Hair Cut

Maggie got her head shaved yesterday. Not because it is fashionable (although the majority of young girls in Uganda have shaved heads), but because she has a severe fungal infection all over her scalp. I took her to a clinic on Thursday and the attendant took one look at her and said she had an infection and that the medicine was going to cost close to $40. I said I would get a second opinion and left. Took her to the school clinic Friday and the nurse was very kind, told me exactly what she had, what to do about it and gave me an ointment and oral tablet she has to take for 30 days. It didn’t cost me a dime. In order for the ointment to work, she needed to get a hair cut. Off to the barber shop!

We walked up the hill from the school, Perez carrying Maggie on his back the whole way. We reached the top of the hill, called for boda boda’s and off we went. I didn’t think about it until we were already en route to the barber shop, but I had a fleeting thought of, what did I just do? I just popped my kids on the back of a motorcycle with no helmets, a complete stranger at the wheel and I shouted to my 9 year old saying, “You hold Maggie on OK?” while I hopped on a separate motorcycle. Like I said earlier, it was a fleeting thought, but it entered my mind nonetheless. I laughed about the adventure and, of course, repeated the same thing on the way home.

Found the barber shop and Maggie plopped down in the chair. The only issue was, getting your head shaved when you have hundreds of blister type sores on it can be very painful. The stylist did a great job cutting, but when it came to the end and he applied the soothing oil, it wasn’t so soothing. Maggie cringed up and her eyes filled with tears. I asked him if he could wipe it off and he did the best he could, but the damage was already done. She got over it quickly, but I felt really bad for her.

On the way back we stopped at the market, got a pineapple and some bananas and started walking back home. On the road down to the school we ran into the Ugandan version of the ice cream man. A happy older man was pushing a bike with garbage bags tied to the side and a large white bucket on the seat. In San Diego, you might think “that’s no ice cream man” if you know what I’m saying. Kids (and even adults) were gathering around him as he scooped out what looked like rainbow sherbet and placed it on cones. How can you resist rainbow sherbet on a hot day! I bought some for the kids and we continued on with smiles on our faces. Total cost for two scoops of sherbet on two cones? 1,500 shillings. About 50 cents. Now that’s the kind of prices I rave about!

It was a good afternoon for Perez and Maggie. They got to spend a little time together away from all the activity and other kids at the school. We are planning a few more outings like this, one of them may even involve swimming at the pool at a local hotel! Gotta find a suit for Maggie somewhere and then we will take the plunge!

From Uganda with Love,

Ali

Adoption Update

Things are slowing down a bit, unfortunately. As is often the case here, things come up...meaning everyday, things come up. Meaning multiple times a day, things come up that delay other things.

Here's the scoop. We can't get home until we have a visa. We can't get a visa until we have an interview. We can't get an interview until we turn in paperwork. We can't turn in paperwork until we have a passport. We can't get a passport until we have a typed ruling from the judge. We can't get a typed ruling from the judge until someone figures out what's going on with the computer network for the whole family court division! They promised one on Wednesday morning, then promised one on Thursday, then just found out they are "re"-promising one by Friday. Delays, delays. Not surprising, and totally expected in this neck of the woods, but frustrating none the less.

Our time line is getting very tight. Do-able, but tight.

More to come when I find anything out.

From Uganda with Love,

Ali

Goodbye Steve

At about 11:00 today we said a sad goodbye to Steve as he travels back to San Diego for one day, then off to Haiti for a week. This goodbye wasn't near as sad as the one that happened later in the evening. A young girl named Scovia came by the apartment and I told her that Steve had gone back today. She immediately dropped her head and started crying. I did my best to comfort her, but to no avail. You see, most of the older kids had been at another school today participating in a sports competition and weren't around when Steve left the school, meaning they didn't get a formal goodbye. Formal goodbyes are very important here.

It's interesting. In my observation of this culture, many people are detached from each other emotionally. Often times there is so much loss that it is easier to not attach to someone in the first place. If you don't attach, you don't hurt when that person leaves or dies. When you do attach, the together times are so much better, but the away times are so much more painful. Many children here don't allow themselves to be vulnerable enough to attach to someone. And if by chance they do, they are not practiced enough in dealing with emotional loss that the pain seems unbearable.

