1. Guilt

Today is "No Guilt Day" in 20 Things to Give up for Lent. 

Guilt sneaks in all the time. "I feel guilty for not calling her back." "I feel guilty for not going to her party." "I feel guilty for having clean running water when Veronica doesn't have that." "I feel guilty for judging her." Guilt for:

-falling short

-not fulfilling expectations of others

-past sins

-having too much

-and everything else under the sun

It is a full time job, sorting through all the guilt that slips in and rides on your shoulders all day long. But today and every day from now on, I am burying it. Carrying guilt does no one any good.  I often brood in my own lack and insufficiencies and sin and Jesus already died for all of that. Repentance and forgiveness are glorious things. Guilt will kill you. When we wallow in guilt and take our own sins and fret over them, we are not living the resurrected life. Paul says it way better than me in Galatians Chapter 2.

¹⁶ yet we know that a person is not justified^[b] by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, so we also have believed in Christ Jesus, in order to be justified by faith in Christ and not by works of the law, because by works of the law no one will be justified.

¹⁷ But if, in our endeavor to be justified in Christ, we too were found to be sinners, is Christ then a servant of sin? Certainly not! ¹⁸ For if I rebuild what I tore down, I prove myself to be a transgressor. ¹⁹ For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. ²⁰ I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.²¹ I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness^[c] were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose.

Even my noble guilt of feeling unworthy to be born in America, does not do Veronica nor me one bit of good. Feeling guilty for sin "nullifies the grace of God." So today I'm taking Guilt to the wonderful cross all day long and nailing it there. It is no longer mine. Or yours. So join me.

20 Things to Give Up For Lent

This is just beautiful and came from the Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd- Old Bridge, New Jersey. 

 And these are things to give up not just for Lent, but for the rest of your life.

• Guilt – I am loved by Jesus and he has forgiven my sins. Today is a new day and the past is behind.
• Fear – God is on my side. In him I am more than a conqueror. (see Romans 8)
• The need to please everyone – I can’t please everyone anyways. There is only one I need to strive to please.
• Envy – I am blessed. My value is not found in my possessions, but in my relationship with my Heavenly Father.
• Impatience – God’s timing is the perfect timing.
• Sense of entitlement – The world does not owe me anything. God does not owe me anything. I live in humility and grace.
• Bitterness and Resentment – The only person I am hurting by holding on to these is myself.
• Blame – I am not going to pass the buck. I will take responsibility for my actions.
• Gossip and Negativity – I will put the best construction on everything when it comes to other people. I will also minimize my contact with people who are negative and toxic bringing other people down.
• Comparison – I have my own unique contribution to make and there is no one else like me.
• Fear of failure – You don’t succeed without experiencing failure. Just make sure you fail forward.
• A spirit of poverty – Believe with God that there is always more than enough and never a lack
• Feelings of unworthiness – You are fearfully and wonderfully made by your creator. (see Psalm 139)
• Doubt – Believe God has a plan for you that is beyond anything you could imagine. The future is brighter than you could ever realize.
• Self-pity – God comforts us in our sorrow so that we can comfort others with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.
• Retirement – As long as you are still breathing, you are here for a reason. You have a purpose to influence others for Christ. That does not come to an end until the day we die.
• Excuses – A wise man once said, if you need an excuse, any excuse will do.
• Lack of counsel – Wise decisions are rarely made in a vacuum.
• Pride – Blessed are the humble.
• Worry – God is in control and worrying will not help.

new day. new city. holy God. holy yoga.

 "Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” Jeremiah 29:7

I have been dwelling on this today. This is how I feel about this city and this place in my life. I am simply getting to enjoy the peace and prosperity (and beauty) of Charleston, The Holy City. It is called The Holy City because of all the churches in view along the city skyline. There are over 400 places of worship here. I view it as holy because it has a Harris-Teeter on every corner, a Target and tennis courts down the street. Yet this is simply what I feel God telling me about my time spent here in this city. "Soak up all that has been laid out before you. Come and feast your eyes on all that inspires and delights you. Dine." I am and I am loving it. 

