New Blog

Well, I think I'm switching to a wordpress blog. I'll continue to post on both for a few posts to see if I like the wordpress one better. The main reason I'm switching is because I can have other pages off of my blog and I'm setting a shop to sell my photos/earrings. And I can't do that on blogger. And I can make it look nicer alot easier. Well, relatively so. So visit www.ajourneytogodsheart.wordpress.com to find my new blog!

Brasil- 2009

“Forgetting what is behind, and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal.” Philippians 3:13/14

If I was planning my life out two years ago, I never would have dreamed of where I was headed. The unexpected twists and turns on this road of life is what makes it interesting. After coming back from Africa to a crashed economy and unemployment rates rising, I prayed diligently as to what I was supposed to do, if I was to find a job or just to escape to another country again. The new reality of America shocked me, but all things work for the good of those who love God, and God brought me a wonderful job in an unexpected place. I have been working with an autistic seven year old boy in the local public school these past few months. I love the kid and working with him is always interesting.

However, another unexpected turn has come in this road-trip of a lifetime to God's heart. I'm going back to Brazil!

I'm going to a completely different place in Brazil, and with different ministries than I have in the past. I will be going there to visit the two bases that Iris Ministries has there, in Rio de Janeiro state and in Sao Paulo city. I will be visiting these bases to find out if I could see myself working there long-term in the future. I will be helping out with the projects that they have, teaching some art classes, helping with a feeding program, and working with kids in large and very poor favelas (slums).

In addition to the two Iris bases, I will also be visiting a church in Rio de Janeiro and helping at some projects they have with women, youth, and children in the favelas.
I will be in Brazil for 2 months, from June 17- August 23.

Please pray for me, the Iris bases, and the children that I will be working with. Pray for:
Good health and safety for me and the Iris base leaders
Discernment to determine where God is leading me to work with Iris
Greater ability to understand and communicate in Portuguese
That the children would know God's love above all else
Open doors and windows where God wants to share His love through me

Your prayers are needed so much!

I will be updating this blog from Brazil. I will post further prayer requests on here as time goes on. I will also be sending email updates to those of you who are on my email list. If you would like to be on this list, please send me your email address.

Thank you so much for your continued and faithful support!

Vai com Deus!
-Emily Bair

For tax-deductible donations to this trip or the projects I'll be working with:

Follow this link to contribute with a credit card: https://protected.hostcentric.com/jbair/order.htm
(The website is for my dad's computer software business, English Plus, its legit.) Use the box for “Donations” and write in the “Special Instructions” box “Brazil”. Don't worry about the computer system information.

Or if you would like to use a check, make it payable to Harvest Christian Center, with Brazil on the memo line. Send all checks to: Harvest Christian Center, 302 Soundview Ave, Shelton CT, 06484.

Red Dirt

red dirt runs thick through my veins
promising me
that if i return, it will expel
and rid myself of this
craze
this red dirt. which
causes my heart to beat
with the rhythm of the drums
pounding out their worship
sunrise
to the star-flung night
we chant and sing
clap our hands, dance
faces, faces
black and white
chants
as the red dust flies
into our mouths.
breathing in africa
breathing out our homes
for now we are home
the dust in our hair, nose, teeth, eyes
proves it.
the red dirt clogs my veins.
enters my heart.
promising me
a swift return.
the dirt must go back
replace replace
to where it came.

TIA, ti amo, te amo.
for what is it to love another?
what is it to love a country?
what is it to love a place?
are not these places
just faces and faces
the faces we love?

the red dirt smeared on his little black feet
the day he runs up to me and we meet
red dust flung into his hair
brush it out, brush it out,
the kids don't care.
their blood must be red from this african dirt.
running and playing, happy, carefree.
what a world we would live in if we all could be.

cover your mouth
don't breathe in.
too late
you did it.
you're infected
with africa.
with africa love.

Someone Else's Blog

Its after midnight. I should be asleep. I have to work tomorrow. But I can't sleep. Not now. Not tonight. African drums pound in my head. I wake to the chant of "Cavonli-ca-na" in my head. I think I actually woke up singing it yesterday.

I was poking around on the Compassion International blog, and I found someone who feels much like I do:

"The running water in my comfy apartment cannot help the hurt in my heart today. The grande nonfat latte I picked up from my favorite coffee shop didn’t help, either.

American luxuries I once looked forward to now feel empty, as nothing fills the void that Africa left.

Someone once said, “Once you get the dust of Africa on your feet, it will never leave you.”

Every day further away from Rwanda, the more I ache to be there. It’s been six weeks since my return from Africa, yet some moments, I feel as if I just stepped off the plane and into this alternate reality called America.

People were intrigued and interested for a short amount of time, but then the interest faded. And I’m left to pick up the pieces of my broken heart.

Leaving the kids I loved in Kigali, Rwanda, was like a death. It happens to most people who spend any amount of time away from home, and then return.

I cannot blame those around me who seemingly lose interest. The truth is, they have their own concerns, challenges, and broken hearts.

Life continued while I was away. It doesn’t mean people don’t care. It just means that new things sweep them up in the ever-flowing, ever-changing current of life."

Substitute Mozambique there instead of Rwanda, and four and half months instead of six weeks. But I like where she goes with this. She doesn't just sit there. I can't just sit here either. I can't sit here and let Africa die.

"

The U.S. is a stark reality when compared with the developing world. But for now, the Lord has me here in America, like most of you who are reading this. A dear friend of mine exhorted me: Don’t live in sadness.

Pray. Engage. Invest.

I need not be in Africa in order to shape Africa, to have a profound impact on a child in poverty. I simply need a heart that prays and longs for healing and blessing upon a continent too often overlooked."

But I can't just sit and pray. I have to DO something. I'm collecting clothes for them. Shoes, 20 pair of crocs so far (haha, my sister flipped out, the NYC fashion queen doesn't like crocs). Money, mets to go back, sending money thru various organizations. And I talk about Africa alot. Alot alot.

It was so nice to be able to talk about Iris with a friend who is thinking of going there. He asked me all these questions and I got to talk all about Africa and Iris. Haha, I'm recruiting people to go there.

But what else can we do? What else can we do here? I can't sleep still, my heart hurts too much...

Saving the animals too

As I was reading the April 13 edition of Time Magazine, I started to cry when I saw a picture of gorillas that had been killed in the Congo. Maybe its because I have a soft spot in my heart for the great apes (relatives of monkeys, I always have had a number of stuffed animals of great apes in addition to my usual monkey collection) or maybe because I have it in my heart to go to the Congo and help the people there. Maybe it was just that I realized that the war there is destroying not only the life of the people there, but also the animals, and it takes much more time to restore a country from ecological devastation than it does to simply repair the bombed out buildings. Or as in the case of Mozambique, to not restore the buildings, and go back to simple village life.

I have read how the war in Moz destroyed the animals-- big game like lions, elephants, black rhinos, leopards, and zebra-- and how they are just starting to be able to bring some of the wildlife back to Moz in some remote regions.

Do we need the same thing to happen in the Congo? The Congo holds such awesome equatorial jungles, they cannot just remain a casualty of war, and we can't just let the people and gorillas and all living things be wiped out.

I know I am trying to find my way to God's heart through this blog, but I am realizing that God made the earth and we need to take such good care of it. Conservation and preserving the environment go right along with what God desires. And it goes hand in hand with sustainable community development.

As a missionary, I can't just go into a country and bring my own seeds from America and tell them how to plant them. I need to find out what grows best there, what the environment is like, and then enable people to grow food that is native to the area.

I believe that missions work, to tell people about God and reach out to help them by clothing them and bringing them clean water, is all related to the environment. How can we bring people clean water when the groundwater itself is polluted? How can we build houses for people if the land is so destroyed that the soil won't produce sufficient crops to live? How can we say to those who work in garbage dumps to leave their livelihood if there is a living to be made by recycling scrap metals there? (I congratulate the organization I worked with in the Quito, Ecuador dump who had made safe conditions for the people to work in the dump recycling things, and to provide an education for their children and to not allow the children to work in the dump anymore)

I think we need to re-think missions a bit for our brave new world. We need to open up our minds that climate change is real, that wildlife is being destroyed at alarming rates, and that saving people includes saving the earth around them so that they can live a healthy life.

