A normal International day

Today was a lot more normal than the last two weeks. I woke up in the morning after having gone to sleep at night. I worked during the daytime hours more than the night. I still have some work on my list to finish tomorrow, like posting an official blog, finishing reports, and writing up job descriptions. These are things I can doing normal ‘9 to 5’ work hours. Communication is around 23 to 24 hours, and then I sleep. Then I have international communication time in the morning and am available until about 14 to 15 hours – we use military time in our family because in the Portuguese speaking countries that I have lived in or visited, the military time is more commonly used. For my American readers, I am up for International phone calls, video calling or chatting around 11 or midnight. Then I am up again to talk in my morning after about 9. I spend between a half hour to an hour chatting then checking emails, and am available for communication with our team in Mozambique until about 2 or 3 in our Colorado afternoon. In between chatting I work on the other stuff, or read on my good days. I still am mommy at lunch time, and when the kiddos need me any time in 9 to 5.

Somehow, I do manage to get important stuff taken care of, and spend quality time with my kids because they are the most important important thing.  Today, I felt like I was starting to get into a rhythm and closer to my normal pattern. I did miss a chat to one of our missionaries, but set up to chat with her in the morning. I feel pretty good about today, not drowning in emotions able to get some work and ministry responsibility taken care of. I’m turning back into a human rather than a blob of jet-lag culture shock re-entry mess. I’m celebrating this because One good day is a great thing.

I even took an evening stroll with my parents.

Deep sigh of relief. Life is a little more doable when I can breath through my nose. That also helps. I do feel much better physically than I have in days, and breathing is a good thing. Sleeping is a good thing to. So I’m off to pray with my stinkers and read until my hubby gets up in Mozambique and he wishes me goodnight, while I wish him a good day.

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Trusting at the end of my dirt road

Trust blurg

Sometimes people second guess Papa God’s choices. I know we are not those people, ever, never. Nope. We trust Papa God, most of the time. So yeah, very sarcastic statement above. Sorry for those who can’t read satire. It really is tough actually because tone is lost while reading. So, that statement is contrary and sarcastic. 

No, we are not so proud or silly to shout out that we are always always trusting God in everything that unfolds in our lives. There are days we look up to heaven and want to question the clouds…..not helpful though. Holy Spirit is everywhere, if we want to imagine that God has moved far away and is up in or beyond the clouds, then that is a clue that our doubt meter is up and our faith meter is dipping down.

So yeah, I’ve wondered about some of Papa’s direction in our lives, and the plans he has for us. Sometimes the thoughts he has are wild. I’m like, “Not sure you understand that my skill level is presently not up to dealing with this reality.” And he just kinda smiles, its irritating if I’m frustrated though. Why do parents look at our kids with that, “You don’t know you can do this, but I know you will” look?

Parents usually have a bigger picture than their kiddos. So, Papa God knows the entire bigger picture, of everything. He’s not wrong in his confidence in our process with him and his perfect plan for our lives.  

His love is perfect for us, he’s not allowing a situation in our lives that he isn’t giving us everything we need to get through it. Today we see his perfect plan unfolding in a beautiful way in our lives. God is so good, so kind, and overflowing with lavish love!

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Time to unpack my Suitcases

I still have my suitcases and carry-on our bedroom floor next to our bed. I don’t know what the delay is about. Then I realized that I’m waiting for my husband. Goodness, could I be any less of a sap? I’m pretending like I haven’t arrived yet. I think it’s time to unpack all the way and put my suitcases away. I should.  Somehow in the back of my head, and all over our bedroom, I’m pretending I just got here. Its been over a week though. I’m still pretty mixed up in my hours – sunlight is supposed to help with that, and taking it easy.

I’m still so in tuned to Africa time more than America time. It’s just to hard unplug from African life, and get into some routine in America. My routine here is still almost completely full of emails, phone calls, chats, and reports about Africa. Now even my internal clock is focusing more on Chimoio time. All I can do is one day at time. Take care of kids, call hubby, read text books, do homework, send emails, plan, organize, communicate, and write up reports…..it shouldn’t matter to much what time of the day those things happen. Except my kids are here in Colorado on Colorado time, so meals and hanging out with them and getting them to bed is on this clock. Communication with the team is on their clock, and communicating with my hubby is on Chimoio time, because he’s there – only we have a normal pattern. We don’t talk about work stuff in the evening. We talk about work stuff in the morning to plan the day. Only now everything is flip flopped and mixed together.

We will make it through the next couple weeks. We will do better than make it through some rough patches of weird sleep hours, and flip flop conversations, we will come out the other side as champions. It’s for our family. We are Mama and Papa Bear…..and for us, we realize that is a great thing. It drives our heart and vision for building a family instead of a mission. We are missionaries. We can travel. We can sacrifice ‘normal’ hours and face various challenges. Our mission is not our first priority….our relationship with the vision giver (Papa God) our relationship with each other (romance) and our tenacity for our family.

I like waiting for my hubby to come home, but it won’t hurt to have some more floor space. I will still have calls at weird hours, and some things more mixed up than usual until my hubby comes home. Its worth it because it’s full of love and heart.

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Crying at the end of my dirt road

There is something to be said for journaling. I’m not totally sure what it is. For now, I have to try to just find words to come off my finders.

Part of my problem with writing or not writing is that I’m compelled to try to be totally swallowed by a dramatic story that isn’t real (bing tv) instead of thinking about my own.

I just want to numb my own story and forget the pain.

I start crying almost every time I think about my house in Africa. I just want to not cry when I think about furniture or pets. When I think about my street neighbors, and my dirt driveway. It’s such a narrow gate. I’ve parked a car there for so many years. We drove up to that house with a lady showing houses so many years ago. She was the closest thing to a realtor in our city. The house was a heap of garbage, surrounded by overgrown shrubs. There was a path to the rooms along the back wall, and a lady had been renting those out for a small monthly fee. The front door was pretty and worked properly. It was one door that worked. The others were broken or without a handle. It was a mess, but we could see it working – after a lot of work.