Today I joined the retired ladies for morning Holy Yoga at the Isle of Palms Methodist Church, where Ellen read from God's word and anointed our heads as we departed. It was lovely. I slid, leaning on my big red cart, all over Target with the mom's in yoga pants and bought yogurt. Dairy still is a precious commodity to me after living where it was hard to find. I then went to Harris-Teeter and bought organic greens and apples for juicing. Salve to my soul. I also went to the local produce place, Boone Hall Farms for fresh local vegetables and even fresher fish. What a glorious life? I get to soak it all up and benefit from the success and wealth of this city and her many markets and shops and museums and parks. I get to dwell in her peace and I don't have to be afraid. It feels so good to feel safe.

As I write this I feel overwhelming, heavy, weighty peace and feel sad and sorry for the part of me that was a little traumatized- that piece of me that realized that I am not always safe and there are dangerous places. But this is my Holy City and He is so, so very near. 

Tennis clinic tonight!

xo, 

g

Miranda

British humor never gets old, when you can understand what it is they're even saying. Miranda is quite posh though. You will LOVE her. I do. (click here to watch series 1 episode 1)

www.huffingtonpost.com

Charleston Day One

I now believe in love at first sight. This place is fantastic. Now I just need to find some diversity and I will be happy. A little culture, a little juke-joint, some ethnicity. If only I were here longer, I would join the tennis club and the Charleston Library Society. Went shopping at Billy Reid for some "low-fi Southern-bred luxury." It was lovely. Despite being overcast, the street still exuded intrigue and romance and sweet Southern gentility. 

King Street walk

Billy Reid 50 King Street

I want to join.

Ravenel Bridge

mount pleasantly surprised

I've arrived. Mom and Dad were going to Saint Simons so I caught a ride with them. We stopped at the Pecan place in Wrens. That whole drive between Hartwell and Swainsboro is pitiful. No cell service. Nothing but Fred's Dollar Stores. Almost as desolate as northern Mozambique but not quite. We ate dinner at Cheddar's in Pooler. A little off the beaten path but worth the detour and owned by a friend of mine who rolled out the red carpet for us. If you are ever in the area I highly recommend it as a pit stop. As well as that pecan place in Wrens. They have clean loo's and chocolate. I have been here for only 12 hours and 8 of them I was sleeping but I have already found the tennis complex. It is less than 2 miles away! They offer real clinics and lessons and have clay courts and hard courts and ball machines! I am so excited to make this a part of my life. Even if it is only for three weeks. 

I also have plans to meet my friends the O'Hara's who I met on Ibo Island and live in downtown Charleston. It sounds right out of Gone with the Wind but their last name really is O'Hara and they live right on Meeting Street. It reminds me of that time I had a meeting in Atlanta where two men at the table were Rhett and Ashley and no one else saw it as funny. 

I'm going to an event at Billy Reid Wednesday night. I have not worn a dress or stockings or heels in years. I haven't schmoozed or socialized in fancy circles. What is it that people talk about these days? Do we still talk about Obamacare or is that over now? I am mostly going for the food and to smell the men. 

We are going downtown today to window shop and browse and just because we can. Church tomorrow. More soon.
xoxo, 
grace