If we see that the reef in Pemba is overfished, maybe we should try to teach the fishermen sustainable practices that allow the fish to grow back and replenish the reef. If we see that they are suffering because of overfishing, and now they can't catch enough fish to sell in the market, maybe we need to bring in a few marine biologists and people who know about fish to determine what to do about this problem.

And when the Amazon River floods so high that it destroys all the banana crops, we need to go in and help these people directly by finding other crops to grow or other means to make a living, meanwhile supporting conservation practices that are saving the rainforest. As well as reducing our own carbon loads, since global warming has, presumably, been responsible for these awful droughts and floods in the Amazon.

Which brings me to my next journey, southern Brazil. While there, I hope to visit a rainforest preserve of the Mata Atlantica in Sao Paulo state. This is one of the few places the golden lion tamarin lives, and to see it in the wild would be amazing for me. It also would be just as much of a missions trip for me to visit this conservation project which is run by christians, to learn how to make it possible to have community development and conservation go hand in hand. I believe they do. I just want to see it first hand.

And I also realized in reading the Time Magazine that I saw a really neat starfish called a Red-knobbed Sea Star in Pemba. I hadn't known the name, before. It is not endangered itself, but its habitat is. And I might have taken one of these beauties home. Might have. Which made me feel bad at first, but I think it is important to have animals (or shells, or photos) on display in the US for people to see in order to wake them up to the reality that the world is very big and that there are many other animals out there besides them. Hence why I am not against zoos in general. Although the gorilla house at the national zoo makes me very sad and almost cry.

Suid Afrika

Before I write anything, I will first say, I LOVE South Africa, I think apartheid was awful, and its a shame that there is so much violence there now. I also have gotten to hear alot of points of view on situations in South Africa from being there. Everyone I met, from all the Peace Corps volunteers posted in South Africa, to the white Afrikaaners who ran the hostel, to the taxi drivers, to the various safari guides, and people living in a well-developed village, were ready to let me know what they thought of South Africa and what was going on there as of October 08.

Unfortunately, I had no idea who Mbeki was, no idea who Zuma was, and Mbeki had just resigned when I got to South Africa. Now I am reading a bit about Zuma in the news and it just struck me as funny today when I read an article in the Wall Street Journal about Zuma's two wives. It was kind of poking fun a bit, saying "Which will be the First first lady".

I also learned that polygamy is legal in South Africa because it is such a part of their tribal culture. Anyhow, I am a bit concerned for the state of the AIDs crisis in South Africa because their president has two (almost 3) wives. And has 19 kids. I hope that the AIDs crisis does not get worse there as a result of his bad example. Well, then again, it already has had other people in the government deny that AIDs is real.

Unfortunately, I still don't see South Africa's future getting much brighter anytime soon with the new president. They need transparency in their government and need to hold the government accountable to their actions.

Disturb me

>I found a video on a pro-life website yesterday that disturbed me for various reasons. It disturbed me because planned parenthood is covering up child rape and not letting the authorities know about different cases of molestation and rape because they get money from it. These women and girls deserve so much better than that. They deserve counseling and hope. They deserve to be loved, not just to be another case in the clinic. Ok, that part disturbed me alot.

The other thing that disturbed me was that these people from SFLA (Students for Life of America, which AU Students for Life is a part of, I believe) had gone in undercover and lied about the circumstances this girl was in. That also seems wrong to me. I understand investigative reporting and doing things like this for journailstic stories, but I still don't think it is right. It kind of makes SFLA out to be some sort of rougue undercover policing body. Which AU SFL was not.

I doubt that AU SFL would have supported such an endeavor . We were pretty progressive in terms of what we did for the pro-life cause. We did not support GAP (Genocide Awareness Project) which shows photos of aborted babies on picket signs. I actually think that GAP is disrespectful to the lives of the babies who were killed as well as the mothers of those babies. The photos are disturbing and may bring out truth, but I don't think they need to be seen. It is bad taste, in the same way that showing murder victims in newspapers is in bad taste (and btw, not usually allowed in newspapers).

We supported Feminists for Life, we actually had one of their speakers come my senior year and talk on campus. Their slogan is “Women Deserve Better”. Which they do. So when we marched in the March for Life, we carried Feminist for Life signs that sais “Women Deserve Better than Abortion”. With the focus on preserving the women's rights and putting their well-being at the forefront of the debate, I think Feminists for Life manages to stay relevant in the world and doesn't alienate people.

As a group we also had someone from the gay pro-life, PLAGAL, group come and talk about how gays and lesbians should be pro-life because in the future, if they start to screeen children for diseases in-utero and abort ones with negative diseases or traits, it could very well mean that children who are said to be gay in the womb would be aborted. However, I wasn't able to attend this speaker, I think I had class.

We also held cordial debates with the AU Democrats group, the largest student group on campus. We debated the pro-life issue and kept it formal and fact-based. We didn't yell, scream, or say outright without information “You're Wrong!” I think I atteneded one of these, and it went very well. People on both sides were open to hear both sides of the debate.

We also helped out at the Capitol Hill Pregnancy Center. Various members volunteeted time there. We held “Diaper Drives” at the grocery store and asked all the rich Washingtonians shopping there on a Sunday afternoon every month to buy some diapers so that these girls who go to the pregnancy center would be able to afford keeping their baby. Diapers are expensive!! We had people who were pro-life come and applaud what we were doing. We had staunch pro-choice people buy diapers because they wanted to help the women who are from low-income neighborhoods in DC. We did have people say we were crazy and that we should do a condom drive with the diaper drive :). So we laughed about it then, and still laugh now. AU SFL stilll does diapers drives and keeps that pregnancy center stocked. That center is in NE DC, not the one nearer to AU because the GW Students for Life group worked with that one before AU SFL even started.
We also had a baby shower for the center and bought baby items that they needed, and some professors donated things to us, as well. We raised money tabling on the quad and in the student life center for this. We were able to get lots of things for the center, but unfortunately because of privacy issues, we couldn't pick a specific girl to have the shower for. Nor were we able to meet the people coming into the center unelss we had been through their counseling Anyhow, I don't think AU SFL would support what Stand True or SFLA did. I am not sure if I do, but it is disturbing. And maybe I need to start doing something to help the girls in my area who find themselves pregnant and scared and without support.

We in the church have been too quick to condemn those who get pregnant out of wedlock, but we need to love them just the same. One sin is a bad as another. I am not perfect, neither are they. Just my mistakes yesterday didn't lead to a child being born. Theirs did. Hah, we can cover up so much sin, we can cover up lots of things, but unfortunately, once a girl gets pregnant, then everyone points the finger and accuses, rather than loving.

So now I am praying, God, what do you want me to do about this, right here and now? Who do I need to be loving more? How should I go about doing that? As the prayer meeting I'm in grows, I think we will see lots of girls come in who have been hurt by men, whether they are pregnant or not, and they will be loved there and prayed for there. It will be a place of deliverance and freedom for them. I guess that's where I am at right now and where I must be working and moving for the time being.

Green

In honor of Earth Day being yesterday, I am reading an excerpt from a book called "Go Green, Save Green." Its pretty good so far, but I just found a quote that I like:
"If every American used one gallon less of water per day, we
would save more than 100 billion gallons per year. That’s enough
to supply the entire population of Mozambique with water for five
years."

That puts things into perspective. Partly because I see how big Mozambique is. And they need water alot. Not that reducing our water consumption here will automatically provide wells or running water for them, but maybe if we reduced our consumerism and took the money we saved by buying less stuff and using less water, and gave it to organizations like Blood Water Mission or Iris Ministries to build wells, then the people who have no water in Africa would have water.

Hmm, maybe that is my new idea for some missions thing... so far we have people giving up coffee and other drinks and using that money to fund projects in Africa, what if there was something that people could pledge to buy less things or use less water, and then they would donate that money to buy clothes for kids in Africa or provide wells in Africa.

