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

A normal International day

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

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

I even took an evening stroll with my parents.

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

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

S'not soup

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

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

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

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

Thanks for patience and thanks for reading!

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Back in Mozambique

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lots of love,

Missionary momma mia

P.S. to yesterday....

I did ask someone I love if they were feeling alright when I heard them stutter for the first time, and I found out that He was not ok. He had been, or was going back to the hospital for another malaria treatment because the previous round of meds didn’t get totally rid of this case of malaria. 

It was a big deal for me to know that asking a question about an abnormal behavior was ok. He wasn't offended. I knew he was smart, and pretty thoughtful before he spoke. He was usually methodical in his communication and I had never heard a stutter before. So, I was genuinely concerned when his stutter went a little bit into a slur. That's when I said to him what I hope someone would say to me if they noticed a brand new ‘quirk’ or maybe even a typical quirk of mine that was a little too pronounced.

So yeah. That is another reason why I’m so passionately talking and writing about mental wellbeing. That case of malaria stuck around and messed with his brain for a long time. Jesus won, and he's not even stuttering. But that was a big scare. 

I guess that is all I have in mind for mental wellbeing. I’m also interested in other things like, celebrating my little sister’s 30^th birthday, hosting my best-friend while she has a three day speaking engagement near Denver, and all the while getting ready for our trip to Cali and then on to Mozambique.

Do you want to know some of the preparations for our trip to California?

Dance moves! I love it!!!! A dear friend from our early days on the mission field is getting married and we’re gonna do a Bollywood flash-mob dance.

Here’s a few of the dance moves that I gotta try to roll through :-) to read because I thought that if I wrote out some of the dance choreography, then I could remember it better. I'm pretty wordy.....if you haven't noticed.

So here it is: Intro 1,2,3,4

Starting on 5, then 6,7,8  feet shoulder width apart both feet facing forward and tapping. Turn face towards the right lift right hand up straight and flat (bent at the elbow) in front of face, with left hand just under chin in the middle of upper chest. Pumping shoulder a bit and hands at the beat.

On 1, then do the same move facing left 2, 3, 4

Back to right on 5, then 6, 7, 8

On 1, move left hand from in front of the chest to the left of left hip at waist height. Move fingers to soft and long with middle finger touching the thumb. Step with the right foot slightly to towards the left in a counter clockwise motion bouncing the right hip with each step and slightly extending and retracting the arms on each step.  Then on through 2, 3, 4 ,5, 6, 7, and clap in front of your waist on 8 and change directions.

On 1, doing this move going from left to right. Clap on the 8 count

On 1, lift hands up and out in a slow bounce (slightly facing left with right knee slightly bent) out to 8 count. On Jai Hoo

That’s only the first part of the dance! It is going to be fun, and I am certain that the choreographer is going to tell us we look amazing!!!! Here’s hoping.

Well tomorrow is my day off from Blogging. So lots of love for two days!!!

Missionary Momma Mia 

When darkness falls

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When darkness falls we can choose to be the light.

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

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

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

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

Lots of love,

Jennifer

Missionary Momma Mia 

Remember to love

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

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

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

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

That was a long time ago though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Sweet Restoration

I attempted to sing a song this evening. It was a riot! I just fumbled through too many of the words and missed musical cues and intros. Yet, people’s kindness towards me is inspiring. I love when people are looking for potential and assessing skill instead of harshly criticizing faults.

I may not have presented a perfect rendition of a lovely song, but at least I enjoyed trying. I’m more timid that people may think. Just because I can bust out a tune and make listeners who are music critics think it was spot on, doesn't mean it was true to the sheet music.

I wasn’t spot on tonight! It felt like a beautiful failure though. It was very enjoyable to present a gift back to Papa God after he has blessed me with such a sweet restoration of my soul, and the sweet message of a song that had been lost for me until yesterday. I had the courage to try to sing again, my heart was so tender towards Papa God.

Music isn’t just very important to me, it’s important to my life and my relationship with God. I love to sing. I sing every day. I worship in my car, the shower, and hum while I’m getting groceries. 