There was a gentlemen renting a room inside the house, before we considered renting the entire house and property for a fee that was less than 300 dollars a month, if the landlord could get the house cleaned up. It was an amazing undertaking. There were so many bugs and rodents and snakes. We had to bug-bomb that house so many times after the owner did. It was a house that smelled just like fresh paint and insecticide. In January of 2009 we got the keys from the owner. The house had been bug-bombed, but within a week we knew we would have to really keep at scrubbing and bug-killing for a while before the bug infestation was really over.

We moved in anyway. Our rental period in an apartment was up. We had repainted the walls and scrubbed our 4^th floor apartment turned in the keys and moved into our new battle zone. I had yet to see a nice clean house for the amount of money that we could afford. This was our ‘new’ old place. We took the keys and moved our two little boys and our Mozambican son, two puppies, and a missionary into the new place.

That house kinda became our missionary almost ‘dream’ house. I mean the faded tile in the bathroom didn’t change the fact that there was a bathtub in the bathroom! We got a water pump up and running, and even installed a water tank for some pressure. This was an old house that was riddled with problems, but we were settling in very happily. We settled in that rental house for years. I’m sad to say goodbye to that house that has been a friend.

We’re closing our rental contract with the landlord in July. We will have rented that house for seven and a half years. I’m a bit of an emotional train wreck. I’m literally grieving this change. My oldest son asked if he is going to see the house again. I said that we can pass by the house. I know that by the time we do pass by the house it will be different but the same. It will have different people there. And that’s going to be ok.

Its not ok right now, but other things are ok. And I’m doing my best to take pictures and tidy up things about the house. When I can’t bear it, and I cry about a sofa or a chair, or my dog being to old to learn a new house and family, I cry a bit and change the subject. That’s my coping right now. So writing is hard, because I’m not sure its time to open the floodgate. For now, I’m going to type one letter at a time, and or those of you who tune in, I’m sorry its emotional stuff. This is where I am right now.

Thank you for reading. It’s a kind gesture. I hope maybe you feel less foolish for being emotionally attached to your house, room, furniture, or something material. We all work through these things when they come up. Its ok to cry. Its important to grieve through transition, and celebrate change. There’s some weird kinda balance that helps us keep a sound mind. That balance is found inside one person’s heart. That’s Jesus. He’s everything. His mind is perfect, his emotions are perfect and perfectly interacting with his thoughts and we have been given the mind of Christ as adopted sons and daughters of the King.

Its ok to need, in fact is important to know how much we need Jesus. Right now I know how desperate I am for him. I love that my desperate hunger for his perfection to show up in my life doesn’t ever leave me wanting. Oh how he loves me….

That’s the kind of love that never fails. So I honestly say, in the middle of my emotional and really real transition, I have so much love to give.

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

There’s no place like home

There’s no place like home, but which home? Colorado or Chimoio?

What would I give for teleportation via tapping my feet in sparkly shining shoes.

I do have shiny sparkly shoes.

I wore these shiny glittery shoes as house slippers inside my home in Africa for two weeks. Then I clicked my heels….well actually then a got in a car and we drove for about 3 hours. I was reluctant to kiss my hubby goodbye one last time after getting my passport and residence documents stamped for my exit of the country.

I wonder what the officer was thinking when I asked him to let me back through the door to say my final goodbye. He let me embrace my stinker hubby one last time, and kiss him goodbye. I was a bit anxious on so many levels. I’m kind of a disaster traveling alone. I’m actually kind of a disaster traveling. It’s funny how people assume that I must be a great traveler. I do have experience. Lots of experience crossing over the big blue ocean, but I’m not. I’m probably among the worst travelers. I try not to let it out, but sometimes I’m so uncomfortable that I get gas. I also have to say that I don’t sit still. The people around me always have extra bumps because I’m tall. I hit their chair with my knees or bump their tray table. Oh its hard to travel, so I’m always happy for some extra leg room. I love the bulkheads. But here I go rambling off on the discomfort of travel when I was telling my exit story.

That’s right. Joao kissed me goodbye. I held his face in my hands for the last time in a month. I would be a tragic soldiers wife. Definitely crying at any deployment. I don’t just love my husband. I really like to be with him. We do stuff together every day. We are those gooey romantic people that some people love to hate, but we present pretty normal in social settings.

Goodness. I’m outing our romance. Our passionate silliness and all that jazz should be under wraps. I know, but I miss him. I hated saying goodbye. I managed getting on the first plane from Beira to Joburg without any problem. It was a smooth flight. No anxiety. I was just watching out the window looking at my other country for the last time in probably 10 months. It was fine getting from Joburg to London. I had a bowl of soup at Mugg & Bean in the airport and was able to use WiFi for 30 minutes. I loaded emails on my phone, and tried to post on Facebook. It was heavenly.

Then I moved through the airport trying to find where my gate was. It’s the hidden one in the international Terminal that has no loud speaker once you find it. That’s ok. A long line of travelers filled the walkway waiting for boarding to start while I sat on the floor and charged my phone in a plug on the wall.    

So, I can manage my way through airports, and I know where to find things like charging stations or just a random plug. But I’m still not nearly as confident as people might guess. I’m not mentally or cognitively afraid of flying, and therefore anxious. Something about how my eyes dry out, and my stomach always hurts speaks of physical anxiety from the movement. I keep an eye on the ‘doggy bag’ - seriously. I have some pretty good vertigo. People offer me motion sickness pill,  but it hasn’t helped up to now. I just suffer through and will myself to get over the nausea by thinking about other things. Read if I can handle it, listen to a book, or watch a movie. Mostly, I want to sleep on a flight so I can ignore my physical discomfort.

