Hope Slowly Restored

Sunday morning. 4am. Still dark. Cool. Baby’s snoring. Kids sleeping. Creeping quietly around the house. Checking off my mental to-do list: 

Coffee - check 

Baby’s bag - check 

Water - check

Extra (extra) water - double check 

Snacks - check

Candy for kids - I knew I forgot something! We’ll buy some on the way. 

Gifts - check

Offering - check 

Pastor Armando & his wife leading church worship

Finally ready. The clock glows in the kitchen - it’s only 4:50am. Phil’s English students, Gildo & Chale, silently come in the gate. The dogs know them so well by now, they don’t even bother getting up to greet them.

They quietly tap on the front door. As I try to open the door without any noise, I see little brown eyes peering out of a tiny crack behind the boys' door. Jadon must be up. 

Phil praying

We start the car, get organized, and scoop JoJo up out of bed. It’s time to get on the road. 

We pick up Pastor Antonio & Pastor Sitoe (si-toy). The sun is lazily coming out from behind the morning clouds. The road is clear with almost no traffic. 

The landscape changes from green and burnt orange to a hilly, lush jungle. Soon large mountains appear, various shapes and sizes. Steep inclines, more rolling hills. 

After only a short 2 hour drive, we pull into Ribaue, a small but beautiful town known for its fresh water. As we make a quick pitstop at the Mayor’s house (he happens to be Gildo’s uncle) for some gargantuan mangoes, we head another 30km outside of town. 

When we turn off the main road,  we meet an easy to navigate dirt road that feels like a highway. Within a few kilometers, we arrive at the church we are visiting for the first time. And a familiar sound filters through the open car windows:

‘Anda com Jesus

Anda com Jesus é bom.

Waytana Yesu

Pastor Armando leading prayer time with the guest pastors

Waytana Yesu orrera.’

(Walk with Jesus, It’s good to walk with Jesus) 

We are welcomed with warm handshakes and double kisses, and plenty of curious kiddos who have likely only heard stories about white people. 

As the church service begins, everything is perfect. The sounds of all the beautiful voices mixing together with the beating of the drum (an empty jerry can) bring small tears of thanks and joy to my eyes. 

After service we meet with the church family, and individual families. We talk at length about our vision and ask questions - some seem silly or redundant but each question and comment is met by thoughtful & patient responses that are invaluable. 

We learn about the struggles the families in this area face. We learn how the pastor of the church cares for 4 children who aren’t even his. We learn how divorce causes many families to completely abandon children. 

We learn about a girl who’s mother died just a few months ago and her father traveled to another province. He told the pastor that he’s already remarried and he doesn’t want her. 

We learn about a set of twins who are less than 2 months old. Their mother died a few weeks after child birth. 

They’re father wants  them but can’t provide a way to feed them so their aunt is trying to care for them. She can’t keep up with their feeding and needs help.

We learn that the community struggles to keep their children in school. The parents must farm land that is 8-10km from home (or farther) just to provide food for their families. 

They can’t leave their kids alone in the village and they don’t have schools near their farms. Parents express concern of how to solve this and ask for ideas. 

After we talk, we eat. We are always fed well but I can hardly get anything down. My mind races and I continue to mull over the conversations we just had. The solutions are never easy - trying to be creative & meet the needs of all the kiddos. 

Phil's English students, Gildo & Chale, traveled with us.

As we finish up, we pray and it’s time to get back on the road. How the sun is about to go down is beside me. We spent the whole day here? It felt like a few minutes. 

My heart aches for the kids we shake hands with and kiss goodbye. We make plans for future visits and arrange times to meet again regarding the twin babies. We discuss the other children the pastor is caring for and decide that though it’s difficult, the pastor is making it work.

Sunday school kiddos

We agree to provide support to the pastor - help with documents for school, school supplies & clothes. The pastor agrees to let us know if they can’t feed the kids at any time. 

We wave goodbye as our new family sends us off. The leaving part is always the hardest. We often want to stay and be with those who are doing the hard stuff. 

The day in and day out work of attending to the poorest of the poor in their community - this pastor and his wife get it. They truly understand real love. 

We arrive to the highway and start the journey home. So often, this is a great time of reflection and peace. But my heart was so touched by this community; it’s impossible to feel anything but sadness. My heart swells knowing the church is in excellent hands - a pastoral team that loves & shows it in action. 

As we climb into bed after an 18 hour day, I’m so fulfilled. I silently pray for the sweet kids we met and pray for God to keep the twins healthy until the family makes a decision about who can care for them. 

These are my favorite days for a reason. A little hope is restored for Mozambique and her future. 

Hugs,

Laura