"THE ANNIE PROJECT" RE: SOROTI

Just today the Lord laid on me to put a portion of this mentioned in the beginning of the Uganda book I'm writing, re-writing, re-adjusting.  I was amazed that He anticipated that I place a piece of Prologue at the beginning which I never would have anticipated.  SO, even though it isn't truly like this, it will be referred to mostly of Pastor Max and FAITH ministry.  When I wrote this portion, with is in 

Chapter 2 of the Life Gets

Complicated portion of the book, it gives an idea of when and where and how Cary will be going.  So, I'll pop that portion of the chapter in and you'll see how Cary is prodded to head that way.  More other things happen to her before it is in place, but this is the beginning of grabbing her heart to go.  Can't not share it, because the Lord laid this portion of the Uganda book on me today from a portion of "Annie" book.  Another new sense of intention from my Lord.  And it's a little too long, but sharing as I can.

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.....     Cary had decided to give herself a break.  For this day and probably the next, she was doing the least amount of work possible.  It was a vacation without leaving home.  Annie could either go out to eat with Luke or fix soup and sandwiches at home.  Cary wasn’t going to cook, period.  Cary was even pretending she couldn’t get on her email account.  She was reading, journaling, thinking, processing, dozing, and watching British comedies that made her laugh and think of the Brit friends she had been blessed with in England and Uganda.
     Around noon, Cary put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and poured a glass of cranberry flavored iced tea.  After enjoying this “lunch,” she planned to soak in the bathtub for an hour or so while she continued to unwind.
     The phone rang.  Cary was tempted to let the call go to voice mail, but, since she was standing right next to it waiting for the popcorn to finish popping, she gave in to the urge to pick up the receiver, and after saying“Hello”, she heard:
     “Cary, Pastor Max here.  How’re you doing today?”
     “I’m doing pretty well.  Relaxing, especially now that Christmas is over and Annie is back in school.  Spending some time getting caught up with my spirit life and giving my emotions some down time.  What’s up with you?”
     “Well, I just got a phone call.  We have a contact in Uganda who just let us know about a need.  It’s in the town of Soroti.  Do you know anything about this place?”
     “First off,” said Cary, “I know it’s a place I’ve never wanted to go.  About ten years ago, when James and I lived in Uganda and were preparing to come back stateside, a pastor asked us to go to Soroti to begin a school, teaching and administering it.  We didn’t even have to think twice about it.  We said ‘no’.”
     “Why?” Pastor Max asked.
     “We had been told there was only one phone in the town and no international connection.  I knew I’d have to travel at least sixty miles to call the kids and I just couldn’t handle that.  I was very homesick at the time and being buried so far away was something I couldn’t face.”
     “What about since then?  Do you know what’s been going on?”
     “I know that Joseph Kony and the LRA1 invaded the area a few months ago and the people have been suffering as a result.  I was just discussing this with my friend, Kim, a couple of weeks ago when she called.  She and her husband have Ugandan friends in that area.  However, we agreed we did not want to go there.  It’s a difficult place to live any time, but with this invasion it would be terrible in terms of housing, food and other basics. We agreed to pray for them and watch the situation carefully.  We know how to get money into the area, so helping that way is what we plan to do.” Cary paused.  “However, if you’re calling with a question like that, I expect you have something on your mind.”
     “Actually, I do,” said Pastor Max.  “An American relief worker connected with a Baptist outreach in Soroti has to come home because of a family emergency.  She doesn’t know how long she’ll need to stay, maybe a month, maybe as long as three months.  In the meantime, someone is needed to step into her place.  She’s helping distribute funds through an umbrella organization called FAITH that provides resources for Ugandan pastors who are coordinating food, medical, and other crisis help for the refugees.  The pastors and some of their staff can probably take over, but they are so overwhelmed with the needs this would be just one more job for them.  When I was called about this, I immediately thought of you.”
     Cary sighed, seeing all her plans for the immediate future crumble before her.  “Pastor, I don’t know.  As I said, I’ve never wanted to go there.  I feel like my hands are pretty full with Annie.  There’s a lot to think about.  I understand the need.  I really do.  But I’m sure there’s someone out there who’s a lot better equipped to help than I.  When do you need to know?”
     Pastor Max said, “As soon as possible.  FAITH will pay for the plane ticket and provide enough money up front to get there.  They will give you access to their Uganda account.  Any money you spend out of your own pocket will be reimbursed.  They are really very well run, so, unlike the horror stories you’ve probably heard over and over about people who reach someplace and then are basically stuck, this should go smoothly.”
     “I can’t see myself going, not right now, but I’ll pray about it.  I’ll let you know within a couple of days.”
     “If you do decide to go, how soon do you think you could leave?”
     Cary thought.  “Well, I suppose I could be ready to go within a couple of weeks.  If it’s something God wants me to do, then I’m pretty sure he’ll bring the rest of it into place.”
     Pastor Max said, “I’ll wait to hear from you.  I trust you to hear from God.  Talk to you later.”

