Our sweet friend.

It’s a Saturday afternoon in 1996 and James and I (newlyweds ourselves) are walking in to the Dues home.  Trenda greets us at the door and says in her super sweet voice, “come on in” giving us both a hug and says we are downstairs watching the game. The Game, can only mean one thing, a University of Kentucky Basketball game.  

Larry was a UK fan. 

Larry says, hi kids! And quickly brings us up to speed on the game.

And it is then that we fall comfortably onto their sofa and more importantly, into their lives.  Their open hearted welcome to us, 2 kids,  will forever hold deep affection and value in our hearts. We were married young and lived away from both our families. We found out soon after meeting the Dues that they both had remarried fairly recently too and we then were affectionately referred to as their  “kids” together. And for us they became a second set of parents.  

Mom and Dad Due.

Our lives quickly became entwined, us driving up from Berea while I was still in college, to stay Saturday nights with them before heading out to church together on Sunday mornings after having breakfast together. This continued for almost a year until we moved to Louisville. When we did move, Larry drove his truck and they came to help us move our few things. We had gotten into a routine when we were staying with them,  we’d arrive in the afternoon, Larry would be busy studying his pharmacy books and preparing for the test to become licensed again as a pharmacist and then we’d watch some basketball on tv. They’d take us out for pizza or barbecue, or Trenda would cook some delicious meal. Sometimes in the evenings after dinner Larry would read the Scriptures to us or tell us what he had been studying lately.  These were sweet beginnings of our friendship.

When we found out I was pregnant with Sarah, we told them they were going to be grandparents again.  They were able to rejoice with us. And they were at the hospital while I was in labor and after Sarah was born. Larry liked to tell the story of James trying to pick up Sarah for the first time out of the bassinet, attempting multiple times with a football hold before actually scooping her up. He would laugh every time he told the story.

As successive kids were born and common sicknesses occurred, we would often call Larry to make sure about the doctors prescriptions or go to the pharmacy where he was working to get the medicine filled. It didn’t matter that it was out of our way, what mattered was the comforting effect of him taking the time to explain to us the dosages and reassuring that the child would be fine. Including the day we left America for Zambia. Larry and Trenda came to our house to see us off and we had just finished breakfast and were trying to get some of the kids to take their malaria pills. It was the first time, some kids were gagging and crying and us parents were stressed out, saying stop crying just take the medicine! I remember so clearly, Trenda comforting the crying kids and Larry very gently and sweetly took the pills and crushed them up to put into the applesauce or peanut butter and helped them take their medicine.

Larry was Gentle and Tender.

When Ian was born, Larry would hold him and call him cheeks…he did have big cheeks. Caleb he called Smiley.

Later as Ian grew up I would be looking for him after church and find him in deep conversation with Larry. His bible tucked under his arm, just as Larry’s was. Larry didn’t seem bored or tired or trying to get away from a talkative kid.  The same could be said for Grace on our last visit home to see them. She talked and talked to him and his little dog, and he just kept smiling and listening. They took the kids to Dairy Queen and Larry had to reassure Jackson several times that he really could get whatever he wanted to eat.  

Larry was so patient and really loved children.

He always was sharing with us the newest pictures of his kids and grandkids and telling us what they were up to in their lives. He was a proud father and grandfather.

Larry LOVED his family. And he loved his Trenda. 

He loved to tease and joke with her. I could see the admiration in his eyes for her even the last time we met in December.The kids and I were sharing memories yesterday, and they recall him sweetly calling her “Trenny”.

We shared so many things of our daily lives together, but I think the Bible Study we had at our house before we moved to Zambia was uniquely special for Larry. He and James would meet together for coffee and talk about it, they had dreamed of it for years. Larry knew God’s word and loved it. He studied it so much, read so many books and listened to thousands of sermons over the years. He knew so much of God’s word and yet was one of the most humble men I have ever met. When asked to teach some of the lessons he would usually defer feeling unqualified and unworthy. But looking back today at that time, out of all of us in that study who taught or could have taught I think he truly was the most worthy. He took God seriously and His Word seriously. He was the most gracious, he had the heart and compassion of Jesus, the brokenness for sin and a tenderness of dealing with other people.

As he got older he and Trenda both would tell us with all the doctrine and theology that was known and all the various teachings of churches, at the end of the day what he wanted and needed was simply Jesus. On a few occasions with tears in his eyes, he would say just give me Jesus. 

