Here are some snippets from one of the teachings.
Ezekiel 36:25-26
We need to clean our heart and let the Spirit work in us.
If we’re sick we go to the hospital but if we are sick spiritually we need to bring it to the church. As your mouth praises, make sure your heart is right. Don’t hide our sins or struggles in our dancing – talk to your sister. We need to let the work of the Spirit be in our lives. Pray for this. Many women in the church like to sing and dance but not to pray. We need to pray.
If there’s a mango tree that’s not doing well we’ll trim it down, add more water and wait for more blooms to come. God wants to cut off the things in us that are bad so we will germinate new things and our fruit can be good. There is no medicine for this – you need time with the Lord. Can’t go to the witchdoctor – He doesn’t know our bodies. He didn’t make us. He doesn’t know how to help us – only God knows.
If you don’t let the Lord break you and clean you of these things now you’ll have problems later.
James 1:22-26 talks about being doers of the Word, not merely hearers. And then she read verse 27: Real religion is this… to look after the widows and orphans in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.
Sometimes you come to a mountain and you think you can’t climb it, but this is part of your journey. Know that Jesus is still at work. And no one can help but Jesus who died on the cross to help. He did it for you and for me.
And there was power that came as a result of the Word being spoken – there is POWER in the message of the Cross. At this point both interpreters broke down under the presence of the Lord. One of them couldn’t continue and had to be replaced as she quietly stepped back to wipe her tears and collect herself. The teaching continued as another stepped up. And then there was praying.
And then there was dancing ☺
African Rhythm & Dance
At the women’s conference, I have my make-shift drum (a plastic container of almonds), but some songs I don’t even pick it up from next to my chair because I’m struggling to get the hang of the basic clap (that the entire crowd of women is doing, easily). Then I try to add the ‘step’. Sometimes you step-touch on the beat (like Will Smith teaches Albert in Hitch -- really that’s all it was, so why did it feel so complicated?!). Other songs are on the syncopated beat. Challenge!!
“Does EVERY woman in this tent have more rhythm than I??” I think to myself.
Throughout the weekend, each different church group presents the special dance/song that they have prepared. Just before it’s time for the next one, you will see that group of women slip out of the meeting area to prepare. When they return, they are wearing their matching capulanas, singing as they enter, following the leader, and already incorporating dance… 3 steps forward, hesitation step, 2 back…
One of my favorite parts is when so much dust is being kicked up that someone comes in with a bucket of water to sprinkle the dancing area! Right on!
Another great moment is when a woman gets up from the crowd and runs to the front, waving her capulana. She runs in front and among the ones dancing, waving her piece of fabric as a sign of blessing. This is often accompanied by loo-loo-loo’s of other women, whooping it up – usually done after an impressive step move has been displayed. There is so much joy and love and togetherness in this place.
It is truly a house of worship for the Lord of the Dance!
“Does EVERY woman in this tent have more rhythm than I??” I think to myself.
Throughout the weekend, each different church group presents the special dance/song that they have prepared. Just before it’s time for the next one, you will see that group of women slip out of the meeting area to prepare. When they return, they are wearing their matching capulanas, singing as they enter, following the leader, and already incorporating dance… 3 steps forward, hesitation step, 2 back…
One of my favorite parts is when so much dust is being kicked up that someone comes in with a bucket of water to sprinkle the dancing area! Right on!
Another great moment is when a woman gets up from the crowd and runs to the front, waving her capulana. She runs in front and among the ones dancing, waving her piece of fabric as a sign of blessing. This is often accompanied by loo-loo-loo’s of other women, whooping it up – usually done after an impressive step move has been displayed. There is so much joy and love and togetherness in this place.
It is truly a house of worship for the Lord of the Dance!
It is a battle
[Sept 23] I was headed to bed, but as I returned to the hallway to turn off the final light I got caught by the sound coming through the open windows -- drums in the night. Witchdoctor drums, drums to summon evil spirits drums. I heard stories about these drums last year when I was here. Today I uncovered a CRI newsletter written by Noemia in Sept 07 that I had stuck in my luggage - she had written a story about these drums. But until tonight, I had never heard them for myself.
