Rachel's Reflections

The AIM Crisis Consultant Manager moved the status of the Pemba team up because of the situation in northern Mozambique. We are now in the orange zone. What does that mean for me? Green Zone = Relax           Yellow Zone = Be Alert                     Orange Zone = Be on High Alert                               Red Zone = Seek Safety Immediately This information in no way hinders my desire to return and share the Gospel with the Mwani people. It does, however, mean I need to be prepared when I go back. My counselor and I started discussing what it will take for me to live under such conditions. First and foremost God must be central to any plans I come up with or my plans will fall flat on their face. God's Word is a solid foundation and has never failed me, so I started thinking: What does the Bible say about...

Imagine walking down a grimy hospital corridor, the smell of dirt, blood, and urine hangs in the hot, humid air. You turn into a room with six beds and approach a young woman lying on one of the thin, plastic mattresses. A bundle wrapped in a patchwork of cloths is nestled at her side. You greet her and smile down into the precious face of her newborn baby boy. The instinct to protect and care for her baby is evident in the woman's eyes. She wants to do what's best for him. She keeps her son wrapped up in the patchwork of fabric as you drive her back home. But, within a week or two, the baby has a heat rash all over his body from being bundled up too much in the sweltering heat. --- I saw little babies with heat rashes many times in the community in Mozambique. Women would come to me and say "Look, my baby has a problem." I had to bite my tongue to keep from accusing the well-intentioned mothers. In August, I thought of a crazy compromise. I started learning how to cr...

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried. Quietly, patiently, lovingly, He replied. I pleaded, and I wept for a clue to my fate, And the Master so gently said, “Child, you must wait.”   “Wait? You say wait??” my indignant reply. “Lord, I need answers, I need to know why. ... “My future, and all to which I can relate Hangs in the balance, and you tell me ‘wait’? ... I heard this poem by Russell Kelfer when I was in my second year of college. I wrote it in my journal and have gone back to read it many times. It feels like this has been my exchange with God lately as I wait for an answer about my return date to Mozambique.   ... Lord I’ve been asking, and this is my cry: “I’m weary of asking: I need a reply!”   Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate As my Master replied once again, “You must wait.” So I slumped in my chair; defeated and taut And grumbled to God; “So I’m waiting, for what?” Why should I have to wait so long to receive a return date from the AIM office?...

What good can come from violent attacks and burned villages? Community. A few Mwani believers lived throughout the northern villages of Mozambique. Due to the attacks, the believers have now converged on Pemba. They gather for worship, Bible study, and fellowship on a regular basis. Gathering of Mwani believers What can be given to those whose daughters were kidnapped? Or to those who huddle on beaches because their homes were destroyed? A Community of Hope. My team leaders in Pemba are seeing a community of hope begin to form. They host the fellowship of Mwani believers every Saturday. They invited neighbors over to watch the Jesus Film in Kimwani. (A powerful presentation of Jesus' death, resurrection, and His promised return.) What better way to cultivate hope than in a community? Especially in a culture where community means everything. Neighbors watching the Jesus Film I grieve over what is happening in northern Mozambique. I mourn with those who lost loved ones and homes. Yet...

My internal pendulum swung back and forth. The peaceful rhythm brought a smile to my face. I felt great, back to my old self, with none of the negative symptoms from earlier this year. Then I woke up on Tuesday; life had thrown me a curveball. It knocked me off balance. I couldn't write my newsletter for fear that an upcoming decision would void everything. I waited for events to unfold. I needed to do something joy-filled to counterbalance the curveball and keep the pendulum swinging. I placed the curveball in God's hand and focused on editing my children's chapter book.  A harrier hawk carried me off to the African savanna where I followed the journey of a bushbaby. My characters' personalities came to life before my eyes. Scenes turned 3-D and a terrible mistake about a kingfisher's diet got fixed. Writing restored my joy pendulum.  Pendulum Clock Finding Joy to counterbalance hardships and keeping the pendulum swinging is one of the assig...

Think of your three best friends (past or present). How did you make a connection and become friends? From what I know, a lot of people make friends through activities. Maybe doing sports together, sharing a hobby, volunteering together, going to the movies, playing games, or going on a hike. Well, that's not me. Oh sure, I've done many activities and met a lot of people that way, but I struggle to make real connections through shared activities. Let me give you an example: Macy and I attended college together for two years. We carpooled home for the holidays and went on a ministry trip to New York City together. We went to South Africa as interns. We assembled beds, painted window frames, refurbished a desk, and baked together. Despite all this, we did not connect. The friction between us was palpable. One night I broke down crying because of a family issue. I sobbed out my story to Macy. She was speechless at first. Who was this unfamiliar and emotionally vulnerable person? ...

My body trembled as I moved through the woods. I tried to corral my racing thoughts, paying no attention to my surroundings. I wanted to flee the trauma that had been dredged up in the seminar that morning. Emotions that I usually kept locked up in a dark closet in the recesses of my mind had been let loose. I was afraid that it would be impossible to herd them back into their closet. My physical shaking was a reaction to the inward turmoil. I was determined to reach a certain spot. I needed space. I needed quiet. I needed safety. A whiff of the surrounding woods seized my attention. I halted mid-stride as the saying "stop and smell the roses" came to mind. I breathed in the pungent, earthy aroma of moss, fallen leaves, and a nearby marsh. A chorus of crickets and frogs drifted up to me from the marsh. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves high above my head. I heard birds singing and flitting from branch to branch. I could feel the tension leaving my body. I noticed I wasn'...