And as I write this now tears filling mine I can say

He now has Jesus.

Fully and Completely.

No more pain, sorrow or despair.

I can picture his big smile and amazement of being with Jesus now. He finished his race, he was faithful to the end and his life will forever be remembered by those he touched and welcomed into his own life.  We are so blessed for Larry being a part of our lives.  

Reflections on the HOPE Ministry

10 years ago we started the HOPE ministry, shortly after moving to Zambia. Orphan Care was very much on my heart and whether we were really prepared to jump right into that, or not…we did!

Initially, we were helping an existing ministry in Ndola with their orphan care program, by connecting sponsors to specific children. Since it was a challenge to maintain that support from the distance of Lusaka, we decided to focus on our city and started HOPE Kabanana in Lusaka, with 10 children. We provided for their school fees and lunches, bought schoolbooks and uniforms for them and then also took care of some medical and hygiene needs. The ministry grew and several more children were added to the program. Some kids dropped out, some were removed from the program and more were added.

After several years, the church in Kabanana took over their own support of their orphans and HOPE transitioned to become “Helping Orphans. Providing Education”. We then put all our efforts into helping a different impoverished church in George Compound to care for their orphans and vulnerable children. We also have had opportunities along the way to support a girl’s home over last year and to give assistance in one-time gifts of kitchen cabinets and help with electrical work.  Over the course of the 10 years of HOPE, several buildings were established.

In Kabanana, 2 classrooms, a main hall, kitchen and office were built through funding tied with HOPE.  In George, a well was dug to provide clean and safe water. 2 classrooms were built, as well as a kitchen and office and then most recently a toilet block with proper sanitation. All these buildings and projects were built with funds provided by donors.

Many people have given so generously over all these years to support HOPE. Over the last 10 years I have estimated a total of about 100 children that have at one point been involved with HOPE. Whether it was short lived, such as Nathan a student only needing help for their final years of secondary school or a first grader, Memory who has been with us since her first days in school. This past week I was with her getting her enrolled in 10^th grade, and I am committed to seeing her finish her 12^th grade. 

Through HOPE, children and their guardian’s lives have been impacted.  For some it was briefly, for others it has been almost “life-long”. We have had sick kids, malnourished kids, kids living with HIV, as well as strong healthy kids who have been motivated to make for themselves, a better life. We have tried throughout, but certainly failing at times, to show the love of Jesus to the children. When we fail and when they fail our goal was still that they still would see forgiveness and mercy in Christ.

After 10 years, the time came for the HOPE non-profit to close. I am now left with a mixture of emotions. I look back and think nothing was done in vain. It is not that I see every child of the 100 as a success story, not even close. Sometimes it has been discouragement after discouragement. Kids getting pulled into the destructive lifestyle that they see around them of drugs and dropping out of school, teenage pregnancies and lying and stealing.

Starting a charity in a foreign country is definitely a challenge. It really is one that we knew nothing about until we were here on the ground doing it. Which then inevitably means some mistakes were made along the way. Sometimes the plans and methods we employed were not the best for the culture, sometimes our help actually ended up enabling certain behaviors in the children or in their guardians and sometimes we ended up with kids feeling a sense of entitlement. That was never our intent, but we have learned that giving aid to people can often hinder them.  It doesn’t mean you don’t help, but over time you realize the help changes its form.

As I look back over the 10 years, helping and encouraging and giving to others were the driving forces of HOPE.  We set out to provide opportunities for vulnerable and orphaned children to grow and learn and receive an education and medical care. 

With  HOPE,

Kids were fed.

And they went to school.

Kids learned about sanitation and

For the first time used a proper toilet.

Kids learned to read

Kids heard the gospel of Jesus

Kids were hugged

Kids were loved

Kids were given gifts, by strangers

Kids experienced laughter and joy

And I trust that in all these things that were done they saw the love and care of  Jesus for them. We might have been in the forefront of the care, but it is through the donations that we were able to do any of it. SO, for all those that have supported HOPE in its various forms over this past decade, We ALL say thank you!

WHAT just happened?!?! (10 years in Zambia!)

