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 

Growing a family on the mission field

Today is our oldest son's 11^th birthday. I’m amazed at how that boy has grown. Right that is something that almost every mother says. It’s because we know how true that statement really is!!!

We know exactly how many times their life was flashing before our eyes. We know exactly how many times those scrapes and bruises healed so much faster than we imagined. We know how many colds turned into an ugly flu or sinus infection.

It’s not just some common thing to sum up motherhood, it’s an open ended statement that can be applied or interpreted to mean many things. It can be almost always understood as some level of astonishment. We are astonished. Our oldest son has faced so many challenges and life threatening situations and illness that no mother wants her child to face.    

He’s had malaria more times that his little brothers. He’s been closer to black mambas than I want to admit. He’s been too close to open electricity in a construction site. He’s survived a missionary birth in Mozambique.

I can still hear the words in my memory. “Of course you can have your baby in Mozambique. Thousands of women do that every day!” Heidi was so encouraging and loving. We could come back to Mozambique and have our first baby on the mission field. She wasn’t worried, so why should we be? 

His birth didn’t go as planned (not sure how many natural births do follow a birth plan) but nothing could stop our first little guy from showing up right on his due date. I know that his birth was a miracle. That is a story worth fourteen blogs. He was the first Iris Ministries Missionary baby born in Mozambique. Are we proud of that? I don’t think so. I’m thankful to God for protecting us. I’m thankful that sometimes ignorance is bliss, and sometimes God send’s you to Africa with a couple midwifery books, and send a lady missionary who thinks it will be an honor to learn about midwifery and help out at the private clinic.

He was the first. Now that is a loaded statement. It means so much. It means we as parents were brave, maybe a little naïve, but definitely not afraid. It means that we were willing to do something that no one in our tribe had ever done before. Was it seamless without any problems or unknown territory? Um NO. It was brand new. We were pioneers for growing families on the mission field. It works! Kids are alive and growing. Our three boys are doing well in life. Guess what other Iris Missionary families have grown their families on the mission field, and their kids are growing just fine.

Our oldest son is a testament to the faithfulness of God, and to miracles. He was so squishy and a little blue that my husband was worried. We just prayed as he took a moment to draw his first breath. Then there is was, a little tiny cry and a big newborn breath. We look at him now and know that the goodness of God on his life is a rich American, Brazilian and Mozambican inheritance. Our beautiful Mozambican friends told us that Jonathan belongs to Mozambique. We can go back to our countries when we need to, but he is African. He is Mozambican. We would all laugh when our friend Aida said, that he is much lighter than most other Mozambican’s, like cream in coffee! We would laugh. All of our friends know how much we love to drink coffee with cream.

Happy birthday to our firstborn son! We love you forever our little Mozambican, Brazilian, American!!!

Missionary Momma Mia

Sabbath Rest

That's right folks. I'm gonna be all 'religious' about not writing one day a week. That will be my 'Sabbath Rest'. I believe in it as a concept - taking a day off each week not only to rest, but to recharge, reconnect with family, God and his other kiddos. Yep, I do believe in the concept of 'Sabbath Rest', and not absolutely the traditional Hebrew understanding of a Sabbath. I can hear Hovel and other characters from the Fiddler on the Roof singing, "Sunrise Sunset, sunrise Sunset...."

I am not exactly observing certain hours for my Sabbath Rest, but it is basically one day - through the evening and night, until the next morning.

That might not seem like a big deal. It's not huge, but I just want to give people a heads up. Letting people know what to expect from me on my Sabbath helps my Sabbath Rest be more awesome.

Head's Up:

You want to know what Sabbath means to me if you expect this blog about my silly International Family to have a blog every single day. Right-O! There will be no blog when I'm chill-laxen with Jesus, family, and church family.

Let me say that again. What Sabbath means for me is important to anyone who might look for a blog tomorrow evening. There won't be one. That's because I am committed to writing to express myself and get this thoughts written down; however, I am not actually going to let this writing project take away from my day off with the family in worship and relaxation.

My amazing friends and co-workers understand that there is one day a week that I don't open emails, or social media. I literally disconnect from the virtual world, and don't even take phone calls or respond to work communication unless it is an emergency. People know not to contact me unless previously organized, or it is an urgent emergency that requires my attention.

In my line of ministry 'work' there a lots of emergencies. We've seen lots of green missionaries run themselves ragged reacting to all the needs and emergencies around them - there is a real possibility that I did that too. I have learned a lot about urgency however....and responding to urgent need is a great way to become popular, but it can kill people....and drain energy. I'm not gonna respond to everyone's emergency that they think I can help with.

I'm not the best or worst missionary, like I said somewhere in between. But to some observers, I might not have a spotless image because I don't jump when someone is desperate for my help. I've learned to really think about the emergencies and the needs presented that would cause me to jump up right now, and go fix the problem right now! Is this a genuine need, or a scam? Is it something that can wait until morning? Is someone's life in danger? Am I the only person who can help right now? I'm not really super cynical, it's just that some of my experience has taught me to ask these questions.

Some things really do need an immediate response. Holy Spirit is such an awesome helper!!!! Totally relying on God and the amazing people in our lives has taught us how to better respond to needs and emergencies. Taking a day to unplug from virtual connections, and work or ministry related communication is a HUGE commitment.  It is also a huge INVESTMENT. It helps us better know how to respond to urgent needs, and less urgent needs in a timely and loving manner. It also helps us when we need to see something for what it really is, a life sucker. Sometimes people say they needs us, but they don't. Taking a Sabbath Rest helps us to have a clear head to know how to confront that.

We learn to get really chill when the world is going up in flames, because a major crisis happened last week or the week before. I'm serious. There are really big emergencies, but sometimes I have no power over them or anyway to affect them --other than pray. I do pray, and trust that God knows how to love his children. If Papa God wants to use my life to bless and help someone then I better tune into his voice and guidance on a normal basis, and connect with his other kiddos just to make sure that we are all getting similar instructions from Papa God...

So all that is to say that I will respond to the lesser sized emergencies in my 'normal' work hours. Big emergencies will be responded to, but only if it is actually my responsibility to direct traffic or correct mistakes or help...there won't be writing emergencies that I can foresee, I'm just letting people know why I am a stickler. Mind you - it took a long time to actually learn that I had to take a Sabbath in order to survive. So when I start a new project, experiment, or task I will apply the same boundaries for rest. There are six days to work on stuff, and one day to just chill-lax.

We like it, our family likes it, and we are better people for it. So tomorrow there will be no rambling words to try to read through or not and give up half way....

That will be Monday. Yes friends, Monday is coming. and I will write again.

I know you think I'm silly. Who cares if you take a day off writing? I do. I'm just setting a precedent because I love myself before I can love others.

I do write everyday, It hasn't been on a blog though....so this 'Sabbath Rest' Heads up is very much for me and my family, and for Jesus as well as any reader who happens to read to the end of this blurg.

Just me, Missionary Momma Mia

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