a Southern Cities Tour

I am leaving on Friday for Charleston. When in Moz I dreamt of cities like Charleston & Savannah; of architecture and fashion and delicious food. I took notes from my Southern Living magazines of restaurants and shops I wanted to see. Their creativity inspires my own. Kind, gracious friends have invited me down for just this. Three or so weeks in Charleston to go and window shop and explore and write.  Disciplined writing, every single day. Eating healthy and tri-weekly tennis matches. I am going to soak in the South, spend my days writing and I will be helping a friend who wants to publish. I don't know exactly how to help but so far reading and giving my opinion seems to help her and I hope she will do the same for me. In addition, I  am also seeking out a small business opportunity that may help fund my extended travels/life in Africa. I am always looking for a way to sustain myself and creative ways for "tent making" as I live abroad. I also think my friends are trying to convince me to stay and showing me the best of one of the greatest cities in the U.S. is smart, but it won't work. I am planning on leaving for Cameroon as soon as possible. I don't know quite what else Charleston will bring, but I just know it is one of many stones that do not need to be left unturned. I am at a really unique juncture and been given a great gift to go and explore this timeless city. I'm excited to see what will become of it. I have a feeling it will be much more than I have imagined. Immediately following my time in Charleston I will be going to Nashville to explore Thistle Farms. I am meeting with their director and am hoping to be able to help them in their social businesses in Africa. Both of these trips remain a little vague, but I feel they are necessary points of interest in the journey. So today I am attempting to pack to be gone for a month, for warmer weather of the coast from a pitiful wardrobe of outdated, wrinkled GAP just unpacked from the attic. I've got work to do, no time for trend setting. 

recent fossil hunting in lake weiss, alabama with the boys

the new neighborhood

morning walk in the new neighborhood

lake weiss, alabama with the boys

the hardware store with nathaniel- rome, ga

Oh, and I moved. I call it The Treehouse as it is perched up high in the woods on the lake in deep Reed Creek. It is perfect. It's brand new and spotless and has hot running water and electricity. All a girl could want. 

Thank you for your continued love and support. Big things are happening in the midst of all the stillness. I can feel it. 

XO, 

Grace

Snow Day

this was good, this was God

I have been avoiding you. All of you. Here and in the grocery store. I avoid you because I know that you are going to see inside of me and because you care, you ask. I learned a long time ago that you can’t fool anyone or maybe  Abraham Lincoln taught me,

“You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time.”

Either way I simply gave up guessing who is who. I avoid you because you are going to ask that dreaded question, “When are you going back to Africa?” and the answer is (eyes down, head down), “I don’t know.” But honestly I do know all that I need to know. I just don’t know how to give you the answer you want to hear. I know that, for the time being, I am not supposed to go back to Mozambique. I know that the foundations I built there are being built upon and it is not my job any longer. I know that the programs I established there are flourishing under those who are running with the torches I passed. I know it is not my role to stay there and administrate but give others the space they need to make these programs their own. Letting that go was not easy and coming to that realization was painful. But that is one thing that I do know.

I also know that I need to start to do a few things for myself. I am not saying that I live a fully selfless life, being single I get to be quite selfish every day. But I want to cultivate something that was fully my own and so I attended a writer’s conference. It was this past weekend in Nashville. Dad let me borrow his truck and friends of friends offered their futon and off I went. Y’all know how much I adore the South and driving up to Nashville felt like visiting cousins, comfortable and familiar. I had no idea what the weekend would entail but it didn’t matter, this was something that I needed to do for myself. It was symbolic of me taking a step, putting my African missionary identity on the back burner and stepping into something new and solely for myself.

For ages I have wanted to be a writer, to write something good, to publish something incredible. Not for recognition or fame but to challenge myself to get good words on paper and tell a story. I want to help others’ get their stories out and I want to tap into these ramblings in my head, otherwise they sit in there and harass me. Years ago I was asked to write out 100 dreams and I think I could only get to 36, but they included; surfing, moving to Africa, living by the ocean, learning to sew, and writing. So now I am here, in Nashville, going to a writer’s conference.

It was a conference for women, so naturally when the women around the room were asked why they were there, they all over shared and cried. Everybody, except me. I don’t over share because I am a Davis and I don’t cry because I lived in Mozambique where my compassion would cripple me if I cried over every thing that grieved me. So for now, I’ve stopped. I met a publisher there and decided that I wanted my next job to be one that involved reading books all day. But I still find it hard to put on shoes and show up on time and not eat with my fingers. But I am getting there. There they showed us what the whole publishing process looks like. I must admit that I listened with someone else in mind and not myself. I do that often. “That sermon is really what So and So needs right.” So I took notes wondering how I could help So and So publish their book rather than my own. Self reflection even in ones own mind is so stinkin’ hard. Because if I admitted to myself that I wanted to publish the book and then I go weeks and months without even blogging to those I love, I would feel like a failure and I am already avoiding you in the produce aisle.

