While at orientation we had a cross-cultural night for Sub-Saharan Africa. You may remember me sharing about that in an earlier entry. We sang many songs from all over sub-saharan, form the west African coast to the south and the east. But two songs were dear to us in the mix of worship. Why were two dear to us? Well, because of these wonderful people:

Jenna shared a song, Yallah Bahkna, with us in Wolof (a language of Senegal). Yallah Bahkna is a familiar tune to many of us: God is so Good. =) The girls still sing it. And I instantly miss Jenna and wish I could just hug her. Hannah’s the worst at it. Blast that kid for remembering that song! 😉 It catches me off guard. In those moments I’m not prepared to miss Jenna. Ok, I need to stop talking about this before I can’t finish this- ugh.

Then there was one song that surprised me during cross-cultural worship, but just fit us all so well. It surprised me because I couldn’t sing it for the longest. I can butcher any language, just ask the Mozambicans. 😉 But practice and practice and practice and… you get the idea. It’s a simple repeating tune with one chorus that sinks deeply into our hearts and minds. Ni (Nee) Zan (zahn) Je (Jay). It goes like this:

Ni zan je da Yesu ko ina (I will go with Jesus anywhere)

Ba damu da gargada hanya ba (No matter the roughness of the road)

Ni zan je (I will go), Ni zan je! (I will go!) And then repeats again and again.

We alternated between the English and the Hausa language singing the chorus through in just the Hausa and just the English interchangeably. And it caught on like wildfire.

We sang this tune with traveling about as a family on the orientation campus. And anyone from the sub-saharan group would just join on in singing it since we all knew it well. We sang this song in celebration of arriving off the train from New York after the long and tiring journey. And (I have to take a moment here to gather myself)… we sang this together as a group as we hugged and said goodbye to our dear sub-saharan family at orientation. Through tears. We sang it. In celebration. And heartbreak. And view of the journey ahead for each of us.

Ni Zan Je.

When we pulled onto the street in front of my in-laws house after orientation, my girls broke out in the song.

I will go with Jesus anywhere! I love how they first sing it in Hausa. It reminds me of a dear friend. One I couldn’t look in the eyes when we departed. It hurt too much. But one that I know we will see again. And I am thankful. – Love you, Angela.

Ni Zan Je has become a theme song of celebration for our family. And a topic of conversation amid hardship.

And Sunday after a long morning of new church adjustments, I found this little one singing it at the lunch table. Unprompted her little two year old voice arose in natural expression.

I will go with Jesus anywhere

No matter the roughness of the road

I will go, I will go…

 

Little does she know all that lies around the corner. Tomorrow our house worker will come. New faces. New norms. Mommy will become needed for language study. Daddy too. And someone else’s arms will have to comfort… even when she just wants Mommy.  Someone who can’t be understood and doesn’t understand you. But “Ba damu da gargada hanya ba”, little one, WE will go.

Let’s sing it together, sweet baby.

One step at a time down this rough road.

– Love you, little Eden

– Thankful for flexibility as we transition into our new norms.

Wow, has it already been a week since we left the US?! My goodness! Let’s continue where the story left off. So we got to Moz, stayed with some dear colleagues, and headed to Q on a 6+ hour trip to our language study city.

“What was your favorite part about traveling to Q?” I asked them while flipping through the pictures in my mind. Stick houses. Cement houses. Brick houses. Burnt houses (sadly). Tents. Abandoned houses. Open markets. Sand and wild brush everywhere. Young children wandering. Freedom found in piles of sand and water jug companions. Hours of balancing things on heads. (I even saw someone carrying a hand plow on their head!) Goats on shoulders on motorcyclists. Whole families piggy backing on a traffic-dodging Yamaha. Semi truck flatbeds overloaded with a blur of crates, chickens, people, farming tools, bags, groceries, water jugs and so much more. Sometimes we would pass a man sleeping on the top of a fully loaded cargo bundle on a semi bed. …

                          (yes, that’s my guitar strapped to the top of the car!)

The oldest three road with car seats ratchet-strapped into the trunk.

It was hot and bumpy so we had one car sickness victim who later enjoyed the Dramamine side effects. 😉

When surveyed independently each of their responses were the same: “Peeing in the portable potty outside” was the best part of the trip.

Did I mention that there are no public bathrooms in Moz? 😉

#kidworld

With settling in at the new house we also got a chance to see around a bit, visiting Rachael and Abi’s future school (by Feb 2017 since the school year ends soon), a local grocery, and city church. I’ll let the pictures share themselves. Enjoy!

Our House: (I am obviously not sharing the view from the street for security reasons. 😉

 

 

I love how bright and colorful Wanne made the girls bathroom with a cute shower curtain. Such thoughtfulness in making it a fun kid space.

