I’ve been meaning to sit down and write about my experiences in Mozambique for almost a week now. I’ve been wanting so badly to share every detail from that beautiful country. But I’ve been too afraid to try. Afraid because I know myself. I know that when I try to write about something that has stirred me like this, all I get is frustrated. I want to be able to put a piece of my heart into these pages, but words have never been enough for me. God is such a big God, he stirs things in me that the English language is incapable of encompassing. But He is a big God, and He is capable of enabling me.
So here’s my feeble attempt to share what God did in Moz.
Maputo, Mozambique. Even just typing the words makes me miss everything about that city. The sand, the smells, the pollution, the crowded buses, the streets full of people, the stares from children at our bus full of white people.
The children’s center where we stayed is a part of Iris Ministries, founded in 1994 by Heidi and Rolland Baker (google them if you’re feeling radical). 300 children live here; abandoned, sick, orphaned, and lovely children. Never have I seen so many beautiful faces in one place at one time. Precious babies, longing for attention from any one who steps one sandy foot into their center.
Day 2 I wrote—Compassion is definitely not for the lighthearted. Broken hearts come for me in this form more than any other way I’d say. But feeling pain here is so much better than not feeling. I praise YOU everyday for my heart of compassion. Thank You that I get to experience this part of Your heart. Keep the tears coming. Stretch my heart to feel more. I want to feel more—love more—laugh more—cry more—play more—dance more. Precious. That’s the only word to describe this place, these people.
And precious is true…the Lord brought to mind Matthew 18:3-4 that says that the children are the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven. Of course they are! I could sense in a way that I never have before the favor and love that Jesus felt toward these people. Watching them pray, dancing before the Lord with them, seeing their hearts of joy despite all circumstance; all I could think over and over again was “This is the kind of heart the Lord desires. This is kind of worship He loves.”
Tears were not a stranger to me in Moz to say the least. Everyday was full of moments where all I could do is sit and watch and cry. But, more often than not, my tears were wiped away by small, dirty hands. Affection is not scarce, that’s for sure.
One such experience, on Sunday morning church—
We sat on little yellow pews waiting for church to start. As usual, kids began latching on. I sat alone, feeling rather discouraged. Do kids not love me today? What’s wrong with me? The girl sitting next to me sat with her back turned to me, refusing even to glance my way. I asked her name and she muttered something I couldn’t understand. Not for long. The music stared and she grabbed my hands, leading me to the aisle. It wasn’t long before I realized that this girl was different. Her feet didn’t work quite right. She struggled down the aisle to the backed, grabbed both my hands and began to dance. Such joy on her face like I have never seen before. She was a new girl! She danced in ways she should have never been able to. Jumping and leaping, clapping and singing. Laughing all the while. We sang “Si Si Si Si Si Senor!” and she taught me all the motions. I have never experienced such joy in worship. Elisa (I finally found out her name!) taught me how to truly worship. She was an abandoned worshiper if I have ever seen one. She knew what Jesus had for her. She knew true joy was found when worshiping her King. That’s where she found freedom. Freedom from troubles of life, from her disability, from all that hinders. She is a free child. A child delighted in by her Daddy.
I realized something in church that Sunday. As little as these people have on this earth, they are the truly rich.
About halfway through the week, I started praying for more.
Day 4—“My heart is so stirred. There is so much beyond the walls of this center. SO much more pain and hurt exists out there. I want to be stretched more. Whatever it takes for my heart to get bigger.”
So..when we went out on the street to minister a few days later my prayer was answered. We met a boy with severely disfigured hands and stomach from burns. No parents to be found. Hungry and alone. It was here I knew…
Day 5--“I want to be where the most pain is. I want to touch the untouched. Literally. I want to find the children who have never been held. Love the children who have never been hugged. I know for sure my ministry is children. I have no doubts. I want to love the lowest. To start at the bottom. No matter how impossible. I want the ones who need me—who need You. I want to hold the tattered and torn. I want to look face to face with the ugly and dirty. I want the scary and scared alike. Those who are desperate and those who are stubborn. Now how does that look?”
