A Tale of Two Births

I apologize for how little communication you have heard from me for the last 5 months. I’ve been in the delivery room and unable to do anything other than coach a struggling mother. Our church birth of March Fourth has been going through a long and difficult labor. We’ve finally just gotten through a portion of the labor and 6 dear people were immersed this past Sunday. The only way I can adequately express my thoughts about this labor is to tell the story of Namulindwa and the tale of two births.

Namulindwa is the Luganda name given to a girl who is born from a long and difficult labor. Language is always interesting to hear translated. I’ve heard some fathers of women named Namulindwa instead say the blessing they give up their daughter means, “A long anticipated birth.” In the years we’ve lived in Africa our family has picked up some African names. My oldest daughter Sophia has been called Namulindwa.

Allow me to tell the story of Namulindwa Sophia Marie Jenkins. Most of you know her as the delightful teenage young woman who graces our home. A few of you call her Mini-Jana. I don’t know how we’ll ever function in 4 years time when she leaves us to begin the new stage of life at university. She excels at anything related to forming friendships, artistic expressions, and leadership. If I’m ever trying to find her in a crowded location all I have to do is look for a group of her peers enjoying themselves, and I’m confident she’s in the middle. She also is my newest running partner and I continue to be eager to see what life will hold as we make this transition to life long friends. At the age of 15 I can’t imagine God gracing us with a better daughter, but it did not begin this way.

Fifteen years ago was a time in which all that Jana’s and my body did rarely faced an insurmountable setback. We had an unhealthy confidence in our strength and assumed the struggles of others would always remain just that – the struggle of others. It seemed that most that we did we excelled at, and we assumed that would always be our lives. A few of our peers had struggled with infertility, but pregnancy came easy to us. We did all the things that first time parents do in preparation. We read the books, attended the child birth classes, and became self made birthing experts. The only thing was that we always skipped the sections about difficult births and c-sections. After all, that was what happened to those less fit and not “as natural” as us.

Then came the morning of June 30, 1992. Jana began feeling pain. We hurriedly rushed to the hospital and were diagnosed as “being in labor.” We made our plans and thought, “in a few hours we’ll have a baby.” But something just was not going right. Towards the afternoon a decision was made to begin giving Jana medication to speed the labor along. Then it really hit. The pain kept coming and coming. Our doctors took great pride in their low rates of caesarian births, and assured us that soon we would have a “natural birth.” By the evening, Jana was pushing; but we were getting no where. We kept at it for about 6 hours. Finally, after 36 hours of labor a decision was made to deliver Namulindwa by c-section.

I remember holding Sophia in my arms, but feeling numbness. I don’t do well without sleep, and the lack of it and long labor had stolen the best of my emotions. I knew what I expected to feel, but had nothing left to feel with. I left Jana and Sophia at the hospital to rest and remember driving home as the sun rose on July 1, 1992. I tried to sleep, but couldn’t. I made breakfast, and then returned to the hospital. I spent the next several weeks adjusting, helping Jana recover, and as time went on my emotions caught up with my reality. I learned the lesson that we make many blunders when we enter any situation expecting for it to meet our emotional need to be needed instead of doing the work of the day.

July 1, 1992 was not the day I expected, but today I can’t imagine God gracing my home with a better daughter.

On March Fourth, 2007 we began another birth process. Our Grand Church Opening was long anticipated. We had been praying for Rwanda since 1999 when we first visited. What drew us to Rwanda was the spiritual hunger we perceived among her thought leaders. We were convinced that someone needed to go to Rwanda to plant a thoughtful English speaking church among Rwanda’s current and future thought leaders. We kept for 5 years trying to persuade others to go. Finally, in the fall of 2004 all we held dear was stripped away and we realized we needed to leave our comfortable life in Uganda and go to the land of God’s calling. We were the answers to our own prayers.