What we may Ask

1 John 5:14-15 (New International Version)

¹⁴This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. ¹⁵And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him.

Since we are God's children, we can boldly approach God's throne. When we do, we can ask Him, our Daddy for anything. How amazing is that? And the Bible actually says we have it. Not even a "we will get it sometime in the future" its that we already have it, we have it in heavenly places and we need to believe that its coming on earth too.

Its not just that God is Santa Claus, He's even better! (in Heidi's new book, Compelled by Love, she says that, give credit where credit is due) Seriously, God listens to us and grants us our requests. If it is in line with His will, we can move heaven and earth to get it. How do we know if it is in line with His will? If we are truly seeking after God and His heart, then I believe the things we are asking for will be in line with His will.

It is truly amazing that God, the maker of the universe, hears us and listens to our prayers. Wow. We don't just serve a distant God, we serve a God who is our Daddy as well.

As I have been recently, I have been asking God for big-ticket things... And He is responding. I had been praying the price of a plane ticket down to $500, which is half of the usual price... AND I got it!!!! $506!! Yay God!

So I am still praying some big things down from heaven. If you believe God wants things to happen, pray for it. Pray big. Dream bigger. God is almighty and listens to us!!

sometimes my life just don't make sense at all

"sometimes my life just don't make sense at all..."
thank you rich mullins for understanding exactly how i am feeling right now. I can't make sense of anything. The only thing that I can make sense of is the most non-sensical person in my life right now and that is the autistic kid I work with. He makes sense. Or working with him does. Ironic, isn't it? The person who the world looks at as crazy is, perhaps, the one that speaks the most reassurance into my life that I am doing what I was made to do.

I just wish that people would stop thinking that I LOVE to travel. I am tired of traveling. I don't want to go anywhere. I feel so inadequate and weak right now. I can't make sense of anything.

I'm tired of people being jealous that I've been to a bunch of countries. The only place I actually chose to go was Brazil and that was a disaster to say the least. They think it is cool or they are jealous and make comments like "I never went to so many places". Well, why was that, then? Was it because God didn't call you there or was it because you were too scared to move?

But right now, I think I am too scared to move. And am stuck because of it. So "Hold me Jesus, I'm shakin like a leaf, you have been king of my glory, won't you be my prince of peace."

Your Eyes

Back from DC, don't know how I lived there without seeing. This song was on the radio as I was driving in DC and it hit me. Hard.

"All those people going somewhere
Why have I never cared

Give me your eyes for just one second
Give me your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me your love for humanity
Give me your arms for the broken hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach
Give me you heart for the ones forgotten
Give me your eyes so I can see

Step out on a busy street
See a girl and our eyes meet
Does her best to smile at me
To hide what’s underneath

There's a man just to her right
Black suit and a bright red tie
Too ashamed to tell his wife
He's out of work, he's buying time

I’ve been here a million times
A couple of million eyes
Just move and pass me by
I swear I never thought that I was wrong
I need a second glance
Give me a second chance
To see the way you’ve seen the people all along"

Zim

Just when I thought I was not going to cry when reading about Africa anymore, I picked up a book by a journalist in Zimbabwe called "Where We Have Hope". And I'm reading this book, the guy went to Zimbabwe right after it gained freedom. He got a job as a freelance journalist (ok, so I envy him a bit) and is interviewing all these people about Mugabe and the opposition party just after Mugabe gets into power.

And I start to cry. And that was in the first 2 chapters. That was before I started reading about him reporting about how Mugabe's cronies were murdering the Ndebele people simply because the Ndebele usually supported the opposition. I had to put the book down because I couldn't read it, my eyes had too many tears in them.

I never thought about Zimbabwe much until I went to Africa. I did think about Africa, like Benin and Sierra Leone, but never Zim. I couldn't have even placed it on a map. In Beira, we met and prayed with a lady who was headed to Zimbabwe. Literally, she is putting her life in danger to bring hope to these people. We prayed hard and cried and blessed her.

Iris Zimbabwe/ Generation Won ministries work there currently. I am not saying I will go there, but I am saying my heart is there. I would love to go. Oh yes, I understand cholera, inflation, violence, etc, but the cost is always worth the price we have to pay to find God.

Maybe one day I will be able to write from the perspective of having been there, but I have not been to Zimbabwe. But my heart burns for Africa. Not just Moz. Oh Jesus. He's put His love for the beautiful people of Africa in me. Thats all there is to it.

i love africa shirt

i made it. or at least i made the africa and hearts on it. sorry the pic is sideways, i cant figure out how to get it right.

I have no clue

I will readily admit I have no clue today. I have no clue what it is like to be hungry. One of the little first graders I work with has come to school w/o any snack the past few days and had been taking food (ok, stealing...) from the room and another room last week. I think she has no food in her house.

I have no idea what that is like. I am so blessed, but also, it is a curse. I can't understand what it is like to not know where the next meal will come from. This little girl is so sweet, I love her, but life for them is hard, I know. Downtown apartment, 5 kids (she's the oldest at age 6) and her mom is barely 24. Geesh. Right here in my own town.

Then I'm talking tonight with some of my friends from other countries, ok, developing countries, and they are sharing with me how hard things are. Wow, I can't even imagine. I am clueless as to what struggles most of the world goes through on a daily basis.

Lord, open my eyes. Open my experience. And yes, thats ridiculously dangerous, but how on earth can I work with street kids if I have no idea what it means to be hungry? How can I feed famine victims and refugees if I have always lived in peace and safety?

I was listening to a sermon from when Mama Aida was speaking at Oxford sometime and she was talking about how many of the pastors in the Bible school have had kids die of starvation, or relatives. She talked about it when I was in Pemba, too. I have no clue what it means to be truly hungry, and to want to feed a kid so much to risk crocodile attack to get a "black nasty bulby" waterlily bulb to eat.

I have no idea what it is like to be hungry and to steal food from another teacher's classroom. I also have no idea what it is like to receive a bag of snacks from a caring teacher (yep, i love the teacher i am working with because she does this for various kids) and maybe that's it for the weekend. I have no idea.

One Room

I had this revelation of what Heaven must look like in the grocery store last week. No, I haven't gone off the deep end, I didn't go into a trance or vision in the store. I just remembered one day in Pemba...

Heidi was speaking about how the Father's House (Heaven) has many rooms. There is the throne room where God is, of course. But she was speaking about other rooms that are in heaven that are accessible to us. She had us pray and rest awhile while we asked God for keys to doors of heaven that could be opened to us.

Heidi told us about her own experiences in finding rooms in heaven. She saw a room with all sorts of body parts, eyes, arms, legs, etc. and she was told that she would be given the key on occasion, but not all the time. So she sees lots of people healed with creative miracles and such when she has this key.

She also saw the secret place, the room where you go to meet with Jesus on your own time.

She also saw a room of food, piles and piles of it. Beans, rice, African vegetables, all there to feed the poor. God gave her the key to this room, to open it up and to feed the poor with it.

I realized that the grocery store looks just like that room must look. In this particular store, there are bins overflowing with canned and boxed goods, vegetables and fruits. There is so much food lining all the aisles of the grocery store, if we had unlimited access to it whenever we saw a need to be filled, we could feed so many hungry people. I'm not just talking about going into the store and buying food, I am talking about unlimited access, like we have in heaven. That means We ask He gives.

If we have unlimited access to a storehouse in heaven, a grocery store, we would be able to feed so many starving people all over the world. Like Heidi. Anyhow, one room in heaven looks like a grocery store, isn't that just simply amazing?

Autism & etc.

I'm thoroughly involved in my job now. I'm constantly praying for my little guy at school. He's autistic and is just the funniest little kid! He was sitting at his desk on Friday, not talking to anyone, but just talking, and holding his nose and saying in a nose-plugged up voice "I can talk like this if I do this, I'm going to do this for the rest of my life" during math class!! He is too funny.

However, he is also hard to deal with at times when he just decides he's going to "sleep" on the rug in the back of the classroom. Or run around the classroom. Or slap me or the wall or other kids. By slapping I mean sort of flapping his hands to hit something. Typical autistic behaviors.

