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Category: Angola

Plans, ideas, hopes, dreams for Angola

Little Victories and Miracles of 2010

A Jon Post

Welcome to 2011. Sorry this post didn’t make it up on the weekend. Hopefully our loyal readership doesn’t abandon us for our lateness.
So 2010, huh? What a year! And 2011? Lots coming our way I think!
In 2010 we moved into Mozambique with bright eyes, hopeful hearts and a lot of determination. We wanted to see the Kingdom of God brought here to Maputo and to the hospital. We set our hearts on being a hand to hold in last days, and being a smiling face in painful ones.
In 2010 our daughter started her journey into our lives.
There were a lot of bold, fearless moments, many successes.
And there were failures, broken hearts, breathless lungs, and tear-streaked faces.
In 2010 we’ve learned to find and see the Lord in the little victories and miracles along the way.

(January) Layne’s time with Emilia right up until and through her passing.

(January) My time with Joaquim, the first good friend I made here who died in the hospital.

(January-June) God’s providence in moving us to Angola, then His peace and voice in our move back to Mozambique.

(June) Our daughter.

(July) Reading the Bible with José Manuel the day before his death

(July) Sharing Christ with many by bringing the World Cup to the big screen in small villages

(August) Precious Sandra, being able to be with her daughter in northern Mozambique in her last days instead of a hospital bed.

(October) Dear friend Sabu, going home to his family.

(November) 13-year-old Marcelino who loved our daughter so much, prayed for her, asked how she was every time he saw us. Even up until the day he died.

(December) A hug from Tomé and a kiss from Lúcia

A Kiss from Lúcia

A Kiss from Lúcia

A Huge from Tomé

A Hug from Tomé

These are just a few of the little victories and miracles we’ve seen this year. They have often been surrounded by pain, but that’s our ministry.
We kinda like it.
Happy New Year!

6 Months in Africa

A Layne Post

On Friday this week, it will have been 6 months since we left the United States. And what a whirlwind it has been! We have stayed in 5 different countries for weeks to months at a time. (Two week minimum) We have loved deeply and lost tragically; and all of it has opened our hearts to know Jesus more and more.

He is beautiful and terribly mysterious.

Tonight we were chatting with new friends, explaining how we plan to live in Africa for the rest of lives, or at least as far as we can see in the future. It really feels like home; we are so comfortable here. Every now and then I try to imagine us back in States, living life… and I can’t. We belong here; God placed this place, this continent, in the core of our beings. We are captured. I believe the Lord knew this before we were knitted in our mother’s wombs.

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While in Angola we visited the hospital one day. We were supposed to visit a sick young girl, the daughter of the missionaries’ friends; however, when we arrived she had been taken into an emergency operation and was not doing well. The doctor kept telling us it was bad, very bad. Minutes after being there, the father was taken aside and told his thirteen year old daughter had died of appendicitis.

Wobbling he came of the room in a state of shock. After a few helpless sobs, he knew he had to find his wife, her mother. She had just gone to the river to wash some clothes, a simple task, one she does everyday. But today was not ‘everyday’. I knew she would never be able to forget this day. He went to find her with the little strength and sanity that he had.

I wanted to hide; I shouldn’t have been there. This was private, and I was a stranger, an intruder. I tried to blend into the wall.

The body, so small and petite, so young, was wrapped in sheet and taken on a stretcher into the chapel. I heard the wailing coming in the distance. My previous detachment suddenly began to crumble, as I was drawn in. I slipped behind a pillar.

Her mother, physically supported by the shoulders of her husband, came wailing, thrashing, and singing out the name of her dead daughter. It was haunting. Other women joined in the wailing, almost in dancing movements around the body. It was raw grief, eerily beautiful and confident.

As I stood outside, behind my pillar, sobs welled up for the loss this family was experiencing. This life here; loss is common, closer it seems.

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Sitting on the front steps of the hospital in Menongue I thought of my friends at the hospital in Maputo, and I longed to be with them, to be the arms of Christ once again to the sick and dying, to people I knew and who knew me.

The Lord knows what will satisfy us more than we could ever muster up. Six months ago when we left the United States, we would have never imagined our new found passion, but our mysterious Lord in His beautiful ways knew.

I cannot wait to see what else He has in mind.

Thanks for your continued love and support. We think about and pray you, individually; we love you so much. We have no new health news for now, though I haven’t been sick this week. Praise God!

Short hair for me; 6 months of beard for Jon

Sickness and Leaving

Layne with two young girls she's been discipling

Layne with two young girls she's been discipling

Hello blogites,

Well… We’ve got some news. There are quite a few things happening in our near future and now’s the time to share it with you.

The first thing you should all know is that Layne is sick. About three weeks ago she woke up in the middle of the night with intense stomach pain and spent the rest of the night and morning in agonizing pain. We thought it might be a passing thing, prayed, hoped it wouldn’t happen again and waited. One and a half weeks later it happened again. We got a little worried, prayed, thought it might be a food she ate, and waited.
Six days later, two nights ago, it happened again, and it was worse. All night we stayed up, all night I prayed over my suffering wife, all night she waited for the knifelike pain to subside. It was anguish.
We have decided to seek medical help. Because the medical world in Angola is still recovering from the war, we are not confident that she can be helped here in Angola.
Tuesday morning we are driving to Namibia. Namibia has excellent healthcare and we are sure she can be diagnosed properly and treated. Please pray with us that it is smooth and quick.

The second thing you all should know is that we will not be returning to Angola in the near future. Despite the fact that we have felt for so long that God was moving on our hearts to come to Angola long-term, that has changed. Maybe God meant this short time was what He wanted. Maybe He means later in the future.
As we have been praying and seeking the Lord’s wisdom and direction for our future, we have taken the opportunity to look back at the things we felt the Lord initially put on our hearts since the beginning of our journey back to Africa, as well as the things He has pressed on our hearts since. After reviewing those things, and then feeling the peaceful and good moving hand of the Lord in our prayers, we have come to a decision.
For now we don’t know what/if our future is in Angola.
What we do know is that God has moved in us to go back to Mozambique.
Our time in Mozambique made a huge impact in our lives. We made fast friends with fellow missionaries that we respect and love, and we ministered alongside them in various ways and we are sure that God has said to go there and plant roots. We may uproot someday but for now, we have a peace from the Lord that He is putting us there to minister and love people well.

Friends, family… I know we ask often, and I know it gets repetitious… pray for us.

My Beautiful Wife

My Beautiful Wife

Pray for my wife… my beautiful… lovely… incredibly giving… passionate wife. Pray she is healed. She is sick and I can barely stand it. I love her so… Join me in prayer over her health.
Join us in this new vision. We will share more soon about what our heart is in Mozambique and how we are transitioning into ministry there.
Pray with us dear friends.
Have faith with us dear family.
These mountains don’t stand a chance. (Matthew 17:21)

Jon and Layne

Unforgettable Communion

This past Thursday night Jon and I were provided the opportunity to have dinner with a local Angolan family. They wanted to cook for us a traditional meal, and then following it we would start the Easter weekend by sharing communion together.

On our way there we noticed dark clouds in the distance, not all too uncommon these days as it seems to rain regularly. In our minds we worried a bit, knowing that we would be eating outside since their stick homes are not really set up for indoor fellowship.

Upon arrival we saw a beautiful covered shelter, complete with a lovely cloth back wall, a plastic table covered in a nice table cloth, and many chairs seated around. You must understand, the father in his late 60’s or early 70’s had made this shelter that very day specifically for our meal because he was concerned about the rain coming.

Humbling.

The daughter, Tchihinga, had worked hard to prepare their local meal for all of us. We ate a porridge called ‘funge’, which is a bit sticky, almost reminding me of a dumpling; I would cut mine with my fork. Before when I had this, I gagged, but this time I actually enjoyed it mixed with the other foods. Along with the funge, we had some leafy greens which are cut in strips and cooked with tomatoes and onions. I personally really enjoy them. For the main dish Tchihinga made chicken, which was also in a nice sauce.

We were so blessed.

As the meal was ending, the winds started to pick up and the clouds continued with their daunting presence. We decided we should take communion. After some difficulty getting our hands on some bread, Tchihinga’s father gave a small message. He spoke of the Passover and while some of the message was lost in translation (he does not speak Portuguese, but N’Kangela, which was translated to English) his heart could not be mistaken.

This passionate old Angolan man, complete with his big black glasses, needing to practically shout over the wind, which threatened to tear his hand built shelter down… this man, he loved Jesus, and he wanted to remember what He had done. And he chose to do that with us.

Unforgettable.

Tonight we took communion again, and it had such meaning. Christ’s death and His resurrection are hope for me. It means that I am able, through the precious blood that was spilt by my Savior, to enter into the next life miraculously pure and spotless, dressed in white and ready for my groom. I can have hope that this present world is not my home; it is not the end. These present afflictions are but momentary.

Hosanna.

Courage, Pharisees, My Friend and My Bride

A Jon Post

I spent much of today thinking about what I wanted to post. I decided I’d just post a few things I’ve felt and written down recently. I’ve felt a little discouraged lately and I know missionaries are supposed to be perfect and awesome and not have any problems but this week I guess I wasn’t the great missionary that most people seem to think I usually am. Here are a few thoughts from the week. Feel free to read one at a time and come back to the others later. I’ve been loving the depth of the Hebrew language as I study the Bible lately and as a result I debated about it in my head for a bit tonight and decided to put the word “Selah” after each thought. No I don’t think I’m some kind of psalmist I just really like the meaning and depth of that word. After unloading a passionate thought when I put “Selah” after it I just feel like it caps it and proclaims that peace that is so present after expressing deep things. So there it is. Read on. This is what my life is like here some times.

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What does it take to find courage? I found it tonight in just singing a song of desperation. I sang and sang and sang and found courage in a thankful heart. I know it sounds cliché but it’s true. I found that lifeblood rhythm that God planted in everything while I was just singing a “thank you” to my Christ for His blood.

Selah

Pharisees… What a show… Men more interested in tithes and recognition than service. A man more interested in screaming his “sermon” than the truth of the Word of God. How did the Gospel get hijacked by these fools? How did the most beautiful, most honest, most caring, most loving, most gracious, most free, gentle Gospel get turned into a two hour pitch for a “donation” and a magic prayer that heals everything?
A day is coming… a day when these men… these men whom God has commanded to be the chief servants in the church, to live in abject SLAVERY to the body of Christ… these men who live as if the whole reason for the church is to bring honor, wealth, comfort, glory to THEMSELVES… these men will look for mountains to hide under to escape the wrath of a holy God.

Selah

My friend Lazaro, I really like him. I worked alongside him trying to keep up with his endless energy. His smile and laugh are pretty infectious. And he sings… oh friends he sings…
His language; N’kangela, his heart; praising his God, his African voice; lifted to heaven. It’s so natural to him. I really really like Lazaro. We joke, we work. And I’ve even gotten to study the Bible with him. He doesn’t have his own so he knows very little beyond what his pastor preaches on Sunday mornings. What an honor, to discover the Living Word of God with my friend. I really like Lazaro.

Selah

My wife
My princes, my bride. Nothing compares… nothing.
African sunsets, wind gently playing in the tall grass, rainbows of birds; bright and beautiful as they skirt the tips of the grass, a jeweled river; dazzling in its reflection of the sunrise as it cuts across the Angolan countryside…
All of this beauty… All of this… Nothing compares… Nothing.
“I have set her as a seal over my heart like a seal on my arm. For love, Ahava, love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns in me like a blazing fire, like a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quench Ahava, love.” Song of Solomon 8:6-7
My lover, my bride.

Selah