Zambian Zeal

The day after that Portuguese “I Do” we ran off to a training in Zambia.

We spent two wonderful weeks learning, growing, praying and praising our Father for His Word and His work. Through studying some great passages and applying it to the Bible as a whole, we talked through, prayed through and strategized further evangelism focus among the Massinga, Maxixe, and Chopi bodies of believers in Mozambique.

(Uncle John and Aunt Wanne we’re there! 🙂 )

The girls all enjoyed a GREAT kids program in which they all got to be together (huge bonus for kids that normally do life together).

The lake conference center was gorgeous and had some really cool neighbors not so common in all parts of the world. 😉

[wpvideo GlEIDT8A ]

(Impalas alert, but they’re really camouflage)

We took a quick hop to Johannesburg, South Africa on the way home for routine doctors appointments and then after nearly three weeks of July had passed, we returned home to Mozambique.

(We ran into our Moz supervisors in Joburg. 🙂 )

Despite some normal air sickness (Sigh) and some flight delays,

we all had a safe and happy travel, returned feeling refreshed and are further focused in how to better support the furthering of the Gospel here in Mozambique.

July 30, 2018 0

Goodbyes Again

We stood there laughing as we dripped oil from our fingers. We laughed at how horrendously I attempted to roll the slippery dough before I got the hang of it. We joked about being overly emotional when the onions were cut. We marveled words of encouragement as we learned how to make chamusas together (a meat-pocket of goodness here in Mozambique). And there standing over the burner stirring the meat, I had a moment. “This will never happen again. This will only live on as a treasured memory.”

I guess after almost a year of seeing someone Mondays through Fridays you just get used to the normal. Oh the normal can feel crazy and out of control and stretch you in ways you never even had a file for back in the States, but still the faces are your normal. The conversations, the shared stories, the depth.

A part of my normal is leaving and it hurts…

Someone once said that you know the friendship was real when it hurts to say goodbye.

That day I said goodbye to my language teachers. But they were so much more than teachers, they’re dear friends. My sweet sisters in Christ. And while neither of us is dying, Lord willing, fifteen hours south is quite a distance to behold (especially in a developing country).

I was talking with my dear friend in Senegal, cause she’s a dear sister. You know, we were just talking one day about real things, deep things… cause she’s a safe place to process depth. And it hit me, “I think sometimes we process saying goodbye when we have to say goodbye again in a new place.”

It’s the quiet underlying that I don’t really know how to put words to. It’s a mixture of excitement and fear of “being on our own” for the first time without dear supervisors to “bail us out” in our city. And yet there is this confidence that I cannot possibly explain that in all my insufficiency, He is and will continue to prove Himself more than Sufficient.

It’s a jumbling of butterflies that make you both thrilled and feel a bit sick to your stomach. It’s a great and very raw new stress. And it’s all coming to a head as they begin to hand over details about our new home in our job city. As we get our new car and trade in our old one (thanks again, Taylor, for the reliable transportation). As we pack away what we will bring with us and give away what we thought we would need when we moved here, but didn’t. As we learn how to settle into just being us again, without schedules and rushing the girls to school and hurrying to get homework done in time for baths and we just find ourselves… embracing us again. It’s the days that we have prayed for, cried over and longed to hold in our hands that are now being handed to us. And it’s just a lot to think about sometimes. A lot to hold in these hands. A lot to pray about.

Life is life, with it’s curves and twists and hilltops. And we are continuing to learn how to lift each day as an offering to the Father who so graciously gives us each day.

Each step forward.

Each butterfly.

Each tear, both good and hard.

Each anxiety that we lay at His feet.

Each moment.

Lord, help us to embrace each part and say goodbye well.

Before we get to say our next good-hello.

October 9, 2017 0

Even When it’s Hard to Find Words

You know, it’s really hard to find words sometimes. No, I’m not just referring to our efforts to crack away at Portuguese fluency. I’m talking about crossing cultures back across the ocean.