Anyhow, he needs prayer. So does another autistic kid I know. He's 16 (I think) and him and his family used to go my church and sometimes still come tho they live an hr away. They were there today (I wasn't) and on the hour long car ride home, he opened the car door and jumped out while the car was on the interstate highway. He's in the hospital in critical condition. Pray. Pray he gets better and delivered from Aspergers.

Oh my, I can completely see how someone who is autistic would do something like that. Autism is rough.

africa rips my heart out

I could not wear any other shirt today but my one that has africa on it. i could not pray for anything but my kid at school and my African babies. I cannot think about anything but Africa. Again.

And I just slammed the door shut for me to go back there this week. Sometimes we have to give up the things we want the most to find God's heart. Sometimes we have to give up what may be our biggest desire to do what God wants.

My heart burns for Africa. For the people, for the children. Oh Jesus, I want to go back, I can't read about Africa anymore without crying. I just watched a video someone made about Iris in Pemba, and I just cried and cried. Africa is wrecking me, still.

I can't wait to go back. I know I will. I am writing that, because, actually, I have a fear that I will never go back and my 2,700 meticais will just sit on my bookshelf, aging, and never get used. I fear not returning to the children. Because I just shut the door on myself to go back.

spontaneous

Dirty hands etch the pages
penmarks write once again
the love pours out
the bumps are covered
blackened hands from coal smudges
eat away at the edges of life
taking things for granted
as we all may tend to do
as we all may tend to use
the things we see
and the things we want
to remember these days
of childhood pride
and teenage profound thoughts
some kids get things
some kids get it all
how God could love the world
could love the wildest of us
could love the whitest, the blackest
those ones in between
the ones in between the lines
of regulated senses
and pure insanity
so we scratch the paper
pencil pen
again again
we write
those profound thoughts
like we did when we were 14

Decisions, decisions...

I know my decisions are made in heaven before I ever make them, but I have a few coming up that I need serious help on. Seriously. Ok, I know God gave me my job, at least for this time, I can't leave it before the end of the school year. I love the kids, they love me, they need me there, the class literally can't function without me there.

But, Africa needs me. Or maybe I need Africa more than Africa needs me. I need the kids, the love, the atmosphere. They need what I can do, what I can bring. Maybe I could even work with special needs kids there.

And then there is Brazil, my love, my favorite country, my real home on earth, where I would be so at home. But maybe Brazil is not on my plate for this year? No, it is. Rio. Without a doubt.

But my kids!!! The kids at my school!!! I must at least finish this school year, right?

Anyhow, I will have a nice weekend starting tomorrow and get to see some of my Iris friends and Bob Jones (the prophet, not of BJU) will be speaking. Maybe things will sort themselves out there. Yeah. So I'm off to church soon for a prayer meeting. They are always awesome times when God comes. He is soooooo good!!! I love Him so much!

So I am not going to be like my sister and agonize for months over this. Give it up to God, that is it. Lord, show me the way!

Makua Songs online!!

I finally got my mp3 player connected to the computer and got some recordings I made in Mozambique off of it!!! I have now posted a few songs in Makua online!! Yay!! The first is "Yesu Hana Ekuro" (better known as the "Ehi, Ehi, Ehi" song, except I have the Makua version, so its not that language)
The second is "King of the Jungle" in Makua or "Hopanka Matchi Othene".
The third is "Cavo, Cavo, Cavo"
The fourth is a Bible verse song, from Hebrews, but I can't remember the verse... and I don't even know the words!
And the fifth song is John 3:16 in Makua. "Moloku ha fenta Athu"

These were all recorded in Pemba on my mp3 player, nothing formal, so the sound is ambient. Elder who helps with village feeding graciously recorded them for me so that I could learn some songs to do kids' ministry in Makua for extended outreach (but then we went to Makonde villages...)

Oh Jesus help us

Oh Jesus Help Us, help us, your people, the church. We need you, we need Unity. We need to be the One perfect spotless, blameless bride that loves so strongly it has no room to hate, only room to love. We need to agree to disagree on some things, and agree to agree to love each other stronger than we hate.

I am brought back to my Georgia friend Derek's wise insight that he would not criticize any other ministry. Live above criticism. Live above, love above it. I hate finding web pages and books written about the evils of other christians and that they are an "apostasy" and "blasphemy". Geesh, doesn't satan do enough damage to us? do we really have to eat one another's flesh?

This was brought about because I was reading a blog about how Heidi and all these other people (John Arnott, Todd Bentley, Benny Hinn, Seventh Day Adventists, Bahai faith, Catholics, Scientologists, Creflo Dollar, etc) and how bad they all are and how they are not Christian. While I have to agree on a few points, that people who are Scientologists or Bahai are not Christians, I must disagree with 99% of this website/blogsite. Why spend so much time tearing others down? It just doesn't make sense. What on earth DO you believe in if you demonize so many people? Do you even love anyone? Do you even realize that the people you write about are just people too?

People who run ministries are just that, people. They make mistakes, they all sin, JUST LIKE YOU AND ME!!! Haha, what freedom in that! We all sin, we all mess up! I don't like it that people devote so much time to tearing apart the very body that they belong to.

That said, I responded to some questions one of them had on a blog that they were asking of Heidi. I could actually answer almost all of them based on common sense and being in Pemba and hearing her teaching. So I spent awhile responding and said I had been there, and heard her speak alot. The comments are moderated!!!!! Unbelievable!!! My comment didn't get posted, needless to say!!! They won't even let the other side in!!! So much for bloggers being the new journalistic revolution and being less biased than the so-called "liberal media".
Then I read their "comment posting rhetoric" and it says "1. We do NOT promote false doctrines. You may question our premise but if you link to websites that promote false doctrines that link will be edited out. We also do not promote comments that endorses false teachers. “Imposters will grow worse and worse, deceiving, and being deceived” 2 Timothy 3:13."

So therefore my comment, which answered their questions about Heidi, was not posted because it endorsed that which they are trying to destroy. However, I am glad that Heidi and Iris and I have Jesus' love which no one can take away!!

I leave you with a quote from Leeland's song "Tears of the Saints":

Even churches have forsaken
Love and mercy
May we see this generation
In its state of desperation
For Your glory


Yes, Jesus, we want You more than anything else. More than anything else!

Moz History (in brief)

I just finished reading "The Winds of Havoc" by Adelino Serra Pires, a Portuguese immigrant to Mozambique, who ran hunting safaris there for many years until Frelimo came to power. The book presented me with a fascinating history of Mozambique, but not the type that comes from history books. He presents it as an autobiography of his own life mixed in with how what is now written (or not written) in history books has shaped Africa.

I was intrigued to find out that Frelimo had its start in the far north of Moz, actually based in Tanzania, and it had its first major rebellion in Mueda. I went to Mueda, I loved Mueda. It was chilly there and beautiful! It was also dark and violent. I had been told that the war hadn't gone that far north, which is true, Renamo never got quite that far. Mueda and Mocimboa da Praia and further north to the Rovuma River has been a Frelimo stronghold since pre-independence.

However, en route to Mueda we were warned not to go far off the road to use the bush latrine because of landmines still there. We stayed near the road. Very close.

I also was fascinated to hear about all the fabulous big game that used to populate Moz. Adelino traveled to Beira and spoke about how beautiful it was, and then how he saw it near the end of the war, and it was not looking so great. Now it is just a shell of what it used to be. From the disused soccer field near the church we worked at to the old style portuguese buildings with bullet holes in them and left to ruin by the elements, I saw just a shell of what it used to be.

I also read a bit about the re-education camps, which I have only heard of in brief. I know that Frelimo dissidents were sent to the far northwest, to Lichinga and Niassa Province, to camps to be re-educated there. They also sent the sick and disabled there. There were work camps, a la typical Marxist Communist regimes (gulags in Russia). Sad story of the beautiful country with so much possibility.

