Different in Mozambique

School Supply Shopping is Different in Mozambique.
There are other things to like school clothes shopping, and well....you'll see what I mean. It's different!

We finished school supply shopping for our boys on the weekend before their first day back to school. We had to get the final details, like a protractor and ruler, markers and more dry-erase markers for each of our three boys.

It’s so different shopping for three kids in Colorado, instead of shopping for notebooks and pens in bulk in Chimoio. In Chimoio, we know some of the shop owners where we frequently bought materials for the Iris Chimoio ROG children center, missionary house, and annual school materials. We spent time making sure that the notebooks would be enough for the children according to their grade. That seems similar to school supply shopping here. Then there were textbooks to buy, not for first through 6^th grade. But, we did have to purchase books for the kids who had passed primary school grades. That is very different from what I see here. The shopping process is very different too!

I remember walking down dusty roads looking at the books laid out on the sidewalk. Some of the vendors had a stand with books up off of the ground, others laid a tarp on the edge of the street to mark their ‘area’. We tried to get enough books for our kids to have one each if they went to school at different periods.

The public schools in Mozambique have early morning period, late morning period, and afternoon classes for minors. There is also an evening class offered at most schools for adult learners. We requested many times that our children have the same class periods, but sometimes that wasn’t available. Our kids who have morning classes would pass their textbooks over to the kids who have afternoon classes. They shared their textbooks to do homework. It wasn’t because we didn’t want to purchase more textbooks, there were lots of shortages in textbooks. The textbooks were also renewed pretty regularly, so older versions were no longer wanted in the classroom.

I just ordered my university textbook online, it will be shipped for free by the website to arrive on Saturday. There weren’t enough textbooks in my campus bookstore, so I bought it online. I don’t have to wait into the semester until a shipment of textbooks arrives in our city. Its so convenient.

I didn’t have to barter with a vendor, or find a student who took the class last semester to wrangle a deal with in order to secure a copy of the text. Its actually kinda refreshing. I miss the dust sometimes. I really miss the smells in the air, but only some of them.

I really miss the children. Their laughter and smiles as they opened up new backpacks filled with new notebooks, pens, protractors and colored pencils. It was always a highlight of our year gathering backpacks from the market.

We tried to find the least worn, newest looking second hand bags available. We wanted sturdy bags – hoping that some of them would last more than one school year. We would beat off the dust and make an offer to the seller. Some of them were students themselves, or the age of other students. They sold merchandise that comes in large bundles from shipping containers. We buy from them.

This year my hubby and I bought three brand new backpacks for our boys, from a store. We only bought three backpacks and school is just starting over here, while the school year is moving into a final trimester in Mozambique and soon enough exam season before summer (December) holidays.

It’s so different, yet so much the same. Summer break. Fall Start to new school year. Kids anxious to get back to their friends, some kids a little timid about making new friends. They’re happy to have a nice backpack with school materials inside. Their thrilled about new shoes for the new year. Our kids have a few new outfits to wear to school, but no uniform is required. We have to have our kids in Mozambique fitted for a new school uniform every year. If they change schools, we need to buy two new uniforms. The kids wash their shirts every afternoon since they are required to wear a button up shirt with the school emblem on it, a tie, a pair of long pants, or a skirt for the girls. Its routine to hand wash the shirts, and trade them out each day.

Our boys are really happy they don’t have to wear uniforms. And the other thing that is really different about the schools in Colorado and Chimoio is haircuts.

Our youngest son has a Mohawk/mullet. It’s not a problem. I remember getting notes from the schools in Mozambique about hair length. One of our Mozambican sons came home from school with a chunk of his hair cut out by the professor. They are only allowed to have short trimmed hair – no flat tops. His professor turned his flattop into a mess that required short hair all over – acceptable for the school he attended.

It’s different.

I like the liberties we have here with the school. The clothes, haircuts, and available textbooks are something to celebrate. They don’t replace the joy of bulk shopping, market strolling, dust battling, Matewe learning, and a successful barter, but they are worth celebrating. Of course I miss it, I will miss here when I'm gone...

Where ever you find yourself, there is something worth celebrating. It may be really different than somewhere you spent time before or not. Celebrating doesn’t require a list of comparisons and contrasts; but it does require stopping a few moments and recognizing the smooth things, the easy comforts, and the conveniences that give you more time to do the things you really love.

I really love our kiddos enjoying school. I really love our opportunity to gain a broader education in Colorado. I really love that our kiddos in Mozambique are enjoying their holiday as our kids holiday ended. I love that we get to chat with them on facebook, because the contrast of realities isn’t so distant. Our teenagers have cellphones with a facebook app installed on them. They ask us for help with their school work, their issues, or just say, “Hi, I love you.”

I really love that our kiddos are so well cared for, and so loved. I’m so thankful that there are hands to hold them when we are far away. I’m learning a lot more than just textbook material. I’m learning to celebrate the good things and get back to the essential things that I wanted to do in Mozambique, but just didn’t have this kind of internet connection…..I did what was essential there, now I want to write about it.

I’m posting a blog again, and it’s random. I’m just writing to celebrate, to remember, to evaluate, and to encourage. You are more blessed than you know.

Me too.