The sound carries through the night air along with the occasional whistle of a train. I wonder how people in that part of town can sleep, it must be loud. The beat sounds intense and commanding. I resist my natural urge to try and pick up their rhythm. But I am stirred to take my place in the battle. Drums have always been used as a battle cry, particularly significant to me. I have waited for this night for an entire year -- what would I do when I first heard them, how would it affect me, would I be compelled to grab my drum, run outside, and beat right back?
Tonight, as I listened I found myself steeled and focused to find my place in this battle. Not in the immediate, not with a drum, but with the way I protect my thoughts and ground myself in the Word and move about the village tomorrow. It heightened the responsibility I feel to the teens who are taking drum lessons from me this week -- to talk and pray with them, consecrating their playing for the Lord and no other. It gave weight and urgency to my desire to go and take the gospel that has the power to save out into the village before it is too late.
So tomorrow, I want to take my place in the battle here. Next month, I want to come back to America knowing more the power of the gospel. And tonight, I will pray. Will you pray with me for the souls of those who are beating? And hearing? And waiting to know the Lord?
The sound carries through the night air along with the occasional whistle of a train. I wonder how people in that part of town can sleep, it must be loud. The beat sounds intense and commanding. I resist my natural urge to try and pick up their rhythm. But I am stirred to take my place in the battle. Drums have always been used as a battle cry, particularly significant to me. I have waited for this night for an entire year -- what would I do when I first heard them, how would it affect me, would I be compelled to grab my drum, run outside, and beat right back?
Tonight, as I listened I found myself steeled and focused to find my place in this battle. Not in the immediate, not with a drum, but with the way I protect my thoughts and ground myself in the Word and move about the village tomorrow. It heightened the responsibility I feel to the teens who are taking drum lessons from me this week -- to talk and pray with them, consecrating their playing for the Lord and no other. It gave weight and urgency to my desire to go and take the gospel that has the power to save out into the village before it is too late.
So tomorrow, I want to take my place in the battle here. Next month, I want to come back to America knowing more the power of the gospel. And tonight, I will pray. Will you pray with me for the souls of those who are beating? And hearing? And waiting to know the Lord?
And the darkness could not overcome it...
Tonight a simple example of the infallibility of light in this place.
Tuesdays are prayer service at the church. The numbers are small but the hearts are strong. And humble as we come together before the Lord to petition Him. By the end of the evening the numbers will have grown. Tonight’s story is not an uncommon one, worthy of mention.
As we gathered to begin our service of adoration, confession, thanksgiving and supplication, our leader began to speak. She began to bring us together as one in that place through words of exhortation, then asked for one of us to open in prayer. After that she continued, and as she continued the brightly lit cement room we were meeting in suddenly and without warning became dark – completely dark – but our leader did not miss a beat. As she continued, the few of us each reached for our cell phone beside us and brought light to that place again. Without skipping a beat.
As we went on in that now softly lit room, I found myself noting the intimate feeling, the closeness that came as the lights were held near to each one, patching our small group together. What a personal God we serve. To meet with us so intimately. It remained just so through the time of pairing up to offer prayers of intercession before the Lord our God, our Maker, ever-present Light in the darkness. Just after this the lights did come back on, allowing us an easier time of connecting with each other after the service and ushering us out into the world again… full of light.
Tuesdays are prayer service at the church. The numbers are small but the hearts are strong. And humble as we come together before the Lord to petition Him. By the end of the evening the numbers will have grown. Tonight’s story is not an uncommon one, worthy of mention.
As we gathered to begin our service of adoration, confession, thanksgiving and supplication, our leader began to speak. She began to bring us together as one in that place through words of exhortation, then asked for one of us to open in prayer. After that she continued, and as she continued the brightly lit cement room we were meeting in suddenly and without warning became dark – completely dark – but our leader did not miss a beat. As she continued, the few of us each reached for our cell phone beside us and brought light to that place again. Without skipping a beat.
