<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:53:49.415-05:00</updated><category term='Life'/><category term='Missions'/><category term='hunger'/><category term='Uganda'/><category term='Ugandan Hospital'/><category term='Home'/><category term='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/TJ-QcbSDUaI/AAAAAAAAGHs/K71rtE99dmI/s1600/mother+Jenny+2.JPGMedicine'/><category term='Medicine'/><category term='Animals'/><category term='Travels'/><title type='text'>Stepping out in Faith</title><subtitle type='html'>Traveling to a country and people I love by the grace of God alone.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07072014353353403533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/15/5578/320/CIMG2492.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-6227552400358043085</id><published>2010-10-21T11:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-26T13:04:26.168-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uganda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Missions'/><title type='text'>The setting sun..</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I am sitting in the house listening to the gates clank as the watchmen come to work, and watching a brilliant display of colors as the sun sets for the day. How ordinary, yet extraordinary at the same time?! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I have been here in this place for about 15 months, and the day of my return home for a visit is rapidly approaching. In looking back on the past year, I am so amazed! I see the joys, the challenges, the sorrows, the excitement, the ordinary, the extraordinary, and I wonder how I am supposed to capture all of it and carry it with me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;There is an expected and unexpected component to everyday. For example, I wake up in the morning. That is expected :) I walk to the clinic and see people bathing in the "river". That is expected. I hear gunshots in the night. That is an expected yet unexpected component. You see the cattle are a valuable and coveted commodity, and so it is common to have cattle raids as one tribe attempts to take another tribe's cattle. Our area has been disarmed for the most part, but there is a military presence and there are still some few guns around. When a raid is caught in process, you can almost guarantee gunshots. I go to the clinic Monday through Friday. That is expected. I see wounds that astonish me. That is unexpected. I hear crickets chirping in the night air. That is expected. It rains. That is expected. It doesn't rain. That is unexpected (these days anyhow, soon the dry season will come and rain will be the unexpected component).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;How do I capture the life I live? How to I bottle up the last 15 months and carry them home? How do I bottle up the coming two months and bring them back here? How to I live in two worlds that sometimes align and sometimes collide? How do I feel so at home in two very different places? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I don't have answers to all these questions, but one thing I know. I serve a loving God who will carry me through, and these feelings of belonging yet not belonging only make me all the more eager for my heavenly home. I am truly not a citizen of this world. I am a citizen of Heaven!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-6227552400358043085?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/6227552400358043085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=6227552400358043085&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/6227552400358043085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/6227552400358043085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2010/10/setting-sun.html' title='The setting sun..'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-1777221588356582851</id><published>2010-09-16T07:50:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T14:30:45.096-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/TJ-QcbSDUaI/AAAAAAAAGHs/K71rtE99dmI/s1600/mother+Jenny+2.JPGMedicine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uganda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ugandan Hospital'/><title type='text'>A chance to fix broken smiles...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This experience occurred a few weeks ago, and I am just now taking time to write about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was time for my second rotation at the hospital, and I wasn't sure what to expect. Students who had been on the medical ward with me warned me that the nurse in charge was strict, but I wasn't convinced that was a bad thing. Nonetheless, I walked in to the surgical ward with mixed feelings. I wasn't sure what to expect. As I walked into the ward my heart sank. This ward already felt worse than the medical ward. The paint on the building was peeling and chipping. The doors were so warped they didn't even close. It felt dark, dreary and dismal as I walked inside. "Lord, give me grace," I prayed. I went in search of the nurses' office, and found it unattended. I looked through the wards and found a nurse who told me to sit in the office and wait for the nurse in charge to arrive. A few minutes later the nurse in charge appeared, and I introduced myself. She told me that she needed to go greet some visitors, but that I should come with her. These visitors were doctors and nurses from other parts of Uganda who had come to do a surgical camp at the hospital. Their mission: to fix broken smiles. They were here to do cleft lip and palate repairs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I greeted the doctors and nurses, and in the process got an invitation to join them for the week! I was astounded! A week in the operating theatre?! I had been praying for God to give me grace for this new experience, but I had no idea that He was going to give me a completely unexpected experience. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The operating theatre resembled an operating room in the USA, but so different. They strive for sterility, but probably really only accomplish cleanliness. I must say, this cleanliness is a huge improvement over the state of the rest of the hospital though. Thankfully, they do put the patients on antibiotics following surgery so hopefully that helps to cut down on post-op infections. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is a break down of things that remind me of the USA:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Large, bright operating lights&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Adjustable operating tables&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sterile gloves &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Masks and hair nets&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The smell: a clean, sterile smell&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Things I've never seen in an OR in the USA:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Flies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The use of normal saline to prep the skin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cloth drapes &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reusing IV fluids with new IV tubing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh I am sure there are more, but memories are fading and I can't remember it all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What an experience! It was so cool to see them work, to assist them, and to just experience an OR in Uganda from a "non-patient" perspective. I'd do it again, and the Doctors said they'd call me next time they're through to come assist! We'll see :) An added bonus: I got tea (soda and chapati) and lunch everyday for free! Incredible! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/TJ-QcbSDUaI/AAAAAAAAGHs/K71rtE99dmI/s1600/mother+Jenny+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/TJ-QcbSDUaI/AAAAAAAAGHs/K71rtE99dmI/s320/mother+Jenny+2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521290486213726626" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-1777221588356582851?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1777221588356582851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=1777221588356582851&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1777221588356582851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1777221588356582851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2010/09/chance-to-fix-broken-smiles.html' title='A chance to fix broken smiles...'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/TJ-QcbSDUaI/AAAAAAAAGHs/K71rtE99dmI/s72-c/mother+Jenny+2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-7270979744717717338</id><published>2010-08-23T11:57:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T12:05:58.558-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medicine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uganda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Missions'/><title type='text'>Imagine this...</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Imagine a hospital where the electricity was not dependable. You may expect that hospitals always have power, but not here. Power is an occasional perk. So how does a hospital operate without power? Well, there are no computers to chart treatment on, there are no IV pumps to regulate IV medications, there are no TV’s to entertain the patients, there are luxury hospital beds that adjust at the touch of a button, and there are no alarms to sound to call for your nurse. In fact the most common use for the unpredictable power source is lighting or charging for phones. There isn’t much else in this hospital that uses power on a regular basis. Can you imagine such a place?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Imagine a hospital where there is only one wing out of the several wards in the hospital that offers semi-private rooms. These semi-private rooms are only for those who can afford to pay for their care. Can you imagine privacy being a luxury not a right? The rest of the patients stay in the wards. The wards are divided into a female side and a male side that are separated by a hallway where the nurses’ station or “duty room”, staff toilets, doctors’ room, and an exam room are located. There are 36 beds on each side, and there are several times throughout the week where patients are lying on mats on the floor waiting for a bed. The ward is wide open with little half walls dividing it into sixths. So if you become sick while you are in this place, and you are going to be a patient at this hospital there are a few things you should know. Make sure to bring your attendant (family member) with you to care for you. Also, make sure they bring a mat to sleep on, sheets for you, and money to provide for all your needs. Prepare to lose your dignity, as people are always around, and the privacy screens (for changing clothes or relieving yourself) are few and in high demand.