Unto the Lord Overcomes Doubt

So yeah….preachy as it may be, it’s the truth.

Doing everything as unto the Lord is a perfect tool for overcoming doubt.

I was totally stumped a week ago while trying to do something that I do every day. I write. I write well enough that I barely have to edit my school papers, and I still get an A. I write to our staff and its natural and easy, not perfect but not difficult. It’s usually very easy for me to fill up a page with words and letters.

But last week I was totally stumped. I was an emotional train wreck crying, missing my husband who was hard at work in Africa, and loosing sleep. I had to try to pull myself together, or admit that I wasn’t able to get that letter done properly at the time that I wanted to get it done.

It was basically due right away. I learned that I needed to write a letter and send it asap. I didn’t do well. Usually, I do fine under pressure, but that was pretty bad. So, today as I took a few minutes here and there to work between a family hang out day (special 'during the week' family fun day because our meemaw was in town yesterday and today - and she needs to see her great-grankids!) we still had work to get done though. In between my sister doing haircuts, and my mom and meemaw playing with the baby and boys, my hubby and I snuck away to our computer and phone to connect with our team on the ground in Chimoio. Lots of talking, lots of chatting, and lots of laughing! We love our team! It’s great to have amazing people connecting with us and sharing our vision for the kids at the center, and for our hearts to love the lost and share Jesus.

Well, everything was crossed off my list – except one thing. I really needed to try again on that letter. I hate turning in things late – homework, office work, ministry work, you name it. Turning in something late is uncomfortable. How can we know what the response will be? I don’t. I sent in my first draft maybe ‘on time-ish’ but it was stinky. This was going to be better. I could feel it. My hubby is home, so I have stopped crying….I was crying just because I missed him. Seriously, I love him. Love being with him, ministering with him, raising our kids with him, having team meetings with him, having team conference calls with him, love discussing things with him and ....well you get the picture. It’s my preference that we do life, ministry and fun together.

Even though my hubby was near by, I still felt a bit unsure of how to try again. So I started my Word document with an unappealing attempt that got cut up and deleted . I stopped and typed my prayer. I have always loved writing or typing prayers, but this was a little different than asking for help.

I just wrote:

Dear Jesus,

If I was writing this letter to you, I would know exactly what to write.

Then I wrote the letter. When I was done, I changed the ‘who to’ and took out that first line.

Here's why it worked to overcome my doubt about a response from the person receiving the letter:

When I’m talking to someone or writing to someone who I know is thrilled to read my letter because they are absolutely, passionately in love with me then there is no doubt showing up in my letter. My words come across clear and concise – sometimes concise, I am pretty wordy. I’m less rambley writing to Jesus because I know that he knows. I don't have to try to explain. He already knows. I am more confident because I’m not trying to sell my abilities, skills or vision, I am telling him that I agree with his heart of the matter. His love makes my abilities shine, his love refines my skills. His Holy Spirit gives me vision! It’s not a matter of explaining who I am and what I'm doing, but that I understand why I am doing what I'm doing.

I am not explaining anything to Jesus that he doesn’t already know, I’m telling him that I am excited about his dream for my life. I am happy to tell him what I can see on the path that he put in front of my feet. It’s not about me getting things right and shiny and perfect. It's about me thanking him for being with me as I go forward. It’s changes what I'm doing to be Jesus focused, not me focused. It's ultimately me loving Jesus in other people that overcomes doubt. I don’t have to worry what people will think of me. Those who love Jesus will bear witness with my heart for them and our beautiful savior. Those who don’t yet know Jesus will be drawn closer to him.

Its simple! Loving Jesus helps us love people – all people.  When in doubt, fix your eyes on Jesus. It doesn’t have to take hours and hours, it can take a simple line in a letter that redirects your attention to the lover of your soul. It can take an instant to change a dreaded task into a triumphant victory – no matter the present outcome. By fixing our eyes on Jesus we successfully love the people around us. That is the greatest outcome! Its an eternal one.

Our God is practical! Never wasting a moment. Never losing ground. He is always loving each one of us. He is always gently drawing us closer to him. If we look for Him in every little detail of our lives,  we will always find him. That’s a promise.

Just think - Doing life for Jesus and to Jesus removes doubt that can muddle up normal thinking and processing. It really will change everything in our lives that needs changing. One detail at a time, one thought, prayer, letter, or deed turned towards Jesus is transformed into a loving, kind reflection of Christ to the world around us. As we love Jesus more and more people will keep falling deeper in love with Jesus and his beautiful bride. Lets be that beautiful bride. That’s the whole point! We all want to be desperately and totally loved!

We want to hear Song of Songs poetry written to us about being ravished by our beloved. We want to be lost in the one who calls us his dove. We want to be his favorite.

We are.

No doubt about it! We are totally, completely and perfectly loved! That’s good news worth sharing!

Lots and lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Writing writing everyday but not a blog in sight

I would have thought that title was followed by blank nothingness...this is my beautiful failure.... really I've been so busy writing to my hubby, the Iris Chimoio team, the office, or school everyday that there are so many days I didn't have words left to blog!!! 

Its so funny how many words are in front of me every day, and how often I am writing those words. Yet, there isn’t always anything to compose as a blog. Blogs are so journally, so free feeling in my brain. But so many people have an outline. I don't have an outline or a blog in mind.

Tonight is one of those nights.... I have written some blogs, and felt like I couldn't post them yet. But tonight, I have written a page of reading response to one of my summer classes text books in less than an hour. Did an edit, turned it in online without any concerns. I’m so confident about that, and rightly so. I guess. I have 100 percent on every assignment thus far. I can handle structured writing, but on Friday I even bombed that. grrrr. I mailed a strange email and haven't gotten a reply. must fix it!!!!

I had a weird feeling about writing after some interesting correspondence that left me questioning my ability to write anything. I tend to bounce things off of my hubby when I have a particularly stinky attitude. Anything that I am taking too personally, or not giving the person on the other side of the story the benefit of the doubt, I bounce off him. He is happy to re-direct my focus, and get me to look at the heart of the matter. If I can’t see that, the heart of the person I am about to smush.

No need to smush people. no smushing - leave that to Jesus and Holy Spirit. He's so very good at correcting and convicting us. His perfect kindness leaves us just almost unaware of his subtle ache for holiness. He doesn't pound us with guilt when we're in the wrong.

Deep sigh.

I don’t like my attitude. I hate when I have smushed someone and I didn’t wait and bounce my communication ideas off my hubby. He has a totally different personality than me, so all of my typical 'Jennifer'' assumptions are almost always so far off it should be funny. It would be funny if I didn’t take those particular things so seriously. Man are we different. His personality is far more introverted than mine, and his humor is sooo differnt. Very very diff-er-nt.

I’m kinda laughing at non-funny things like inside jokes, spelling mistakes and isms. Those barely translate in our international relationship. I’m looking at him when he’s laughing at something I think is entirely inappropriate – for example: kids playing with food or something yucky. We are different. He sees the kids having fun, I see the kids personally undoing all my cleaning efforts in order to specifically break mommy’s heart.