Scovia has a huge heart. She is very attached to her own biological dad, whom she sees only once a year. Steve is kind of a stand in for that dad when he travels here (and quite possibly, so are some of the other "dad" like figures that stay in this apartment). She has allowed herself to love us and we have only multiplied that love a million times. Her hurt was real and deep.

Steve, you are loved all around the world and back again. We will be missing you while we finish out our trip here.

From Uganda with a tearful child full of love,

Ali

Court Ruling

The judge gave a positive ruling. Not quite in the mood to hash out all the details, but regardless of his position on our case, which he made abundantly clear in both the hearing and ruling, he granted our request favorably for Maggie. No explanation there except that God is making a way for her.

Yes, that is the first hurdle and we made it over that one. The embassy is the second and even bigger one. If all our paperwork goes as planned, we will be in the embassy Monday afternoon for Maggie's visa interview. I will have to go alone because Steve is going back. Not an ideal situation, but it's what we've got. This is more difficult because Maggie doesn't fit orphan status. We have to make a defense as to why they should give us a visa regardless of the written law. It could be very messy.

In the midst of all this, I really believe that whatever is God's plan for Maggie and our family will play itself out in an efficient and timely manner...and I don't just mean her coming home with us. I mean WHATEVER happens. God is good.

From Uganda with love,

Ali

The Rat: part 3

Of course you knew there would be more to this story right? Rats don't live alone. Woke up this morning to find bigger and even more rat droppings on the counter, in the bedrooms etc. They are coming back with revenge for their brother.

From Uganda with a plan to buy more rat traps,

Ali

The Rat: part 2

We don't hunt. We don't celebrate death. But this is a rat and we could live with this little guy no longer. It took several days and the help of 10 year old Muwanguzi Mike (He told us Ugandans don't fear rats...after watching us jump up on the furniture) to bring him down. There was laughter, broken furniture and a master plan. And it worked. Good bye our little night dwelling friend.

When is God good

In a few hours we will receive the ruling from our judge, and I’m troubled. I’m troubled by what I have perceived in the last few days as a prevailing theology as it relates to the goodness of God. It goes something like this, “If and when I get what I am hoping for, then my resounding response will be, God is good!” But when the outcome is something other than what I hoped for, is God still good. Do I keep fighting until I get my way (and then say God is good)?

Is God good only when I get my way? Do outcomes and circumstances dictate my view of God? Many will quickly answer “no,” but these days I am having to check myself.

Last night, we were sitting on the roof of our apartment watching the Ugandan sunset, and Ali shared this verse. This is so good. So helpful.

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? Look on me and answer, O Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death; my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,” and my foes will rejoice when I fall. But I will trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me. Psalm 13

I don’t like the silence of Christians when things aren’t going the way that we had hoped. Why can’t we shout that God is good even when our circumstances are not? Ali and I have been discussing these things while waiting to hear from the judge. How we respond matters to us. We want to believe that whatever happens in this adoption, that it is of God, and we will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to us, whatever the outcome may be. Sure, one outcome will generate a more positive emotion than the other, but it will not change that God is good.

When is God Good? As they say here in Uganda, "All the time!"

From Uganda with love,

Steve

The Rat

The week before we travelled here, we had lunch with a guy who has travelled to Uganda a few times and (come to find out a few days ago) just received word that the daughter they are trying to adopt from here just got her visa approved. Yay a thousand times over! As great as that is, that’s not the point of the introduction. At lunch, he was giving us a few pointers about the apartment, what is currently not working and what they left in a few suitcases in case we needed anything. He also warned us that while his wife was here, they were having rat issues. He mentioned an electric mouse trap they left at the apartment. Mental note: rats...find the rat trap immediately.

A few days ago, while waking at 4:30 am to the sound of plastic water buckets banging around at the water well, I was properly introduced to the rodent spoken of in the above paragraph. Being that it was 4:30 in the morning, it was still dark. I walked out toward the kitchen and saw the shadow of a scurrying rat on the counter. Of course, I ran back in the room and jumped on the bed. I don’t know what it is about rats, but I’ve never met one who hasn’t caused even the bravest man to jump up on something to get his feet off the floor.

