tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77309832690810354812024-03-13T23:12:16.311-07:00Nathan and JadeNathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.comBlogger164125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-51863007002891009052018-09-02T02:36:00.000-07:002018-09-02T02:36:11.405-07:00Cured<br />
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Ezra has been declared cured of epilepsy! We are in full blown celebration mode here in Uganda! Last week, Nathan flew Ezra back to Riley Children's Hospital in Indiana for his 1 year post surgery checkup. When the appointment was over, Nathan went to the receptionist and she said, "We don’t need to schedule anything else. Thank you for coming. Here’s a card if you need to call for anything.” Ezra looked at Nathan and said "What? We're done?!"</div>
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Yes son. You are done. No more<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span> </span>doctor's visits. No more medication. No more fearing when the next seizure will come. You have been declared healed. You are cured.</span></div>
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What an awesome God.</div>
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After all of Ezra's guests left his Cured Party, we gathered on the couch as a family and gave God thanks. Ezra prayed and said, "Thank you God for healing me. Thank you for giving me a chance at a better life".</div>
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Last year, after Ezra's brain surgery, you all mailed him dozens of Lego sets. We still remember him sitting in a hospital bed with his head all wrapped up and a mountain of Lego boxes surrounding him. We laughed when he said, "this is fun" hours after waking up from surgery. As a "fun" transition to this new chapter, after we prayed together, we gave him a new Lego set. We wanted to remind him of you all, the community of people who care about him and are praying for him.</div>
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He gigged and giggled.</div>
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Our son is healed. OUR SON IS HEALED. Thanks be to our merciful God!</div>
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With Great Love,<br />Nathan and Jade</div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-20819520903476052902018-07-16T07:45:00.000-07:002018-07-16T07:45:00.764-07:00Why Not Me?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Some missionaries are attacked by night terrors. Others, sickness and anxiety. For Nathan, it’s sleepless nights. For me, it’s doubt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Before our Dignity Project distribution, I had three African’s check my teaching manuscript and outline for the day. I have learned that my well-intentioned, well thought out plans might not always be culturally appropriate. So, with their review, I left for the training feeling equipped.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After a beautiful 1.5 hour boat ride across Lake Victoria, we reached Buvuma Island. Hundreds of excited children ran to our boat to greet us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Seventy-eight eager teen girls gathered in the chapel. “What am I doing here?”, I thought to myself, “Who am I to be teaching them?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The attacks began.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Why not me?”, I thought to myself and started sharing my testimony.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I told the girls how I had once sought to find my value in all the wrong places as a young adult and how it wasn’t until I felt God’s love for me that I felt true worth. Ugandans rarely cry and yet here I was with tears streaming down my face.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“What am I doing here?” I thought to myself. “Who am I to be teaching them?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The attacks persisted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Why not me?” I thought to myself and I pressed on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We scoured the Scriptures as we studied sex, holiness, who we are in Christ and living a life of purity. We played a true or false game to add some fun and laughter. Sometimes, when I thought the girls understood a concept, I'd realize they didn’t quite get it yet and I felt a pang of defeat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“What am I doing here? Who am I to be teaching this?”, I thought to myself as I explained and reexplained.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Why not me?", I thought to myself and resolved to move forward.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I asked the girls to stand up and tell the class what they learned. One by one, they stood up and shared:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“I learned to honor my parents.”<br />“I learned I am valued by God.”<br />“I learned to respect my body.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Realizing the things that were sinking in, my heart began beating fast and tears welled up in my eyes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The girls received their gorgeous, handmade Dignity Project sanitary pads. I caught a glimpse of Sophie passing out the pads and felt tremendous gratitude. All day long, my Sophie heard about my mistakes, my redemption, who she is in Christ and how we can live holy lives for God. She saw that a redeemed life is a life of service to God.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We ended the day by giving the girls an opportunity to pray and commit to living a life of purity for God. I wanted the prayer time to be sincere, so I gave the girls the opportunity to leave if they wanted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“What am I doing here? Who am I to be teaching them? What if no one stays behind to pray?”, I thought to myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Why not me?" I thought to myself as I looked around the room.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Not a single girl left.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All 78 girls, including the Muslim girls, stayed behind to pray.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I walked outside the chapel and cried a sigh of relief behind a huge palm tree. All throughout the day I felt scared, vulnerable and even silly at times. But God helped me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He always helps me. In the midst of my doubts, he speaks to me saying, "Why not you, Jade. Why not you?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Why not you?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Love,<br />Jade</span></div>
Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-3025101879666768642018-06-18T03:41:00.000-07:002018-06-18T03:41:03.253-07:00Hidden<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I woke up this morning to the sound of birds overhead and babies next door. While the sun warmed up, I drank coffee, read the Bible and ran through the plan for the day with Jade. Today, like every day lately, we’re hidden. No, we aren’t in hiding. We’re hidden. Hiding is a place for shame or fear. Hidden is a place where your unseen by mostly everyone but God. Today, like every day lately, our work is mostly unseen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">With a second cup of coffee I sit down at my compute<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">r to plug away at another chapter in a book that isn’t finished, another lesson in curriculum that isn’t done and a list of emails that will mostly solicit a reply or two. I push my work aside when an eager university student arrives at our gate. We study and discuss for an unplanned 4 hours. Jade isn't going to the village today, she’s going down the street to a tiny shop in the slums. Before she can distribute or teach, she needs products to take with her and lessons to follow. She affectionately calls days like today in the tailoring shop ‘a laboratory for her heart’. She’ll spend her day inspecting seems and cuts and quality. She’ll take three hours to do 3 minutes of work because conversations are most important. Our hidden work is the heavy lifting of ministry that happens before most people know anything has happened. It’s preparation but it’s also the core of the work. Hidden work is the study before the teaching, the training before the delivery, the hours and hours that come behind and before. I’m fulfilled in the hidden work of interviews, heavy study and prayerful thought. Jade is at her best in the work before the work where discipleship happens one-on-one. We move in weakness without a preceding hidden.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As Jade and I think about our hidden work, we wonder who else is hidden this morning. What are you doing that is vastly important to God’s ministry through your life while remaining unseen, unrecognized and hidden to everyone around you? Before the famous walk on the water, Jesus showed us his hidden ministry: “After he had sent them away, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone.” Who are you when you’re alone? Hidden ministry is a potent force. Are you hidden?</span></div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-55687124492857452332018-05-24T10:51:00.002-07:002018-05-24T10:51:38.022-07:00Everything's Better Together<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Today is Sophie's 11th birthday. She designed her day and tonight before bed she said, "This was the best birthday ever".<br />To Sophie, the best birthday ever was waking up to the dining room filled with cheap colorful balloons laying on the floor. It was banana pancakes with fake maple syrup. It was opening a handful of presents from family in the States and taking video so that grandparents could “be with us". It was homemade chicken pot pie. It was lawn games, pyramids and g<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">ymnastic shows with our little family all evening long.</span></span></div>
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Tonight, as the sun was setting, God warmed my heart. I thought of all the times I wondered if this call was 'too much' for our kids. I thought of how much the call of God has cost them. But when I look at this picture, I see our failed attempt at a pyramid bringing six belly laughs. We rolled in the grass laughing until the guard said, “uh, their might be termites there”.</div>
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Sophie’s birthday has been a solid reminder of two massive truths. Number one, God’s will is always worth it. Number two, everything is better when it’s done together.</div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-13770299185817676192018-05-21T04:14:00.003-07:002018-05-21T04:14:41.315-07:00The Art of Sharing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I have so much to learn. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A beautiful African woman sat at a table near us. She ordered a pizza and a huge plate of chips (french fries) for her and her family to enjoy. A short time later, the store manager approached her table and asked, “how is your food?". Her face lit up with a huge pearly white smile. 'Goodness, she is gorgeous’, I thought to myself. She raved over the food and then said something astonishing, “Would you like a piece?” He smiled and humbly declined.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Lat<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">er in the afternoon, Ruby and I made our way to the playground near our home. A family (who we didn’t know) was at the park celebrating their daughter’s birthday. The adults were dressed in suits and fancy dresses. The children were wearing their Sunday best. (African’s dress better than anyone I know, myself included.) As we approached the swing set, the African family caught a glimpse of us. “Would you like to join us? We are celebrating our daughter’s birthday. Would you like some cake and soda?” I thought, “What!?!” Again, I was astonished. We were strangers and they were inviting us to sit at their table. They cut the slices of cake smaller than they needed to, just to share with us. I sat there in awe as they carved up bite sized chunks of cake just so they could share it with passing strangers. If I were in Indiana at the park celebrating Ruby’s birthday and strangers walked by, the thought wouldn’t even cross my mind to offer them a slice of cake and a can of soda. If I were having a backyard barbecue I wouldn’t think to offer a passerby a hot dog.</span></span></div>
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The cake and soda didn’t just give me a sugar rush. It deposited value. It said, “you are worth me having less so that you can participate in my life.”</div>
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Later that night, Ruby and Ezra were praying with Nathan before bed. They thanked God for the “cake and pepsi in the park”. We realized that this kind of community love...the sharing, involving, including kind of culture…it’s normal to them. It’s not a crazy, standout action…it’s just a piece of pizza or cake in the park…it’s “normal".</div>
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I have so much to learn.</div>
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-Jade </div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-36735347046309287272018-05-17T03:21:00.002-07:002018-05-17T03:21:27.278-07:00The Dignity Project Mother's Day Campaign <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-esdwWvPnQkI/Wv1XCaALT9I/AAAAAAAAKHo/5Ub8sdYElVEzK0F6vCOs8Q3PsbKL_cqZwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1447" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-esdwWvPnQkI/Wv1XCaALT9I/AAAAAAAAKHo/5Ub8sdYElVEzK0F6vCOs8Q3PsbKL_cqZwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_6727.JPG" width="361" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was so nervous to share this year's campaign with you. Sharing the horror of what many women with fistula's experience here felt risky. What if you didn't understand? What if you were silent? With a stomach filled with nerves and a tender heart, I clicked "post" and released this year's campaign video to you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And God wooed my heart through you. You rallied around me. You rallied around daughters scared to be teased at school. You rallied around lonely women lying in hospita<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">l beds. You rallied around orphans who don't have a mother to ask senstivie questions about their bodies. You rallied around husbands who work long days to provide for their families but still struggle to afford a luxury like a sanitary pad. </span></span></div>