Right….that is an exaggeration, but good to think about. Most kids are not forward thinking enough to produce a perfect strategy that completely unhinges their mommies or daddies. It's usually funny little quirks about our personalities that we like to call buttons or triggers, and our little pumpkins or random colleagues have inadvertently discovered them.

I wish my personality had less quirks. Thankfully my hubby really does even me out so that most people think I am a pretty sane, reasonably kind person, who is sometimes even gentle. That is, in fact, the love of my life rubbing off on me. And, I specifically asked God for that when I was a teenager praying for my future husband every night. I had a list of personality traits, character qualities, special dates, and physical attributes I asked for in my future hubby. I literally asked that he would be my help-meet in building up my character where I recognized that I had flaws and shortcomings. He is the answer to my midnight prayers. He is the single most important person in my life, next to Jesus.   

I’m so happy the love of my life is on a  plane coming home. I will wait a couple days to send anymore not urgent emails, so as not so send something that makes me cringe when I go back and read it later.

Oh, Jesus. Help me be more like you. I want to be more sensitive to other people and not assuming their motives, or their hearts don’t have the best in mind for me. I need to be less of a meany. Thank you for helping me. I don’t even get it. I don’t understand how just breathing a prayer helps me see that I am forgiven, helped, loved and created in your image. You love to see me lean deeper into your heart so that I can love more people with different personalities, giftings, experiences and walks of life. You love when I  lay down your job of convicting, and pick up love. I’m not Holy Spirit. When I try to judge people’s motives - Holy Spirit's job - it comes across pretty stinky (poopy duty) in a way that is motivated by condemnation. I just look into Papa’s God heart and know that he not only forgives me when I’m not reflecting him, he empowers me to become more like Him in that moment.

Who does that? Who loves so intensely that correction is a delight?

Only Him. Only Jesus.

Inside his great heart we find peace, love and joy!

Be blessed as you lean deeper into his heart!

Lots of lub,

Missionary Momma Mia

…see, I think that weird mis-spelling is funny. I’m a dork, but a bit of an emotional one. I’m glad he designed my emotions to reflect His, and he loves my quirks so much more than I do. You too!!! He loves your quirks and humor even more than you do! He’s laughing with us so much more than we realize- like a papa who adores his lil’ kiddos. He loves us with lavish love!!

Goodnight

Scrappy Scrapbooking

Love me some Scrapbook Therapy J

Not just posting photos on social media!

Yep, I’m that kind of person who scrapbooks her pictures and fun stuff into massive memory sized photo albums. I take some seemingly worthless pieces of paper like film stubs or the tickets from the Eiffel tower and add them to paper that probably costs about a dollar, along with candy wrappers, and a photo or two. Then, along with some little cute or pretty stickers, the scrapbook page tells more of the story than the pictures can tell by themselves in a typical photo album with plastic sleeves for holding individual photos. I do print photos every once in a while so that I can scrapbook something new… or just look at photos in a frame that isn’t digital, a computer, or a phone…

Today, I used some paper that cost less than a dollar, some lace that was free, paper lace and pictures from our Colorado Honeymoon in 2004. I specified ‘Colorado Honeymoon’ because we did have a 2^nd honeymoon in Brazil a little after our first honeymoon in Colorado.

Random thought: I have heard of people advocating for married couples to get married and NOT have a honeymoon because of some weird study of other historical cultures. Not going to elaborate, because I don’t agree with them – but those historical cultures aren’t thriving anymore – just sayin’. I would like to point out that a Honeymoon right after the wedding, and basically whenever a couple can get away to have another Honeymoon, is IMPORTANT to us. Romance, love and intimacy don’t stay overwhelmingly present in our lives without the commitment and quality time they require to stay alive. So, I repeat…Honeymoons are important to us, and we advise married couples to have plenty of honeymoons, not just the first one after a wedding. (And to couples who feel like they don’t deserve one for whatever self-condemning reason – its not about deserving. It’s about loving well!) Time alone together is a beautiful thing….I’m totally going to make a plan for us to get away….

Ok back to Scrapbooking…

Anyway, I was scrapbooking today. Usually when I miss my hubby I will scrapbook some pictures from our wedding, honeymoon, or engagement. I am not in a race or on a time limit to ‘get her done’. It’s more like art therapy for me. I have scrapbooking materials from years back….My sticker collection that started when I was 8 has only grown and become more sophisticated. And the books I put the stickers in are way more fancy. Sometimes I use stickers to make a scrapbook page look awesome. It’s not about the stickers, paper, or picture. It’s about the combination of details that make a page look, and feel just perfect to me. I’m looking for the details to be cohesive and honest, but absolutely pretty. Most of all, I am looking at a memory and cherishing the time we spent making that memory. I’m using the photos of that memory to build a foundation for the future – our future together. I spend the time collaging, cutting, and pasting to strengthen my love for my hubby – who I am missing terribly while he is away.

So scrapbooking isn’t just therapy. It’s an act of love that most people can appreciate on some level. Why do I say that? I have seen how people are touched by a thoughtful friend who actually took the time to handwrite a note in a thank you card. I have cherished cards from my spiritual Mama, and from my spiritual papa. I have carried hand written letters from my parents in my Bible. I printed out love letters from my hubby when we were engaged and planning our wedding (They were emails cause he was in Africa and I was in America). Something about time spent to communicate how important someone is just touches people. We spend our time according to our priorities. What a gift to spend time with, or thinking about someone special.

I’m going to say this, and people who forget that I am a missionary, it might sound like preaching… cause it is. I’m sitting here listening to worship, typing about acts of love that show thoughtfulness, and I’m overwhelmed by how the details of my life are woven together like a masterfully designed tapestry. I notice that that emotion is because I’m loved. I know I’m loved by Papa God because I spend special time reading about His perfect character, and getting lost in Jesus love letters to us - His bride. I see His hand in my life because I recognize that the good things in life come directly from one person, not random fate, but a thoughtful loving Papa God. I am convinced that ALL goodness flows from one source. The only one who is Good! Its easy to see how much he loves me when I believe that.

Today, as I picked what pictures to turn into a scrapbook collage, I found a letter that I wrote earlier this year. It was a perfect component for my scrapbooking page today, and the message in the letter made my heart melty and smushed. I remembered my new Brazilian friend telling me how a trip to Mozambique was the start of a brand new dream in her marriage. I was reminded of my ‘first love’ for my hubby not only to remember the past, and build a foundation for the future, but to dream again. I have a specific dream with my husband that I will trust Papa God for, and in the same way that I spend time remembering my first love for my husband, I will spend time remembering my first ever first love: Jesus.