So there you go. I want to write a book and publish it and so now that I am home for Lord knows how long I went to a writer’s conference with a bunch of white people with shoes on and I kinda liked it. I got to wear that sweater that I bought at j.crew, so that was good. We had biscuits for breakfast from Loveless Café and that was good. I left thinking that the only thing stopping me from writing a book was myself and that was good. I learned about a lady who started a social business not unlike my own but instead of being in Mozambique, it is in Nashville. It is a little business that works with women; former prostitutes and addicts. They have a café and their hand made beauty products sell at Whole Foods. It is not unlike the model I want to see at Galeria dos Sonhos. I have tentative plans to go back and check it out.  And for the first time in a long while I got to experience “church” in a house on a hill in Tennessee, as women over shared in a safe space and felt loved and accepted and were encouraged and challenged and changed. So that was good. Even better than the biscuits.

My invitations back to Africa all still stand and I still roll my eyes when Americans talk about the poverty here and suggest I do something locally. But I am starting to see what God may be showing me. I just need a little time with Him to determine our next step. I am ready for it all to be in place so that I can buy plane tickets and plan my wardrobe, but He isn’t pushing or pulling in any direction. I just keep hearing Him say, “Rest. You’re gonna need it.” And now, I am under a blanket, watching snow melt doing just that.

Love, Grace

www.lovelesscafe.com

Nema

This is Nema. I had a dream about her last night. We were on a road and she was jumping high, high on a pogo stick and I was so impressed with her ability to stay on and told her she needed to be in the Olympics. I woke up to disappointment that there is no pogo stick competition in the Olympics and that Nema wasn't walking along the road with me. I am trying hard to fit back into my culture and the life I once knew. I went to Atlanta yesterday and gawked at all the people dressed so smartly. They entertained me during our wait for a table at West Egg Cafe for Carla's birthday brunch. I try to fit myself into the world I once knew of meeting friends there for omelets and coffee and those blessed telecommute days I spent there (and the shops nearby). I remember taking Sephalina to a restaurant for the first time. Ali and I took her to the nicest place in all of Pemba. She was so tiny and frail and barely spoke Portuguese, coming to us only days before from a little village nearby. Parents deceased. She went into the bathroom and washed from head to toe as is Makua custom before eating. We laughed at the wet child at the table all wide eyed as she gobbled up her chicken dinner. 

Carla and I left after filling our bellies and walked beautiful shops where designers and dreamers got inspired and fulfilled dreams and put them in the window for us to buy. I love the beauty of their expression. We tasted Jeni's creations. She is a James Beard award winner who quit one dream of studying art to start another dream of opening the best ice cream place in town. And now you can go and taste it. 

I fooled everyone in J. Crew as I stood at the counter and bought a new sweater and swiped my credit card like I do that every day, yet wondering why in the world I needed a sweater because my heart is deep in sultry Africa. 

I wake up feeling Nema so close I can almost feel her rapid little heart beat. But I lace up my shoes and put the top down and go play tennis with people I can keep at courts' length. They love and laugh and encourage and chastise all in 3 hours time and in those 3 hours Nema doesn't show up to watch. 

I was startled to find this page I captured from The Alchemist. I took it almost a year ago as I read it. I do fear. I fear suffering and I fear making a mistake and I fear fear. I fear falling back into complacent life and forgetting all that I learned. I fear forgetting the poor and losing my passion. I fear running out of that silly stuff called currency. I fear making the wrong choice. I fear the pain of being away from those I love. Yet, I am choosing to walk in His peace and trust that in all parts of the journey, He holds me. I can't misstep because either way He has me. As I search Him I find Him and isn't that the point? He cares about my career and life goals but above all that He cares about ME. And it's not about how I serve Him, it's about our relationship. He doesn't call me servant, He calls me friend (John 15:15).