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;        &lt;/span&gt;Imagine a hospital that has very few drugs and supplies. The medicine cart consists of a metal tray on wheels with about 5 or 10 different injectable medications, 8 tins of tablets that may or may not be full, a handful of giving sets, and a few pairs of gloves. If you, the patient, need anything that is not on the cart you must send your attendant to town to buy what you need. You have to buy everything from IV canulas, IV medications, syringes, needles, or anything else you can think of that you might need. Oh, and yes don’t worry these things are available in the local drug stores for anyone to buy. No license needed. No ID needed. No prescription needed.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Can you imagine a hospital like this?! I don’t know if I could have before I came here, but today I get an inside look at this very hospital. An inside look for two months. Oh the adventures we’ll have. Two weeks down. Six weeks to go.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-7270979744717717338?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/7270979744717717338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=7270979744717717338&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/7270979744717717338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/7270979744717717338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2010/08/imagine-this.html' title='Imagine this...'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-4333310995195670293</id><published>2010-07-26T10:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T10:37:17.436-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rice to the rescue</title><content type='html'>So... this past week hasn't been my shining moment that's for sure. I have my fair share of clutzy moments, and a couple of those clutzy moments involve electronics and water. Last time I checked, you are NOT supposed to mix those two. Apparently I forgot that fact of life. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Incident #1: I was heading to the bathroom, pulled down my gauchos and heard a caplunk. Ipod in toilet! Ahhh. (Clean toilet, don't worry.) Grab Ipod out, take off case, shake, shake, shake... pray it still works. Shake head at self while trying to dry out Ipod. Finish using the toilet. Inspect Ipod closer, and discover ... IT WORKS! Phew. Apparently that case is good for more than I realized. Water damage, nil! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Incident #2: Cooking in the kitchen with Leah. Chatting it up. Kitchen is a bit of a dead zone for cell reception, so I propped my phone in the window. Normal, but chose a bad window this time. You know, the window over the sink... full of water. Go on with dinner prep, phone rings and vibrates itself off the window! CaPLUNK. It fell directly into the soapy water. Not good. Disassemble phone. Shake. Shake. Shake. Remember that rice withdraws moisture. Prepare cup of rice, and "immerse" phone in rice. Leave overnight. VICTORY! Phone works once again! Phew. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Moral of the story: Beware of water when using electronic devices, and if you find your electronics encountering water... try rice. It works! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh and try not to be a clutz like me ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-4333310995195670293?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/4333310995195670293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=4333310995195670293&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/4333310995195670293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/4333310995195670293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2010/07/rice-to-rescue.html' title='Rice to the rescue'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-3355423727148290895</id><published>2010-07-26T09:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T10:23:12.520-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uganda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Missions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>When I wake...</title><content type='html'>I do not expect to hear people shouting outside my banda. It's true. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning, however, I awoke to the unexpected: the watchmen shouting, the dogs running, and quite the ruckus being raised just outside my banda. It was a full moon, so there was some dim lighting in the banda. I saw shadows moving outside, and I heard the noise punctuated with horrific shrieking sounds. Wide awake and curious, I lay in my bed wondering what kind of animal had invaded our compound. I heard the animal shriek, and one of the dogs shriek in response. A few moments later, the noises drifted away, and the shrieking stopped. Heather and I were wide awake now, but there was no what to do. It was 2:30 in the morning, and our watchmen had done their job. We would have to wait a few more hours until morning to find out what had happened. Heather and I speculated about what it could have been, and then eventually fell back to sleep. Our alarms woke us to a much quieter tone and more peaceful environment. Unfortunately it was raining outside, and our poor Ugandan blood was far to cold to get out from under the covers. We finally worked up the courage, got dressed, and headed to the house for breakfast. The watchman came running towards us, and we both wondered "Oh no, did something go terribly wrong in the hunt last night?" We greeted him, and asked if everything was ok. "Yes" He replied, "Everything is fine. Can you assist me with some few matches?" We agreed and asked what they had found last night. "We killed a wild animal." "What wild animal?" I asked. "A wild animal. The enemy of the chickens" He replied. We got the matches, and followed him towards the outdoor kitchen. They drug out the kill for us to see: A badger. We were all happy. The badger had been stopped in his crime: Attacking the chickens. The watchmen had an unexpected breakfast! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It isn't every morning you wake up like that! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-3355423727148290895?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/3355423727148290895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=3355423727148290895&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/3355423727148290895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/3355423727148290895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2010/07/when-i-wake.html' title='When I wake...'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-8516992339336138488</id><published>2010-07-04T15:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T15:25:18.764-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It is Finished</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;Christ came to earth. He stooped to our level from the heavenly places, and lived among us. He humbled Himself. He faced temptations. He faced rejection. He suffered. He lived among us and was without sin so that He could be the spotless lamb, the perfect sacrifice for sin. The promises of the ages were fulfilled in Christ. He really lived and He really died.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He hung on the cross, he bled, and he died in my place. He was the final sacrifice. In Him “It is finished.” He defeated sin, and He redeemed His people. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I was sitting in worship this morning hearing how my savior lived, died and rose again to bring me into fellowship with the Father. That day on the cross He put my sin to death. God looks on me and sees perfect righteousness, and that is not of my own. Yesterday I struggled with sin. Today I struggle with sin. Tomorrow I will struggle with sin. The beauty of the redemption of Christ is that all of my sins are covered. Does this give me an excuse to live in sin? May it never be (as Paul the apostle says)! It gives me peace and assurance. It lets me rest in the hope that I am safe in Christ. No one can snatch me out of the Father’s hand. He has redeemed every aspect of my life. Lord, let me be more like you day by day!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;What a blessing! Praise be to God!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-8516992339336138488?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/8516992339336138488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=8516992339336138488&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/8516992339336138488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/8516992339336138488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2010/07/it-is-finished.html' title='It is Finished'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-2647968274991720709</id><published>2010-07-04T15:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T15:22:54.517-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner Party... Karimojong style</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The doctor has moved into his new house and the staffs (yes I said staffs…. that is what you say here in Uganda) were eagerly waiting to see his new place.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was decided after much discussion to have dinner together on Thursday night. The menu was planned with care, the cost was determined, the food was bought, and finally the day arrived. The staffs agreed to prepare the food, and the medical students eagerly awaited the adventure of preparing a traditional meal.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;We finished up with work at the clinic by three, and the preparations began. Seeing how our main dish was still alive… we probably should have gotten an early start, but there was no what to do now.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So we began with the main dish: the goat. This meal preparation was not for the weak of heart or the squeamish (or the vegetarians or the animal lovers, sorry).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We recruited our mighty watchman and watched as he expertly slit the goat’s throat, drained the blood and then went directly at the task of skinning the animal. I decided to be a vegetarian for the evening. I don’t mind assisting in the meal preparation, but I have yet to be able to eat meat that I helped prepare in this fashion. Finally we got started on the other aspects of the meal: frying the beans, frying the greens, mixing chapatti dough, frying chapatti’s, etc. I lent my hand and made the chapatti dough, and was told that I am well on my way to becoming a “senior” (aka a pro). There was a general buzz of activity and the food was well its way. We had to shuffle pots a bit to fit all the food, but all in all it worked out. Several hours later as my eyelids were turning to lead, they declared that the food was ready. However, they themselves were not ready. Thirty minutes later everyone is bathed and dressed smart except for me &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type: symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I am still in my work clothes and have chapatti all over my shirt. Ahh well, what to do?