The reason I have someone special to scrapbook for: Jesus. The reason I can feel like an artsy fartsy page is perfect: Holy Spirit. The reason I can be so deeply connected with my hubby and dream with him is: my perfect Papa God. If you are not sure about my point here, I will spell it out. Remember your first love with God. For me it was a moment that I talked to Jesus on my knees by my bed as a tiny little girl.  Remember your first love, and let Him love you. Spend special time reading through his letters to you. Sometimes I read them over and over. It changes my spirit, Jesus words fill me up with such hope, Joy, and love that he changes me. I can’t be a mess forever – I am a little bit of an emotional mess without my lover, helper, and best friend. We do life together. Well, I’m less of a mess with Jesus. I am overwhelmed by Jesus’ thoughts towards me. His imagination is boundless – and my kids have wild imaginations! Jesus’ thoughts are so much better than mine. I think its wild when Holy Spirit points out some detail in my life or highlights a dream, but then God’s thoughts towards me become more and more evident in my life. I step into the reality of our dreams as I trust God’s perspective.

In my ultra-relevant scrapbooking analogy, Jesus sees the finished scrapbook – not just one or two finished pages full of one memory. Jesus sees the entire shelf full of scrapbook photo albums that are full to the brim from before our birth to after our passing. There is so much more from his side of eternity, and every little thread matters! In my scrapbook, every little slice of the paper cutter matters. Every sticker needs to be precisely placed on the most appropriate paper to highlight a detail or mask a flaw.

I really love a perfectly satisfying scrapbook page. I love hearing my son say that Mommy is so artistic. I love my husband taking more than thirty seconds to appreciate something that took me three hours to perfect. Yeah, three hours is a long time. I did hug kids in between contemplating sticker placement. We ate a meal, and I did stop and stare at the photos before I remembered that I should scan the photos because they are so old that they aren’t digital! Then I finally felt ready to grab the glue and make it semi-permanent.

I found a place for this latest scrapbook page in my wedding scrapbook. I was really happy to have special time alone with my hubby right after we said our vows, cut our wedding cake, and greeted our handful of wedding guests. Our Colorado Honeymoon was in a little old-west mountain town. I put our honeymoon with our wedding album because it’s all part of our love story’s first chapter. Its part of our beginning and our first love.

Whenever I miss my hubby, and his tenderness towards me, I look at wedding pictures. And in that light, considering that I spent a few hours staring at three pictures this evening, I must be really obviously missing him. That feeling of longing is a good feeling – for now. It shows that our relationship has a healthy level of loving connection. It also proves my point that I would be a sappy sad soldiers wife…

Ok starting to ramble. Bunny trails just pop into my head. Makes me think of my boxes of handwritten journals from when I was a teenager just full of nonsense. Ok -stop stopping that bunny trail and saving for another time.

It’s been fun. I could add a picture of my scrapbook page, but I have no idea how to do that from this tablet….really I’m not trying to get appreciation for my artwork. I am sharing how I cope with longing for my beloved. I’m sharing how I remember my first love. I’m encouraging you to remember, to breath in that feeling of utter desire, to relent under that weighty presence of Holy Spirit, and let that love change you into the perfect version of you that lives in the heart of Papa God and the Mind of Christ.

You are so loved!

Missionary Momma Mia

Time CrUnCHhh in Mozambique

Oh my goodness, I'm feeling it! I'm not even there, but we work together on almost everything ministry related, and the list keeps wanting to grow . Oh I am feeling the time crunch that my hubby is in while he wraps up loads of tasks before saying goodbye to Mozambique for a long while.

I wish that I had taken one more walk to the little market behind our rental house. I wish that I had taken the time to breathe in the earthy, smokey smell of the Mozambican air. I wish I had squeezed my kiddos one more time. I wish I had one more day to soak everything in, so my prayer for my husband in this ten day time crunch is that he has one full day of soaking up Mozambican sunshine, hospitality, friendship, and breath in rich Mozambican fragrances.

I love the smell of a wood burning kitchen fire, the smell of a dew damp field, fresh sun dried laundry, roasted corn on the Cobb at street corners, and sweet fruit as the vendors walk by with their round basin loaded up with pineapples, bananas or lichi. Those are my favorite Mozambican smells that tell me I'm on a leisurely stroll in my dusty little city in Mozambique. Ah, but I won't be in Mozambique for a while. Probably a year while I finish university,  and by that time the smell of my last t-shirt hand washed and sun-dried will no longer have the sweet memory invoking smell.

The smell of Mozambican sunshine lapping up the moisture from my shirt has lingered for these three weeks since I left my home in Mozambique.

I may have moved away for a season,  but my heart is always there, waiting for the next season of living in my African home with my big international family.
The funny thing about family is that weather you are near or far, the connection is unrelenting. That's a good thing. We need each other. Papa God designed us for deep loving connections. We're designed for love.

I'm thankful for the people who love me through the smooth sailing and the windy weather.
I love that talking with one of my oldest Mozambican son's after such a long time was one of the sweetest hours I spent during my brief time in Chimoio Mozambique.
The tasks are probably very important, and as long as they are evidence of our love for people we trust that each task will be accomplished in Papa God's perfect timing.

We are so perfectly loved by Him, and gently led by Holy Spirit. I'm certain that this time crunch will be a time of resting while we run, refreshing while we pour out, and rich encounters and God appointments while we trust Jesup to rule over our time.

He is the best and kindest King. He knows how to love each of us perfectly and give us the desires of our hearts at just the perfect time.

I believe that Jesus' perfection is evident in our lives as we live with Christ, and in Him. We don't achieve perfection through our efforts to love more, be sweeter, kinder, holier or more like Jesus; but as we receive his perfect love and trust Jesus with more of our hearts and lives we see His perfection, His attention to detail turning everything to our good in a way we had never imagined.

Don't be afraid to let Him love you. All the sacrifice and suffering isn't important if we don't delight in his love. It's the only way we can love at all. We love people,  places, cities, nature, activities, accomplishments and more because we stop rejecting Jesus' love for us. We breath Him in and just trust.

It's awesome to accept Jesus' love, it changes every aspect of our lives.

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

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

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

Remember to love

It’s hard to know what to write after the very serious blog that I wrote the other day. That’s where my emotions were. Now I need to figure out how to let them heal even more.

I know that I was planning on finding the first thing that I had sent as an update in 2004, but I couldn’t find it in my old emails. I might have uploaded it on myspace. And that has changed since then. Dad said that he might have it saved somewhere. Who knows.....

I ran across some paper print out of an update I emailed in 2004 that was saved inside a Bible, but it is not there now. It looks like I can’t use my earliest writings as a reference. Not today anyway.

But I can still remember, and getting things out is a big deal. I remember when there were no famous books or sermons to teach me what love looked like. I remember when there were no big famous missionary rock stars. I remember people listening.

That was a long time ago though.

I do remember that we had to back then was think and talk.