There are so many ways this blog could go. Things learned, things loved, things hated, things lost, things regained, perspectives changed, lives improved, love endured…it seems so superficial and kind of impossible to try and reflect on our 10 years here.  Should I recount each year and major milestones in our lives? The lowest and highest points of our lives?  The few times I have questioned, why are we even in this 'God-forsaken' Place?  Or, should I make a sweet video of pictures of us (white) people surrounded by all the needy (black) people, giving credence to the “white savior complex” that has been discussed in recent years?  Or, maybe I should just paste a smile on my face, fold my hands in my lap and quietly and humbly say the platitudes of, “ oh, it’s not really so hard to give up and endure here, because we are just ‘praising and loving Jesus?’”

Here's the thing...I do love Jesus. I do want to praise Him. But life in Zambia has not been easy.  These 10 years have been the most grueling of our lives.  Not without joy, not without love and not without happiness, BUT our patience, endurance and ultimately our faith has been tried, it has been tested. The fact that we are still here in this place and STILL loving each other even more, as a family IS a testimony to the Grace of God.  

Our first vehicle here was a 1998 Toyota Prado. It was bought for a ridiculously high amount partly because it was imported from South Africa by way of Tanzania, by way of Japan. The vehicle is solid.  It’s like a tank. It has taken us everywhere in this country and has kept us safe for 10 years. But, it has been through the wringer!  It has been a great family vehicle because it fit our whole family. Not necessarily comfortably, but there were 8 seatbelts; one of the 2 things we specified when ordering the car. It had to have seatbelts AND air conditioning. The Prado has hauled our kids back and forth to school, friends houses, activities, parties, movies, church and the stores.  It has carried many many suitcases – either visitors coming in or for ourselves going and coming from the USA. It has gone to the markets, and held many live chickens. MANY!  The Prado has driven through or around thousands and thousands of potholes on the road over the last 10 years, taking the hit each and every time.  It has traveled on safari many times, with our kids hanging out the window and sitting on top of the vehicle. It has also been sideways in a ditch when the road was washing away in a rainstorm. We were all standing outside in the rain while our vehicle was filling up with water. And, onlookers were stopping by to take pictures of us all, standing there. 

It remained steady during our unexpected mountain climb over real rocks, sandpits, a few boulders and actual burning logs. – Side note: We realized a few villagers pulled logs into the path sometimes burning as well so that the car would have to stop and then you’d have to find someone to help you move them out of the way, of which you would then “appreciate (i.e. PAY) them”.  What these villagers didn’t know is that my husband would call his older sons out of the car to help him and they would move it themselves! All of this was happening on route to what was supposed to be a de-stressing and relaxing family camping trip at Lake Tanganyika. The Prado has carried supplies for countless projects around the house, for community projects as well as off-roading in the bush to check out where we bought land and hope to build our own house some day. But the Prado is showing its wear and is extremely beat up. Dents and banged up places, holes and screws where siding has been replaced, scrapes on the vehicle, alterations have been made. Zambia has been rough on it, BUT it is still running. Still making it down the road.

 THIS IS US

So many times the last few years as I have looked at the state of the car, I see us.  We just sold it this week so maybe that has me more reflective. It feels a bit like a milestone.  Sometimes I am at a loss to explain why we are still here, why we even WANT to be here when things can be so incredibly hard.  Family and friends still don’t understand it. I don’t even understand it at times.

Is it that life here seems MORE real?

Is it that once we stepped away from our own self-absorbed lives, where the main goal was to hunker down and protect our children and ourselves from the “World” at large and we actually came up close and personal with real need and real human suffering that we knew that we couldn’t go back?

-Certainly we could have had that realization in America, many people do and make a great impact where they are in their own communities, but for us that happened here, in Africa.

Is it because we already established ourselves here and in an unexplainable way it feels like HOME?

Is it that the people we can so easily help and impact here, have become a secondary purpose that gives more meaning to our lives?

Is it the fact that our children have grown up vastly different than they would have and we are glad for that difference?

Is it the gratitude that is expressed for simple things that remind us of why we should ourselves be more grateful? Is that what pulls us?

