Joys and Sorrows

It is Friday, and in spite of the searing sun it has been a good week. Dondo days are always laced with joys and sorrows.

---I went with Adelina and Laurinha to visit Louisa in Project Life. They were unusually quiet but I contributed it to the steamy heat that has all of us living in sluggish animation. Four years ago, Luisa was the first woman I had met in Project Life. Her story of loss - a woman with AIDS who had everything stolen from her one night and then her baby son died - touched my heart deeply. She accepted Christ that day and her life began a new journey. We had come alongside her and helped restore some lost possessions and later the Green Door ministry remodeled her mud home. God blessed Luisa and her husband two years ago with a new baby son named Tiago (James). Today Luisa offered us the customary mats and small bench to sit on for our visit. I had an aberrant feeling that some cultural consequence had slipped by me (not again!) or I had missed a conversational cue as all three women were smiling at me in great expectation. I awkwardly probed for some helpful hint as to their obvious mirth. All three women started laughing at the secret they could no longer keep. Luisa took me into her small mud home. She placed in my arms a beautiful curly-haired baby girl that had entered Luisa's world just three days prior. I am so blessed to see God unfold His amazing story in this young woman's life and am looking forward to the baby dedication on Sunday!

---We left the joy of Luisa's home to visit Maria F. Maria has been one of our most successful microloan recipients. She started a business as a hairdresser outside her cement block home. Encouraged by her enterprising skills, she built a small shelter by her existing business to vend a variety of products. When I would visit her last year in PL it was always with a sense of satisfaction that our program for microloan recipients was flourishing. Then her husband became deathly ill. She used her money from her profits to buy needed medicine instead of investing in more commodities. Her shelves grew empty and her husband passed away three days ago. Today we sat on the mat beside her in silence. Before we left I quietly prayed with her and reminded her that God had not left her. Perhaps she will find solace in the skills she has learned and not give up.

---Psalm 63:1 O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you. in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

Stories form the Bible seem more real here. The scene of a dry and weary land for Hagar when she hid from her son because she didn't want to watch him die without water vividly casts an image in my African setting. Our activistas went out this week to share Hagar's story. Some of them can't read so it took a great effort on their part to learn the story in Portuguese and retell it in their tribal language. Africans have a cultural heritage of rich story telling so once they gained their confidence, they inspired me with their natural artistry. Even more endearing, is their ability to relate to the suffering of their listeners. Rejection. Loneliness. Unmet needs. AIDS has an abundance of accessories. But ultimately, their greatest need is really no different from mine - to be loved unconditionally. Hagar found it in the desert thousands of year ago. Today it was gratifying to watch as the activistas shared the same Living Water with those in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

---I see every day here the poorest of the poor going without basic needs. Mozambique still is one of the poorest countries in the world. I watch as their corn stalks turn yellow from lack of rain and hear that their rice has turned hard and dry in their fields. Yet, they hear of the earthquake in Haiti and each week they earnestly pray in the church and want to give to those that are hurting and suffering in Haiti. It is humbling.

The Covering

It is hot, sticky and the African air is aggravating my asthma. It is one of those days when I could abandon wearing clothes altogether if Adam and Eve hadn't set the stage for Designer animal skins. I was trying to explain Eve's first fashion statement out in the bairro this morning when a visual idea came very natural to me. Teaching Bible stories through three languages can always be...well, let's say...an obstacle course. So using visuals can be quite versatile for understanding these lessons.

This morning took me back about fifty years ago to my backyard in Spokane, Washington. It was a place that kept me captivated for hours surrounded by a neighborhood of pines and lush fruit trees. If I wasn't "digging for China" in the dirt then I was handcrafting lilac leaves into everything imaginable including clothes. I would pull off the stem of one leaf and use it as a "pin" to attach another leaf and then continue on with this pattern. I became pointlessly prolific at it. It was just another way a child could while away their time in frivolous fun. Then came this morning.

I pulled the leaves hanging off the mango tree and skillfully "pinned" them together fashioning a low end copycat of Eve's designer figware. The truth of this temporary covering became obvious to all of us as the women watched in anticipation. Pulled from the source of life, the tree itself, these leaves would quickly dry in the African sun and blow away, leaving "Eve" once again exposed to her shame. A great discussion followed; many sharing their own stories of shame. Praise God for His merciful covering that came not just through the sacrificed animals from the garden but from the sacrifice of His Son that covers us with robes of righteousness and takes away our shame. And praise God that the childish steps in our lives are never wasted in His skillful hands. After all, He's got us covered. :-)

Snippets

We are here. The sights, smells and sounds of Moz welcome us as the sultry heat hugs us and melts us down to a puddle, perhaps the only water in sight. Familiar faces, friendly faces, missing faces, it is all here. People squeezed as human sardines into chapas race through an obstacle course of pedestrians, bicyclers, pot holes and vendors. We pass through open markets with mangos and pineapple, capalanas and sandals. The tall coconut trees tower over the mud homes reminding us of one thing. We are here. We are back in Dondo.

In amusement I watch the children from the orphanage across the street in a loud frenzy attack their morning ritual as they push their pickup truck with great gusto down the road to get it started. Women pass by with sunny yellow water jugs adeptly balancing them on their heads with babies tightly bound to their backs. The flourescent flowers summon the seduction that all is well in this part of the world. The drums of the witchdoctor in the distance beat it back into my brain that all is not well in this land of poverty and darkness. That is why we are here and it is good to be back.

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PROJECT LIFE: To be a teacher is never easy. One must prepare and memorize a lesson and then produce a flawless delivery that keeps even the best of students from falling into a stupor. Imagine then what it must be like to not read or even speak the language in which your lesson has been written. That is the case for some of our activistas as they give a Bible study out in the bairros each week in Project Life. I am an American who speaks English through a translator who speaks Portuguese and teaches a Bible study to women who speak Sena who hear it once and then teach it to Bible study groups of men and women out in the bairros. It goes without saying that we need the Holy Spirit's wisdom and strength to accomplish this end. Yet, as I look at each of these activistas, I realize that no one is better qualified to teach their fellow Mozambicans. They have suffered loss of children, husbands, houses and health and live daily with dire poverty. They know the God "who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God." I am looking forward to what God is going to accomplish through them.

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GREEN DOOR: I always think that I have heard it all and then I hear another story about life in Dondo that astounds me. A friend of mine was sleeping in his mother's mud home in October. He is not young, but almost thirty. In the middle of the night a rat chewed on his hands and feet. The damage was already done before he awoke to the pain. Apparently that is a common thing to happen if the rats can get in. Another reason to build Green Door houses - a house that is safe from robbers, mosquitos, rain and RATS! Yikes!