Lots of love and blessings,

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

Most romantic day (blurg)

Something about a wedding is so amazingly overflowing with romantic love that even the passionately-in-love couples are inspired to love more – more deeply and more fully. We remember the firsts. First time I laid eyes on you. First impression. First conversation. First touch. First embrace. First first first….

I have loved more deeply because one more time, I am reminded of a love story made in heaven (The most romantic story ever: Jesus and his Bride- US!) that is reflected in so many of our own love stories. Today's bride and groom have a love story that is unlike any other ever told. And, their wedding was spectacularly different than any wedding I’ve ever been to. It is an honor to celebrate their love and the first steps in their journey as a family.

Lots of lobe….it’s late. Lots of love and goofy JOY,

Missionary Momma Mia

Dinner with our friends

You might be thinking, "Where has she been?" Tonight my hubby and I had dinner at our friends' house.  I always love hanging out with our friends at their house. Home made food, coffee and fun conversation. It’s usually in Mozambique. This time it was in the states! So happy to see them being blessed with an amazing property and a house they are turning into a great home. Tonight was beautiful! I love to see how Papa God blesses the people that I love. It is nice when random people have great happy stories and powerful testimonies, and it is even better when people you love have great happy stories and powerful testimonies. My hubby and loved hearing their great story about how they were able to get their house. They just have incredible favor, and God is generous in blessing them!!!!

Why? I believe it is because our friends are truly generous, not because they invited us over for dinner, but because they give their lives away for the kingdom. What kingdom? Jesus’. I know you probably know that if you read my other blogs. But lots of people interested in kingdom business have other things in mind. Most people who are interested in building up a kingdom want power. Some of them want power to be able to have more stuff and money. Some people want power to become famous. Some people don’t want power because they know they have it. That’s the kind of people that we are lucky to get to hang out with.

So anyway, enjoy life, be inspired and ask cool people questions and really listen. You might gain a friend who is inspiring. We did. I mean, who serves Jesus, the poor and needy for practically their entire life without focusing on their own gain? Some of our friends do, and they inspire us to keep trusting God with the crazy stuff and the daily life stuff.

By the way, my hubby and I are on a mini vaca/road trip before heading to Mozambique. So I took a break from blogging to focus on having a super special time with my hubby. I love to love this guy!!! We are goofy together, and good for each other. I’m a very blessed wife and momma!!! But I am missing my kids. Had to look at pictures of their awesome faces….That’s what pictures are for, to remember the people you love and reconnect with those heart-melting emotions. I get all emotional thinking about my Jesus, my hubby, kids and friends. There must be a soft gooey heart on my insides….

Thank you!, to friends who are keeping up with my writing, and encouraging me to tell my story. I’m still getting into the groove of writing, and taking few days off gave me time to remember why I’m inspired to write about our international family. Remember when I started to write I made a plan to write six days a week, as long as I wasn't writing just to be writing for six days in a week. I want to write from my heart. It was a great disconnect from 'writing as a job' and reconnecting with my family and friends who inspire my writing. We are a pretty cool bunch of people!! You’re a part of it!

Now I’ve gotta put my hair in foam rollers for attending a sweet spiritual sista’s wedding tomorrow. I saw a vision of this a year ago, and here I am, with my husband, to witness the vision actually happening! It’s great to celebrate family and friends. It’s great how God loves to love us. He shows us things to give us hope. I had hope for this day many years ago when I met a beautiful single missionary in Mozambique. It's my JOY to witness things we have seen in the spirit and waited for happening at just the right time!

My hair is almost dry, I gotta get it in granny rollers. G’night!!!

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Celebrating our brain's quirks

‘Well this happened’ is a pretty common phrase, and it's ok to say.

We all learn how to edit out mistakes that our brain previously thought was okay as we gain more education and experience. Our societies have certain standards that help maintain order, such as language spelling and grammar rules. We learn to speak our national language according to the standards that will produce the greatest ease of communication. However, as children and babies, the majority of us were probably allowed to say words with ‘baby sounds’ or our own baby words for various things like bottle, mother, father, food or pets. Lots of parents help their children edit out baby words before heading to elementary school. We expand our vocabulary and understanding of grammar in order to be better more mature communicators. Our brain edits out the habit of saying, “me want numnums” to “May I please have a snack.” Why? I think it’s because after a certain age,  one form of communication produces the desired result much more rapidly. (I think its because of the use of the magic word).

Some of us would rather not have communication norms and spelling and grammar rules. But, it would be really hard to understand other people. So, what am I trying to say? Every once in a while an adult has published a post, article or blog with a few small grammatical mistakes, or even left out an entire thought that caused a book to be revised only a year later. This stuff happens. It could be because word did or didn’t automatically change something. I tend to think that it is our brain being quirky and reminding us that we were once children. The learning process was, and is amazing. At the same time, our brains might need to edit out more childish thinking.

I think of spoonerisms or accidental ‘tongue twisters’ more like a quirk, a twitch, or a need for editing. It’s probably not so far out there that a spoonerism would interrupt our lives and be a major concern. It could be weird if someone hears the speaker switch sounds for the first time and it is considered ‘no laughing matter.’ Someone might throw out that is a sign of impending doom. I think that you are not necessarily on your way to a nervous breakdown because you said “spork and foon”. If someone said that to me, then I would have to say, ‘So that happened.’ or  “I’m sorry that’s not what I intended to come out of my mouth.” I usually laugh or argue that is not what I wanted to say!….

