The Longest Trip Home...

We did not expect to leave Mozambique in such style.  Not everyone (except maybe Michele Obama) has their own private jet to escort you out of a country! Often, even with our best planning, things just don’t turn out like we imagined, or perhaps wanted.

I was shopping in Beira with two fellow missionaries trying to buy groceries in the expectation that our son Ben would be arriving in two days with CRI staffers, John and Cindy.  My husband called and casually said in an unusually slow manner (even for him) that he should probably update me.  He went on to explain that he was at Central Hospital in Beira and not as a visitor.  With a heavy heart I sent my car, friends and groceries back to Dondo and settled on the curb by the store we had last patronized.  I knew my husband didn’t admit himself to third-world hospitals unless the reason was quite serious.  I sorted out my thoughts as I waited for Phil’s right-hand man, Manuel, to leave the hospital and come retrieve me.  It eerily took me back to the phone call we received when our youngest fractured her skull from a cheering leading accident. There is a deep sense within that says a major change is about to take place.

But changes don’t surprise God, only us mortals who only see the small light in front of us. As I was praying for grace for the road ahead, my thoughts were interrupted by a bicycle whizzing by.  The man recognized me with a huge grin.  It was a different Manuel, not the one I was expecting. A year ago I had helped a beggar in a dilapidated wheelchair outside of the grocery store.  Normally, I don’t help people outside the ROL Project let alone outside of Dondo. But I had felt the Holy Spirit nudge me that day to talk to him and listen to his story.  Taking him to his home, Simone and I had investigated the squalor of his environment. He had six children and a partially blind wife.  In spite of what I saw, I felt we were to help him more than with a couple of metcais coins shoved in his hand. We started him in a business of selling small grocery items of his choosing. He opened up his little “kiosk” in the middle of the slums. We left him with a prayer and a Bible and I returned to the States.  I had hoped to check up on him when I returned this year but time constraints kept me away.  Now here he was…surprised to see me as I was to see him.

Manuel looked happy and healthy as he related his successes.  He had been doing well and could now afford to put all of his children in school. He had bought this three wheel bike with his own earnings and was saving now for a refrigerator so he could sell cold items. I was amazed that such a small amount invested could change things so dramatically for him. He is no longer a beggar. But I knew God had been in it. It was my only chance to see Manuel before we left Moz. He bicycled away as I marveled at such a bizarre chance meeting considering my own circumstances.  But deep down I knew it was neither chance nor bizarre.  It was more than a “the rest of the story” sequel.  It was God wanting to assure me of His presence and His divine care in what we were about to face. 

The rest of the day and the days ahead all became a blur of evacuating my husband to another African country and hospital.  The neck of his femur had been broken and the ball joint torn away from the socket. His acrobatics off the Green Door truck won him a new hip in South Africa. What should have been a relatively short stay became two weeks because of post-op issues like blood clots and UTI’s.  Finally, after 14 days in African hospitals, we are at the Marben Manor!  We hope to fly back to the States and be home before the end of the week. Never has the word home sounded so sweet.  

I was fortunate I had a small camera in my purse

and could take a picture of Manuel before he

bicycled away. God is good!

The Mennonites up the road helped us buy this 

three-wheel bicycle for Benjamin to replace

his two-wheel bicycle.  He can't walk so Inacio

had been walking for miles each week to give

Benjamin his own Bible study. Now he can join

the rest of the Bairro 25th for their Bible study.

I just can't end a blog without a picture

of the children. This was the last picture

I took of children before we had to leave.