I wish there were a simple solution, but for a country ravaged by drought, floods, war, and communism, there is not any one simple solution. Kudos to those working in Maputo, its good enough there and in some of the southern beach towns. But the bush-bush and the north, like Pemba, are far behind. My heart still is breaking for the people of Moz, of Africa in general as well. What will become of Moz? Will it ever become "developing" again, or will it remain in this "underdeveloped" state that it was brought down to after independence.

O que vai ser a historia do Mozambique? O que vai ser minha historia em Africa, em Mozambique? Ninguem sabe. Ninguem sabe. Deus sabe, somente Deus pode ajudar.

(from top to bottom, the photos are of: ruined building that a family still lives in next to a soccer field, also in shambles. a little girl in Mueda, children are the hope of Mozambique. the treacherous road from Mueda, elephants still haunt these remote places, but I didn't see any in 2 1/2 months in Moz. the last photo is from the road on our magnificent Beira trip, somewhere in Moz, ruined buildings, the typical landscape was huts with a few ruined buildings every few hundred km.)

Weekends #2

It seems my weeks are too busy to post during the week, so my second "weekend projects" post is actually not about projects. This past weekend I actually got out of town to visit 2 friends I met in Moz, actually, even better, 2 of my Mozambican roommates!!

It is just so good to be able to see people from Moz again to be reassured that I am not crazy when I say I want to go back. To share my feelings with them about coming back here and re-integrating with society, about hating being heralded as some sort of hero for going. I have had people start telling me how awesome my sacrifice was for going there, for giving up so much, but I have not sacrificed anything I feel! I sacrificed my job, God got me a better one now! (no, not better, just easier!) I sacrificed my family and got my Moz family who I try so hard to keep in contact with. I sacrificed the kids I cared for and cared about, God gave me Carlito and Sabina in Moz to love on, and now I have an entire classroom!

It is no sacrifice. It doesn't even matter! That was one thing that we discussed this weekend, that if we want more of God, we have to give up some things. We have to give up some things, but we gain so much more! The sacrifices amount to nothing compared to the all-surpassing greatness of knowing Christ!

I love my Moz family, I love my American family, I love my soon-to-be-Brazilian family! I love it that I have God with me and on my side and that He loves me more than anyone in my "families". I also love how He makes us wait sometimes for things we really want. Its been over 2 years since I went to Brazil last, and here I am, going back in a few months. Praise you Jesus, my desires are being fulfilled.

And in 2 weeks, I get to go and see one of my Moz friends for the 3rd time plus another Moz friend who is coming up from my old home in GA to visit! Yay! Fellowship with people who understand missions and Moz and Iris and everything is so sweet. I actually met a guy here, locally, who has been to South Africa on a mission trip for 6 months, and could just share about Africa and missions with him! That is so cool! Now just to meet another Latino-phile missionary here!

Weekend projects...

Ah, today was a snow day, extending the weekend to a three-day weekend. I wish I could've worked today, but the snow day allowed me to work on making some puppets. I'm working on making puppets to take to Brazil for kids ministry, and then, when I return to Africa, I will take them as well. Today I started 9 puppets, and have finished 4 or 5 of them.

Yesterday and Saturday I spent quite a bit of time stuck at home with no car, so I sewed. I'm working on making these baby kimonos and blanket sets and dresses for little girls that will be sent to the Dem. Rep. of Congo (DRC). The dresses are for orphans sponsored through Global Fingerprints, a part of Touch Global (the Evangelical Free Church missions arm). They have about 700 orphans that are sponsored there, which is many many more than last June when they had only 40 orphans sponsored! About 15% of kids in that region in the Congo are orphaned from Aids and war.

The baby layettes also go to the DRC with EFC mission, to Tandala Hospital in the northwest region of the Congo. My prayers go with the things I sew, that the kids may know Jesus in the midst of war and Aids ravaging the country.

My heart also goes out to the Congo. I desperately want to go there, almost as much as I want to go to Brazil and Moz. There is so much need there, I have seen some poverty in Africa, but the Congo is still in the midst of violent uprisings in various places and it is still not safe to live there. My heart breaks for Africa, cry the beloved continent.

The extra mile

Back when I was living in DC, I had a babysitting job at a mother's Bible study. Me and a few other ladies, older ladies, all Philippino immigrants, watched 10-15 kids for a few hours while their busy mothers had some time to study God's word and fellowship.

One week, one of the ladies went the extra mile. She had realized that the kids usually had really long fingernails, their mothers were too busy to cut them, so she spent the morning clipping the restless toddlers' nails. All of the kids were well-groomed by the end. She just saw a really small need and filled it, went the extra mile for these kids, and helped out their mothers.

This week at school, we had some extra breakfasts leftover on Friday, and the teacher usually lets each kid take an item at snacktime. I've realized that some of the kids are really hungry by snacktime, so they are all glad to get a bowl of cereal or bagel and juice.

The teacher discreetly put all the leftover snacks after the class had taken what they wanted into one student's backpack. She knows the father left the mother earlier this school year, left her with no job, 3 kids, and two of them are special needs kids, and $200. (what a jerk...) Since the teacher knows this, she often puts the extra snacks in this student's backpack. He comes into school with them for snack often. Not just her, but the other aides in the classroom do it too. She goes the extra mile, knowing there is a huge need for this kid, and helps out.

In Georgia, when I was having a yard sale to raise money to go to Africa, I encountered so many people looking for things for other people. One lady was sending toiletries and clothes to her family and friends back in Haiti, which had just been hit by a bad hurricane.

Another one was a special ed teacher, taught sixth grade, and she was picking up clothes for her students. She knew exactly what they would like to wear and what they wouldn't wear. Wow. That is an awesome teacher. The kids in that county usually lived in lower-class families, sort of country people, and she knew her students needed new clothes, so she filled the need.

I am just inspired by things like this. Seeing small needs right around us, and stepping in and filling them. I know lots of the kids in my classroom have needs, some more dire than others, so I am just looking to see who needs a hug or a smile every day. I want to go the extra mile for these kids and just love them like Jesus would.

Welcome back to "normal"

Over 2 months past Mozambique, I finally feel like I am fitting back into normal life.

I worked at my job the whole week, and I love my job. I'm getting to know the kids in the classroom I'm in and some of the adults I work with. I've learned the ropes of the school, and its good.

Then I'm also meeting new people around here (wait, other people outside of my high school live in connecticut?). I went to a prayer meeting and then we went out and told people about Jesus in the mall. That was fun, and I'm getting to know some people who are on fire for God here. Its good.

I've been taking a modern dance class, too, and so I had that, and just doing completely normal things like hanging out at church and with friends. Anyhow, its 2 months past Moz and life is getting back to normal. Its not that I don't think about the Mozambican babies I love, I do think about them, often, and miss them. But I also have found kids here who are just as needy as them. The kids who get no love at home and whose dads left just this year. Oh, my heart breaks for them just as much as my little mozambican babies.

Portrait of Love

Last night at a church-ish meeting (not really a service, but people who love God meeting together...) we were wrapping up with prayer, but rather than a nice quiet benediction, God came in and we prayed for awhile for those in our communities and cities and around the world who are enslaved by the commercial sex trade, be it in strip clubs, brothels, or those kids who are abused to make porn. I had started to paint a picture of a girl who was sex trafficked awhile ago, maybe last summer, but i lost the photo in the shuffle of moving and africa. so because of that meeting last night, I felt like I needed to paint her, to paint the faceless child who has been trafficked and abused and raped night after night. I just asked God what she would look like, and this is her.

She is young, but hardened after a year or so, she doesn't remember, of living in a very dark world, forced to remain inside the brothel all day, for fear that the authorities might find her and expose her pimps. She looks like she might cry, but is too hardened to cry. And she is scared. She came a long way from her home in hopes of a better life and to make money to send home to her family.

Those dreams faded fast, and so did all her other dreams. She needs to learn how to dream again. She needs to learn how to hope. She needs freedom, she needs rescue, she needs a voice. She needs Jesus.

see www.love146.org for how to help her.

