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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

Robbery and Fear

A Layne Post

Last night while eating dinner at the other missionaries’ home, our little mud hut was broken into. Jon must have spooked them because one bag was dropped outside close to the house. When he saw it he was alarmed, ran into the house and noticed his computer and computer bag were missing.

The next couple of hours were filled with Jon driving, chasing guys, and talking with the police and neighborhood chiefs. While chasing a suspected thief, Jon sprained his ankle pretty bad. Unfortunately, we have not yet recovered the computer, but we hold onto hope.

The police are keeping their eyes out at the markets, and we have put the word out in a couple neighborhoods that we will give a reward if someone brings it to us.

Even still we are reminded of the many things to be thankful for and continue to praise the Lord. We are blessed to have the privilege to own the things we do; they are blessings that can be given and taken away.

Here are some positive things about the situation:

  • There were many things that could have been taken in the house that were not
  • Many things that are normally in that bag that were not
  • We still have my computer to use
  • All of Jon’s data was backed up and no information lost

Here are a few specific ways you can pray:

  • That the computer would be recovered and returned
  • If not, that the thieves will be unable to break the passwords and access information
  • If not, that we have favor with the credit card company we bought it through and possibly be able to be reimbursed
  • Pray for Jon’s ankle to be healed quickly; it is swollen and bruised

Ironically the following is what I had written to post for this week before the events of last night. The Lord is faithful to me in so many ways.

This week the Lord has been dealing with fear in my life.

Some people may laugh, thinking a young girl who has chosen to live her life in Africa cannot possibly struggle with fear. You would be wrong though. I have even tricked myself into thinking that from time to time, but this week has shone a bright light on some big ugly fears.

I am doing Beth Moore’s study ‘Esther’, and while I had even seen this week’s video before, the Lord had new things in store for me, new things to work out.

Can I be honest? Sometimes when the Lord starts to work on a specific area, I begin to wonder if He is preparing me for something to come, maybe even soon. (That is not exactly comforting, since the topic is fear; nonetheless, I’ve pushed on and told the Lord He can continue His work.)

Beth Moore points out that solely begging and trusting God not to let horrible things happen to you is conditional trust. We must get to the point that we are able to say, “Even if the worst I can imagine happens to me, God is faithful and I trust Him.”

I knew this. I did. Sometimes I even got a hold of it. But it hadn’t rooted itself. From time to time fear would creep its ugly head into my life.

Early this week I began to hand things over to God, starting with the little things.

Recently I had been having some trouble with fear during the nights, as I could hear loud parties and drunk people very close to the house. There were nights I would lay awake hearing every noise, letting my mind take me to crazy scenarios. Going potty outside was terrifying. My heart would race, and I would literally run back inside feeling relieved no one had grabbed me along the way.

After my study, when I would go to the toilet, I would force my mind to calm down. I would say to myself, as Esther came to say, “If I perish, I perish.” (Go ahead, you can giggle at the thought of me on the toilet saying that to myself; makes me laugh too.) Maybe it was a little extreme, but it helped. I was choosing to trust God, not to keep someone from being out there, but even if someone was out there.

A couple nights later, the Lord decided to move on to another area. My husband. I want you to know that I have the best, most faithful husband ever, who loves me, cares for me, and reassures me constantly. But due to experiences in my life, to experiences in other women’s lives, I have let fear keep a little hold on my heart, completely separate from anything Jon has ever done. And it isn’t fair to him, which is why I am thankful that the Lord is ripping it out of me at this point in my life.

So there I lay, letting my mind be taken over. I knew immediately that it was Satan and that everything in my head was lies. I wondered if I should talk with Jon. Thinking it was unfair to even be thinking these things, I decided to try and battle it out myself. It got worse. I even began shaking. I made up my mind to ask Jon to pray for me, but in my pride I wanted to calm down a bit more. I began saying the name of Jesus over and over and sure enough, my soul settled.

I gathered my courage and humbly asked Jon to pray for me, confessing all this ugliness inside of me. He lovingly took me in his arms and began to pray over me.