If it happens to you, learn your stuff! Know your stuff! And also admit when you aren’t sure and need to learn more about your stuff. Do some research about your quirk. My dad told me that a college professor was famous for switching the starting sounds of words around in a phrase, so that little quirk was given his name. That brain quirk became a ‘spoonerism’. Talk about celebrating his brain quirk! This is like fifth hand information. I don’t remember if I properly researched it. I was around twelve or thirteen the first time I was emphatically explaining something and it poured over my teeth incorrectly. I argued that that is not what I said. Dad helped me through it. Was there a college professor named Spooner? I think so. I believed him, and it calmed me from thinking my quirk was singular and a sign of doom.  

I mean seriously, does your leg twitch? Your nose tickle, or your eye blink rapidly? There could be some much deeper explanations for these things. But, if it is not interfering with normal routine or your life in general, it is probably something to look into in your spare time for curiosity sake and to learn something new about yourself.

If a little quirk becomes intrusive in life then it is probably time to celebrate it enough to let your friends know: “Hey, sometimes I get super excited when I’m talking and this happens…..” When friends are aware of your little quirk it might become more clear if that is actually something that is intrusive, or was only a little bit embarrassing but not really a big deal. Celebrating a quirky brain, a little tick, or a bouncy knee might just ease the situation. It also give our friends and family permission to say something like, “I’ve never heard you stutter before, is that normal and I never noticed it?”

We might be able to identify real ‘red flags’ or warnings of too much mental stress, an oncoming migraine headache, or an indicator that our ‘mental wellbeing’ might be on the downslope.

I love to celebrate my little quirks called “spoonerisms”, but if I stutter I want to be told so I can figure out why I would do something I’ve never done before. A quirk could become a source of immeasurable concern if someone makes a big negative deal out of it. If we celebrate the way our brain works with it’s quirks and all, we might not be caught off guard by a little brain quirk mistaken for a red flag or vice versa. We could be spared from having an actual breakdown.

My point is, talk about how you understand what’s going on in your mind with friends and family. We all process things in an individual way, pretty similarly, but we have different foundations, languages, analogies, and belief systems. It is important to know and identify more about how we understand our own thought processes in order to weird, I mean weed out quirks and warnings or ‘red flags’.

I do believe it is better to be safe than sorry, so as a mommy, I would suggest celebrating and looking into your brain quirks and learning more about them. Don't be afraid of what you find. Take care of you, Love you!

That’s enough thinking for now. Well, its not a very missionary-ish blog. Its from my experience of missionary living though. Anyway, I’m not editing this again tonight….take my word for it. Missionaries need to research things like what culture shock and compassion fatigue does to thought processing and emotions.  We can get really quirky.....it's probably still ok for most of us....At least my friends and family can laugh with me. 

Here's to JOY and Lots of love!

Missionary Momma Mia

When darkness falls

There are leaders who stumble when darkness falls over their lives, and so many people talk about their 'abuse of authority'. We have probably all experienced some degree of injustice, unfairness, or even abuse from some figure of authority.

We cannot change the figure of authority, or their behavior. We can change our response to their behavior, and maybe just maybe we can influence them to change. When darkness falls, we fail to look with eyes of brilliance. When darkness falls, we fail to see where roadblocks lay in front of us. When darkness falls, we stumble in the shadow and hope we find our way back to the light.

I didn’t want to write much tonight. I was thinking about going to bed and writing tomorrow. I have honored my Sabbath rest plan by taking either Saturday evening or Sunday evening off from blogging, or even journaling. It has been a blessing for me to know that I’m not trying to produce something or force my own hand. I’m just going with the flow of the Holy Spirit, and writing about what comes to mind and what surfaces from my memory.

Tonight, I thought that if I did write, it would be about the majestic feeling of an American University Graduation Ceremony and my reflections on the many Bible School Graduation Ceremonies we attended or were a part of in Mozambique. I find myself more invested in the ‘whys’ behind the feelings of grandeur and awe, completion and unity, accomplishment and growth.

See, the 'why' in Mozambique is similar to here, but it looked different. We were so honored to be able to give each graduating Bible student a t-shirt and a certificate. We would celebrate with them in the presence of the Lord with prayer tunnels and big slobbery piles of graduates who were overcome by the weighty presence of God. They responded in tears and laughter falling on the floor or jumping for joy. They would crumple to the straw mats at the front of the traditionally constructed mud church. The floor was special. It had a layer of smooth cement, instead of pounded dirt. That made for a lot less dust when they congregation was dancing. The altar area was made softer for the knees and bodies of people who feel over under God’s presence and anointing with straw mats laid out as natural carpet. Sometimes there would be a huddle of people who feel in a bunch. Men on their faces had another man falling onto the floor so close to him that his head was on his brother’s back. They didn’t care. They didn’t wait for 'catchers' to allow them to fall in an orderly fashion on the floor of the church altar so they wouldn't touch their neighbor. They just receive everything that was available for them from God. They responded with open hearts and unrestricted behavior. They weren’t overly aware of what someone watching might be thinking or concerned if they landed on their classmate. They just wanted more of God. Their certificate wasn’t the objective! Their hearts full of God and his presence IS their objective! They wanted every last drop of anointing, impartation, and tangible LOVE that was thick in that big meeting room before they headed back home to their homes and their families after three months of intensive Bible training.

Their graduation ceremony was so intensely different from my brother’s University graduation ceremony today. Yet, I felt such an awe and majesty that left me thrilled for each and every graduate. I am seriously hopeful that each one of them left their ceremony with a wonderful feeling of accomplishment and self-worth, along with the education they were looking for. It was truly touching. It was altogether different from our ceremonies in Africa. The floor was cement though! And it happened in one BIG room. So very different though in almost every other aspect.

The lights and sound were so professional, the seating was sufficient for all the attendants, not waning electricity and standing room only. The stage was swanky, and they were all dressed in dignified robes. It was full of splendor and honor just like our ceremony in Africa, but it looked very different. We had dignified t-shirts and caps for our grads (baseball caps). We also had honor for our faculty, directors and our God. It looked very different at the end though. I’m sure that the graduating students celebrated their diplomas in a fashion fitting to their environment. 

So what is it that our environment is creating? What kind of atmosphere is our environment inviting? Are we people who have such a strong sense of authority that we command and affect our environment? Or are we affected by our environment? Sometimes a environment is to strong and its best we get out of there, but where we live, work and celebrate community and fellowship is our typical environment. Are we affecting our environment or being affected? or both?

If we are certain we are affecting our environment, how do we really know if our authority is internal coming from a source of unending power connected to our spirits, or an environmentally accepted and adorned position of power that invokes temporal authority? I think we dwell in the shadows until we command the light to increase. If we can go to a dark place and cause light to shine then we can know that we are affecting our environment. If we can stay under a shadow (only as long as Papa God is asking us too) and contend for light until it gets brighter, then we are affecting our environment.

When darkness falls we can run to the other side of the cave, cloud, or storm; or we can hover over a little chicks like a momma chicken who knows the storm will pass, the cloud won’t last, or our eyes will adjust to the dim light of the cave or our other senses will respond to the Holy Spirit as he guides us to safety.

For years I’ve wondered how leaders can forgive the gravest offenses. They give glory to God for what he has done in spite of stupid people doing stupid things! They don't focus on the offense, they give glory to God for his works through them. God is still God. 

Tonight as my husband and I talked for about an hour and half, we realized that if they couldn’t forgive those people turning their back on God they couldn’t forgive us for real or imagined offenses.

We’ve walked through darkness when there were real offenses committed against us, and we really offended other people. Those connections were shattered while we try to pick up the pieces of what was once a healthy life-giving relationship. We stood back and observed different people who offended or hurt us without trying to mend the connection until we were confident in Christ in us, that we weren’t going to mend something that was just going to be shattered again.  The old saying says: Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me. We waited on God to help us be truly humble, and really see Jesus on them and them. We forgave them. Forgiveness is constant though until the break is mended. But we watched and waited for enough information to go forward and see God heal a broken relationship. 

Let me tell you, there is no reason to try and mend something when the darkness is still hiding some of the broken pieces. When it’s time to rebuild a bridge or glue the shattered pottery, all the missing pieces will be in the light.

When darkness falls, its for a reason. Not so we can point fingers and blame another leader for ‘falling into sin’ or ‘abusing authority’. I believe it helps us to wait, to go lower and deeper into the dark well. To get closer and closer to the red hot embers. It helps us to become the flame that burns up the darkness. It causes us to change.

If someone really does have a tendency to abuse their power, they need to be told how the victim has overcome what they did and are believing God for divine justice on both sides of glory. If someone really has fallen into sin, they need to be loved to repentance. It’s kindness that says, “Oh, you are wearing skin just like me. You need to feel forgiveness that unlocks you from guilt and convicts you to change!” “Oh, you need to be honored as a sister or brother in Christ even if I can’t respect your temporal position of power.”

When darkness falls we can choose to be the light.

From one momma to somebodies child, please don’t try to mend a relationship that isn’t ready to be mended. Burn with love for the person who offended you. How do you do that? Ask God how he sees them, and why are they in your life. Wait until you are ready, but follow Holy Spirit's prompting even if you feel timid inside yourself. Be confident in who you are in Christ, and their response is first of all, between them and Jesus.

My husband and I asked God why someone is still in our lives tonight, and we were pretty overwhelmed with the revelation that came out of our soul searching. (We know that people are going to be with us for eternity, so its good to bring kingdom thinking into our connections with people now. That doesn't mean there aren't people who cause us to lift our eyebrows at God) It’s been years of asking God to help us love some person more, and what is another detail about that person that is important and life giving for our spirits? We realized that someone that we really do love, even though we’ve been hurt by some of their decisions, has some understanding and depth of forgiveness that we can still learn from. If they didn't forgive those terrible things, how could they forgive us? Yep folks, ever once in a blue moon, I might make a mistake, hurt someone, or sin....I need to be forgiven.

Trying to forgive someone is a step closer to forgiveness, and a step farther away from bitterness.

I pray that you can graduate from a grudge and love someone special again.

Lots of love,

Jennifer

Missionary Momma Mia 

Where indifference is a blessing, caring is a curse

I  tried to post last night around 1:30. The website was down. For a brief moment after I edited and re-finished the post for lastnight, the website page came up, but it did not work long enough to post this. I hope that anyone who feels badgered from an account of strong emotions and deeply sorrowful events will feel free to read something else. It's not my intention to break your heart. I'm trying to unburry the broken pieces of my heart and see if they can be pieced back together again...