Needless to say, the last five days we have been doing everything possible to catch it. Peanut butter in an electric trap, cardboard boxes, brooms and dustpans, even sugar cane used as a giant rat swatter. I wish I could post a picture of the thing stuck in a trap and dead, but, unfortunately, he remains at large. Two nights ago we were all sitting in the living room with Perez’s niece (16 year old niece to be exact...figure that one out) and a little girl named Leah and I watched the thing sneak in the front door. The next 25 minutes we launched an all out rat-hunt complete with plenty of jumping up on furniture, shrieks (both human and rat), brooms swinging wildly, cabinets being jostled, and finally the laughter and relief of watching the thing squeeze its way back out the door.

Since that night, we have shoved a towel under and between the front door each night and never gone more than a few minutes with the door open. We have seen him three times eyeing us from his hole above our staircase, just waiting for us to give him an inch. This morning I woke to the sound of plastic being ripped open and came out in the kitchen to see Steve breaking into a package of glue traps. These are the nasty kind. The kind of trap where the rat doesn’t die, he just sticks there squealing and staring up at you with beady black eyes begging for you to give him a second chance.

I’ll be sure to post the picture when we get him.

Morally Upright

I know, I know. By the sounds of the title you think I might lecture about some spiritual practice we should emulate in the states. Or maybe you think this is a post from Steve. Incorrect by both of those measures. This is actually a post about food.

For the last 5 years we have been happily walking around town going to open air markets and munching on the produce we buy there on our walk back. Yesterday, we stopped doing that. We were walking with our good friend Godwin on the way back from doing sponsorship work in a town called Lugazi. We stopped at a street side vendor to buy chapati, which is very similar to a tortilla, only a little thicker, and it is often eaten by itself. If cooked fresh, they are awesome! We bought three and passed them out to myself, Steve and Godwin. Godwin wrapped his up and put it away. Steve asked if he was hungry and he said yes, but that he doesn’t eat and walk. We thought it may have something to do with it being a safety hazard on chaotic streets. You always want to be paying attention around here so you don’t get side swiped by a boda boda or fall into the rain ditch carved into the side of the road. He said it has nothing to do with that, but that eating and walking is not morally upright. He related it back to the bible where people are taught to sit down and break bread together. Even within the school we work at, they are taught the same thing. This explained a lot for me in regards to observations I’ve made over the past years. This also gave me reason to put my chapati away until I returned to the school. I already stand out enough in this culture, I don’t want to point more attention to myself especially when it deals with morality. For the past five years in Uganda, we have been living a life of immorality...and Steve calls himself a pastor! Unbelievable!

From Uganda with food in my pockets,

Ali

Blowing some dust off the history books

“Babirye” is the name given to the first born of a set of twins if the first born is a girl. Maggie was given that name. According to information from the mother, Maggie’s twin died a few months after the birth. They were born at home and received no immediate care.

We have since learned some interesting information about twins. Our lawyer shared with us that often times if a twin dies, it is considered bad omen to talk about the one that has passed. This explains a little for us. Last year when we learned about her name, we asked if she had a twin. Everyone said no. Turns out, they didn’t want to wish ill will on the Maggie, the living child, by speaking of the one that had died.

Good information for us and definitely part of the story God has written for Maggie. We are still in waiting mode in regards to the adoption. Not much we can do but look forward to a positive ruling on the 27th. We fully believe that if this is what God has in mind for our family, then He will make an easy path for us. In the meantime, we have been busy with the children in the sponsor program. We are working on update photos, letters, and interviews for new children. I have seen many of your sponsored kids already and they all send their greetings. It is so amazing for me to have seen these kids repeatedly over the last 4 or 5 years and watch them grow right in front of the eye of the camera. I do my best to remember almost all 325 of the kids names, and they do their best to cooperate with me when taking their photo. They remember me and I remember them. It is an amazing relationship.