It wasn’t a lot of talking though, because we didn’t have many people to talk deep things with. Not very many people could understand. I did have my mom. She called me, and my spiritual mom called me. They both wanted to check on my and my husband and our bun in the oven. I didn't know exactly what to say. I did finally spill the beans to mom. She listened really quietly. I think I could hear her crying. I had really moved to a new place where death was one of my biggest culture shocks. I had so much to learn. I had so much to remember. I had to remember why I was there. I had to remember what my calling was, and how much God loved the people he called me to come and serve as a missionary. I had to remember so much.

I had to remember to love. I had to relearn how to love. Now just because I was a newly married wife and an expecting mother. I had to learn what love looked like in the new place we were living. I trusted missionaries who had been there longer than me, and national pastors who were are dear friends to help me understand what love typically looks like in the mew culture I found myself deeply swallowed in. Learning to love from friends is good, but it isn't perfect. It isn't the whole picture.

Learning what love looks like from anyone other than Jesus is going to produce dutiful attempts to love. Love looks like something. It really does, but it’s not only about giving food to the poor and clothes to the naked.

Love does look like something to the poor and to the rich. Love looks like someone a little bit different to each one of us. When we are too focused on ‘loving’ others we forget that love flows from an intimate relationship with someone who is the source of pure love. Jesus is love.

If we just use our connection with God and Jesus as a wish list for helping other people, then our energy will eventually dry totally up. Imagine that our love or ability to help someone in need is like water in a swimming hole in a river. When the swimming hole is cut off from the rest of the river it eventually gets shallower and shallower, until it dries up.

We do need to ask God for strength to be light and salt, but it’s pointless to ask without receiving.  

A good father knows how to give gifts. I didn’t have to ask my dad two times for money to go out to eat with my friends. How many times are we rattling off our requests? "Dad, I really need medicine for this little boy, I really need food for this widow. I really really need medicine, and food. Can you please give me what I need?" The answer is on the way. And the pause between when the medicine arrives and the food is ready isn’t always a delay I his answer. Sometimes we need a few minutes to stop and wait on his thoughts about how to give the food or medicine. Sometimes we need a few more minutes just to sit and Breath with God. We need to look at his face and see our reflection in his eyes. He loves us so much. His love is our strength. Communion with him changes the way we think. His thoughts become our thoughts, all the sudden we can see that there is something blocking the flow of his love and compassion to our swimming hole, our water well.

Sometimes it’s time to unbury the "well" by digging deeper because the dam is too strong. Maybe God is redirecting the flow for a season for us learn how to dig deeper down. Maybe God is giving us a tool to tear down a sloppily thrown up dam, or clean up some garbage that is dirtying the water and turning it into muck and mud. The answer to our prayers is different because each one of us are facing different needs, different seasons and different abilities to steward the flow of God’s river.

If a large deep river gets stopped up that’s a gigantic dam, and a huge effort to fix the flow or redirect the flow into something else. It’s going to change the environment around where a river used to flow freely. It might be the season for that environment. We don’t always know all the details or plans God has. He might actually want to see changes in a place that we don’t feel comfortable with. The flow of water is still present, but it is harnessed for a different purpose. Sometimes a gulley or a channel is being dug to join different streams together. It can be dirty work, causing the river to muck up for a while until the dirt settles back to the newly formed river bed.

We don’t always know what is happening with the flow of God’s Holy Spirit. We don’t always understand why his love is washing over us in waves or flowing through us as a hot spring that bubbles up from under the ground. It’s too difficult to say that God’s presence is only this, or only that. That his love goes this way, or only in this direction. We don’t always know his thoughts. Even though we could know more of his thoughts. We could just spend time with him and learn more about his thoughts and his ways. We could begin to see how he sees and move how he moves. Imagine so much unity that we flow with God like a seamless dance partner. 

We could begin to identify different aspects of his character that are new to us, we didn’t ever taste that kind of mercy and kindness before, or miraculous provision of finances, or multiplication of food. There are so many details that only God has taken into account and made a fabulous design. If we spend time talking with God, listening to God we spend more time delighting in his perfection. More of his perfection will be revealed in our lives.

The food is ready right on time to go and feed the kids and give the medicine, but I didn’t wait on God to hear everything that Holy Spirit was explaining or look at the details of the vision to get a better understanding of His plan. It’s important to sit with God and listen. I learned the hard way. I got what I needed to give away and ran out of enough love to follow every detail of instructions available to me. I could have been more attentive to one child’s needs and learned much more quickly how to treat malaria. I mourned the loss of our cute little neighbor. I also learned right away, and never forgot, that I needed to sit with Jesus and focus on his lovely face. I said “ok” to trying to save as many people around me from suffering as possible, that I began to suffer deeply. It is one thing to share in the suffering of Christ, but completely another to suffering needlessly out of duty.

Christ doesn’t want us to be servants tending to everyone's needs. He also doesn't want us to grieve endlessly for the loss of his little pumpkins, or pretend like it doesn't hurt. He knows that we are living in a world where we will face sorrows. He weeps with us. One of my most treasured scripture verses as a teenager was: Jesus wept. (John 11:35 shortest verse in the whole Bible) I felt so comforted by a real person with skin on and emotions, it showed me that his heart broke when he was deeply sad. I felt like a person who was understood by the creator of the universe.

I don’t think he was communicating to tell his friends, “I have a great plan here, my Dad has got this taken care of.” With his tears. No, he was genuinely sad. His friend died. Yes, He knew that his Abba Papa God would be glorified through the miracle that would follow. He also knew that his friend had suffered. I saw his compassion and his love. He doesn’t celebrate our suffering. He weeps.

My heart was mended by knowing that verse. Many times those words were like balsam over the wounds in my broken heart. I don’t literally blame myself anymore for the deaths that happened near me during my first months as a missionary. I repented so many times for not looking at the details. Papa God comforted me. I did learn incredibly valuable lessons through my experience. I did repent many times when there was a thing that I should have done differently. I did also learn to trust that God in his awesomeness knew all of my weaknesses and inabilities. His ability to save the life of a child or young mother was not hindered by my feeble attempts to love the poor around me.   

I have to trust him. I have utter hope and dependence on God because my abilities and skills are so tiny, his are infinite. That little guy isn’t suffering anymore. It is truly solace for my soul. My typical inflow of spiritual food and water was changed when I moved far from the community where I had lived for years. I had to learn how to unbury wells for dry seasons, and prepare the riverbed for a flash flood. I had to discover new sources of energy and strength to be a missionary.

It wasn’t easy but the most important thing I learned in those first few months of being a missionary was to stay thoroughly soaked in God’s river. When it was harder and harder to stay soaked I had to begin to steady my gaze on his eyes and find the details of his plan. When I was finished digging down, and he was ready to let the rain fall, I had to climb back to the surface of the riverbed, or I would be drowned in the bottom of the well. When I came up I found the clouds ready to drop buckets of rain. I knew I had a fun swimming hole to come back to anytime I needed refreshing while he was redirecting the flow of the bigger stream.

I love swimming. I had to remember to love me first. 