Were indifference is a blessing, caring is a curse

I am thinking about my first weeks in central Mozambique.

As I wrote early Sunday morning, I was remembering the emotions and the frustration of having lost a neighborhood child that I had visited with another missionary in the earliest weeks of arriving in central Mozambique. We had helped his blind grandmother treat her four year old and six year old grandsons for scabies and other parasites just a few weeks before the littler one died of malaria. It was a devastating blow. We had bathed him, brought food, and treated his soars.

I remember the first time we saw him. He looked like a toddler, not a small child of four years. Mama C and I had walked through the village lanes near our community home. She had arrived to central Mozambique before my husband and I did. Mama C had learned how to treat scabies, foot worms called ‘mataquina’ , intestinal parasites and other easily treatable problems that poverty stricken families often faced.

The local hospital was a near enough to treat the illnesses of the children and families living nearby, but they charged the smallest amount of money for the hospital visit, and the medicine. These widows and aged grandmothers didn’t have coins to pay for medicine, or food. They ate food from their fields and sometimes their animals – if they had any. They came to care for their grandchildren for different reasons. Some of their grandchildren had a mother who couldn’t or wouldn’t care for them. Some of them had lost both their parents. The mission base was just starting over again. There were 13 boys living in a reed room on base. We were thrilled to take care of them, and other children near by. It was our desire to help families stay together, even if the circumstances were dire, we needed to assist in whatever way we could without separating the vulnerable children from their relatives.

The mission was supposed to comfort me. It didnt. I don’t actually know if I have forgiven myself for that little one dying so young. We honored the grandmother’s wishes and helped her care for the children in her one room mud hut. We visited two and three times each week for a while until their swollen bellies had shrunk to a healthy normal size. Both of the brothers were so cute. They helped their grandmother beg in the nearby market. It was grandmother’s only form of survival after having gone almost totally blind. She would receive a little maize flour or rice and green leafs or beans to make for one meal for the three of them. We brought some food and medical supplies on our visits. Then one weekend we found the two boys suffering with high fever. They had been bit by mosquitoes carrying malaria. A nurse visited them with us and explained how often they had to take the malaria tablets. I never thought that we should go check on the children each time they needed to take their malaria tablets. The little one might not have taken his medicine properly, I had no way of knowing if he did take the medicine with the food and juice that we left for him or not. I imagined myself to blame that the little one died of fever from the malaria.

It broke my heart to hold his big brother and comfort him and his grandmother. The nurse told us that the little one’s malaria had become cerebral even though he was taking the malaria tablets because his malaria was a far more complicated case than his older brother’s. The world became an entirely different place after I heard the news of the little boys passing.

There was little solace for me. I imagined him missing medicine or vomiting up treatment because his fever was to high causing dehydration and upset stomach. Before that, I had thought that malaria was something that could be conquered in every case. The reality of my situation hit me as an expectant mother, a wife, and a missionary with children and employees that I felt almost entirely responsible for their wellbeing. My husband and I along with a hand full of other missionaries were full of vision for the village we lived in, we had a vision for the mission base and the surrounding churches. We felt God's presence there and he gave us dreams. In spite of the paon, we went forward. We did have victories. We built a nice house for the children. But I never forget the first child I lost. My heart stays broken for his little life expiring so early, I only shared this pain with a select few. It didn't heal all the way. I wanted to understand how the villagers around me could stop grieving after 7 days. I wanted to pretend like the happy stories consumed me, like the boys first ever trip to the beach was more present in my thoughts than how many coffins we bought during my first month of living in Africa. Talk about culture shock!

But Jesus knew how much I longed to feel less. 

Indifference would seem like a blessing in a place where innocent children die of treatable diseases. In the weeks that followed my heart broke into a million pieces, the care and concern I felt for the people around me felt like a terrible curse.

Witnessing firsthand the injustice of suffering children and elderly widows ignited a fire of fury to keep going forward with the food distribution programs for orphans, vulnerable children and widows. But that fire did inevitably burn up. Fury and anger are not endless. There is only one fire that is endless. Love.

Remember to love. Remember to let Jesus love you. I had to learn how to say “no” to some requests for more food, or help. I had to learn to shut myself away with Papa God and let him love me.

There were so many times when I had nothing to give, if I didn’t press into Papa God’s heart and love him for his faithfulness I wouldn’t have even had a prayer to offer to the mother or child who asked for something from me. There were so many times that I wrestled with God for my sanity, for my family, for our children and staff. We pressed into God to tell him our thoughts, concerns and desires. We waited for him to show us his plan. Holy Spirit reminded us of his promises for that mission base, and even for that village. Papa God showed us his faithfulness by meeting our needs, and the needs of those around us. He also showed us that his success wasn’t dependent on our abilities and asked us to give everything that we were holding onto back to him.

It was one of the hardest things to do, because we cared so deeply. We wish we could have felt indifferently towards the village, the churches and children because saying goodbye was even harder than comforting friends after the loss of a family member.

We wanted our hearts to grow numb, and our emotions to be like stone. God showed us over and over again that no matter what we tried to do, we couldn’t stop loving them. We had to learn to feel deeply and say goodbye. We had to remember to love when it felt like such a heavy burden. It wasn’t about an emotion of passion or desire. Remembering to love was about a commitment to care, and to challenge the cultural norm of indifference.  

