Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Three More Years

Imagine heading over to the post office to get your passport for the first time. Next you send that passport off with a completed application form to the embassy in Washington D.C. for the country in which you'd like to travel. A few days later, the passport is returned and you have a beautiful stamp in your book. While I realize this isn't the picture of how most expatriates would actually obtain a work permit, it is the image most of us share given our limited exposure to other countries and cultures.

Obtaining a work permit from inside a developing country is rather different from how it's done from America; and it's rather different from inside each country too. No two processes are alike. I recently had the opportunity to experience the contrast between the process in Kenya and the process in Uganda. I have to be honest that I continue to be surprised at how drastically different the two countries are in so many ways given their close proximity.

Both countries required some kind of proof for the need to be in country. In my case, that proof was the establishment of the NGO (nonprofit) in that country. Once that general step was complete, each with its differing set of hoops, the work permit application begins.

Uganda required a letter from the NGO board recommending me for the proper work permit. Asking in advance what Immigration required was the key to avoiding extra money, travel, and frustration. I simply provided all the documents, signatures, and the NGO Board letter to the Immigration office. I think this is where people get frustrated. Many differing lists of requirements exist and, well, some folks aren't great at documentation and following lists and such. Perhaps my operations management background gives me a leg up in this area. I checked back in the allotted time, paid the prescribed fee, and dropped my passport to receive its final stamp.

In Kenya, though, I needed help from a dear friend, James. Moving around Nairobi in and of itself is exceedingly different than in Uganda. Nairobi is so much more spread out than Uganda and so without his help I would have failed to find the mailbox let alone Nyayo house. Kenya has more information available online and it seems to be consistent. Once he delivered the prescribed documents, we waited. The next step was delivering the money. The next, picking up the approval and then fingerprinting and registering for an alien identity card (wonder if I'll have green skin and google eyes).

Getting to the point of the so far rather boring story, I have heard via personal conversations, Facebook groups, and eavesdropping while waiting in line that those applying for both Ugandan and Kenyan work permits were exceedingly frustrated. Here's why, they'd had:
  • Service providers who were unethical or inattentive.
  • Bribes that were required to get files "unlost."
  • Delays were unexplainable (though a peek inside the office mess explained a bit).
  • Advice differed from one representative to another.
  • Rejection notices seemed not to be warranted.
  • Time was lost.
I could go on. Instead I want you to hear my story.


My story is one of favor - the favor of my Father in heaven. I am truly rejoicing in him for sparing me the anxiety so many have experienced, for giving me favor with the leaders and decision makers in high offices, and for affirming my work through Surprised by Hope. Please, I am not saying he loves only me and all these other people and their unfortunate frustrations are any sign of failure or lack on their part. Not at all. Instead I'm choosing to give him the glory for making my application and approval process relatively easy. Yes, I now have 3 year work permits for both Kenya and Uganda. 2017 here we come!
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Monday, September 29, 2014

Pretty Maasi Sandals

These pretty shoes adorn the feet of many local women. You may have had a chance to see and purchase a pair when I was home. Thanks to a special order, now you have the opportunity to see how they're made and the people who make them.


Cowhide is prepared for shoe making.
The leather is more intricately shaved and prepared.
Ladies in the village create beautiful bead designs.
Both men and women in the city also prepare beautiful bead designs.
These are your's, Tricia, prepared especially for you.
Men cut the shoe shape using wood foot molds for size.

They pound the letter-design around the edge of the shoe
using a metal die and a hunk of plastic.
These are yours, Tricia.
They feed the straps through holes punched into the shoe
and fit them on these forms.


It's usually a production line type process,
but Tricia needed tiny size and so hers were made special.
Glue the straps down to the bottom of the shoe.
Stick the shoes on the sole rubber and cut.


Sandals for sale. Market vendors usually purchase their shoes here
and take them to the wazungu market to sell.
Tricia and Friends shoes...Compared to theirs, my feet look huge...but pretty.
Your finished shoes, Tricia.