Each bedroom has a bathroom and due to current preference and transitions, the girls are all sharing one room/bathroom.

They transition better together.

Rachael and Abi’s new school starting in early Feb 2017 (on the African school schedule).

A local grocery store (complete with frozen squid!):

 

And once we learn to drive (a stick on the lefthand side of the road) and the driving “rules”, here’s how we’ll ride in our new car (the exterior is also not pictured for security purposes). 😉

Yep, this week has been a blessing! We visited a city church this morning, but I’ll share about that later.

Up on the agenda for this week?

• our house helper joins the mix tomorrow and starts to get familiar with the kiddos
• Matt and I will start language school Wednesday or Thursday of this week
• and another week of settling, transitioning and getting used to our new norms.

Love you all, take care!

 

We started out Monday morning at 4a (EST), showering and packing up yesterday’s dirty clothes into the one carry-on we brought into the hotel last night. Thank you, Lord, that the kids slept well, even if I woke at 2:30a and couldn’t get back to sleep.

4:30a (EST) produced four sleepy, but happy little girls. Last night’s clean, wet hair still held their braids tight form the night before. Their last night’s pajamas were today’s new clothes. Brushed teeth, shoes and we were walking out the door. We met Aunt Sarah in the hallway and Grandma and Grandpa in the hotel lobby. Such warmth. They made this early morning so joyous. Love them so.

Curbside at a few minutes until 5am (EST), we met two more warm faces. Goga and Gopa. Love them so. Extra hands to unload two vans of carseats, baggage, kids, and the kitchen sink. 😉 It felt like days at the ticket counter checking in all the bags, but freedom hit with each one passing on the conveyer belt. One less to drag around…. For now. 😉 While we smiled at each Delta received bag, the kids laughed and played in a nearby open space, soaking in their lasts of Gopa, Grandpa, and Aunt Sarah for a good while. Ugh. Their lasts. That still hurts.

Smiles, a beautiful prayer, a few tears and much love found us waiting in the security line. Broken conveyer belt after we loaded all our luggage through resulted in me and the children catching bags from the next line over’s conveyer belt while Matt waited on repairs to send the rest of the bags through. The girls played and sang from the floor by the mound of luggage as we awaited the search through one bag. Each item rubbed with the magic wand. Minutes passing by as we inched toward our departure time. Lord, please help us not to miss that plane. Guess we’ll do breakfast in NY.

“Let’s book it, little people!” Stroller mounded with luggage, the oldest two rocking the airport shuffle, a toddler riding my carry-on backpack, and a free dancing four year old frolicked through an otherwise stressful haul to our gate. Gate check-in lady was wonderful, putting us at ease that though we were the last ones on the plane there was no rush. “Feel free to get settled,” her smile warmed our hearts. Wanna come too? 😉 Thank you, Lord, as we taxied onto the runway. A quick hop to NY.

Two hours passed quickly, but found time for a bagel, some smoothie and a happy pack of rambunctious kids playing in the airport window. I love how they can find a game anywhere. You’re welcome, NY, for Eden and Hannah’s rendition of the Frozen ballroom scene. You’re welcome. 😉 A video from Jenna and Angela that brought light to their eyes. “I love you, Angela. I love you, Jenna. Bye-bye” the baby leaned in to share as a confidant to the phone. “Bye, we love you!”Hannah said simultaneously. They weren’t staged. Love just pops out like that.

On the plane first (yay for having little kids), carry-on’s stowed and seatbelts applied we sighed. The seats felt luxurious for the first 5 minutes. 😉 The first few hours were filled with chit-chat and coloring. Crying was abated thanks to a bag of stickers that we milked for 45 minutes of toddler joy. Thank you, Lord, for stickers. A strange lunch, but enough to fill our bellies some. A movie and then an attempt at bedtime. 😉 Sleeping preferences are definitely horizontal, but the kids really fought hard at doing their best. Hannah with the two-seat stretch, Rachael and Abi rocking the vertical and Eden fish-flopped all night long in my arms. But at least she slept. They fought hard for sleep. And they conquered a good 5-6 hour stretch. Thank you, Lord, for some sleep for these little ones.

6a (Africa time), our 1a (EST) bodies won the fight for three of us, resulting in a series of airsickness episodes. Thank you, Lord, for flexible kids. Thank you, Lord, for your calm. I knew it would find us. Motion sickness for the win. Rachael was the first victim. The toughest fighter resulting in less-stained clothing. Then it was me, the gene-source. Sorry, kids. 7a (Africa time), 2a (EST) hit Hannah’s stomach post-landing resulting in a mess. She fought through it valiantly. We rolled up pant legs. And pretended like she didn’t stink. Hugs and time fixed tears. South African soil healed stomachs.