Fear was conquered that night, though this time I needed help. Unlike the time with the toilet, I could not do this alone. I needed my husband, a fellow believer, to stand by me. Sometimes we can’t do it alone. Sometime we need each other. And it’s worth it. It is worth the humility, worth the courage. God desires that we live in freedom.

I desire to live in freedom.

It took two hours to upload this video

A Jon Post

So I live in Angola for now. I’ve started noticing differences in how I live as I move from place to place. You just start seeing things differently. I’m not talking about the big “Oh… I just appreciate things so much more now!!!” kind of ways of seeing things. Everyone likes to talk about those things and I think people aren’t as honest with themselves as they like to pretend when they say them. I really do like to eat good tasting things, I like comfortable couches, I like fast internet, I like nice clothes. Now, I’m willing to live without all of that but to try to convince everyone (including myself) that I really don’t want those things anymore is just a bit disingenuous I think.
No… I’m talking about the funny little ways you start seeing things differently.

  • Spider webs on my ceiling are very good things. They function as a natural mosquito net that catches the bugs that want to enter my house when the lights are on. “Plague” is a good word to describe what it starts to look like if you clean those spider webs out.
  • Snakes are friends around (though not in) the house. They keep the mice and rats away.
  • Soap is really an amazing thing. I can work hard hard hard all day and then run water over myself and rub myself with soap and the emotional, psychological, and physical difference is simply astonishing.
  • Cold drinks are to be savored.
  • People all over the world are really just after the same things. Culture changes how they pursue them but, in the end, we really are desperate, lonely, frightened creatures that long for love, belonging, and to be part of something greater than ourselves.

I wrote the following down earlier this week. I hope, I hope that I can learn from what happened and see Christ in a person sooner than I did in this story.

A man came early this morning. I wasn’t here and I was told he was belligerent, demanding, and even threatening. Being the only male on the property I gathered myself up for a fight and was ready in case he returned. Suddenly a shout came that he was returning. I puffed out my chest, spoke to myself of my strength and walked out to meet him before he could get all the way to the house.
“Good afternoon sir. How are you today?” I ask, trying to slow him down if, indeed, he is on some kind of warpath. I had been told he disagreed with this ministry’s ownership of the land and was ready to fight for a piece of it.

“Good afternoon,” came the reply, “My name is Isaac and I am the son of…” and he began listing his genealogy and where his father, grandfather, uncles, great-uncles are/were/have lived and why they have a right to be where they are. Placing himself in a long, great list of men who are proud to be a part of the land and the country of Angola.
I prepared myself to answer his dispute of the land, but as I listened… I realized my pre-conceived ideas of what he wanted were wrong. He began to tell me of how he is in the military and stationed far from here and before he left he built a small house just OFF of this ministry’s land. Leaving for a few years he has returned just for a week to see family and has found his house destroyed.
“Why” he pleads “have you destroyed my house when I saw your fence, I had permission from the state and I built on my OWN property?”
I am overwhelmed. Seeing from his point of view I nearly begin to weep for him.
”My friend Isaac,” I respond, “I hear you. I am so sorry. If I knew who had destroyed your house I would help you. I too am angry at what has happened. You are right, you are not on our property. If this had happened to me, I too would be angry and seeking to find out why it had happened. I am angry with you my friend. I see you well.”
“Jonathan my friend,” Isaac looked at me with sorrow, “I too am sorry. When I came earlier I thought people were telling me that I had no right to this land. I am sorry that I blamed you for this. I see that we have no problem with each other. My name is Isaac. I live just there,” he says pointing, “and you may ask me for anything you need in that neighborhood.”
“My name is Jonathan. Thank you for speaking with me today.”
A man came today. He looked ready to fight, but he simply wanted to be heard. He simply wanted to be loved.

Here was Christ. Here was a stranger that I am glad I was able to invite in and welcome and love (Matthew 25:35).

[flashvideo file=/blogpictures/house.flv /]

Layne took this short video and gives a brief tour of our house. I heard that there was some interest in seeing the inside of it so here you all go.

We love you all. Thanks for reading this long post.

It’s about time!