From Uganda with Love,

Ali

Ripped off at the Coline Hotel

For those of you that know Uganda, we just got officially ripped off at the Coline Hotel. Ok, I guess that isn't fair. They didn't raise the prices just because we were there. We payed the same that everyone does. However, we spent 162,000 Ugandan Shillings. Yes, you should be in shock. That is the equivalent of $70 US for fried chicken, french fries, tilapia and juice. Based on what we learned in church this morning, we could have spent that money and payed for half a pillar to aid in the construction of a new building for True Vine church! We have eaten at the Coline many times on past trips. This year, they raised their prices. BY ALOT. I believe we have decided to boycott this hotel and only eat food from local markets and restaurants, which means we will be making a heck of a lot of veggie stir fry.

We are really having some stomach issues now...and it isn't from eating bad food, if you know what I mean. I haven't come anywhere near spending that much money on a meal in the last year in America, much less an impoverished nation where almost everything is cheap. It makes me sick. Rice and veggies for us tonight!

From Uganda with a lighter wallet,

Ali

The Fruit of My Labor

Let’s stand up and give a rowdy round of applause to all the women around the world who wash their clothes by hand! [APPLAUSE]

I spent my Saturday morning the same way many women in Uganda do. I cleaned the apartment, made our beds and washed our clothes. The only difference is that we have no machine. Wanting to fit in as much as possible, I chose to wash Perez and Maggie’s clothes myself. Many women offered to do it for me, but I replied that I wash my own clothes in America. “By hand,” one women questioned with a smile. “No” I said laughing. “I am capable, though.” “You will get sores here” she said, pointing to the skin close to the knuckles. “I don’t mind,” I replied. “You will after a few washes” she said. We both laughed.

After a few hours and only a few pieces of clothes I resolved to do the rest tomorrow! No sores yet, but the detergent here is very strong. I’m sure I will have a few by the next wash. Many thoughts on culture in regards to this but it only makes me love it here all the more. There is something so real and hardworking and earthy about this place that it enlivens my spirit.

From Uganda with love and some raw hands,

Ali

A small taste of our life right now

Court Day

Talk about emotional overload. Not all bad, just too much of it. Maggie stayed overnight at the school last night. Because today was court day and our driver was going to collect us at the school, she didn’t go home in the morning. Also, because of that, she had no clothes to wear to court today except an old skirt and torn shirt. This was great news for me! I had bought her a dress, but wasn’t sure if I should give it to her. I am very cautious with those things, not wanting to step on the toes of the mother. I came to the dorm she was staying in and showed her the dress. Her eyes got huge. “For me?” “Yes, Maggie. All for you.” She knelt down as the girls are taught and looked up with glimmering eyes.

I helped her get dressed. A bright yellow sweater over the top of a black, yellow and white floral dress. So stinking adorable. AND it fit her perfectly. Love it!

We drove to court for a briefing. We rode with Maggie and her mother. I know we have so much to say to each other but no common language to share it in. I’ve resolved to start learning Luganda even if only for the sake of communicating with the mother’s of my children. At the same time I was processing this, I couldn’t help but give notice to all the other thoughts swirling around my brain about how difficult this must be for Maggie’s mom. I seriously can’t even give words to how I was feeling in the moment. My eyes just welled up and I did everything I could to keep them from dripping down my cheeks. First of all, to come to grips with the fact that you have a terminal disease as brutal as aids, must be so difficult. Secondly, to know that two of your children have already died because of the disease, is even more difficult. Last of all is the fact that you understand your situation so well that you would give up the youngest to spare her the suffering she will someday have. The strength of character this mother has is unlike any I have ever seen. We would do well to emulate even the tiniest bit of what she has to offer.

Getting on to court. Everything seemed somewhat tense. The father had to appear in court. However, he has not been around the mother or Maggie in years. Turns out he is often drunk, violent, and refused (up until today) to take a blood test for HIV. He hasn’t shown up to anything else our lawyer has asked of him. As you can imagine, things were slightly awkward. Not necessarily between us and him, but the whole situation. Court itself was also tense. I don’t know how they do it, but those judges manage to make everything feel so intense. The power dynamic that seeps out of those courtrooms is sickening. If we could actually have the chance to talk with the judge like the human he is, not the untouchable authority he presents as I think things would seem so much better. But, not the case. We sat in the courtroom, listened to him say why he was challenging our case and left. I’ve got to be honest with you, I couldn’t disagree with anything he said. I will save details for personal conversation, or maybe for the next blog, but, needless to say, we walked out of the courtroom not necessarily thinking everything went too well. Our case now hinges on the positive blood test of BOTH of the parents. We will find out tomorrow about that issue when lab reports are returned and we will have our ruling on March 27th.

We sat in a cafe across the street while waiting for our driver and tried to process the everything. Mixed emotions run deep. I pray that God is working things out in our spirits and he gives us peace. Tonight I pray that same prayer for the mother and father who have sacrificed their selves to give their youngest daughter a second chance at life.

From Uganda with Love and Tears,

Ali

A second home

Kampala. Capital of Uganda and home to 1.6 million people...and also our home for the next two days. Everything we do in regards to Maggie’s adoption will take place in Kampala. We traveled there today to register with the US Embassy. The journey typically takes 45 minutes, but we’ve done it in 20 (with my eyes closed and my knuckles turning white). Our driver Martin even wore his sunglasses to appear to the police as a bodyguard for some important Americans. Ha! As is also the case in Southern California, it could take two hours with traffic. The only difference is that the definition of traffic is drastically different. If you have ever been to Africa before you get my drift.

We showed up 10 minutes past Embassy closing time and they still saw us. We had a very positive meeting with two women who checked our paperwork and gave us a document to take to the medical appointment on Friday. As far as we know, neither of those women have any pull in our visa case at all, but it was still good to see a little compassion for Maggie’s story and a positive attitude towards our case. We had about two hours to kill before meeting with our lawyer, also in Kampala, so our driver, Richard, dropped us off at a shopping mall. We grabbed a bite to eat. Hamburgers and pizza!! Funny, but in a mall in the middle of the capital, yes, you can get those types of food. We realized how developed Kampala is in comparison to Mukono where we spend most of our time. Even more drastic is the difference between that and the villages we visit.

We hopped a boda (motorcycle taxi) to our lawyers office of which we only had a business card with address to give them any clue where we were going. After asking around and showing the card to about 5 or 6 other drivers, we finally said all we know is that it is somewhere by the airline offices. That rang a bell. We felt slightly Amazing Race-ish at this point and were enjoying the adventure. Hopping on the back of a motorcycle with a sweaty black man in the middle of an overcrowded foreign city is always a welcome adventure in my books! Needless to say, we made it to our lawyers office where we spent time reviewing our case, making changes, pointing out errors, etc. The person who puts the papers together, Rebecca, is very sharp. She noticed a few things we didn’t and gave us advice about the particular judge we will be seeing.

So, tomorrow is court day. We are as ready as we will ever be and know that God is going ahead of us to soften the heart of the judge and give us a quick and positive ruling. We will leave at 9. Have a briefing with the parents and lawyers at 11. Arrive at court at 1 and have our hearing at 2. Sometime in the midst of that, we will get Maggie’s passport photos, go to another clinic to obtain a medical record for the mom and try to persuade the father to take an HIV test. Some of these may be easy, some may not.

In the meantime, we are spending time with the kids here and getting to know our daughter better. She is amazing. Can’t wait to introduce you to her.

From Uganda with Love,
Ali

Safe and Sound

We made it! Travel was long and uneventful. Perez is a champ when it comes to long flights...maybe because he can watch movies and play video games ‘till his eyes cross. We were met at the airport by good friends and Perez’s mom from Uganda. Through a mix of body language, tiny bit of English, and some much needed translation, we spent the time talking about Perez and showing videos and photos. It is always good to be greeted by people we love in a country we love!

Pulled up at the school and were immediately surrounded by hundreds of kids. Some familiar faces we know and love and some new faces we will grow to love. The kids grabbed our luggage (as is custom in Uganda...their hospitality is amazing) and loaded it in the apartment. We then spent the next few hours with Maggie, and of course about 50 other kids. Much more to say later when my eyelids aren’t drooping so low, but let’s just say Maggie is a personality alright! She is sweet and full of spunk. Looking at her tonight just made me realize that if this doesn’t go through right now, there is gonna be some major heartbreak to deal with.