Remember to Love. Give lots of love, especially to those who don’t or can’t love you back. Then you will give all of yourself, and either give up, or go back to the source of all Love to feel his heart beating inside you and be filled up with his heart of love.

It’s ok to want to give up, it’s ok to feel intensely. Even Jesus asked his Dad if there was another way. He drank a cup of suffering for the Joy set before him. Sometimes are full of more suffering than others. We can remember to love. Remember we are his Joy, and he is ours.

I really am writing to you with lots of love,  

Missionary Momma Mia   

P.S. I have to say that blogger wasn’t working for me to post a few minutes ago. I just wanted to finish quickly because sometimes my heart breaks to remember the pain. I also don’t want to cause any one to suffer needlessly. I hope that if you are choosing to read my blogs, you know enough to love yourself and close it if it is too much.

Anyway, I prayed about my blog, and decided to finish it properly and then when I finished writing the second time, blogger website was working again for a few moments. Maybe it’s an interesting coincidence. Maybe I should pay more attention to details. I had more time to perfect and conclude tonight’s ramblings because the server was down. It was more important for me to fully write about what was stirring my heart, than to try to get a blog in before the day was over. So I digress….I had asked Jesus a simple question,  "If I really should post this journal entry as a blog, a nice confirmation that it's your idea would be a working website. "

It worked for a moment. Its not working now, and I should sleep. I’ve faced all kinds of computer and internet problems before. So, Jesus  I trust you, and bless the website to work when you want it to, so I can post this when you know it is best.

I love you. And I trust you with my heart, and my scribbles. If you want other people to be able to see what I’m thinking about I will share it , and it’s up to you to help the web savvy people to fix their web site.

 I love you! Goodnight.

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 

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

Restore unto me

Today when I realized that there was something being ‘restored’ to me, I was initially reluctant. I had been happy with my negative association to something. Well, not happy but pretty comfortable. I hadn’t even realized that there was some lingering angst towards someone whom I had worked hard to reconcile with, and had definitely forgiven.

But, when I heard the words of a song, I didn’t get absorbed in the message. I immediately went back to the day someone gave me a CD and I just kinda sighed. I remembered how I felt when they had given me the gift, ok. A little bit thankful, and a little bit disappointed. The gift came with some interesting explanations. I was internally raising my eyebrow. (Yes, I raise one eyebrow when I am a lil skeptical of something) I hope it didn’t show on my face. I really hope that I didn’t flare my nostrils when the explanation continued, and was notably weird. It was a, “I don’t know why….kinda explanation." But it just seems weird to be the recipient of a reluctant gift, or the gift giver giving what they believe is an unwanted present.

The gift was actually really cool! I was really happy to that that cd - later after I listened to it, and dismissed the explanation as ‘whatever’. Clearly, I was missing the gift giver’s communication objective. We crossed communication so many times my eyes started crossing when the gift giver started breathing towards me. I could feel the defense forming in my mind as I anticipated their next remark. It was definitely a deep sigh of relief when our communication decreased based on a change of circumstances.  

Change of circumstances doesn’t mean that all the miscommunication or hurt feelings from miscommunication had been properly addressed. I mean that was obviously one of the problems. It was hard to address lots of things, especially whatever caused hurt feelings in the first place. It took some time, but we actually addressed the most obvious matters, forgave and reconciled. Some things, uncovered today, are still left to be restored. It can be hard to recognize that something was damaged, especially if the damage was just a tiny crack, or chip in a hidden spot. Then we are actually lucky or blessed when we discover that something was damaged. That means we can uproot any tiny hair thin root of bitterness that was growing ever deeper, and would continue growing somewhat unnoticed until it caused notable damage. 

But why am I bitter? I forgave the gift giver. Why the negative association? Did I forgive myself for failing that relationship? Probably not, and I really haven’t let go of all the little hurt feelings. There was so much potential. I lost something, but today I’ve regained something else.  

With the words of a song shedding light on my negative association, I had to choose to between holding onto negative association or rediscovering the heart of the song’s message. It’s time to let go of girlish thinking that I can be everyone’s best friend. I’m not going to click with everyone. It’s ok. Their thoughts about me or perspective of me, don’t define me. It’s ok, they can think those thoughts. My thoughts about me are sometimes a little bit off too. Its perspective. Somebody has a perfect perspective. Perfect thoughts.

I that know someone who has perfect thoughts about me. Papa God’s thoughts about me created me. His thoughts about me define me. That’s life giving! Transforming cracks into artwork. So I can let go of the negative ‘side notes’ to the song and listen to the message.

It’s actually overwhelmingly powerful. I can’t believe I let that song be lost to me before today….something beautiful was restored to me today. I'm incredibly blessed, and I really haven't earned his smile, or even deserve it in my opinion. But he sees me through his son's eyes. Jesus is the perfect gift giver. His explanation of his gift is sometimes dumbfounding. I'm in awe that he receives me with open arms and carries me to Papa God's lap so that I can have whatever time I need to recognize his perfect love that wipes out every fear of someone not approving of me, or of me not approving of me. How can God love me so much? 

I'm overwhelmed with gratitude, and brimming over with Joy. These tears are not sorrow, but Joy!

