Children's Day

June 1st is Children’s Day (a national holiday) in Mozambique and to honor the children and the day, I with a World Hope team visited a local primary school where we were greeted by around 300 children, including more than 50 orphans. Like flies on candy, I was swarmed by a huge group of the children. The girls were combing their fingers through my hair; the boys were rubbing the skin on my arms and legs; and I was being pulled in every direction.

Because of the school’s location, I assumedly began greeting the children in the mother tongue – Tsanga. They were laughing laughing laughing and a few began shouting out [in Portuguese,] “We speak Portuguese! We speak Portuguese!” What a relief! The extent of my Tsanga is: ‘Good morning!,’ ‘how are you?,’ ‘I’m good,’ ‘thanks,’ ‘women,’ and three songs.

I made a gracious attempt to greet each child and to ask their name, but it was difficult as they were pushing each other around to get closer to me. I was overwhelmed simply by the number of them! Then I was taken in by their joy and laughter – their eyes were big, and their smiles brilliant! I remember the names: Jose, Sergio, Domingas, Edwin, Laurinda, Maria, Mario, and many more!



Three groups of children performed dances for us – two were very cultural, and one was very [as one teacher referred to it]: ‘BET’ (Black Entertainment Television.) We gave mosquito nets to each teacher, each WHI committee member, and to the community leaders. I left feeling very loved and very thankful for the opportunity to be surrounded by 300 children, each craving my attention, and especially my touch. I'm anxious to get my videos uploaded!

Oh Jesus, thank you for the children! Thank you for the precious opportunity to touch each one, and to be touched by each one. Father God, thank you for creating each one in your image, and for giving each one life, and for having blessed plans for their lives. May they be cherished each day, not just June 1st. Protect each one by your hands, give each one health and safety. Jesus, care especially for the orphans, and may they know Your incredible love!

A few more pictures of children from throughout my trip:

The Little White Casket

[Warning, this is a longer one, but I’m still processing and grieving the events of today. Written Monday.]

Less than 24 hours ago, he was in the arms of his mama. Now he’s in the arms of Jesus. Yesterday he was alive, now he is buried in the ground. He lived only nine months, but was cherished every day.

Today I attended the funeral and burial of a nine-month-old baby boy – the fourth child of my students Nhando and Maria. He died just earlier this morning and because there is no method of embalming in Mozambique, the baby was buried only hours later. All three previous children have died of the same symptoms – lung trouble – and what appears to be cystic fibrosis (hereditary.)

However, there is no means of such testing here in Mozambique, and if there was, it would be too expensive. So Nhando and Maria have tried again three more times for a baby that will live, but all four children have died (the previous three died within only days or weeks of delivery.) At ages 27 and 23, Nhando and Maria have already buried four children.

So sad.

The funeral was a cultural experience, but nothing different from what I anticipated it would be. Some go to the hospital to receive the body, but I and the four others I was traveling with were late because we found a friend broken down in the road.

So we went to Nhando and Maria’s house at the Bible College. We stood outside their home and we sang and prayed, looking upon the baby boy in the small white casket. He looked the same as he had the last time I saw him, only days earlier, sleeping. Together with all the students and some community people, we gathered around, and we mourned together.

Then the casket was loaded into the back of a pick-up, and we went to the cemetery. Rachel and I walked hand-in-hand down the dirt path and through the brush up the hill, to where a large hole had already been dug. With men on one side and women on the other, we stood around the hole. We sang more, we cried more, and we prayed more. Maria laid in the dirt and wept. Nhando stood, arms crossed, very stoic, with Pastor Matusee’s arm on his shoulder.

Pastor C gave a wonderful message then together we lowered the casket, we poured in the dirt, we planted flowers, and we watered the flowers. Nhando remained stoic, and Maria remained in the dirt, weeping.

Then we returned to the campus for more singing, praying, and condolences.

The portuguese word for 'compassion' is 'misercordia'. I have never before seen compassion in the body of Christ like I saw at the graveside today.

People are getting saved...

While I have time and a good connection, I have written a series of blog posts that will be automatically uploaded on the dates specified. So although I may not have access in the days to come, there are a few more posts coming!

Until then, I want you to meet my friends: the Mr., Mrs., and Baby

This man and wife were saved during my first evangelistic tour in a nearby village. Their house was the first of seven house that I visited in one afternoon, and they both continued to follow the growing group from house to house, until the sun set. At each house, between one and eleven people prayed the prayer of salvation. It was truly incredible to see the man's spirit change from mellow to joyful as the day progressed, and as he heard the Gospel Message preached six more times.
I will cherish my memory of the day God used my empty vessel!

