MozamWeek

Preface: I just opened this blog and I found this unpublished from January 1019 and labeled "Unfinished... needs big edit." After reading it again, I didn't find much to edit, but I did realize that we are all "unfinished" and we do all need "a big edit" in one way or another. Here it is: The first time I held my newborn daughter I was overwhelmed. She was immediately familiar. She was tiny, and I expected her to be fragile. I was surprised by her strength! Do you know what I mean? Small and fragile, but still strong and full of life? She couldn't hold up her own head, but she had a will and a power demonstrated by her scream and the clench of her fist and that amazing moment she latched on to nurse at my breast. Let's just acknowledge it is possible to be fragile and strong at the same time! Messages to us these days seem to be: You can do anything! They will try to hold you back! You are beautiful just like you are! You are enough! ...

It has been a long time since I posted here in Mozamweek. This was the blog that I created back in 2008 or so to document our lives as missionaries in Mozambique. I never posted weekly as I'd intended. This has been a place to express my thoughts as a missionary, mom and migrant between the USA, Sweden and Mozambique in ministry and life in general. In December of 2017, we said good-bye to our Mozambique-based ministry. Our part of the Bible translation ministry for Nyungwe was basically complete. Our last child was finishing at the international school in Tete. My new Little Zebra Books groups were becoming more and more independent. A chapter was closing. New plans were forming. Furlough was scheduled and we moved on. Setting up house in Sweden was a transition. We were ready for this move. It had been planned as a practical place to restart ministry in new roles. It was necessary to reconnect with family and our church and invest in friendships back "home". All of ...

When I need a recipe from the USA, I trust Martha! It's my favorite holiday: Thanksgiving. It's not about some national history for me. It is about thankfulness and family. I love my family and I live thousands of miles away from them. I am immensely thankful for my personal heritage - for my parents and grandparents and all my aunts and uncles. I am thankful for growing up in a place that allowed me to be myself. I am thankful for growing up knowing that "Jesus loves me" and "I'm something special" and even a little of "I can do anything you can do better!" America is like that... we grow up believing in positivity and possibility and individual potential. We grow up learning that God helped us get here... we didn't do everything right... we can still move ahead. We have another chance to make things better. We have a responsibility to make change happen. In today's world, many people think that how I grew up in a small Indi...

Good morning from chilly Sweden after a rainy night! We've been thinking a lot about fundraising, support raising, partnership development, PR, project planning, budgets, and all-that-goes-into-getting-us-where-we-can-do-what-we're-called-to-do. Earlier this year I wrote about "selfish" missionaries  here . I've been thinking a lot about all of you lately! I've been reminded of how we met and why we are still in touch with each other. I've smiled and gotten a tear now and then because of some of you. We have been through a lot. I miss some of you. I will see some of you tomorrow! Most of all I am overwhelmed with thankfulness for each of you who follows our mission work, our family life and our growth as followers of Jesus. You make my day! As a missionary in need of the financial commitment of "others" to do my "job", I am often very aware that I could seem ingenuine in a relationship. Some might see me as only keeping in touch ...

We have too much. I've noticed this as I pack and unpack when moving between countries. We have to weigh and box up our leftovers (stuff we didn't give away and aren't taking with us). The things I keep to remember the life I have lived and hope to live once again someday. Some of it is necessary. Those boxes of past tax records and bank stuff... a Ziploc with about 25 expired passports. (These are actually necessary sometimes, who would guess!) Those two boxes of kitchen stuff came in very handy when setting up house again in Sweden! I needed those nine years after packing and storing that box Some of it is wonderful. Photos and albums of days-gone-by bring true joy when shared with those we love! We don't look at them often enough. We might have too many, but my friend pulled out a picture of my dad she had from our time in high school. If she hadn't saved it, I wouldn't have it. The box with a few baby clothes from our sweet tiny children... or their fi...

I know that my other international friends understand that phrase. It makes sense despite looking like it might be a typo of some sort. In June, when school ended here in Sweden, our family traveled home to the USA for the summer break. Now, last week, before school started, we all came home to Sweden. Where is home? We get asked that all the time. We don't have a good answer. There's the short answer: "Wherever we are now!" Sometimes it is more like: "Wherever we are all together." All TCKs (Third Culture Kids- who grow up somewhere outside their parents' home culture/place) understand the problems with questions like "Where's home?" or "Where are you from?" We are home in many places. We are not really "at home" anywhere, either. We don't really make a big deal about it one way or the other. We do kind of miss having a place that feels like home like other people seem to have. BUT we are also very thankfu...

Another day of wondering... is this it? Will it happen? Mikael and the team are Skyping again and I hear spurts of Portuguese and Nyungwe dialogue. They discuss a term that might not really match a Greek item in the original. Can they make it better? They discuss verb tenses and discourse markers... It's about 2:30 pm and this is another "last day" for them to check final revision of Luke. They are finally on chapter 24. Around 3:30 pm Mikael comes downstairs.  "We're done." "For the day? Do you have to work on this tomorrow?!?" "No, we are done with the New Testament." Mikael doesn't get excited very easily or visibly. It just doesn't happen. I do! I hugged him. I posted to Facebook. I offered him some coffee. Kids started coming home from school. Mikael's sister saw the post on Facebook and brought a little cake to celebrate when she came to pick up Doris the dog.  We are celebrating in our hearts. Ther...

