little eyes

I was recently taken back when I realized how much Nede is watching me. Of course I knew this but when I realized that she has already changed within 2 weeks I was a bit shocked and scared actually. The “habit” that I noticed was while she’s brushing her teeth. It was obvious when she first was with me that someone had taught her to brush her teeth quite well. I was shocked (well done Sarah! Thank you!). I have been told in the past by a few close friends that I am “the messiest tooth brusher” that they have ever known. Well, I think Nede has noticed and is enjoying the freedom it brings! Shame, that is not what I want to teacher her!

Okay, so this is a VERY small thing but it was a strong reminder. It reminds me of the children’s song that says,

oh be careful little eyes what you see

oh be careful little eyes what you see

for the Father up above is looking down in love

oh be careful little eyes what you see

These are important days. Denise always reminds me that “the world is watching”. It’s true isn’t it, my “world” has just come a bit closer now.

Be careful little eyes…

(playing Disney Princess Memory. What a great thing to find in my house!)

“For ME?”

I wish you could hear her little squeaky voice each time she says, “For ME?? Sista Dar-da, FOR ME??” I hear it a million times a day it seems as Nede asks in complete amazement about EVERYTHING and if it is for her. “Sista Dar-da, Sista Dar-da (sometimes mutating into Sista Dar-doo), for ME?”

The food I prepare for breakfast, “For ME?”

The tangerines I buy at the market, “for ME?”

The eggs I hard boil, “for ME?”

Things she doesn’t even know what they are, “for ME?”

Emily visiting, “Sista Dar-da, Emma, FOR ME?”

I feel like I don’t quite understand all that is wrapped up in those two little words. “FOR ME?”

Insecurity?

Fear?

Bewilderment?

Unbelief?

Hope?

I’ll never understand what is going on in her little mind and all that she has been thinking/feeling over the last 3 weeks. She’s unable to express much, and/or, I’m unable to understand her Shona.

Sometimes I even get frustrated and annoyed and just want to scream, “YES, NEDE IT’S FOR YOU!” When I am tired (which is a lot lately) her voice isn’t always sweet to my ears, but that is nothing about Nede, it’s about me and it’s then that I need to check my heart. Today at one point, I am not sure what exactly I was dealing with at the time, but, I didn’t want to be doing it—whether it was on an early morning trip to the toilet or if she was scared of a cow 100 meters away I didn’t feel like being compassionate. Then, then I was reminded of Jesus saying: “ Whatever you do to the least of these, you have done it to me.” Matt 25:40

This isn’t about me. It’s not even about Nede. It’s surely not “for ME” (as in Dara). It’s for HIM! It’s for Jesus because it means something to Him that I gave Nede a hug, kiss and an apple today. “No, Nede, not for you. For Jesus.”

I pray one day she’ll have blessed assurance. Assurance deeper than her basic needs being met. It’s my hope all her wounds will be healed, not by me, but by God- our healer. I pray she won’t have to ask, “For ME?” with such expectancy too much longer.

For today, “Yes, Nede, for you!” Smile.

What now?

Bridget sent me some CDs a few weeks back and one of the songs on it speaks my heart. It brought me back to truth this week. I’m tired and with that comes room for much doubt, fear, questions and feelings of being totally overwhelmed. These are the words to the song, I am not sure who sings it (Steven Curtis Chapman, maybe?) but it really is the journey I have been on over the last 2 years:

I saw the face of Jesus, in a little orphan girl.

She was standing, in the corner, on the other side of the world.

And I heard the voice of Jesus, gently whisper to my heart.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to find me?

Well, here I am, here you are.

So what now?

What will do now that you found me?

What now?

What will you do with this treasure you found?

I know I may not look like what you expected.

But if you'll remember  this is  right where I said I would be.

You found me…

What now?”

Wow! What now Dara? When I am tried and feel a total loss of “freedom”, what now? Do I want to be anywhere else than where I have found Jesus. No. This is not what I expected but it is where I found Jesus. It’s only when I start thinking as the world thinks that I really fear or question what I am doing.

The last words of the song are:

So come and know.

Come and know.

Come and know me now.

What will you do now that you found me?

What now?

What will you do with this treasure you’ve found?