There is Light!

I cannot thank my supporters enough for their encouragement and prayers. I have received many many encouraging emails and messages of prayer from you - aunts, pastors, friends, Mom's friends, church, family, etc. I truly appreciate it so so so much. Remembering the Scriptures you have passed on, I woke up this morning and thought, "I can do this" and I'm going to! I'm not just going to go to church, I'm going to participate! There won't be English, but I'm going with my heart open. I'm going to pour my love on the people, and I'm going to worship God for all He has been doing in my life in the last four or five days!


With Amelia (L) and others at Ptr Matusee's church
where I'll be going this morning

The Big Question: What's the hardest part about being a missionary?

I can’t believe she’s already one month old!
My beautiful niece, Mallory Jo::


In other news...
Tommy Shields, an elderly man from my church [whom I adored,] passed away May 22nd. He had aggressive lung cancer and was at home when I left on May 6th. Though I had hope, I expected that he would die while I was away, but I regret that I didn’t make visiting him a priority before I left. In the business of my preparations, I thought about Tom, but I never drove across town to see him. Now I have missed his visitation and funeral. It’s hard to grieve alone, so far from home.

I have been asked, 'What's the hardest part about being a missionary?' It isn't the language barrier, the danger or sickness, cultural differences, or being the only American. The hardest part isn't going, it's leaving - leaving behind family and friends - and knowing that there will be life and death, and I can't experience that joy and grief with them.

One of the tsanga songs I learned here goes something like:

Even if my parents leave me, Jesus is still treating me well

Even if my children leave me, Jesus is still treating me well

Even if my health leaves me, Jesus is still treating me well

Even if my goats leave me, Jesus is still treating me well

And so it continues...

With this trip, I am having to learn in a whole new way that even if all these things happen, Jesus is still treating me well.
My bread is all gone, but God will provide.
Satan is attacking, but Jesus is stronger.
I am the only one in the house, but the Holy Spirit is here.
There is no one to talk to, but He is still only a prayer away.

Some pictures of me doing what I'm doing...

I'm playing 'Red Light, Green Light' at the Bible College


I'm feasting in the churches[More details to come on food in a later blog post]


I'm painting and doing chores at the Bible College [I'm in the pink]


I'm enjoying the beauty of Africa
[Here at Kruger National Park in South Africa]


I'm cherising the people of Matusee's church


I'm wearing capalanas


I'm kickin' it at the Indian Ocean!


I'm holding babies [This one I call Baby Tank!]

As evidenced by pictures, I'm also repeatedly wearing the same clothes. The college team from Brookings, SD that just left brought 7 skirts for 10 days. I brought 5 skirts for 7 weeks.

[More to come.. eventually.]

Yes, I have life

Hello from Mozambique, Africa! You remember that I promised I would blog when the internet was accessible. Well, I have been here since May 7th and I am just now blogging! I could tell you 100s of things, but I'm having a difficult time deciding where to start.

I'll start here: I'm doing well! I haven't really been sick, but the first three I had a very difficult time sleeping through the night. When I am in the communities, the food is a bigger challenge than I anticipated it would be... but I manage and I am gracious. It has been emotional to remember my grandparents as missionaries here in Africa, especially my Granddad who was [and is] my hero. I have been sad as I remember him, proud to carry his legacy, and passionate as I preach in his spirit!

Africa is so beautiful - the people and the land. My living arrangements are right on the coast of the Indian Ocean, and at the right time of day you can hear the waves crashing into the natural sandstone barrier that protects the shore from Great Whites.


Sunrise at Kruger National Park - South Africa

More than anything, I have loved the time spent with the people. The language barrier has been difficult, but I am usually able to manage. There are two primary languages: Portuguese and Tsanga. Portuguese and Spanish are similar enough that I have a general understanding. Tsanga is much more difficult; in fact, aside from the very basic greetings, the only Tsanga I know is actually three songs I have learned in church.


Cultivating onions with Mario at the Bible College



With my main man Mo (Irashmo) and Joao
in the traditional African ladies' attire - a capalana

In summary, I have done about one million and one things here. Including: painting the exterior of a kitchen, singing and preaching in chapel, cooking fish and rice on a makeshift fire under a tree, making cement blocks, coloring pictures, digging a well, and sharing salvation at a witch doctor's house. Yes, I have many many stories that I'll be sure to share in the coming weeks.

The internet is dreadfully slow and I have already wasted too much time waiting, so I'm going to say chau chau for now and promise to write at least one more time before I return June 21st.

What's it like here?

Click HERE to see our weather.