For now, the tentative plan is to go and scope out both invitations to South Africa and to Cameroon to help with vocational training schools there.  They both sound glorious and I think visits there, though costly, will help me in my decision. It is a necessary next step. Meanwhile I am daily applying for jobs. Mostly with non-profits, just seeing if there is something out there that is meant for me that I may be missing. Something that may lead me to my path of becoming the next Condoleezza Rice, leaving no stone unturned. 

Thank you all for giving and continuing to keep me fed and provided for. I am undone by your sweet generosity. Thank you for listening as I mumble about what I am doing with my life and thank you for understanding. And as always, I covet your prayers. 

Love. 
Grace

Another day of being Grace

I fell down. 

December & January

Carla goes all out. 

getting a tire fixed at "Modern" Tire

Emma Grace rode with me to Anderson to collect our Galeria dos Sonhos items at Blvd Baptist. We stopped for a photo shoot. 

Happy 2014!

Emma Grace

Trespassing in Anderson, SC

Only this guy could get me into a Cracker Barrel. (On our way to Mammoth Cave)

This happened. It hurt. 

Natty at Mammoth Cave

My shadow.

Greatest Missionaries Ever. Go Mieze Goat Project!

for monty-

and all of you other kind souls concerned about me and my future.

Thanksgiving and Christmas and being home with my family for the holiday's was wonderful. The kids greeted me at the door and wrestled each other up the stairs to see who would get to show me their presents first. I loved watching them open gifts from me and was touched when Catherine opened her envelope and said, "Uh. You don't have any money. You shouldn't have." Oh her sweet, sweet heart.

Around New Year's I moved things from the attic of my Atlanta house and plan to go back again tomorrow to finally move my furniture. Emma Grace came to help me move. The Fallin's came and we shot fireworks.

Jan. 9th I left for Austin, Texas and spent five days there visiting with my friends the Gaspard's, getting the last of my possessions from fellow missionaries, Jim and Twyla Taylor and meeting with Iris Ministries Director, Heidi Baker. The food was out of this world, the fellowship, beyond words. It felt so good to be among my extended family. It hurt to say goodbye to Jim and Twyla, knowing they would be going back to Pemba without me. The Gaspard's have close friends with an orphanage in Guatemala and they want me to go there. I am waiting to hear back from the ministry there to see if my skills will fit their needs.

Meanwhile, my close friend Sherri would like for me to come to Cameroon and work with orphan girls there, establishing another vocational training school. I am not sure exactly what it would look like but there are opportunities to help a local farm and train the girls in making and selling goat's milk products. Apparently Cameroon has a much stronger economy than Pemba and we would have a market to sell all sorts of items.

Galeria dos Sonhos once again is still open thanks to the generosity of strangers who continue to buy our goods. Apparently the mayor of Detroit bought one of our ties! I took all the goods to Texas and sold enough to buy fabric and pay salaries for almost two months!

I am still strongly considering the opportunity in South Africa, but want to try to fit in visits to Guatemala and Cameroon in the near future. Iris Ministries also has a base in Southern Sudan in dire need of help. I have also applied for a handful of "real" jobs. You know, the kind that pay money on a regular basis and offer health benefits. Only a few of them fit the bill for allowing me to be able to be in Africa more often than not. I am seeking them out because I do want some training in the area of global development. I love that I got thrown into the deep end and learned day by day and in total faith during the last two years. I also believe that some academic training would help equip me also. There are some great organizations out there making huge strides in eradicating poverty.

Yet, there are simply not enough days spent with my family and friends. I still have not been to visit many of you. I still delight in all home cooked meals, trips to the grocery store, kale smoothies, magazines, a good book and the world wide web.

So that's the not very exciting update. The current plan is to map out a few months and raise a few funds to be able to travel to Guatemala, South Africa and Cameroon on a three month trip to evaluate those choices. If other opportunities arise, I will add them to the list. Kenya and Congo are also on the long list. I am excited about the possibilities and the future. I am loving life and so so happy to be home but anxiously awaiting the next place that I know will capture my heart.