Our dear colleagues who were on our same flight proved through with shining colors, playing hide and go seek with the girls, scratching backs, tickling and listening to hours of stories coming out all in 7 minutes of excited delivery. Baggage kinks worked out with companionship. Goodbye hugs at our flight gate. The little two waving and smiling through the window to our new friends and Maputo team leaders, the Jacksons. We love them so already. Instant family.

Despite nearly leaving the toddler (Who was supposed to be holding her hand?), a crowded bus took us to the tinker-toy airplane. Bags stowed once again. No toys out this time. Surprisingly smooth take-off, 5a (EST – 11a Africa time), and Dramamine produced instant naps for four of us. The two oldest rested well and then enjoyed some coloring books. Africa out the window. A beautiful, vast savannah. Mystery. Wonder and then clouds.

Altitude hit our ears upon the descent. Discomfort found warm arms and calming reassurance. Gum for all! Applesauce for all! Prayers and patience for all! Only one hop on the landing and AT. LAST. We erupted with joy in our hearts. NO MORE PLANES!!!! NO MORE TRAVEL!!!! FINALLY! HERE!!!!

Patience waits for most to evacuate before strapping on our bags. No rush. Customs is next. We know we’ll be the last ones. We’re just here. Just soaking it in. The beautiful red dirt that we know will stain our clothes all too soon shone in the sunlight. Familiar pictures became people in the airport windows. “At last!” radiated on our faces and bounced in our steps. Instant summer breeze. Goodbye airplane light jackets! One worker after another. No idea what they said. Smiles cover language barriers. Pictures overcome words. Prayers lifted up. Customs was coming.

The girls danced, laughed, sang and lay on the floor at our feet. Immigration papers finally complete. We knew we’d be the last ones. No rush. The longer we stayed the better chance our colleague could make it in to help translate/negotiate at customs.  And then the man of the hour came in the baggage claim door. Instant peace. Taylor grabbed our bags off the carousel as passports were stamped. Bags. And bags. And bags. Moving with four kids looks crazy. Just crazy.

Duck-duck goose while they talked to customs. Airport workers smiled. Kids bring delight. Curly hair for the win! 😉 Oblivion to their comments. Happy to live in the unknown for the time being. 😉

This worker, not that worker bag transfers to the car. Ignorance claims at outreached hands. No extra money today. No extra help today. Seven kids crammed in the truck AC while inventorying bags. Such giggles. Such delight at the window lever to roll down the windows. Hahaha. Kids are hilarious. Foreign world delights found in 1980’s norms. 😉

A short ride to the house. Faces peering out the windows drinking in Mozambique one dirt road and shanty at a time. Haitian design patterns played out in Mozambique flare. Some poverty looks are universal. The first breathing of home. Thank you, Lord. Just thank you.

Dirt, dirt and more dirt delights in the backyard. Instant hospitality. Spaghetti devouring. Warm bath water produced happy and clean bedtime candidates. One toddler tantrum endured and then 7:30p (1:30p EST), when kid sleep hit hard. I made it for an hour of convo. Sweet friends. Sweet, sweet friends. Suddenly my eyes rolled closed. Couldn’t fight it any longer. 8:30p (2:30p EST), Matt and I hit the pillow. 11p (5p EST) a knock comes at the door. The bread store next door began kneading tomorrow’s bread. New noises. Two sets of nervous eyes. Defining new norms, two handfuls of grapes (it was 5p in their confused world!), and a cup of juice sent Hannah and Abi, and Eden who had joined the confusion, reassuringly back to their beds. Thank you, Lord, for their confidence.

7a (1a EST) light peaked under the blacked-out window. Could it be? Had they all slept?! Four little ladies and one husband continued to enjoy their sleep. A few small attempts at leaving messages of love and story-sharing with our beloved Americans. 😉 Smiles from our colleagues. Praise for super flexible sleeping children. An 8:30a (2:20a EST) kid wake-up. Africa schedule begins. Pancake smiles. Wonderful little friends. Play, imagination, and a little Portuguese curiosity filled the backyard. Live chickens to see produced today’s lunch. Education flourished. Played out in a nearby dirt-pile fire. That poor paper got the neck-break and was roasted on the pile of mango tree leaves. A broken plate used as a knife to prepare the unripe mangoes into the bucket-pot soup. There would be a wonderful spread offered for lunch. 😉

Wonderfully roasted chicken and soft rice smothered in beans. Mmmmmm. Lunch was good. Full bellies and happy people. The household littles all down for a nap. No signs of any jetlag. It’s as if 6 hours in the future never happened. As if Africa were just in our backyard and yesterday we decided to move next door. Newness still stings some times. Tears happened at the bar of soap. “It’s not my normal,” realizations hit a small six year old. Hugs. Understanding. Newness acknowledged. Letters opened for Mozambique TCK’s (Third Culture Kid). Sweet words of love and new friendships opened. Such family we find in the Body of Christ. Such beautiful family. Thanks, Nalls.

