(written 10/24/12)
I see Your face in every sun rise
The colors of the morning are inside Your eyes
The world awakens in the light of the day
I look up to the sky and say
You're Beautiful
In Mozambique, the day starts when the sun comes up. I realize that this happens in many cultures and time zones all over the world, but in Mozambique, a place where electricity is not a common utility in the homes, the sun is greatly relied upon for work. In my house, the chickens wake up first, followed by Avõ, then the kids and then me. They let me sleep in a bit, since I was a guest but most days still started around 5:30. The door of our house opens to the most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen and somehow, sweeping and crushing mandioka for breakfast isn't as terrible with God's beautiful sunrise starring me in the face and His eyes looking down on me. Not many things are awake in the world when the sun rises and families don't really start to communicate with each other or others until later. And even tho I find it hard to form words in English at 5 am let alone Portuguese, there is a stillness and a peace that my Abba is in the very center of, beginning every day with His love and beauty.
I see Your power in the moonlit night
Where planets are in motion and galaxies are bright
We are amazed in the light of the stars
It's all proclaiming who You are
You're Beautiful
I wish there were words in one of the five languages I have learned on this trip to describe the brilliancy of stars when there is no electricity for miles and His creation is the only thing visible but none come to mind even after laying under them for 6 weeks. Not one word, not 500 words could describe how incredible my God is and how beautiful His stars are. As I laid under the stars, my host family thinking I'm crazy, and starred up at the moon, stars, and galaxies that I could see from the rock in front of our house, perfectly curved to my back and neck, I saw the amazing complexities and intricacies of the sky and just how creative my Father got when creating the world. But more than that, His thoughts for me outnumber those stars He created. I tried to count one small section of one tiny expanse of the sky. I couldn't even tackle that much, let alone the entire sky! I'm so unworthy of that many thoughts and that much care and ultimately that much grace. Laying under the stars is by far the most humbling experience. I have never felt so small, yet so loved in my entire life. Night brings a welcomed breeze thru our house and porch. The atmosphere changes when the sun goes down. Families make dinner and spend time unwinding together before heading to bed, around 8 pm because the sun has gone away and so has the ability to see. But for a short while, everything stops. No more working, no cooking, no yelling, at my house everything stops and Avõ and I just sit together starring out over the land. We don't usually say much. Sometimes Avõ gives me a quick Lomway lesson, but other than that we simply sit together and enjoy the quality time and silence we have been given. His power is more evident in the stars, but His presence also fills the air and calms our spirits, together.
I see You there hanging on a tree
You bled and then You died and then You rose again for me
Now You are sitting on Your heavenly throne
Soon we will be coming home
You're Beautiful
Life in Mozambique is not an easy one. Ministering in Mozambique is very challenging. But my Jesus hung on a tree, bled, died, and rose again for me. And for Avõ. And for Jame. And for Esperanca. And for every person here in Mozambique. When days aren't easy, and most aren't, it's easy to lose sight of the mission. It's hard to keep the focus on Jesus' sacrifice and sharing His love with everyone in this country and the world. But that is why we are alive and why I am on this trip, to spread His love and grace to the ends of the earth and to share what Jesus did on the cross for each and every one of us.
When we arrive at eternity's shore
Where death is just a memory and tears are no more
We'll enter in as the wedding bells ring
Your bride will come together and we'll sing
You're Beautiful
I have had many hard days here in Mozambique. I have been tested and tried in ways I never thought I would be or really wanted to be. At times, I have questioned why I'm even here and what my presence is doing for my family and the community. But I'm reminded at my plan is nothing. And His plan is everything. His plan is perfect. His timing is perfect. He has a purpose for it all. I am not called to plant, water, and see growth, and tend the field, and reap the harvest. He has called me here for this season and I don't have any entitlement to see the other seasons. I finally understand that if I don't understand why I was here, until I get to heaven and recognize a Mozambican face from my time here, that it will be enough. I'm satisfied with trusting Him and His plan to know that it doesn't matter what I see, His plan will be carried thru to completion. And I can't wait to get to heaven and join the rest of the bride to sing praises to my God, with the Mozambicans He brought to Himself thru our time here.
I see Your face
You're Beautiful
You're Beautiful
You're Beautiful
Everywhere I look, there are faces. Faces of children. Faces of grandmothers. Faces of men. Faces of mothers. Faces of orphans. But in their face, no matter how broken, tired, or lonely, I see His face. And it is a beautiful beautiful face filled with a joy like none other. God is here in Mocuba, Mozambique. No matter how hard it may be to see at times. He is here and living and working in ways we may never see, but will bring Him more glory than any of us could have ever imagined.
The past 2 nights, I have sang praise and worship songs at night while avõ and I sit on the mat. I always start with "You're Beautiful" because of all the meaning and beauty behind the song. I sing alone and started because I missed music and time with my Savior, but I also know that God moves in worship and, especially in my life, uses it in ways I am constantly blown away by. 2 nights ago as I was singing, Belo avos 8 year old grandson who is visiting from Milange, came running over from his house and said "Ti-Tia (aunt in Portuguese) you're beautiful you're beautiful!" and he began to sing the chorus. So I sang the verses and he sang the chorus with me. Part of the way thru, Jame joined in on the chorus. After we had finished, Belo folded his hands and asked me to pray. So I prayed over the two little boys sitting and praising Jesus with me. Then Belo prayed. Then Jame. The next night, Belo's brother Beliniu joined us and he sang and prayed with us. And any time Belo and I just sat together, we sang "You're Beautiful." Fighting back tears, I thanked God for the little sign of hope and the beauty He is creating in this place as I leave.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Avõ Rosa
(written 10/9/12)
Avõ Rosa has lived quite the life. She is 71 years old and is currently raising her 3rd generation of children. She has cared for an albino granddaughter that everyone wanted to kill, she has raised great grandchildren that she walks to school every morning, she has worked in the fields every morning, made 3 meals a day for countless people for close to 65 years now. But in Mozambique, none of that matters. She is old and in the way. Everyone sees her as senile and someone to take advantage of. I have lived with her for 3 weeks now and have seen her go without meals and leave to go to the market and have family members come and take her clothes and not leave her with much of anything. She wears countless layers of clothing and at first I thought she had dementia, but it is because if she doesn't wear it, she won't have it. Every garment she wears has things tied into it. Money, cashews, peanuts, you name it, it's hidden in her garments. Don't get me wrong, African culture is very much so community but in Mozambique, the elderly have no rights. They are charged with crimes they didn't commit in order to get rid of them. Their families take from them what isn't fair to take. They go without meals when they work hard to farm and prepare the meals simply because someone else came and took their share. Injustice is all around, in all shapes and sizes, but Avõ Rosa and those her age are ones who suffer from more than the rest. the average life expectancy in Mozambique is 37 years old. This woman has almost doubled it and her reward is being treated more unjustly than the rest.