Whenever you meet another expat, there is an unspoken sizing up of each other based on how many years they have lived here.  Judgments are made, and eligibility for friendships are determined all based on the answer to that innocent question, “oh how long have you been here in Zambia?” and “are you planning on staying?” Sometimes the person answering estimates based on wanting it to be longer because you know there is more street cred for that. Whether it’s the Peace Corp workers, Embassy employees or Missionaries, there is generally a 3 year cycle. At some point in those 3 years you think ok, I have made it, I can now understand this culture, get around the city comfortably, and not feel taken advantage of every time. But, then contracts end, “callings” on your life change, kids needs whether academically, medically or spiritually all compel to going ‘home’ and returning to America.  Those that stay past the 10 year mark seem to really be the ones who have not just changed their address but the entirety of their life. And those are the ones that you feel like have really ‘made it. ‘

Sometimes the newbies coming in don’t always understand what it was like living here before development.  (As I am certain I don’t understand what it was like to live here 20 years ago) Before there was availability of cheese and gelato. Before I could find good pasta or chocolate chips. Long before Woolworth’s brought in their food stores, there was Food Lover’s Market and the upscale Shoprite. The era of Shopping Malls being built everywhere in the capital city didn’t exist. And the Chinese had yet to come in and bring their China Malls, For the Love of Home and E Dargon (which we still think is a misspelling of dragon?) stores where now you can buy most any cheapy tacky thing that you want.  Coffee shops were rare, there was the one in town Coffee Talk on Cairo Road and Mimosa at Arcades. That was all. And way long before anywhere had free Wi-Fi and the country had escalators!

In 10 years, Zambia has developed.

But for all the development, there still are injustices though. For all the coffee shops there still are children living on the streets. For all the gelato and Chinese products there is still corruption and theft on so many levels that actually hurt the country. For the movie theaters that have been built and the 4G networks that have come into the country, there are still hundreds of churches teaching a false gospel that say if you just had more faith you wouldn’t be sick, or if you just give us money then God will bless you with a new job or healing.

And for all the roads that have been built for the last 3 years all over this country, making it easier to get from one place to another, there are still people that don’t know their HIV status passing it on to others and there are still way too many children, women and men dying because of poor medical care, lack of care or lack of money to gain access to that care.

Maybe that in itself is the answer.

10 years in and we are still here.

Maybe that is reason enough. 

Maybe it’s the little things and the big things all mixed up together.

-The singing of people driving by packed into the back of a truck standing together

-The smile of the man receiving an orange and a “God bless you” as he lays in his hospital bed

-The wide eyes of a child who has not seen you before peeking out from behind the mother as you walk through the compounds

-The ability of our children to not only interact with others not at all like them, but at times to want to help them

-The fact that one wants to work overseas in the foreign service in part because of her experiences growing up in Zambia, and that another wrote an essay for college applications titled, “Had I stayed in America”, recounting how grateful he was for his childhood in Africa.

-The woman at the market whose face lights up when I attempt a small conversation in Nyanja.

-The random t-shirt someone is wearing from the used clothing barrels that will remind you of something from another time.  This past week it was a T-shirt from a Trace Adkins Concert. I was sitting frustrated in traffic and just looked over and started smiling.

-Driving out of town and seeing the simplicity in the huts and clay buildings and the goats wandering the side of the road which reminds you to just stop and take a breath

-The beauty of the Zambezi River

-The elephants, hippos and giraffes. Seeing them in their real environment never gets old

-The smell preceding the first rain.

-And the first rain. It truly is glorious. So much tension and heat and frustration and angst seem to build up over months and that first real heavy rain comes and you feel so refreshed you just soak it in.

     We spent New Years Eve at a Safari lodge in Livingstone.  The clientele of the place mostly seemed to be everyone that has ever DREAMED of coming to Africa. Jetting in to see Victoria Falls, going on an awesome safari, maybe even doing a “village experience” where you can see how the villagers live. And just like that, a dream can be realized and off they go back to their lives in their own countries.  Everything was new and exciting for them, and when the DJ asked for song requests at the NYE party just after the stroke of midnight and we entered a new decade, the song requested was “I bless the rains down in Africa.”  We looked around at the Zambian staff and the few other African families also staying at the hotel and hesitated but then jumped right in with the song, singing and dancing. It’s a very emotionally stirring song, and to be there on the banks of the Zambezi River where you can see the Mosi-O-Tunya, (the Smoke that Thunders, coming off the Falls) you can't help but think all is right in the world and man, Africa is surely an awesome place!   It was fun to get caught up in it for a moment but at the end of the day, for us it was just another song on another night in a country that in a strange way has become “ours”.  

     I traveled a lot to the USA this past year. Each time I landed in Zambia, and stepped off the plane, climbed down the stairs, walked across the tarmac, felt the heat slap me in the face and smelled the dirt of the earth, I knew I was home.