Take care of you. Spend more time with God than you think you can afford. Not just praying while driving and stuff like cleaning and praying; but really meditating on God’s word, his goodness and his great plan for you. That’s loving you. He might direct you to get a manicure, or discover a cure for cancer. He’s clever. He’s perfectly wise and knows how to love us, and he knows how to love other people through our lives laid down as a living sacrifice.

He’s not looking for a burnt offering. He wants a living, burning passionate lover. Then it will be difficult to NOT spend time with him. He will have to remind you to get back to cooking or cleaning and the other important stuff. He knows how to love us, and all we have to do is let ourselves be loved.

Remember to love you….as much as you love you, will be the measure that you can love somebody else.

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

The shadow of injustice

It’s the sneaky little things that infiltrate our society that we pretend are ok because we have some level of dependency on those who willingly or unwillingly, or knowingly or unknowingly perpetrators of injustice.

I see the path of injustice throughout history. I examine the past to gain understanding and perspective. My husband and I might have an over developed since of justice, or there might be a purpose for our instinctive fight against the slightest sign of injustice.

How do we stand against injustice and fight? It’s simple. We keep going forward. We keep caring for our big family. We find joy in giving presents to our Mozambican children.In very poetic words we stand against injustice and fight by loving fatherless and motherless children, by extending grace those who have none for themselves, and by being a voice for children and women who don’t have a voice in a nation where there is little history of justice and peace.

My husband and I feel passionately about improving the lives of the poor in Mozambique, but we can’t walk around every day all day hounding the world around us with our sentiment. We have no desire to do that. It’s also not in our personalities. There are some who do, that is their social ability and gifting. We are so proud of their “yes” to Jesus. This is my ‘YES’ to Jesus. It might not look like much compared to awesome speakers, influential leaders, and gifted administrators (I study admin cause it’s not my natural talent, but a skill I need to acquire!) There are people who have more than enough, they live in the promise land! That’s great. I want them to draw me a map to get there.

I’m serious. But their path is probably perfect for their feet. I will get there on my path.

Me, I can’t pretend to want to speak in front of a crowd. Its not my dream. If it’s important then I will get up and say something, but it is not my passion. Nor is it my husbands. We are both passionate about worshipping God, and loving his children. We can do many things, but we aren’t that power couple who go into places leading people to Jesus and the mission field. We are terrible at that. Seriously. Not self-bashing. I’m just saying the truth is we are better at spending time with the kids, and taking care of their needs than other things right now. We are having to that from across an ocean for the last year and half and its crazy hard to hear problems and have to solve them over the telephone, or via emails. But we have managed. Now after such a long time, we are going back to our last home for a short time. I’m not sure how to face it? I’m not sure how to go forward? It’s not pretty.

Often time we go forward in a wobbly way. We aren’t always even sure if we can keep going forward the way we were before. But we make sure that kiddos have meals and get to school. We have Facebook chats with the older kids and read how their day is going. We pray with our kids and for them. We have WhatsAp conversations with the Iris Chimoio River of God team. We stay together across an ocean. It’s pretty amazing.

Funny enough, I can manage to write. I write to our kids, our team, our offices, our supporters. I want to do that more. I can even manage to write a blog. But it’s so quiet. No one is compelled to run to an altar and cry out to Jesus for the poor because of the words of my emotional blubbering. I have read books like that. Maybe one day, if it is important there will be something I’ve managed to write that causes hearts to be open, but its not because I’m chasing a story like a journalist, or performing a monologue like an actor.

I do want to witness the suffering of humanity, but not for the sake of journalism or suffering. But because I want to know Jesus. I know he is where there is suffering. I know he is JOY. What is JOY without understanding sadness? I am willing to go places outside of my comfort zone if only to see with my own eyes the depths of unspeakable love of Jesus poured out over his beloved creation when he took our sorrows and grief into his heart. It’s not the summation of the little and big sorrows of one individual person. The most immense sorrow of an individual is nothing to diminish, but it is so much more than our hearts can bear.

Jesus in all of his unconditional compassion bore up every single moment of suffering, sorrow and grief in all of history from the beginning of time when he spoke the words of creation to now and all of the days ahead of us. This is intense.

This is far more than anyone has ever suffered, he did all of this for love for us, even unrequited love. What can I do but look at the pain in someone’s eyes and weep with them. How can I not share in their moments of sorrow?

I have been surrounded by sorrow. I witnessed so much suffering and death in the first months of my life on the mission field in central Mozambique. I quickly learned that no one wants to hear the sad stories of children dying, and widows houses falling down around them. Not many friends could bear to hear the stories of mother’s abandoning their children because of absolute poverty and hunger. I learned that those stories only cause people to turn away. I couldn’t turn away. I learned to tell the happy stories of the babies who were saved, and the widows and single moms who had plenty to eat.

I learned who I could share my deepest sorrows with, and who I could share my victories with. 

Victories are celebrated by many. Sorrows are carried by few. The burden of sorrows and sadness is very lonely, and yet Jesus took it all. Every single moment, every tear, there is never a lonely sorrow or moment of sadness. His sacrifice means that we can grieve in his company, cry on his shoulder, and celebrate His victory as ours.

I’ll admit it, I don’t know exactly how to pinpoint why I’m so upset with the shadow of injustice that popped up over me and my husband tonight, but I kinda know what triggered it. I know that I have to face the little things with confidence and courage to continue to love our children. That courage helps me get through customs with presents for our children. That courage helps me face the soaring cost of food in central Mozambique. That courage helps me write a super emotional blog and post it for Mother’s day.

This is my mother heart. I don’t want to break yours. I would usually write something like this and close it away for no one to read. But my heart says that I want share this internal battle. I don’t have a soapbox to stand on. I don’t have a crowd saying she’s a rockin’ awesome missionary, a few good friends do cheer me on! I don’t have a bunch of things that, well,  I must not need. I do have this opportunity to share my heart before I lose courage.

So, I will leave you with my courageous thoughts:

Why is it that children and youth are intrigued by super heroes in the justice league? Why is it that lawyers and judges, police officers and public servants are impacted by super heroes? What is it about speaking up for the ones who can’t speak for themselves that causes us to feel empowered?

I believe it is what we would have wanted someone to do for us when we didn’t have a voice.

Find a fiercely victorious super hero without a dark shadow in their history and their character is probably shallow. We all want to know that there is someone standing for us on the other side of this battle. We want to know that there is someone cheering us on through this present victory. We all want to know that someone has conquered the darkness in the shadows.

What is in the shadow? That is a question that so many of us think we are prepared to answer. I long for deeper awareness. There is something in the shadow that looms over me, but I am almost never aware of. As soon as the light is shed on one subject, the shadow seems to fight back. It tries to grow stronger.

I’m not totally aware of the shadow that stirs my emotions of uncertainty tonight. If I was, I’m certain that I would insist on it’s silence. I don’t feel like facing another thing. What if Jesus is asking me to look past the injustice, past the darkness looming over me and into his beautiful face? Will I deny him this time? Will I focus on the darkness looming overhead, or simply press through to see the face of my super hero savior on the other side of this battle?