Anyway, I couldn’t eat much on the flight to London. I managed to nibble on almost every meal while what I wanted to do was not eat at all. I get emotional when I say goodbye to people for a while. I don’t like to eat when I’m emotional. I just wanted to cry. But I felt really vulnerable with the people around me. They were kind, but observant. I just wanted to be an oblivious blip on someone’s radar. I couldn’t cry. Watching something sad wouldn’t work either. The person next to me seemed to be searching my soul. I planned to spend a few hours in a bedroom pod in the London Heathrow airport before waiting for my plane from London to L.A. That was lovely. I had nice hot shower with running water after two weeks of no running water.

I laid on the bed with fresh white linens, then had a lovely breakfast before I checked out. I headed to the shop area and bought cold medicine from the drugstore in the airport. Then I found a secluded bench somewhere by a black baby grand piano that was fitted with a player. It was lovely, so pleasant to hear the rich sounds of a finely tuned instrument.  I finished my Sudoku puzzle from the previous plane magazine, and then checked the screens for my gate. They only show the gate number one hour before boarding time there. I found my gate and starting boarding just after grabbing a few magazines.

This flight was different. My row was empty until the last two passengers were assisted to board the aircraft. They were a lovely older couple from India. They spoke very little English, and I was literally thrilled. First of all, my first mission’s trip as an adult was in India. Secondly, they were just to cute and so precious. I loved helping them with the little things. Then they went to sleep. There was some kind of tenderness that gave me permission to cry. I cried off and on for one hour before putting on a sad movie that I cried through off and on. I finally got the emotional release that I was looking for.

The cold and flu meds I bought helped me to fall asleep. The broken rest was better than no rest. I landed in LA late in the evening, but it was still pretty bright outside. I had traveled about half way around the globe and crossed from the southern hemisphere to the northern hemisphere: Winter to Summer. I was greeted by a friend who hosted me for two nights to help me get over the jet lag, and an ugly cold or flu…or something from traveling in changing climates. Anyway, She’s a great friend. Any excuse to hang out with her is well worth it!

I wasn’t crying on my last flight from L.A. to Denver, and I wasn’t wishing that I could cry or forcing myself to eat at least a third of somewhat improved airplane meals.  I wasn’t even saying goodbye to my home for the last decade. I was finally hopping on a plane to see my kids after three weeks of being away. BUT, This leg of my flights  is where I was by far the biggest disaster.

Oh my goodness. It’s a miracle I even got on that plane after falling down the escalators. I’m serious. There was barely enough time to get to my bag drop after I walked to the first elevator at the end of the terminal. It wasn’t working. So my ten minutes was down to five. Then I walked to the other end of the terminal to find that it wasn’t working either. So I went to the third elevator outside and saw no lights, no nothing. 3 elevators not working, and my time was ticking away. You are not supposed to travel on escalators with heavy check-in luggage for a reason. They are cumbersome and heavy. But I was running out of options and losing any chance of getting my bag to Denver at the same time as me.   To my annoyance, I tried to get my 50 pound bag along with my 20 pounds of check-in to stand up neatly on the moving stairs. Only three steps up, we crumbled. Crumbling is so much better than toppled. It was like melting down, instead of dramatic rolling. So I was glad that I didn’t have any clothes or shoelaces caught in the moving steps. I have some bruised knees and an escalator burn on my left leg, but I got myself and the bags up to the next floor where the bag drop was. I managed to get to my feet, get the bags stable and somehow stumble up the escalator all the way to the top.

I power-walked from there, past the broken elevator in the middle of the terminal with a crowd of twenty people waiting while two service men worked on fixing the elevator, all the to the check-in desk, right as the cut off time for checked bags rolled over the clock. To my delight, the attendant quickly helped me get the bag tagged and on its way to the plane. I had paid for it online. All I needed was to get to that bag drop 45 minutes before my flight was scheduled to leave. The tag said that I was 1 minute late. In that one minute I had managed to share my woes with the lady, and she informed me that my bag would go to Denver on this flight or the next. I needed to head straight to security though. So I did. However, they sent me to the slow line. It was my delight (I’m more timid than anybody believes so that is sarcasm. I know its hard to read sarcasm, but just believe me its cynical) my delight, to kindly ask everyone in front of me if they would let me go in front of them since my plane was boarding. They were all so kind. I managed to get to my gate just as they made the last call for my boarding zone.

It was a huge relief to sit on the last plane home. I was actually a champion during the flight, no tears, no anxiety, no gas. Just wide eyed wonder as I watched the landscape beneath our plane change from Ocean and green mountains, to desert and canyons, and then mountains again. My mountains were at long last, beneath me. I recognized different mountain ranges and peaks. There was some kind of settling in my soul. It felt like contentment for the tradeoff of Chimoio for Colorado. Now I just needed to find out if my checked bag made it.

There were toys from Africa in there, and I wanted to be able to give them to my boys. I saw it, on the wrong baggage terminal thingy, but I recognized it from far away. I found a working elevator in Denver and went down to passenger pick up. My dad came to get me with mine and my hubby’s three boys. They came filing out of the car to hug and kiss me. I was so happy to see them. We had an ice-cream together as we headed home. It was a short drive, but so very final.

I have been spending these last few days just hugging my boys, chatting with my hubby who is an ocean away, catching up with some homework and emails, and resting. That yucky snot got pretty bad as the flights only irritated my sinuses more, so I saw a doctor today and he suggested more rest and more of the same meds. After all, I do know how to recover from international travel.

I feel like my heart has been divided in two. I’d rather it be my liver. It’s the only organ that can grow back when its divided, and therefore so much more like love. Love is not diminished when it’s shared, it only grows. So I could say that half my heart is on this continent and half my heart is in Africa, or I can talk about my liver. It grows, so It’s more like love. I can love two places and two people groups, and have my family in multiple continents. That’s ok. It was feeling like a broken heart, but its mended.

