hemo

Another Sunday- it followed another Saturday and introduced another Monday, but other than that, it was like no other Sunday Ive experienced before. I was asked to join the Holili ministry team as they were scheduled to love Jesus with another village church. This time we went to Hemo. Again, we drove down the "paved" roads, to the dirt roads, to the partial dirt/ partial air roads- this to imply that the holes in the road were so deep that much of the time the right tires tread dirt as the left tires tread air. At this point, this is expected and depeding on my chosen attitude- even fun... that's a stretch though! We pulled onto a street located way off of the main road, next to a house serving as a church. Worship had begun and as we entered, we danced our way to our seats at the front of the room. This room was much smaller, but full of about the same amount of people (thirty, maybe thirty five). Worship was alive, the instrumentals provided by the pastors 12 year old son. He was pretty rad and the scene was photo worthy, in that he was so little and wearing a super cool 80's stripe tee, standing against this rather large silver keyboard- rocking out. He was great! truly! I had not yet asked permission to shoot though so I respectfully click clicked with my heart instead. The voice to the worship was provided by a 27 year old man, who did what he had to do. His love for Jesus was eminent and as he pursued Christ, everyone else was influenced to do so also. At one point a beautiful lady in red grabbed the mic and her voice plus her passion plus her smile exploded the worship. Truly beautiful. I danced and worshiped along with my Tanzanian brothers and sisters, minus some of the freedom they were dancing in but I was shakin' it for Jesus. Another special something for me from Him- a gift I readily accepted and whole heartedly appreciated- He loves me, y'all!

As worship was winding down, Mama Alice grabbed the mic and told the congregation that the Lord's healing was in the house. She asked that everyone in need step up. Many did, but there was one special one that my heart leapt for. She was the first one prayed for, about nine years old. She had a shaven head (as many African women and children do), she wore a purple shirt and skirt outfit that was much too large for her, and black shoes. She was unable to move her legs and her right arm on her own, yet she stood and waited on the Lord. I ran to join Mama Alice in prayer over the young girl, Beatrice. I was told to by my King. I stood with her, laying hands on her... her hands, her arms, her feet, her legs, her head, her heart... until long after the prayers for healing ended. It was whispered to me by the Bishop who pastored this church, that Beatrice had broken her leg while playing out in a field with friends. That night as she lay in bed, she began to speak in an unknown language with a new voice. Her family knew that she was possessed by something. At this point, it had been months since the occurance and the mother had moved herself and Beatrice to Hemo to be close to this church. She was determined to stay until Beatrice was free. FREE. I cried out for her freedom and I believe for it.
As service began I sat with Beatrice, still in tongues, not wanting to cease prayer. Service was filled. The message was timely and reached hearts. One thing was said that broke me and challenged me... "if you arent contributing to the salvation of your nation, you are contributing to it's death!" wow! My heart heard that loud and clear. What is my impact on the nations... but more so, on my nation- America!? What is my contribution- Life or Death?! At one point, I crossed the room back to my seat... and my water. I was so thirsty! After service, there was more worship.... awesome worship! The seats were moved and everyone stepped into the center of the room and rocked out. Mama Alice moved throughout the room, swinging and twirling all the mamas! It was free and alive and fun! Everyone smiled from ear to ear.... and the Lord recieved the most beautiful praise and worship.
Before leaving America, a most beautiful woman (Paula) gave me a prayer shawl ,which she and some other beautiful women had knit- "each stitch stiched with prayer." She asked that I pray and give the shawl away as God leads. I had brought the shawl with me to this service and I knew that I knew that I knew that it was to be gifted to Beatrice. When worship had ceased and entire congregation had been kissed, hugged, and high fived, Alice and I approached Mama Beatrice and Beatrice to present to her this gift. It was wild to watch the shift within both mama and child as I shared with them (through Goudy's translation) God's desire for them to be gifted the shawl. The pictures represent well... the frown turned upside down. That is the cheesiest way I could choose to word this most beautiful perfect moment... trust me, I'm dissapointed in myself, but... I lack words in these situations and it is truth. This mama and child, living in an oppression they have no real understanding of, felt, in an "all of a sudden" moment, the grace and mercy and joy and peace and hope and love Love of Jesus and ....well, just watch the facial expressions change as the camera captures the Jesus magic moment by moment... check out that glow... only Jesus can cause that beauty After service, we were invited to the Bishops home for eats. His home was beautiful. Decorated in the style of the early fifties. Green couch cushions with a blue and white crochetted cloth laid over it, wooden furniture, lots of open space, white walls. The art on the walls fascinated me. When Africans want to vear away from African art and into a more Western style art, there arent many other options. Somehow a few families have gotten a hold of posters- some with kittens or puppies, others with little children- often there is a scripture or peom on them. These hang on the walls of these beautiful homes! It fascinates me. Anyway, the food was delicious. The company was entertaining and life-giving. This experience was yet another gift! When our time in the Bishops home had ended, Bishop asked that we leave our gathering in a spirit of worship... through worshiping. We gladly obligued and Brian, the 12 year old son was set up with his keyboard. The whole house offered Jesus thanksgiving through perfect, pure, completely beautiful (even when completely off tune) worship... in swahili and english. Voices rang, hearts cried out, raw and deep and real. The quality of voice and sound didnt matter... the words and truth behind it broke our Kings Heart. This is life. This is it.

total side note: the bishop's choo (cho)... first notice the lack of t.p., then notice the green bucket full of water and the smaller white bucket within...

On the way home, we decided to climb the mountain through Morongu headed towards the waterfalls. The drive up the slopes was amazing. Morongu is a tiny mountainside village, beautiful funky wooden and tin metal shacks intertwined with wild greens and tropical colored florals. The roads were awful.... you've never driven roads like this. Alices old school suv handled them like a champ. After much up and down, back and forth, over the river and through the woods, we found the office of the tour guides to the falls. We parked the car and climbed down to the office (wooden shack). We each recieved a walking stick and then set out on our adventure down the mountain, toward the falls, wearing.... our church gear- kongas and flip flops... let me just say, not smart and not practical but not gonna stop us. We were off. I was not expecting the difficulty of this descent. I nearly lost my footing and life multiple times. The tour guide continually offered me his hand, which I proudly- I am woman, hear me roar- refused.... until we reached the river. We were instructed to take off our shoes to ensure better grip as we crossed over via rocks. The first few rocks I handled like a expert... however, as the waters got faster and the rocks more and more narrow and slippery, I very quietly and smoothly held out my hand for the guide to hold and "guide" me with. I mean, he's a guide after all... I gotta let the man do his job, right! Okay, so apparently this was another opportunity for humbling. I was humbled. Safely arriving on the other side of the river, we continued on toward destination falls barefoot. