Am I Supposed to Eat the Hoof?

I had a flashback today to a Sunday a few years ago when my family visited an African-American church- yes, my very tall and very white family, this was not a "Where's Waldo" situation. We went not looking for rhythm lessons, although needed, but because a baby was being dedicated whom (or is it who? grammar coach?) my mom had taken care of for a long time and has a special bond with the family. I flashed back to that moment, standing in the huge church, trying to clap along (has anyone else witnessed my mom clapping in church? for the record mom, Mada claps like you do, just a bit off the beat but I don't know her well enough to tease her about it) and enjoying the service that turned about to be 3 hours long! I thought of that service today as Mada and I entered the sanctuary, feeling whiter than ever as everyone stared at us. We hadn't planned on going to this church but the pastor called this morning to invite us because they were having their 10 year anniversary celebration. I've mentioned this pastor before, pastor Vosca, who also started the orphanage that we went to, so I was excited to go to his church.

This service was drastically different from the rural church service but still incredible. Ten years ago, the church opened and today it was bursting at the seams with joyful believers. Here are some of the aspects of the church that I just LOVED:

* Worship through songs!!!! I am convinced that in heaven the worship pastors will be African:) One voice alone is not by any means spectacular, but combined with others' and their natural ability to harmonize, wow. What a great analogy of the body of Christ! I loved when they would include a "hallelujah" in the song so I could sing one word. I definitely tried to mumble along as well- like those people who try to sing with the radio even though they don't know the words, you know who you are... This church had a keyboard and microphones which actually drowned out some of the beautiful harmonies the congregation made but it was still amazing. There were 3 guys on stage who were radiating with joy as they danced to all of the songs. Their synchronized moves are hard to describe but it was kind of like line dancing while on speed. (I probably shouldn't make drug references when talking about a church service, but that's all I can think of to make a comparison.) Click on the following link to watch about a minute of one of the worship songs and please take note of the line-dancing men. Also, listen for the "Xena" call. Did no one else used to watch "Xena the Warrior Princess?"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xzW_371ABHs

* Offering! (no particular reason why I only used one explanation point rather than 4- it was equally amazing) I loved how this church collected offering. The entire church files to the front of the sanctuary to give their tithes, singing loudly all the while. Although I don't know the words we were singing, I imagine they were songs of thanksgiving and praise- praise to our Great Provider and thanks to Him as we give back a small portion of His blessings. I've never seen people so cheerful to tithe. They were literally dancing in the rows, overwhelmed by God's blessing. Click on the link to watch a short clip. Notice the women with babies wrapped on their backs. Also, notice the sweet Blossom hat in front of me. (I used to have this brilliant Blossom hat with a giant flower in the front- I was stylin) Did anyone notice my use of the word "brilliant?" My new British friend uses it all the time and sometimes I feel too much like a surfer (which I'm not actually) using words like "sweet" and "awesome" all the time. Also, please tell me you know who Blossom is- it not a reference to flowers. Was that the show where Joey Lawerence said, "Whoa...?" Love that quote. Wow, quite sidetracked...again, you're about to a watch clip showing the offering and you're looking for a "brilliant" hat.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bVJWv6GlG8s

* Kids' choir! I always love when kids sing in front (mainly because I love finding the confused ones and the ones picking their noses but also because their voices are so sweet) and this was no exception. One really cool part was I recognized one of the kids. Peter, from the orphanage was in the choir. Look for him in the video- he's in a red shirt. (This is more like Where's Waldo? now) One of my favorites was the small boy in the front in the full suit.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4yGkzasE1P0


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=biIGwJE9NY4

* Lot translated everything for me. No, I was not having a vision of Abraham's relative (nephew? cousin? Who knows their OT trivia?). Let me explain. So people came from ALL over Mozambique came to this celebration service and one group was from a church up north. They sang a few songs for us and their leader was this hilarious, large, loud man who made the entire church laugh with his exaggerated motions and amazing passion. As they walked back to their seats, he stopped and asked if I spoke Portuguese and if I needed a translator. "Ummmm...big, sweaty, animated man, yes, I would love if you would translate." For at least 2 hours he translated for me everything that was going on. This was great since I was beginning to feel sleepy and couldn't fall asleep while the person next to me was talking to me. Well, I could have but that would be quite rude.

* New pastors and their wives were commissioned and sent out to serve other parts of Mozambique. It was greatly emphasized that these men were called by God and should not be doing this merely to make a business. Unfortunately, this is a huge problem in the church in Mozambique- many men take leadership roles (thanks Lesley) in the church solely to gain money and power. They were prayed over and then a line of at least 50 people walked by to hug each man and wife. I realized today that I have something in common with Mozambican woman: we both love to dress like twins with others! See how all the wives are wearing the same outfit? I used to always try to dress the same as my roommates and Heidi and I had matching Easter dresses into our twenties!

