Category: Mozambique

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

Our first visitor! (and other tid bits)

Isn't it cozy?

A Layne Post

We are getting ready for our first visitor!

One week from today, Javan Mesnard, good friend to Jon and member of Voices of the World is coming to spend a week, including Thanksgiving with us, and we could not be more excited! How nice to have a ‘touch of home’ for the holiday. The patients in Oncology are eager to meet him as well… our first visitor!
In preparation we’ve gotten our guest room ready, so go ahead, contact us about when you’d like to come visit!

This year will be our very first Thanksgiving where we get to be the hosts. How fun! Jon is happy to have Javan to assist with his turkey preparation and baking. He will be preparing a bacon wrapped turkey = Yum! My list for cooking/baking is quite long, and I plan to do as much in advance as possible. Our guests, besides Jon and I, will include 4 Americans, 3 Portuguese, 1 Brazilian, 1 South African, and potentially 2 Mozambicans. We’ll update afterward to let you know how it all goes down. =)

25wks

In other news, Miss Anaya is growing quickly and healthily. We have an appointment this week, which I love! Since we get ultrasounds at each appointment, I am always anxious to see my baby girl. I am feeling pretty good these days, though the heat seems to make me a bit more tired. Standing up and looking down, my toes have disappeared. =/

I have already had one Skype baby shower from our Arizona friends, complete with games, gifts, laughter, tears, and prayer. What a blessing that was for me. Our Corpus friends are doing something for me, but I cannot know yet… only that something is happening. AND my church here is having a tea/shower for me and my friend Bibiana, who is due the same week as me, early in December. I really feel overwhelmed with love for our family.

Silly Dad

As for our other ‘baby’, Gasher is growing and becoming a regular member of the family. It is already a little hard to imagine life without him… even if that image seems easier. =) We’ve settled into a nice routine with him, and if we can get him out for a nice walk/run in the morning, he tends to be quite pleasant. The digging, eating my welcome mat, shaking his messy jowls all over, stinky toots, etc. just come with package. Ha!

The Lord is good.

These moments of joy, life, and happiness are such an encouragement to me. Anaya kicking in my belly, while I am visiting at the hospital. Laughing and dancing in the kitchen with my husband, while the dogs barks in confusion of the ruckus. Phone conversations with my family. An upcoming visit from a friend.

Thank you Lord.

November 14, 2010

Layne

Around the house, Mozambique, Personal

6 comments

One Year Ago Today

A Jon Post

One year in Africa. A month in Botswana, two months in Mozambique, two months in Angola, one month in Namibia and finally, 6 more months in Mozambique. Twelve months in Africa.

And today, one year in, a painful reminder of the reason we are here.

Today, Oombi died. The three-year-old son of my good friend Albano entered the hospital 10 months ago with a cancerous tumor in his eye. Albano brought his son to the Maputo Central Hospital and lived with him, slept in the same bed, spent every long day caring for his son and waiting to take him home. He goes home on Wednesday in a casket.

We knew and loved Oombi. We visited him and his father. Over the last 6 months I’ve sat countless times with Albano, praying over his sick boy, waiting on the hand of our Lord. I’ve studied the Bible with Albano while he held his tired son in his lap. And I’ve smiled and held Oombi as he toddled over to me with a shy smile.

This is our ministry.

One year in.

We have a vision. It’s not huge for now. It’s not to reach hundreds at a time. It’s to see the one. To love the one. To bring a smile to the one.

One at a time.

Our vision is to use the house the Lord has blessed us with as a place of hope. A place of love.

We’ll call it Casa Ahava. Casa simply means house or home in Portuguese and Ahava is a Hebrew word for love. It’s used in the Song of Solomon 8:7 when speaking of a love that cannot be washed away or quenched by a torrent of water. A love that sees all the depth of suffering and pain that will come as a result of choosing to love and yet chooses anyway. Ahava sees pain and misery and chooses to love.

Casa Ahava will see pain and loneliness and offer hope and rest.

One at a time.

This is our ministry. This is our vision.

November 8, 2010

Jon

Hospital Ministry, Mozambique

5 comments

Rosina

A Layne Post

Some of you may have read about Rosina on my other blog. Rosina had a large tumor/open wound on her foot that was not improving, even with treatment. When I spoke with her a week and a half ago, she had just found out that the doctors had decided to amputate her foot and probably a bit of her leg. She was struggling to deal with the news, quite sad and overwhelmed. As I watched her face wince in pain, I tried to encourage her that perhaps the surgery would allow the constant pain to stop. Still, I left her in bed depressed.