Lots more love and Joy to you, (and a bit less bitterness to seep out of me)

Missionary Momma Mia 

Let the sun shine through friends and family

I love knowing my children are building fun and happy memories.  It is a lot of work to host a child's birthday party. It's all worth it when they can't remember a better day because it was spent having fun with their dearest friends.

My thoughts are so full that writing doesn’t seem like it will be cathartic for me. This has been a blessed weekend, but my Sabbath was much more intense than a typical Sabbath. I think that taking this evening to rest will be better therapy than attempting to write a creative blog.

Because…

This party took days of planning, logistics, and food preparation. Thankfully, so many friends and family did whatever was needed to help me and my hubby give our boys happy memories. We didn’t --and couldn’t have pulled off such a fun filled afternoon without a troop of parents sticking around to help with kids’ activities, and friends and family helping with set up and tear down of decorations.

We are thrilled that each of our boys had at least one friend from their class come over.  Our oldest son told his aunty that this was the most perfect party ever! And -  We know that it went nothing like we had planned! 

Surprisingly, the weather is not dependent on mine and my husband's party planning.  I can however, write ‘when it rains it pours’ with a depth of sincerity that I may not have felt before this weekend. 

Our lives have been blessed with rain and sunshine! It didn’t even rain or snow during the boys’ birthday party! We actually had lovely weather. We did move the party indoors because the ground was still soggy from a winter storm this Friday and Saturday. It was nearly a blizzard down south, but in northern Colorado the rain barely froze or stuck to the ground.  It did continue to rain up until a half hour or so before the party started. Then the sun came out!

It was a lot of fun and the kids were delighted! I’m a bit overstimulated from the energy that a group of 10 or 11 boys can throw into the atmosphere. They were AMAZING! All such good friends and so well behaved! However, I have no idea how teachers do it!!! I’m thrilled that there are education professionals who invest their lives in the instruction and care of young students. 

Thank God that everyone has different skill sets and abilities! My skill set doesn’t actually involve spending multiple hours entertaining and feeding a large group of boys under the age of eleven on a regular basis. I’m a bit more chill with one-on-one, or teenagers. 

God knows what I can handle though. I’m very happy to have a day off class tomorrow. It will give me time to re-group. Since today was full – tomorrow will be more of a down day with Jesus and Hubby. Typically if our Sunday is busy or we are doing ministry, then we often take Monday as our Sabbath. Today was very busy though because we headed to the Department of Motor Vehicles to take care of Driver’s License stuff. Whooeeeeph – that’s my spelling for a deep sigh of relief.

Wow, I did end up writing a lot more than I thought I would. It just really settles me to think things through via my fingertips. It’s quite relaxing once I realize that I can take a breath and celebrate a huge accomplishment. I couldn’t have done it alone. This weekend rained down help and so much love from family. I’m so full of gratitude for my friends and family who made sacrifices to love on our three boys.

It is the greatest gift when a child knows they are secure in their families’ love. They are unafraid of grandparents, aunties, uncles, and Dad and mom. Thank you to my friends and family who really did bring 'sunshine' to our weekend. You know who you are. We love you!!!!

I’m full of deep gratitude to Jesus for such a lovely weekend, and so secure in Papa God’s love for me! Praying you can feel that big big bear hug as you sit in Papa's lap and tell him all about your weekend adventures!

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

Joy of Repentance

I know, you probably think I’m joking. Right?

How can there be any joy in repentance?

Let me tell you what I’m thinking and you can decide if you agree or not. You might actually go with me on this one, or even have an ‘ah hah’ moment. It’s possible because this is not as crazy as it sounds the first time you hear/read it. I have said this outload to people before. I usually get the squinty eyes and tilted head to one side, sometimes even a silent mouthed “whaaaat?” But it isn’t that ridiculous really, and it isn’t that difficult when you think about the similarities of crying and laughter. Crying is basically the same as laughter.

I’m not a scientist or doctor, but there are lots of different articles that people can look up about these things. This is not some professionally crafted article, so I’m not going to look up loads of articles and quote them. I don’t even know how to do the proper references in a blog. I’ll figure it out in the future when I need to quote someone more precisely. At this point I would rather indicate that there are people who study these things and write about it. I just remember enough from what those smart people said to look at my kids and say, “Are those happy tears or sad tears? Is that a happy laugh or a nervous laugh, love?”

Ok, so now you might be following me. A laugh doesn’t equal JOY, and a tear doesn’t equal Sorrow. Can be both and a lot more.

What other people may think of as ‘only true’ if it is contrite, I think of as an opportunity for complete transformation! It hit me one day when someone corrected me. She can do that. In fact I pay her to, she is a University professor. I was thrilled and overjoyed to be corrected. I had literally NO idea of my previous mistake- I knew I was making some mistakes, some colossal failures, but no idea why. Her experience and authority in the subject gave her much better discernment than me, and she was able to point out some of my problem areas and definite areas of weakness.

The spirit of truth came in such gentleness and clarity that I was literally OVERJOYED! How could I not be? The thing that had evaded me for YEARS was finally exposed. It was my own doing. My failure was pretty consistent because I had a blind spot. What a thrill to learn! What a thrill to be corrected and to see immediate results! That was a great time of repentance for me. I took the lesson and applied it to my life, my family, and my ministry. Relationships were mended, and I got to see something dead be totally renewed!

