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 

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

Happy Birthday Benaiah

Benaiah

The Lord has built. Someone came to me with a word for the baby that was in my belly, and even though the name they heard wasn’t my baby’s name, it was a prophetic word for me and the baby.

I had struggled with giving my baby a name to honor the ones who had been less obviously loved by me before that year. I had ‘favorites’, even though I tenderly loved other brother’s, cousins, parent figures, and in-laws – it was hard for me to demonstrate that love in the shadow of my very vibrant connection with my ‘favorites’.

Someone told me they felt like God spoke to them about the baby’s name, and they asked if we had already chosen a name for our newest addition to the family. I smiled and tilted my head to one side as I shook my head no. We had a name in mind that was not exactly what we were looking for, but our hearts were still searching for the perfect name.

The name from her was a message for me and the baby, not a name for the baby. She said a name kept popping in her head when she thought of me in prayer. It was my birth father’s name, she had no idea. She excitedly asked if I thought that God was showing her our baby’s name. I delicately let her know that it wasn’t our baby’s name, but a confirmation in the direction we were going with our baby name search. It confirmed our command to honor those we had ‘overlooked’. We were so humbled. In 2009 and 2010 we were on the path to truly deepen humility and to go lower still. We learned that it was impossible for us to continue in ministry without learning the lesson of honor. We saw a scripture verse that jumped out at us as we read the Bible. Then the same verse was a key scripture in the next message we listened to over the internet from Bethel church in Redding California. We listened to Bill Johnson preach about honor. It was crazy how the verse was exactly what God had plastered on the wall of our hearts that very week. (Matthew 10:41 – it rocked our world)

My hubby and I had a direct word from God to honor my birth father as we named our 3^rd son. It was confirmed as she whispered his name in my ear. He is a man that I have compassion for, and I am grateful for his role in my life. I have become a more compassionate person because of my relationship with him. His name was a reminder that we were on the right path to love the least of these. We have a command to love people for who they are in Christ, for the destiny that God has spoken over them and built inside them, not to see their behavior and temporary shell as their merit for blessing and honor. Wow, I could love him for his destiny, not only be compassionate for his need. This was another truth that began to apply to almost every aspect of my life in that season.

Look for what God has done, for the calling God has placed on people’s lives, and for the blessing that He is giving through them, and it is easy and light to bless the least ‘worthy’ person according to our immature standards.  Ok, the blessing in our son’s name isn’t to pass on a family legacy or to name him after my birth father, but to learn the message of his name. What was the message? We were still waiting. We knew it was about honor, strength, and destiny…..

Soon after that evening, something randomly pointed out a name in a scripture verse (yes, we are those people with kids who have Bible names- we’re missionaries, Christians and church goers. It was bound to happen) There is was a warrior, a strong man. One of the strongest, whose name was given the honor of not only being recorded as a might man, but actually the great feats of strength and victory that his valor deserved. Wow! A man of honor and strength. We felt a tug at our hearts. We wanted to call our lil pumpkin Benaiah. We asked a friend of ours to confirm the significance and root meaning of the name.

“The Lord has built” That shook us up, from our head to our toes! That was the summary of everything that God was pouring into our hearts and over our thoughts.

We had cried over the challenges of starting a ministry base from scratch with next to nothing – our faith was that small. We felt like it was almost nothing, only enough to help us survive in our poor decision to go back to the mission field and finish what we started.  We didn’t have funding for building projects, administrative loopholes, or any other high cost of starting a new ministry in a new place, but we had a word from God and a go ahead from our spiritual parents and pastors.

We had been in Chimoio for a long time, we prayed for more funding and buildings to house our beautiful Mozambican children, and our missionary family.  A dear friend of ours stayed in our house during our furlough in Colorado in 2010 while our family spent precious time in the states, and prepared for the birth of our third son. He has stayed connected to us ever since. He loves our family! Wow! He prays with us, encourages us and gives to our ministry.

We didn’t plan that. We didn’t ask him to give a donation to keep the ministry going, or to develop the center. He just gave sacrificially because of his love for this big International family! We had seen little progress in development and construction. We had requested electricity year before it was installed, we had a tiny source of water from a hand dug well. Everything was so slow going. We desperately wanted to build and develop.