By day 7, my prayer was this---“There has always been something in me that longs for something radical. I am believing with everything in me that you have called me to a unique purpose. My heart desires adventure. In one way, this excites me beyond belief. But in another it’s a huge place of frustration. I get so discouraged because I don’t see it! I am so afraid of these dreams getting crushed. Is it safe Lord to believe for the impossible?”
This trip was marked by many similar questions for me. Questions in my heart for the Lord that seem unanswerable!
“What am I supposed to do with all this?”
“What do You have for me Jesus?”
“Are my dreams worth dreaming anymore?”
“Can I really do anything significant?”
“Can I trust that You will keep Your promises to me?”
“Will I ever be satisfied?”
So…Jesus answered and said--
“Fix your gaze daughter. Not on your future—not on your dreams—but on Me. Only by looking directly at me do you find clarity. Details are not your concern. Plans are not yours. Look to me. Don’t lose sight. Pray. Seek my face. I will show you! Trust me!”
mmmm….satisfactory!
He then brought to mind the simple verse---
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your path straight.” Proverbs 3: 5-6
I trust You God with all my heart. Every dream and passion. I trust you with these kids whom I have come to love. You hold me, You hold them. My heart is hid in You.
Day 10—The bocaria, “The dump”. Imagine your dumpster at its worse….X 17 hundred million. Yes, people live here. They live among the flies, the garbage, the hellish smell. After climbing to the top of the literal crap mountain, I looked at the hundreds of people going about their everyday life; digging for the best trash they can find. All I could think was, “Lord, how do people get this desperate? Have You abandoned them? Have You forgotten that they have needs too? Where are You in this situation??” We prayed for several people, shared a few testimonies, and handed out bread.
How to handle this? Crap…I have no idea.
So, as my time in Moz drew to a close…I hung on as tightly as I could, hoping the days would go slower and slower. I could not get enough of that place. I was addicted from day one. I loved everything about it. I wouldn’t trade any of the cold showers, inch thick mattresses, questionable meals, or teary, heart-wrenching goodbyes for anything.
On the way home I wrote—
“My heart is so broken, and yet so full. I’ve felt every emotion from joy to anger, sadness to excitiment. I’m learning more and more how much I hate goodbyes. My heart connects so easily. But it’s worth it. I wouldn’t trade the past 2 weeks for anything. I want to remember every detail—I want to treasure every moment forever. It kills me to know that these memories will soon fade. The sadness will leave, and the pain will dim. But I pray the passion stays. Mozambique is a part of me forever. It has become so much of who I am after only 12 days. I pray that every smile, hug, and hand I help will have an eternal impact. With every breath I’ll miss that place. With everyday I’ll think of those beautiful children. Every time I see Moriamo’s marble I’ll pray for him. I’ll never forget this place or how my life was changed. My heart will forever be in that country; with the kids, in the streets, in the sand.”
Father you are so good. Even when I don’t understand. I will choose to trust. Despite poverty, despite terminal diseases, and beyond any circumstance—YOU ARE GOOD. I believe it. I trust you with my heart and theirs. Keep them together.
So, if you made it through the whole entry, I’m so proud. I hope that you were touched in even a fraction of the way I was. I honestly love more than anything to talk about my trip. I would be more than glad to sit down and show you my 600 pictures and tell you about every one! I'm sure there will be lots more to come. The Lord is still doing so much..His work isn't done! I can't wait.
"Say to the captives, 'Come out!' and to those in darkness 'Be free!'They will feed beside the roads and find pasture on every barren hill. They will neither hunger nor thirst, nor will the desert heat or sun beat upon them. He who has compassion on them will guide them and lead them beside springs of water. Shout for joy, o heavens; rejoice o earth; burst into song, o mountains! For the Lord comforts his people and will have compassion on his afflicted ones!"
Isaiah 49:9-10 &13
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