I have been hit in the face with injustice for most of my life, whether it be in Detroit, Jamaica, Trinidad, or on the Res and this trip is no different. From July 7th when I first stepped off the plane, I have been bombarded with things in this life that are simply not fair. Why am I typing on an iPad while the woman I am living with has to guard everything she owns in her clothes from her remaining family members, those who haven't died from HIV/AIDS or skin cancer or some other violent death? Why has she worked so hard for everything she has and I have been blessed immensely? No matter how long I spend in the mission field, I don't think I will ever understand injustice or be able to explain it, but I do know injustice is why I wake up in a grass hut every morning and want to give up everything I have been given. Injustice shouldn't exist and is my motivation to keep moving forward and keep giving of my life and my heart. Avõ Rosa should be cared for and appreciated for everything she has accomplished in her life. She saved a girl from being killed and was kicked out of a village for the life of her granddaughter and now instead of being looked up to as wise and full of stories to pass along, she is taken advantage of and left to fend for herself. For avõ Rosa and the rest just like her, I will continue to run this race.
Avõ Rosa has lived quite the life. She is 71 years old and is currently raising her 3rd generation of children. She has cared for an albino granddaughter that everyone wanted to kill, she has raised great grandchildren that she walks to school every morning, she has worked in the fields every morning, made 3 meals a day for countless people for close to 65 years now. But in Mozambique, none of that matters. She is old and in the way. Everyone sees her as senile and someone to take advantage of. I have lived with her for 3 weeks now and have seen her go without meals and leave to go to the market and have family members come and take her clothes and not leave her with much of anything. She wears countless layers of clothing and at first I thought she had dementia, but it is because if she doesn't wear it, she won't have it. Every garment she wears has things tied into it. Money, cashews, peanuts, you name it, it's hidden in her garments. Don't get me wrong, African culture is very much so community but in Mozambique, the elderly have no rights. They are charged with crimes they didn't commit in order to get rid of them. Their families take from them what isn't fair to take. They go without meals when they work hard to farm and prepare the meals simply because someone else came and took their share. Injustice is all around, in all shapes and sizes, but Avõ Rosa and those her age are ones who suffer from more than the rest. the average life expectancy in Mozambique is 37 years old. This woman has almost doubled it and her reward is being treated more unjustly than the rest.
I have been hit in the face with injustice for most of my life, whether it be in Detroit, Jamaica, Trinidad, or on the Res and this trip is no different. From July 7th when I first stepped off the plane, I have been bombarded with things in this life that are simply not fair. Why am I typing on an iPad while the woman I am living with has to guard everything she owns in her clothes from her remaining family members, those who haven't died from HIV/AIDS or skin cancer or some other violent death? Why has she worked so hard for everything she has and I have been blessed immensely? No matter how long I spend in the mission field, I don't think I will ever understand injustice or be able to explain it, but I do know injustice is why I wake up in a grass hut every morning and want to give up everything I have been given. Injustice shouldn't exist and is my motivation to keep moving forward and keep giving of my life and my heart. Avõ Rosa should be cared for and appreciated for everything she has accomplished in her life. She saved a girl from being killed and was kicked out of a village for the life of her granddaughter and now instead of being looked up to as wise and full of stories to pass along, she is taken advantage of and left to fend for herself. For avõ Rosa and the rest just like her, I will continue to run this race.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Avõ Rosa
(written 10/9/12)
Avõ Rosa has lived quite the life. She is 71 years old and is currently raising her 3rd generation of children. She has cared for an albino granddaughter that everyone wanted to kill, she has raised great grandchildren that she walks to school every morning, she has worked in the fields every morning, made 3 meals a day for countless people for close to 65 years now. But in Mozambique, none of that matters. She is old and in the way. Everyone sees her as senile and someone to take advantage of. I have lived with her for 3 weeks now and have seen her go without meals and leave to go to the market and have family members come and take her clothes and not leave her with much of anything. She wears countless layers of clothing and at first I thought she had dementia, but it is because if she doesn't wear it, she won't have it. Every garment she wears has things tied into it. Money, cashews, peanuts, you name it, it's hidden in her garments. Don't get me wrong, African culture is very much so community but in Mozambique, the elderly have no rights. They are charged with crimes they didn't commit in order to get rid of them. Their families take from them what isn't fair to take. They go without meals when they work hard to farm and prepare the meals simply because someone else came and took their share. Injustice is all around, in all shapes and sizes, but Avõ Rosa and those her age are ones who suffer from more than the rest. the average life expectancy in Mozambique is 37 years old. This woman has almost doubled it and her reward is being treated more unjustly than the rest.
I have been hit in the face with injustice for most of my life, whether it be in Detroit, Jamaica, Trinidad, or on the Res and this trip is no different. From July 7th when I first stepped off the plane, I have been bombarded with things in this life that are simply not fair. Why am I typing on an iPad while the woman I am living with has to guard everything she owns in her clothes from her remaining family members, those who haven't died from HIV/AIDS or skin cancer or some other violent death? Why has she worked so hard for everything she has and I have been blessed immensely? No matter how long I spend in the mission field, I don't think I will ever understand injustice or be able to explain it, but I do know injustice is why I wake up in a grass hut every morning and want to give up everything I have been given. Injustice shouldn't exist and is my motivation to keep moving forward and keep giving of my life and my heart. Avõ Rosa should be cared for and appreciated for everything she has accomplished in her life. She saved a girl from being killed and was kicked out of a village for the life of her granddaughter and now instead of being looked up to as wise and full of stories to pass along, she is taken advantage of and left to fend for herself. For avõ Rosa and the rest just like her, I will continue to run this race.