We left Chimoio for our 5 month furlough that year wondering why we kept at it as missionaries. We knew it was the children and not the busy work of administration or the hope of building, but we still needed more buildings, more funding, more hep. As we just waited before the Lord in worship and prayer, he spoke to us about a spiritual foundation. He was building Iris Chimoio in a totally new way. It was different from our previous years as missionaries, and we suffered under challenging circumstances.  Yet, we had strong relationships with the tiny growing team. It was more like a family. We kept talking about family. In 2010 we knew it was a family that was growing steadily. God told us that ‘He has built’ Iris Chimoio. It’s a children’s center, a soccer pitch and a church. We didn’t have much of a children’s center. River of God was a boys house and a girl’s house that was unfinished, but livable. The kitchen was an outside kitchen that social welfare didn’t approve of, as well as the bathrooms. The soccer pitch was tiny. It was a tough time for our little International family and our bigger International family to grow. It felt more like stretching than growing, it was probably both.

When God spoke to us in the past tense, that he has built it, in reference to everything we dreamt of for our family and ministry in Chimoio, we started to see things through his lens. He has done it, it is finished. Time is not the issue, God is working on our hearts. He is building a kingdom building in our hearts. He lives in us. Everything else is a bonus….all the blessings here tell of His goodness, not of our splendid prayers or ability to organize, work and lead.

It was a shift in our thinking. Our baby’s name was and is a strong reminder that we are not building the buildings at the center, we are not building the team or growing the family – God is and he loves doing it with us. We are a part of this, but it is not about what we can do. It is about knowing what God has done in the spirit, being at peace on the path he set under our feet, and going through the door that he has opened in front of us.

Its all about him. He has built. Not only is it all about him, God challenged us to not only let go of our thinking and planning about physical building and team building, but to trust him, that he will send provision and people to build, he will send people to the team, and he will grow this family.

Since that day that we got our son’s name, we have seen many miracles of grown, building, and provision that we did nothing to attain. Literally nothing. We just love our children, and he keeps doing things for them to remind us that we love them because he loved them first. He provide, he loves and he is faithful.

God has built.

Today my husband is in Africa working on many administrative tasks, and closing out a rental house because God said it’s time. Our things are going in many different directions. Some friends and pastors have new to them furniture or housewares, while somethings that can handle storage in a shipping container are being neatly packed into the container at the center. They will be used in the missionary housing God is telling us about. Something we have seen, but never known the time to start, or who would do it. It seems that what God is doing is so unimaginable even to ministry people that we don’t know how to explain it. People are coming, helping, serving, loving us, and building without any burden on us. Its like a dream. There are building materials being brought to the center! There are workers that we are not paying to build, someone else is. Who does that?

Jesus! He loves to lavishly love us. Seriously, what person can love us that well. It was six years ago when God not only said that he has built the center up, and that he (my husband) is not going to have to build the buildings. When God told us that he has built – there was a tag line, “so you don’t have too.” I felt like he was showing me people coming and building. Ok for some of you who have staff and workers, we couldn’t afford to hire a team of builders, and we were literally out of fire to manage big building projects again.

As I prayed more about the buildings that God has built at Iris Chimoio he spoke into my heart and spirit, saying that we didn’t have to do it. The fire didn’t run out because we spent it, but because we don’t need to do it this time. I heard him say, “I’ve set these projects in other people’s hearts to come and build your dreams.” Who does that? Who comes to serve God and bless us? We’ve seen people who wanted to come and build something else, but that wasn’t the promise. We just had to wait, and right now the team is steadily building at the children’s center. They are doing it. Coordinating with our vision, and doing all the work. Who does that?

God has sent the builders. I didn’t know what that would look like. Its Amazing! Its not in my University non-profit Administration books. Its fresh and new to me. I’ve never heard of this before. I’m sure there are other testimonies like this, and MORE to come!! As people give wholeheartedly and step out in loving service to the body of Christ.

I’m thrilled to thank the people who are coming to River of God Children’s Center and pouring out love in practical and lavish ways!!!!

In Papa God’s perfect time, we are seeing this happen.

We have a beautiful family, and so many blessings. We can’t describe them all, but we can glorify a loving God who delights in giving his children good gifts.

Dream with God, follow him, and obey. He is doing a good work. Its not about what other people can measure, it is about how intimately close we are to our loving savior, and how deeply our hearts beat to the rhythm of his.

It’s good to be loved, it’s great to love others. Something about that tells the story better than anything we could ever try to say. We couldn’t plan this, we can’t make any of this happen.

We can let it unfold as we say yes to Jesus…Its our joy to be loved by him.

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Suitcases are finally Unpacked

Well it’s personal news, and it’s not riveting. It is a small victory for me. I finished unpacking two suitcases. I put the clean clothes on hangers or in drawers. Then I put the small suitcase inside the medium suitcase, zipped them shut, and put them in the bottom of the linen closet.

My room is a lot closer to organized, and I’m a happy camper. I don't always have suitcases on the floor of my bedroom.

The boys room is nice and clean. It was a productive mommy day. I didn’t get all the ministry work done that I had on my list, but I did get lots of ministry work closer to done along side mommy work. Then there are meals that we all need to prepare and eat. So, in between cleaning bedrooms and a little bathroom scrubbing, we ate yumminess that gramma baked, and yumminess that the boys and I made all together for lunch and dinner.

It’s a pretty good day. Productive in the house keeping way. Not my favorite department in life, but I am very satisfied with neat organized bedrooms, and very proud of our kiddos. We are proud of our kids at the center when their rooms are clean and neat. Lots of people think that they have to clean up for their children. Not us. With soooo many kiddos (3+ all our Iris Chimoio kiddos) we understand we can’t clean up for them, but we do clean up with them. The kids at the center, along with my awesome hubby and staff had the center spick and span for an inspection from the social services. It was wonderful! The inspection team was so proud of our kids and staff that they took pictures! They loved it! That was my hubby's best day in Mozambique without me so far.

It’s funny that I said this house keeping isn’t my favorite life department, but it is actually one of the things I really enjoy, just not my favorite. I love the mommy stuff, the cleaning is a HUGE part of that. I like to pretend that it doesn’t take as much housework so I can feel more like a career woman, but I am a missionary momma. That’s basically what my job is. I run a household budget and a bigger household budget. My hubby organizes logistics and inventory for our family and for our much bigger Mozambican family. Its more than number crunching, shopping, praying, crying , making sure kids are healthy and in school. We love bragging on our children, we do our share of worrying and handing our worries over to Papa God. We do our share of praying over them, teaching, playing, and correcting. We also get lots of giggles, hugs, yummy meals together, dances, achievements, and victories. Sometimes I need to celebrate small victories.

Today my small victory is unpacking suitcases. The other stuff was normal daily life for a missionary momma, and although a few people have asked me if I was a professional traveler, I don't consider myself a pro.  Unpacking is not a part of my normal daily, weekly or monthly routine. For some missionaries it is, I’m more of the home body than the adventurer.  There is an adventurer in here too, and an artist (I even played the keyboard tonight while worshiping with Mom and Dad), but I’m first a wife and mommy. Maybe there will be more time for adventure and music in this season of our lives, but it will look like climbing a mountain with my kids and getting them more exposure to music. Whatever gives me those precious moments in classical music, or the exhilaration of being a mountain hiker (probably not climbing anytime soon) that is the Joy of parenthood – sharing the things that are important to me with  the beautiful kiddos that Papa God has put in our care. 

Jesus knows just how to love us, and we get to love them! It’s wild to think about it sometimes, but having kids and caring for kids is the greatest adventure in my life. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

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 

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 

Technology Rules! Part II

We usually have a little routine with the boys doing some homework on the computer every weekday evening after dinner. One of our little guys lucked out of doing homework because the H key on our laptop keyboard pooped out on him.

The H key just stopped working. It wasn’t really stuck, but it wasn’t making contact. So the technological problems changed our normal routine. We had to stop working on computer homework, and goof around. Some people would say that my husband and I encourage horse-play, but we feel like it is healthy ‘wrestling’. I grew up watching, and playing WWF with my big brothers. It’s just a normal part of growing up – well I thought so anyway. Our boys love to wrestle, and we do too.

It was the perfect thing to replace a calm learning environment, plus we got our sillies out. Sometimes technology changes the rules of our nights or evenings, and I’ve learned to just roll with it.

Missionary Momma Mia  

p.s. now the H key is 'fixed' but definitely stuck 

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      

Technology Rules!

Technology rules…my evening

It takes such a really long time to clear pictures from my phone and think about what I’m going to do with them. I can’t really spend time thinking about which pictures should actually be printed up for a photo album, or to hand on our wall. I have to be as focused as possible so I can get to sleep ASAP!

At the same time it is important to clear off old pictures from my phone so that I can take pictures tomorrow when we sing happy birthday to my two birthday boys. I just have to make sure that I really did save those photos on the external harddrive. Then, I do kinda un-check a few pictures to make sure they are saved on both my phone and my external harddrive. In case I want to look at them on my phone, or share them with someone or post on some social media.

I have one more picture file to go through on my phone before I can hit the sack.

The life of mommies!

Missionary Momma Mia 

My day….

My morning started slow with my hubby bringing me coffee and toast in bed. Then I was occupied with supervising kid chores until their bus came late today. One Wednesday a month the children have a ‘late start day at school’ That was today. So some parents spend lots of time cleaning up after their kids, the other parents spend all of their time cleaning up after their kids. In an effort to clean up ‘less’ I supervised my three boys cleaning efforts until their bus came. 