No, I may not look like what you’ve expected, YOU FOUND ME!

I’ll keep going because I have found Jesus in a treasure, and this is what I was looking for.

 

I’m not happy, I’m joyful

I have had Nede staying with me for the last week and it has been a pure blessing. Not to say that there haven’t been times where I have thought, “what am I doing? Who is this child and why am I waking at 5am to a small voice saying ‘Sista Darda (sounding like dare-dah) poo poo.’” I have sat on the floor of every room of this house trying to persevere beyond the strength of a 4 year old temper tantrum wanting bread for the 4th time in the day. I have also contemplated that this could mean I’ll be single for the rest of my life and may never go on a single date again. BUT…

In the midst of all this I feel such deep, pure- hearted JOY! I am not happy, it’s much deeper. It’s what I have not felt in a very, very long time—if ever. As I ponder this I think that it’s because I have chosen to surrender to something that is so close to the heart of God. It’s WAY bigger than me and it’s God. It’s that simple. Believe me, I am not special or doing anything extravagant. I have just found myself, as I desire to please, serve and worship my Father God, being led, beyond my own choice, back to Mozambique for this small child. As I was rereading a book called “Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope” I was touch by this and it’s appropriateness to me today:

Surrender is what cleans off the barnacles that have been clinging to the soul. It is the final act of human openness. Without it I am doomed to live inside a stagnant world called the self.

I do want to surrender, to surrender all of me in a act of worship to have something deeper and real—to be a part of something with TRUE JOY- something of the Father God’s heart.

Nede.

I wish I could tape her giggle for you all to hear. I wish you could see her smile every morning when I assure her that there will be breakfast. In an attempt to fight her fear of being hungry I have made her a basket that I fill with snacks. It’s waiting for her every morning when she wakes up. She is now learning that once these snacks are gone they aren’t refilled. She can eat them anytime during the day but once they are gone, they are gone. She carries this basket around with her everywhere we go (sometimes on her head like in this picture). It’s like the Easter bunny has visited every morning. She’s delighted with it. This morning her cookies were gone before breakfast and she finally was eating her raisins in bed tonight;) Nothing else was left:)

In an attempt to surrender self, in the simplest terms, it’s a challenge not be bothered by Nede eating bread and hard boiled eggs while falling asleep in my bed. And I am trying to get over the fact that she chooses, and insists on wearing, day time clothes to bed and pajamas during the day and she doesn’t know the difference. Or that she actually eats and drinks out of the miniature plastic tea set I bought for her from Shoprite!

I have spent the past year and a half, at least, waiting for this week. I have also spent much time and prayer making sure it isn’t an attempt to fulfill anything that is lacking in me, or my life. I don’t believe this is about finding my “purpose” or “fulfilling me”. It’s all my relationship with the Lord and the journey He has me on. While in the States for about 13 months I somehow lived in the hope that the clothes I was collecting for a four year old and the children’s Bible and books that I hid away in my dresser drawer would indeed someday be needed for this child. In faith, I took the risks of expecting that I would have a week like this, with Nede in my home. I continue to walk in the same faith, not fully satisfied that this is what it is all about but fully expecting that this is something the Lord planted in me and it’s just the beginning of a long life of sacrifice. 

I believe part of my joy is also linked to having to depend on the Lord. I HAVE to have faith that this has all been led by Him and His ways are good, perfect and won’t leave me broken. Rather than fear at this time of risk and sacrifice, I am trusting that as my faith is challenged and grown there is, and will continue to be sweetness in the journey. So, no matter what bumps and challenges are ahead, and there will be many I am sure, His grace is sufficient and at least, right now, I have a bubbling joy as I invest in something beyond my “SELF” and say, "Lord, I worship you with my life!”

Maybe I write this to continue to convince myself and cheer my own self on but, I believe, no matter what happens the joy of these days is of the Lord, and that is what life is to be all about!

 

(I have much more to say about the grace that I continue to experience, how WELL Nede has adapted and what I am thinking about hunger and what I see in Nede, but that’ll have to wait. I know a long post (like this one) is hard for some to get through- TREVOR!)