See you on the tennis court, Monty. Be afraid.

oct-dec kinda lame but better than nothing pictorial

Home Sweet Home

Christmas with Natty the Over-Sized 5 Year Old

Happy New Year

No one loves me like Lynne Burke. Breakfast in Bed.

Abbeville, SC

The Country Living Fair Sister Date with Carla- Stone Mountain, GA

Hartwell, GA

Dahlonega, GA with Catherine (trying to convince her to go to North Georgia College!)

Emma Grace (trying to convince her that she is stunning and it is ok for me to put this photo on the internet)

My Sidekick

Road trip with Mom & Fran to Highlands, NC ( I don't do cold)

so sorry! i've been busy bathing and eating salad and using the internet.

A blank page. A white canvas and so so long overdue. I am alive and well and sitting in Reed Creek by a little fireplace. I came home in October and was swept away into a completely other world. A world in which I was very familiar but felt as if I were experiencing it as someone else entirely. A friend I have not seen in years just commented how she feels like it was just yesterday and little has changed. But I am not at all the same. I am a completely different person, walking around in my old wardrobe, meeting up with friends I have known forever. I try to squeeze into their lives and conversations and my heart wants to be there in these moments with them, but it is floating about above a village in Africa instead. I try to bring it back and relate to all that is culturally relevant in this beautifully familiar world, but it won’t come back and linger here for very long.

Every day is full and I feel the clock ticking. The TO DO list is forever long and I am a little overwhelmed with all I have to do yet. There are so many of you I have not seen and I apologize for that. I am not good at this. This living here 8 weeks out of the year. Since being home, I cannot begin to tell you what all I have been doing but I can count the days I had absolutely nothing to do. They are few. For now I am moving everything out of my house in East Point. I should have done it in the very beginning, but I had no idea what to do with it all and left it there for convenience sake. Now that I am most certain I won’t be back in Atlanta any time soon, I feel the need to have everything that I own under one roof and not scattered about between basements of friends and relatives. So this week I have been moving. And I will be moving still in the weeks to come.

Natty and I drove to Brandenburg, Kentucky and I got to meet Laura & John Steen’s newest addition, Baby Eryn who was born in March 2013. Baby Molly is no longer a baby and is all grown up and calls Nathaniel, Danielfaniel. Natty loved getting to play in the snow, was smitten with Hailey the Tween and was just the other day boasting to his big brother that he had a friend Owen, who was not his brother’s friend too, but just his and his alone. The time spent with Laura’s sweet family was way too short. We plan our ideal scenarios, where we are next door neighbors and pop in and out of each others' lives all day, but we have never even lived in the same time zone. Four days was such a tiny visit.  

I have been able to speak to several of you in the Hartwell area and share a little about the last year in Pemba. I love getting to talk about all that was accomplished and am quite amazed by it myself. You all played a part in it and it is just fun to see what was done by everyone giving a little.

The Galeria dos Sonhos project is still running well and each month I have no idea how we are going to sell anything. Then someone comes along and suddenly we have money again. To those who buy from us, THANK YOU. For those who would like to, let me know and I can send you an inventory of items. I have taken them off of our online site for the time being. If you know of a retail space who would like to sell our fair trade items, let me know.

Mozambique has been experiencing some pretty dire political unrest and recently a commercial plane (that my friends and I fly regularly) crashed with no survivors, apparently the pilot crashed the plane deliberately. This is the world over which my heart hovers.

Meanwhile I am here, wanting to see each and every one of you and sit really close and know what is on your heart. I want long chats by the fire and to watch Jeopardy! because what could be more glorious than that?

And then there is the really big question that even I am asking. What next? The answer is that I don’t know. If I had any inkling I would tell you. You will be the first to know. For now, I am only getting direction one order at a time. For now I am hearing, “You are on vacation. Stop fretting and REST." I am also certain it is time to physically move all my belongings into one space and lock them up. So in the next few weeks I hope to have everything I own in a little storage space in Reed Creek, tidy, organized, together and sitting quietly until further orders are received.