Keep going forward.

Keep going forward with Jesus. He's always with us! 

Lots of love, especially for courageous moms!!!! 

Missionary Momma Mia 

Faced a shadow today

I was really surprised. I waited in a slightly crowded room and chatted small talk with a few other students until one of my professors from more than a decade ago came to speak with me. He was by no means a ‘dark or shadowy person’. I still felt a little bit intimidated though, possibly because it was evident that he is a man in charge. I observed genuine kindness and humility in his character as he responded to the respect, honor, and esteem that people showed him. He wasn’t haughty, proud or overly persuasive. How had my memory managed to put a significant level of blame on him for me not getting my degree over a decade ago? My memory painted him as somewhat of a bully, yet, I didn’t see that at all today.

It’s hard to admit it, but the shadow was more likely my own projection of failure, pride, and stubbornness. Everyone has their hidden faults, and it is impossible to discern the depths of someone’s character in a day. I'm not saying he's perfect, at the same time the second “first impression” of this shadowy figure in my memory was a positive one that opened a flood gate of positive memories.   

It wasn’t a bad shadow anymore, it was just a thing that I hadn’t faced since I walked away from my University over twelve years ago.  I finally spoke with someone who I was certain would be intimidating and probably disappointed in me. I found out that my memories are good at re-writing history. He was kind and considerate, and not the least bit disappointed. That was surprising. My perspective was wrong.

It’s amazing to me how a memory that was unpleasant, or would cause me to doubt my own self-esteem built up strong emotions around the facts and twisted other characters in my history into “unseemly” characters – something was wrong with them, not me.

It was childish behavior. I think of my 20’s as the years that I thought I could conquer the world. I didn’t recognize my own physical and mental limitations. I pressed myself to try and graduate with nineteen credit hours for my final semester. It didn’t work. One thing that did console me was that those who counseled me to register in less classes were right. It took me a while, but I really am thoroughly grateful for advice from people who have more experience than me.

I should have trusted God’s voice when he clearly told me that I shouldn’t register in any classes in 2003/04 school year. He knew how busy that season of my life was going to be, and all the self-doubt that the long route was going to cause. I was so adamant that he had given me the dream of going to get my degree in the first place. How could I be done with only three years of community college and college completed? I argued with God, and he was quiet when I asked him to help me register for the right courses for the semester. Ever semester before I literally could see the class section highlighted as if it jumped off the page of the catalog (back then the class schedules were still big printed books). I relied on Holy Spirit to confirm all the details of my college schedule. It was his idea. I never would have gone from music and art to Administration? There was a night in India in 2000 when I was singing on the balcony, and I could feel a tangible embrace from Jesus. He whispered in my spirit, “Would you go back to get a degree in Administration?”

I knew it was the greatest idea, because I would have never thought of it! I hadn’t thought beyond graduating from high school and getting to the mission field. I was 18 and ready to go live in Mozambique the first time there was an open door. I thought for sure I could go from a discipleship training program to a base in Mozambique. There wasn’t an open door yet. The missionaries that I knew with that specific training program where headed to a different country. God knew all these details before he asked me to get a degree in Administration. I didn’t know them. I just made a promise to go forward with Jesus, even if that meant to go back to the USA to study. That is what I did.

I never imagined that I would be able to start the degree plan in 2002, after transferring from a community college, and finish somewhere like 2016 or 2017. That wasn’t even in my imagination, but anything is possible.

I used nearly all of the non-profit administration course material that I had studied during these ten years that we lived in Mozambique. In fact, the first time I ever heard Heidi speak at a Voice of Apostles Conference in October 2002, she ended one of the morning, or afternoon meetings by asking if there was anyone with administrative skills willing to throw their life away for Jesus in Mozambique. I had waited my entire life since I was eleven years old for that open door. I knew it was the perfect moment for me to be there, and the perfect invitation. I threw my hand straight up in the air like a child in class asking to be picked as the volunteer. She saw me, of course I had sat on the floor near the very front of the room during that entire meeting. She prayed over a big group of on-fire Christians who burned for Jesus and longed to carry his glory to the nations. I had such radical encounters with God during that conference. My heart was so thrilled as she invited me to come to Mozambique.

I did visit Mozambique, met Joao Wenningkamp and the rest is history.

Who would have thought that going to go to college to study administration would have been one of my strongest signs from God this was my open door? She and her husband were the missionary couple I could learn from on the mission field. Me hearing God’s voice and knowing is what gave me the courage to drop everything in Spring 2004 to get married and move to Africa. I never understood why or how I would ever finish my degree with such a big gap away from the school, but in the meantime the school that was a college became a university the year that I reregistered as a return student.

When God spoke to me in India about getting a degree in Administration, I saw a vision of a sign that said ‘University’. I thought that was just my imagination, and not an important detail.

Important details are IMPORTANT. God is in the details. Well he holds all of creation together, but anyway.  The details matter. I’m getting a degree from a University. The shadow seemed dark and billowing, but it was just because I needed to turn the light switch on to shed a little light on the subject.

Light-switch on! Going forward with Jesus at my University. I feel pretty cool about that.

Praying for hope and courage to find that light-switch for anyone facing a shadow. The truth will be glorious, maybe a little bit difficult to face, but totally liberating.

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Face the shadows with Confidence

If I could turn back time.....

If I could rewind time I would try to rewind to specific events of conflict, pain and trauma to undo some of the deeds I’ve done, replace the untrue thoughts I believed, and take back some of the words I’ve said. But as we all so sorrowfully understand, just rewinding life in our minds isn’t enough to relive and redo moments of regret, pain, or failure.

Our memory provides that amazing chance to revisit and reconsider if it was only poorly chosen words and actions, or lack of deeds that might be appropriate if we could only have a second chance to try again.

I faced my history through the eyes of a survivor of trauma, pain and neglect. My parents are wonderful, not perfect, but also not abusers. I did feel neglect from my birth father, and his family though. The early abandonment may have caused some trauma to me as a baby. I don’t know much. There is only so much I can actually remember. But other events in my life did leave me with trauma. In some random times in my life, the trauma was triggered and I didn’t even realize. For years the trauma and pain caused my life to be jilted through the eyes of pain and victimization.

It was a difficult thing to face the fact that so many times my point of view was tainted with catastrophizing events, and demonizing most of the people in my life who caused me any additional pain. I definitely ran from people who started to hurt me before confronting them because I couldn’t bear the pain any longer. I learned at an early age that my perspective was the only one I could trust because some figures of authority were what I understood as ‘wrong’.

As a teenager, I saw Jesus eyes as big as clouds during an altar call at a revival event at the church our family attended. I had been in visions and seen angels and demons before, but this was different. It was the first time I saw the eyes of Jesus looking down at me as big as clouds, and as close as breath.

