hope in a “bad” way, to hear of the fruit that is being born through those who at one time were considered “hopeless” by their families and community, to see the reach of these men and women throughout Uganda and even into Rwanda, and to hear the sons and daughters exhorting their young “brothers and sisters” who are currently at New Hope to follow their true Father and to accept the family that they have here. Powerful.

Isaiah 60:4 came alive for all of us- in fact, Laura Beth could not read it without crying throughout the weekend! It says, "Lift up your eyes all around, and see; they all gather together, they come to you; your sons shall come from afar and your daughters shall be carried on the arm."

The weekend was also a fun time together, as Saturday was filled with foot races, sack races, races with bottles on the head, bike races, and football (soccer) matches (of course, the current kids defeated the “old boys” as well as the staff!). One of the highlights was Saturday night at the bonfire when those who had returned gave testimonies about their lives and their time at New Hope, honoring their fathers (Uncle Jay Dangers and Uncle Jonnes Bakimi) and giving Glory to God. Sunday was our day of Thanksgiving, complete with the family march around the circle with banners flying and branches waving, and then a five hour church service filled with singing, thanksgiving, and testimonies! Yes…5 hours! (and I wasn’t even tired afterwards! Yes, I’m becoming Ugandan : ). We then had a gigantic community meal for the over 1,500 people present! You should have seen the lines for the food!
Mukama Awebwe Ekitibwa (To God be the Glory)

Please continue to pray for the ministry of New Hope Uganda and for the sons and daughters that are currently here as well as those who are now grown and living out on their own. Pray that the love of the Father, the true Father of the fatherless, would melt and bind up the brokenhearted in our midst, that the Gospel would penetrate hearts, that fatherhood and motherhood would be received, that family would be established, and that God would make His Name known in Uganda through those He has entrusted to us here at New Hope. Please also pray for our next site of ministry in Kumi that will focus on children who have been recovered from the fighting in the North, those who have been abducted by Koni and the LRA and recovered from the fighting. Also pray for our coming Manhood and Womanhood camp on Lake Victoria that will be a place for discipleship and retreats for our children as well as others from around Uganda, as we are still trying to secure the land so that we can begin building there and developing the site.

7 Year Anniversary!

Today Laura Beth and I are celebrating 7 years of marriage! I had the privilege of preaching in church today out of II Samuel 7 on God's covenant with David- what sweet timing, as I was able to stand before the church and rejoice in the marriage covenant that our Father has given to us together. As I was speaking about God's "steadfast love" or His Covenant Love, I read this poem that I wrote for Laura Beth and read to her just before I proposed to her. Here it is:

The Day That I Met You…

The day that I met you, Who ever would have thought
The girl who smiled so softly, Would be the one God brought

The day that I met you, I never would have known
The dimpled girl who made be blush, Would one day be my own

And girl you are no longer, For before my very eyes
Through pain I’ve watched you blossom, To a pearl of greatest price

This pearl I greatly treasure, Handed down from up above
For the more that I’m around you, The more I learn of love

Love not from self-ambition, Nor a seeking of my own
But sacrifice and giving, Yielding all is love alone

Though my heart was cold and bitter, Sinful, hardened to the bone
Your love came in and gave me, A heart of flesh instead of stone

While all around were screaming, “You’d be a fool to let love go”
I sought the Lord, our Father, And He clearly let me know

That love is to be cherished, And treasured in the heart
That through loving you I’d love Him, And that’s the greatest part

Our love is not from us, It’s rare, a precious thing
And so to symbolize this love we share, I bought for you this ring...

And she said YES!!!

And just for fun- here are the vows that we wrote for that special day:

Keith’s: Laura, you are the one my soul delights in, and today I take you as
my wife. I covenant to make you the sole object of my affections, and to be single-mindedly devoted to you and you alone. I commit all that I am to loving you as Christ loved the church, giving Himself up for her, and I take full responsibility for seeking to present you to Him a pure bride. In this, I commit to love you above myself, serve you even when empty, and to provide you shelter and security. I covenant to remain by your side in whatever circumstance of life our Shepherd might bring, until I lay you in our Savior’s arms.