When it comes to music, I am pretty picky about how I ‘feel’ while listening to a song. Music that touches my heart sticks with me from the moment is touches my heart. Sometimes my feelings are my own interpretation of the lyrics, and that is why I love when people sing for me or worship over me. The singer’s heart comes through the lyrics and their interpretation of the message is touching. Maybe you don’t get what I mean by that. But as much as I love to sing, I love to listen to someone else sing beautifully and soulfully. Today, I had the opportunity to be the person who sings to bless someone else. That was special. I wonder what will come of it. A fun evening or the start of something new?

To all of my friends who have worshipped with me. I miss your voices, your guitar strums and drum beats. I miss the flute and bass. I haven’t led worship in a small group for such a long time. I haven’t had worship practice for a while. Singing with my family makes me literally pine for more community worship.  I wonder if I could sing with a band again? It will be different from singing to my boys at night, or singing in my car on my drive to class. It is commitment. This time if God brings people into my life who are talented instrumentalists and vocalists, I never want to lose the thrill of hearing them play and sing. I don’t want the work in the music to defeat the soul of the music.

A line from a song comes to mind:

“Speak to me Lord for your child is here listening” a song I heard as a teenager. The prayer is so heartfelt. I feel that prayer tonight.

Thoughtful,

Missionary Momma Mia 

Restore unto me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Missionary Momma Mia 

The other highlight of my day….

That was seeing all four of my guys cuddled on our bed watching one of their favorite tv shows. It was really special because they were all reminded of our favorite family show that we used to watch together in our living room in Mozambique. I didn’t even have time to let the full load of memories roll in during my busy day last week. But that moment of seeing my boys tucked in with their dad, and hearing them exclaim, “Hey! This is what we used to watch at our old home in Africa!” Time Kinda froze for a few seconds. I saw them sitting on our silly little couch with our kids all around. We tuned into a few English channels with a second hand dish that I bought as a gift for my husband to celebrate his ten year anniversary of living in Mozambique. It was a special treat to have a few English TV channels along with local Mozambican TV in Portuguese.

Everybody seemed to really enjoy renovation shows. Our big international family gathered in the living room. We had a lot more than four guys sitting together in front of our little TV though! One of my Mozambican sons is so quiet that sometimes he would lean behind the sofa and pull up a chair without saying a word. At first, I wouldn’t notice that he was there for all the noise our other boys were making. Most of our boys had a bunch of opinions about how the renovations would turn out on the newly purchased, yet unattractive homes.  

Tista is so thoughtful. He’s a tender soul. At one point our staff kinda gave up on helping him because he hated going to school. Finally, I asked my husband if another one of our ‘kids’ could move into our house with us. I wasn’t ready to let him go.

My husband looked into my eyes and said, “You really love him, and so do I. We can’t give up on him. He needs more love and tender care.” Our staff were skeptical at first. Then, his attendance at school improved, and his grades improved. We realized that his challenges were deep buried hurt, not simply a nervous stutter. Of course we spent time raising his confidence with speech exercises, but we spent time cooking together, talking, listening, chilling as a family for TV time, and games. These simple moments created a bond that couldn’t be easily broken.

My husband and I began to unbury more of Tista’s story.  Each of our kids who come to live at the children’s center have ‘initial interviews’; and come with some information about their family and closest kin. It’s not to in-depth. It helps, but it is really just a foundation for asking the kids more questions as time goes on.

My husband and I already knew his older brothers, and they had made the same observations as our staff of caregivers. He wasn’t interested in school, and he was a caught sneaking off to ‘get into trouble’. He would go to the market and watch some 5 cent movie instead of going to school.

Those nights of family TV were pretty informative for me. I noticed how intently he watched the shows. He was focused, and very thoughtful. I heard him translating the English show into the local Matewe dialect with one of our other teenagers who had interjected his opinion without fully understanding the details.

He understood more of the show than our talkative sons, but he was still lacking confidence. We would laugh and joke around as all of us fumbled around learning new words and phrases in different languages. We did that with a purpose. It had to be lighthearted, or little mistakes would cause embarrassment. We didn’t want our teenagers to feel the slightest bit of shame – especially not Tista. I grabbed ahold of that moment and encouraged him in his English. He could be an official translator! He just smiled and laughed, while shaking his head 'no'.