Sharing my life with a 4 year old

I can’t even articulate my thoughts…

Nede and I recited this verse many times today, she repeating after me:

“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it!” Psalm 118:24

 

I’m off to bed. With this precious one breathing heavily in the bed next to mine. Bless her Lord and thanks for YOUR PRAYERS! This is the start of another incredible journey…more soon!

Nede

Meet Nede-- Quite possibly the most prayed for child in Mozambique, maybe even ALL of Africa!

Thank you! What a gift you’re giving both her and me.

Sorry if it seems I have been a bit absent recently. The days come and go and I am busy with this and that before I know it it’s 8PM, I check my email and as my eyes droop heavily the last thing I can think of doing is writing something wise or profound. Many days I can’t dream of capturing my thoughts in words and I just head off to bed trying to figure out the meaning of my life.

Even now I can’t adequately “recap” what’s been going on lately. So, I’ll just share a few photos. In the past I have been told by some to take more pictures of what it looks like here, “enough of the kids, I want to see what the country looks like.” :)

Last week I was able to go to South Africa for a week to get some R&R. This is a HUGE baobab tree along the highway as we drove through Zimbabwe.

A view of the coast as we drove back through Mozambique

This is a home over 10km off the main road near where I stay. Coca Cola has literally reached the ends of the earth!

I’m sitting at my “dining room” table (which is a screened in area). It’s winter now and my toes are freezing. I think I’ll heat some water for some tea and fill the hot water bottle I brought back from SA. I have hopes of a quiet night listening to the rain and reading a book. We’ll see what the actuality of the night brings.

Boring post…more soon.

Admit One

Written a few weeks back:

When I was in Phoenix after I returned from Mozambique in 2009 I went to a World Vision exhibit to bring awareness of the HIV/AIDS crisis. Yesterday, I was in the exact exhibit I toured through in the States. Unfortunately, these people don’t have a ticket that allows them to just walk through and browse.

As we drove into Inchope Carlos told me we would be stopping there for breakfast. Inchope is the town better known as the “Crossroads.” It’s the place where the 2 highways meet- the Beira Corridor which runs from Beira, the port city on the coast, to Zimbabwe. The other runs from the capital, Maputo, to Northern Moz. Due to the nature of this environment and the frequency of truck drivers at the Crossroads Inchope has quite a reputation for prostitution. Knowing this, and perhaps the sensitivity in my spirit, my soul is restless each time I travel through this impoverished place. With poverty, prostitution often goes hand in hand. Where there is hunger, there is desperation, with this desperation comes prostitution and, with prostitution, comes HIV.  

As I sat eating my “bread with egg” and “coffee” (a can of instant “Ricoffe” set before us on the table) I watched as men and woman came staggering out of the rooms of this “guest house.” Fortunately my naive mind can’t even imagine what happened the night before in the rooms of these broken men and women. I believe this is part of God’s mercy on me. If I fully understood the culture and happenings of such a place I would likely not be able to cope.

I felt very uncomfortable as I sat in this environment. I didn’t even feel like it was me sitting there. How could I, Dara, be in such a place as this? --somewhere so uncomfortable and strange.  I sat there and actually thought, “Oh, yes, I have seen this before. I have been here before.” But no, I haven’t ever been in this situation. I’ve seen it in an exhibit.

Part of me feels really grateful. Really happy that after I finish eating my bread we’ll just get in the car and I'll go home and make a real cup of coffee in a French press. I can cook dinner tonight and I have NEVER had to contemplate what I would be willing to do to have food on the table for myself or my family. Part of me just wants to praise God that I am not “them.”

When I have these thoughts, I feel terribly guilty. What if I was “them?” What if that was me staggering out of a room with some stranger who just took advantage of my body for only a few dollars? Like walking through a World Vision exhibit, what if my ticket that read “Admit One” didn’t actually include a flight out of this broken, desperate, hurting place. This is NO exhibit for these people. What if I was trapped in this exhibit? What if this was my life?

Only by God’s grace do I hold a ticket that is so simple that all I have to do is send an email and I’ll fly back to a place where I paid money to “experience” exactly this.

There’s nothing just about this.

I am not worthy of this life I was given.

It’s not right that I can continue to walk through as if this were just another exhibit- another ticket that reads, “admit one” and I keep walking on…