I feel more like I’ve shared my liver…..so it’s easy to spread the love.

This is goofy and I’m sorry for those who read to the end. I’m sure it’s the night-time Mucinex setting in and interrupting my ability to communicate.

Well, thanks for all the love and support! Your a champion if you've read this far.

Lots of love right back at you!

Missionary Momma Mia

Back to our roots.

My hubby and I are pretty overwhelmed when we come here. It’s a place of our beginnings. We worked hard here, we literally poured out blood, sweat and tears for this vision to be build up in Dondo.

We didn’t know how to face all of the challenges that we faced being missionaries here, but we learned soooooo much!!

It’s been an incredible day with lots of flooding emotions. We are going to be apart for a month. We are going to move into a huge transition on this side of the ocean while I attend a summer class, and our kids have their summer break from school in Colorado.

We are in so deep that it’s hard to just take ten minutes to breath Jesus in for the sake of being near him and chilling. But that is what I have to do when it least seems possible. I need to just stop and breath in Holy Spirit. Lean into Papa God’s heart and trust that his plan is awesome because that’s his promise to us!

Please pray for us. I’m traveling over the next few days, and my hubby is heading back to Chimoio after I fly out tomorrow from Beira. We’re not used to being apart or happy about it, but we know how to trust Papa God and obey. This time will be a treasure for us, in many ways it already is. I can look forward to our reunion in Colorado!

Oh my goodness we are sappy. But we really do love each other that much….

Praying you all are really blessed as you breathe in sweat Holy Spirit and rest trusting in his word for your lives.

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Overfull to Overflowing

Today started with a fun church service at Iris Chimoio River of God Children’s Center. We danced and laughed and sang in so many dialects that I only understood half of the songs. The mamas, grandmas, and girls were dancing in the center of the room. The guys played instruments and danced in a line behind the girls. All the voices were loud and clear. We worshipped and prayed together then listened as one of our older sons shared a message about being salt and light. He also talked about forgiveness and brought tears to my eyes. My hubby and I love this young man so much…. We are so proud of him and our other kiddos!!!! Then they surrounded me and prayed over me as I said goodbye. Oh my goodness, they are precious… Their hugs are priceless. Their prayers are powerful and full of faith. 

“Surround Mae with angels on her journey. Protect her and bring her back safely….” They continued for a while, all praying at the same time. Then our pastor prayed over me and our family as we are in this huge transition that God will bless us in our Goodbyes and keep us connected in spirit. My heart was just smushed….Its an incredible people we get to spend time with! They are a huge blessing in our lives. How can we say goodbye one more time? But we are a family stretched across the globe with our own three sons in the US. We miss them so much. It’s time for me to get back to them.   

But I’m not sure if I can say goodbye one more time today. My hubby so kindly reminded me that I need to say goodbye to our Mozambican son Ngenie. I’m pretty sure he’s heading to bed already though. And I’m not sure if I can get through more hugs. I’m over full, but I’m not sure if I’ve made it to overflowing. I’m full like a sack that is about to burst.

I need to take a deep breath and allow God to pour through me, then I can go hug my son….

Ok…hug time before he goes to bed, and then heads to school early in the morning.

Now I’m overflowing…..I got a hug and a big surprise!

I went to hug Ngenie goodbye, and he barely could hug me. Then he asked me if it was ok for him to come with us to Beira tomorrow. He told me that he doesn’t have class tomorrow or Tuesday. I told him that of course he can come. We will work out the details in the morning. I told him that it’s perfect that I don’t have to say goodbye tonight because I can’t handle one more goodbye today. Ngenie couldn’t handle another goodbye either, he was swallowing back the tears. I totally understand the emotion.

Now I’m just to overfull and overflowing with real soppy gratitude to Papa God. He just knows me so perfectly and understands what I can and cannot handle right now. I just needed to be able to wait to say goodbye.

I’m so amazed! We serve an awesome God feels like an understatement!!!! Can you fathom how perfect that detail is for me right now? It’s just so much more than any kindness I’ve experienced from a person in my life.  Papa God is by far the kindest person I know.

I’m literally crying now, and it’s because of amazement. How he loves us!!!! There is no other God who wants to show us his power by arranging a perfect ending to a perfect evening setting up the details that will best bless me!

I feel so loved and so blessed to be right here right now with hubby beside me. Yesterday and today we celebrated our 12^th wedding anniversary with wonderful meals out with friends, and a tremendously sweet lunch date with our beautiful Mozambican daughters! We all got dressed up in fancy dress clothes to celebrate!

We’ve said goodbye to many dear friends here, and we can’t wait to stay connected via various forms social media. Thank you to everyone who has blessed us on our special day!!!!!

We are over full and stuffed with love and friendship, we are overflowing with such tender JOY for being sons and daughters of the best, kindest and perfect Papa God!

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Yummy Groupo Familiar

Tonight my hubby and I made it to the missionary home group by-weekly fellowship. We walked in about a half an hour late. When we went through the door into their living room the crowd of our friends (basically our adopted extended family in Chimoio) started to hoot, holler and whistle for us. They’re so kind!, Cheering for us at our unexpected arrival at the groupo familiar was a huge surprise for me. We love them so much. It’s such a great feeling to be warmly welcomed back into our circle of friends and co-laborers in the field! Its such a great group of people living by faith, following their calling and loving our God and loving His people!  

We heard stories from a missionary family who have been in Mozambique since 1987 and 1992. It was an honor to meet their family. It was also our great joy to see so many of our friends at once. This was the only way for me to meet up with so many other missionaries during my short time here in Chimoio.

We found that friendship isn’t forgotten in our absence, not only among our staff and children who are on some level dependent on our missionary calling and commitment to Mozambique. These friends are other men and women who love Mozambicans. They are our neighbors and friends. Its such a blessing to see so many nations represented in one home group meeting.