My husband asked me to watch the computer screen as he practiced an online Colorado Drivers test. Some of the answers literally changed every practice test. So we laughed at the results that are skewed to make you think you failed, and understood why the website has a link that says “noticed any errors on the test” We noticed….We spent some time on international communication with our kids in Mozambique. 

After that, I ate some left over pizza with him, and headed to Downtown Denver where my school campus is located. My drive is usually under an hour. My Wednesday class is only once a week, so it is extended. When my class was over, I talked with one of the moms who is coming to our boys’ birthday party this weekend as I walked from the center of my campus to my car parked in the cheap car lot. Saving dollars and cents, and getting a little bit of cardio. (I will keep telling myself that)

The party call was nice. We discussed a back-up plan if the weather doesn’t permit an outside celebration. Spring in this part of Colorado can be full of surprises. I’m hoping and praying that we are surprised with sunshine! ;-)

I got home around 5:20 had dinner. Helped my boys with homework. Wrote some important emails, and tried to ignore that fact that I still have homework of my own to finish. My loving husband asked me if I was working on my homework a few minutes after I got out of the shower.

I spent some time studying and working on homework. Then decided that sleep will help me more than crunching in this sleepy state. So I’m off to bed.

In my efforts to make you sleepy I have written about my day. I would like to include a yawn here to help you take a nap or get some sleep. 

I chuckle….well, this is me. This is what I left Africa for. To further my education and that of our entire family. So that's kinda what we do, or something like that almost every weekday.

Missionary Momma Mia

We are called to carry the message of Azusa Now

It has been a day full of Azusa now, I didn’t attend though. I was able to plug into what the God was doing because they had live streaming of the entire event. It’s just now closing. I am over full. I’m so thrilled. The face of Revival is changing.

I’m remembering how it was sometimes very difficult to attend revival meetings or conferences and organize child care. Today, I was able to tune into revival meetings, and take care of my three sons, and youngest nephew this morning. While I was watching the live streaming of Azusa Now, I chatted with my sister-in-law and my brother. I prayed over the phone, and with other’s on facebook. Revival meetings are great, carrying a revival message and living with a revived spirit is Amazing! We can respond wherever we are. We can follow the lead of the Holy Spirit right where we are.

Now is the time to take the essence of Azusa Now and carry it to our everyday lives. Pray with our children, pray with our neighbors. Forgive one another, and be a united church – the bride of Christ!

That’s it for today,

Missionary Momma Mia

Fluff and stuff

Fluff and stuff comes to mind…

On a day like today, I’d rather just think about soft fluffy things and drift off to sleep to make up for the lack of sleep last night. Not sure why I’m even writing tonight, except I want to write  something every day to make it a habit. But all I can think of now is fluff and stuff, not really any thought provoking story, or image inducing rhetoric. I’m not even sure I have anything very ‘on topic’ to write about. Except what this mom is thinking about after an exhausting night of being mommy -parenting, nursing, and nurturing with a little bit of sleep here and there.

Why does fluff and stuff come to mind? Aren’t there days we just want to look at soft puppies, and sweet smelling baby pictures? Sometimes fluff is so comforting. It doesn’t seem important, but then why do we enjoy cotton candy?

 There’s lots of things about being a mom that are very fluffy and fun. Lots of stuff that doesn’t really signify much, but in the end it is the fluff and stuff that makes days bearable and full of meaning. I’m a bit of a jumbled writer tonight. Probably because this was a sleepy day for me. 

After writing last night, I woke up plenty of times to help my son breath. We cuddled in our big bed with a fluffy blanket. In the early morning he woke up and asked me for the machine to help him breath.  His shallow breath caused mine to halt. My heart ached for him. This is the kind of thing that takes a few moments in a 24 hour period, yet fills the entire day. I don't have much to write this evening, but I do feel like a productive mommy.

I will go to sleep in a fluffy blanket, with less stuff on my mind since he is breathing better tonight.

Thank you Jesus.

Missionary Momma Mia 

Missionary momma’s prayer

Oh Jesus,

I was so excited to write something today. I woke up just full of words and thoughts, but know I’m finding myself at a loss for words.

The thing is that this day has been very nice. I’ve been upbeat and happy, but I’m concerned about Benaiah now. I love the spring, the spring isn’t loving my littlest guy to much though… or it could be that the weather here changes sooo often! Our boys are on spring break, but the wind was so crazy yesterday that they didn’t even play outside. Colorado weather is so very different from the weather in Chimoio. There are basically two seasons in Chimoio, and four in this corner of Colorado – and we did have a freak blizzard two weeks ago followed by sunshine. So seasons change every other day here…. 