I returned a couple days later to Rosina sitting, more wobbling, in bed. She no longer wore the cloth to cover her bald head, making her face look more gaunt than before. I sat with her in bed, trying to help support her, whole avoiding the wounds on her leg. The smell of rotting flesh has become so familiar to me. In her discomfort she tried to ask me to scratch her back. Me, not knowing the word for “scratch” in Portuguese, struggled to understand her wish. After some effort from her tired body, we figured it out, and I was able to scratch her back.

Once again I was reminded of people’s need for a companion in suffering. So many times I feel inadequate, angry that a close friend or family member cannot be there to take my place, someone who can understand them easily, someone who can naturally lay in bed with them. However, in that absence, somehow the Lord has placed me there, and in that person’s desperation they seem to cling to anyone, even a strange, foreign, white, pregnant girl.

The next time I saw Rosina she was laying in bed, unable to sit, unable to talk. In some ways I could not believe she had deteriorated so quickly, yet in other ways I was amazed that her body had somehow kept living so many hours, so many days in excruciating pain. That day was full of prayers, tears, and song, knowing her life on this earth was coming to a close. I begged the Lord in His mercy to take her quickly and to save her soul.

I was unable to return to the hospital until Friday, four days later, due to some vehicle paperwork problems. Thankfully, Rosina was from Maputo and had family in town that would visit a few hours a day. She lost her fight on Thursday; I believe her parents were present. I could not believe she had lived so long.

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Sometimes I feel like our ministry is slow going. It is taking time to get going, to start the project in our home, to fill up our schedules, etc. However, in moments like I had with Rosina, I think to myself, “She was worth it. She was worth my time, your support, my living so far from my family… Rosina was worth it.”

And so I thank you. Thank you for supporting Jon and I financially, emotionally and spiritually, for being part of this ministry. Thank you for making it possible for this strange, foreign, white, pregnant girl to sit in the beds of few sick Mozambican ladies and attempt to spread the tangible love of Jesus.

November 1, 2010

Layne

Hospital Ministry, Mozambique

6 comments

Our Lives

A (long and maybe boring) Jon Post

Life is hard to understand sometimes. It’s also hard to do sometimes.

Thinking about life with my dog

Gasher agrees "Life is hard but fun"

Layne and I are in Botswana right now as this is posted. We own a vehicle from when we lived in Botswana (for those of you who tracked with us back in November of last year we bought one there to replace a vandalized/ruined one we owned previously) and dearly wish to keep it. I was speaking to Layne about “dream cars” for our current life here in Maputo and, honestly, I wouldn’t pick anything different than the Land Cruiser we own. It’s an amazing vehicle and has taken us across the continent of Africa 3 times and seems ready to do it a hundred more.

Working on my dream car

Well, to keep it here in Mozambique it turns out there are some papers and costs.
We need a “Police Clearance Letter”, essentially saying that we own it free and clear and didn’t steal it from anyone. This letter must come from Botswana and the vehicle must be there in order for it to be issued. Hence, we find ourselves driving 13 hours across the continent (again), simply to pick up a letter.

And we need to come up with some money. We’re not sure how much at this point (we need to get the afore mentioned letter to start the process and find out) but it looks to be anywhere from $1800 – $3500. No… we’re not trying to raise this money here and now on this blog (though we may later, heck… it’s a lot of money), I just mention it because it’s there and it’s on my heart and I like sharing what’s on my heart here with you.

On my heart… I don’t know if I communicate it all that well at times. With a daughter coming and an incredible wife I often find myself a bit preoccupied with thoughts of them and their safety.
Pray with me please. Pray with me that God grants them safety.

I heard a song a couple weeks ago by a desperate husband and father who simply wants to do both of those jobs well. He sings of his wife and children calling out to him and at times I can hear and see the same thing in mine.
Lead me with strong hands.
Stand up when I can’t
Don’t leave me hungry for love…
Show me you’re willing to fight
That I’m still the love of your life

And his/my response is simply to cry out to Christ

My beautiful wife loves me so well

Lead me
To lead her, with strong hands.
To stand up when she can’t
I don’t want to leave her hungry for love…
I’ll show her I’m willing to fight
That she’ll always be the love of my life
So lead me, because I can’t do this alone.

I want so badly to lead, provide for, cover over, and protect my wife and child. Pray with me please.