As we were kissing our kiddos in Malaybalay, Philippines goodbye just a few days ago…
our team received a phone call and called an emergency meeting.
It was a hard blow to our hearts…I feel it’s only appropriate to share the story.
Sometimes you don’t realize what you have until you’ve lost it.
Sometimes you don’t appreciate who you’ve known until they disappear.
Sandwiched in the middle of our time in Africa,
my team was privileged to live in literally the middle of no where.
An hour outside the booming city of Beira one would find Mafambisse village.
Mud huts n’ a whole lot of mango trees…on wouldn’t suspect the booming speakers blasting
Justin Beiber or Pop Pop Americano at all hours of the day –
but this was our life…and we had to embrace it!!
We spent the month of December with Peter, Shelagh, and their 3 year old daughter Clara.
It was a hard month. Mango bugs. Bucket showers. Sweltering heat.
Mosquitoes galore, witchcraft encounters, loud booming music playing all hours of the day.
But in the same breath, it was a great month.
The kids were so loving. The orphanage was so full of life.
The village children brought us mangoes to our door every morning.
The women served us with an example of HONOR that would be hard to replicate.
The people of Mozambique fought for us…and provided every comfort they were able to, including ice water.
I realized quickly, it wasn’t about comfort though, No, this month was about CHOOSING to LOVE.
Even when it’s hot. Even when you’re tired.
Even when you’re annoyed with all the dirt stuck to your skin.
Even when you get glances from the men passing by.
Even when…even when...
I remember being pretty much over the conditions of this hot n’ sweaty village with about 2 weeks left.
I was in love with the people, but my body was screaming at me to get the heck out of there.
It was the first time I’d had a fever and other bodily issues on the race –
and let’s just say, squatty potties weren’t cutting it!
When two of my teammates contracted malaria –
we found ourselves on a New Year’s Eve bus to South Africa
…leaving the village with less than 3 hours warning.
That’s when I broke.
Packing my bag together, hugging the women, embracing and dancing with the children.
My heart was crushed. I felt hollow and helpless inside.
It was too soon, way too soon.
It was too soon, way too soon.
How could the place I’d so desperately wanted to leave, suddenly become the place I felt helpless leaving?
Goodbyes were given; embraces exchanged.
Clara hugged me close and fell asleep on my chest as I carried her to the bus station.
She was ‘my little girl’ all month…and after a little teasing/loving, took a liking to me.
Smiles, tears, bread and bananas for the road.
Six seats were reserved on the rickety African bus…
a 24 hour + journey…and we were out of there.
It’s been two months since we left that village…and it still carries a piece of my heart.
I remember dancing with my girls in the sunshine…even though it was exceptionally hot.
I remember the women cooking delicious variations of rice dishes each day to keep a variety.
I remember visiting surrounding villages, and choosing each day to step out of comfort and LOVE.
But this blog isn’t about what I remember…it’s not even about me.
This about a woman I met there who changed my life.
This is about a woman whose life breathed HONOR and SERVICE.
This is about a woman who loved her husband Peter, walked faithfully as His eyes, and was not ashamed.
This is about a mother who raised Clara in the grounding of God’s love and truth.
This is about a woman whose faith allowed her to follow God no matter the cost.
This is about Shelagh, our ministry contact’s wife who died recently of malaria.
This is about family…a sister in Christ, for whose loss we feel a great amount of grief.
This is about a woman who single-handedly left an impact on the hearts of 6 women in Mozambique.
Peter the man who ran a widower’s ministry…is now a widower.
Clara is now motherless…but that’s not the point.
God is their supply, their portion, their comfort…their everything.
It doesn’t make sense to me. It hurts a whole lot, but God gets the glory.
God was woven into and saturated literally every element and dimension of this woman’s life.
Clara is now motherless…but that’s not the point.
God is their supply, their portion, their comfort…their everything.
It doesn’t make sense to me. It hurts a whole lot, but God gets the glory.
God was woven into and saturated literally every element and dimension of this woman’s life.
Her life left and unmistakable impact on everyone who knew her.
Please join me in praying this for Peter, Clara, and Mafambisse village:
“I know the Lord is always with me, I will not be shaken for He is right beside me.”
[Psalm 16:8]