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We load up the food and the people into the vehicle and proceed to Doctor’s house. I am warned to drive carefully and not hit the bumps so as to not spill the food. I just laugh. If you have driven on our roads you know it is impossible to not hit the bumps even on the less than 1-kilometer stretch between the clinic and Doctor’s house.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;Arriving at Doctor’s house we carry the food in, arrange ourselves and get the party started. Here in Uganda it the custom to wash your guests hands before the meal, but seeing how we have running water we asked them all to use the bathroom and wash their hands. The other custom is for the hosts to serve food to the guests, so Jim and I got to work dishing up the food. We piled rice, meat, beans, greens, and chapatti on everyone’s plate. The plates were overflowing with food! It was so fun to fill their plates, and watch them come back for more. The most impressive eaters were Lotee and Lomuria. They are our slashers&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(grounds crew) and they speak almost no English. Although we did discover Lomuria’s new phrase is “It’s ok” which he said about 20 times throughout the night. &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria;mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Anyway, back to their eating abilities, WOW! Those guys can pack it away!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Of course they “couldn’t” serve themselves so I would sit down to start eating, and one of them would come back for more. I think they must have filled their plates four or five times! They promised they would have plenty of strength for slashing the next day! ;)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;We were finishing dinner, and enjoying one another’s company when Leah and I looked at each other aghast as we realized we were getting front row auditory privileges we didn’t want. You see we thought people were just going to wash their hands in the bathroom again, but no they were relieving themselves and somehow did not realize it would be proper etiquette to close the door. Oh my. Note to self: Teach our friends to close the door behind them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;All in all it was a lovely evening despite my otherwise exhausted state of being.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The doctor was welcomed to his house, and good food was enjoyed by all! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-2647968274991720709?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/2647968274991720709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=2647968274991720709&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/2647968274991720709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/2647968274991720709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2010/07/dinner-party-karimojong-style.html' title='Dinner Party... Karimojong style'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-7605119325112538079</id><published>2010-06-28T09:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T10:01:45.017-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Small encounters</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A smile breaks across his face, and he claps his hands. It is as if he has won the lottery, but it is so much better than that. I ask what it is he has read to give him such joy. He is reading the Bible, and is exclaiming with incredible joy and energy how sin is still living inside of us but through Christ we have the power to overcome! How encouraging?! The excitement he finds in reading the word of God is invigorating and inspiring.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Her laughter is infectious. I start laughing. It doesn’t matter I am around the corner in the office, and I have no idea what she is laughing about. Her laughter bounces off the walls of the clinic and lets me know it is going to be a good day.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He sees me from a distance and starts bouncing in his mother’s arms waving his little hand. His name is Akol. His arms open wide, he lets me know he wants me to hold him. I can’t hold him for long because I am on my way to the clinic, and he is on his way to the mission with his mother. Moments like this can keep me going all day long.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The tears are streaming down her face as she sits in worship. She is hearing the Word of God as if it is written only for her. She wrestles in her heart as she is convicted of sin, and as sin fights for her attention. Heartache and disappointment assault her today, but as she listens she hears that God will provide. She is singing to God in personal confession of sin and basking in the affirmation of His grace. My heart breaks as I watch her from across the church. We meet up after the end of worship, and walk home arm in arm. She shares her struggles and her joys, and we bring them before the Father of light together. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;His voice breaks as he shares the loss of a child. I feel the sting of tears as the reality hits me. A little person never got to take his first breath. Our friends will bury the lifeless form that they had eagerly anticipated these past nine months. In the end, I have to stop and recognize that God is sovereign over all. He is sovereign even over the heartache in this life.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have to stop and claim His promise that He will work all things together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;The phone rings, stops, rings again and stops again. It means someone is trying to reach him, but he or she doesn’t have enough money for the call. They dialed 2 times in a row. I laugh thinking “Wow, they must really want to talk to you.” He calls back, and the look on his face brings a rush of angst to my heart. “What is it? What happened?” I wonder. The conversation on the phone comes to an end, and I find out. Our friend is going to have her baby tonight, and we didn’t leave any supplies out for emergencies at the clinic. In addition, we are 2 hours away and can’t reach anyone on the mission to help us. We are frustrated. We are angry at ourselves. Then at some point in the midst of the panic, God reminds us that He is not surprised, and He is not unprepared. One by one things fall into place, and in the end our friends made it to the hospital, and their little boy was born safely and healthy! Praise God.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We are seated on the counter drinking tea. She shares her struggles. I share mine. We get lost in conversation and tea. Two pots of tea later we decide it is time to move on with our day. Our conversation was full: convicting, funny, and encouraging. Our day is made all the more enjoyable because we had a few hours to sit on the counter and think deep thoughts together.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;These are the moments that I cherish. These are the memories that will last. I am so thankful for a God who cares for all of our needs: emotional, spiritual, physical and even relational. &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-7605119325112538079?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/7605119325112538079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=7605119325112538079&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/7605119325112538079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/7605119325112538079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2010/06/small-encounters.html' title='Small encounters'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-3406853733783951330</id><published>2010-03-10T13:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T14:06:00.154-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Early mornings bring mini-lobsters</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;         The morning had gotten off to an early, but exciting start. Heather and I drug ourselves out of bed to talk to our missing third: our beloved sister. We had been told that between 4 and 5 am was a really good time for skype and so we decided to try it out. I know we sound crazy, but sisters are crazy and we do crazy things and it was worth it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Skype worked! We had two good 30 minute connections without getting disconnected. It was LOVELY! Who needs coffee after a boost like talking to your lovely sister (oh and her lovely friend too &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type: symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;) that you miss immensely and can’t seem to get align your schedules to match?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:Cambria;mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"&gt;        So I was going about my happy energetic morning in my dark bonda with a headlamp. The connection had gotten lousy and it was time to get ready for the day. I happened to look down by our bookcase thinking I had dropped something when I spotted it. The mini-lobster. I exclaimed some unintelligible thing, and kept going on about how big IT was. You see this it was not mini at all. It was a scorpion that happened to resemble a lobster rather than a scorpion. So my wise sister Heather advised me to kill it. I grabbed her ever ready shoe (don’t worry it was not on her foot) and smashed it. I heard juices so I figured it was probably dead. WRONG! I lifted the shoe to inspect and off he scurried RIGHT UNDER THE BOOKSHELF! I am not ok with having large stinging creatures maimed, angry and on the loose! I peer under the bookshelf and discover that it is conveniently between the wall the bookshelf and not accessible. Heather and I mull over what to do, she asked how big it was, and we came up with a second plan of attack. I donned my gum boots for added protection, and grabbed the broom for a weapon. Heather grabbed the spear (that happens to be lacking the metal parts but is still VERY pointy and deadly), and moves the bookshelf out. She spots him, exclaims over his size, and tells me to be ready to catch him if he escapes. Headlamp on, spear aimed, she thrusts it through his massive for a scorpion body. SUCCESS! She drags him out for inspection, and gives me the duty of stomping him just for good measure. Ahhhh, much better. He is much less intimidating when he is not moving! We photograph him for posterities sake, and then dispose of the body. Rest in peace Mr. Scorpion. Scorpion family take notice. We are not looking for roommates of your size and caliber. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-3406853733783951330?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/3406853733783951330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=3406853733783951330&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/3406853733783951330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/3406853733783951330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2010/03/early-mornings-bring-mini-lobsters.html' title='Early mornings bring mini-lobsters'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-8861579953629558562</id><published>2010-02-18T11:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T11:55:30.698-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I could plaster all day long</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago one of my favorite little boys came to visit me at the clinic. He is the son of one of our translators and friends, and within the past few months he has decided that I am a friend rather than an alien. His name is Losike, and my heart melts into a puddle every time he smiles at me, asks for me when he sees mzungus (white people), reaches out his arms for me to hold him. This particular day he just came to visit. I picked him up and in my limited Karimojong I told him how happy I was to see him. His face lit up with a smile, and then became very sober. He had a few wounds and wanted to make sure I noticed them. He pointed out every bit of broken skin he had, and requested plasters (band-aids). How could I resist? So we walked into the office, picked up the bag of plasters (and a sweet while we were at it), and set to work. Five plasters later he was satisfied, and his face lit up in a beautiful smile once again.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd apply plasters all day long for smiles like that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-8861579953629558562?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/8861579953629558562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=8861579953629558562&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/8861579953629558562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/8861579953629558562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-could-plaster-all-day-long.html' title='I could plaster all day long'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-2104601469643602109</id><published>2009-12-10T13:11:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T13:36:27.617-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medicine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uganda'/><title type='text'>Sovereignty  Sovereignty</title><content type='html'>The day was unpredictable, but throughout it all one thing was certain: Our God is Sovereign. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see yesterday Jim arrived back in Nakaale.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today. We needed a doctor at the clinic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had a young man who encountered a snake while biking today. This snake got tangled in his wheels causing him to fall and cut his leg quite badly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While we were looking at his leg and preparing to clean it, Adiaka ran in telling us there was a critical patient and we needed to come NOW. The mother was crying holding a limp child in her arms. We rushed the child into the office, examined to find the cause of the illness, and tried to get the story out of the frightened mother. The mother had gone to search for firewood, and when she returned she found her child lying motionless on the ground. No matter how many times and how many ways we asked the mother denied that the child had been sick at all prior to this morning. We did our best to stabilize the child, and find the source of the problem. Unfortunately none of our tests showed any abnormalities, but there was definitely something wrong. The best we can tell is that the child must have taken some toxic substance by mouth whether it be alcohol or petrol or what we will never know. We did what we could and then transported them to the district hospital for continued management. Dr. Joseph was there, consulted with us, and agreed that it was most likely some sort of poisoning. They will give the child fluids and provide watchful care tonight. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In between caring for the child and transporting them, we were able to clean, stitch and bandage the wound of the man who had the bicycle accident. He will heal *smiles*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The child is still alive, and I am praising God. I am praying that He will protect this child's life and restore health once again. I am praying for God to protect the other small children left to care for themselves while the adults go about the tasks for the day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the beginning, throughout it all, and in the end I am thankful to be a child of the God who is Sovereign. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-2104601469643602109?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/2104601469643602109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=2104601469643602109&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/2104601469643602109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/2104601469643602109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/12/sovereignty-sovereignty.html' title='Sovereignty  Sovereignty'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-1378407282747762659</id><published>2009-11-08T07:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T08:02:04.932-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The day the staff members got shot</title><content type='html'>Thursdays are the days of shots. Every week we have an immunization and antenatal day at our clinic. This week our staff members got a little bit of a surprise. They were "victims" of one of the immunizations. You see Jim found out that very few of our staff members have had tetanus immunizations since infancy. As health care workers, their risk of encountering tetanus is increased, and Jim decided it was in everyones best interest to be immunized. You would have thought he asked them to take a bullet in the arm rather than an injection from a small needle. The reactions varied, but NO ONE was excited to receive a shot in the arm. One by one they faced their fate, and were shot, twice, simultaneously. One shot from a needle, and the second shot from a camera. You see these momentous occasions must be documented. Some took it like champs with hardly a flinch, and others... well.... others reacted :) &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So you see our staff members were shot this week, and I don't think they will every look at Thursdays the same. Don't worry... we gave them sweets when all was said and done. Sweets everything better whether you are 3 or 33. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-1378407282747762659?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1378407282747762659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=1378407282747762659&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1378407282747762659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1378407282747762659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-staff-members-got-shot.html' title='The day the staff members got shot'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-5854282944446281161</id><published>2009-11-03T10:27:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T23:14:23.293-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hunger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uganda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Missions'/><title type='text'>Lopeyok</title><content type='html'>When I first met Toto Lopeyok (Momma of Lopeyok) and Lopeyok I never would have guessed that they would be a source of joy and encouragement every week. In fact, my first reaction to these two was quite different. I was angry. Angry that a mother could find a few hundred shillings more important than the life of her son. Angry that her hungry stomach was more important to her than her son's empty stomach. I was grieved that this poor two year old was fighting for life, and his mother wasn't helping him. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see this Momma showed up with her son one Tuesday wanting to have him admitted to our malnutrition program. He definitely qualified for the program with a MUAC (middle upper arm circumference) around 10 cm, and his height to weight ratio over -3 standard deviations from normal. The looked ill. He was listless, dehydrated and too weak to even sit on his own let alone walk. His tiny limbs were completely unable to support his large belly distended with hunger. Despite the fact that they qualified for the program, and it broke my heart to look at him so sick from hunger we had to call the director of the program to see if we should admit them. Why? This mother and child had been a part of another clinic's program, and the child was not improving because the mother was not giving the plumpinut properly (either selling or eating it herself). As a result she was chased from the program (or discharged is how you say it I guess). The director said to give her another chance, but to warn her that the child MUST improve or she would be discharged once again with no more chances. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every Tuesday they come to the clinic. For the first few weeks, Lopeyok was sick. One week he had severe pneumonia and was struggling to breath. One week he was dehydrated from a stomach flu. One week he was sick with malaria.  And then one week he arrived looking alert, active, and healthy. His belly was still disproportionate to his body, but his arms and legs were getting bigger. He even managed to walk while holding on to his mother's fingers! The weights plotted on his chart keep going up and up! He is still a good couple of kilos away from the target weight, but he is improving. His mother is grateful! Now that probably has a lot to do with the fact that I gave Lopeyok a blanket when he had pneumonia, but still... she greets me every week with a huge smile on her face, and Lopeyok is right there with her smiling at me and shaking my hand when she tells him to greet. That precious smile melts my heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I keep on keeping on with this malnutrition program, and I think of Lopeyok and his mother every time we have to discharge another child as non-respondent to treatment. Every non-responder breaks my heart, but I pray that they will return with renewed vigor to follow the treatment plan like Lopeyok and his mother. I pray that God will protect the little babies with their bellies full of hunger. I pray that our clinic and malnutrition program will show them the One who gives food that satisfies eternally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-5854282944446281161?