* Prayer!!! One cultural thing I was not accustomed to but love, is how sometimes, everyone prays out loud at the same time. (not in tongues) It felt a bit charismatic but so freeing to be able to pray aloud (or is it out loud?) without any inhibitions. I especially liked that even if they wanted to know, no one had any clue what I was saying.

* Lunch! We were given a number as we entered the sanctuary and then groups of people were called outside to eat lunch. The church had been saving for at least a year, to pay to feed the entire congregation which was about 400 people! We ate delicious chicken, rice and beans and lucky me, I got a giant goat hoof for flavor. I glanced around to see if I was supposed to nibble on it or something but luckily no one else with the hoof was going to town. In the picture you'll see some of the women working to prepare the meal for everyone. Once Mada and I finished eating, we went to take a picture with the pastor and realized church was still going on! Since they must wash and reuse all the plates and have enough space for everyone to eat outside, groups were called out to eat and then returned to the service. Mada and I finally left at 2. That's right, a five-hour service, and it looked like the service was not even close to ending and getting everyone fed. What an experience! When we walked to the car, a huge crowd of kids were leaning on it and little ones were laying on top. I tried to capture the beautiful, bashful faces of these girls who cracked up when they saw themselves on the screen.

Lately there has been a lot of talk of the movie "Blood Diamond." Mainly because many scenes were filmed in Maputo and Henrik, our Swedish neighbor, was an extra in the movie. (I convinced a little girl that he is famous and she got a picture with him and his autograph) My friend Jenny reminded me of something said in the movie when one of the characters says that God left Africa a long time ago. Time and time again, God is proving that He has not left. He is very present and the church is rapidly growing. However, the church in Mozambique needs prayer. Here are some of the prayers:

* Education for the pastors! Unfortunately, many pastors haven't read the whole bible and take things way out of context and completely ignore some parts of scripture. For example, some pastors have more than 1 wife! This is why the work OC is doing so crucial- training pastors!

* Hearts of the church leaders. As previously mentioned, many people take leadership positions only for money and power. Also, there is a lot of jealousy so if one church is thriving, another church may try to discredit the prospering church. Sadly, corruption in the church seems to be universal.

* Eyes would be opened to the truth about Jesus' sacrifice. There is a large group of syncharnists in Mozambique. (when Mada says this word, it really sounds like "secretists" and for awhile I was very curious about what "secrets" they were keeping) They are blending the truths of the gospel with their ancient, tribal beliefs, claiming this is a more "African" religion and not the "White Man's religion." By blending these beliefs, they do believe Jesus is the Son of God, but they try to earn their way to heaven by many rituals which include animal sacrifice. Pray that they would really take to heart the part in Hebrews where it talks about Jesus being the final, perfect sacrifice.

* Witchcraft would be eliminated. There is a lot of spiritual warfare and much witchcraft which leaves church leaders crippled by fear. Even Pastor Vosca talked about how since he was the oldest boy, when he left home, he was inhabited by a spirit. Pray for pastors to have courage and wisdom and to rely on God's strength to face this battle.

One of my favorite prayers is found in Ephesians. I love praying this for others and ask that you would pray it for the church in Mozambique and for me:

Ephesians 1:17-18

"I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe."

I do pray that your eyes would be opened to the hope He has called you to and I ask that you would pray the same for me. I think if we could truly wrap our minds around the concept of how much He loves us and the hope He has for us, our lives would be drastically different, I know mine would. This changes seems to be a gradual process, where slowly, He does open our eyes and thus slowly, we gain a better, fuller understanding of Him which changes how we live.

Life's Great Ironies

Have you ever experienced a moment when in the midst of it, you thought, "I'll never be the same after this?" I've had a few of these, usually in other countries, and I'm sure all mothers and married folk have had the same experience. Well I had another one at church on Sunday and am still beaming from it.

In February my new hero Madalena, passed by a village in the "bush" that was near the highway running from Mozambique to South Africa. (Did anyone else used to think the "bush" would have lots of bushes? For the record, it doesn't, it was totally dry and barren.) So Madalena stopped and inquired of the village if they would be interested in having a church service. Their response blew me away. They said, "Yes of course. We've been waiting for someone to come help us start one." Nuts! If that isn't a reason for missionaries, I don't know what is. On the first Sunday, 40 people showed up for the service! In the picture below you can see Madalena with several of the church goers.
Ok a little background on this village: There are about 300 people total although many have built their huts out of site from the main cluster of huts. The houses are mostly made out of this "imitation bamboo" material that is found in the bush. There is no electricity (obviously) or water so the land is very dry. Women have to walk 5 kilometers to get the water they need! (I still don't know the kilometers to miles conversion but I think that is far- math was not my strong point, gosh neither was grammar or geography or science, how did I pass school?) Many of the people living in the village have family in Maputo and go there to work although it is an hours drive away. They prefer living in the country rather than the city, regardless of the lack of facilities, and most of them send their children to live in the city to go to school. The church where they meet is under one of the main trees, proving that a church truly is not a building. Some of the older people bring plastic chairs for themselves and others bring straw mats for all to share. Many of the adults speak Portuguese but they all mainly speak the tribal anguage. So I was the dumb mute yet again. In the picture you'll see Neda and her daughter. (I tried pronouncing her name 3 times and then felt stupid still not being able to say it correctly so I've forgotten her name but I'm sure I'll see her again and have another chance to learn it. They attended church and then hitched a ride with us back into the city in order to sell charcoal.)