I could hear his voice whispering in my heart while I looked into his beautiful reflective eyes. They were full of life and compassion. That was my first encounter with Jesus where I could see his eyes. Then I felt Jesus’ comforting embrace as he told me that I needed to forgive my father. I hadn’t ever considered that the pain and anger I had harbored in my heart towards my birth father had been growing into bitterness and un-forgiveness.  For most of my entire childhood I had been pretty free and happy, but when someone caused me pain I was talented at causing them to feel totally guilty. I could have provoked an incident, but I wouldn’t apologize or let them think that I even needed to. I felt that I had done nothing to apologize for, and I learned to dramatize any event where I felt jilted. I would cause the other person to feel 100% to blame, and I was the innocent victim. I became practiced at shifting blame, and presenting myself as the good and pure child.

This vision of Jesus was the first turn of events in my life were I realized that not only did I need to forgive birth father, but I needed to change my heart attitude towards other people.  I learned to forgive, and begin to consider if I needed to forgive someone who hadn’t done almost anything to me at all. My thoughts about forgiveness had been rudimental and childish before I saw the vision of Jesus' eyes.

It took a long time and some wonderful mentors to help me develop more mature thinking about guilt and forgiveness. But at the time, I didn’t have anyone to talk to about my deeper thoughts. I’m not sure that I told anyone about my experience on the floor during the altar call because I had been taught that no one can see the face of God and live. I didn’t realize that there was so much more to learn from that experience with Jesus. I was more afraid of being told that I was seeing visions from the Devil, so I kept pretty quiet about it. I may have told mom that God spoke to me telling me that I need to forgive my father. But that was all I remember mentioning. She did ask me what I needed to forgive him for, and if I was able to forgive him. I answered, and that was basically the end of that. It was a one-time thing, not a life lesson to explore and study. I never thought to ask the men in my life who preached and taught about their shared application and understanding of certain scriptures if it was ok to see Jesus eyes. I definitely didn't ask them if it was ok that I saw his face as he came so close to me and held me when I was frozen to the floor during an altar call.

I felt that I knew what they would say, so I may have mentioned in loose terms questions about people physically seeing God’s face. I got the answers that I expected. They were consistent with their previous teaching, “No one can see the face of God and live”.

I couldn’t possibly try to explain to them that when I was in a trance at the church altar, or that I had seen the roof fade away and the clouds roll back to reveal Jesus eyes. Then I saw his face as he drew me closer to him. I didn’t know the words ‘trance’ or ‘spiritual eyes’. In my thoughts and understanding at the time seeing with my physical eyes and spiritual eyes was the same thing.

It took me years to understand the difference between seeing with my eyes, and seeing with my spiritual eyes. I had seen such a tangible vision of Jesus that I couldn’t explain or differentiate between real or spiritual. The struggle that remains now is what is more real? We in the Western cultures see the physical world as real and concrete – while the spiritual world or spiritual realm can be overlooked as mere imagination or fanatical thinking.  Or is this question just a tangent to keep us from facing the lessons that we learn while in a vision or trance?

It’s really hard to grab a hold of the solid facts of the kingdom of heaven when they are attained by faith if we want them to be found in a book or teaching. It was by faith I looked into Jesus eyes and learned to forgive my birth father. By faith I learned to recognize God’s voice when even elders in my church couldn’t lead me into deeper understanding of spiritual things but denied that my ‘visions’ were from God. Right there I had to forgive them, because I knew that Jesus had spoken to me, and shown me his face.

I have sought after God in his word, through prayer in the Holy Spirit, and fellowship with like minded believers. I still have more lessons of faith to learn! I have learned some amazing lessons up to now. These lessons have shaped my life and in some ways I have been able to rewind and redo some mistakes or failures in my life. I can’t go back in time and confront a father and mother who separated for important reasons. I can’t go back in time and ask spiritual leaders why they did or didn’t respond in what I perceived as more helpful ways to my questions, or why I didn’t feel safe asking them more questions. But I can go back to the person or people who I still need to talk too and ask questions now.

I’ve learned the power of forgiveness is liberating, and life changing. I’ve also learned that the power of God can lead us to reconcile and restore things or relationships that were broken. In an attempt to restore old things I am going to talk with people that I felt were the ‘bad guys’ in my life. Through the pain I heard everything they said as if from a position of authority that they might use to abuse me.

I am going to face my history with an open heart, open eyes, and open ears to hear, see and feel what really was lurking in the shadows. I might even go back and revisit some places of pain to rebuild my confidence. At the time of some conflicts, pain or places of trauma in my story I was unable to verbalize the experience. Well, now I’m ready to verbalize, write, talk or paint or draw. I will commit to do whatever it takes to be able to confront the shadows with confidence.

My life will go on as I confidently confront the shadows, and in the meantime I’m finishing a semester of Uni going to a wedding end of May and planning a trip back to Mozambique.

So my blog will literally be all over the place next month and the months of June. I hope to be able to write something and not worry too much about internet when I am in Africa.   

Friends who pray, please do pray for us. I know that we missionaries don’t like to talk about the pain of being missionaries. But sometimes the pain is to deep to share, almost like a war wound. When we go back to our old home, and our children and team in Iris Chimoio, we will be full of love and Joy for seeing them. We also have such a pang of sadness that our own three boys are going to be in Colorado while we travel. Please pray for us as we go forward with Jesus to love on his beautiful bride in our corner of Mozambique. Please pray that I can confront some of my shadows from being a missionary mom. Please now that I am a terribly normal person that was pretty broken, and in some areas still am broken, yet just because we say “Yes” to Papa God when he says, “Will you go?”

He can do something amazing with our little lives poured out as a living sacrifice. I’m so excited to see our kiddos. I’m so looking forward to hugging our mammas and the big Iris Chimoio family!

I pray that when you think about saying "no, I’m too much of a mess", you can remember to face the shadows with confidence while still living, and saying Yes to Papa God!!!

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Spontaneously Perfect Perfect Timing

We had such a lovely time away from the house. It was silly. At first we started with shopping for the boys’ spring sandals. It was interesting to say the least. We got cheered on by some of the staff who understood the joys and challenges of shopping with three boys. 

We really had no other plan that to get some shopping done, but while in line to check out I told my husband that I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day at home either. It looked so lovely outside. So we went to get some food and drink for a spur-of-the-moment picnic somewhere outside and closer to the mountains than the shop.  

We took our newly purchased sandals and sandwiches to a windy park in Longmont. It was so windy that we left before we spent an hour there.  Funny thing was that we got out of our car at 12:34. We let the kids play for a few minutes before standing near a lake trying to hide from the whipping wind. We ate our sandwiches and drank raspberry lemonade with a goose standing nearby.  Then the boys threw pine cones into the water from the dock.

When we were nearly chilled to the bone, we got back into the car at 1:23. I just thought it was too funny not to note that all the numbers were in numerical order when I looked at my car clock…

Not really special but it was 12.34 when I left the car, and 1.23 when I got back into the car…. I thought how nice our disorganized little adventure was going, even though we had gotten pretty chilly in the wind, the sun was still shining down on this side of Colorado and our boys were thrilled with the idea of a mountain drive. Instead of heading back home, we decided to get closer to the Rocky Mountains.