Avõ Rosa has lived quite the life. She is 71 years old and is currently raising her 3rd generation of children. She has cared for an albino granddaughter that everyone wanted to kill, she has raised great grandchildren that she walks to school every morning, she has worked in the fields every morning, made 3 meals a day for countless people for close to 65 years now. But in Mozambique, none of that matters. She is old and in the way. Everyone sees her as senile and someone to take advantage of. I have lived with her for 3 weeks now and have seen her go without meals and leave to go to the market and have family members come and take her clothes and not leave her with much of anything. She wears countless layers of clothing and at first I thought she had dementia, but it is because if she doesn't wear it, she won't have it. Every garment she wears has things tied into it. Money, cashews, peanuts, you name it, it's hidden in her garments. Don't get me wrong, African culture is very much so community but in Mozambique, the elderly have no rights. They are charged with crimes they didn't commit in order to get rid of them. Their families take from them what isn't fair to take. They go without meals when they work hard to farm and prepare the meals simply because someone else came and took their share. Injustice is all around, in all shapes and sizes, but Avõ Rosa and those her age are ones who suffer from more than the rest. the average life expectancy in Mozambique is 37 years old. This woman has almost doubled it and her reward is being treated more unjustly than the rest.
I have been hit in the face with injustice for most of my life, whether it be in Detroit, Jamaica, Trinidad, or on the Res and this trip is no different. From July 7th when I first stepped off the plane, I have been bombarded with things in this life that are simply not fair. Why am I typing on an iPad while the woman I am living with has to guard everything she owns in her clothes from her remaining family members, those who haven't died from HIV/AIDS or skin cancer or some other violent death? Why has she worked so hard for everything she has and I have been blessed immensely? No matter how long I spend in the mission field, I don't think I will ever understand injustice or be able to explain it, but I do know injustice is why I wake up in a grass hut every morning and want to give up everything I have been given. Injustice shouldn't exist and is my motivation to keep moving forward and keep giving of my life and my heart. Avõ Rosa should be cared for and appreciated for everything she has accomplished in her life. She saved a girl from being killed and was kicked out of a village for the life of her granddaughter and now instead of being looked up to as wise and full of stories to pass along, she is taken advantage of and left to fend for herself. For avõ Rosa and the rest just like her, I will continue to run this race.
"Exhausted yet Pursuing"
(written 10/3/12)
With only 2 1/2 weeks left here in Mocuba, Mozambique, not much has changed. I wake up earlier now and am allowed to help in the garden, then we hoist water onto our heads from the local well and take it back to the house. I have had the opportunity to crush cassava and sift it for our breakfast the next morning, which reminds me yet again that I need to carve out some time for some push ups. I have swept with branches and washed my clothes in the stream on rocks and with water you cant see thru, but this is all we have and somehow all my clothes are clean. All of our work is done before 8 am when it gets too hot to be in the sun. We start around 5:15 and pack as much in as possible. If it doesn't happen that day, it waits until the following day or dark when the kids bathe and there is no more sun. The rest of my day is spent on a mat. Or at the theatre, which is really a small television and a DVD player in a grass hut with rocks arranged to sit on. I have seen more Indian films with Portuguese dubbed over it with English subtitles than I ever really wanted to in my life, but my family has gone out of their way to take me to do something rather than sitting on a mat. Our work is physically exhausting in the morning, but I think sitting on a mat all day has become more and more exhausting. It's mentally exhausting being the only white person within a few miles and being alone in this particular village and being stared at constantly and having questions fired at you with the inability to answer. Emotionally, when people laugh and talk about you constantly without knowing what they're laughing at or how to do the work they gave you correctly, the days can get extremely exhausting. But this week, in my time in the word on my mat, I stumbled on a verse in 1 Samuel, David and his mighty men are out fighting and as they continue their raids, and in the midst of the accounts, there is a 3 word phrase. "Exhausted, yet pursuing" Of all the words in the English dictionary, exhausted is probably the absolute best one to describe how I completely feel. But David and his men were fighting for the freedom of Israel and I'm sure the only word they could find to describe how they felt was exhausted. Yet they continued to pursue. Just like David and his men, God has called me to continue to pursue and trust in His plan as I move forward in His perfect timing. In 1 Peter 4:13 it says, "But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed." I am reminded once again that I am not here for my desires or my plans but for His glory to be revealed. So for the sake of His glory, even tho I am exhausted, I will pursue and do everything He has called us to and make the absolute most of my time left here.
With only 2 1/2 weeks left here in Mocuba, Mozambique, not much has changed. I wake up earlier now and am allowed to help in the garden, then we hoist water onto our heads from the local well and take it back to the house. I have had the opportunity to crush cassava and sift it for our breakfast the next morning, which reminds me yet again that I need to carve out some time for some push ups. I have swept with branches and washed my clothes in the stream on rocks and with water you cant see thru, but this is all we have and somehow all my clothes are clean. All of our work is done before 8 am when it gets too hot to be in the sun. We start around 5:15 and pack as much in as possible. If it doesn't happen that day, it waits until the following day or dark when the kids bathe and there is no more sun. The rest of my day is spent on a mat. Or at the theatre, which is really a small television and a DVD player in a grass hut with rocks arranged to sit on. I have seen more Indian films with Portuguese dubbed over it with English subtitles than I ever really wanted to in my life, but my family has gone out of their way to take me to do something rather than sitting on a mat. Our work is physically exhausting in the morning, but I think sitting on a mat all day has become more and more exhausting. It's mentally exhausting being the only white person within a few miles and being alone in this particular village and being stared at constantly and having questions fired at you with the inability to answer. Emotionally, when people laugh and talk about you constantly without knowing what they're laughing at or how to do the work they gave you correctly, the days can get extremely exhausting. But this week, in my time in the word on my mat, I stumbled on a verse in 1 Samuel, David and his mighty men are out fighting and as they continue their raids, and in the midst of the accounts, there is a 3 word phrase. "Exhausted, yet pursuing" Of all the words in the English dictionary, exhausted is probably the absolute best one to describe how I completely feel. But David and his men were fighting for the freedom of Israel and I'm sure the only word they could find to describe how they felt was exhausted. Yet they continued to pursue. Just like David and his men, God has called me to continue to pursue and trust in His plan as I move forward in His perfect timing. In 1 Peter 4:13 it says, "But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed." I am reminded once again that I am not here for my desires or my plans but for His glory to be revealed. So for the sake of His glory, even tho I am exhausted, I will pursue and do everything He has called us to and make the absolute most of my time left here.