I ended the title with an exclamation point! It is a hopeful gesture more than a show of exultation. This week marks a full two months since we moved back to Sweden as a family. A church friend asked yesterday if we are here to "recharge our batteries" before returning to missions. I sort of laughed. Yes and no, would be the answer to that one. I was reminded again during the sermon yesterday that we have to live COMPLETELY where we are at the moment. We will miss opportunities to thrive and grow and bless and love if we constantly dream and hope to be somewhere else! We can get lost in that mentality: I'll get to that once I'm ____________. We can fill in the blank with a place or a circumstance: "once I'm back in Africa" or "once the kids finish school" or "when I've finally reached that certain level of spiritual maturity." Honestly, we'll never really get "there" so lets just live the life we are in now! In o...

An important page from my passport December 7th 2017. We left Mozambique There were tears and hugs and lots of luggage and lots of notes about who will take what where and how all of our Earthly possessions have been dispersed. We have very good friends who we trust. We also depend on each other when things get tough or weird or even exciting! I love you guys. You are Jesus' hands weather you know it or not.  December 10th 2017.  We arrived in AMERICA!!! There were hugs and tears and all that luggage! We spent Christmas with my family in Birmingham AL area. Cousins were reacquainted. Sisters were reunited. Brothers-in-law were reminded how it feels to watch the flurry of activity created by the addition of the 1st sister and family to the bunch. It was a wonderful stop and just what we needed. We took the kids away from Grandma's house as little people 5 years ago. They are now full-fledged teenagers and all bigger than Grandma. It was too long to be a...

Usually at this time of my "leavings" I am becoming more and more irritated by my current country and culture. I remember times of temperamental impatience as someone took too long to find a price for my can of tomatoes... or a car managed to perform a particularly common irrational moving violation in my immediate vicinity... or a beggar asked just one more time...   I've not felt that this time. This last time. I am more filled with understanding and nostalgia. I'm much more gracious than usual. This can only be the grace of God, I think, as I pack another box and say another goodbye. Tears are always close. I well up at the slightest inclination... crossing the Zambezi at sunset... waiting for cows to get out of the road... sweating in the heat as the kids come out of the school... remembering him or her or those other ones. I sigh a lot. I've heard it is good for you. I hate crying, but my grandma warned me it gets worse with age. I'm proving her r...

I know it is hard to accept that you might be the answer to a big problem. I know it is hard when I am the answer to a need bigger than I can meet alone. Before you reject a Syrian neighbor, I suggest you meet a person who is from another home than yours. I suggest you consider what it means to be hopeful that you can start somewhere safe. What is it like to leave everything crushed behind you. People you knew and cared about are just gone... Then you show up in the "Land of the Free and Home of the Brave" and find the doors locked and the neighbors trembling because you are there and you are different. You long for safety and you are stared at from behind closed doors. You look different. It is hard to communicate. You don't know anyone. They don't want to know you. I am grieving here in Mozambique, far away from my homeland. I see post after post shared by people I love declaring they have no place for Syrian resettlement. They "hate Obama" and they...

I'm always amused by differences in culture. After all these years, I still have moments of surprise thrust upon me. A day last month was a shocker. We laughed out loud at each other. Teacher training events all over the world throw loads of women together. I'm an "along-side" adviser to the presenters. I edit some slides and make sure concepts are getting across to our teachers. I connect projectors and click through the PowerPoint presentation. I'm pretty recognizable and they mostly remember my name since it isn't a hard foreign-sounding one- they are "Djeni" or "Geni" or "Jeny" around here. Dancing with the teachers... the fun part of the job! Lunch hour. I stepped in mud and took off my shoes to clean them. "Formadora Jeni, give me your hips!" A younger teacher around 40 or so is admiring me. Her friend proceeds to tell her that she doesn't need mine since hers are big enough. They giggle and want me to tu...

Inventam uma realidade daqui e fazem os planos sozinhos.  "They invent a reality, and then they make the plans alone." Let that sink in for a while.  My actual description of a road to a real place we are going to visit in the next few weeks.  She is right. I am guilty. I am so glad for this blast of wisdom when I least expected it. So much of what we do on the ground in development or mission work is based on an "invented" reality. How patient are my African colleagues who do not shout at my stupidity! How kind they are to say, "ok," and then kind of ignore my missteps and good intentions. We are careful to collect all the facts. Data is important. But background is difficult and hidden and messy and we don't even know what to call it or how to calculate for it. So we fill in the blanks with something that makes sense... to US... from where we stand and all that we know. We process it all very neatly...

