Mercy

A lot of people here think my name is Mercy.

It would be really touching if this was a name people gave me because I was just so especially merciful, but really it's just the fault of some cultural differences and my accent.

Here in Uganda people put their surname first when they introduce themselves. So, for example, if your name was Paul Yates, here in Uganda you would say that your name was Yates Paul.

I still introduce myself with my first name first and my last name last (old habits die hard, I guess!) so people assume that my last name is my first name. With my thick, nasal North American accent, Massey comes out sounding like Mercy.

Still, it's a good name to aspire to.

One community made me a welcome sign with their interpretation of my name on it. It's the thought that counts! I told the women in another community that my name meant "cow horn" and that made things much easier. The Karamajong certainly have a word for cow horn!

Stronger

A year ago today I was slinging my duffel bag into the trunk of our rental car to head to the airport, unexpectedly en route to South Sudan. I flew from Charlotte to New York, and then on to Amsterdam. Somewhere over the Atlantic, I woke up suddenly with the words, “love is stronger than death” burning and rolling over and over in my mind. I heard them almost audibly, and when I heard them I knew that Brian had gone to be with Jesus.

This is an awkward story to tell people because if sounds fake and overly sentimental, but that is what happened. I checked Facebook in the Amsterdam airport and found his wall filling up with words of love and grief and hope. A life well lived is mourned in a beautiful way. When someone leaves us, and one of our primary emotions is thankfulness- thankfulness that we had any time with them at all- that is beautiful. Brian lived his life beautifully, and the world is poorer without him.

 

I feel like I hardly have the right to miss him, so let me mark the anniversary of his passing here on this little blog that hardly anybody reads. I miss you, my one in a million friend. So thankful for your life. So thankful for a Love that conquers the grave.

Auld lang syne...

Favorite photo of 2012, taken in Yida, South Sudan.

Bye, bye, 2012. I would never have thought that I'd be sad to see you go, but I am. For better or for worse, I think it will be a good long while before I see the likes of you again.

Thirst...

I've been walking through a particularly painful season for many months now and the strain of it is bringing out all the worst in me. This has been hard, but I am learning not to put my hope in the idea that my circumstances will change, but rather to put my hope in the truth that I will change- for the better.

Thirst

Another morning and I wake with thirst

for the goodness I do not have. I walk

out to the pond and all the way God has

given us such  beautiful lessons. Oh Lord,

I was never a quick scholar but sulked

and hunched over my books past the

hour and the bell; grant me, in your

patience a little more time. Love for the

earth and love for you are having such a

long conversation in my heart. Who

knows what will finally happen or

where I will be sent, yet already I have

given a great many things away, expect-

ing to be told to pack nothing, except

the prayers which, with this thirst, I am

slowly learning.

-Mary Oliver-

Happy Valentine's Day!

....from South Sudan.

(Kissa, this is especially for you and Phil and the godchildren, of course. When are you going to get Facebook already? Just kidding.)

Some Yida scenes...

The maternity ward and the nutrition center.

Our swing in our tree in our compound.

Our grass office.

It's a long story...

...but here is my new home in the Yida transit camp in South Sudan. Further bulletins as events warrant.