I was so touched by acapella voices singing in Portuguese. Familiar voices in soprano, base, and alto. It’s a gift to be touched and receive from God in any place of worship, to go into any setting and seek God. Here God is easily found. It seems that everyone is touched in worship, prayer and listening to testimonies. This is the taste of eternity that grabs our hearts and reminds us how much Jesus loves the NATIONS! We get a taste of the nations too! Lots of good food follows a brief message. So we left the home group meeting with full spirits and full tummies.

Yay!!! for real people thinking about real stuff. We all know that when you get a group of thirty missionaries together every other week, we need both kinds of food!

Here’s to good fellowship, food, and friends and family!!! Thank you for being friends!

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

S'not soup

Snot soup….that was the title of a book I read in 3^rd grade…nothing to do with my day, except for the way my head feels. Sorry folks. I’m not so poetic, romantic, or writing that great today. I know it’s kinda yucky. Sometimes I might just be a little to frank. The truth is, I’m feeling kinda tired and have a stuffy head. There is a little bit of snot in my head, or maybe a lot of snot. So I can’t smell much and I can’t think very well either.

So here it is: We are in Mozambique at the start of the winter season, but we just left the beginning of summer. I’m finding out that even though the temperatures are pretty close, my body is responding like its winter! I needed a jacket the other evening, and even had a cold when I woke up yesterday morning. Well, I’m kinda laughing because I feel warm, but at night my body is telling me that we are winter. Even after such a long time away, my body seems to want to acclimate pretty quickly.  

Tonight I’m going to sleep under another blanket with my socks and pjs on to see if I wake up less stuffy. Now I’m going to sip on some lemon tea, try to write some more for school or emails, pay some bills online, and listen to the local nightly news in the background.

Sorry to post a blurg….but this is as good as it gets tonight…

Thanks for patience and thanks for reading!

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Flickering undying flame for Mozambique

Flickering flame

Perfect reason to give away leftovers from our dinner. I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t finish my meal this evening. We had set up a dinner date at a great place in Chimoio with great friends. We had the best conversation possible, and I might have just talked to much. I couldn’t finish my meal. My hubby asked for a take away box for the other half of my meal.

Then on our way our way home we found the perfect reason for having neglected such a yummy meal, and the right person to give our leftovers too.

My hubby and I don’t usually take that road home back from the restaurant, but tonight we happened to take the road because we knew that the other street that we used to take would be more crowded with drunks from the bars. I usually prefer the other road because it has a little bit more light from streetlamps, but tonight we went on that bumpy bumpy dirt road behind the school that is a short cut to our rental house. As soon as we turned the corner we noticed that there was a light flickering out of place up ahead of us. It was a little fire lit right next to the dumpster, and someone was getting warm. 

That dumpster often has a mad man rummaging around through the garbage for food, but Joao noticed that is wasn’t a mad man or even a grown up. He was a kid. When we realized that is wasn’t the normal mad man who stays by that dumpster, we stopped the truck, backed up and found out that this youngster was on the street for only a brief time. Our hearts desire is to scoop him up in our truck and let him sleep at our home just two blocks away. Tonight the temperature will drop pretty low. That’s why he had lit a fire to try to get warm. We looked at each other and knew that we needed to give him time to get to know us and our big family. We struck up a conversation.

He looked out of place wearing summer clothes instead of a winter jacket. His tank top and shorts didn’t look to be too ripped -  from what I could tell in the dim light. He appeared a little to clean to have been surviving on the street any length of time. He was kind and spoke very clear Portuguese. Sometimes street children speak more of the local dialect because they are not in school studying the national language. His name is Jose, and he answered our questions very clearly in Portuguese. We asked him if he was hungry and would like to eat my left overs? “Sim….Obrigado”(Yes, thank you) my hubby asks him in unison with me “Jose,  where is his home? “Nao tenho” (I don’t have one), Why? “Both of my parents died a year ago” Do you have any other family? He looked at me then at the ground contemplating an answer. So I asked if he had any aunties or uncles to care for him? “Nao” Rephrasing the question gave him an opportunity to answer without lying. My hubby asked him how long he has been on the street, but I’m not sure we got a straight answer. We know time passes differently when you don’t have a home. Then he asked him, where is your blanket? He told us that he is using a sack.

A vehicle was coming up behind us, so we said our goodbyes. We knew that if we talked longer we would be tempted to just take him home, but knowing the best path is to build a relationship and take things slowly we drove away knowing that he's going to be warmer tonight and well fed. He’s not a small child, but a teenager. My hubby lets him know that we will send our son with a blanket and we will talk with him more and give him as much help that we can give.

Our sweet Mozambican son took a sleeping bag to him and prayed with him. He is so tender towards Jesus and to the lost. They talked for a little bit and Ngenie came up with a lot of similar info. He agrees that this guy isn’t a street kid, and he said he’s only been there a month because his auntie was beating him and hasn’t come to look for him since he left her house. Our Mozambican son Ngenie knows what its like to loose both parents and then loose a home with an family member. It’s not easy to be alone. Ngenie asked him if he would want to live with our other kids or if he knew any of the Iris Chimoio missionaries. He is interested. He told Ngenie he stays by that dump, so Ngenie will bring him breakfast on the way to school. Our pastor and his wife are already praying with us for Jose to be safe and warm tonight, and to find a new home, or reconcile with his aunty. God knows exactly what this youngster needs. His heart is broken without his parents and he needs warmth, food, and to continue his education.

My hubby and I are ready to help him find his family again, or have a bed at River of God Children’s center. It doesn’t take us to long to decide these things. When he is ready our team will do whatever we can to help him get safe and warm for these cold winter months.

This is why we give our hearts to this people, this nation. Papa God doesn’t let these vulnerable children be hidden from his watchful eyes, and at just the right time this evening near 10pm we spotted one of his kids who might be getting ready to come home, or return to his family with help and love from ours.