Laura’s: Keith, you are the one my soul delights in, and today I take you as
my husband. I covenant to make you the sole object of my affections, and to be single-mindedly devoted to you and you alone. I commit all that I am to submitting to you just as Jesus submitted to the Father in order to carry out His will. In this, I commit to love you above myself, serve you even when empty, and provide encouragement and bring joy to your life. I covenant to remain by your side in whatever circumstance of life our Shepherd might bring, until I lay you in our Savior’s arms.

It is true that marriage just keeps getting sweeter- but it's sweeter as the Gospel keeps meeting us in new and deeper ways!

So what do you do when you live in the BUSH of Uganda to celebrate an anniversary? Some friends of ours (the Vogt's) are cooking us dinner and then they are coming over to our house to watch the boys while we go and have a "romantic evening" at their house- dinner and a movie!

I'd love to hear any of your marriage stories- poems, vows, etc.

If you like the ring (which are the rings that we have), you can find them on: http://www.porat-jewelry.com/

Orphan Conference, Adoption, and Multi-Ethnicity (or the lack thereof)

My wife and I recently attended a conference in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida called “Hope For Orphans”. It was probably the biggest gathering of Christian men and women from various organizations and ministries that focus specifically on orphans to ever take place. Represented were people with a passion for foster care, local and foreign adoption, and international ministry to orphans. It was an amazing and refreshing time for us, as we have never been around so many people so passionate about the same things as us. It was exciting to network with others laboring in the fields of the fatherless, and it was fun to hear the same language being talked about- from the church's desperate need to recover the front lines of orphan care (both locally and globally) to the church's need for a solid understanding of spiritual adoption and what it means to be adopted sons and daughters of God. It was also fun to see so many families exemplifying the doctrine of adoption in their own families through adopting children from around the world. Just a glance around the room and one would quickly notice children from China, Ethiopia, and various ethnicities from within America. How beautiful!

Yet, even as I smiled at such beautiful diversity within various families, my heart was yet saddened by one stark reality- the room itself lacked diversity. Granted, there were a few African brothers and sisters in the room, mainly because they work with orphans in Africa, and there were a few brothers and sisters of color scattered here or there, but overall, a good 95% of the people in attendance of this Orphan Summit IV were white American. My heart could not help but feel saddened. Is this really a conference reflective of the church in America in terms of orphan care, concern, and ministry? Where are my African American brothers and sisters? Where are other established minority church groups? Are these church's simply not involved in orphan care or was the conference targeting one specififc ethnic group (white churches)? I don't have an answer to these questions(though I have some ideas), but I've been thinking about it non-stop since the conference. I am really interested in your feedback in this situation, because I think this is a sad reality on a much bigger level than simply this conference.

It also seems to me that a people so passionate about and so committed to the doctrine of adoption and its implications for the church in both life and practice (in terms of the adoption of orphans from various different ethnicities) should be just as passionate and just as committed to pursuing multi-ethnicity in both church life and ministry practice. It also seems to me that the doctrine of adoption provides a paradigm for multi-ethnic ministry (or the pursuit of unity within the ethnic diversity within the body of Christ)- something I'm working on teasing out in an article form (I'll post that when it's done). How beautiful it will be one day when families, men and women, who are passionate about the doctrine of adoption and who reflect the beauty of that doctrine in their own families, form but a small picture of the larger gathered diverse Body of believers, whether gathering to talk about ministry to orphans, or gathering to worship on Sunday morning.

I guess for now, I'd love to hear your take on these things.

Answering My Own Questions

Well, since I haven't heard much back concerning the questions I posed in my last post, I'm going to enter in and offer up my own answers. Let me know what you think.