As we went on in that now softly lit room, I found myself noting the intimate feeling, the closeness that came as the lights were held near to each one, patching our small group together. What a personal God we serve. To meet with us so intimately. It remained just so through the time of pairing up to offer prayers of intercession before the Lord our God, our Maker, ever-present Light in the darkness. Just after this the lights did come back on, allowing us an easier time of connecting with each other after the service and ushering us out into the world again… full of light.
Unlocking the soul
They say the eyes are the window to the soul. What they fail to mention is that for many those windows have a guarded shade down. I will tell you a secret about disarming that guard, but first there are some things we must agree on…
Life in Mozambique is hard. Life in America is hard, too, but take away the anesthetization of losing one’s self in busyness or a job or overeating or television or sex or alcohol and what is left but really facing life?
Yes, some can be the same here. But then much of the trouble in Mozambique is compounded by lack of food, money, recent history of war, the AIDS pandemic that has claimed the lives of family members. And a third world country does not provide the same comforts that we may know.
As I drive through the village with American eyes, the look I see in theirs as they look back at me might be hopelessness, desperation, curiosity, apprehension, or something I have not yet identified correctly.
For one who comes from a culture where I’ve never been in the minority, to have so many new eyes on you can be intimidating -- and interpreting them – near impossible and usually wrong. But the eyes are, as we have stated, the window to the soul so it is worth our time to take another step in and see what we can find.
This next step, I believe is the key.
The next step… is actually very simple… it is to say ‘hello’. Somehow the voice, reaching out over the airwaves, is a connector and often the key which can unlock a guarded soul. Whether it was apprehension, or curiosity, or maybe hopelessness, this “Bom Dia” is a peace offering from one to another. One of respect and hope – nearly always returned with a sudden smile and reciprocal greeting. It is truly a magical moment, disarming for the American, too. This is the moment we realize that in the face of hunger, disease, uncertainty, and loss, there is something more powerful still. And this power of one human reaching out to another, even in this simple way, that is the power of the living God in us. Amen.
Life in Mozambique is hard. Life in America is hard, too, but take away the anesthetization of losing one’s self in busyness or a job or overeating or television or sex or alcohol and what is left but really facing life?
Yes, some can be the same here. But then much of the trouble in Mozambique is compounded by lack of food, money, recent history of war, the AIDS pandemic that has claimed the lives of family members. And a third world country does not provide the same comforts that we may know.
As I drive through the village with American eyes, the look I see in theirs as they look back at me might be hopelessness, desperation, curiosity, apprehension, or something I have not yet identified correctly.
For one who comes from a culture where I’ve never been in the minority, to have so many new eyes on you can be intimidating -- and interpreting them – near impossible and usually wrong. But the eyes are, as we have stated, the window to the soul so it is worth our time to take another step in and see what we can find.
This next step, I believe is the key.
The next step… is actually very simple… it is to say ‘hello’. Somehow the voice, reaching out over the airwaves, is a connector and often the key which can unlock a guarded soul. Whether it was apprehension, or curiosity, or maybe hopelessness, this “Bom Dia” is a peace offering from one to another. One of respect and hope – nearly always returned with a sudden smile and reciprocal greeting. It is truly a magical moment, disarming for the American, too. This is the moment we realize that in the face of hunger, disease, uncertainty, and loss, there is something more powerful still. And this power of one human reaching out to another, even in this simple way, that is the power of the living God in us. Amen.
Walk with me two
The housing complex that I live in has a circle that I follow to walk and pray. Usually after I have completed one circle and am ready to arrive back at the house, I feel the Lord prompt – go with me two. I realize the first circle has only served to and quiet and still my own running thoughts, I have not yet heard from Him. And so I begin the walk again.
Today the second circle showed me my own footsteps in the sand. I began to think about recent prayers that my leader and I had been praying, for me to find my own way, following not in other's footsteps, but just my own.