Point of view
(written 9/24/11)
The longer I am gone, the harder and more challenging life becomes. This 6 weeks in Mozambique may just turn out to be the hardest 6 weeks of my life, but they may also be the time when I see God move the most. It all depends on my point of view.
After traveling for 70 hours on a public bus, not counting stops and layovers, we arrived in Mocuba, Mozambique. We were let off of the bus on the side of the road and waited for our community partner, Donnie, to go for our transportation. Before we knew it, here comes Donnie, on the back of a 49 cc motorbike with 13 following behind him...one for each of us. So we strapped on our packs, some more hesitant than others, and climbed on. I have to say, I have never ridden on the back of a bike with a 50 lb. pack on, but it was by far a highlight of the trip and a much needed surprise after 5 long travel days.
After 4 days of orientation at Bernadette's house (the local missionary who is our contact in Mocuba and doing great things with and for the people here), we headed out to our host families. My avõ (grannie in Portuguese, yet another language we are trying to tackle) takes care of 2 children, Jame and Esperansa. They are her great-grandchildren and the children of her albino granddaughter that she took in when the rest of her family, including her mother and father wanted to kill her. Jame and Esperansa are the third generation of kids Avõ Rosa is caring for and raising. The house we live in is about as large as my room at home. There are 2 bed frames with bamboo mats on top that the kids sleep on in one room and avõ sleeps on in another. I sleep on my own bamboo mats and a sleeping pad I brought on the ground in my own room under my own mosquito netting. Malaria is very prevalent here, but avõ Jame and Esperansa don't seem to worry or take any precautions. In the other room of our dark, mud hut covered in twigs, the chickens live. We have a few chickens and some chicks that roam the property during the day but know as soon as the sun goes down to come back inside the house for shelter and food. My first day in the house, I was woken up by a chicken mistaking my open doorway for the escape to the outside world and tried to jump through my mosquito net. I jumped awake and avõ Rosa just laughed and picked him up and took him outside. Avõ Rosa and the kids wake up with the sun around 5 am. I am left to sleep until around 7 when she wakes me up to wash my face, brush my teeth, and eat breakfast. We sweep the porch and some of the property and then sit on the stoop under the shade for hours. Sometimes, avõ sends me back to bed until its bath time, where I am taken out to a large bush in the field behind our house and given a pail of water that her or one of the kids went and fetched from the well for me and she graciously heated over the fire (that doesn't usually happen, it's usually freezing cold water). In the culture here, everyone sees everything about each other and unless its a male seeing a female, no one thinks twice about it. In addition to bathing, there is a naturally made pit shortly past the bush where I go to the bathroom. There are leaves and loose dirt to cover up any mess I leave behind, and at night, when it's dark, we simply dig holes near the house and do what we need to. After I bathe, it's back to the mats for lunch. Food here consists of a maize and cassava mixture that serves as the staple for picking up food, we eat with our hands, beans, rice, and sometimes leaves of a plant similar to a pumpkin. In the morning, we have ground cassava and sugar know as pop or porridge. Sometimes, someone brings sugar cane that we rip apart with our teeth and chew, sometimes, small peanuts appear and we eat them. Other than that, food is very basic and prepared in a very basic way over the fire. For special occasions, they will kill and eat one of their chickens, but that includes the chicken being literally divided into how many people are there, bones and all. Most meals are the exact same, but some have one different dish or a different order in which they set it out in order to change the flavor. Everyone eats with their hands. Everyone shares the same bowl or plate. Everyone washes their hands in the same bowl of water before and after the meal. Everyone sits together on the ground. Everything in the society is shared and from a communal stance. No one is alone, nothing is done simply for one. If there is left over, it is shared among all, no matter how poor the ones are who are sharing it. After lunch, avõ and I lay on the bamboo mat that she has laid out for us under the shade. She positions me perfectly on the mat and pulls my ponytail every time my head moves to put me back in her perfect place. When we wake up, we have lessons. Not of Portuguese at my house, no, avõ speaks lomway. A native language. She speaks about as much Portuguese as I do, but unlike me, she is in her 70's and has decided she doesn't need to learn anymore and anyone who makes fun of her, she is going to simply laugh at. Which she did the other day as we visited the market. She put on her one pair of sandals, without any bottoms, and her most beautiful printed skirt, and grabbed her basket and we went. We walked to get potatoes and stopped to get some fried bread on the way, because she insists on feeding me tons because I am far too skinny to ever find a husband here (good thing I'm not looking). Once we made it to the market, after stopping to feed her daughter and grand kids bread that I hadn't eaten, she bought the potatoes, put them in her basket, hoisted them on her head, and back we went. She bent down to fix her shoes, she stopped to see more friends, we walked down hills, and that basket never moved once, nor did she touch it with her hands. From what I can guess, she has been carrying things this way, as well as all the other women, since she was no more than 5 years old. After we went to the market, we went back to our mat until it was time for dinner. We sit together, sometimes I learn lomway, sometimes we sit in silence, sometimes I read my bible, sometimes kids from the surrounding villages come to see the mazugu (white person), but always, always I am praying. Sometimes, actually many times, it's for God to allow me to see with His eyes because not being allowed to do anything, sitting all day long, being waited on, is not why we a here. But His plan is perfect and His timing is everything. We are the absolute first group to ever stay with these people in their homes. The mentality of Africa is that white people are closer to God than they are so we must be served. We are guests to people that are more frightened of us than we are of them. We understand and speak none or very little of their language. Building trust and earning our rights in the community is going to take some time. Emotionally and psychologically its extremely hard to sit with a complete stranger, in silence, quite a distance from the closest person you know with nothing but endless time on your hands to think and for the devil to mess with and plant lies in our minds. However, it is my choice, my point of view when I look at my situation and the place God has called me to that I can change. Sure, I can look at it and count down the amount of days till I'm on a bus out of here (and honestly, I do know that number and sometimes can't wait) but if all I'm focused on is when I get to leave, what is the point of being here? God didn't call us here just to survive these 6 weeks, He called us here to start challenging the norms and to learn from a culture that is completely different from our own. He called us here "for such a time as this" and His plan was never for us just to survive. My flesh may struggle every single minute we are here, but that doesn't mean my spirit has to. If I change my point of view to see what He sees and love the way He loves, how much more will we accomplish here, rather than just surviving?