* Are we born as “literal” children of Satan (is he our natural father?), or are we yet children of God who have rebelled against Him and therefore come under submission to Satan as our “father”?

Jesus spoke to some Jews in John 8 and told them that they are of their father the devil. The Apostle John split the world into two groups, children of God and children of Satan (I John 3:10). The question, then, is in what sense are people actually children of Satan?

First off, we are not Satan's natural children. When Paul was preaching to the Areopagus in Acts 17, he was speaking about God as the maker of the nations, nations that trace back to one man (Adam), nations that God set in place that they might seek Him. He then quoted one of their own poets saying, “'For we are indeed his offspring.' Being then God's offspring, we ought not to think that the divine being is like gold or silver... (28-29).” The implication of what Paul is saying is that though humanity is fallen, God is still the Father of all humanity! Satan is not our rightful or natural father.

Second, when Paul was speaking about our state before following Jesus, he said that we were "dead in trespasses and sins" and at the same time we were "following the prince of the power of the air (Eph. 2:1-2)" who is Satan. So, though God is the TRUE Father of humanity, because of the fall and original sin, we are each born spiritually dead, and therefore we by nature follow Satan, in the sense that we DO NOT by nature follow or submit to God. In a very real sense, Satan IS our father, but it's more of a father by choice through the rejection of our True Father God. This goes back to the failure of Adam, the first "son of God (Lk. 3:38)", and this is where the process of regeneration comes in, where God redeems, justifies, and then adopts us back into His family because of the obedience of the true Son of God, Jesus, who then becomes our brother (Heb. 2:12-13) by spiritual adoption.

* Is it wrong to use language like “orphan heart” to describe the tendencies of a wounded orphan's heart (and thus our own hearts), when it's not Biblical language per se?

I have no problem with the use of language outside of the Bible to describe concepts found within the Bible. For example, the term Trinity is not found in the Bible, but the Trinity is clearly there. In the same way, the concept of the "heart of an orphan" is there in that it is simply the sinful, human heart, but it describes those sinful tendencies that tend to be more specifically at work in the heart and life of an orphan because of the trauma they have faced in life. Though spiritual orphans are never talked about, either, it is assumed within the usage of the term adoption within the writings of Paul, since it is both slaves and orphans that need adopted.

* Why do people have such a hard time applying the Gospel outside the context of “sin”, in terms of the ongoing healing of the heart (psychology term?) through the wounds that we have received from others?

I think most of this goes back to the Reformation and the emphasis that we have had over the last three hundred years on the doctrine of justification (a much needed emphasis by the way!). As a result, the Gospel has been clearly defined, but it has been applied simply in terms of salvation of sins at the cost of understanding the death of Jesus in the defeat of death and Satan. In Uganda this has led to a division of the Gospel into two Gospels, one of salvation and one of deliverance (from Satan/demons). In the same way, here in the West, we have proclaimed our need for the Gospel in terms of salvation from sin, but have failed to present our ongoing need for the Gospel in all areas of life- even where we have been sinned against by others.

* Why does the Christian church throw up flags when emphasis is made on God as Father and our need to relate to Him on the level of “Daddy”?

This one is sort of the "hum dinger" of the questions, since history and the feminist movement come into play with the answer. Without going into those things, I will simply say that Jesus clearly revealed the Fatherhood of God and the access we are granted in terms of the "Abba" cry of Jesus. Most of us naturally relate to God as the King that we have offended, but because of Jesus we are pardoned by Him (again, going back to the emphasis on justification). The result is often a life lived relating to God as a slave or servant, and the fruit is a much easier job relating to Jesus (lover, friend) then to God as Father. The breakdown in fatherhood in our culture also adds to this inability to relate to God in terms of Fatherhood and sonship. Many translations are moving towards the neutral God (Father/Mother) which affirms the cultural outcries against a masculine God and creates more alarm when God is spoken of as He has revealed Himself (as Father).

What do you think?