The Junk From America

the junk from America

gets pieced into houses

withering cardboard, splintery wood

as junk trucks haul the land

back and forth

across the river

across the dust

to desire anything else would be treason

contemplating the economics

of frivolous tourist entertainment

because the must

live in shacks of tarp and cardboard

dust flying in their eyes

caked with makeup from the dance

and afterwards

the junk dries up and out

mickey mouse tire heads

leave little trails of sand in yonke

leaving again behind the rest

of everyone I knew down there

The Junk from America Revisited in the Amazon

The curse of America brought upon us

Of smoking and plastic and the things they tossed

Watching for progress from a cheap mp3 player

We’ll never get there

We’re always so far

What took you so long?

They always cried waiting.

Waiting for redemption from the other side.

Waiting for fewer plastic bags

To contaminate.

Waiting for less pollution

The trees filter the air.

Clean and green

We always knew it was here.

The Junk From America The Third: Africa's Story

Piling up endlessly in villages underneath

The reaches of poverty's grasp

Where we don't know what rich and poor are

Where we all have TVs

The ones that we see in the junkyard

the ones we see and scrap

the ones that we eat from

and live from

The junk from America we all are poisoned by

Trash triumphs over animals

Forgetting how the pristine jungle roads used to look

The Coke cans litter the dirt

and we can't understand how

the houses

and brooms

and buckets

are from the earth

but the Coke can lies on the dirt

But it's not theirs, its the junk we all dispose of

That becomes their treasures

Their treasures that they live on

rather than the land

rather than the earth that gives them life

rather than the polluted streams, the desert's reams of paper-like

reeds flowing up over the edge

engulfing the endless bushveld and the dusty hills

The trash that ends up in babies' mouths

eating used batteries

leaking bluish grimy paste

translates to their eyes

their eyes that never go away

haunting the ones who dare to care

How we all turn an eye away

trash disposal we count on weekly

recycling what is toxic, what is toxic here

lives on in Africa, lives on in innocent lives

bombarded with trash, filling homes and filling land

we can't take it away forever, but Africa seems like forever away

we don't seem to know that people live there

People just like us

People who live and die and have children who like to play

With trash we always manage to send their way.

The Junk From America #3 inspired by a news report from BBC in which Greenpeace (i am not advocating for them, it is just news... can we all be grown up and not think i am a greenpeace activist now?) found that TVs that are to be recycled from the UK, actually usually get sent to Africa and fill up landfills there, and people dismantle the TVs, computers, and other electronics, poisoning themselves in the process, to get out certain valuable metals to re-sell for pennies.
The Junk From America #1 is from Mexico, I was in Juarez at that point, and the second version is from being in the Amazon in Brazil, in Manaus.

Failure, Fire, and Facebook

Nearly two months removed from Mozambique, I feel like a complete failure. I am just being honest here, I feel like a failure in so many ways, and I have spent the past 2 days trying to figure out what is going on inside of me that is causing me to act out, to lash out, to be angry again, to be agitated, and annoyed at everyone and everything.

As time passes, Mozambique seems less and less real, sometimes it seems like it didn't even happen. It is too easy to go about my day like "normal" how I used to, and forget to consciously think about Jesus and about His love and about everything that I learned in Moz. It is so easy to forget those things because I am no longer in an atmosphere where everyone is always talking about God, even at church, it seems like we talk about Him like He can't even hear us, like He isn't even there. I miss talking to Him with other people, in a group, where everyone wants and needs Jesus more than anything.

I attended a group at a local church this past Thursday that was so refreshing. My mom convinced me to go, it met during her ladies' Bible study. I have gotten frustrated with their church services because it seems like the people there just want the worship leader or someone else to lead them into God's presence without them actually asking Jesus to come. The worship leaders are anointed, but the people seem too conscious of their surroundings to actually get lost in the Face of Jesus. Anyhow, this group was different.

The Thursday night young adults group was small, about 15 people, compared to the 2,000 that attend Sunday services. We just stood in a circle, some young people desperate to see Jesus, desperate to Have Him. Oh, it was so good, we just prayed and sang some, but mainly prayed, and Jesus came. He came, you could feel His presence, everyone in the room could feel the fire, it was hot, and one girl could see the smoke from His fire, could see Him working there, fanning the embers that have been dying for so long.

This prayer meeting helped me so much, I enjoyed it, I enjoyed being around other young people who are so passionate for God to come, who want Him more than anything, and who want revival to break out here in the cold Northeast. I have been looking for something like that here, as I feel so alone, I feel like there is no one who understands what it is like to have God come when you just ask Him to. People get so dependent on others to ask God to come, no one seems to bother to ask Him to come themselves.

And back to the beginning, why on earth do I feel like a failure? I don't know, haven't figured it out, maybe I won't ever. Maybe I can't even understand myself sometimes. I just know that sometimes it feels like Moz never happened.

In my house, my mom doesn't want to let any change in for anything. So she keeps on doing the same things, acting the same way, and I keep on reacting the same way I always used to. It is bad, it is not her fault, I need to change, but shouldn't she need to change too?

I think everyone should go to Africa. I keep bugging my mom to go with my dad when he goes to Uganda, God willing, this summer. She refuses to even pray about going. Maybe God will have to wake her up on that one, change has to come sometime. Why not now? Why not go to Africa?

I need to feed the fire inside me even more. I need to just spend more and more time with God, more time with Him than online, or in a store, or in the car. I need Him more than anything, and I know that He has changed me, He is still changing me, and if I am open to it, He will come, He will come with His fire again, and burn me up even more. And that is what I want.

And so, in conclusion, I've decided to fast from facebook for Lent. Yes, sounds weird, but last year I fasted from gum, and I really did stop chewing it, it stopped being a habit. Facebook is a bad habit, I go on and check it almost automatically everyday, like I check my email. Usually its just for a minute or two, but sometimes I get on it for awhile, and I should be spending this time doing more productive things. I'm hoping that Lent breaks this habit. Its only 40 days. I did 80 days without it in Moz.

Praying for a little more fire.

The not-so-perfect children

As I read about the Duggar family who have 18 kids of their own, I cannot help but think, "why not adopt some kids?" Why have 18 of your own kids (or 10, or 14...) why not adopt? There are so many kids in the foster care system here in the US, as well as kids in orphanages all over the world who need families, why is it necessary to keep having more of your own kids? Oh wait, they don't want to adopt because what if they got a kid with emotional or behavioral problems. What if they got a kid with a disability, or they didn't discover that they had a hearing problem until a year later? What if the kid they adopted had RAD (Reactive Attachment Disorder) or ADHD?

Then their perfect model of a family would be completely blown. I truly doubt the capability of this mother or 18 since she has no special-needs children. Her kids are perfect, they all play the violin from age 4 onwards. Of course she can have more and more and more of those types of kids. But what about what the Bible says about caring for orphans? In the Bible, God says "be fruitful and multiply" once, but God says multiple times, in the Old Testament Law and in the New Testament to care for orphans. The easy thing is to multiply, anyone can have 18 kids, but to take in an orphan, most of the time with some sort of special need (be it emotional, behavioral, or physical) is a bit harder, so God has to tell us quite a few times. Or we might turn a blind eye.

I think of how difficult it was at times to take care of the kids I nannied for, mainly the youngest who had just been adopted when I started working for this family, and I wonder how other families would have coped with that. How would the Duggars be able to homeschool 18 kids if they had a 3 year old who had no communication skills besides screaming, biting, pinching, and kicking? What would they do with a kid who wouldn't sit down and couldn't hear you if you told him to do so? And didn't know what the word "sit" meant? How would they cope?

I think Americans in churches need to re-think how they view families. The "perfect" family of angelically dressed and behaved children may not be what God has called us to do. He has called us to look after the orphans and widows. Maybe that means adopting a kid that is a different race from us or one who is hard to take care of. I admire the parents of the kids I nannied for so much. They knew that God calls us to look after the orphans, and they are doing just that.

Open My Eyes

While in Mozambique, we heard a story from Mama Aida, about how she realized that she was blind spiritually, and so she asked God to open up her eyes. When her eyes were opened, she saw the spiritual poverty in the western church, and now she travels around the western world for 1/3 of the year, even though she would rather just spend time in the garbage dumps and villages in Mozambique.

