Four weeks in Mozambique feels like a minute and a lifetime, simultaneously. The amounts of giggles and the number of times I’ve heard “mom,” make up a euphoric cloud that has been following me around, along with the cloud of jet lag that I never seemed to fully shake.
COVID has really jacked up my plans - we tried to take the kids to the beach my first week here and then the beaches were closed by the president, along with gyms or any other recreational activities. Closing the beaches seemed a little strange to me, as the beaches in Mozambique are not like those of Florida or California - few people are there to rest and relax. The majority of people at the beaches in Northern Mozambique are there for their own livelihood - to fish, find clams or just find their own lunch or dinner. We were blessed to have about 2 days at the beach, and we were honestly exhausted afterwards. The kids wanted to stay for another day or two to enjoy the AC and the change of environment. We made the most of our annual outing, and we were privileged to rest, watch a few movies, play with the kids, and enjoy some fresh fish.
Before we left for the beach, I was overjoyed to celebrate Marieta’s 13th birthday. She is such a sweet kid - loving, calmer than the others, quieter, and she definitely became a mama’s girl over the last 2 years. I know she has probably the hardest time when I am not here, only because she needs that daily affection and reassurance from the one she knows as her mama.
I don’t have a “favorite” child, but Marieta definitely makes my heart ache to come home. She makes me feel like she won’t be okay without me, even though we both know that is not true. She holds a special place in my heart. Most people dismiss her as less than because of her left eye - she is blind in her left eye - and has very limited vision in her right eye. But I know better…she is one of the smartest, most compassionate 13 year old girls I have ever met. She has a level of kindness that I have never experienced, a level of patience I desire to have, and a level of joy that makes me smile anytime I see her.
With the usual minor problems (and sometimes, major problems) in a 3rd world country, I had plenty of running around to do to fix documents, rectify problems and get back to being in good standing as far as the children’s home goes. There is always, always, always, ALWAYS something to do. In a world where paper is king, and almost nothing is digital, the running around and the number of offices and people that are involved to have a simple piece of paper is quite exhausting. But it’s always well worth the trouble.
Between the busy-ness and the running around, we found ways to fit good quality fun into our days, too. Whether it was swimming in the pool down the road, playing soccer outside, racing on the playground or just doing simple tasks like cooking meals together, each day was extremely special to me. It didn’t matter if it was plain old ordinary, I know we enjoyed certain moments every day, especially me!
We celebrated our youngest (and newest) kiddo’s birthday, Sara, last week. The way her eyes lit up was something I’ll never forget. The buzz in the house when a cake was brought home for her was almost too much for her to bare! We didn’t even make to dinner time and cake was eaten shortly after lunch.
All of the joyful and special moments are running through my mind as I write this. In less than 8 hours, I’ll be on a plane headed to Kenya, and then France and then the US. I will leave behind these little and big kiddos, who I adore. The ache in my chest and the thought of saying goodbye feels like a dull dagger being driven into my heart. I feel as though I’m toggling between two worlds and it has become exhausting for me. And let me just say - I know what here are thinking - this is a first world problem. And you’re right - it is.
I have the privilege to travel here and be here. And certainly, there are awful things going on in the world right now, and I have no right or reason to complain, but this living between two worlds is becoming impossible for me. I long for my kids here, for my family in the US, and to be in 2 places at once. However, when I am in Mozambique, the ache in my chest almost disappears because I know my family is behind me and they also want me to be here. They know my heart belongs in Mozambique but it is ripped out of my chest every time I have to leave.
And then what? Back to the normal daily ins and outs of working, trying to make a difference, while caring for J and Jo, trying to be a good house-mate to my brother and sister-in-law, be a good auntie to my niece, Hannah, and continue to prepare for an unknown future in this insane world.
Somehow, in all of the dancing along the line of these very different worlds, I find peace, solitude, joy, an enormous amount of gratitude, and my Savior. I have nothing to grumble or worry about and I hope that only humble thankfulness comes from my words and my heart. I am forever grateful for these precious 4 weeks that I’ve had with the kids, and I feel like it will never come to an end while it is also rushing to a close right before my very eyes.
Regardless of how I feel, I will be grateful for the time I’ve had this year. The future is unknown, and I don’t know when I will get to hug them, hold them again, but I have hope they are each in very good hands and are loved beyond any earthly measure.