Oh we have such a good loving Papa God!!! Its an honor to have eyes to see the hurting, and be able to love on them. It’s the best way to spend the last moments of our day.

So much love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Stretched, twisted, Rung out

Stretched, twisted, rung out and then hung on the line….

Washing a load of laundry, with help from our dear Mozambican Mae scrubbing our clothes by hand in laundry detergent, took an hour and a half. She did the scrubbing in the detergent because my hands are to sleek and smooth. The detergent cracks my skin right away. She laughs as I explain how weak my muscles are compared to hers, and how soft my skin is from doing office work and studying at University. She let me see if I was strong enough to pull the water up from the well with a fraying rope tied to a five liter jug with slots in the side to fill up as the jug plunks into the water that is about nine meters below our feet. We laughed when I could fill up the 20 liter bucket, but I couldn’t carry it with ease like she can.

We talked about how strong Mozambican women are. I told her that I’m always amazed at the strength and perseverance of Mozambican Mamas.  She humbly inquired with a simple phrase that requires body language along with clear facial expression, “ah e’? “ meaning “for real?” Its meaningless to try to flatter minha Mae Mozambicana. She wants to hear why I’m saying they are so strong. So we talk for a while and she begins to conceptualize that our comfy lifestyles in the western developed countries doesn’t keep our arm muscles strength up to par for hand washing laundry by directing my attention, with the subtle motion of her chin, to the broken washing machine on the back veranda of our rental house in Chimoio. We chuckle together and she teaches me more words in Matewe as we change the water two more times. Then I wrung out one item at time and hung our dripping wet laundry on the clothes line. Mae lets me know that the sun is strong enough to dry them while they drip. We started the wash early enough for the sun to dry our clothes before sunset.

She was absolutely correct. She knows her stuff. We finished the wash at 11:30, and the clothes were nice and dry at four in the afternoon after my hubby and I returned from an interesting afternoon in the city. We managed to get a lot of paper work (my hubby and our accountant got tons of stuff taken care of this morning) We attempted to sort out our foreign residence here in Mozambique. There are some bumps in our path, so tomorrow morning we will sit with the director of Immigration to find out what is our next step with this process. So many things to do, and details to look into….now it’s time to finish catching up on the national news with our dear friends before heading to bed. Its interesting the filmography of the news….a witness to a crime is interviewed and the camera is tightly zoomed in on his chest, their microphones and a reporters hands…..some serious news to be praying for this country. We are all praying for peace to reign. Ok, that’s all for now.

Off I go,  not to be to too brief when there is so much story to tell, but after this I’m going to head to bead instead of writing late into the night because we have a bit of an early morning tomorrow.

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia 

dreams on hold

A few times today my head was spinning from thinking to hard….I know that never happens to anyone else, but oh my goodness. How many things need to be considered, discussed and attempted to resolve in such a short time!

Well, it’s a lot to take in. We sat with a few of our trusted friends who are part of the Iris Chimoio team and discussed current and future plans for the children’s center. It was a lot of hopes and a few certainties. Everything that is certain is what we have to consider when making any important decisions. We are framing all the conversation around vision and the facts like time limits for Joao’s greencard, various different government regulations, children’s ages, and grade levels, current assets, fixed expenses, team members, family, volunteers and staff. All of this helps us flesh out who we talk to next, what steps we take to go forward with certain documents and plans. There are so many provincial and city office officials that we or our leading pastor has to meet with in order to continue caring for our kiddos here.

We have to consider what to do with the old rental house in the city. We have had dreams and ideas before that we felt like God put in our hearts. We have followed his vision for these children to the best of our faith, ability and skills. They are well, so beautiful and growing up in so many aspects. We are very proud of them. We hadn’t really planned on taking care of children without a fully developed center with nice finished buildings, fences, water and electricity, but that was never our reality. Since September 2008 we have been taking care of the children that Papa God gave to us. We have slowly seen how God has changed our ideas of ‘proper’ order for developing and running a children’s center here. Seven and a half years later, we are still developing and building at the center. Some of our first children have grown up and moved on. Most of our children are now adolescents. They are full of spice and spunk. Our kiddos are growing, and they are loved by lots of mammas and papas now. In the beginning my hubby and I had our little family of five in Chimoio : two of our own children, and one Mozambican son. Then, we had four beautiful kids left at our door. The guard at our property let us know that someone dropped four children that they could no longer take care of. Today, two of our first Iris Chimoio kids are attending University….we are so amazed because when we met them that was one of their dreams for their future. Today it is a reality. They dreamed of having a good job and a house. Today that is a reality.

Sometimes our dreams feel like they are on hold. We have a vision and dream that we believe is from God for Iris Chimoio. We dream of a loving home for the boys and girls with plenty of hugs, help, food, and running water and electricity, and lots of adoptive parents. We dream of having a place for the leaders of the Iris churches in this province to gather together in prayer and communion to seek God together and share their testimonies, to have spirit-filled preachers and teachers encourage them, and to have important meetings to take care of the churches administrative business needs.

For years we have felt like so much of that dream has been on hold. But just like these two kiddos of ours, we believe that God’s dream for us isn’t on hold. He’s growing us down, shaking out the old-man thinking in us and the church, and according to his perfect timing, giving us land, sending children, pastors, missionaries, and funds to build buildings. Sometimes the hardest thing in our faith walk with Jesus is knowing the time and season. This time or season is definitely a transition. It feels like spring, summer, winter and fall at the same time. Its pretty possible that we are experiencing different seasons in different aspects because the dream is so robust.

At first we wanted other people to come help us make everthing happen right away. We were so pushy and motivated by lots of strong emotions like pity and pain. We felt like making things better quickly would lessen the pain. We’ve learned through the years that pain is not our enemy. Pain isn’t intended to tear us down. The pain that so many of us who absolutely love Jesus are passing through is often to sift us, and purify us. Somewhere in our fiery passionate love for Jesus we said, “YES!!! I want to be a part of your pure spotless bride!!!! I want to learn how to love you and be presented as a pure perfectly spotless bride.”