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May you not forget that to the majority of the world, sanitary pads are a luxury. </div>
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Our seamstresses have been hard at work building up our stock. Now, it's time to distribute some pads! Stay tuned!</div>
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Thank you Church. </div>
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{ Many of you have asked if you can give to The Dignity Project throughout the year. The answer is YES, of course! Our account is open all year long! <a data-ft="{"tn":"-U"}" data-lynx-mode="origin" href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fthedignityprojectuganda.com%2F&h=ATORNXkqxUlldzRtuNoUH7dLxOeIWDexBsCMF8eiSm7xL8qesfEgZwMVvWW3F4XH7F0tKkrzyQLrJCWVCX9vI66bFuYElvCkrS9ah5g5Vy23jATQhOcaeEWpCD072mwWYdWdA0lKSKDG" rel="nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">thedignityprojectuganda.com</a> }</div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-89360903399615823892018-04-30T08:42:00.000-07:002018-04-30T08:42:04.272-07:00Mother's Day 2018 with The Dignity Project<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/i2cbR04_G5U/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/i2cbR04_G5U?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You heard it right! Your $5 allows a woman with a fistula to walk freely without shame. Your $5 ensures that a school girl won’t miss class. Your $5 brings a hug and smile to a woman in the psychiatric hospital. Your $5 is allowing our seamstress’ to pay their 8 children’s school fees. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">+ please watch and share this video</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">+ go to: <a data-ft="{"tn":"-U"}" data-lynx-mode="origin" data-lynx-uri="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fdignityprojectuganda.com%2F&h=ATNIGAA9zTGJFuBH0NCPEe5bohKHHV185kg75OWXa1PoZ7OT62VIgyx9gogXFPLBV8LGkVQX2IwNUTBG7hzu1ifH-9GvZzhRwm4tJbQOgO3ia67_tLUU6QVXbgwerY40ZdTOt0G0Mkn5" href="http://dignityprojectuganda.com/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #365899; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">dignityprojectuganda.com</a> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">+ click ‘give’ to sponsor a woman today</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">+ download the Mother’s Day card to give to the woman your honoring</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Thank you! I love you people!</span></div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-70521340367795493742018-03-13T04:03:00.001-07:002018-03-13T04:03:22.435-07:00The Very Best You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzR6UhSraVOtd_35KqTU_t8GZIRRz4PVHVcP_cfgU9lDrlZK05eFwoUMUVsbuCDX5VNCT_-dBh_zKbUv0fodA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">I’m the best me when the people around me are nothing like me. As a father, I need father’s from other cultures and backgrounds to show me what works. As a husband, I need to watch a marriage succeed in a culture other than my own. I need my biases questioned, my traditions demoted and my preferences lost in a sea of another majority. I’m the best me when my “hear me” turns into “show me” and my security rests in the hands of some other shade of skin. The best man you’ll</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline;"> see me be is the fish out of water kind of man with flailing arms and gasping breath because my go-to power move has no traction here and I’m forced to follow the pace of “them”. My son needs men who aren’t like me. My daughters need examples besides my own and my children are the best them when people completely unlike their parents lead them, share wisdom with them and obtain a place of consistent respect in their lives. We are the best family we can be when the families around us are not like us. In the video, you see my son running, kicking a soccer ball and laughing. I love him and we love spending time together but I have not once witnessed him moving in this way. It’s not the surgery from last August. It’s not just a good day or just a game he likes. Ezra is being influenced by men who aren’t like me. I’m not threatened, I’m thrilled. In the past, I’ve asked other men to help me discipline and instruct my son in the lifestyle and expectations of honorable men. Jade has asked women who aren’t like her to speak into the life of our daughters from their own perspectives. The “other” people in this world are a missing piece in the very best you. Love isn’t just a bridge between cultures, it’s a wholeness and fullness within our own. -Nathan </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline;"><br /></span></span>Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-89167754546207900252018-03-05T04:33:00.002-08:002018-03-05T04:33:23.490-08:00Snail Mail<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kmymGjDjILo/Wp04-o--fzI/AAAAAAAAKGA/Se20G3uvXN0ADHw21w6T34WfBLJxy5V5ACLcBGAs/s1600/ADK_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="1445" height="327" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kmymGjDjILo/Wp04-o--fzI/AAAAAAAAKGA/Se20G3uvXN0ADHw21w6T34WfBLJxy5V5ACLcBGAs/s400/ADK_0003.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hooray! We can receive mail! Every Friday our mailbox gets checked and we love hearing from you! It currently takes about 3 weeks for us to get packages and letters from the States. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If you want to brighten our day sometime throughout the year:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nathan misses: watermelon Bubblicious gum & Jolly Ranchers</span></div>
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Jade misses: Dark chocolate & taco seasoning packets</div>
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Maddix misses: Hot Tamales & sour punch straws </div>
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Sophie misses: sour gummi worms & sour punch straws</div>
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Ezra misses: warheads & lemon-drops</div>