The longer I am gone, the harder and more challenging life becomes. This 6 weeks in Mozambique may just turn out to be the hardest 6 weeks of my life, but they may also be the time when I see God move the most. It all depends on my point of view.
After traveling for 70 hours on a public bus, not counting stops and layovers, we arrived in Mocuba, Mozambique. We were let off of the bus on the side of the road and waited for our community partner, Donnie, to go for our transportation. Before we knew it, here comes Donnie, on the back of a 49 cc motorbike with 13 following behind him...one for each of us. So we strapped on our packs, some more hesitant than others, and climbed on. I have to say, I have never ridden on the back of a bike with a 50 lb. pack on, but it was by far a highlight of the trip and a much needed surprise after 5 long travel days.
After 4 days of orientation at Bernadette's house (the local missionary who is our contact in Mocuba and doing great things with and for the people here), we headed out to our host families. My avõ (grannie in Portuguese, yet another language we are trying to tackle) takes care of 2 children, Jame and Esperansa. They are her great-grandchildren and the children of her albino granddaughter that she took in when the rest of her family, including her mother and father wanted to kill her. Jame and Esperansa are the third generation of kids Avõ Rosa is caring for and raising. The house we live in is about as large as my room at home. There are 2 bed frames with bamboo mats on top that the kids sleep on in one room and avõ sleeps on in another. I sleep on my own bamboo mats and a sleeping pad I brought on the ground in my own room under my own mosquito netting. Malaria is very prevalent here, but avõ Jame and Esperansa don't seem to worry or take any precautions. In the other room of our dark, mud hut covered in twigs, the chickens live. We have a few chickens and some chicks that roam the property during the day but know as soon as the sun goes down to come back inside the house for shelter and food. My first day in the house, I was woken up by a chicken mistaking my open doorway for the escape to the outside world and tried to jump through my mosquito net. I jumped awake and avõ Rosa just laughed and picked him up and took him outside. Avõ Rosa and the kids wake up with the sun around 5 am. I am left to sleep until around 7 when she wakes me up to wash my face, brush my teeth, and eat breakfast. We sweep the porch and some of the property and then sit on the stoop under the shade for hours. Sometimes, avõ sends me back to bed until its bath time, where I am taken out to a large bush in the field behind our house and given a pail of water that her or one of the kids went and fetched from the well for me and she graciously heated over the fire (that doesn't usually happen, it's usually freezing cold water). In the culture here, everyone sees everything about each other and unless its a male seeing a female, no one thinks twice about it. In addition to bathing, there is a naturally made pit shortly past the bush where I go to the bathroom. There are leaves and loose dirt to cover up any mess I leave behind, and at night, when it's dark, we simply dig holes near the house and do what we need to. After I bathe, it's back to the mats for lunch. Food here consists of a maize and cassava mixture that serves as the staple for picking up food, we eat with our hands, beans, rice, and sometimes leaves of a plant similar to a pumpkin. In the morning, we have ground cassava and sugar know as pop or porridge. Sometimes, someone brings sugar cane that we rip apart with our teeth and chew, sometimes, small peanuts appear and we eat them. Other than that, food is very basic and prepared in a very basic way over the fire. For special occasions, they will kill and eat one of their chickens, but that includes the chicken being literally divided into how many people are there, bones and all. Most meals are the exact same, but some have one different dish or a different order in which they set it out in order to change the flavor. Everyone eats with their hands. Everyone shares the same bowl or plate. Everyone washes their hands in the same bowl of water before and after the meal. Everyone sits together on the ground. Everything in the society is shared and from a communal stance. No one is alone, nothing is done simply for one. If there is left over, it is shared among all, no matter how poor the ones are who are sharing it. After lunch, avõ and I lay on the bamboo mat that she has laid out for us under the shade. She positions me perfectly on the mat and pulls my ponytail every time my head moves to put me back in her perfect place. When we wake up, we have lessons. Not of Portuguese at my house, no, avõ speaks lomway. A native language. She speaks about as much Portuguese as I do, but unlike me, she is in her 70's and has decided she doesn't need to learn anymore and anyone who makes fun of her, she is going to simply laugh at. Which she did the other day as we visited the market. She put on her one pair of sandals, without any bottoms, and her most beautiful printed skirt, and grabbed her basket and we went. We walked to get potatoes and stopped to get some fried bread on the way, because she insists on feeding me tons because I am far too skinny to ever find a husband here (good thing I'm not looking). Once we made it to the market, after stopping to feed her daughter and grand kids bread that I hadn't eaten, she bought the potatoes, put them in her basket, hoisted them on her head, and back we went. She bent down to fix her shoes, she stopped to see more friends, we walked down hills, and that basket never moved once, nor did she touch it with her hands. From what I can guess, she has been carrying things this way, as well as all the other women, since she was no more than 5 years old. After we went to the market, we went back to our mat until it was time for dinner. We sit together, sometimes I learn lomway, sometimes we sit in silence, sometimes I read my bible, sometimes kids from the surrounding villages come to see the mazugu (white person), but always, always I am praying. Sometimes, actually many times, it's for God to allow me to see with His eyes because not being allowed to do anything, sitting all day long, being waited on, is not why we a here. But His plan is perfect and His timing is everything. We are the absolute first group to ever stay with these people in their homes. The mentality of Africa is that white people are closer to God than they are so we must be served. We are guests to people that are more frightened of us than we are of them. We understand and speak none or very little of their language. Building trust and earning our rights in the community is going to take some time. Emotionally and psychologically its extremely hard to sit with a complete stranger, in silence, quite a distance from the closest person you know with nothing but endless time on your hands to think and for the devil to mess with and plant lies in our minds. However, it is my choice, my point of view when I look at my situation and the place God has called me to that I can change. Sure, I can look at it and count down the amount of days till I'm on a bus out of here (and honestly, I do know that number and sometimes can't wait) but if all I'm focused on is when I get to leave, what is the point of being here? God didn't call us here just to survive these 6 weeks, He called us here to start challenging the norms and to learn from a culture that is completely different from our own. He called us here "for such a time as this" and His plan was never for us just to survive. My flesh may struggle every single minute we are here, but that doesn't mean my spirit has to. If I change my point of view to see what He sees and love the way He loves, how much more will we accomplish here, rather than just surviving?
Hello Mozambique
Written (9/14/12)
Well, I'm sitting on my bed in a church in Maputo, Mozambique. We have been traveling by bus for 2 days and still have 2 days of traveling left, but God is good and His favor and timing has been perfect. We got our visas in 3 hours, it normally takes at least 24. We crossed the border into Mozambique rather quickly and have had just the best possible experiences. Yes, we are definitely in Africa, that was made very evident today as we rushed the gates of customs to get in and as we got off our bus into a flatbed truck with all of our packs and teammates sitting together holding on to the truck frame as we drove thru the capital city. People took pictures of us as we drove, but not because of how packed in we were, that's normal, but that many Americans in one place at one time isn't a common occurrence. (PS, sorry mom for scaring you, but we're all just fine!)
As I have been thinking about Mozambique and praying about what God has for me specifically there, He gave me this verse. "But thanks be to God, who in Christ ALWAYS leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere." ~ 2 Corinthians 2:14. The country of Mozambique speaks primarily Portugese, I do not. The grannies we will be living with speak a mix of different tribal languages, I do not. No one here, other than government officials speak English well enough to have a conversation with us or help us out. Some of my teammates are nervous about not being able to communicate with the grannies, others are concerned that their non-verbal communication will give the wrong interpretation of what they are thinking. But as I read this verse, I was reminded that He is going before us always. He knew the plan of this trip and designed it perfectly for His glory and so the fragrance of the knowledge of him would be spread everywhere thru us. That reassurance, has brought immense peace to my heart and allowed me to see our lack of communication in a different light.
Sometimes, my words get me into trouble. Sometimes, I open my mouth before i think, or I open my mouth before I listen, or worse, I open my mouth before I pray. God tells us to "be still and know [he is] God." I can confess that I don't always operate that way. I don't take time to be still or silent and listen to what He has for me to say. But with my ability to speak taken away, I have no choice but to listen. And if I can't listen to my host family, I have exponential time to listen to my Father. I've heard it said to "preach the gospel every day and if necessary, use words." My actions will be my testimony, my life will paint the picture Jesus has for the people I am living with to learn. There have been days in the past, at home, that I have tried to spend completely silent. If I'm out and about running errands alone, or spending the day relaxing with nothing to do I try to listen and watch the people around me more than I ever have. It's incredible the things I have learned and been able to see jut from watching. I don't do this very often, because let's be honest, how many days can we spend completely silent, but I'm excited to see what God does with my minimal communication and how He challenges me and my heart. I know it's not going to be an easy 6 weeks, but I believe it will be the most meaningful 6 weeks on the trip and I know that I will look differently at communication and speaking because the more time I spend in missions, the more I learn about my mouth and the things I say. My desire in everything I do is that I must decrease so He may increase. If that means my words are fewer, and He has more ability to speak to and thru me, then so be it. I want nothing more.
Well, I'm sitting on my bed in a church in Maputo, Mozambique. We have been traveling by bus for 2 days and still have 2 days of traveling left, but God is good and His favor and timing has been perfect. We got our visas in 3 hours, it normally takes at least 24. We crossed the border into Mozambique rather quickly and have had just the best possible experiences. Yes, we are definitely in Africa, that was made very evident today as we rushed the gates of customs to get in and as we got off our bus into a flatbed truck with all of our packs and teammates sitting together holding on to the truck frame as we drove thru the capital city. People took pictures of us as we drove, but not because of how packed in we were, that's normal, but that many Americans in one place at one time isn't a common occurrence. (PS, sorry mom for scaring you, but we're all just fine!)
As I have been thinking about Mozambique and praying about what God has for me specifically there, He gave me this verse. "But thanks be to God, who in Christ ALWAYS leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere." ~ 2 Corinthians 2:14. The country of Mozambique speaks primarily Portugese, I do not. The grannies we will be living with speak a mix of different tribal languages, I do not. No one here, other than government officials speak English well enough to have a conversation with us or help us out. Some of my teammates are nervous about not being able to communicate with the grannies, others are concerned that their non-verbal communication will give the wrong interpretation of what they are thinking. But as I read this verse, I was reminded that He is going before us always. He knew the plan of this trip and designed it perfectly for His glory and so the fragrance of the knowledge of him would be spread everywhere thru us. That reassurance, has brought immense peace to my heart and allowed me to see our lack of communication in a different light.
Sometimes, my words get me into trouble. Sometimes, I open my mouth before i think, or I open my mouth before I listen, or worse, I open my mouth before I pray. God tells us to "be still and know [he is] God." I can confess that I don't always operate that way. I don't take time to be still or silent and listen to what He has for me to say. But with my ability to speak taken away, I have no choice but to listen. And if I can't listen to my host family, I have exponential time to listen to my Father. I've heard it said to "preach the gospel every day and if necessary, use words." My actions will be my testimony, my life will paint the picture Jesus has for the people I am living with to learn. There have been days in the past, at home, that I have tried to spend completely silent. If I'm out and about running errands alone, or spending the day relaxing with nothing to do I try to listen and watch the people around me more than I ever have. It's incredible the things I have learned and been able to see jut from watching. I don't do this very often, because let's be honest, how many days can we spend completely silent, but I'm excited to see what God does with my minimal communication and how He challenges me and my heart. I know it's not going to be an easy 6 weeks, but I believe it will be the most meaningful 6 weeks on the trip and I know that I will look differently at communication and speaking because the more time I spend in missions, the more I learn about my mouth and the things I say. My desire in everything I do is that I must decrease so He may increase. If that means my words are fewer, and He has more ability to speak to and thru me, then so be it. I want nothing more.