It’s really hard to communicate how much I deeply treasure these beautifully flawed people. It’s really hard to live in the gap between two very different, but very encouraging worlds and find myself at a loss of relayed words.

What do our brothers and sisters of the United States want to say to our brothers and sisters here? Is He not the same God? Are we not reading the same Word?

I find myself floundering in an unexplainable loss of words some days. What will I put on the blog? What will be heard back from here? What words will represent a world that so many may never see firsthand? How can I possibly capture the beauty of the world here without others only seeing the ashes? How can I possibly portray the realities here without others there thinking money and pity need to be given? How can my words encourage the depth I can barely express when language seems to slip like sand through my hands?

These are the thoughts that sometimes paralyze me as I think of what and how to share with you all. No, I don’t over-script my words or create situations that are not true to the realities here. But my heart just yearns to share a depth with you all there. My heart longs to connect my people on both sides of the ocean. You all are my world, disjointed as it may feel at times. And I am honored to wrestle with how to cross the ocean with heartfelt words. I am honored to let Jesus stand in the gap through our lives here.

Please know that I think of you often and hold you all so dear in my heart, even when I wrestle to find the words. Thank you for your joy in the pictures and the videos we spend hours and hours downloading through slow internet realities so that we can share life together. And thank you for your patience as things take more time here and as we learn that taking time is not always a deficiency, but many times an opportunity to really think through and treasure each investment.

The ocean between us is huge… and deep.

It’s easy to get lost out there amidst the waves.

Thank you for fighting the surf with us,

riding out this adventure

even when it’s hard to find words.

August 20, 2017 1

Fluidity

I wanted to inform everyone of a recent change in our departure timeline. And before anyone loses their cool, no we’re not leaving drastically earlier or later than anticipated.

After talking over the IMB’s sending timeframe with the Mozambique staff’s receiving timeframe, we are altering our previous April departure date for Richmond to July 2016. Our dear trainers in Mozambique get the privilege of watching their son graduate seminary and visiting with family for a few months so we are happy to have a few more months of preparations while they visit and return to Mozambique.

This delay in orientation and departure will NOT delay our board vote on January 19 and our February 23 commissioning.

[Now I’d like to take an aside to remind you that despite our strong candidate status, the board is voting, people, to delegate some of the 2016 year funds to our departure and salaries. So, again, if the board says “no”, we no go with the following plans. 😉 So please do know that we’re not trying to be arrogant in any way here in this process. We will be praying for January 19th big time, and hope you all will join us as well. But we have been given the green light to speak openly about our candidacy and our unofficial timeframe.]

In the meantime, this few month delay is actually quite a nice blessing in allowing us to:

Finish the homeschool year at a gentler pace.
Have more time to visit with friends and family.
Have more time to visit with neighboring churches we have been blessed to partner with in the past.
Rally more prayer support.
Be ambassadors for Christ and encouragers of others’ mission-mindedness here on State soil.
Celebrate Matt’s 10 year anniversary with the church.
Enjoy the full Awanas year.
Participate in VBS this year.
Gather more supplies in preparation of moving across the world.
Celebrate almost all of our kids’ birthdays for the last time for a while Stateside.

We are BEYOND ecstatic as things are coming more into fruition regarding God’s purpose for our family and are BEYOND thankful for your continued love, prayers and support.

God is good, all the time. And all the time, God IS Good!!!

December 10, 2015 0

Project Satisfaction: The Dining Room Table

She has a gimp leg bandaged in metal bandages. I remember sliding her over, the beastly thing. She’s sure solid wood that’s for sure! And then I looked down at the crack. Her leg was splintering off. Hmmm, pretty sure that’s a problem. I thought. I remember Daddy coming to the rescue one time when they were in town. A trip down to the hardware store, a few L brackets, wood glue, and some piping fasteners later and she was strong again. Not gorgeous. Not increased in monetary delight. But back to being fully functional.

She has bubbles in her polyurethane finish. And usually some playdough in her cracks. Sometimes I’ll sit there with a butter knife and clean out the sand and glitter from kid projects. She has a little piece of magnet superglued to one area. Oops. I’ve got to scrape that off some day.

Her chairs are mismatched. I love how it’s a combination of the old and the new. I remember those chairs with the knobs from our first apartment together. Just you and me, Love. And Cheddar. My fat orange and white baby. Remember how the chairs were nice wood and the table …not so much? Wasn’t it funny how big that four seater table felt in our one bedroom apartment? And we had such high hopes of sliding that extension in to bust out a whopping six chairs.

Now we have ten. And we fill six of them. And the four empty remind us to invite someone over for dinner regularly. The empty ones remind us to keep our table open for family, widows, and orphans coming through the foster system. It reminds us to be on the lookout for those needing a friend. Even just for a season. Someone to share a meal with. To remind them of their value. It reminds us to be ready. And open.

I love how there’s those big captain’s chairs for the ends. Only one is replaced by the littlest’s highchair booster on a regular chair. That highchair doesn’t really fit up as close as I ever want it to fit. Maybe it’s that the table sags low. Maybe it’s that extra 1 by 4 that hangs under the edges of the table on the ends. Still not sure why that’s there. Or maybe it’s just that the chairs are too tall. But I love that she can sit there with us. No one is too small to be a part of the family meal. Even when you can’t quite hold your head up.

She has some marks on her. Most are washable. Straying markers imagining artwork. The occasional crayon jetting off the Math mazes. The occasional pencil scratches or pen mark from immature overly-concentrated penmanship of beginning letters and numbers. Homeschooling evidence gives her such character. And love.

Sometimes there are grease spots from time-out foreheads. Spilled milk still in her crevasses from toddlers learning from “big girl cups”. Worn sections on her chairs where this Mommy sat to nurse her baby while balancing eating lunch or correcting a pattern worksheet… or both. Chair rungs reglued in from rocked chairs while learning to read. Motion can help so much when the brain is focusing so, so hard. Or sometimes it’s just hard to sit there and wait. And wait. And wait to be dismissed from dinner. It can feel like an eternity those five minutes! Just ask the toddler with an empty bowl of ice cream and a full belly. Not everyone is served at the same time. Patience training wears on her chairs.And oh those hard chairs. They give no support to the tired bones. Fulfilling their purpose of keeping a tired Mommy awake after long nights of broken sleep because the open Bible is more important than napping so many times.

It feels like a lifetime of memories is stored up in that loved piece of wood.

Someday I’d like to refinish it. I’d like to wash away the old stain. Maybe sand some of the needed places. And sit with my older girls and restain our beloved table. Teach them the value of hard work. And the delight of the end project while we recall old memories at that very table.

She’s simple. A wonderful hand-me-down to us. A hodgepodge of two tables’ worth of chairs. Some faded stains. Some scratches and scuffs. One gimp leg.

But she’s wonderful. And she’s treasured. Even with those ridiculously heavy chairs that tend to smash preschooler toes when used as prep chef stepstools. And those crevasse that hoard all things sticky, glittery and grainy, refusing to release them from her clutches.

She’s still wonderful.

And we are thankful, grateful and blessed.

God is so good to us.

November 26, 2014 0

We Needed Toilet Paper and Sanity

Grumpiness. Pregnancy hormones. Disobedience. A toddler waking up an hour early to torture us. Selfishness. Frustration with interrupted playtime by an intruder, also known as a sister. Distraction. And neediness.

Yes, friends you guessed it right, it was a Monday morning.

And what better crabby crew than to frequent the grocery store.

We were out of toilet paper.

And we needed a distraction.

There was way too much time before lunch. And before naps.

But I found the cure… get out your sticky note and jot this down. I found it at the end of aisle 2 and at the back perimeter of the store:

Swiss Cake Rolls and Chocolate Milk.

That’s right, people… the reformation began. And the sun came out (cue the angelic music.)

– Something had to turn the Titanic around. =)

March 3, 2014 3