It has taken a few tough times and trial for us to see how silly our whining and straining must have looked to Papa God. He couldn’t love us any more or less for all of our efforts to please him and serve him. He loves us perfectly, and he loves his beautiful Mozambican bride perfectly. These churches that were birthed in the beginning of a powerful show of supernatural miracles and fiery revival have continued to pass through fire, for many in this region there has been pain along with the refining fire. This area has seen power, miracles and wonders. The churches have responded to Jesus in a mighty way, and these churches that are continuing to worship Jesus, and meet together are not sustained by visits from missionaries, food and offerings from the outside; they are sustained in spite of our weakness. They sustained by Holy Spirit. These humble pastors are loving their beautiful savior without having a nice place to meet at Iris Chimoio. This is because their lives are constantly being transformed by their faith. They hold onto Jesus, and we get to hear their testimonies as we sit with them, eat with them, and worship with them. Revival isn’t dependent on missionaries being here, missionaries get to testify to what God is doing. God is doing stuff where the missionaries haven’t arrived. God is loving his children weather it is his beautiful kids that he sent to our door, or his beautiful children in the bush. God is sustaining them, and loving them. Missionaries don’t come here to save the poor dying children. They come here to let Jesus save the poor dying children through them and at the same time learn the truth about ourselves. I was such a poor dying child without the spiritual life that I have gained from depending moment by moment on a kind loving Papa God. I have learned so much about myself and my weaknesses that I am amazed that Holy Spirit flows through me, Papa God adopts me, and Jesus chooses me.

I’m just a little more undone by Jesus love for me than I have been in a while…..It good to breath him in and just see through his perspective. We aren’t late, or any more messed up than he thought we would be by this stage in life. We are failures. We are dreamers, radical laid down lovers, children of Papa God who he delights in giving good gifts too.

So are you!!!! Don’t try to deny it. The truth will come around and smack you right between the eyes at some point. He loves you more than you can think or imagine. No princess fairy tale can define the measure of his compassion and passionate love. Its just far too romantic for us to grasp. With that it is easier to face the realities and dreams that Papa God has for us, and trust that he will work everything out in amazing ways.

We are trusting Papa God for his plans to work….that simple. And we aren’t lost sheep. Since he knows is plans, he is actually going to keep telling us or showing us what we need to know to go forward.

I love that!

I love yall!!!! Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Back in Mozambique

Well, I’m journaling in spite of the fact that we have no internet.

So this isn’t really going to be posted on June 3^rd. That’s ok. Part of the habit of posting blogs it actually to form a better habit of writing daily.

My hubby and I have been on three different airplanes, and one 4 hour bumpy bumpy road trip to get to our final destination of Chimoio. We arrived to our African home around 6 in the evening just after the sun was setting. It’s winter here. That means short days and less sunlight in the evenings. So we left the airport as soon as we could. We were a little held up in the immigration area, but we didn’t get stopped at all in the customs. That is a spot that can cause a real headache. So at least we only had one headache since the officer found a problem with our paper work. His solution wasn’t to pricy, but oh how we wish we had meticals to pay the fee. The price for a visa in dollars is way more expensive than meticals.

Anyway, that is taken care of. I tend to think it is a blessing for them as long as they are doing their job and following their convictions of what is ‘right’ according to their every changing rules and ‘laws’. So rather than be grumbly that we had to pay more for this or that. I am believing that Jesus knows all of our expenses, expected and the unexpected. He knows how to provide for all our needs and the needs of all his children. So if they were ‘wrong, or corrupt, or whatever’ in charging us this fee then I rather not only begrudgingly forgive them for something that is a frustration to us. But actually bless them for working diligently according to their convictions.

So I take a deep breath and bless them. God knows how to love his kids. I’m not blindly or knowingly giving into some corruption – I have an official receipt for this visa fee. So, he’s explaining that this is what he is supposed to do, and he is really helping us to be in the country legally….We ask a few more respectful questions because we had been informed differently, but the answer is emphasized that this is what has to be done. There is an option to pay for a 30 day visitor visa, that has been denied for lots of travelers, or possibly some fee for having an expired DIRE. I don’t know all the rules (and I probably won’t post the details on-line cause I don’t know if that is a good idea) but anyway

We have the entry border sorted. Our dear friend drove us to our home where his wife, our Mozambican pastor and his wife, and one of our beloved Mozambican sons had organized a lovely Mozambican dinner for us all to enjoy together. Am I emphasizing Mozambican enough? So yes, I’m HAPPY to be back in Mozambique! Over all, Yesterday was lovely no unexpected expense at the border going to ruin my day!

After greeting our friends and Mozambican son Ngenie, we sat down together and ate dinner. I had looked around our living room and notice very few changes in the way that we had left the furniture and dishes on our ‘china hutch’ shelf. It’s not really a china hutch. It’s a book shelf that we use for the prettier porcelain plate and things. We are so please to walk into a nice tidy home after such a long long long long one more lonnnnggggg journey. Did I mention three planes? Ok, I did….did I say how many hours? Cause there is a reason I haven’t written or posted anything in this blog….um like two eight hour flights and some 12 or 13 hours of layovers. Maybe more, I try to forget so it doesn’t ANNOY me….wouldn’t want to stay frustrated over that fact that we have all kinds of technology and can send people to the moon, but we still have to fly for a billion hours. Now I’m exaggerating…. Texans tend to tell tall tales. So please pardon me. And understand that I get kinda pooped from long travel, it is however, entirely worth it to see my big beautiful family!!!!!

So anywho, we all sat down for dinner and caught up on as much of over a year and a half of history as possible in about 3 hours of fun lively conversation. Our lovely South African friends said goodbyes and see you in the morning.