Dear friends, FACTS (as I see them from here): Missionaries do jobs in places where the people they actually work for cannot pay them for what they do. Missionaries sometimes have jobs that can earn a "regular" salary. Missionaries often are paid according to what they need to cover expenses in the country where they work. Missionaries are vulnerable to international economic fluctuation. Missionaries can get a "pay raise" if the local economy fails or the home economy surges. Missionaries are viewed as poor and dependent from one side, but ss rich and responsible for everyone around them on the other side. Missionaries have to pay taxes... sometimes, somewhere. Social Security in USA,for example. Missionaries can drive cool cars and live in exotic locations. Missionaries have house-help... maids or gardeners or watchmen; often they contribute jobs to the local economy and avoid looking "stingy". Missionaries often cover all medical expenses ...

 First of all, let me say I LOVE the people who work at the Tete Provincial Library. They know me and know how I feel about some of the policies they have to abide by. There are children's books among others. There are shelves of books displayed and organized. There is lovely natural lighting from the big windows, clean bathrooms and even air-conditioning (when the power allows it). The staff are knowledgeable and can be friendly. I don't want to bash the library. There aren't really bookstores around, so a library is a big step towards helping people have access to books! Provincial Library I just want to point out a few things about this context here that might help those of you who don't live here in Mozambique understand what "access to literature" might be like.  Sign at the entrance Necessary requisites for entering the library:    Personal ID:  ID, passport, student card or    driver's license Entrance denied t...

In my American past... Widows were old ladies from church. When we lost Dad in 1987 mom became one of the rare young widows. I honestly didn't know others her age who had lost a husband. Orphans were also fairly rare. These were few children who'd lost both parents through some freaky accident or horrible diseases. Rarely would a child be abandoned to an orphanage, but would be cared for by relatives. Orphanages were from fairy tales where kids were treated badly and they managed to creatively escape their dismal circumstance through fantastic feats of brave defiance. In my current world... Widows are my team-mates and neighbors. They are between the ages of 25 and 50. They live with their kids if they have them... or the children are relocated with the husbands' family who is responsible for them. Women officially have the right to keep their children, but tradition often overrules law. Many opt to keep the peace by not bucking the system too often and resign themselve...

Leaving for vacation... Tete Commutes Missionaries like us generally live in out-of-the-way places with little on offer in the area of leisure activities. While a Swede is happy to live for a month without running water and electricity at the lake in the summertime, most of us don't find this "mysig" (cozy and quaint) after years with power-cuts and dry spells. Considering that the hills surrounding our residence in Mozambique were littered with land mines during the war, we have been wary of hiking off the beaten track. It is safe now, but our routines were formed during the not-so-safe years after the ceasefire. We don't wander much. Where to go? This is often determined by the next scheduled mission meeting or mandatory travel to and from schools or courses. When we were expected to visit northern Mozambique once a year, we planned on a few extra days to visit our favorite beach spot. When the kids needed to be taken to boarding school, we schedule...

A few weeks ago I had a lovely chat with a friend who loves and supports Little Zebra Books and our community reading programs. Hilda even uses Little Zebra Books in a Sunday School program at her church here in Tete. Our conversation turned, as often happens these days, to our impending exit from Tete. "Are you really going? What will happen to the programs without you? We need you here." "Yes," I replied, "we are going to leave. It is for the best. It has always been planned this way. Others are already running things. There are a few things I can help with from a distance if needed, but I trust my teams." "But it isn't the same. You do everything with love!" I got teary, as often happens this last year in Tete. "Hilda, so do you! You show such love to the kids. So does Veronica! You all do! You can love them even better than me, because you know them better." There is a reason that I'm not in all those pictures. Min...

About a year ago I posted Why read to kids on a pile of rocks in the shade of a thorn tree?   We've come a long way since those days! Not only have we graduated to reed mats, we have also expanded. Yes, Veronica recruited six volunteers in 2016, and we have added several more in 2017 so far!  Each of our newer volunteers is excited to read to kids. They are following the model that Veronica and I worked out as we experimented with our first books.  Talk to adults first.  Gather the kids.  Read stories and talk about what happens.  Meet weekly at a fixed time. The adults often stay for the stories. Some of them can read. Some of them cannot. One thing they are learning is that their children LIKE to read. Books are now a part of their community life! Books are not a foreign thing brought by strangers. These books are THEIR stories in THEIR language.  The bigger storybook version of each title is also really popula...

Long ago, our mission directors decided that a short American girl should share a desk with a tall Swede in Maputo, Mozambique. They were in the same department and the office was very small. That's the beginning of our story. We've told it often and in many circumstances: when we visited churches everyone wanted the "love story"; when we met people in Mozambique and they wanted to know how we ended up together; when I've given a lift to a lady on the side of the road and she asked how I ended up in Mozambique and questions led to the story. God has used the story to show many how he can lead with a smile, and a whisper of hope. We married at the age of 30. It seemed very old at the time! February 22, 1997 Mikael and I have made a life together, and we have mostly allowed God to guide us. He's guided us through good and bad decisions and moved us a little closer to His vision of who we are in Him, I hope. We are never quite there... but we are moving the...