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Thursday, September 4, 2014

Leslie's 2014 Summer Whirlwind


I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it.  I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. (Philippians 4:10-13)

I feel a bit like Paul may have when he finally returned to the Philippians. For whatever reason, he was delayed in returning and that delay caused a bit of cooling in some relationships. That's natural, right? Out of sight, out of mind. But the rejoicing truly begins when we realize we were not forgotten, we were missed, and we are still loved.

I can't begin to describe the sense of deep joy and true relief I felt at seeing so many of you (and a bit of sorrow for those around whom I didn't get to wrap my arms). I am something far greater than content with my life in East Africa, but at least part of that contentment is drawn from a place deep within where I know I'm still important to you. Greater still is the joy at knowing that what the Lord is doing through Surprised by Hope is still important to you. What an honor to serve a God who takes us just as we are (in my case, a little rough and bruised) and uses us for his glory.


My very short six weeks at home (U.S.) allowed me to visit all three of my children, lots of friends and family, and several pastors whom I so dearly missed. But what I didn't expect was all the beautiful new pastors and friends I would meet. God multiplied my blessing through you and well…I love those kinds of surprises. More importantly, I was able to share with you what God has been doing through Surprised by Hope and to reveal a bit of his vision for our future …a future of growth and expansion by way of countries and teams as well as a more in-depth focus on community development for pastors.

My first week home (Uganda) was a time of rest and reflection, a time of pressing into the Lord to hear what he would share about my little whirlwind in the States. And well…he affirmed a number of hopes that have tossing around in my heart for a while. I look forward to sharing them all with you in the very near future. For now, know that I am so incredibly thankful for you, for your warm welcome, hugs, and for the many gifts that will enable Surprised by Hope to do what God has created us to do.


Big hugs,
Leslie


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Thursday, August 28, 2014

Solitude

Overflowing. The best word to describe my time with you is exactly that…overflowing. Five states, 18 group events, and 20 individual get-togethers, and not nearly enough time with children and grandchildren…all in 42 days. Vacation? Rest? I think not. Some people might call that an overflowing schedule. Me? I call that overflowing blessing.

You blessed me with a welcome home overflowing with joy and gladness. We worshiped together, we prayed together, we shared the love of Jesus together. And then it was time to go home and you blessed me with a good-bye overflowing with love and compassion. I'm left with the renewed realization of how deeply I love (and need) my church and my church family. All that overflowing emotion in the small space of just 42 days.

Solitude. After the rush of all that was home and the many blessings and surprises…the overflowing of the most broad spectrum of emotions (too many to describe here)…comes the need for solitude. Deep breath. I had a plan to spend some tender time with my Daddy so that together we could process all that he had done with and through us during our time together in the States.

Instead what I found was that my mind raced with all that needed to be accomplished upon return. Prayers were fragmented, worship was interrupted, reading was choppy, hunger was distracting. I realized, though, that my Daddy already understood all this. He knew that quiet time would be hard for me and he gladly accepted fragments, interruptions, choppiness, and distractions…whatever I could give him.


I found that as I relinquished my need to methodically process the overflow, and believed that my Daddy would accept whatever I could genuinely give, I was able to spend more meaningful, rich time with him. He loves me. I'm not done yet. I'm not done pressing in, reading, praying, worshiping, and hungering…I'll never be done. He's my Daddy and I want his overflow.
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Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Paidah Financial Management

Participants were leaning forward in engaged anticipation so much so that I thought they might gobble me up. So many familiar faces lined these benches as the pastors and other leaders learned about product pricing, budgeting, bookkeeping, and financial reporting. Pastors must have additional sources of income to support their families, but we made our learning relevant to the church as well.

Most of these people indicated they’d never learned about money management before and, as much as I hate to say it, it showed in the way they’d planned for this event. Our mistakes are often our best learning opportunities, aren’t they? Real life examples and solving those real life problems are the best teachers and I’m thankful for the ability to make relevant our learning on the fly.


The sounds of heavy downpour on the iron sheets disturbed us just a few times but we loved the worship that filled in those gaps.