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/5854282944446281161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=5854282944446281161&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/5854282944446281161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/5854282944446281161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/11/lopeyok.html' title='Lopeyok'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-7183135450846398458</id><published>2009-11-03T10:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T10:27:32.084-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shoe polish anyone?</title><content type='html'>So there are days that I wish I had the power to change my skin color. You see my skin color alone makes me stand out in this place, but sticking out isn't the big issue. It is the fact that because I am white I must be made out of tum-tums (candy) and money. Although it sounds like a lot of fun to just give away all the candy and money I can, it is not helpful. Sure it might make their day today, but did I really solve the problem of hunger? Did I really solve the problem of not having money today? More importantly, how did I help their heart? If I had all the money in the world, and could solve physical hunger, would it matter? Friends, each one of us needs to seek the living water. The water that satisfies. The water that lasts forever. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot change my skin color. I cannot give candy or even food to everyone I meet on the road, but there is something I can do. I can pray to the King of Kings to redeem these people and satisfy them with the living water. I can share Him with those I meet on the road. That is what it is really about. It is not about me feeling harassed for assistance because of my skin color. It is not about me. It is about Him. In that knowledge, I can carry on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-7183135450846398458?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/7183135450846398458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=7183135450846398458&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/7183135450846398458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/7183135450846398458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/11/shoe-polish-anyone.html' title='Shoe polish anyone?'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-3855974460473380028</id><published>2009-10-06T13:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T14:32:15.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Th day the dogs, goats and a snake came to church...</title><content type='html'>Church here in Nakaale is a little different than my experiences back home. Okay so a lot different *smiles* We have a shelter with a tin roof, concrete floor and concrete benches for a church "building". It looks something like a picnic shelter. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This past Sunday was a prime example of the differences. There was a pretty good crowd by time the service started, but people just kept on coming. Men, women, children, and even some animals joined us. One of the mission's dogs had managed to evade the cage that morning, and found her way to church. It usually isn't a problem until another village dog comes to church and there is a need to defend the territory. Unfortunately a few village dogs came to church as well, but the dog squabbles were kept to a minimum as well as the distractions. The children come and go as they gather little berries for a snack or get distracted by a friend. There are a couple of adults in the church who are good about maintaining order among the children, but if they are absent the pastor's have been known to stop the sermon and remind the children to quiet their mouths. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We begin worship with prayer and then sing a few songs. The songs are in Karamojong. The singing is accompanied by the beating of our hands (clapping), the beating of the tambourine and the beating of the drum. Most of the songs are arranged in such a way that a leader sings a line and then the congregation repeats the line or a chorus of some sort. After singing, we quiet our hearts and then listen to the pastor's preach. Like I mentioned before there can be distractions, but after a while you tune out the children's chatter or the dog squabbles. However there is an interruption large enough to stop the sermon: a snake. This past Sunday there was a snake that was slithering just under one of the girl's feet! Thankfully she noticed it, got up and moved out of striking distance. The snake was maybe a foot long, but it still posed a threat. The pastor stopped preaching as people moved to see the snake, and Bob stepped up to solve the problem. He stomped the snake, smashed it's head and threw it into the fields with a stick. Crisis averted, people settle back into their seats, and the sermon continued. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friend's how many pastors do you know back home who could pick up right where they left off and finish of the sermon with gusto? I was impressed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The goats came to visit for Sunday school. When I say came to visit, I mean coming right up next to Pastor Albert and bleating (or whatever noise it is they make) right in our faces. I don't know how much experience you have had with goats, but they can be load and very disruptive. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So ... there is a glimpse of our Sunday morning worship, and I am grateful we don't have dogs, goats and snakes at church EVERY week :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-3855974460473380028?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/3855974460473380028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=3855974460473380028&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/3855974460473380028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/3855974460473380028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/10/th-day-dogs-goats-and-snake-came-to.html' title='Th day the dogs, goats and a snake came to church...'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-1512473041820098535</id><published>2009-09-19T02:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T02:10:33.447-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Running</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;          Devotions had just finished and people were getting set up for the day. I was in the pharmacy checking to see what medications were needed for dispensing today when someone said “Doctor, I think there is an emergency.” I glanced out the door and there was a man running through the gate carrying a child. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;There was a flurry of activity as they were directed back to the section where we start IV’s and told to lay the child down on the table. Everyone gathered around to watch as Dr. Jim asked the translators to figure out what had happened, Rachel worked on starting an IV, Moses obtained blood for a malaria smear, and Mark got the child’s temperature. Apparently the child had begun convulsing this morning, so they brought her straight to the clinic. She was seizing, so Jim got some anti-seizure medication and gave some while others were doing their tasks. I stood back taking it all in and trying to figure out if I could help. The child was hypothermic so I decided to run to the ward and get a blanket to get the child warmed up. I returned a few minutes later with a blanket and hat to warm the child. The child was very sick: she continued to seize despite the medication, her lungs gave a picture of pulmonary edema or aspiration, and her body was limp aside from the clonic or tense part of the seizures. I was afraid the outcome would not be good, but remembered that we serve the God who heals so I began to pray for this one. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;By the grace of God and the wisdom of the doctor, the child began to regain her body temperature, the seizing stopped, the breathing cleared, and the child slept. Within 4 or 5 hours the child was awake, agitated by the IV and talking with her parents.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I returned from lunch I met the family walking down the road with a child who looked completely different than the one who had been carried through the gate just a few hours earlier. Kire Ejok Akuj. Surely God is good!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-1512473041820098535?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1512473041820098535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=1512473041820098535&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1512473041820098535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1512473041820098535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/09/running.html' title='Running'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-7204385147385220116</id><published>2009-09-11T09:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T09:38:40.401-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ipei, Ngarei, Nguni…</title><content type='html'>Today was a slow day at the clinic. Dr. Jim and Nurse Albert went to Nakapiripirit to attend a meeting regarding the malnutrition program we are doing. “Those ones of concern” is the name of the organization sponsoring it, and they had called for a meeting to discuss how the program was going. I stayed behind with the rest of the staff and we saw maybe 25 patients today. I spent the day observing different staff members do their job, unlocking the pharmacy store for more supplies, and just talking with the staff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        The best part of the day though was when Lokwii and JB decided give me my first Karamojong lesson. It started with counting from 1 to 10. Ipei, Ngarei, Nguni, Ngomwon, Ngkan, Ngkanikapei, Ngkanikarei, Ngkanikauni, Ngkanikomwon, Ngtomon. We laughed and laughed as I tried to train my tongue to say these “simple” words that were so challenging to me. I “learned” to count to 20 today, how to ask “Where are you going?”,  how to respond when someone asks where I am going, and word like my friend, my brother, my sister, my mother, my father. I think we will have to review this simple lesson several times before my tongue will be used to it. ☺ They had fun, promised to spend any more free time teaching me, and told me it was ok to learn slowly slowly. So here is to the adventure of learning Karamojong. Wadu wadu. Slowly slowly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-7204385147385220116?