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Ruby misses: twizzlers & gum filled lollipops</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We love you all!</span></div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-83454177124174839752018-03-02T03:19:00.002-08:002018-03-02T04:31:47.085-08:00God's Economy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; text-align: justify;">In an orphanage seven hours away lives a 9 year old little boy. My son is 9, too. This little boy in the village is suffering with epilepsy. My son did, too. Not now, but once. For this boy, up to nine times a day, his little body collapses into seizures. Those who know this little warrior describe him as a “beautiful worshipper”. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I look over in the passenger seat at my Ugandan son, Ezra. We are on our way to the clinic to see the best pediatric neurologist in Uganda to discuss this other boy’s case. “Do you remember this clinic, Ezra?”, I asked him as we pulled into the compound. “Yes, this is the place where they did all those funny tests when my seizures started increasing.” We sat in familiar plastic chairs in the waiting room. I nervously pulled out a pad of paper and pen to pass the time. The pouring rain outside echoed the noise flooding my head. As we played hangman and tick-tac-toe my mind danced between belief and unbelief. I couldn’t believe God brought us back here. Then again…yes, I could. He is known for thoroughly redeeming. In our family, He is famous for it. When we go through something, He often turns us around and takes us back through again. And again. We’ve discovered that it’s in our "agains” that the real work happens.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Two hours later, the doctor God used to put us on the path to Ezra’s healing, leapt out of his seat to hug Ezra. “A miracle is standing in this room! Ezra is cured!”, we exclaimed. Two years ago, when untamed seizures clouded our hope, Dr. Justice believed for us. Now that we’re on the other side, he touches the faded scar on Ezra’s head and scribbles down pages of notes to share with the medical community. He calls in the clinic staff to celebrate and snaps a photo. In a country where brain surgery is impossible and medications are unaffordable, the majority of children and adults with epilepsy are sent to the psychiatric hospital for the rest of their lives. I could see it in the staff’s eyes, Ezra’s life was a beacon of hope for the uncured. </span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4xHkKCI0zDM/WpkykrccaMI/AAAAAAAAKFo/-I6XlhxxcIokfQxC-ChDkhhuQiGKZauVACLcBGAs/s1600/ACS_0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4xHkKCI0zDM/WpkykrccaMI/AAAAAAAAKFo/-I6XlhxxcIokfQxC-ChDkhhuQiGKZauVACLcBGAs/s400/ACS_0015.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Thank you for enduring,” Dr. Justice said to us. I began to weep. Few understand how taxing this process has been. Few know what is required and how many children have no chance because the requirement for healing is too high or not understood. Dr. Justice knows what it costs, not just money, life and energy and stress and failure and try again. He knows and he said the words I didn’t know I needed to hear: “thank you for enduring”.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Astounded by the present moment, we went on to discuss this other boy’s case. How can our “enduring" ripple and impact more than just Ezra? I suppose God’s economy sees one Ezra as a thousand children. He sees one Jade as a thousand mothers. Through Christ, one is way more than one. I wonder what God can do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On the drive home, Ezra and I took a selfie while sitting in a traffic jam. </span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nwvcA8bOn0U/WpkylDHzXeI/AAAAAAAAKFs/E8l4XowB-ZYR0gaZCS0WYcGfNUHrlwtQwCLcBGAs/s1600/ACS_0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nwvcA8bOn0U/WpkylDHzXeI/AAAAAAAAKFs/E8l4XowB-ZYR0gaZCS0WYcGfNUHrlwtQwCLcBGAs/s400/ACS_0014.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There are people who are depending on you to show up, flight and persevere. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In Him, your one is way more than one. Give one and watch God blow it up.</span></div>
Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-52584287648460621472018-02-28T03:23:00.000-08:002018-02-28T03:23:03.924-08:00Squinting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_zXyOoW4xZ0/WpaQ7k-DwmI/AAAAAAAAKFY/acKyHRnwoO8uKKOf3TUwE6aEnOWrr095wCLcBGAs/s1600/28337175_788734297993710_3929217095362581706_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_zXyOoW4xZ0/WpaQ7k-DwmI/AAAAAAAAKFY/acKyHRnwoO8uKKOf3TUwE6aEnOWrr095wCLcBGAs/s400/28337175_788734297993710_3929217095362581706_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For the brightest of lights, we need to squint and today I am squinting. Beaming upon my face is the classroom experience I’ve been witness to over the past three weeks. Today we finished Genesis, the first of five books in our Pentateuch class. We took a quiz covering the family line of Abraham, the 12 sons of Israel and the great themes at work in the Old Testament. During the final hour of class (which is 3 hours long) we played a game. I divided the class into three teams and I divided the chalkboard into three sections. The teams were to work from memory to retell every major event from their portion of the book of Genesis. Team #1 = chapters 1-11, Team #2 = chapters 12-36 and Team #3 = chapters 37-50. At the end, the teams would critique the other sections by finding “missing” events and try to persuade me to take points off that team. The team remaining with the most points at the end was the winner. Moments into the game I realized how much the students know. With only 4-5 persons on each team, they completely filled up their 1/3 of the board with detailed descriptions of chapter by chapter story line. When they began to critique each other, they could often quote not just the chapter but even the verse where the missing information could be found. All of this was done from memory. One student said, “Until I saw what we put on the chalkboard, I had no idea how much we really knew!” In their quizzes, they explained how sin is relational and how God is faithful in his covenantal relationships. Amazing! After class, one of my students told me he is from South Sudan and he would like advice on how to improve training among his people. A few minutes later he sent me an email describing the problems he deals within his country: “Our country has been in war for a long time and left most of the people uneducated. The church is the most victimized organization lacking qualified personnel.” This man is a part of the solution. He is a gift of the Church to the Church and I have the incredible honor of training him. I don’t know how to explain what fulfillment and joy is in my heart from serving God in this way. The excitement and emotion is so bright, I feel like I have to squint just to look at it. I tried reading through their quizzes in class but I was overcome by emotion and had to put them away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I’m so thankful that God has asked me to drive over an hour across town in the middle of Africa and teach on a concrete floor with no equipment but a blackboard, chalk and a rag. I’m so thankful that my American culture is regularly overshadowed by the African majority in my class. I’m so thankful that my ideas of intensity and serious study fall short of these students worthy of deep admiration. I’m so thankful that a teaching position puts me in a student position time and time again. I’m so thankful that by opening my student's eyes to Biblical interpretation and theological accuracy, they are opening my eyes to sacrifice, faith and the reality of putting everything on the line for the Kingdom of God. I believe God had blessed me in this opportunity. I said “yes” to God and God said “yes” to me. God blesses yesses. </span></div>
Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-30638151371116126742018-02-27T03:20:00.000-08:002018-02-28T03:21:05.303-08:00"We Wouldn't Change A Thing"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6oIkG0wve3A/WpaQbYUcfJI/AAAAAAAAKFQ/zxrOoVbIB0Ebdg5epbr3BfTTdjTTkuYOQCLcBGAs/s1600/ACS_0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1045" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6oIkG0wve3A/WpaQbYUcfJI/AAAAAAAAKFQ/zxrOoVbIB0Ebdg5epbr3BfTTdjTTkuYOQCLcBGAs/s400/ACS_0011.JPG" width="261" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">This week is Spirit Week at the children’s school where each day is dedicated to some kind of costume or theme like “wacky” day. Today was Africa day. Maddix and Sophie decided to wear their hair in braids like many of the women do here. So cute right?! These girls have jumped right back into life in Uganda. They clean chicken poo off our eggs, don’t miss a beat when the power goes out and brushing their teeth with bottled water is now normal. They’ve made great friends and l</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline;">ove their school. It hasn’t all been easy, though. The move back to Africa was quite hard for them, actually. It has been a long mourning process to leave family, friends, church and school. The last 7 weeks have been filled with many tender moments helping them (and their siblings) navigate the present pain of the call. We praise God that through their pain, they frequently come to the conclusion that He is good and this is right, saying to us, “Thank you for obeying the Lord. We wouldn’t change a thing.”</span></span></div>
Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-6124475126686909752018-02-13T03:18:00.000-08:002018-02-28T03:18:57.020-08:00I Am Not The Middle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I woke up dreading today. I got into the car and my eyes filled with tears. I am ashamed to tell you that comfort and convenience is an idol that I am quickly realizing I worship. Unreliable internet, broken ATM's and failed Skype calls home has produced a sinful attitude in me. For days I have been harboring bitterness. I sat in the car suffocating with a privileged attitude. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Today's agenda: purchase Dignity Project fabrics for a new product we've designed for women sufferi<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">ng with fistulas in a refugee camp about 5 hours from our home. I started up the car with dread thinking that today would be another exhausting battle with traffic jams, a hot sun, miscommunication and tireless searching for materials. </span></span></div>
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We pulled into busy downtown in front of a small fabric shop. My friends and I had never been there before but decided to go in. To our surprise, they had every single thing we needed! We literally walked from our car into the shop and back to the car. This is unheard of here! </div>
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The traffic jam on the way home gave me time to think. </div>
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There is danger in a view of the world that is restricted to one's own personal experience. I am not the middle. I am not the most. I thrive and grow when I broaden my view of this world to something bigger than myself. Tomorrow I want to see this world painted with a humble hue where traffic jams become thinking moments, a hot sun becomes quiet in the shade, miscommunication becomes a celebration of diversity and my tireless searching becomes service to those who need my help.</div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-12498084082621701182018-02-08T03:38:00.002-08:002018-02-08T03:38:42.564-08:00Jittery <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This is me, preparing a lesson. I'm a teacher.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As we were preparing to leave the States and return to Uganda, many of you asked what I was planning to do. I told quite a few of you about my sense of obligation to the transfer of knowledge and education. I told you about how I wanted to give everything I have to equip eager young African minds and help them to become everything they can be. At the time, I wasn't quite sure how that would happen and I was quite prepared to <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">endure a long search. Well, this is me, preparing a lesson. Next Wednesday, I begin teaching Pentateuch at <a href="http://africarenewaluniversity.org/about-afru/who-we-are" target="_blank">Africa Renewal University</a>. I've been jittery at my desk all morning either trying to hurry through other work so that I could finally get to my lesson prep or jittery in the lesson prep because I was so excited to be working on lesson prep. It's not just about the content (although the content is awesome), it's about the weight of responsibility and the power of the impact and the height of the potential! It's about gifting and passion lining up with schedule and activity and need. Is there any greater feeling than discovering your favorite work is in desperate need? I get to prepare 11 lectures complete with small group stuff, foundational theology, social and personal application time, creative exercises, wow, woah and yippee! Lecture #1 for our first course is "Creation and Fall" and the thrill of reading and prep is enough to knock my head off. Next week is "Covenant" oh my I'm going to pass out. Then we head to "12 Sons, 12 Tribes" and "Slavery and Deliverance" and then the big week on "Law". I mean, I'm gonna lose it! And, who got to design the course, choose the structure, write the syllabus, create a midterm and a final? Yea me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Right now, I've only agreed to a contract for one semester. We'll see how that goes and then talk about something a little more permanent. In the meantime, pray for my students and pray for me.</span></div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-38923176478010142702018-02-02T05:34:00.002-08:002018-02-02T05:34:55.724-08:00A Poem By Sophie<div style="color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I Am From::</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am from Tide detergent and big African baskets.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am from a cozy green house with a small blue car.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am from strawberries in Grandma’s garden.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am from stupid jokes and Fairmount Family Camp.</span></div>
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I am from empathy and night-time prayers.</div>
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I am from; whenever we are together, that is home.</div>
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I am from pepperoni and beef jerky.</div>
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I am from Papaw and Grandma Jane's cookouts.</div>
