Rachel's Reflections

Imagine driving out of town, the vehicle picking up speed along with an anticipation of the destination. Suddenly, you come to a screeching halt. The road is closed. You have to find a new route to your destination and there are no detour signs, road maps, or anyone to help you navigate your way. You're on your own. That's what it felt like when I left Pemba and came to Nampula. No team leaders. No idea of how to meet Mwani people in a strange city. Yet the goal still is to share the Gospel with the Mwani. It felt like I was on my own. However, I've discovered there are others who have gone before me and left a path to follow. Last week, I walked down a narrow space between two walls and came out into a sandy yard. I greeted the six adults sitting under the mango tree. They brought me a chair and I introduced myself in Kimwani. A missionary friend had pointed out the Mwani home to me a few days before. They exclaimed at my Kimwani, happy to hear their own language in a city

The car bumped and rattled down the rough dirt road. The noise and chaos of the city fading behind me, replaced by fields, grass, trees, and bushes. Finally, I arrived at Mama Z's house. I saw her sitting on the edge of her cement porch with basins and buckets on the dirt in front of her. Ducking under some clothes hanging on the line, I sat down near her. She took a piece of clothing from the first basin of dirty, soapy water and rubbed it between her two hands, releasing the dirt. She transferred it to the next basin of less dirty water and then greeted me. "Mama Z, I brought that audio Bible you wanted," I said after the greetings were finished.  This was only my third time visiting Mama Z.  During my second visit, I had mentioned having audio Bibles in Kimwani and she had said she wanted one.  Mama Z stopped her washing, dried her hands, received the audio Bible with joy, and immediately pressed play. It went through the introduction before starting in Genesis. A neig

I feel like I've been here before. A sparsely furnished apartment on the second floor. A beautiful view of the odd-shaped mountains in the distance. A somewhat uncomfortable mattress on the bottom of a bunk bed in a small room.  Oh wait, I have been here before. One year ago my team evacuated to Nampula because of the insecurity near our houses in Pemba. Now I'm back in Nampula, under similar circumstances. My team leaders are on Home Assignment and it's not wise for me to stay in Pemba as a single lady. I've cried. I've laughed. I've met many new people. I've clutched the steering wheel with white knuckles because of the crazy traffic in town. Goodbyes in Pemba were hard and I've been welcomed with open arms by the missionaries in Nampula. On Sunday I ate lunch with several of them at a beautiful restaurant outside of town. I noticed a sign by the dam that said "Be Careful of Crocodiles." Nampula is my new home for the next three months. I'