A Layne Post

Me here in Menongue

Me here in Menongue

It is hard for me to believe we have only been here two weeks. I feel like I have much to tell you!

We have had to adjust to “life” here, but I feel like we have gotten a good routine down, which makes things easier. Funny how things become “normal” in such a short amount of time.

Our House

Our House

We are living in a small 3 ½ room mud house with a tin roof. Upon arrival we had to clean out the rat poo, cobwebs, and dust. Honestly, I have not felt motivated enough to clean like I will if we come back, but it is much better and I would definitely say “livable”. We have had to chase a few mice and frogs out, and we regularly kill spiders, crickets, caterpillars, and the like. Just last night I had a run in with a snake that had decided to make its way into our doorway; that was probably the most shocking.

We do not have a flushing toilet, and the one we do have is outside, which is not too bad, except when I have to use it in the middle of the night, which happens to be every night. Thankfully, the property we are on does have a lot of water, so showers are sinks are available, but in the large communal missionary house, not ours. We also don’t have an oven, only a few gas burners, so the variety of meals available is small. We run a generator for power for two or three hours at night, but other than that, we don’t have electricity. (I’ll take a moment to praise the Lord for the generator though. Lights a wonderful when it gets so dark, and I even have to ability to blow dry my hair! Amazing!)

It is rainy season, which we expected, but it has also been unusually cool here; sometimes I would even say cold. I have worn my fleeces multiple times and Jon his jacket. We aren’t complaining though, as any relief from the heat and humidity in Mozambique is welcome.

I have been washing the clothes by hand, which I had some fear of, but I am getting used to it. Jon has been working so hard outside that I end up having to scrub his pants inch by inch with a brush. The hardest part is wringing out after washing and then after rinsing; I think my arms are going to be buff! Sometimes I get Jon to help me on the final wringing out. I have figured out that I need to wash every two days; otherwise it is way too much for this back of mine.

Jon welding

Jon welding

Jon has learned to weld and is making us a little bit of furniture for our house. (a shelf, a bed, and a table) What a blessing! It has undoubtedly added to the “homey” feeling. He also has started making a chicken run, cutting and welding poles and planting them in the ground with cement. He works very hard.

We had the opportunity to share at a youth group a couple of weeks ago, and we plan to share our testimonies with them this upcoming week. We’ll split the girls and guys up, which will be fun; I love girls! It is a neat group of older youth (15-18) that we feel we would easily get more involved with. Jon also preached at a church a couple of Sundays ago. He did a great job speaking of the family of Christ, as the believers here, as in all countries we have been to, have welcomed us with open arms.

All of our speaking has been in Portuguese! I am a little amazed. I think our language is improving, and public speaking is forcing us to be comfortable much quicker. There is another tribal language commonly spoken here in Menongue, and we are trying to pick up what we can. So far we have the greetings and ‘thank you’ down.

We also have begun to pursue some ministry in the hospital. We hope to have a meeting in the next week or two in order to get permission to start visiting… we miss our friends in the Maputo hospital and pray for them regularly.

Yesterday we visited the home of an elderly woman that has been sick for five years, having pain in her bones and now a skin problem. She didn’t speak Portuguese, so communication was through her daughters; however, I am quite sure our love, through the love of Christ, was adequately shown. Jon and I encouraged one of the daughters as best we could; it can be difficult to see your mother like that for such along time. We sang and prayed together. At one point the elderly lady invited me to sit on the bed with her. My heart was full. I love being close and physically loving on people, but I also like to be respectful. With the invitation, I hopped up there and placed my hand on her thigh to show my affection. I felt so honored.

As for the future, we continue to wait for a clear answer from the Lord. In many ways we hope this will be it, but we agree that we must have a firm “Yes” or “No” from the Lord. Just last week we were reminded about and felt the need to start fasting. We started on Saturday, and I think we will fast once a week as we seek the plans of the Lord for our lives. We appreciate your prayers as well.

We have felt a bit disconnected without internet, as I am sure you have too; however, I think we should have consistency from now on. Slow, but consistent. Hallelujah! We love you and miss you guys.

Us just after crossing the border

Us just after crossing the border