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I am from funny uncles and defensive basketball.</div>
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I am from a big white wall filled with family photos.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-Sophie, age 11</span></div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-31169160750193579762018-01-31T05:49:00.002-08:002018-01-31T05:49:35.040-08:00Fighting For Dignity<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GH0nDMH3fCk/WnHJN3pDuDI/AAAAAAAAKCo/rEJT1efIUm88Qahvv4Qpmn4t8q13DsuKQCLcBGAs/s1600/ACS_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1093" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GH0nDMH3fCk/WnHJN3pDuDI/AAAAAAAAKCo/rEJT1efIUm88Qahvv4Qpmn4t8q13DsuKQCLcBGAs/s400/ACS_0001.JPG" width="272" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This morning I woke up to an alarm on my phone. It was charged with electricity. I washed my face and brushed my teeth over the bathroom sink. We have running water. I picked out a striped t-shirt and a pair of jeans from our closet. I had dozens of clothes to choose from. I woke up our kids from their beds. They sleep in beds. They picked out breakfast; cereal with milk. Our fridge and cupboards are filled with food. I made their lunches; salami sandwiches, crisps, juice box<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">es, vanilla wafers, and bananas. I know our kids will be fed 3 meals today. Before walking to school Ruby said, "Take a photo for Grandma Sandy. She got me this necklace." They have loving grandparents that spoil them. I walked Maddix, Sophie, Ezra and Ruby to school. Our kids get to go to school. </span></span></div>
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This afternoon I had a Dignity Project meeting about a recent distribution in the slums. Ninety young girls received their washable sanitary pads, learned about their bodies, their value and the One who designed them. My friend shared, "Thank you for the work Jade. A twelve-year-old girl shared that she has been forced to prostitute herself for her monthly pads."</div>
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I thought to myself, "What do you mean she *had* to prostitute herself for pads?" It's easy to criticize the live's of those whose shoes we've never worn and whose struggles we've never known.</div>
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Then I thought about my morning and how it was no different than any other day of my life. We all woke up in warm beds with closets full of clothes, a stocked kitchen and supplied bathrooms, running water, strong bodies to accomplish the days work and community that supports us.</div>
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The love of God compels me to fight for dignity and girly joy in all women, from my five-year-old daughter to the twelve-year-old in the slums and the women I call my sisters-in-Christ. </div>
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<span class="_5mfr _47e3" style="line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/fed/2/16/2764.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /> -Jade </span> </div>
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****<br />To Grandma Sandy,<br />Thank you for the necklace.<br />Love,<br />Ruby</div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-70923990615300309492018-01-22T05:39:00.003-08:002018-01-22T05:39:52.176-08:00Show Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EyjuawUYOIY/WmXpZDfPyKI/AAAAAAAAKCU/K9KPcHIAdloRl5uAwL8svdJLdDhRhwYHACLcBGAs/s1600/26992166_771528196380987_4143079491148038570_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EyjuawUYOIY/WmXpZDfPyKI/AAAAAAAAKCU/K9KPcHIAdloRl5uAwL8svdJLdDhRhwYHACLcBGAs/s400/26992166_771528196380987_4143079491148038570_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My mind is a huge battlefield here in Uganda. Accusations like "What difference will you really make by going?" and "What difference will these pads really make?" are landmines that threaten to take me out. While putting my makeup on this morning I had to audibly speak truth to myself, "I believe the world will change by sitting with strangers. I am not called to win or loose, I am called to fight. Go and fight. Make friends with strangers. See what God will do."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I finished p<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">utting on my makeup and went to work. I spent part of my day visiting a new friend's home in the slums. He was very surprised by my visit and I learned a lot about the area he lives in. IF people have a job, they usually make around $1 to $1.50 a day. I learned that families in this area can't afford to birth their children at the hospital and struggle just to find enough food for their families to eat. The rest of my day I spent alongside a brilliant midwife taking blood pressure for pregnant mom's in the very same slum my friend lives in. I fed, burped and cuddled a 3 month old miracle baby weighing only 3 kilograms. I told the pregnant mothers in the clinic how beautiful they were, dressed in their best for their appointment. I was astounded by a woman in her third trimester, though tired and covered in sweat, she used her own umbrella to shade me from the sun as I took her blood pressure. As I knelt there on the dirt ground being shaded by her umbrella, I thought about goodness. I thought about how a person with goodness adds value to other peoples lives. Her small gesture made me feel more valuable. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What if this is how we change the world? Visiting strangers. Listening to people's stories. Offering a hug, a handshake, an umbrella.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Today, as you put on your mascara or straighten your tie for work, you might hear the same land mines I hear. You might catch wind of a lie about your capacity or your value or ability to influence others. Look in the mirror and tell yourself that fighting IS winning. Show up for life today. Make friends with strangers and see what God will do.</span></div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-35996118278818509372018-01-22T05:37:00.002-08:002018-01-22T05:37:35.213-08:00Life Together<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Uganda taught me something this week. I was under a table working with two Ugandan friends to attach the table top to the legs with metal brackets. I had a big drill in one hand, a screw in another and with my pinky I was trying to keep the bracket in place while leaning on my elbow at an awkward angle. I pushed hard and tried to hold everything in place but the twist of the drill caused the screw to wobble and I dropped it. I dropped a screw. In unison, both Ugandan men<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"> sighed, "ohhh, ohhh, sorry". I looked at them and saw they were still holding down the top and focused on the work. I started laughing and remembered how other Ugandans have done similar things when I've bobbled something or slipped or tripped, even in the most minor of ways. "Ohhh, ohhh, sorry!" That little moment with the dropped screw sparked a long conversation about the differences in our cultures. I told them I noticed their audible concern and I asked why they both acted that way. Their response: "We live our lives together in Africa. When something happens to you, it also happens to us." This concept is consistent with everything I've learned about Africa during our time living here. America tends to value a life based on what is accomplished. Africa seems to value a life based on how it's connected to other lives. The dropped screw led to a conversation about how communities work together to mourn the loss of loved ones. I was fascinated by the conversation that ranged from a bobbled screw to a lost loved one but remained centered on the "life together" thread. From the smallest moments to the largest, life is lived together. All real living is meeting. I hope that this table is a place of meeting where connection occurs in every moment of life, from the smallest to the largest. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">How can you connect with someone today? Regardless of the size of the event or the magnitude of the moment, every step of life is an opportunity to join in the journey of someone else. </span></div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-9032435771036910932018-01-09T02:09:00.000-08:002018-01-09T02:09:27.221-08:00Home<div style="color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We are home in Uganda. God did it! He really did it! We have so much we want to share with you in the weeks to come, but for now let us tell you about our kids. </span></div>
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It took us 31 hours to travel from our front door in America to our front door in Uganda. The kids handled the car rides, plane rides, airport stops and bumpy African roads like champs. Sure, there were tough moments of exhaustion but they redirected their thoughts and conquered! </div>
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In historic African fashion, we were<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"> greeted once again by no power at home. For the last 36 hours we have been without electricity. The kids didn’t skip a beat when Nathan read them their bedtime story by flashlight last night. </span></div>
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This morning I walked Maddix, Sophie, Ezra and Ruby to school. We thought they would want to wait a few days before starting but they were eager to see their old friends and meet new ones. As we arrived at school, several friends noticed them and cheered. That made my momma heart so happy! </div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To all of you who pray for our kids, thank you!</span></div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-26847977360665890182018-01-04T12:29:00.000-08:002018-01-04T12:29:00.920-08:00Uganda, Here We Come!<br />
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Our suitcases are packed and we are ready to head to the airport Friday morning. Uganda, here we come! </div>
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Some time ago, God gave us a family word: LINGER. Uganda taught us that word and we lingered in every way we could, with every person in front of us, to the best of our abilitly.</div>
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We are convinced that our lingering with others ushers in the presence of God. His presence saw the healing of our son, the restoration of our souls, the energizing of our spirits, the orchestratio<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">n of our schedule and a wide-spread community impact that leaves us humbled and heartened. </span></div>
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We have no idea what the next 3 years will bring, but we are far more impressed with the Planner than the plan. He has been faithful and we are merely checking the ink in our pens to insure we have enough to write His story. </div>
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Thank you Church for joining our plot by inserting a chapter that is nothing short of epic. We love you!</div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-74798359284451563582017-11-20T12:45:00.003-08:002017-11-20T12:45:51.655-08:00The Countdown Has Begun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This week is a giant community win! Today, we booked our tickets to Uganda! We leave January 5th. Friday will be 3 months since Ezra’s miracle brain surgery. He still is seizure free and thriving! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ruby Ann has a countdown to Uganda on our fridge. She marks an ‘X’ for every day that passes and if she forgets her siblings remind her. We are so proud of these kids of ours. They aren’t counting down the days until they get to open Christmas presents. Instead, they are counting down the days until they GET to move back to the mission field. What a faithful, faithful God! Many of you have told us that you have specifically prayed our kids would be excited to go back to Uganda and God’s answered that prayer! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We love you all!</span></div>
Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-65728613710361111082017-11-08T10:36:00.000-08:002017-11-10T03:18:45.623-08:00His Descent, My Going<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hut! Hut! Hike! They were all lined up as Dad hollered out to Maddix and cousins. I watched as giddy children concocted secret plays for backyard football. The setting sun painted a dreamy backdrop with<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>glowing shades of yellow, pink
and blue. We devoured pork from a hog dad started roasting early in the morning and laughed until the evening logs on the fire fizzled out. The day’s activities were a paradox of soulful glee and searing pain. Come January, these events will begin a three year pause as our family moves back to Uganda.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I love my father’s work ethic and wisdom. I love my mom’s
tenderness and generosity. I love how my stepdad’s eyes are leaky like mine. I
love my stepmom’s go-with-the-flow attitude making the kids always feel at
ease in her care. They each add so much value to our lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For weeks I have been wrestling with the pain of leaving. In
the middle of sleepless nights, while I scour the Word, as I jog and pray, I
hear the words, “But Christ, He compels me to go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Nathan and I just got back from a 9 day trip to Uganda. One
afternoon we went to visit our dear Kenyan friend. After a few minutes of
chit-chat, she said she wanted to talk to me privately. She took my hand and gave me an article called, ‘Girls from Poor Families use Cow Dung as Sanitary Pads’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The article
described how school girls were so tired of getting made fun of for their
soiled uniforms that they had resorted to using dried cow dung to construct "sanitary" pads. The article resonated deeply with me because just last October we gave 166 Dignity Project Kits to girls who were using the very same methods. My friend said, “Thank you for the work you are doing with The Dignity Project.