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"ANNIE" GRABBED AGAIN.... FOR FUN!

These photos were a suggestion by Susan Jones, because she thought it would be good to have the "older" Annie stand there holding the book, and that  "old" Annie could look similar to "young" Annie.  Well, she didn't think at all that it would be nice to see "Annie" looking mad, but I did it first.  A Tough Cookie.  THEN I gave a less fussy look and it came out better, over all.  So, I've showed you a couple of them.   

AND most of you know the book, "The Annie Project", is the one I wrote and has been published about 3 months ago.  So it truly is a "me" fixing time.  Thanks for putting up with me.  Couldn't not share this, hoping people would be laughing.

PORTLAND AVENUE BAPTIST CHURCH, TACOMA, WA.

I've shared this salvation issue many times over the years.  When in Tacoma, and driving or going around and about, I always try to see this church.  In mid-March, 1966, the Lord sent me there with my friend, Carol, who had just moved into my apartment a couple weeks earlier.  When I asked lots of "God" questions and through her confusion when she saw the UN-godliness, she connected me to one of the men who was a straightforward sharer and teacher.  I went with her to the church, which was all the way across town and we had to take the bus.  Not a nearby going-in-and-out situation as almost all of us in this nation do now.

I was showing my Omaha friend, Lisa, for whom I had gone to Tacoma August 11th, because she was working there for a couple months in a special nursing teaching way.  Even though we had been friends at church for a few years, she hadn't known I was from Tacoma.  And while she was out there, I didn't know it.  I knew she was working hard somewhere, but assumed it was here in Omaha.  When I suddenly discovered it, at the beginning of her last section out there and it would be ending August 15th, I definitely wanted to be there with her so she'd truly know me.

Since she had already read my book, "The Annie Project", I certainly wanted to be there with her and have her see much of the portion of Tacoma that was part of the book.  

I didn't use the NAME of Tacoma, but much of what occurred to "Cary" and/or "Annie" in the book I shared the events, rarely was an actual town named -- except Klickitat, WA, in one full chapter story.  While in Tacoma, I showed Lisa houses that were part of my family many, many, many years ago.  For instance, one where my Mom lived when adopted when born in 1920.  We all had been in that "Grandma"  house occasionally until I was about 25, around 1970, and Mom had let it go.  She had had it several years since my grandma had died.  Showing Lisa that house, and several other ones, and Wright Park and Point Defiance Park, and many other places, seeing and meeting some of my family was quite fun.  She was a very busy lady, but we miraculously fit it in!  Now she truly knows me.

MOM'S ORIGINAL HOUSE, SIGNIFICANTLY READJUSTED

WRIGHT PARK, MOM'S FAVORITE

 

2 AREAS OF PT. DEFIANCE PARK

The first real place we went to was the Baptist church that I had entered through Carol.  I came to the Lord April 15th, 1966, but not at the church.  I had been taken to the home of the man's family for dinner. He had already laid the truth of the Lord on me.  And, he, Stan, said the right things and through him, He took me in.  Lisa asked if I'd have a photo at the church. I never had.  She took the photos.  I was amazed.  Now, it ISN'T a Baptist church.  Several other titles have taken place over about 20 years, but it looks nearly exactly the same way.  And, BTW, I was a Sunday School teacher shortly after I came to the Lord.  THAT is amazing, too.  And every time I go by the church, I see the windows where I was in my teaching places.  Makes me smile.  So, here's the photos, even though nothing is perfect.  Might make you grin, though.  That would be a good thing.

"THE ANNIE PROJECT"... KLICKITAT, WA.

  Part of chapter 10... One portion to share.

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“Even with all those unhappy things happening around me, one event has always stood out because it changed me, in some ways, for the rest of my growing up years, and, in a way, for the rest of my life.  That day I learned a big bad lesson.  I felt that from then on I was responsible and I could trust myself better than I could trust anyone else.

“It was a day in late fall. I was a six-year-old first grader.  My sister Niki was about a year-and-a-half old and Patti was a really young baby.  Mom said she had to go into town and pick Dad up from work and that she’d be right back.  She also showed me that she had a meatloaf cooking in the oven and there was a catch pan in case grease should spill over.  I don’t recall being particularly disturbed at the idea of being alone.  Patti was in her crib and Niki and I played in the living room.

“Suddenly, I noticed smoke pouring from the oven.  I ran to the kitchen and opened the oven door.  When I did, I saw fire.  I closed the door, and ran outside to the walkway.  I ran back and forth calling for mom.  Part of my brain, of course, knew this was crazy, that she couldn’t possibly hear me.  The other part, though, was very frightened and desperately needed help.

“After yelling a few times, I decided I needed to get the girls out of the house and find someone.  This was not easy.  I couldn’t take both girls at once, because I couldn’t carry Patti and hold Niki’s hand going down the stairs to the road.  I took Patti from the crib and walked with them out to the top of the stairs.  A few steps down the hill, Dad had built a landing before continuing with the stairs. I managed to help Niki down and still hold Patti.  Then I laid Patti on the landing, walked Niki the rest of the way to the road, telling her to sit and wait for me, and she sat in a mud puddle.  I ran up to get Patti.  To my horror, she had rolled off the landing into a patch of thick, tall and sharp weeds we called snake grass.  I’ve never been certain whether snakes, particularly rattlesnakes, actually lived in the grass, but since I could sometimes watch them crawling around on the rocks below the window while we ate, it would have taken a lot to convince me that there weren’t any in that patch.  I didn’t have a choice, however, so I swallowed my fear, jumped down, grabbed Patti, put her on the landing and jumped back out, probably in as lightning-fast a move as I’ve made in my lifetime.  Patti had a small cut on her forehead, but that was all.  I carried her down to the road and then started walking with the girls towards town looking for help.  After about a quarter-mile’s walk, I saw some cars parked in a yard.  I went to the door and knocked.  When a man answered, I said, ‘I live in the Bird House and it’s on fire.’

“That got action!  He called the volunteer fire department in town.  My parents had stopped in for a beer at the local tavern and someone hollered to them that the house was on fire.  Of course, everyone in town that could, came out along with the firemen. It was quite a show.
“I was very frightened about what had happened.  I needed my parents to tell me that I’d done the right thing, made the right decision. Then firemen came back and said the fire was contained to the oven and there was no other damage.  Some grease from the meatloaf had splattered onto the coils and burned.  That was, of course, good news.  My mom, though, was angry.  In front of everyone, she swore at me and yelled, ‘Why didn’t you just turn the stove off?’  Some of my school mates laughed at me.  Dad didn’t say anything.  The crowd broke up and headed back to town, and it was all over.

“Later that evening, dad explained to me that mom was scared and that’s why she acted so angry. The subject was never brought up again in our home. 

“When I was a senior in high school, I dropped in to see a friend in town and was introduced to an older man who was visiting them.  After thinking for a minute he asked, ‘Were your parents very tall?  Did you live outside of town?’  When I said ‘yes’, he laughed.  He said, ‘I’ll bet you were the little girl who came to my door and said the house was on fire.  We had just come back from my wife’s funeral. You sure took our minds off our troubles.’

“I’ve sometimes wondered who the people were at his house.  I’m sure someone took Patti and held her and that someone took care of Niki while all this was going on. I don’t remember any of that.  I just remember being afraid and humiliated.  I don’t think I asked for help very often after that, either.  I began to figure out that I couldn’t trust my parents, and that’s a very sad spot to be in.  What’s worse, when other more terrible events happened to me, I didn’t tell my parents about them.  I just tried to figure out how to handle them on my own, events such as staying out of the way of people I knew wanted to hurt me.”

A BLESSED DAY!!!

 

I'm a "cloudy" rejoicing person.  BIG TIME!

And rejoicing about other things, too!

Clouds, or no clouds, I've had one of the nicest days in a long stretch of time.  And filled with rejoicing, over and over again.

I was able to get in touch with a friend in Omaha who was part of a very serious friendship necessity.  We were put together about 10 years ago by a pastor's wife in a local church where Dave and I attended for a few years.  Something serious was occurring at a Christian Jr. Hi/Hi School area back then, around the NW portion of Omaha.   It dealt with some of the serious spiritual "underground" issues [we call spiritual mapping], and I was/am a worker for that "battle" info to spread/share it around and have it broken down.  Kara and I became very good friends, when introduced, but in a few years, she was very stressful as family parents were very sick and died and she was in charge of it all.  Other situations just piled on her seriously.  We talked for 50 minutes this morning on the phone, the first time in about 2 years, and she truly wants to get together whenever she can have the time. Hopefully, in the next couple weeks, we'll make it and can rejoice together.

THEN, shortly after, I heard someone hollering for me on my

porch.  When I went, I was overwhelmed again, b/c Hanna Farwell had shown up to drop something off for Dave re: how he's putting computers together for them and planning to take the computers to their house in northern KS, about 3 hours south of us now.  They used to be about 5 minutes from us.  AND we were spiritual warfighting people, significantly.  We connected about 6 years ago.  Anyhow, with the family in town for the day in another place, she drove over and showed her baby -- baby number 13 -- and I held him.  She blessed me and prayed for me for my health before she left about 1/2 hour later.  [AND I don't look good, b/c the wind was

wrapping my hair around and about, but sure enjoyed holding the little, little boy!!]