Sunday morning Madalena and I made the drive out of Maputo to the village, Shiparango. Having stayed up late reading (nerd alert!) I was tired and ended up sleeping most of the way. (what a great travelling partner I am) When I awoke, we were pulling off the highway in the middle of seemingly nowhere. In my "newly awakened state" I stumbled out of the SUV into the center of one of the most amazing experiences of my life. We walked past several children scraping rice from the bottom of the pot and placing a new pot on the open fire. Madalena spoke to them as I stood by like the "dumb White giant" that I am:) Unable to even use my very limited Portuguese, I communicated to them the only way I knew how, I smiled. I smiled so much this day my cheeks grew sore. Sometimes I smiled harder to push back the tears but mostly, to communicate in some way that I loved these kids. Let me tell you about these remarkable children:

The boy with the brightest smile approached us carrying a baby on one hip, a plastic chair in the other, a grin a mile wide and eyes that literally seemed to shine. Before the adults came to meet at the church/tree, Madalena talked to the children and when this boy set the baby down in the chair, we noticed his hand. One of his hands was a knotted nub with burn scars going up his forearm. When asked about his hand, he told Mada that his clothes had caught fire and his hand had burned in the accident. Mada later told me that often when they are unsure how to treat a wound such as this burn, the doctors just cut off the area and in this case, they cut off his hand. Here is a boy, with only one hand, but more joy in his eyes than I see in mine! He sang the loudest, smiled the biggest and clapped the most during the service. I now have a better understanding of why Jesus said we are to become like children in order to enter the kingdom. Joy like his seems inexplicable except, he has found Jesus. I will forever feel convicted for complaining and choosing bitterness rather than joy, when I think of this boy. If he can choose to be joyful, shouldn't I too be able to find that same joy? In the picture above, he is wearing the blue shirt with the 3 stripes.

Next, the twin babies. I have never seen a baby produce as much snot as one of them did. It was so neat to watch how all of the children felt responsible for these two. The boy I mentioned before was constantly wiping their noses and the babies waddled around sitting the laps of all the children. In observing them, one might assume all the children were related due to the way they treated each other. They huddled close on the straw mats and there was a certain bond and unity among them that I've never witnessed in America. One of these babies took a liking to me and waddled over to me and plopped down in my lap. This brought only more attention to the white giant now holding one of the beloved village twins. The other twin, dressed in a lime green sweat shirt that had dinosaur scales on the hood, was TERRIFIED of me. I can only imagine the thoughts swirling around in his head, seeing a white person for the first time. He looked at me and started screaming! That's a confidence booster:) The woman next to me laughed and covered his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at the "hideous white monster." In the picture, one of the twins is sitting in the chair while the other is on his mothers' lap. The boy with injured hand is leaning his head against the woman.

There was a brother and sister whose faces are forever ingrained in my memory. These were the ones scraping the bottom of the rice pot. The first thing I noticed was that their eyes were not as bright as the others and their bellies were incredibly bloated. Madalena asked about their parents and they said they were gone fetching water and we also learned that these two do not go to school in Maputo. I've seen bloated bellies on commercials and shows but to see it in person and look into their faces, and force a smile to try to cheer them all the while crumbling inside, is a whole other experience. I prayed that Jesus would hold back the floodgates so I wouldn't scare these two with my tears and made as much eye contact with both of them as possible, all the while smiling like my life depended on it. The boy who at first seemed stone cold, broke into such a sweet grin when I looked at him and smiled. I swear he even blushed and looked away shyly only to glance back right away. So many questions bombarded my mind but for awhile, my entire goal was to make these 2 feel loved and special, so I did the only thing I could and smiled. The sister was not quite as bloated as her brother but was wearing tattered rags with jeans on backwards. During the message she turned to face me most of the time and being less bashful than her brother, stared and smiled every time I looked at her. The brother is wearing the white, orange and blue shirt and his sister is in the very front of the picture in the green.

One of the leaders of the group was a boy who I would guess was about 10 or 11. He wore a blue beanie and was constantly watching after the younger kids, holding them, shushing them, and wiping their noses. He competed with the first boy I mentioned for who could sing the loudest and belted out worship songs. The children came to the tree first and by singing, they beckoned other members in the village to come for church. This boy led the others in singing and throughout the entire message he listened so intently, never distracted. I would not be surprised if he becomes a pastor one day:)

One of the few younger girls, was a bit distracted by me during the service and was constantly fixing her skirt, or rather scrap of material, to attempt to completely cover her legs. Her eyes seemed to bore into my soul as she stared at me with uncertainty. I hope to become friends with her in future Sundays- she has a spirit that is so bright it is hard to ignore and eyes so intense, it is clear she has endured much. I have never been so self-conscious of my long Hardeman toes as I was as she stared at them for quite some time and then looked at me with confusion. (I know sweetie, they look like fingers but you should see my sisters'. )

Finally, the girl sitting in her mother's lap right next to me must be about 2 or 3 and looked at me and started laughing hysterically. (Apparently I can terrify kids or send them into a fit of giggles, just by looking at them.) She tried to play with my hair without my noticing and then grew fascinated when I stood and she saw my underwear line! I guess I should have passed on the "granny panties" this Sunday but I didn't realize kids wouldn't know what underwear is. Talk about awkward: standing to sing and having a toddler trace your underwear and try to grab it! During the last songs, I reached my hand down and left an open palm to which she quickly grasped and demanded my other hand and we began to twirl in circles. She then signaled that she wanted me to lower myself so she could climb on my back! So during the last songs, I danced around and mouthed the words with an adorable little toddler clinging to my neck cracking up. How could I be the same after this?

The order of events at the service were as follows:

* People trickled in from their huts and farming plots to join the singing children under the tree.

* The congregation sang amazing songs including motions. I hummed along and joined in the motions. I felt like my mom when I tried to find the beat to clap along and was always a little off:) I tried to take video of some of the worship as non-chalantly as possible so you could hear these amazing voices. I've heard some incredible worship teams in the states, but none hold a candle to this group. Please ignore my awkward face in the video and I will try to take more video next time because the songs are just incredible.

Click on the following to link to watch a short clip.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WBj2rRDirto


* Madalena gave a message from Psalm 1 which was translated from Portuguese into the tribal language. I didn't understand a thing yet was completely captivated. These people are hungry for Jesus and hungry to learn more about him. Most can't read so this is their opportunity to learn.

* Members stood to give a testimony of what God was doing in their life. The oldest man (in the picture above) gave his full testimony and Madalena later told me that during one of the first services, a demon had manifested itself in this man. He was flung to the ground and muttering incomprehendable phrases. The congregation was frightened and Mada instructed them to keep singing while she went and prayed and demanded in the name of Jesus that the demon leave and it did and hadn't returned since. Wow.

* After each testimony, another song was sung.

* Offering. All the adults went forward and put their coins on one of the chairs as the offering in hopes of one day building an actual church building. Mada hadn't gone to the church the week before since she was picking me up but they had met anyways and collected an offering which they also presented to Madalena. Such faithfulness truly is inspiring.

* More singing and dancing and then the "meet and greet" portion that included shaking hands with every single person present. Luckily the DeVries had taught me the proper way to shake hands with people older than me and I remembered to grab my right elbow with my left hand as I shook hands.

* Chairs and mats were packed up. One of the women taught me how to sit as a proper Mozambican woman (rather than the Americanized slut that I apparently appeared to be to them by sitting Indian style) I showed the kids how the camera worked and they were immensly intrigued by being able to see themselves on the screen just seconds afterwards. One of the men insisted on being in a picture and was thrilled to see himself on the screen. Yes, he is the one doing the "cheerleader" pose.

Not a single word was exchanged between us, yet I felt an instant connection with this village and cannot wait to return. During the service, I looked around at the shining faces and tried to drink in the beauty of it all. In college I had seriously doubted God's love and even His existence, partly because I thought there was too much unfairness in His system and "what about the people in Africa?" Isn't this a common question among skeptics (including myself)? "What about Africa, God? They don't have a fair chance at getting to know you. How can you hold them accountable?" I'm not here to start a theological debate but I now feel silly for questioning God because of Africa. Of course He loves Africa. He has not forgotten about them. I have seen more life and joy in the eyes of starving children here than in many chubby, content and complacent Christians in the states. (and yes, unfortunately I have fallen into that category many a times)
I think one of life's great ironies is this: Those with little in this world, who've experienced much suffering and poverty, seem to have every reason to doubt God and be angry with Him. Yet these same people seem to trust God more than any others. They rely on Him more and are filled with His peace and joy. Then there are those, like myself, who have everything they need, are showered with blessings from above and have every reason to praise God constantly. Yet these people seem to be the complainers and the doubters. Doubting God because He lets the latter group suffer. This group does not rely on God, but on their own strength and thus, misses out on the joys of watching God provide.

I imagine God must have laughed when I questioned Him so constantly because of Africa. He was here all along, I just couldn't see Him. I think this is part of the reason God called me to Mozambique: to SHOW me His answer. I've read plenty of apologetics books explaining theories as to why God would let suffering happen but apparently, just reading it was not enough, God knew that I needed to experience it, to feel it, to see the poverity firsthand and see how these people turned to Jesus and praise Him in the midst of it all. I often don't understand why God works the way He does, but I know this: God is in the villages in Africa, bringing peace and joy and hope for a future that may not come until after death, but hope nonetheless. He is far greater than I ever imagined.

My Martha

Some people having been asking me what I've been eating while in Mozambique and I would love to say that I am a suffering missionary, scraping by on only liver and fried bees. (They don't actually eat those here so I don't know why I chose fried bees, the staple is rice and beans.) However, I am far from suffering while sharing a house with a Brazilian Martha. (Oh yes, I'm referring to the ex-con, not Mary's sister although I bet she was pretty good in the kitchen too.) Madalena is an extraordinary cook and has so far baked a cake, bread, and scones all from scratch! She offered me some juice the other day and when I went in the kitchen looking for the Sunny-D (I used to love that stuff), there was Madalena chopping and squeezing fresh fruits to make her own juice. Who does that? My Martha does. Needless to say, I am immensly blessed and though I was hoping to drop a few while living in Africa, it looks like you may have to role me off the plane. (once again, is it role or roll? Seriously, if anyone knows the answer, please let me know.) I commented to another missionary how I'll have to be rolled off the plane (I know, I totally recycle jokes, you're on to me), he laughed and said, "Yeah, it would look kinda strange if you come back from a country with such immense poverty and starvation and you are chubbier than when you first came." Ouch. You know when you're a kid and you couldn't finish your meal and your parents would tell you about the starving kids in Africa? And I'm sure most of us said or thought at one time, "Well, if I was actually in Africa, I'd give them my nasty meatloaf (sorry mom, not just your meatloaf, you know I hate all kinds) but I can't exactly mail it to them." Ok, maybe I was the only bratty kid who thought that way...anyways, now I'm here and have no excuse so I am not wasting any food:) As a warning, I may look like Violet from Charlie and the Chocoloate Factory (post-blueberry). I feel bad when Mada and I cook dinner together because that actually consists of Mada cooking and me watching and asking questions. She tries to give me simple tasks but if you've seen me in the kitchen, you know how clueless I can be. I once bought cabbage instead of lettuce and commented that the lettuce tasted, "rubbery." I also nearly burned down Rowland High School when I put tinfoil in the microwave. (They never let me forget that one) So basically, I'm Amelia Badelia when it comes to cooking, actually, when it comes to many things- I always felt bad for her because I understood her way of thinking while everyone else thought she was nuts. Well hopefully by the time I return to the states, I'll be able to microwave things and maybe try some basic cooking.

I did not intend for this entry to focus so much on cooking. Once I start typing, it's like my fingers have a mind of their own. Ok, so I ran again today and decided these are some of my favorite parts of being here so far. Being the introvert that I am, I love being alone and in God's creation, while being able to be a part of the local community. So, some things I observed today:

* 12 young boys doing cartwheels in a circle. Don't even know what to say about that. When I passed them a second time, there was an instructor and they were either doing dance moves or excercises. Seeing as I couldn't tell the difference, shows you how much I know about dance moves.

* " The world is our toilet" seems to be the motto of the locals. I passed a wealthy woman who got out of her 4-runner, looked right at me and squatted by her car. The dark side of me wanted to let Gizmo run close to her and watch her reaction but I listened to the angel instead.

* I would never make it in the CIA. I brought my headphones with me this time but was still fearful that even with Gizmo, someone might try to steal them and my ipod. Thus, I imitated my students and put only one headphone in in the ear furthest away from people. (this didn't fool me so I don't know why I thought this would fool potential thieves, but I did) The problem is, apparently I have waxy ears because they kept falling out and I brought more attention to myself having to constantly putting something in my ear.

* Falling down the stairs is univerally funny, so I thought. There is one point in the run where we have to go down a flight of stairs to get to the sand and Gizmo tends to bound down these stairs super fast and today I tried to match his speed but then he came to dead stop at the bottom and I tumbled right over my little horse into the sand. I had myself a good laugh and when I looked up an older man just glared at me. Perhaps he was tyring to be polite by not laughing. I tend to go the opposite way and point and laugh at strangers when they fall.

*Lastly, my favorite observation from today was as I passed by the "praying jetty." On the run there are 2 jettys and in the mornings, many Christians walk out on the jetty and pray or sing aloud. Without any inhibitions, many people lift their arms high in the air and belt out worship songs. (the only word I could decipher yet was "Halleluiah.") I love passing by these people but they never look too pleased to see me coming close (remember the drooling, giant dog that is with me.) Madalena laughed one time when I let Gizmo get too close to a praying girl who screamed and she said, "Oh, this will help her increase her faith." Anyways, today I passed a man who was praying with his eyes open (apparently he took a lesson from Westmont's chaplain or he heard me and Gizmo as we bounded towards him) and right as we passed him, he said, "Good morning Jesus." Yes, at first I thought he was mistaking me for Jesus because he was looking right at me as he said it. I know I have brown hair now but I didn't think I really resembled Jesus in any other way. I smiled to myself as I continued running and was convicted by his prayer. I wish I woke up every morning with Jesus right on my mind. Maybe one day I will. It makes me think about what I read recently from Thomas Kelly's "Excerpts from a Testament of Devotion." In talking about an "inner sanctuary" he writes the following:

"Meister Eckhart wrote, "As thou art in church or cell, that same frame of mind carry out into the world; into its turmoils and fitfulness.' Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the sould, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return. Eternity is at our hearts, pressing upon our time-torn lives, warming us with intimations of an astounding destiny, calling us home unto Itself...

The basic response of the soul to the Light is internal adoration and joy, thanksgiving and worship, self-surrender and listening. The secret places of the heart cease to be our noisy workshop. They become a holy sanctuary of adoration and self-oblation, where we are kept in perfect peace if our minds be stayed on Him who has found us in the inward springs of our life....

What here is urged are secret habits of unceasing orientation of the deeps of our being about the Inward Light, ways of conduction our inward life so that we are perpetually bowed in worship while we are also very busy in the world of daily affairs...He who is within us urges, by secret persuasion, to such an amazing Inward Life with him, so that, firmly cleaving to him, we always look out upon all the world through the sheen of the Inward Light, and react toward men spontaneously and joyously from this Inward Center...

How, then, shall we lay hold of that Life and Power and live the life of prayer without ceasing? By quiet, persistent practice in turning all of our being, day and night , in prayer and inward worship and surrender, toward him who calls in the deeps of our souls...

Walk and talk and work and laugh with your friends. But behind the scenses, keep up the life of simple prayer and inward worship. Let inward prayer be your last act before you fall asleep and the first act when you awake."

So I try to fall asleep each night with Jesus as my last thought and wake up saying, "Good morning Jesus." We'll see how it goes.

Walking a T-Rex

To relieve stress some people take a hot bath or listen to soothing music but me, I prefer to run. (well that and pick zits which truly is a stress-reliever, I know I know, too much information) So it was a huge relief when I learned that I would be able to run in Mozambique and today I went for my first run by myself. Let me preface the story by pasting a portion of an e-mail I received today from the US embassy:


As many of you know, crime in the Maputo and Matola areas has increased significantly. There has been a surge in violent crimes such as carjackings, bank robberies, armed assaults at ATMs, home invasions, and robberies of commercial stores. Violent crime has occurred in many areas of the city and at various times of the day and night. Some of the areas affected include multiple locations along the Marginal, the baixa, Julius Nyerere, Alto Maé, communities along the outskirts of Maputo, and in Matola. Additionally, violent criminal activity has increased in the Sommerschield area. Many of these incidents involve criminals armed with automatic weapons. Although no area of the city is designated off-limits to U.S. government employees, everyone is strongly encouraged to maintain a high level of security awareness and follow good security practices.

Don't freak out mom, I have a point. Well, my running route is along the Marginal and I cross over Julius Nyerere. I know some of you must have been praying for my safety though and God has answered those prayers in the form of Gizmo. Gizmo is this giant razorback dog who belongs to our Swedish neighbor but guards both of our houses and is currently sleeping in our house while Henrik is gone. I already love this dog. (Don't worry Swish, he could never replace you.) So I went running with Gizmo and quickly realized that Mozambicans are TERRIFIED of dogs and especially a giant razorback. (doesn't that breed just sound mean?) I really felt like I was jogging with a t-rex on the leash based on the reactions of the people I passed. (I know some of you are thinking of stereotypes in America right now. I'd call you racist but I thought of them too) Well one time I forgot to pull the leash close as we passed by a girl and she literally screamed and jumped back when Gizmo tried to sniff her hand. I know I'm twisted because I just found it hilarious to see these people so terrified of me and my little Gizmo- I thought I was supposed to be the one afraid. Towards the end of the run, Gizmo had saliva all around his mouth which of course made it look like he had rabies so I don't blame the people for being so afraid. When we crossed paths with women, I would pull Gizmo close but when we passed men who looked somewhat suspicious, I would let Gizmo get close enough to them until I saw the fear in their eyes before I pulled him back. I really worry about myself sometimes. When I walked Gizmo with Madalena, she said not to tell people that he didn't bite, better to keep them guessing.