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/7204385147385220116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=7204385147385220116&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/7204385147385220116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/7204385147385220116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/09/ipei-ngarei-nguni.html' title='Ipei, Ngarei, Nguni…'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-5125859940608596387</id><published>2009-09-11T09:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T09:34:02.350-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Walk</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I walk out of my house and slide the latch on the door into place with a clank. It is 7:40 and I am heading to the clinic for the day. The night watchmen have left, and the compound is relatively quiet as I head for the gate. I open the section of the gate that is for people walking, and pass through being sure to pull it closed behind me. I continue down the lane and see ladies walking down the road with bags of sorghum on their heads. As I reach the road, I am greeted by two schoolgirls who saw the Mzungu (white person) coming and decided to wait and walk with her. I can greet in the local language, Karamojong, but that is about it. Unfortunately I haven’t learned how to say I don’t understand or I only speak a little so they continue to try and ask me questions as we walk down the road together and dodge piles of poop left by the goats or cows. As we walk on I catch the phrase, “What is your name?” and tell them my name is Jenny. They laugh and try to say it. I don’t understand what they are asking me, but through broken English they finally ask “Where are you going?” I point down the road and tell them “I am going to the Clinic.” They reply to my inquiry of where they are going by saying, “School. Alamacar.” They then begin to point at my bag and grab at it, and ask what I can give to them. They ask for my water. They ask for my pencil. They ask for my book. All their requests are met with the response, “Mam” which is “No” in Karamojong. At this point, we meet others walking down the road and greet them. I meet the old man Peter and greet him, I meet Lucy and greet her. She asks me in Karamojong why I have not washed my outfit yet. She is the one who washes our clothes, and she knows this one has not been washed since I wore it last. Oops &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I missed getting it out in time for her to wash yesterday because she came earlier than usual. Oh well. Tomorrow it will be washed.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;By this time we are at the crossroads and I part ways with the schoolgirls and head to the clinic.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;This is a typical walk and I usually do it four times a day. I go down in the morning for work, back and forth for lunch break, and then back home again at the end of the day. It is frustrating to not be able to communicate, and hard to always be asked for things. If it would help them, I would give them my belongings, but that would really just hurt them. So in my walks I resolve to learn the language to the best of my ability so I can communicate with these ones and give them one thing that won’t hinder them from being responsible: my conversation, my time, my friendship.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-5125859940608596387?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/5125859940608596387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=5125859940608596387&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/5125859940608596387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/5125859940608596387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/09/walk.html' title='A Walk'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-1116875099344908394</id><published>2009-09-05T07:29:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T10:37:30.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bonda</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/SqJQbZyjUkI/AAAAAAAAGFI/G3UqKuk7Imk/s1600-h/IMG_0645.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/SqJQbZyjUkI/AAAAAAAAGFI/G3UqKuk7Imk/s320/IMG_0645.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377949336743400002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this is my bonda, I'd post more pictures of the inside, but the internet is refusing to upload them. Maybe later. Enjoy my one lonely picture :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-1116875099344908394?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1116875099344908394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=1116875099344908394&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1116875099344908394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1116875099344908394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/09/bonda.html' title='Bonda'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/SqJQbZyjUkI/AAAAAAAAGFI/G3UqKuk7Imk/s72-c/IMG_0645.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-3726795533552313761</id><published>2009-09-05T07:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T07:26:41.599-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I owe you how much?!</title><content type='html'>So if you are from America like me, getting used to the currency here in Uganda is a bit hard. You see it is not uncommon to spend thousands of shillings on a meal or on your groceries. In fact, my total at the supermarket this week was 70,000 shillings. Ito! (as the K'jong say). Granted these things are basic cabinet stocking items and will last for a while, and when you translate it to USD it is significantly less. The current exchange rate is approx. 2000 Uganda shillings to 1 USD. When you sort it out... it really isn't so bad, but my oh my it hurts my brain to see all these big numbers. :) &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-3726795533552313761?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/3726795533552313761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=3726795533552313761&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/3726795533552313761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/3726795533552313761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-owe-you-how-much.html' title='I owe you how much?!'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-1528625454007891231</id><published>2009-08-29T15:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T15:16:13.940-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Housing here in this new home</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;           &lt;/span&gt;Life here in Karamoja is just different than life in America as you might expect. The other missionaries and I live a very comfortable life style, but there are still changes, challenges and new things to learn about life here vs. life at home.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I am living in a bonda which is basically a big round hut with a thatched roof. I have three windows, one door, two bunk beds, one wardrobe, one bookshelf, one desk and one papason chair. It is very nice, and actually one of the coolest (temperature wise) places on the compound. It is typically between 75 an 80 degrees Fahrenheit inside my house. The outdoor temperature has been between 85 and 90 I think. I haven’t checked really checked. Part of bonda living also includes outdoor facilities. I am not the biggest fan of the pit toilet and outdoor water spout, but I will learn to be in time. I am glad I get a shower house with running water! I do not have my own kitchen, but there is a kitchen in the main house that I can share with any visitors or other singles who are here on the compound. So far I have just been enjoying the company of others and eating their good food &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria;mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Soon I will have to pitch in, but it is nice to have a bit of time to enjoy fellowship and not have to worry about what to have to eat.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I really don’t have to worry much about adjusting to “my new home” for long because I begin house sitting for one of the missionaries tomorrow for the next three months. They are heading home for a time of rest, relaxation, and fund raising. I will have a nice big house with indoor plumbing all to myself. I will be very spoiled by time they come back &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria;mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; It is a good thing “my bonda” is cooler than their house, or else they might find me living on their couch when they arrive home. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-1528625454007891231?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1528625454007891231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=1528625454007891231&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1528625454007891231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1528625454007891231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/08/housing-here-in-this-new-home.html' title='Housing here in this new home'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-6739050387253345904</id><published>2009-08-27T16:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T16:06:28.639-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uganda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travels'/><title type='text'>Home in Karamoja, At Last</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I descended from the plane and was greeted by the smell of Uganda. It is hard to explain, but it is an acrid sort of smoky smell. You know what I am talking about if you have been here. I arrived approximately 12 p.m. Tuesday evening your time (EDT), and 7 a.m. in the morning here.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was so excited to be here. Traveling seemed to last forever, and it made it all the longer since I was stuck in the Airport FOREVER&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(awake the whole time) and then couldn’t sleep on my second flight. Oh well, there is no what to do.