It was heartbreaking to fly over and see people trapped on their rooftops surrounded by floodwater, waving at us, and to know we could do nothing to help them in that moment. My husband Dave, who was flying the Caravan, recounted seeing a man all alone on a grass roof, with kilometers of water all around him, waving madly at the airplane. We shared his geographic coordinates and those of other stranded individuals with our partner, Mercy Air, but their helicopter could only rescue a few at a time.

When we returned to our hotel each night, where we were safe from the elements and could enjoy a hot meal, my mind was haunted by those spending the night on their roofs. One evening it was pouring rain and we got soaking wet running from the building to the car. Despite the heat and humidity, I shivered a little in my wet clothes. I couldn’t fathom what it must be like to spend the night out in the rain, hungry and without shelter, not knowing if help was going to come.

Thankfully, as the days passed the waters began to recede and we were able to transport tents and shelter kits to Beira to be used by those who had lost their homes. We partnered with Mercy Air to help do food drops from their helicopter. Aid organizations arrived to deliver food and medical care. It was a chaotic mess and yet comforting to see so many people coming together to help.

It will no doubt be a long-term recovery, with all the crops and structures that have been destroyed. Please remember to continue to pray for, and support if you can, the people of Mozambique.

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I’ve found the missionary/expat life to be a transient one. Everyone lives in a state of transition. New folks arrive while others depart for good. And then there are furloughs, when missionaries return to their passport country for an extended period That means friends, who become like family, up and leave for months at a time. Right now Dave and I are really feeling the effects of that as the bulk of our team is on furlough. It makes us appreciate all the gifts and strengths of our teammates as we are stretched to do things outside of our normal tasks; it also makes it difficult to find a sense of normalcy. For the nomad expat, transition is normal. But thankfully, we serve an unchangeable God!

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Last week was one that held plenty of non-mundane tasks. I spoke at our church, in a small building constructed from mud bricks, with no AC, and just a few light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. My colleague drove into a remote village to show the “JESUS” film. My husband played soccer with some of the village kids while he waited at a remote airstrip. These are things in line with how I imagined this “dream” job would be. The “dream” did not include counting cashboxes and keeping endless spreadsheets.

When we got back from our short furlough last April, I was tasked with keeping the cashbox that helps cover costs for patient care with the medical project we are involved with. My first response was, “Great, another cashbox to keep up. Like I need one more on top of the other cashboxes and bank accounts in multiple currencies I already manage… and this one isn’t even specifically for MAF!” But recently, as I was updating the ledger I began to get a sense of how this medical project is impacting individual lives. One day money was signed out to cover three different surgeries and three liters of blood. On another day housing and food costs were covered for patients flown in from remote villages who otherwise had no place to stay and no one to take care of them. Suddenly, this cashbox became a way for me to see and have a small part in some really amazing things that were happening. I may not be flying the doctors to the village, but in this “mundane” task I can see the hand of God at work. But don’t interrupt me while I’m counting the cash!

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Sometimes, we find that living here is so different than what we have been used to that our way of thinking can change. For example, my husband and I are what you would call “dog people.” BIG dog people at that. We have never understood why anyone would ever want a cat. Until we moved to Congo.

The change for us began as we started discovering rats. First one, then another. Suddenly, there were five of them. Cats began moving up on our list of tolerable animals to have around. With the first rat, it was a joking, “Maybe we should get a cat…ha ha ha!” With the second rat, it was “Maybe we should look into getting a cat…someday…for outside only.” We then heard that a friend of ours in town had (in an 18-month period) 50 rats! By our fourth rat, we were actively looking for people who had kittens.

Over the course of a couple weeks, we went from having no desire to ever have a cat to having a kitten IN the house! The kids love her, and to our surprise, Owen and I found that we love her too. Amazing what can change when people move overseas!

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What do you think Africa will look like?
L (age 5): I think it will have lots of trees, not very much grass, lots of kids…I think there’s going to be lots of houses in Africa, too.
G (age 3): Our house. A playground. (pause…incredulous look) Mom, Africa doesn’t look. Africa can’t see!!
M (age 2): Canada.

Why do you think we are going to Africa?
L (age 5): To help people.
G (age 3): So we can see our friends.
M (age 2): Because…(stares)…YES!…(points to the paper I’m writing her responses on) Draw Africa…and an airplane and can you draw me?

What makes you happy about going to Africa?
L (age 5): That I get to see my friends.
G (age 3): You!
M (age 2 ): Paint…and we have new bibs.

What do you want to do in Africa?
L (age 5): I want to play with the kids, play in the rain, and there’s lots of airplanes.
G( age 3): See the elephants and ride on one.
M (age 2): Paint a snake.

How will Africa be different?
L (age 5): There’s an Okapi. There’s not, like, any stores.
G (age 3): Me. (points to leg) I’m white.
M (age 2): Canada.

What will Daddy be doing in Africa?
L (age 5): Working on computers.
G (age 3): I don’t know.
M (age 2): (Stares around room) Talking to a boy about a diamond. (points to my paper again) So, I want you to draw a diamond.

What is a missionary?
L (age 5): Someone who helps people and tells people about God. They use lots of airplanes.
G (age 3): (Totally distracted, raises a toy bat in the air) STAR WARS!
M (age 2): A missionary walks…A missionary can’t walk because a chicken will cross the road!

Hmmm…if the kids have their way, we are in for a crazy first term in Africa!

The post The Kids Talk Africa appeared first on Mission Aviation Fellowship.

I have lost count of the times that my bedroom floor has been covered and uncovered by the miscellaneous clothing and clutter as we sort out what will be donated, what will be stored, and what will make the trip with us. We’ve had tools lined up across the basement floor, clothes and toys piled floor to ceiling, and pots and pans spread out on tarps in the back yard. The kitchen counter has been regularly covered in flour as I’ve practiced cooking from scratch.

Sometimes, my husband and I will think of all the things we want to take with us. Other times we think about getting rid of everything and taking almost nothing with us. We have three daughters (ages 5, 3, and 2) and a son (10 months), so thoughts about taking nothing usually don’t last long. Having so many young children also means that the best time to organize all our “stuff” is after 9pm. Often, I roll my eyes and think about signs I’ve seen in people’s homes that say, “God bless this mess!”

When I find myself starting to get overwhelmed, I look around and thank God for blessing me with the mess. I am thankful that my kids have clothes to wear and toys to play with, and I am thankful for the many people who have provided them. I look at the overflowing tub of crayons and Play-Doh and I thank God for giving me creative children. Piles of tools remind me to be thankful for the blessing of a handy husband. I thank God for blessing me with this mess, and I pray for the wisdom to manage it well.

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