I have fulfilled my two year commitment to Iris Ministries and I do feel that I did what I set out to do. It was my intent to establish a school of vocational training and that we did. A vocational school, a language school and a small social business are now all up and running, with amazing leaders at the helm of each. If I were to return I would simply be an administrator, putting out fires and telling people where to go and what to do. That’s not me. The foundations have been built and that is me. I am The Foundation Establisher. Now I am simply looking for someone who wants a Foundation Establisher and who maybe wants one to come and go and come and go and come and go. I am trying to prepare myself for whatever that may look like. Living here and traveling or moving abroad again soon. I could write pages on this subject but will stop for now.

Thank you for giving to me, loving me so well and covering me in prayer.

Much love,

Grace

i'm back in my beloved South

the day after the whale watching i boarded a plane and flew to South Africa and then Atlanta. i'd been planning it for several weeks. it all began when i went to get my visa renewed and change my plane ticket. i had purchased it with dates at random a long time ago and had planned to change the dates to correspond with my visa. but when i went to change the flight that never costs anything, she told me i would have to buy a new ticket and that it could not be changed. i pulled out my credit card to just change it but something told me not to. a felt a check in my spirit and i knew i needed to give this more thought and prayer. so thought and prayer i gave it. and i knew i was not to spend the money on staying another month and that even though another month would give me more time with all our projects that there would never be a "good" time to leave. so i circled the date on the calendar and told no one. i decided why not surprise them. it's not every day you can show up at a field trip and surprise your sister and nieces and nephews. but i got to do just that. and the field trip included ice cream from a dairy in cleveland, georgia. so it was worth hiding in an office and explaining my story to strangers. my sister's face was priceless. my 5 year old nephew never left my side.

"Cat on Porch" - Abbeville, South Carolina

so, i'm home. and yes it feels wonderful to be back and back to "normal" and hot, running water and delicious food and family. but re-entry never gets easier. it just gets different. i no longer speak Portuguese to all the black people but i do find myself putting my keys and change from the cashier in my bra. i bathed twice a day for the first week, just because i could but now bathing is overrated and takes so much time and it's so hot in there. i see all these glaring flaws in our society and i find myself starring at people. we stare in mozambique. we spit too. i can't do that anymore.

i miss my friends and the school and my students. i just heard that the renamo have ended the peace pact they had with the frelimo since 1992. my heart aches. and then i get this message today. ROFI GOT A SCHOLARSHIP!!! sweet, precious Rofi. one of my students!! is going to UNIVERSITY!!!! and i want to be there to hug his neck. but i am here. in America with all these people on their cell phones.

i am spending a whole entire day with my sister tomorrow. just the two of us. something we have not done since my 32nd birthday- over four years ago. 

so i am good. i am happy and i will be okay. my taxes are in the process of getting done a little late and i am dealing with "real life" one day at a time. but my heart is there and i have no patience for your first world problems. but i still love you and i need you to love me too. 

more soon...

whale watching

A beautiful story from a friend of a friend: Pursuing Normal

This girl is amazing. She goes into war zones! She is my hero. She shows me there is hope for me yet in living between the two worlds of the West and the Third World. She loves and cherishes them both. That is a healthy place to be. Where you don't feel guilty in either one. She makes me feel normal for filling my online cart on J. Crew just for fun. This is probably one of the things I wrestle with the most as a "missionary", living between two worlds. Even my own world here in Mozambique is so divided- extreme beauty and extreme poverty. I consider our beach to be the most beautiful in all the world. At our Sunday service at the beach house, the view always commands my attention. It is breathtaking and I cannot take my eyes off it. It is expansive and turquoise and white. Whales were breeching in the distance. Blow spray high into the air and flapping their fins and tails. It is surreal to sit and watch. That is my view to the east, to the west are mud hut villages and garbage dumps and barefooted children scavenging among the rubbish. But I see the beauty in both. These tiny brown-eyed treasures.