Praying "Open up my eyes, God" is a dangerous prayer. Because He will open up our eyes to see things that we didn't see before. And once our eyes are opened, we cannot not act upon what we have seen. When we are made aware of needs around us, we have no choice but to act and resolve them, to act right where we are, even if our hearts are crying to be in another location.

Since then, I have been praying for God to open up my eyes. I have asked Him to open up my eyes to the needs around me, here in the US. My eyes have been opened to needs in my own church, from the girl who has a brain injury from an accident a year ago, to the single mom of two preschoolers, there are needs right in front of me, and I know I must act upon them.

My eyes were opened this week, even more. I just found out where the local elementary school is, it is about a mile from my house, and I have lived most of my life right here, I just never knew where it was. And I applied for a job there, and got it. When I went and visited the classroom, I thought, well, maybe it will go terribly and I won't take the job, and still be able to go to Brazil this spring for a few weeks.

The visit went extremely well, and my heart is now breaking for the needs of the kids in the classroom. I will be working with a boy with autism, as well as a few other kids who have special needs in the classroom. My heart is breaking for them, for their hard home lives, and difficulties at school. My eyes have been opened, and I cannot shut them.

I took the job, and have, in turn, given up my desire to go back to Brazil this spring for a few weeks. I realize that I can only go for 1 week, at least, until June, and that I may not get back to Pemba as soon as June. But I know that God has given me the desire to go back to Brazil this year, as well as Pemba, and He will make it happen.

But first, I must act upon the needs right here in my hometown. And not shut my eyes again to the broken and needy in my own neighborhood.

How different our lives become
We strive and strive to be the one
To bring revival, to see the change
Our eyes are opened and we see the world

We see the world in the downtown street kids
We see with different eyes the ones we used to shun
We see the world in autistic faces
We see them different now, as children of God

Our eyes were opened to only reveal
The college students we are, lost and afraid
The humble beginnings we all have made
We try to attain this resounding cry
To make it, to make it, we live, we die

Sudan, Africa, the black faces say it
London, the UK, our eyes are open
Sao Paulo, Brazil, the last shall be first
Middle of nowhere, USA, we all will be there

So the journey just begun we can't stop right now
The revival just starting
The fire's flames now engulfing
The last of the enemy's old glances
The last of our dead-old-self's chances
Oh, we are new, oh we are new
Open eyes are a new thing to behold


(so not my best poetry, but the important thing is that i am writing. if i don't write something, i fear i will lose the ability completely.)

Extended Outreach

I have, until now, avoided talking about the extended outreach trip that I took in Mozambique. Basically, we spent 5 days in 2 different towns in the far north of Mozambique, showing the Jesus film, praying for people, doing kids programs, and ministering to the women and men in the community as well.

The outreach was very hard for me and most of my team members. Our Mozambican leader got very sick, I was feeling sick to my stomach most of the time, and a few other people were feeling sick on and off.

But God was faithful through it all. At first I could not bear to think about the outreach, all its frustrations, and how I felt and acted on it. I However, I have worked through some things and see that God was working through it all.

I had the privilege to meet this amazing 9 year old girl, Graça, who is the pastor's daughter of an Iris church in one of the towns. She was beautiful in so many ways. She had Jesus' love in her, and was able to help out my team so much. We were in a town that spoke Makonde, not Makua, so we had no translators. Graça spoke Makonde and Portuguese, so she helped us translate for the kids' program until we could get a church member to help. She is the future of the church in her town. Jesus, please let her grow more and more in you.

I saw God's mercy poured out to the desperate one day as we were going around praying with people in their houses. As we were headed back to our camp, a boy comes running up to me and the 3 Mozambicans that were with me, and asked us to come and pray for his aunt. She had sent him running to catch us. She had a heart problem that caused pain and the hospital in Tanzania couldn't help her. Tanzania's hospitals (and everything...) are apparently better than in Moz, and Tanzania was relatively close to here, we were far north. So we prayed for her and told her about how Jesus told people in the Bible that their faith made them well. We told her that her faith made her well. Her pain left and she was healed! She was so grateful to us and wanted to pay us, but we told her to thank Jesus and not us, and to trust in Jesus in return.

After having tried twice and for many hours to go to another village to show the Jesus film, we went with a backup plan and showed it in another village. This village had no evangelical church, and was mostly animistic Catholic. We showed the Jesus film and 2,000 people showed up for it! As I was walking around the perimeter of the crowd during the film with some friends, our whispers and footsteps were the loudest sounds other than the film. The crowd was silent and attentive! It began to rain at the end of the film, so half the people left, but we still had many people come forward for the altar call. That was the best night of outreach and it wasn't in our plans, but it was in God's plans!

From Heidi

From Heidi Baker's teaching in Mozambique... Just a few bits...

"this is why I'm getting wrecked. I saw you guys, I saw you guys, like shaking nations, I saw tribes of laid-down lovers that were wholly given that were moving in their destinies"

"there's gonna be this radical tribe of nationals and internationals that are gonna feel the wind of God to like transform a nation or a city and I see like tribes of people coming together with these gifts that are wildly wonderful and this radical intimacy where they're like so full of Holy Spirit and they're so in the presence that literally God downloads things to their hearts when they're in the secret place but they're not the kind of people that just go “Whoa!” and then don't do it, they're the kind of people that get toasted" (unfortunately my video cuts out at this point...)

"He [Jesus] was so desperate for this planet to be so transformed he said Take Me, I'll spill my blood. So, here we go. What does it look like for you to be desperate? Would you be willing to give your life? Would you be willing to give your life? Some people are literally called to give their life, to spill their blood.

I think of the times the katanas have come after us, the stones have come after us, the guns, the jail, the throwing against walls, the knives in our throats. I'm thinking of those times and I'm thinking of the privilege of those times. You never forget the privilege of that kind of opportunity to say Yes.

And though you dont just jump in there on purpose, you are so desperate for righteousness to hit the planet, you literally offer your life, you offer it as a living sacrifice, or you offer it as All sacrifice to the living God, and you say take it, here I am, take it God, I offer you myself, and I say just take me because I am desperate, thirsty, hungry, for righteousness to hit this planet"

Wow, get wrecked for God today.

Broken People, Everywhere

As I sat in church today, I looked around at the growing congregation, and realized that the congregation was not growing with "perfect" people or even people who have their lives together. Most of the people there are pretty broken people-- the lady who just lost her job, the single mother with two preschool age kids whose husband left them when the little one was a baby. The girl who is younger than me and has a 2 1/2 year old daughter, but even still, she attended church since she was a young teenage. I found grace for her this week because her parents split when she was young, and she is still looking for a Father's love. But she worshipped God beautifully today, and I see her heart is changing. Then there is the lady whose ex-husband is in jail, and her two teenage sons have aspergers, she struggles to maintain some control of them. We can point our fingers and say "Wow, they screwed up" and we can say things like "God hates divorce" but we are all still broken people. The entire church is made up of broken people, little fragile lives offered to God, to the King of the Universe. We come to church every Sunday saying "Here is my broken little life, patch it up, Lord, so that I can share your mercy to those around me." And that is what the church is supposed to look like.

We are the John the Baptists

We are the John the Baptists

We are the radical laid-down, John the Baptist lovers

who eat rice and beans instead of locusts and honey

who don't bathe for days because they are in the bush

proclaiming Jesus to remote villages,

saying “Prepare your hearts! The King is coming!”

We are the John the Baptists, the relative of Jesus

the one who gives up his everything for God, even his very life.

We are the John the Baptists, baptizing with water and fire.

We have the fire that John didn't have,

We have the fire burning in us,

burning our hearts up so much we can't seem to contain it.

We have to sing it out, we have to dance it out,

our every cell screams “Jesus!”

Every fibre in our body shouts aloud:

“Make ready your hearts! Jesus is coming!”

Our souls sing with the angels when the children come home.

Our war cries call forth hordes of angels around our caminhao

They come with blazing torches and shining swords,

releasing the Holy of Holies here on earth,

even in the sun and dust and sweat.

