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.
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.
Hands holding
Last year I wrote about an experience I had the first day we toured the project, when we visited the 1st grade classroom. We sat in the desks as their teacher and my teacher explained from the front about the class, the school, the education philosophy, what they are learning, how many were enrolled, etc, etc. I remembered nothing afterwards but the experience I had with one of the children – a blinking game with the wide-eyed girl in front of me who had turned around in her seat to see me. Yesterday I had the same surreal experience. Which I didn’t realize until today when Janine referred to the bakery site we had visited yesterday... The bakery that is being built near the preschool classrooms in Mafarania. ‘Oh, yeah, um I do remember you saying we were stopping to see it and then walking up by the classrooms…’ but by the time I reached center court I had a large entourage of children walking with me – each of them trying to hold a piece of my hand. I am certain we did make it to our designated tour spot and I am certain the bakery slab was there as my teacher had said, but I certainly do not remember anything but how big the smile on my face was as I looked down at my own personal mob of love. I am certain these are the ones Jesus had in mind when He said ‘Let the little children come to me’. What a beautiful thing that He shared them with me that day. I will never be the same. And the bakery will be there another day.
Being molded
From something that is, to something that is yet to be.
Something that I’ve realized is that I feel everything. Physical, emotional, I am in tune with where / how my body, my heart, my spirit is changing. Every movement of my becoming.
To picture it as me on the potter’s wheel is to feel it each day and each day to face a choice to stay on that wheel. To just remain here, in the moment, every day, whatever may come. To not anesthetize the discomfort of the gradual changing. It is not a harsh, sudden, painful process, but it is a process and I must choose to remain a part of it.
Honestly, I have been feeling this slight but constant discomfort every day since I arrived. Just today I recognized what that feeling is – it is the feeling I had when I returned last fall from my two-week trip here. I knew God was up to something, bringing changes in me and my life path. Honestly, it was agony – the waiting, the watching to see what this metamorphosis would produce. Yeah, this week feels a little like that.
A new beginning and a new becoming. It’s good, I'm sure.
Something that I’ve realized is that I feel everything. Physical, emotional, I am in tune with where / how my body, my heart, my spirit is changing. Every movement of my becoming.
To picture it as me on the potter’s wheel is to feel it each day and each day to face a choice to stay on that wheel. To just remain here, in the moment, every day, whatever may come. To not anesthetize the discomfort of the gradual changing. It is not a harsh, sudden, painful process, but it is a process and I must choose to remain a part of it.
Honestly, I have been feeling this slight but constant discomfort every day since I arrived. Just today I recognized what that feeling is – it is the feeling I had when I returned last fall from my two-week trip here. I knew God was up to something, bringing changes in me and my life path. Honestly, it was agony – the waiting, the watching to see what this metamorphosis would produce. Yeah, this week feels a little like that.
A new beginning and a new becoming. It’s good, I'm sure.
How did I get here?
On one hand I have no idea. I have never aspired to being a missionary – the “m” word – mmm, no, thanks. A stereotype and lifestyle that I thought just didn’t fit. And I certainly didn’t grow up thinking about being a missionary in Africa. No, no, that was the thing I would loft up to the sky when making promises to God.. “yes, God, I’ll do anything for you… even go to Africa". Certainly not reality.
Or… maybe I do know how I got here… maybe it was prayers just like that. Maybe it is a God who takes these prayers as opportunities to produce in us deeper surrender, deeper dependence, deeper love…
Maybe it was the lyrics Diane Theil wrote that I sang from my heart time after time…
If you say go, we will go
If you say wait, we will wait
If you say step out on the water
And they say it can’t be done
We’ll fix our eyes on You and we will come
Okay, yeah, maybe it was something Just. Like. That. God hears us, friends. And takes us at our word when we “say yes”. And I am here. This I know.
Or… maybe I do know how I got here… maybe it was prayers just like that. Maybe it is a God who takes these prayers as opportunities to produce in us deeper surrender, deeper dependence, deeper love…
Everything I know about a personal relationship with Jesus Christ begins and ends with surrender — with saying yes to God. That tiny, simple word initiates an exhilarating, life-altering adventure that will take you places you never thought you’d go — both literally and figuratively. [Kay Warren, Dangerous Surrender]
Maybe it was the lyrics Diane Theil wrote that I sang from my heart time after time…
If you say go, we will go
If you say wait, we will wait
If you say step out on the water
And they say it can’t be done
We’ll fix our eyes on You and we will come
Okay, yeah, maybe it was something Just. Like. That. God hears us, friends. And takes us at our word when we “say yes”. And I am here. This I know.
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