 

THEN Dave and I went to lunch with one of our Bhutanese families... Sarmila, Ranjit, and their baby Sophia. [Photos just fit into my time with them at their church.  Dave couldn't be there very often, because he works at other churches, plays piano/organ for worship.] They have been our son and daughter and granddaughter since they've been here.  God also used me to help at the local hospital to be involved in the delivery of this granddaughter.  She'll be 2 years old in December.  She's a constant treat for

Dave and I when we can get together.  She's been told so many times that we are her grandparents and that she should smile and kiss us.  She's doing it more often, not always running away.

 

Got home just a short time ago, and could NOT tell you what a blessed day it has been.  And Kara and Hanna and Ranjit are planning to get the book.  YIPPEE!  [And Kara

wants more photos of the book and more of the info... so I'll be emailing that stuff to her today.]

This truly has been an amazing day!!!   And I'm heading for church this evening, because Dave is playing piano during the worship time and I always love to hear him -- AND I'm a worshiper!!!  And one of my church friends asked me on fb whether I would be there tonight or tomorrow [probably both] to sign the book that she has already received.  WOW!!!  Adds to the amazement, doncha think?

I'm filled with so many blessings now!!  In my heart, soul, and spirit... and lifting many to the Lord for healing, for joyfulness.   It's another HALLELUJAH!!! day. 

THE ANNIE PROJECT

This is Part Three of my "The Annie Project" book that is being officially published.  In this whole book, some pieces are fictionalized... connecting people to understand the Lord in tough situations, and being loved, respected, and protected ... and some are filled with family and friends reality issues.

This next one actually did.  Cary [the lady who is "me"] is preparing to head for Soroti, Uganda, when the LRA had invaded that portion of the area.  That was reality, and the discussion with Cary's family was sometimes real and sometimes fictional.  Not too boring.  And I'm going to put it on.  However, the piece that my granddaughter, Makayla, whose middle name is Danielle and is what she's known for in the book, was a "heading out" gift. And, 10-1/2 years later, I still have it.  I never forget it.  One other small piece of reality is that it fell off my wrist in Soroti while I was walking down the main street.  I didn't even notice right away.  But people sitting by the shops, hollered at me. Instead of grabbing it themselves, giving it to kids, etc., they made sure it was for me.  THAT was a God-gift.  So here's the cute grand-girl story portion.  And, very shortly after, Cary heads out to Uganda.  [OH, and BTW, all the family members have their middle names.]

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CHAPTER 10

.....Cary said, “OK, kids.  Is there anything you want to know?”

Reid asked, “Will you be safe?  I heard mom and dad talking and mom was worried about some soldiers fighting where you’re going.”

Cary saw Sue and Lee glance at each other with an “oops” look on their faces.  Cary took a few seconds to think before she answered.  It would have been so easy to simply tell Reid that God would take care of her and not to worry, but she knew she needed to be honest.

“That’s a good question, Reid.  I’m going to be in a pretty safe place.  I’m going to the town that the refugees ran to for protection.  The rebels are in the general area around the town, but they don’t want to be caught, so they won’t usually be coming in.  Above it all, I believe God is asking me to go there and I believe that I am his child and that what happens after that is his responsibility.  That doesn’t mean I don’t have to be careful and listen to advice from the people over there who know what’s going on.  I really, really do believe I’ll be fine, or I’d be a whole lot more nervous about going than I am.”

Danielle raised her hand.  Cary smiled.  “You’re not in school, Honey.  What do you want to say.”

“How many days will you be gone?”

“I’m not absolutely sure.  My plane ticket has me returning March twenty-fourth, so that will put it right at sixty-two days.”

Noel wailed dramatically, “Sixty-two days!?  You’ll be gone for sixty-two days?”  Then she fell backwards onto the floor.  Danielle giggled at Noel’s antics.  Cary and the rest of the family laughed, too.”

After a few more questions, it was obvious the kids were ready to go play.  “I’ll be heading home in a few minutes,” Cary said.  “Come give me kisses and hugs.”

Reid hugged Cary and said nonchalantly, “‘Bye, Grandma.”  Following their personal ritual, Cary asked, “What do you know?”  “You love me.”  Cary continued, “And what else?”  “You pray for me all the time.”  “That’s right, sweetheart. And don’t you forget it!”

Danielle hugged Cary and said, “I made something for you.”  She put her hand in her pocket and took out a purple plastic friendship bracelet she had made.  She had put letters that spelled “Grandma” in the center.  “I made it purple because that’s your fav’rite color.”

“Thank you, Honey.  I’ll wear it the whole time I’m gone and think of you every time I look at it.”