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Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Sensible Shoes from Barb

Children crushed in with the hope of receiving a pair of shoes to separate their feet from the perils of jiggers and other horrible things hiding in the bare ground. My joy, though, is found less in the shoes and more in the tender washing of those tiny feet and the prayers and prophecy over them. Yes, I cringe when I scrape thick layers of earth from between those toes, which have obviously not been washed in any recent weeks. I wince when I find open sores hidden by loose flesh also caked in dirt. But Jesus loves these children and accepts them dirty feet or not.

A simple thought passed through my mind, ever so quickly. Can’t we at least have some clean water for each child? The answer, I already knew was “no.” Their only access to water was several kilometers away, downhill. To ask my host or anyone else, for that matter, to traipse up and down that hill for hours so that I could wash the feet they failed to wash themselves would be ridiculous. And so the basin gradually provided something more like a mud bath.

As I prayed for these children, I found myself praying that the girls would have the boldness to break out of the stereotypes so heavily ingrained in them and for their freedom to live and love as the Lord does. I found myself praying that the boys would recognize the way Jesus loves his church and that they would grow to be men who loved their wives in the same way. On and on the prayers for these children went until finally I asked the adults surrounding me as I prayed and washed these feet whether they too prayed for their children. We had the perfect opportunity to be an example to these parents of how to love and pray for our children.

I was so humbled and thanked the Lord for this specific appointment. I asked his blessing for Barb because she made this ministry opportunity possible. Tender, sweet, and life-changing. I admit that I had hoped, though rather foolishly, that I’d be able to make some kind of exchange – old shoes for new shoes – so that I could create a simple gift for Sharon, the inspiration for this small ministry endeavor. But I quickly new there would be no shoes to exchange. And so, we shared 10 pair, but there are so many more in need.


The story of Surprised by Hope and Sensible Shoes goes back a bit and is filled with some very meaningful moments. Feel free to read all about it on my blog and then go to the Sensible Shoes website to find out how you can buy a copy of the book that inspires so many.






The man who was kind enough to help me with photos
had never used a camera before and so didn't understand
the importance of getting the shoes in the photo.
Each of these children received a pair of sensible shoes.

These and so many other children in this area are in need of sensible shoes.
The one boy in the front who has two pair of shoes was so proud
that he owned these shoes he wanted to be in the picture too.
He is one of three children I saw who had a pair of shoes in this whole community.
Even several of the pastors who attended the workshop in the next blog post
didn't have their own shoes.

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Shading? What's That?

About 60 children were quietly seated on their rocks when I entered the very small one-room school. The darkness combined with their deep brown skin challenged me. I explained through an interpreter that I desired their help in making beautiful cards on which to send thank you notes and they were happy to help, though they really had no idea what it meant to send a card to a friend.

Armed with a box full of markers, crayons, and colored pencils, as well as some note cards already outlined with the shape of Africa (which the children could not identify) I invited them to begin. Shading? They had no idea what to do with this stick and paper in their hands. After showing them how to shade, and how to do it in a train to avoid turning every card to the color of clay, they quickly caught on.

Teachers in remote villages rarely have a blackboard let alone supplies for themselves to use as teaching aids. Children who, in the city would be required to wear a uniform, wear black shoes, and have books and pencils to write with come to school even without lunch. But they come, praise God!


So, think of these children in Ojigu when you receive your Africa-shaped thank you card. Remember they didn’t know what crayons were or what it meant to color or be creative. And remember that because of you they got a taste. Thank you!








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Saturday, June 28, 2014

Rachel & Chrystina's Jinja Adventure

I just loved the warp on this taxi.


Crossing the Owen Falls Dam







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Sole Hope

Sole Hope is a group of passionate, committed people who are putting closed toed shoes on African children, one pair at a time. Jiggers are a very serious problem in Africa and in a place where so many children don’t have shoes, even more serious. Check out their website to learn more about this organization.

We had the blessing of sleeping in their guest house and learning a bit more about what they do.


I received a box of dollies and was acquainting them
to Uganda while lounging in a wheelbarrow.







Looks like she's wearing a pillow case dress.
Anyone have the desire to make such dresses for some of my kiddos?



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