We took back-country winding roads through farms and ranch neighborhoods before we got to Lyons. We went a little deeper into mountain country without getting all the way to Estes Park. We stopped in a slow vehicle pull off on the side of the road like my parents did so many times when we were young. There were some perfect rocks for climbing, and surprisingly, less wind to chill us to the bone. It was glorious to see my little guys challenge their fears. Our middle son was cheering on his little brother as they climbed higher up the rocks. They had thought that heights were kinda scary, but being up on top of the rocks was AMAZING! That is their simultaneous words, not mine.

They loved it. It was perfect for the boys, but it only wet their appetite for more rock climbing. We thought about heading back, but the boys were loving their first spring drive up into the mountains this year. We drove a little while longer until we found another amazing spot to let the boys run around and climb.

We fell in love with the spot and hope to be able to call it our family mountain ‘spot’. It was our family mountain spot for today.

Driving back home my husband and I listened to the boys talk about their favorite part of today. They were all happy to have rock climbed on a mountain! We won’t tell them that it wasn’t the real thing because they didn’t have ropes and anchors – well they didn’t need them. The rocks they climbed up were less than a story high, but a kid’s perspective is great. They were on top of the world and their view from up top was spectacular!!!!

I wish I could have a kid’s perspective in life more often. After we put the boys to bed I realized this week is going to be a doozy- that’s southern for complicated and busy! I was just trying to breathe through my double-booked schedule for the up-coming week. I’m not sure how it’s going to work out. But, I will go to the highest place that I can climb too and look at the scenery from there.

It’s that place where I’m certain that the beauty around me will inspire me to look for God’s perfect order and trust Holy Spirit is with me in each moment, helping everything to come into his perfect order in his Perfect Timing.

And now it’s 11:23…It’s so funny to look at the clock and notice weird minutes - order, multiples, count downs.

Wow, childish right? That doesn’t have to mean a thing, But it can. It can be a simple reminder to trust in Papa God that your day has been blessed with many beautiful moments that shined on you today! Even if it doesn’t feel that way, you might want to crawl up in Papa God’s lap and ask if you can see from his perspective. Papa God has an awesome vantage point, and he is the perfect Father. If you ask for a minute in his lap, all of heaven will be still to prefer you. No one is worried about time with Papa God. Those who see him know that he is always willing to have a cuddle or wipe a tear. For me tonight, he helped me breath. It’s all going to be ok.

It’s all going to be just fine. Breath, have a cuddle and a giggle with Papa God. The view from here is GREAT!  Trust Jesus to order your steps, I have no idea how we found our family spot today there was no GPS! Holy Spirit lit our path today. We did a double take, hooked a u-turn where it might have been illegal and found the best tall and safe rock to let the kids climb on. God is so practical, and he cares about the details!  

You are full of precious details! There is no one like you!

Lots of love and Joy,

Missionary Momma Mia 

WooWhoo! Say What? You don’t say!

"Say What?"  "You don't say!"

A friend said that to me on Facebook and that was my response. It was so much fun. I thought, “Why not give an entire blog such a fun silly name.”

“WooWhoo!!!! could be the name, but I was also laughing, clapping, and making lots of noise the day before yesterday.

That was such a highlight of my day on April 13 that I needed to tell the story tonight.

I feel so silly story telling. Like I'm telling kids to pick a spot on the rug for story time- story telling. But, it’s more like grab a nice cold drink and guzzle it down on a hot summer evening kind of story.

That’s exactly what we were doing at the time that this whole back story for the day before yesterday’s ‘Woowhoo’ story.

So let me start by telling you what happened the day before yesterday.

My mom just finished telling me about her recent trip to Texas. She spent time with my oldest brother’s In laws who came for a visit from Belarus. (Our extended family is pretty International too!)  My mom also spent time with her sister. While she was there she reconnected with some of my aunts family members who we had hung out with last September. My mom told me how she made sure to connect with her friends on Facebook. She was so blessed when her friend was touched and encouraged by one of my Mom’s re-posts on Facebook that was a prayer for healing - healing in peoples’ body, mind, heart, or relationships. My mom was so excited that the little thing that she felt was important to do, was a big important thing because one person she know was blessed at just the right time.

That’s when mom told me that she and her friend and my aunt are still so excited that his knees are still healed since September!

So, I got really loud and yelled a bit. Because he is her husband. She is mom's friend in Texas. It’s kinda hard to follow. Sorry. The point is that by faith God healed a friend of ours, an extended family member. By faith, his knees are still better seven months later. It wasn’t some emotional high that caused a flood of endorphins to make him feel like there was less pain in his knees.

We were out on my Aunt and Uncle's front porch in a little town in Texas. We were getting together for a family reunion on my uncle’s side of the family. So his cousins were hanging out with him. My mom and Aunt had decided to go to bed, but I wasn’t tired yet. We were still chatting about life in Alaska, Texas, Colorado and Africa.

My Uncle’s cousin asked me what were some of my favorite experiences in Mozambique. He was keenly interested. He finished his drink and offered me another. He was thrilled that I didn’t mind chatting with the guys while they enjoyed a nice cold beer on a hot summer night. They were all happy when I tasted their homemade brew. Something about being a down to earth girl opened the door for our conversation to go from surface experiences to life changing stories of risk and faith for God. So I told him about one of my favorite healing stories. The three ladies who were supernaturally healed of irreversible health conditions. It was AMAZING to see the love of God open blind eyes, heal a cripple, and uncurl a paralyzed arm all in one afternoon in a little village in northern Mozambique.

At the end of the story my uncle’s cousin was wondering if that kind of thing could happen in Texas. So I said lets see. I can pray for your knees if you want me to. So I said a simple prayer like, “Jesus you love to heal your kiddos, we ask you to make his knees like new. You love to make all things new.”

That was it. A simple prayer, and he told me that they genuinely felt better. Everyday at the family reunion I would ask him, “How are your knees?” He would say, “Oh their fine.”

I had to ask his wife if she noticed her husband was in less pain. His wife told me that he was feeling so good, that she couldn’t get him to stop helping with all the hard work of setting up and tearing down camp. Those were some renewed knees.

Its so much fun for me to hear that those knees are still like new after so many months. Jesus is really into showing his power so that people can walk, set up camp, hang out with their family, and love more.

We never know exactly what God is going to do when we give him room to do what he wants. I could have prayed a big pretty prayer, but it was just natural to bring Jesus into our conversation and remind him that he is the best healer in the world – so we trust him to do what he loves to do!

Like my mom posted on Facebook, Jesus is ready to heal you. If you need healing in your heart, mind, body, spirit, or relationships, Jesus is happy to make old broken things like new. I pray that you are touched by God and experience a lasting exchange of old for renewed.

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia