Jon Archive | jon and layne heller

Floods

<<Download Our New Year’s Newsletter Here>>

A Jon Post

Well, this week wasn’t really going to be a “blog” week so much as just a link to the newsletter we wrote for everyone. Instead, we had something happen on Saturday that we felt we should share with you all.
Saturday, very early in the morning, it started raining very hard. It kept it up and at about 6 Layne got out of bed and went down and saw that the water was rising pretty steadily. She woke me up and I did what I could to try to hold back the might flow of the torrent. I began bailing out our driveway but simply could not keep ahead of the waterfall that was coming from our roof. We moved what we could in the house, stuffed plastic bags under the doors and prayed the rain would stop.
It didn’t.
3 hours later our house had an inch of water in it.
I spent the next 4 hours bailing water into our road (surrounded by neighbors doing the same thing) trying to lower the water level in our yard so that the water would run back out of our house. After a while it finally started rolling out and Layne gave it a helpful shove with a squeegee we went out and bought. Because it looked like the rain could start back up at any moment I kept up the bilging process and Layne dried most of the house out.
Our wood floor has taken the most damage. As you can see in these pictures it’s in a lot of trouble. The water got under and into the wooden slats and they swelled up so that they don’t fit together anymore. We will probably have to redo the floors.
Such is life.
We honestly don’t deserve a dry, waterproof house so we’re not complaining.
The house is mostly dry and we’re fine. Anything that would have been critical in the water was upstairs and our roof sheds water very well.

: The Damage

: In our Living Room

: Moving Water

: Waves in the house

: 3 hours later… still bailing

: Trying to keep up

Anyway, we did finish our newsletter. Please download it here and read it when you have the time. I know you may have just taken up your “read Jon and Layne’s stuff” time by reading this blog but please do read this newsletter when you get the chance. We’ve spoken of our time at the hospital and our plans (including a delay) for our “Casa Ahava” project in our home.

We are so blessed by you, your prayers, your support, your emails, your comments here even. We’re blessed to have a family who loves us across the world.

January 17, 2011

Jon

Around the house, Newsletter

4 comments

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 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!

January 3, 2011

Jon

Angola, Hospital Ministry, JonandLayne.com, Mozambique, Travel

4 comments

Merry Christmas

A Jon Post

I know it’s “that time of year” again. To be honest, I haven’t felt it so much. I don’t want this to be one of those depressing or move-everyone-to-pity-the-poor-African posts or anything… I just want to ask you all to pray with me.
This is my prayer.

O come… O come… Immanuel.

That’s a Christmas song and I find myself praying it often recently.

…From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o’er the grave…

…Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death’s dark shadows put to flight…

…And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery…

Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

I sat with my wife with a man who just had surgery on his tumor and who lay in agony in the recovery room hundreds of miles from his family. He looked into my eyes and said “Thank you so much for visiting me. Yesterday, I saw some people in here who had family visiting them and I just looked at my empty corner of the room and cried. I knew I had no one to visit me. But you… you are my family. You came to visit me. Thank you.”

O come… O come…
Immanuel

My wife knelt next to a girl who shares her age. She is dying. She has no family except a sister who is very poor and cannot come to visit her. She cannot sit up by herself so whenever Layne comes her contagious smile lights up the room because Layne is the only one who will put her arms around her and help her sit up, if only for an hour.

O come… O come…
Immanuel

I often hold a specific little boy in my arms. He does his best to look healthy and strong but he limps, ever so slightly as he walks. He has deep black marks on his legs and his little body has wasted away from repeated yet futile chemotherapy treatments for his Sarcoma. He’s got one chemotherapy treatment left and then the doctors will send him home. They’ll send him home to die.

O come… O come…
Immanuel

See, there’s a beauty in all of this. All of these stories have a beauty. It’s told in the end of that song.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Immanuel will come. He will come. I know it’s trite and easy to say but when we live here in a reality that is so encompassed in pain, this is our hope.
Immanuel will come.
So yes, to me, to my wife, this is a very merry Christmas. It’s a merry Christmas because we know… we know that we can follow the plea of the title of that song
O come… O come… Immanuel
With the action at the end
Rejoice! Rejoice!

Merry, Merry, Merry Christmas.

Merrry Christmas From the Hellers

December 19, 2010

Jon

Hospital Ministry, Mozambique

5 comments

What It’s Like

A Jon Post

I asked Javan today what he thinks of our lives here in Maputo. I am always little anxious to hear thoughts and get reactions to how my wife and I live our lives. Maybe there’s something in me looking for the validation that we’re doing something right. Maybe there’s something in me looking for a fellow American to tell me that life is pretty challenging here and all the effort I put into just living is worth it.

Maybe it’s all a reflection in my heart of a deeper desire.

Maybe… I just want to rest a weary head on my Father’s shoulder and here a soft “Well done, good and faithful servant. Come and share your Master’s happiness!” (Matthew 25:23). I really, really want to share my Master’s happiness.

Javan got the opportunity to share from the Bible at a men’s Bible study that I lead on a weekly basis at the hospital with some men who live there as patients. He spoke of perfect and complete joy. I think that scene in Matthew, where the Master says “Well done, come and share in my happiness” is one that describes what I think perfect and complete joy is.

Maybe that’s what it’s like.

I see so much that is broken and incomplete all around me. I see a broken joy in the patient Jonathan at the hospital (he and I smiled and spoke at length at how happy we were to share a name), whose tumor above his right shoulder looms over him like a death sentence. I see incomplete joy in David, a soft-spoken man whose chemo-therapy treatments sap every bit of strength he has, to where his shell of a body simply breathes and waits for it to pass.

Maybe Jonathan, David and countless others here and scattered throughout the world are all just waiting for that moment.

We’re waiting for our Master to invite us to share in His happiness.

Maybe that’s what it’s like.

So Javan, try as he might to share what he sees in our lives here in Maputo, didn’t fulfill that longing in me. That longing that I have for the Master to smile… look into my eyes and say… “Well done. Come and share my happiness!”

Perfect… Complete… Joy

I think that’s what it’s like.

December 4, 2010

Jon

Hospital Ministry, Mozambique, Personal

7 comments

How Fast it Changes

A Jon Post

Javan came in last night. What a joy and a privilege to have our good friend and brother join us here, be a part of our ministry, see our lives and share our Thanksgiving day this week. I went to the airport last night to pick him up. I was pretty giddy with anticipation. He is our first visitor and has been my best friend for many years. I really cannot express how much joy I had in my heart last night as I anticipated Javan joining me in my life, even for just the few days he’s here.

We took him to the Oncology ward with us today. Smiles, hugs, children and friends running around, eager to meet our good friend and try out any English phrase they may know.

And then it all changed.

Marcelino… dear, precious, 13-year-old Marcelino… is dying.

Last Friday, he was walking around, laughing, enjoying a new ultrasound image of Anaya, and all around getting better. Today was much different. Today he lay in a dirty hospital bed, deliriously moaning and holding the side of his head in tremendous pain. Today he could not muster the strength to get out of bed to go to the bathroom. Today… Marcelino’s weary body teeters upon the cusp of eternity. The pain in his body is the last thread that holds him to it.

This morning, I laughed, I praised God, I thanked Him for His blessings in my life.

This afternoon, I cried, I praised God, I thanked Him for Marcelino… and asked Him to take my friend quickly.

How fast it changes here. How quickly the joy of life is tempered by the sting and victory of the grave.

How fast it changes.

November 22, 2010

Jon

Hospital Ministry

6 comments