Farewell Lambert's Bay
Written (9/9/12)
As I sit on my bed in Lambert's Bay and the reality of the fact that I have only 2 more days here has begun to sink in, finding words to describe my feelings is not easy. We attended our "closing ceremony" tonight at Reverend Phillips church, where our host families attend and were so kindly talked about and thanked for everything we did in Lambert's Bay and the impact we have had in the community. The entire time, I was in awe of our Creator for even allowing me to be part of this team. I truly don't believe I did anything in Lambert's Bay, but as we talk to more and more people and hear more and more stories about what we have done and the impact we have made, I cannot help but be more and more in awe of God and see His glory in everything we have been blessed to be a part of. As Hein wrapped up our time here in the service tonight from our side and just thanking the community for allowing us into their homes and lives, he used this verse from Philemon 7 and I love how perfectly it summarizes our time here. "For I have derived much joy and comfort from your love, my brother, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you." we have seen such a change in the hearts of the people here and just the joy in which they do life. From our host families, to the care givers, to the kitchen staff, everyone has more joy and are encouraged to keep doing what they do for God's glory because of the love we showed them and the dignity we gave them when it comes to the things God has called them to or placed them in. We have heard that new friendships have formed within the host families and age old grudges have slowly been released for the good of the community and the unity of the group and church. The care givers have a new found passion and pride for what they do after Americans, including and an American sister of nursing came and spoke truth and encouraging words over what they do. Countless people stop Hein and Helene in the shop and ask if they can host an American next time, where as when we were in America for training, we weren't sure if we would have enough for 6 host families. Not only have changes happened on the colored side of the community, but on the white side as well. I can't count how many conversations I have had with a white person who is amazed to hear I'm living with the colored people. They ask all sorts of questions that honestly make me feel like I'm living through the period in the U. S. when blacks and whites didn't use the same toilets because the blacks were thought to carry different diseases. But 1 by 1, our conversations are beginning to change the ideas of the white people as well. While we were walking thru the community every morning, bright and early, wondering what good we were doing, we were doing tons more than we could ever imagine. Our goal was never to come here and change the entire place in 6 weeks and leave, but we have encouraged everyone we can and many people have seen the benefits of what we have done and the approach we have taken and are committed to not only continuing on the heart of our mission, but finding ways to create new movements and better the community in new ways. These people saw our love and our hearts and are motivated to do something now in their own community rather than trying to just "get out of this terrible place." Personally, I could not have imagined a better outcome for the first trip of EM to Lambert's Bay and for the first team of Americans to show the people of Lambert's Bay Jesus and hope in a whole new way. I hope to come back to Lambert's Bay in the not too distant future and I truly believe that things will be changed even more for the better.
From the very first day at the day care, my heart was given to this little boy. He came up to me when we were playing duck duck goose and promptly sat in my lap. He played with my ring and would not move. Every day we visited the day care, he would come running up to me and never let go. Every day as I tried to say goodbye, he refused to let go. His arms and legs would wrap tighter around my body and would not let go. On our last day with the kids, he tried with all his might to give me a kiss on the lips goodbye. I finally relented and let this adorable little man, who I had prayed over countless times, give me a big slobbery kiss on the lips. I had never seen him smile so big and he pretty much never stops smiling. After we left, Auntie Valerie, the coordinator of the day care, told Mark about how much my love on this particular little boy meant. What you can't see is that he has no teeth, not because they haven't come in, but because they have all rotted out of his mouth. He is extremely small for his age and always has a runny nose and mostly the same clothes on every day. But I didn't see those things and that kiss that I got from that little boy meant more than any words I could have ever heard. Saying goodbye to him left me with part of my heart missing, but the smile on his face and love in his heart was worth every tear and every second of pain I felt.
Written (9/11/12)
We had a dinner tonight to honor our host families and thank them and the community members that have been with us along the way in Lambert's Bay. As I stood with the rest of my team to one by one thank our host families, I was overcome by emotion. Yes, my host family and I struggled at times to feel connected, but the thought of not being able to say "Huya Mora" to Auntie Jess before she could say "Good Morning" or not coming home to Uncle Nevile sitting at the dining room table working and making the house safe, or not having Je-Nauvan run around the house all day and make silly faces at me (most of which, I taught him), or not having conversations with Lucy every night before I went to bed was one of the hardest realizations to come to. They took me in and I truly felt like part of the family and they truly felt like I was one of their own. I have never been in a host family type situation, but I will gladly do it again if it means being part of a family like the Kaumfers.
As I sit on my bed in Lambert's Bay and the reality of the fact that I have only 2 more days here has begun to sink in, finding words to describe my feelings is not easy. We attended our "closing ceremony" tonight at Reverend Phillips church, where our host families attend and were so kindly talked about and thanked for everything we did in Lambert's Bay and the impact we have had in the community. The entire time, I was in awe of our Creator for even allowing me to be part of this team. I truly don't believe I did anything in Lambert's Bay, but as we talk to more and more people and hear more and more stories about what we have done and the impact we have made, I cannot help but be more and more in awe of God and see His glory in everything we have been blessed to be a part of. As Hein wrapped up our time here in the service tonight from our side and just thanking the community for allowing us into their homes and lives, he used this verse from Philemon 7 and I love how perfectly it summarizes our time here. "For I have derived much joy and comfort from your love, my brother, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you." we have seen such a change in the hearts of the people here and just the joy in which they do life. From our host families, to the care givers, to the kitchen staff, everyone has more joy and are encouraged to keep doing what they do for God's glory because of the love we showed them and the dignity we gave them when it comes to the things God has called them to or placed them in. We have heard that new friendships have formed within the host families and age old grudges have slowly been released for the good of the community and the unity of the group and church. The care givers have a new found passion and pride for what they do after Americans, including and an American sister of nursing came and spoke truth and encouraging words over what they do. Countless people stop Hein and Helene in the shop and ask if they can host an American next time, where as when we were in America for training, we weren't sure if we would have enough for 6 host families. Not only have changes happened on the colored side of the community, but on the white side as well. I can't count how many conversations I have had with a white person who is amazed to hear I'm living with the colored people. They ask all sorts of questions that honestly make me feel like I'm living through the period in the U. S. when blacks and whites didn't use the same toilets because the blacks were thought to carry different diseases. But 1 by 1, our conversations are beginning to change the ideas of the white people as well. While we were walking thru the community every morning, bright and early, wondering what good we were doing, we were doing tons more than we could ever imagine. Our goal was never to come here and change the entire place in 6 weeks and leave, but we have encouraged everyone we can and many people have seen the benefits of what we have done and the approach we have taken and are committed to not only continuing on the heart of our mission, but finding ways to create new movements and better the community in new ways. These people saw our love and our hearts and are motivated to do something now in their own community rather than trying to just "get out of this terrible place." Personally, I could not have imagined a better outcome for the first trip of EM to Lambert's Bay and for the first team of Americans to show the people of Lambert's Bay Jesus and hope in a whole new way. I hope to come back to Lambert's Bay in the not too distant future and I truly believe that things will be changed even more for the better.