Then our dear Mozambican friends who have been caring for our home since October offered to heat up a kettle of water for our evening bucket baths since the water pump on the well has petered out for possibly the 6^th time. The motor does wear out or the electrical wires short. Stuff happens. I totally expected to come home to our Mozambican reality and give up a few western comforts. I did laugh to myself when I had washed my hands earlier after just walking through the door and heading to the restroom because I notice right away that there was a basin and bucket with water – indicating that the pump for running water was not functioning. I had really enjoyed some lovely long baths and showers during my little mini-vacation in California. I was especially savoring the steaming hot running water since I anticipated water shortages or the possibility of no running water. This is normal life in Africa. It takes so much time and energy to run a house here. These little details like a burnt pump or electrical shortage are a bit tricky here. Sometimes there aren’t resources to fix the pump, and sometimes there are. But the most important things are important and water can wait. I guess that is another thing on our list to find out about fixing. –bunny trail.

So anyway, I was going to write a bit about today, but I’m pooped and better head for bed. It’s been a very full day from about 8 in the morning to 9:30 at night. We saw friends who popped in to say hi, and organized some details for a party tomorrow. We met some lovely volunteers who became a part of the Iris Chimoio family of volunteers while we were away in the states. They just fell in love with the children and are SUCH a blessing!!!

God is good to us. So we had a lovely dinner out with one of our new friends, and we are so excited to see as many friends and as much family as possible while we are here for a short time.

Oh, and we are trying to find a yummy poisen for the rats who are building a lovely home in the roof of our rental house. I keep having visions of the rats from the CG film ‘ratatouille’ in my head. I’m a bit terrified that the whole rat colony will have more rat babies and drop through the old worn out ceiling under our old aging roof…..oh sweet Jesus, help us to not have rats dropping in on us via windows, cracks under doors or any other entry they find available…..

Housekeeping tip for living in Africa: try not to rent a house near a garbage dump that only gets emptied once a week if we are lucky!!!!!

Anyway, life if full of surprises here and we have a good laugh when the rats and cockroaches show up….they are notorious for finding the craziest hiding places…..some of our small kitchen appliances haven’t been used for months or maybe even a year, so guess who made little nests inside our coffee grinder? Yeah so that was a fun part of my day today…..finding where the little buggers where hiding…..because I was using my coffee grinder.

I totally drank that coffee too because the bug nest was in the underside of the grinder. We washed the bowl with the blades and wiped the electrical part down. As the little electric motor started whizzing and the beans grinding, I noticed one of those tiny tiny little cockroaches. I am used to them. Just kill them and wash the mess. There was a lot more than just one bug to kill however, and I got a little grossed out for about a second. I know why they are there, and that bugs are bugs….so I can logic my way out of being too annoyed. This is after all their happy climate – subtropical climate does mean that housekeeping is a constant battle again the buggies like cockroaches, ants, termites, mosquitoes, and flies. It’s all part of life here.

So welcome to my candid rendition of African homecoming…..

Hope you are not to jaded by my ramblings. I really do love living here, it is just more obvious some of the things that I had begun to take for granted as I spent so much time away from our home here. I will constantly be thankful for our parents offering three lovely bedrooms, an office and bathroom for us to stay in in Colorado. During our time there we have never killed a cockroach, chased a rat out of our room or taken bucket showers.  

All pretty normal things in our African life….and it isn’t torcher. It’s the reality of living in an undeveloped country in an old un-renovated rental house in an old neighborhood on a dirt road with so many contributing factors to a bug problems, rodents and electrical and water issues.

I’m comfortable here, happy here, and also happy in America. I will always be thankful to get clean at the end of the day. I will always celebrate running water a little bit more, or a lot more, than a bucket bath. But I know that it is a blessing to use a full bucket of warm water to get clean, when there has been a drought in this part of Moz. I know that Papa God has blessed our well and it has not dried up when others have. That’s why I’s still super thrilled that we have water! I do have a tendency to find the silver lining in the various circumstance that we face.

Tonight we were remembering that last year we were guests of a very affluent man in a powerful position in his government. We were very happy as guests in his penthouse apartment, and we are very happy to be guests in a home without running water, or even in a home with a dirt floor and grass roof.

Its good to just love on people and focus on what they live without, but that we can learn from them because they are genuinely happy with their lives. We see how JOYFULL they become when they know Jesus! They don’t want bigger houses, and more appliances. They want peace, love and JOY! They need to be able to face any situation with JOY, and that’s better than finding a silver lining in a grey cloud.

My husband and I love to give our Mozambican friends and family presents. They are so thrilled with a sweater, or lip-gloss.  They put on the clothes and wear them right away. They are really grateful, not asking for a receipt so that they can return the gift if it doesn’t fit.

I learn deeper heartfelt gratitude from my beautiful Mozambican friends because they don’t expect more stuff. They don’t worry too much about what they don’t have. They take care of what they do have, and are truly thankful when we give them presents. So I don’t worry to much about bugs and rodents that live here, I focus on hanging out with our friends. Drinking coffee with our guests, and eating meals to build friendships.

So the next time you see a mouse don’t squeesh it….Just kidding. Kill that thing if it is inside your kitchen and not a pet. But its really not a “woe is me’ problem. Its just a problem. The more ‘problems’ you can face with a calm cool attitude, the more and greater problems you can face with a calm cool attitude. You might even become a missionary and leave your comfort zone where lots of things that are considered big problems (like a non-flushing toilet because its clogged or the mechanism is broke) that are among ‘problems’ you might face everyday and learn to be an overcomer who is less focused on convenience (I do love convenience and comfort) and more focused on loving people and understanding their reality….Then it hurts less when I get a bug bite. I’m facing the challenges my friends face. If they can do it with a smile, then they can teach me how to do that too!

So here’s to overcoming the little and big frustrations, scares, and unwanted buggers in our lives as we are learning to love more people, more deeply.

Lots of love,

Missionary momma mia