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I waited for a while in line to get my visa, and then headed to collect my baggage. It was very easy to spot my luggage since I was almost the last person through to collect luggage, Walking through the doors with my luggage secured I saw a familiar Mzungu face, two of them actually.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pastor Al and James were there to fetch me. I couldn’t have been more thrilled to see smiling and familiar faces (I had a few to many hours on my own).&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;Wednesday (the day I arrived here) we ran various errands in Kampala, and then head back to the airport, checked in at the flight motel, and relaxed for a bit. The T’s went to fetch Laurie (Mrs. T) from the airport later on that evening, and I stayed back and got ready for bed.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Today the T’s and I ran a few more errands on the way out of town and then headed to a city about two hours from the capital. We met up with Dr. Jim and Jacob there, transferred my&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;things to the other car, and then went our separate ways. The T’s are taking a few days of R and R and I headed to my new home. It is so good to be here, and start settling in. We didn’t get in until just before dinner time, so we unloaded, cleaned up and ate dinner with the Eldeens. Kris and I talked for a few hours after dinner which was really nice.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Thank you all for your prayers. I am so happy to be back. To be settling into the place I will call home for the next year. Don’t forget to keep in touch. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-6739050387253345904?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/6739050387253345904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=6739050387253345904&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/6739050387253345904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/6739050387253345904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/08/home-in-karamoja-at-last.html' title='Home in Karamoja, At Last'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-4380988686576458662</id><published>2009-08-20T00:01:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T00:48:35.280-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uganda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travels'/><title type='text'>*tick, tock*</title><content type='html'>Time is passing by, and it has taken summer with it.  My departure for Uganda is just around the corner. I think I started counting the days a little over 2 weeks ago, and now I am suddenly realizing that I only have a little over 2 days before I board the plane! Where has the time gone? Whoops... I have only saved approximately 1,000 things to be done in these last few days :) I wish I could have fit more in the past two weeks, the past month, but even so the days have been full. Unfortunately, I do feel as if there are 1,000 things to do and hundreds of people to see and I know that it won't all happen. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To my dear friends and supporters, thank you for your love, prayers and financial support. I am sorry I haven't been able to spend quality time with each and everyone of you, but please accept my heartfelt gratitude. It is through you all that God has provided for all my financial needs for the upcoming year. I know that God will continue to provide for my needs physically, spiritually and emotionally throughout the next year. I am excited to see how He will provide, and I know at times He will use you all in new and special ways to encourage and strengthen me. Please don't underestimate the power you have in this endeavor through prayers and thoughtful emails or cards. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This leaving part has never been easy, but I have also never left my home for a year. It is hard (as many of you warned me), but I know without a doubt that this is God's will for me at this time. Oh how I wish I could gather all my friends and family in one place instead of this loving of multiple people in multiple places, this separation for a time, and all of these good-byes, but I can't. Not for now. However, I know that a time is coming when all those who are in Christ will be joined together, in one place, for eternity! Praise God!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I guess this post can be summed up by: This leaving and preparation is hard, and I love you all. In the midst of this "hardship", let us look forward with great joy to the day we will all be joined in the throne room of our King!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-4380988686576458662?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/4380988686576458662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=4380988686576458662&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/4380988686576458662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/4380988686576458662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/08/tick-tock.html' title='*tick, tock*'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-6204750833774356815</id><published>2009-08-02T22:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T01:28:09.151-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Fear not, you worm..."</title><content type='html'>After a long and eventful day, I laid my head down to get some much needed rest when panic made me sit up with a fright. I leave in 17 days.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried lying in bed for a few moments listening to our neglected dogs play (at 12:30 in the morning mind you), and forcing my heart to be still. To stop freaking out. To sleep. This was all just because I was tired right? It didn't work. I got up sat in the dark loft for a little while praying, and when the dogs quieted down I returned to my room. I opened a new journal that I have been saving for this coming year in Uganda and began to write, two pages later I came to an end. Next, I opened my Bible and began to read. I started in Isaiah 41 because of the famous verse 10. "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." However, the verse that jumped off the page, made me laugh and calmed my soul was verse 14. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Fear not, you worm, Jacob, you men of Israel! I am the one who helps you, declares the Lord; your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Except it kind of read like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fear not, you WORM, Jenny, you woman. I am the one who helps you, declares the Lord; your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can do no more for my current fears than a worm can when it sees a GIGANTIC human foot approaching to squash it in a matter of seconds. It is pretty humorous really to be reminded that I am no more good for my fears than a worm for his fears. It also reminded me of the sermon Sunday night, Fear what? If God is for me, WHO can be against me? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here is to putting an end to the fears and concerns I have about how everything will be accomplished in the next 17 days, and how I will survive a year in Africa. Do you realize that a year is a very long time and there are lots of things I will "miss out on"? But I am confident that this is where God wants me to go, and what He wants me to do, so why should I fear? He is on my side! Praise His glorious name. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And here is to cherishing every moment of the next 17 days (and even more so the following 365 give or take a few in Africa).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-6204750833774356815?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/6204750833774356815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=6204750833774356815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/6204750833774356815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/6204750833774356815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/08/fear-not-you-worm.html' title='&quot;Fear not, you worm...&quot;'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-4667493232295824022</id><published>2009-06-08T12:25:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T12:47:31.663-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uganda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Missions'/><title type='text'>Returning...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z3tNUiijlQ8/Si09TcvEHHI/AAAAAAAAAF8/wSis0MMSq6M/s1600-h/IMG_1691.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z3tNUiijlQ8/Si09TcvEHHI/AAAAAAAAAF8/wSis0MMSq6M/s320/IMG_1691.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344995737099050098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was a hot day, the road was dusty, and my feet were tired from working at the clinic. Lunch of rice and beans was a welcome resting point. As I ate my lunch, I reflected on all the things I had seen since I arrived in Uganda. Breaking into my thoughts, Kris Eldeen, asked what my plans were after graduation. I told her how I was hoping to get more experience in pediatric nursing. She invited me to consider coming back to Uganda after graduation to work in the clinic. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;I arrived home after my time in Uganda praying and seeking counsel about the possibility of returning to serve God in Uganda. Through the counsel of my parents, pastor and members of the mission board and exploring the possibility further, it has become clear that God is calling me to Uganda for the coming year. &lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText"&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I would like to invite you to partner with me in my mission to Uganda.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I will be leaving on August 24,&lt;sup&gt; &lt;/sup&gt;2009 to spend one year in Uganda working with a team of missionaries ministering to the Karimojong people.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I need to raise $9,000 to cover the cost of supplies, travel, insurance, and living expenses. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; Would you pray and ask God how He would have you be involved with this mission? If you would like to partner in this mission financially please leave your name and email address in a comment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyText"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Thank you for prayerfully considering how you can partner in this mission endeavor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;    &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;     &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;    &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;                                                     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-4667493232295824022?