Rachel's Reflections

I turned the Wednesday Bible study into a homemade movie theater. We tied a white sheet to bamboo poles at the top of the living room wall. It hung down over the rough cement wall, reaching the dirt floor below. I set the small projector and speaker on a rusty bucket in the middle of the room. Everyone settled into their seats. A few people on chairs or the wooden bedframe, a few on the floor with small children filling in the gaps.  I pressed play.  Excitement and anticipation filled the room as the introduction for the Jesus Film played. The women around me all exclaimed at once when a woman carrying a jar of water on her shoulder appeared on the scene. I smiled internally. Carrying water is such an integral part of their lives, they appreciated seeing it from another culture. Scenes of Mary and the angel, Elizabeth, Jesus' birth, and the shepherds played out before us. At first, the women kept asking me who someone was, but as the film drew them in, they became quiet. Even the k

The first time the grandmother saw me, she thought I was the Red Cross coming to bring food to her family. Instead, I offered her something of far greater value. The Good News of the Cross of Jesus Christ. Wednesday arrived overcast and threatening rain. Around midday, it poured. Thirty minutes before leaving for the Bible study at Mama N's house I called the M believer that I had asked to go with me. She told me she didn’t want to risk the muddy, treacherous path in Chibubuare. She would go with me another day. God, should I still go?   Yes, this family is hungry for the Word of God. How can I deny it to them? I grabbed the Kimwani Bible and turned to leave, but decided to grab all of the booklets at the last minute. Wrapping them in a plastic bag in case it rained again, I placed them in my bag and walked out the door. As I descended the path I said a quick prayer. “Lord, I don’t know what I’m going to do or what I’m going to read. Please guide this Bible study today.” When I rea

How can one tiny culture blunder change the entire tone of a day? I laughed frequently with Mama R, Mama S, Mama F, and Maureen throughout Women's Day,  enjoying the most important day of the year for many Mozambican women . We took pictures, cooked, and dressed in our new capulanas.  We then ate our picnic of grilled chicken, potato salad, tomato rice, and the chocolate cake I had made for them.  At the end of the special day, I gathered all the things that I had brought to Mama R's house and went home with Maureen. Not twenty minutes later Mama R arrived at the back door, fuming. She yelled at me, telling me she did not like that I had taken her chocolate cake. In shock and confusion, I responded defensively. It was my cake and I wanted to give the leftovers to another friend. Of course, that made the situation worse. She glared and walked out with a humph. I turned and stared at Maureen. I understood the words, but not the cultural implications of what had happened. She did

In a culture where most men have two or more wives in different locations it is strange to find a man living with his only wife 24/7. It is even more unusual when that man is willing to lead his family in seeking the Truth as a seeker himself.  I arrived at Mama N's house Wednesday afternoon for our Bible study. Her husband, Papa N, came out to greet me first. The other family members gathered around with eager expectation. A hunger to learn more about God shone in their eyes. We all found a seat under the shade tree in their backyard, some on the woven mat, some on empty rice sacks, and one or two on the rocky ground. I opened the storybook to where we had left off the previous week. I read of Jesus' birth, childhood, miracles, and his riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. A teenage girl in the yard on the hillside above us started calling to someone in the yard below. I paused and looked up. She had no idea she had interrupted an important moment. Papa N asked her to be quiet an