I fear that Gizmo wasn't in the best of shape and he needed some time to recover as seen in the picture but suddenly he loves me- which is great except he keeps trying to lay on my bed. A few minutes ago he nearly tore down my mosquito net when he tried to jump on the bed. Being the dog-lover that I am, I confess that I am tempted to let him sleep on the bed with me but something about sharing a bed with a dog in Africa just seems wrong. I mean, the other little white dog, Lupito already peed on my mattress and I don't really want to get a tick or something. (My roommate in college had a tick once and although i secretly found it hilarious because I told her I thought it was just a mole, she was quite traumatized by the whole fiasco.)I'm not a huge fan of this little yapping Lupito but it sure likes me. I do my devotions out in the front yard sitting on a stool and Lupito always jumps up onto my lap. That would be OK but she/he (haven't checked yet) is dirty and Gizmo gets jealous and comes over and bites Lupito's neck and they start fighting right in my lap. Not cool. Here is a picture of our two mighty guard dogs in front of our house.

I know you must think I'm obsessed with dogs now because I took so many pictures of them. Well the thing is, I know many of you have ADD and need pictures to stay interested but it is tricky taking pictures. I tried to take one of the city out of the car window and was quickly told to bring my arm back in. Apparently I was sending out an invitation to car-jackers. Whoops. I will have to channel my detective skills and sneak pictures of the city for you later. In the mean time, you can look at dog pictures:) Gee, I hope I don't become one of those women who has like 14 dogs and 12 cats. If I do, you have permission to set me up on a date.

Ok, back to the running story. Most of the run was on the beach and the scenery was remarkable! I'll have to take pictures one day to document this amazing running route I have. It was like I was running in paradise, minus the occasional fish head I had to jump over. I'm hesitant to send pictures because you might grow resentful if you are supporting me financially and see where I get to live:) It was an incredible answer to yet another prayer. It may be silly to pray for running routes, but I've prayed for stranger things and He seems to care about these little things as well as the big ones. I know I may get stressed this year, but I have a wonderful way to relieve it. (and no, I'm not just referring to picking all my zits)

This afternoon God answered another prayer when I got to go to CAM, the school I'll be teaching at. (Christian Academy in Mozambique) The school is larger than I imagined and in the middle of the city. There are 5 classrooms upstairs and the grades are divided in the following ways: 3rd and 4Th are together, 5Th and 6Th, 7Th and 8Th, 9Th and 10, and 11Th and 12Th. So the kids stay in their classroom and the teachers roam. The school has a library and teachers lounge where the teachers meet to pray for the students each day- I love that! I went to the school with the Miller family because they were having a parents meeting to discuss school dates. I think I was expected to sit in the meeting with the adults but instead I snuck out with Kimberly to play with the kids. To answer your question, I am 25 years old. Well this turned out to be yet another answer to prayer. I was worried that the kids at the school wouldn't like me. I thought that fear would go away after high school but those dang insecurities seem to keep popping up. Anyways, the kids were all shooting baskets so I smothered my awkwardness and insecurities and introduced them to the game of "lightning." I had instant supporters. Praise Jesus for basketball. I don't think I would have any friends if I couldn't play this sport. We then played a half court pick up game although I was wearing jeans and sandals. (Yes, I was the awkward kid at basketball camp who didn't come dressed prepared and now have bruised heels. I didn't know one could acquire bruises here, but you can and I am reminded of that every step I take. I could have probably avoided the bruises by going easy, but of course I had to be in my defensive stance and trying to block as many young boys as possible.) Pretty soon I had some sweet back sweat but so much fun. All of the kids who played will be my students so it was fun that we have a connection already. Sorry for the lack of pictures. I was again trying to convince people that I am cool and thus did not pull out my camera.

OK, speaking of classes, I have a HUGE prayer request in this area. Let me explain. So a few months ago when I was trying to sell myself to CAM (did I just sound like a prostitute- I didn't mean to) I told the director that I could teach history and English if they needed it. Why? Why would I offer to English? Sure I like to read but my grammar's not that great and I always pitied the English teachers having to do so much work. Well of course the director took me up on my offer and here are the classes I will be teaching:

7Th and 8Th graders- World History. OK, I'm cool with that- that's my area of expertise if you will since I've taught it the last 3 years. Junior highers should be interesting. I can't wait to observe their awkwardness in that stage. I never fully grew out of it but I stopped wearing flannel shirts.

7Th and 8Th graders- English. Um...OK, I'll struggle with an English class but I'll figure it out. Oh wait, I have to teach grammar? This is not good news. You may have noticed in reading this blog, but I have yet to master the "comma." Just where do you put this little booger, or should I say, "thorn?" Yes- that would be in reference to it being the thorn in my side. Hopefully you will notice a gradual improvement in my grammar skills throughout this year.

9Th and 10Th graders- World Geography. Oh crap. Pardon my French. Why do people say that by the way? Crap isn't a french word. The reason I use that word though is because many of you know that geography is my "Achilles heel." Oh look at that, I made a literature reference- maybe this English class won't be so hard. I took one geography class in college but had a crush on the boy behind me and needless to say, was not very focused. Jonathan Miller had to help me with my homework all the time because for instance, I thought the UK and Great Britain were two different places. The Hardemans are known for playing the game, "city or state?" Yeah, so it goes like this, "Ohio. City or state." and yes, we get a lot of them wrong. Don't judge us. I can feel your sense of intellectual superiority right now. So basically, teaching geography should be interesting to say the least.

9Th and 10Th grade- English. Another one. Hmmmmmm...I think you misunderstood what I meant when I offered to teach "A" English class. I know, OK, "an" English class. I thought I could teach 1 class, not two. hmmmmmm. This will be my largest class with a whopping 12 students. I already know 3 of the girls and they are super sweet. I wonder what they'll call me...they called me Katie today because obviously I don't go around introducing myself as "Miss Hardeman" so will they call me Katie in class? Another awkward question I have to ask someone.

11Th and 12Th grade- US History. Sweet. I'm totally comfortable with this. There are 4 kids in this class and none of them are American. I love it.

11th and 12th grade- English. I really thought the director was joking when she started giving me books for this class too. 6 separate classes to prepare for....this will be interesting. Last year I wrote all my own test questions, homework questions and even re-wrote most of the text book chapters. I tell you this not to boast, but to illustrate how anal I can be when it comes to teaching. I had one class to prepare for last year so I had the time and I am going to need to quickly adopt my dad's "laissez-faire" attitude about lesson planning. (be honest, do you know what laissez-faire means?) My point is this, I need prayer! Prayer that I would have an abundance of energy to make each class interesting but also prayer that I could let go of my need to be so controlling.

Another large prayer request is for Mr. Meyers. He is the man that is supposed to come be the director of the school for this coming year but he was recently diagnosed with colon cancer. He is going in for treatment fairly soon. CAM would be desperate without him. If he is unable to make it here, we really need another director for the school. Could you please pray that God would work out this situation?

Also, the school is in desperate need of teachers! Obviously we're short teachers seeing as I will be teaching 6 classes. Could you please pray that the great miracle-worker would work another one out and provide teachers for our school. We start classes on August 20 so I realize the notice is a bit late but God split the Red Sea so surely He can do this. I know what some of you are plotting right now..."I'll pray for a cute, young, male teacher to join Katie at CAM." I'm on to your schemes Kristen Debie:)

Do you remember watching old sit-coms like Full House when at the end of the episode they would cue the cheesy music and teach a lesson? Well I feel like I have a tendency to end my entries with some sort of "God insight." I don't do this purposefully, it just follows the flow of my thinking. So please don't accuse me of being like Danny Tanner. But today's passage in "Experiencing God" was so applicable to the types of different prayer requests and answered prayers that I have.

"Knowing God"

Exodus 6: 2-3 And God spoke to Moses and said to him, "I am the lord. I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, as God Almighty, but by My name Lord I was not known to them."

"As God has walked with His people through the generations, He has progressively revealed His nature according to His purposes and the needs of His people. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob knew Him as God Almighty, because they needed His mighty power to protect them from their enemies. Moses and the Israelites learned that God was Lord, Master over every nation and every thing. God not only delivered them from the most powerful ruler in the world, but also brought them into the Promised Land. They came to experience Him as Lord, preeminently powerful over the pagan gods of their day.

God will continue to reveal His character to you according to your needs and according to His purposes. You will come to know more and more about Him as you obey Him. When you grieve, He will come to you as Comforter. When you are in need, He will demonstrate that He is the Provider. When you face a serious challenge, He will reveal that He is God Almighty.

Your understanding of God's character ought to be greater now than when you first became a Christian. You ought to know Him today better than you did five years ago. Sadly, some Christians continue to live year after year with the same basic knowledge of God that they had when they first began walking with Him. Whatever your present situation, view it in the light of what God is teaching you, through circumstances, about Himself and you will come to know God in dimensions you have never known Him before."

God has truly been a magnificent provider for me here in Mozambique and I pray that He will provide more help for CAM. I pray that he would be the Healer of Mr. Meyers. I pray that He would also be my protector. I read yesterday Proverbs 18:10 "The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe." The image that immediately came to mind was a scene from the movie, The Saint. Remember this one, with Val Kilmer and all this disguises? Well at the end they are sprinting to the US embassy while being chased. They barely make into the gates and were safe. Now I picture myself, not with Val however, sprinting to Jesus when I am scared and need safety. He is much more powerful than the US embassy. Now don't worry, I won't be foolish here when it comes to safety, but I have an amazing Protector on my side, stronger than any guard dog I could hire. To show you how safe I am in my home though, watch this video of Lupito and Gizmo saying hi to the neighbors. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ml53HvLHxAI