From Uganda with love,

Ali

Excited and Tired

Somehow, even though we have known about this trip for just over three weeks, things get left undone until the very last minute. We are tired already and we haven't even left!! The thing that keeps us going is the excitement of traveling to a place that warms our souls. Through long "to do" lists and more adoption forms and trying to cover things while we are gone, we are finally making it to the end of preparations. We leave on Sunday, arrive on Tuesday, court visit Thursday. There are plenty of other things taking place in the next week, but please keep these things in mind.

Thanks to everyone who has offered to help us prepare. I know I haven't taken many of you up on that, but I truly appreciate the offer! We will be posting (hopefully more inspiring things than this) as often as possible.

From Uganda (ALMOST!) with love,

Ali

Update Number Two

This will be short. I'm tired. I found out today that Maggie returned to school and is doing very well. So good to hear.

I also found out that as much as I want to say that I'm not feeling stressed...I am. A small issue with a camera lens was the tipping point of an emotional meltdown of tears and incoherent ramblings that led to an unproductive early afternoon (that needed to be very productive in order to get things ready for a month long trip) where I felt like I just needed to sit and process all the things I was feeling in my heart. That unproductive early afternoon set the stage for an unproductive late afternoon of not going to Costco or Office Depot but traipsing around the beach barefoot with my son and a video camera. The interesting thing about the whole day is that I actually learned something. You know, sometimes we just have these bad days where they pass by and all you can say is "Man, that day sucked." But not today. Today, my son taught me something I seem to have forgotten this week. Running around on the sand on a windy, cold day, with rolled up wet jeans unleashes something healthy in my soul. Watching wildness and freedom dance around in the body of my 9 year old Ugandan child enlightens my spirit even more.

My mom has a sign in her guest bedroom that says "I come to the sea to breathe." And today, that is what I did. I came to the sea to breathe.

Sitting on the edge of our trunk wiping the sand from our feet, Perez looked at me in a way that our hearts collided before our words could. "I needed that," he said. "Me, too, Son. Me, too."

From Uganda (and the San Diego shore) with Love,

Ali

Provision

When we least expect it, but need it the MOST, God provides. I know it sounds cliche, but the reality of that truth brought us to tears yesterday. Thanks to the Feng Li Li foundation, we received our requested grant amount in full. Thanks to Bank of America we received an unexpected deposit into our account from a long overdue cash back rewards program. Thanks to God, we just might come out of this adoption without sinking financially.

Let's back up a few months. We did a financial favor for someone who was in a bind. They vowed to pay us back immediately. As part of our belief that God desires us to be generous and servant-minded, we helped out without a second thought. That favor came back to bite us. After more phone conversations and emails than I can count and repeatedly unfulfilled promises to pay us back, we have yet to receive a dime. This caused a problem. Not only did it max out a credit card we needed to use to pay for airplane tickets to Uganda to pick up Maggie, it started to eat at us. We realized that our selfless act of service had turned into a selfish game of payback. We hated that. In the midst of knowing that we couldn't afford plane tickets because of this one particular issue, we knew that God hated our attitudes. We decided to totally give it up and take it as a loss. We wrote the person, explained that, although we still wanted to be payed back, we were done playing the game and our integrity and right attitudes were more important than the money. Essentially, we released that completely to God and that burden of bitterness was taken away. We had no idea how we were going to buy airline tickets. We took things into our own hands and started exploring every possible way to buy the tickets. To no avail.

Back to the present. We currently have all our tickets booked, all our stateside fees payed and only a small amount left to pay our Ugandan lawyer. It's very humbling when God shows up in the midst of what we say we have control of. Things are working out. Since moving here, we have always said that God will provide. Considering our circumstances, there have been plenty of times for just that. This is one of them. We lean into the belief that God is providing for us in ways unimaginable. We are humbled to tears that on the heels of letting go of this situation that left us financially incapable of traveling to Uganda for Maggie, God shows up. We are undeniably grateful.

Update and CD Release Party/Fundraiser

We have an update! Got word today that Maggie is recovering and should be out of the hospital by the end of the day. Sounds like she had a very severe strain of malaria and possibly typhoid. We were told that she is now out of bed and walking around. Such good news! Thanks for all of your prayers.