It is important. Thank you for your sacrifice.” I inhaled a deep feeling of warmth. I was <i>seen </i>and<i>
known </i>by God. He knew I needed a reminder of why we are leaving backyard
football games, hog roasts and campfires. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“But Christ. He compels me to go.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I go because He saved my life when I was dying in sin. I go
because He asked me to. I go because I can’t turn my back on girls dying from an infection over something he’s shown me how to fix. I go because I know a Man named Christ who wants to be the closest friend to hopeless inmates and lonely women in psychiatric wards. I
believe there is a direct relationship between my perception of Christ’s
descent for me and my willingness to descend for others. As Jesus was sent into this world, so He is sending us. For His glory, I'm going.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">*****</span></div>
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<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To my parents,</i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hope you are proud of my going. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It is painful to leave you. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Love, <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Jade </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-4763032985573570232017-11-05T09:41:00.000-08:002017-11-08T09:42:22.062-08:00See You Soon Uganda<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">Goodbye for 9 weeks, Uganda! </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">Today we concluded our time here worshipping with our church family. As we pulled into the parking lot we could our brother’s and sister’s African voices singing. Tears began to well up in my eyes. I’ve been dreaming of this moment. We greeted the congregation and thanked them for fasting and praying for Ezra. They cheered as we shared that Ezra has been seizure free since his surgery. “Children die from this very thing here”, friends shared. P</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline;">astor James led the congregation in a very moving time of prayer for all the children in the world who suffer from epilepsy. To our delight the choir had prepared a special song for us, ‘Just A Closer Walk With Thee’. We laughed in delight! It was beautiful! In true African fashion, Nathan preached for one hour. After he finished, Pastor James said, “It’s over?! I thought you were just getting started!” We were very touched following the service when dozens of people took time to greet us personally. One Ugandan said, “it’s no longer time for goodbye, just say ‘see you soon’”. So Uganda, see you soon. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline;"><br /></span></span>Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-70757589569873051742017-11-02T09:38:00.000-07:002017-11-08T09:39:50.600-08:00Nesting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-47x50g3XBXo/WgNA_QnAqRI/AAAAAAAAJ-k/03Uosz44WCMe9PdSnWf2rtJp2Dxw8-j8QCEwYBhgL/s1600/23116992_737095029824304_1119273062180932343_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1451" data-original-width="1451" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-47x50g3XBXo/WgNA_QnAqRI/AAAAAAAAJ-k/03Uosz44WCMe9PdSnWf2rtJp2Dxw8-j8QCEwYBhgL/s400/23116992_737095029824304_1119273062180932343_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My legs are burning, my back is aching, her skin is sunburnt, our sweat is thick and our hearts are full. Today we moved our belongings to the new house, preparing for an exciting three years of ministry in Uganda. The nesting stage of this transition is hugely important. We learned last time how meaningful and impactful it is to patiently make our house a home. From a house, we receive shelter, warmth, and protection. From a home, we receive love, comfort, and hope. The hard work will pay off tenfold! We can't wait to wake up tomorrow and continue the work preparing our home for the big move in January. We'll work two more days before Nathan preaches on Sunday and we head straight to the airport after church!</span></span></div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7730983269081035481.post-3807854824083275022017-10-30T09:33:00.000-07:002017-11-08T09:37:03.364-08:00We Will Celebrate<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ovL9-xtCLf4/WgNAV9N85EI/AAAAAAAAJ-c/O7mn9h82GJ4P38fw1c1DNqpW1jtZDy_EwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_4962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ovL9-xtCLf4/WgNAV9N85EI/AAAAAAAAJ-c/O7mn9h82GJ4P38fw1c1DNqpW1jtZDy_EwCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_4962.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Nathan and I are in Uganda. Right now I can hear the birds singing, chickens clucking, cows moo-ing, horns honking and the call to prayer at the local mosque. There is a cool breeze blowing in after this morning’s rain. My skin has a thin layer of red dust covering it from these gorgeous red dirt roads. We are home. Next to me is my prayer journal. As I scroll through the pages I see a woman who’s heart was in tension of surrender and begging. In the weeks leading up to Ezra<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">’s brain surgery I wrote over and over, “Lord, I surrender the possible future pain of not moving back to Uganda.” I spelled out all the possible outcomes and what if’s and wrote, “Even though____ may happen, even though ____ may happen, I trust you, Lord.” One month before surgery I sketched out the map of Africa and wrote a promise God gave me about our return. </span></span></div>
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These next 7 days in Uganda are a celebration of God’s faithfulness. As we prepare our home for our January family arrival, we will celebrate. As we meet with our Dignity Project seamstress, we will celebrate. As we laugh and chat with our boda driver, we will celebrate. As we pack up 70 discipleship kits to be distributed in Congo, we will celebrate. As we buy mattresses for our children, we will celebrate. As we pick out the perfect shade of turquoise for Maddix’s room, we will celebrate. As we eat meals with our dear friends, we will celebrate. As we worship Sunday with our home church, we will celebrate. </div>
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Today, I echo the words I wrote on Ezra’s surgery day; “For who is God, but the Lord!” </div>
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Nathan and Jadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00618663697773935538noreply@blogger.com0