So, the next best thing was becoming my Matewe teacher.  The Matewe dialect is different from MaSena or Shona. I didn’t really know a lot of words or phrases because I could get by with saying greetings in Portuguese, or even MaSena. So I learned a few words from Tista. And realize he was more touched by my attempt to learn than by being my teacher. His challenge with speech was gradually going away as he stayed in our home, attended school, and sang worship songs. He was really losing any sign of a stutter, but was used to being the quiet one. So, I asked one of our house moms to teach me a few key phrases before I left for this furlough.

One of the hardest things about this break from the mission field, is that our return date is uncertain. We haven’t been away for such a long time before. I knew that we didn’t have a return date. We have school and uncertain time-frame for documents. I wanted to make sure to do something special for one of my favorite sons. I learned how to tell him that I love him in the Matewe dialect.

It would sound something like reading this phonetically: En doe na quda Mwuani yango

The tears that rolled down his cheeks as I said those words to him were worth every moment of being a baby communicator. My house mom helped me through every sound until it was just right. I wanted to be understood by my Mozambican children whose native dialect was Matewe. His tears were a clear indicator of understanding. He spoke very softly and swallowed back tears as he told me that he had waited all his life for his mom to tell him that she loved him. I said it again and again before we left our last home in Chimoio. “I love you my son.” Sometimes I just tell him I love him in Matewe when we talk on Skype or chat. He's one of our best big brothers for the younger children because he knows he is loved.  

Tista invested his evenings in hanging out with our family watching TV in English not just to have fun, but to better learn my mother language. Learning more of his local dialect was the least I could do for such a thoughtful loving son.

To all of our Mozambican sons and daughters, we love and miss you more than you can imagine. You are always in our hearts, thoughts and prayers!

Missionary Momma Mia

WooWhoo! Say What? You don’t say!

"Say What?"  "You don't say!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lots of love,

Missionary Momma Mia

Joy of Repentance

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

How can there be any joy in repentance?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our world changes.

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

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

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

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

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

love,

Missionary Momma Mia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

AZUSA THEN

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

AZUSA NOW

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

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.....

As it is in Heaven

Why do I choose to write about an international family over the awesome victories of the missionary life, or the rugged realities of using an outdoor toilet? What is so valuable to me that I choose to spend more energy telling my family story?

It’s just that my family is my gift from Jesus to learn how to intimately love people who think differently than me, or acts in a way that I would have never imagined, and love in a manner that softens my soul.

I’m an awkward girl. Really I am. Sometimes I wish I could rewind time because I find myself being caught up in the moment and saying something silly that can’t be unsaid…. Oh well. My family gets me, and in gentleness they correct my thoughtlessness. It’s amazing to be loved in kindness.  My sweet sons, Today I’m gushing over mostly about my romantic, committed Brazilian husband.

My husband loves me more than any man in my life has ever attempted to imagine loving me. I had one really sweet offer from a young man with a crush. He knew that my calling in life was to be a missionary, but his calling was to be a successful business man in Colorado. He said that he would buy an entire African village and move them to Colorado if I married him. It was really not a missionary plan, more like forced refugees, but he didn’t know….

My husband knows about villages and refugee camps. He has walked in desperate places. Through refugee camps, distant bush villages, and remote areas of Mozambique that truly were hungry and thirsty for Jesus. He is a cool man, and a really resilient missionary. He went to the villages, and stepped out of the comfort of his own community in Brazil to spend what part of his life that Holy Spirit required of him.

My husband knows his ministry calling is to be a missionary. Yet when faced with the approval or acceptance of peers or leaders to pour himself out entirely for the ministry, or minister to his family and protect us –he chose to protect us. He has loved me and our sons at the cost of being absent for a mission’s project, or a church visit when we were sick or suddenly needed him. His love is sooo committed. He will lay everything down to be a loving father. Now that is something worth writing about!

You see, I write about my International family because it is my first ministry priority and priority in Life: as a loving mom and wife, I am compelled to be a better missionary, minister, and leader. We believe that Papa God loves family. We are committed to being a loving family that really does invite people to draw closer to Jesus. By people we mean us, observers, participants, people our lives may touch.

Our International Family’s desire is to always love God, and family and pour out our lives in obedience to increase Papa God’s kingdom here on earth so that we can really say, “on earth as it is in Heaven.” In heaven no body is sad. So I like to spread the love, and celebrate that I am loved! You are love too!!Better believe it.

Missionary Momma Mia