In other news (very good news), we just returned home from a benefit event for Maggie. We applied for a grant from the Feng Li Li Foundation, an organization that funds adoptions of abandoned children into Christian homes. The story that was the inspiration for the foundation is both heartbreaking and hope giving. Check out fenglili.org on the About Us section to read about it. The brain child behind this specific funding for Maggie is a 16 year old girl, Laura Valentine, the daughter of the founders. She is a singer and just realesed her first CD. Her CD release party was a concert/birthday party/fundraiser for Maggie. She shared her own adoption story of 16 years ago in China and urged every attendee to donate to Maggie's cause to create another beautiful story. I sat next to a member of the board of the foundation who shared that her 7 year old daughter has been drumming up money for Maggie at her school for the last month through bake sales and car washes. To say it was an honor to be at this event is an understatement. To see the heart of God played out through so many people is truly amazing. THANKS to all who attended, donated and loved on us through this event. Our hearts are overflowing. Not only is it part of our story, but it is a very meaningful beginning to Maggie's. THANK YOU! Check out laura-valentine.com or fenglili.org

Ugandan Hospital

No cause for alarm, but Maggie was recently admitted to a hospital in Uganda. Many of you have been informed of the news and are awaiting an update. Unfortunately, we don't have one. We are making the assumption that if something terrible had happened, we would have been notified. But again, that is an assumption. We have attempted contact, but it is not always as easy as a phone call. Things happen over there. No cell service, no minutes, not the right time of day, phone cuts out, no internet service, no power and on and on. Seems that when all you want to do is hear that your daughter is back at home and is getting better, that is the time when things just don't work the way you want them to. Go figure.

Based on our past experiences with sick children in Uganda, one is only admitted to a hospital if one is in dire need of care. Many children suffer for days on end, getting worse and worse each day, while the parents exhaust every avenue of aid. A hospital is the last resort. And to complicate things even more, medical care does not necessarily mean everything will turn out fine. I can't say for a fact for all hospitals, but the ones I have visited in Uganda do not seem to be offering top notch care. No disrespect intended, it is just the unfortunate reality of trying to run a hospital with limited funds and limited resources in an impoverished nation. The haunting truth is that most parents in this part of Africa can't even afford medical care and will often, literally, have to watch their children die. In Uganda, coffin shops are just as prevalent as American coffee shops. It is a common sight in markets and roadside vending...and we're not talking 6ft pine boxes, friends, we're talking small ones, like the size of a suitcase.

Malaria is the number one killer of children in sub-saharan Africa. We mentioned to a Uganda friend of ours that malaria doesn't even exist in America. He doubled over laughing. When he finally stood up and looked us in the face, he realized we weren't joking. He was in complete shock. It is a way of life for them. Disease and death are rampant.

A quick memory: our first year in Uganda I had a similar task as I do now, I interview and photograph the children that are entering the sponsor program. It was our second day of work and a family came with two young children. I photographed the first child, noting that it was difficult to get him to focus on the camera and pay attention to what was happening. After his photo, he slumped in a white plastic chair and his father handed him an orange soda with a straw. I also noted that an hour and a half later, he was still in the chair, head propped on the back rest with more than half his soda still in the bottle. Something is wrong. You give a kid a soda in that country and it is sucked up before you have time to wipe the sweat of your brow. He left with his family shortly after that. We received word 8 hours later that that little boy, Mike, had died. His funeral was the next day. I was invited to attend. I couldn't bring myself to go.

Many people ask me if, in a country like that, where death is an every day occurrence, if people just get used to it. Like if the emotional impact of your family dying gets easier with every child. My answer is an emphatic no. No amount of death eases a mothers pain in burying her own child. She still covers her ears at the sound of dirt clods thumping the coffin. She still sings Amazing Grace in a deep alto as if she has never sung it before. She still mourns and wails and cries out to a God who seems to have forgotten her. But He hasn't. He cradles her in the orange dirt she kneels on and wipes the tears of the child who is coming home to Him. We want to think she's stronger because of it, but she's not. Each death tears at the seams of her heart. Her eyes cloud over a little more and she makes a deeper footprint when she walks. But she is to be regarded carefully. It may not be she that grows stronger from each death, but those of us who chance to pass by as the burial commences. We are forever changed.

From Uganda with love,

Ali