Then I came up behind two Mozambican women walking ahead of me, and I began to search for their footsteps, in symbolism of knitting myself to their lives and their ways; in desire to give myself more to people here. As I walked a distance behind them I prayed for spiritual things, for God to enlarge my selfish heart and my capacity to hold His love for them.
And then He showed me that some of the very the things I have been wrestling with here – the need to be known, and seen, and heard, and loved for who I am – are the very things that He is calling me to do for others. Thank God for His grace to gently and persistently call us outside of ourselves. To see those around us. And to walk not just for ourselves.
Lord, give us more grace to walk this road together.
Today the second circle showed me my own footsteps in the sand. I began to think about recent prayers that my leader and I had been praying, for me to find my own way, following not in other's footsteps, but just my own.
Then I came up behind two Mozambican women walking ahead of me, and I began to search for their footsteps, in symbolism of knitting myself to their lives and their ways; in desire to give myself more to people here. As I walked a distance behind them I prayed for spiritual things, for God to enlarge my selfish heart and my capacity to hold His love for them.
And then He showed me that some of the very the things I have been wrestling with here – the need to be known, and seen, and heard, and loved for who I am – are the very things that He is calling me to do for others. Thank God for His grace to gently and persistently call us outside of ourselves. To see those around us. And to walk not just for ourselves.
Lord, give us more grace to walk this road together.
Pieces of me
I don't know if other people are like this, but I know there are many pieces of me. For example, I will sometimes sign my name to an email 'Africa Jen' if I'm writing an update from a place of full-standing in that calling. Or maybe I am connecting with my identity as a worshipper – Worshipper Jen. Or needing to affirm my place as a daughter of the king: God's Jen. And what I'm anxious to find out is – did all the pieces make it across the ocean?
As I am settling into daily Living Life here in this new place, different parts of me begin to surface. The other day I felt playful and I wondered 'does that jen have a place here'? Is there a someone, or a somewhere, or a somehow that will allow me to be that jen here? How about a Leader? A Follower, for sure, as I came to be mentored and to learn. Just last night I felt myself awakened again to the piece of me that intercedes (prays for others). 'oh, yeah… I am that too'. And it was good, it felt like I had been reunited with a very dear friend, and I am starting to move in that way again.
It appears that God is awakening each of these in proper time as He helps me see their place here and I find my being. I do think all parts of me crossed that ocean. And I think to come and serve at the Ray of Light project is a great way to utilize all of yourself because it is so varied and the leaders are so encouraging to helping you bring all of yourself to the table, to give as you are uniquely equipped to give. What's more exciting is that I suspect God, in His infinite wisdom, has brought me here to show me even the new pieces of who I am in Him… Jen of Contentment… Healing... Life of the party… fearless… And to strengthen and affirm other pieces… servant… Warrior Jen… Jen of compassion… Songwriter… friend of God. Amazing stuff. Aren't words of identity powerful? Praying you will be reminded and connect with some of yours today.
As I am settling into daily Living Life here in this new place, different parts of me begin to surface. The other day I felt playful and I wondered 'does that jen have a place here'? Is there a someone, or a somewhere, or a somehow that will allow me to be that jen here? How about a Leader? A Follower, for sure, as I came to be mentored and to learn. Just last night I felt myself awakened again to the piece of me that intercedes (prays for others). 'oh, yeah… I am that too'. And it was good, it felt like I had been reunited with a very dear friend, and I am starting to move in that way again.
It appears that God is awakening each of these in proper time as He helps me see their place here and I find my being. I do think all parts of me crossed that ocean. And I think to come and serve at the Ray of Light project is a great way to utilize all of yourself because it is so varied and the leaders are so encouraging to helping you bring all of yourself to the table, to give as you are uniquely equipped to give. What's more exciting is that I suspect God, in His infinite wisdom, has brought me here to show me even the new pieces of who I am in Him… Jen of Contentment… Healing... Life of the party… fearless… And to strengthen and affirm other pieces… servant… Warrior Jen… Jen of compassion… Songwriter… friend of God. Amazing stuff. Aren't words of identity powerful? Praying you will be reminded and connect with some of yours today.
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