We are the John the Baptists, the

“Why on earth would you do that?” ones.

The ones asked “Aren't there Bible schools you could go to in America?”

“Why go all that way?”

Why come all this way? Why NOT?

Why not, when God, the ruler of heaven and earth, calls you

in the middle of the night with dreams of African children.

Why not go when God shuts every other open door,

but refuses to shut the door labeled

“Mozambique.”

Why on earth are we here?

We're here to be the voice in the desert, the voice in the bush

the voice calling out to the very farthest reaches of creation,

the farthest reaches of civilization

“Jesus is coming! The king is coming for His bride!

Come all you who are thirsty and hungry,

Come to the wedding feast of a lifetime, the wedding feast of all eternity.”

I wrote this in Pemba. Its really for Harvest School students, but anyone can benefit!

New Old

This is my NEW, old blog. I imported my old posts here, in case they look familiar. I decided to change the title of my blog because I like it better. And I think I have finally decided on a name to call my updates and newsletters, rather than the generic "News from Monterrey (or wherever I've been since then)" that I have used. Some people use clever names, like the Browns, missionaries in Brazil, call their updates "The Brown Paper" and its usually printed on tan paper about the Browns. Cute. But I've decided to call mine "A Journey to God's Heart" and just put when and where on the side, rather than basing it on the name of the place I go.
Its no longer about going cool places or traveling alot, its about getting to God's heart and hearing where He is leading. Wherever He leads, I go. In my life, that will be many cities, towns, bush villages, remote rivers, countries, and continents. It doesn't matter anymore the places I go. Mozambique to me, is of the same importance as Connecticut or Georgia. Its all the same importance to God. Poverty and riches don't matter, we're all God's children.

Human

Wash the darkness from their skin

They’re not human yet

So poor like dirt from the earth

To be a little more than a charity case.

Is the earth alive?

All the people, all over the world?

If yes, Julia, they are, then why

Why do we treat such pigs as human

And humans as such less than that?

If we played the same hunger games,

If we always remained the same,

Then we’d all be inhuman.

For what makes us human?

Ability to talk, to walk to reason?

For those who can’t, are they naught?

Are they really inhuman?

The dark, the mute, the deaf, the lame,

The slow, the blind, the old, the weak?

We are more than the words we know how to speak.

We are more than the angels we reason fly above us.

We are more than the gravel we walk

Whether dry or wet beneath.

We are.

We are.

With skin as dark as pavement

We walk.

Into the sun to bleach our hair

We walk.

Burn our faces,

All human.

As we move,

All human.

We can learn these truths.

From little ones we learn these truths.

Ok, so I am posting this again. It has more meaning now that I have actually been to Africa. its kinda funny how i paint and write about things before i experience them, and then go on to experience them, and then they have more meaning. por exemplo, I found myself inside one of my paintings while i was in Africa. pretty cool.

Muito Obrigada, Kushukuru, Asante Sana, Thank you!!!!!

A Journey to God’s Heart Mozambique, Africa, fall 2008 Iris Ministries

A journey always begins with a step. A step is always a matter of faith. A step taken without faith does not get you far at all. You may be tempted to turn back if you have no faith that the step you just took is leading in the right direction.
For me, this step to Africa required immense faith. Without the utmost faith that I was supposed to be there, it would have been very easy to call it quits upon arrival in Mozambique. With power outages, water outages, long and hot rides on the back of an open truck, camping in the bush, and 110 degree temperatures, you have to really know that God brought you there to stay in Africa and enjoy it.
Not only did I enjoy my time there, I loved it! I loved the classes, our worship times were very sweet times of worshipping God and coming before Him as a group of people earnestly seeking His face. The teaching we got in class was immediately needed for the real world ministry we were doing at that time in Mozambique.
We received teaching on being willing to go to the darkest places to bring the gospel, and, simultaneously, we had outreaches to some of the darkest places I have ever seen. We learned how it is important to love the people who are truly unlovable- the really dirty kids, kids with scabies, kids who steal your waterbottles. We saw how important it was to have God’s love for these kids, because we could not love the kids with our own human capacity. We played with the dirtiest little kids I have ever seen, we gave medical care to the ones with scabies, and we gave away our water bottles before they could steal them. We learned how to die to ourselves and our own desires and truly put the needs of others first.
On outreaches in the town of Pemba and in villages within a few hours’ drive, we saw God work many miracles. In one town, we had hordes of kids following us around, singing “Hallelujah, Hosanna!” in their loudest voices. The kids followed us to the children’s program we had there, and followed us the next day to church. Kids are the future of the church, so it was a blessing to see the entire church packed with attentive kids that Sunday.
On the other side of that town, before showing the Jesus film, I had the opportunity to pray for Selma, a deaf and mute teenage girl. I was translating for a few of my team members. We prayed for Selma for about ten minutes and her ears were opened! She began responding to the music, and was able to hear the entire Jesus film! Her sister was doubtful of the healing, and kept asking Selma if she could really hear. After the film, we continued to pray for her, and she began to speak, saying “Thank you Jesus” in Portuguese. Selma’s entire family also came to Christ, which was perhaps the biggest miracle of all that night!
When we showed the Jesus film in one village, nearly 2,000 people showed up! The village had no evangelical church; it was nominally Catholic and Muslim. The people there were so hungry to learn more. As some team members and I walked around the perimeter of the crowd, our footsteps sounded loud compared to the silence of the crowd. Everyone was completely absorbed in the movie. Almost every night while we were in other villages we showed the Jesus film. Sometimes only 20 people would show up, but it was far more likely that 500-1,000 people would come and see the film. Many people came forward to receive Christ and the local pastor and other church leaders were able to meet them to follow up with them later. We saw many of the people we prayed for at these meetings come to church on Sunday.
Thank you so much for all of your prayers! As we brought the light into very remote and dark places, we needed your prayers so much. The Makua people, the people group we were mainly working with, only have four books of the Bible translated into their dialect. They have not heard the gospel in their own language before. What a privilege it was to be able to share Jesus’ love with them and bring them into the kingdom of God. What a privilege it was to partner with the work that Iris Ministries is doing in Africa.
I have taken a huge step on my journey to God’s heart, but the journey has only just begun. What is the next step? I am back in Connecticut for a few months, living with my parents. I feel God wants me to return to Brazil, to visit the two bases Iris Ministries has there. I will be going there, most likely in late March through April, to Rio de Janeiro and Sao Paulo. After that, I have felt strongly that I am to return to Africa to gain more training and experience and work under Iris there. As of now, it looks like I will be returning to Pemba in about six months for long-term service there with Iris, working on the base, developing some new projects to reach out to the community and to train the older kids who live in the children’s home Iris runs.
Thank you so much for all your support and prayers! I could not have done it without your help! God has listened to your prayers, be encouraged this New Year to pray in complete faith in God that He is our good Father and that He will respond. How amazing it is that He always hears us!
Please continue to pray for:
Selma: the deaf-mute girl whose ears and mouth were opened. Pray for her family to stay strong in Jesus
Iris Ministries’ children’s home, some kids to pray for: 17 year old Onesia, who is already a leader in many ways, that she will grow into more of a woman of God. 7 year old Sabina and 3 year old Carlito, two precious little ones, that God may become more and more real for them, even at a young age.
Villages we worked in: that the churches there would reap a large harvest from the work we did
Heidi and Rolland Baker, the founders of Iris: Pray for Rolland’s health as he is still recovering from malaria.
The students from the missions school: that we would be the matches to ignite the world with more fire and passion for God, in our home countries and all the countries that God has called us to minister in.
Direction for my life: that God would open up the right doors as I take the next step to return to Africa and Brazil with Iris Ministries.

In English, thank you all so much! In Portuguese, muito obrigada! In Makua, kushukuru! In Makonde, Asante Sana! God bless you all in 2009! Look forward to what God has in store for you this year!

-Emily Bair

to see a video I made of my time in Mozambique, go to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ldpo5MSjyLs (or you can also search on youtube for Iris, HS9, and my video will come up first… It’s called HS9 001)