A few nights ago I sat with a group of Zimbabwean and South African men who bashed our causes and made fun of missionaries and claimed the poor will always be and that is simply the way it is and you cannot help them. I can agree with some of their claims regarding ways in which the West try to help but only hurt the poor by giving handouts and only creating a cycle of dependency. But I cannot agree with standing idly by while the poor die and live in a world of injustice. I also understand that these men grew up with the extreme poor in their backyard and are familiar with their cultures. I think a lot about this and am careful not to fall into the cycle. I see it all so clearly- there are really poor people in the world, God told me to go help, so I did. I don't see how they can't have sympathy or at least a little bit of compassion. It all weighed heavy on my heart. As I prayed and asked God to show me the truth behind it all, I clearly heard Him say, "They're just ignorant." The wealthy, educated white men are the ignorant ones. I don't need them to join my plight or my cause. But I don't understand a world that doesn't have compassion on the poor. Even the Bible says the poor will always be among us. But that doesn't mean we have the right to look away and ignore it.

In the story above, Cassandra goes into a war zone and plants flowers. Something God told her to do to show love to a frightened people and bring HOPE. It is frivolous and it doesn't make sense but it brought hope and beauty to a village running from war and guns and dying. I do believe that we are called to be His hands and feet and the poor are our responsibility. Knowing your place is as simple as asking Him to show you who needs help day by day. It is the "wise" who are missing out on the simplest of truths. Politics aside, history aside, God called us to love and love does look like something. Somedays I am terrible at it. Other days I do a pretty decent job. But it comes from Him, and His eyes and His wisdom. The white men at the table the other night simply don't know the truth. I can't imagine living in their world, one where you fend for yourself and fight for worthless treasures. The treasures are in the garbage dump, y'all. The last place you'd ever look. And the answers to their plight may look like pansies in the dirt, which seems a little absurd. But I am finding God is like that- extravagant in love and mercy and kindness. And he sees the treasure in the scruffy, chain-smoking South African men. And I don't and He still loves me.

legit with labels

promises

The rainbow below showed up yesterday. I had left the sweat shop of the sewing school and went to sit by the sea and think. The schools and their responsibilities bring a certain amount of pressure and I go there to sort my thoughts. The English school is no longer my worry as Adele is running with that. Tim is only arriving tomorrow to begin Vocational School and the guy at the Kauri resort has not yet paid my students. I am furious. He promised them pay and a letter of reference. They've not received either. It's Mozambique. I have little recourse. But I do have my thoughts sorted now and he will rue the day he disappointed Mana Graça. The sewing school does bear a great deal of responsibility but just as it was created out of my simply being, I know it will continue out of that same place. I did meet this week with the hotel property manager about using their retail space and he is keen. He even offered me a job, but I turned him down. I thought about it though. But I even told him as he was making the offer that you could not pay me to live here. He didn't get it. So now we sweat and we sew and we make all that we can and all the rest of the time I strategize about how to sell this and make ends meet. Doing and Resting and finding the balance. I am not so good at it.

A friend has given me a little dingy bungalow on the beach for the week. I have finally slept. Only once did I sleep through the night but it did wonders. I could hear the waves crashing on the shore. But I woke in pools of sweat and wet hair. The bungalow was built in the 80's and nothing has been changed. It is a single room with a tiny loo and a teeny tiny "kitchen" with a mini-fridge. But I woke at 4am to views of little svelte Mozambican men pushing their wooden boats out for the early morning catch. I still can't breathe in my real house. Mold or something. There are lots of things to make you sick here and I guess if I had to choose this one is not so bad.

I've been sending bundles of our goods home to Georgia and I think I will have my choices of places to sell locally. I've been humbled by the response and am excited to be able to keep the business going. As I sat there by the sea worrying and unable to relax, something said stay and so I did. I got to see the promise in the sky and I know it will all be okay. God loves these women so much more than me and He's got them. He knows so well how to care for me and He will do the same for them. So I am resting in this. Working way hard and resting and somewhere in between.

I've heard rumors today about your government shut down and I am anxious to read up and hear more but I've sworn off politics. So tell me about the weather and the leaves. I am getting excited to join morning tennis and lovely mornings at the cabin. Some days their visions save me.