From the very first day at the day care, my heart was given to this little boy. He came up to me when we were playing duck duck goose and promptly sat in my lap. He played with my ring and would not move. Every day we visited the day care, he would come running up to me and never let go. Every day as I tried to say goodbye, he refused to let go. His arms and legs would wrap tighter around my body and would not let go. On our last day with the kids, he tried with all his might to give me a kiss on the lips goodbye. I finally relented and let this adorable little man, who I had prayed over countless times, give me a big slobbery kiss on the lips. I had never seen him smile so big and he pretty much never stops smiling. After we left, Auntie Valerie, the coordinator of the day care, told Mark about how much my love on this particular little boy meant. What you can't see is that he has no teeth, not because they haven't come in, but because they have all rotted out of his mouth. He is extremely small for his age and always has a runny nose and mostly the same clothes on every day. But I didn't see those things and that kiss that I got from that little boy meant more than any words I could have ever heard. Saying goodbye to him left me with part of my heart missing, but the smile on his face and love in his heart was worth every tear and every second of pain I felt.
Written (9/11/12)
We had a dinner tonight to honor our host families and thank them and the community members that have been with us along the way in Lambert's Bay. As I stood with the rest of my team to one by one thank our host families, I was overcome by emotion. Yes, my host family and I struggled at times to feel connected, but the thought of not being able to say "Huya Mora" to Auntie Jess before she could say "Good Morning" or not coming home to Uncle Nevile sitting at the dining room table working and making the house safe, or not having Je-Nauvan run around the house all day and make silly faces at me (most of which, I taught him), or not having conversations with Lucy every night before I went to bed was one of the hardest realizations to come to. They took me in and I truly felt like part of the family and they truly felt like I was one of their own. I have never been in a host family type situation, but I will gladly do it again if it means being part of a family like the Kaumfers.
"Groanings too deep for words"
Written (9/8/12)
Have you ever had one of those days that starts really well, but by the end of it, it feels like its been 4 weeks and you are emotionally, physically, and spiritually spent? Unfortunately, Monday was one of those days for me. Monday started off great, right in the middle of God's plan. My final week in Lambert's Bay was starting with beautiful sunny skies and warm weather, which was quite the change from the 37-40 degree weather we had had for the past few weeks. Without going into detail, my day changed within hours and the rest of the day was spent not knowing which end was up. I made many of calls to the U.S. and to Kenya talking thru the situation with my parents and Drew, but it didn't make anything easier. The reality was still there and my body was drained in every sense of the word. However, I knew that I needed time on my knees with my Savior. One of my favorite places to be is on my knees, no matter what is going on in my life, but Monday, it was the only place I felt safe. As I began to pray, God's spirit overwhelmed me with peace and the word to "stand on the truth I know." In reference to my situation, it was exactly that word I needed. But as my week went on and reality started to set in more and more, prayer became harder and harder. I wasn't angry with God or frustrated, or any negative feeling. I simply didn't know what to say. I felt like I was in a fog that I simply didn't know the way out of, but I knew He was all I needed. As my week went on and my ability to pray didn't come back as quickly as I would have liked, I couldn't help but remember this verse..."Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words." ~ Romans 8:25-26. I felt an incredible peace that I cannot describe. One that I hadn't felt before. I didn't feel the pressure to pray or feel like I forced a prayer I didn't mean anymore. The Holy Spirit was interceding FOR me. On the days I truly felt like all I could do was say good morning to God and give Him my day, the Holy Spirit was doing what I couldn't. And on top of that, I found out later, that there were people in at least 4 countries around the world praying for me and the situation I was walking through. The power of prayer in undeniable, but to know the Holy Spirit is interceding as well for me, is a feeling I cannot describe. So know that wherever you are today and what you are going thru, first that I am praying for you and the timing of you reading this blog that God will use it in the perfect way, but there are others interceding for you and if that isn't enough, the Holy Spirit is interceding for you with "groanings too deep for words" and He is there with you in the midst of whatever battle you are fighting and here's the best part....He's already won it. Plain and simple. So hold to that truth and find comfort and peace in the intercedings of those who love and care about you, including the Holy Spirit.
Have you ever had one of those days that starts really well, but by the end of it, it feels like its been 4 weeks and you are emotionally, physically, and spiritually spent? Unfortunately, Monday was one of those days for me. Monday started off great, right in the middle of God's plan. My final week in Lambert's Bay was starting with beautiful sunny skies and warm weather, which was quite the change from the 37-40 degree weather we had had for the past few weeks. Without going into detail, my day changed within hours and the rest of the day was spent not knowing which end was up. I made many of calls to the U.S. and to Kenya talking thru the situation with my parents and Drew, but it didn't make anything easier. The reality was still there and my body was drained in every sense of the word. However, I knew that I needed time on my knees with my Savior. One of my favorite places to be is on my knees, no matter what is going on in my life, but Monday, it was the only place I felt safe. As I began to pray, God's spirit overwhelmed me with peace and the word to "stand on the truth I know." In reference to my situation, it was exactly that word I needed. But as my week went on and reality started to set in more and more, prayer became harder and harder. I wasn't angry with God or frustrated, or any negative feeling. I simply didn't know what to say. I felt like I was in a fog that I simply didn't know the way out of, but I knew He was all I needed. As my week went on and my ability to pray didn't come back as quickly as I would have liked, I couldn't help but remember this verse..."Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words." ~ Romans 8:25-26. I felt an incredible peace that I cannot describe. One that I hadn't felt before. I didn't feel the pressure to pray or feel like I forced a prayer I didn't mean anymore. The Holy Spirit was interceding FOR me. On the days I truly felt like all I could do was say good morning to God and give Him my day, the Holy Spirit was doing what I couldn't. And on top of that, I found out later, that there were people in at least 4 countries around the world praying for me and the situation I was walking through. The power of prayer in undeniable, but to know the Holy Spirit is interceding as well for me, is a feeling I cannot describe. So know that wherever you are today and what you are going thru, first that I am praying for you and the timing of you reading this blog that God will use it in the perfect way, but there are others interceding for you and if that isn't enough, the Holy Spirit is interceding for you with "groanings too deep for words" and He is there with you in the midst of whatever battle you are fighting and here's the best part....He's already won it. Plain and simple. So hold to that truth and find comfort and peace in the intercedings of those who love and care about you, including the Holy Spirit.
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