It normally isn’t so bad for our littlest guy, but this week he’s been hit with a cough. Jesus, please sooth his throat, and strengthen his immune system.   

He’s been coughing today, and it is like the cough that he had when the seasons changed in Chimoio. He had such difficult time breathing with the irritation in his throat that we ending up driving him to the private clinic in the middle of the night so he could use a nebulizer. The private clinic was only a few minutes drive away from our house. But with our youngest son fighting to catch a breath, it felt like half an hour away.

When we arrived at the clinic in the middle of the night, everyone was kind and helpful. The staff was great. They led us into their urgent care, and set him up on a bed next to a gurgling machine with menthol smelling mist to soothe his airways. After a little while it helped his breathing slow down and become less shallow.

I remember holding him while he tried to breathe the medicated air in through the face mask. It took a bit over fifteen minutes to open up his breathing, but when we got home he was finally able to sleep. I think I held him all night that night. 

The evening was memorable for many reasons, but one of the most memorable was the compassion and concern in the nursing staff’s eyes as we waited for my youngest son to be able to breathe freely. I never imagined that the problem would persist, but we knew he was in good hands. We ended up having to drive him to the clinic three nights in a row.

When we talked with our doctor, he pointed out that there was more than just the change of the season, there was also a lot of soot and ash in the air because many local farmers burn their fields to clear them for planting. We kept our windows and doors closed as much as possible until the air cleared. We hoped he wouldn’t need an inhaler. The problem passed after a few days. He didn’t seem to have a long-term breathing problem.  

Tonight Benaiah’s throat is still irritated, we’re thinking it’s from a lot of dust in the air that the wind whipped up yesterday. My poor little guy….so we gave him some cough and cold medicine and dabbed some Thieves oil to help open up his breathing. I was a little concerned that he might need a nebulizer, but with a deep sigh of relief I remembered that we wouldn’t have to drive anywhere. It’s nice when your needs are met. We were given a brand new nebulizer so we can help our little guy right away if he needs help breathing. Thank you Jesus for the little things, and the big things….

Missionary Momma Mia

At 7 in the morning, he woke up just now, taking painful shallow rapid breaths. Thankfully the machine was humming in a matter of minutes.....

Missionary Momma Mia

We are definitely an international family, and that will come up now and then, so I should start this little blog about our ‘life’ with a bit of a character description.

Right then, here it is:

Husband is Brazilian. Wife is American. Oldest Son has three nationalities, and all three boys were raised for the majority of their lives in Africa.

So, as you might imagine we do actually have an international family, not very modern, but definitely international. I wasn’t just making that up cause it’s a funny reference to a TV show. Anyhow.

We are actually missionary people. Neither my hubby or me are able to make the claim as the worst missionary because, as so many people already know, that claim has been made by a blogger ‘Jamie the worst missionary ever’, and we won’t pretend to claim being the best missionaries ever. The best is dead, that was Paul –Hands down. No one is really going to be able to win an argument against Paul being the best ever Christian missionary. Evidence is welcome, but it probably won’t shake my opinion.

I’m not gonna be arrogant and pretend like we are perfect. There was only one perfect man on a mission thus far, and his name is Jesus. We are however, interesting missionary people somewhere between the worst and best missionaries. Do we want to be perfect like Jesus? Well that’s the aim people. I’m tired of sucking in life, and repeating the same lessons. It would be nice to get the point and move on. Right? That is kinda my version of sharing in the sufferings of Christ. He suffered unto perfection. He doesn’t ever just do something hard for the sake of it being hard or painful. So I feel like his perfection is attainable, on different levels in different areas of our lives as we follow Jesus.

I don’t try to be the worst or best missionary. I’m not gonna pretend that I am perfect. There might be some areas in my life that are perfected. We all tend to take for granted the childhood lessons that we actually have perfected and are the foundations of our successful living as youth and then adults. I’m really glad that my beautiful brain did accomplish awesome things like regulating my breathing, heartbeat and functionality of other vital organs. It might not be perfect but pretty close to it. I don’t usually have to think about breathing….

I don’t want to take that for granted anymore, or other parts of my life that feel pretty close to perfect. I feel like sharing some of the lessons that I’ve learned as a “not so great, not so terrible” missionary wife and mother of an International Family will be a great foundation for me to perfect writing, even if it is only for my kids.

So here is the beginning of me talking about the things I’ve noticed, learned, am learning, and find literally too funny not to share.

Momma Missionary