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/4667493232295824022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=4667493232295824022&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/4667493232295824022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/4667493232295824022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2009/06/returning.html' title='Returning...'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07072014353353403533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/15/5578/320/CIMG2492.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z3tNUiijlQ8/Si09TcvEHHI/AAAAAAAAAF8/wSis0MMSq6M/s72-c/IMG_1691.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-1887093117118138801</id><published>2008-06-14T12:23:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T13:17:49.732-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I believe I have fallen...</title><content type='html'>in love. No not with a person, but with a country. The country of Uganda to be exact!&lt;br /&gt;We made it to Uganda around 12:30 p.m. local time (seven hours ahead of EST). We were tired from our travels but thrilled to have made it to Uganda. One of the missionarie couples called the Eldeens greeted us at the airport and took us to our hotel. After a shower and fresh clothes we headed out to the mall. I was picturing something similar to the shops we had seen as driving to the hotel.... rows of mud buildings with a variety of things to offer. I was quite taken back when we arrived at a mall that looked like something you might find in the USA. A three story building with several stores, a parking garage, and etc. After exchanging our currency we were ready to go shopping. We started in the grocery store as a team, divided the list, and conquered it within a very short period of time. Our next stop was a craft store where we bought a few souveniers, and then we headed out to dinner.&lt;br /&gt;After a good night's sleep we were on our way to our final destination, Karamoja. The roads were tar covered for most of the way (5 out of the 7 hours of travel). We saw beautiful sights such as a rain forest, multiple villiages, markets, mountains, waterfalls and much more!! The little children along the roadside would see us, jump up and down, wave and yell Mzungu (white person). We arrived at the mission around 4 p.m. It was so exciting to have arrived "home."&lt;br /&gt;The all girls are sharing one room together in one of the main houses, and the boys are staying in mud-brick bundas (?) outside.&lt;br /&gt;It is now time to let the rest of my team use the internet.&lt;br /&gt;Until next time... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praise God for safe travels, and for holding off the rain so the roads were much easier to navigate! On our way, over half of us were able to go out and hike around Paris. That was a wonderful experience, I will have to share that with you some other day :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-1887093117118138801?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1887093117118138801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=1887093117118138801&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1887093117118138801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1887093117118138801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-believe-i-have-fallen.html' title='I believe I have fallen...'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-1963928969552017745</id><published>2008-06-08T13:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T20:54:34.649-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uganda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Missions'/><title type='text'>Leaving on a Jet Plane</title><content type='html'>Well... departure is just around the corner.  I am leaving tomorrow at 12:15 from Indy to fly to D.C. to meet up with the rest of my team. We will hang out Monday and Tuesday, and then head to the airport Tuesday evening to begin our adventures! We will travel for 30+ hours and then finally arrive in Uganda. We will spend the night in the capital city, and then head for our final destination. Please pray that we would have safety  in traveling. Pray also that the roads in Uganda would be passable. The roads to the mission compound are dirt, and the rainy season has started.&lt;br /&gt;    I am praising God for abundantly and graciously providing all the funds for our trip. Your generous gifts have made it possible for me to have this amazing opportunity, and I cannot thank you enough. Seeing the Lord answer prayer by providing for all of my needs from finances to luggage has been so encouraging and humbling. I am very excited to see how He will continue to glorify Himself through our trip.&lt;br /&gt;    We hope to have internet access while we are there, but it is still uncertain. I am hoping to be able to keep you all updated either here or through email. If for some reason the internet access does not work out, I am sure I will have plenty of stories to tell when we return on July 16th.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-1963928969552017745?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1963928969552017745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=1963928969552017745&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1963928969552017745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/1963928969552017745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2008/06/leaving-on-jet-plane.html' title='Leaving on a Jet Plane'/><author><name>Jenny B</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03884806004195183166</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YtG0cK334Rs/THKnVTZeLPI/AAAAAAAAGHE/aadiElYfx4s/S220/IMG_2613.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12636130.post-844855785556438618</id><published>2008-05-13T14:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T15:03:26.615-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uganda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Missions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travels'/><title type='text'>An electronic letter</title><content type='html'>This is a copy of the first letter that I sent out about my upcoming mission to Karamoja, Uganda for those of you who didn't get a copy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;Dear Friends and Family, &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;Greetings! Summer is rapidly approaching, and I am excited to share with you some of the things God is doing in my life. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;Currently I am in my junior year at the IU School of Nursing in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Indianapolis&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. In looking back on the past year God has used change, academic challenges, and His word especially through sermons and bible studies to teach me and mold me. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;I was praying and thinking about how to use my “last” summer break when a couple of opportunities opened up. Through the counsel of my parents and others I have decided to pursue a summer missions trip to &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Uganda&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; with Reformed Presbyterian Missions. Some of you may remember my previous summer mission trips to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Cyprus&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; in 2005 and 2006 with RP Missions. This summer I am excited to participate with RP Missions in another location. This mission will allow me to use my nursing skills to serve in a clinic and gain experience in rural medicine. I am praying that God will use this experience to show me how I can use nursing to serve Him at home and abroad.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;I will, Lord-willing, be traveling with a team of&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;six others from June 9 to July 15 to work with a group of Orthodox Presbyterian missionaries in the Karamoja region of &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Uganda&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. Karamoja is rural sub-region in northeastern &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Uganda&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. The missionaries are using education, training in sustenance farming, medical services and other practical methods to minister to the Karamojong. Our team will be helping the missionaries in whatever ways we can whether it be manual labor, helping in the clinic, or teaching Religious Education and English classes in the village schools.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;I am excited about this opportunity, but I also recognize that it will challenge me in many ways. I am writing this letter to ask you to consider supporting me in this mission. The trip does have a financial cost of $3,400 to cover flight, food, supplies, etc., and if you are willing and able to support me financially I am enclosing a response card and envelope. Most importantly, my teammates and I need your support in prayer as we prepare for and participate in this mission. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;A few specific things you can pray for me and my teammates would be:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;- That each member of the team would be getting daily time in the Word &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;- That God would protect us both in preperation and while we are there&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;- That God would provide for our financial needs&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;Thank you! I look forward to being able to share how God used our mission trip in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Uganda&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Jenny B&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Batang;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12636130-844855785556438618?l=beautifulrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/feeds/844855785556438618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12636130&amp;postID=844855785556438618&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/844855785556438618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12636130/posts/default/844855785556438618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beautifulrain.blogspot.com/2008/05/electronic-letter.html' title='An electronic letter'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07072014353353403533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/15/5578/320/CIMG2492.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