We arrived in Rwanda in June 2005. The adjustment was more difficult than we anticipated, but somehow we had an exceptional season of out of the ordinary favor. Our first steps were to complete our government documentation and while others met obstacles we seemed to fast track. (Though I know from the U.S. standpoint all the time I spent walking government offices and making friends would seem out of the ordinary.) We had a multiple of experiences that reminded us of the story of Joseph. A young man I had known as a poor student in Uganda was now working in the President’s Office and introduced me to others who helped our processing of documents. A woman who used to work at British Airways in Uganda and helped us purchase plane tickets in crises also was now a leader in Rwanda’s government. We just kept on having Joseph experiences that showed us that all of the struggle of Uganda would have purpose in Rwanda.

When we first moved to Rwanda we lived in a model community designed to model all that Rwanda intended to be. While living there we noticed a Hall and School. We dreamed, “Do you think the next time such a community is built we might be able to be part of the initial plans? Could we ever be a part of something so unique?” Our humble dreams were surprised when we found out the property was for sale in September 2006. Our elders, Tom and Sue Gooch, and Larry Schwab came to see us a few days later, and we were scared to show them the possibility. Instead, they could not help but dream with us.

We returned to the U.S. for furlough a few weeks later, and surprisingly many rallied around this crazy dream. The School and Hall became ours to be used for the purposes of God in February 2007. Then came our Grand Church Opening on March 4 2007. It felt historic. Three hundred and thirty gathered with us. A host of community leaders came. It seemed that God had said, “Yes. The vision you have had for almost 8 years to plant an English speaking church for future and current thought leaders is my vision.”

Then we hit the birth canal. Namulindwa was with us. People came and went. In fact, we think there have probably been at least 600 different individuals who have worshiped with us. Our attendance has wavered from 70 to 150 people on various Sundays. Many come once and then are not seen for weeks. Our target group is spiritually hungry, but religiously skeptical. They watch us very closely. Also, they are very busy and unable to commit much time. We are convinced that a key theological theme that must be addressed will be found in the concepts of Sabbath rest. Our target group is much like Post-exilic Israel and engaged thoroughly in the process of educating, building, and reforming. They are exhausted from the work and need a season of refreshment.

On Sunday, 26 August 2007 our first children came through the birth canal. Six were immersed. Each came with a story. Three were the children of Jane Mukamongi, our Administrative Assistant (Daniel, David, and Rachel). Jane grew up in Uganda as a refugee. She is a widow with five children. National Geographic in 1972 called her people “Aristocrats turned refugees.” (I remember reading this line as a little boy at my grandmother’s home looking through old magazines.) Jane is some one with great leadership capacity who was always at the glass ceiling in Uganda. In Rwanda she has found her “fourth chance” and quickly become a neighborhood leader. We have known her for 14 years and her children are much like our own. I can’t describe to you the thrill of baptizing her children and dreaming with Jane of what their future may hold in a new Rwanda.

Two of the men (Alphonse and Innocent) who were baptized were like Jane. They had lived most of their lives as refugees. Then in the early 90’s they returned to Rwanda. Both have lived lives of struggle and searching. We had the privilege of performing Innocent’s wedding two weeks earlier. Life in Rwanda has given them a new start, and we hope that the life of faith will give them more then they can ever imagine.

The last, Julius is a young man from our neighborhood.

For those of us who dream for the future another exciting event happened on Sunday, 26 August – questions were asked. It became obvious that our gathering community did not understand the strange events of immersing people in a fountain; but they wanted to find out more. Sometimes the clearest sermon is an example. Sometimes things can only begin to be understood when they are seen. We now are praying that God will unleash something more – a hunger for the holy.

In the next few weeks, we’ll teach some more on the simplest but profound truths of our faith. Jesus is the Son of God. He rose from the dead. By doing so he overcame all of our struggles of humanity. He offers us a free gift. All we need to do is to receive it through acts of faith in repentance, confession, and baptism. What a journey we are upon?

God has given us 2 “difficult births,” but instead they are “long awaited.” The first Namulindwa is now an exceptional treasure. We trust 15 years from now we will share the same conclusion about our newest Namulindwa.

Imana Ikurinde (May God keep all of you),

Dave and Jana