(And for those of you curious people, no we did not bring that table with us. ;P)

Suitcase retrieval hopes bring Matt and Taylor to the airport. Phones unlocked, new phones and meticals (Moz money) collected. Provision errands. Pantry bulking options. All preparations for tomorrow’s drive coming at 6a (midnight EST). The trek to our language city awaits! Six hours until we see our new house. And the settling into the newness – our newness begins to unfold.

THIS is our adventure to Africa!

– Thankful, grateful and beyond blessed.

It’s our last sunrise on American soil for a good long time. 

And our first sunset somewhere over the Atlantic. 

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders.

Let me walk upon the waters,

Wherever You would call me.

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander.

And my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior!

~ “Oceans” by hillsong.

~ 14 hours until our feet hit foreign soil. 🙂

They say our first year in country will strip us to the core. Change us. Grow us. They say we will most likely have an affront right out of the gates. A strong statement of clear enemy lines. This world is not our home. And there is a ruler of this world that we are directly confronting with the Gospel. No, I’m not talking about some over-used, powerlessly diminished concept of evil celebrated in haunted houses and horror films. I’m talking about spiritual warfare and it’s source.

So often it’s easier to run from deep growth in the Lord. As if he’s not a Good Father. A Good Father who knows best in our lives. As if deep growth doesn’t come from really challenging situations.

Really challenging affronts.

Pressure producing change.

Honestly, I am really intimidated by what I will see and experience on the field. How can you watch brothers and sisters struggling so much on a daily basis when you’ve been accustomed to never seeing it? What happens when the Body takes on names and identities instead of just distant statistics confined to hard regions of poverty?  What happens when we accept that they are family, your family who is hurting and suffering? Won’t it just rip your heart out of your chest? What about when the struggling turns inward? A tornado of emotions hit with all these swirling thoughts of suffering and cost.

I think on my preciously dear friends who were on the field for just a few short months when their baby got a 106 degree fever and was hospitalized for six days. There was a lot of fear. Long hours without answers. A lot of chaos. A lot of hurt. A lot of suffering. A lot of unknowns.

Part of me wants to shield my kids from that kind of attack. Part of me realizes that I don’t have that kind of power. It’s humbling to realize you don’t have that kind of control. I cannot save my kids from illness and pain. Part of me feels my stomach tighten at such sacrifices. Such hurts. Such attacks. And then I remember the preparation words uttered at orientation: it’s normal. And even expected for those entering the field.

A strong statement of clear enemy lines.

The test has been drawn up. And I am unqualified.

BUT GOD.

Those words breaking through my thoughts and fears. Those words piercing through text after text of Scripture to shed light right in the middle of the darkest realities.

The relief those words bring.

We are not alone.

We fight not on our own behalf. BUT GOD!

I don’t know what His response will be, but I can most certainly rest assured, taking confidence in Him alone, that He will have a response to the affront! Whatever may come to us on the field; whatever suffering and cost and challenge and pressure – BUT GOD will show Himself mightily.

Dear ones, God was there on days one through five as the family cried over their sick toddler in the hospital. There was the sacrifice of the pain for five days of unknown. But it was only unknown to us. Nothing was unknown to our Lord.

See sometimes I focus too much on the first five days. I get lost in the sacrifice and the pain and the hurt forgetting that that is only the first part of the story- and not even the best part! BUT GOD, our Sender, our Father who longs to draw His children to Himself – GOD steps in! Now I’m not implying that He always works in the ways we ask. No, His ways are Higher. We can’t even think that High, His ways are SO MUCH Higher than our ways.

Do I trust Him? How about in the middle of the hospital room when they put yet another IV into that poor little baby’s arm, knowing it will cause her suffering? Do I trust that BUT GOD is going to happen? How about when her sister falls ill with the same symptoms?

Lord, increase my faith! (Luke 17:5) Help my unbelief! (Mark 9:24) Teach me to hang my every hope on your entrance into the suffering You have called us to.

Lord, that we may suffer well when it is our turn.

That Your Name would be declared among all the nations

for the GLORY of You and YOU. ALONE.!

 

We have been ticketed! – in the best way possible.

One more weekend in the States for a good long time.

So crazy exciting.

And wonderful.

And beyond us.

We’re thankful for one more weekend of living out of carry-on suitcases (we will. not. crack into. those. checked bags! that are. already weighed!!!)

There is much rejoicing as the countdown to setting foot on African soil begins!!!!

• Go, God, go!!!!!
• Thankful, grateful and beyond blessed!!!!