I laughed and I cried as one person let me open my heart to them. I never imagined that they cared. I was wrong. I had preconceived ideas about some people in my life that were my jilted perspective.

What happens when we lay down our pain, trust in Jesus ability to perfect us, and love people that he’s brought into our lives?

Our world changes.

Maybe only one person at a time—so! That’s one whole entire person! One person at a time, is actually the gist of the Iris Global motto: ‘Stop for the One’ It might not seem like a revival to someone interested in numbers, but it will be a revival in that one person’s spirit. Love someone you have judged. Forgive someone you have held accountable for their offense, and embrace someone you couldn’t see before you repented. Your life will change. Well that was a lot of advice. You can throw it out if you want. I’m also writing this for me. So I won’t mind one bit what you do with my words. I’m not going to forget. I’m not going to go back to hours of crying for God to show me what is wrong in my heart, I’m going to trust him to show me in the most loving way possible that will change me forever. I might be contrite, but when I truly get the point. I’m gonna celebrate!

I’ve heard people say, many times, that repentance is only heartfelt when there are tears. As a parent we do often see that our tender-hearted children do cry when they are corrected, and when they realize that their actions of violence, outbursts of hatred, or unfettered selfishness doesn’t only hurt the person who was on the receiving end of their tantrums, but that any time we hurt another person, we also hurt ourselves….It’s funny though how my boys look at their brother, friend or cousin and say ‘sorry’ then smile and give each other a big bear hug. Can you imagine doing that as an adult?

I can.  I did, and I started laughing just like my little boys. I can love better, more deeply and more freely knowing that if I need to repent it isn’t a terrible thing, but an amazing opportunity. I can see something I’ve never seen before. Can you imagine what we are missing by being stubborn?

I pray that I’m not missing the important things. I pray that you get to see something new after you read this. That is the beginning of change. And Repentance is a total transformation life change.

Lots of love to my friends who take the time to read these silly ramblings, I'm sorry to those annoyed. It's just kinda journaling too. Not flawless. I know, and well..rambling

love,

Missionary Momma Mia

PS. I want to put a plug for Azusa Now. I’m wondering why my schedule couldn’t be arranged in anyway for me to attend, but I’m not too to sad. Some of my greatest friends will be there, and I know they are going to share amazing testimonies!

I comfort myself with the fact that Azusa now will be live streaming on-line at http://www.thecall.com/azusa?mc_cid=750b1e74c8&mc_eid=43305fa082 and on God-tv.

Not only will the even be in a packed arena, it will be in a packed outdoor arena. I pray for a gentle breeze and soft scattered cloud coverage. For those of you who haven’t heard, this is going to be a blessed event.

I heard of a lady named Maria Woodworth-Etter when I was 15 years old. I listened to my mom read her book of testimonies aloud. It is full of firsthand accounts of healings and revival that swept our country at the turn of the 20^th century. ‘A Diary of Signs and Wonders’ was published in 1916. One hundred years later there is a massive event happening in Los Angeles, California – Azusa Now starts tomorrow morning at 7 in the Los Angeles Coliseum. For anyone in the LA area, this will be a great gathering of many love-minded followers of Jesus Christ. This is the perfect day to put down denominational, theological, and apologetics arguments and gather together for the sake of harmoniously expanding God’s kingdom hear on earth. It’s a perfect time to bubble up with JOY in God’s Holy Spirit and let God pour out his heart in and through his church – Jesus Bride. Let the walls fall down, let people humbly and joyfully look to heaven with repentant hearts. It’s time to fix our eyes on Jesus and love our neighbor.

Azusa Now is an event inspired not only by the historic significance of a revival that began in 1906, but also recognizing proclamations that were spoken by Maria Woodworth-Etter in  1913. She prophesied that there would be another great outpouring of the Holy Spirit in one hundred years.  I’m incredibly interested in being exactly where God wants me to be to see the outpouring of Holy Spirit simultaneously happening around the globe tomorrow and the days that follow. I do not believe that the movement of God’s Holy Sprit being poured out will be an isolated event in one location. I believe that an incredible moment is happening in the history of the church, and we get to be a part of it.

Azusa Now is already happening. Sign up, tune in, and Pray. (sorry I'm bossy. I have three small boys, have helped raise over 33 of our Mozambican children, and I'm an older sister) but it is a good idea to do these things....

A couple of good bits From the Azusa Now web site:

AZUSA THEN

What made the 1906 Azusa Street Revival so special? Three key factors at Azusa mirrored the reality of the formation of the church in Acts 2. Firstly, there was a multi-ethnic gathering of unity in Christ (Acts 2:1-11). Secondly, the miraculous, attesting ministry of the Holy Spirit was enjoyed in a unique way (Acts 2:2-4).  Finally, there was a clear presentation of the Gospel leading many to salvation (Acts 2:37-41).

AZUSA NOW

“We need a true jubilee of love and mercy to sweep our land. A dark question looms over our children's future: riots or revival? The only answer is to be found in Christ. Prayer, love and unity remain the Acts 2 template for breakthrough. On April 9, 2016, join a great multi-ethnic, multi-denominational, multi-generational assembly as we strike a match for awakening in our day. It's not just Azusa then. It's Azusa Now.”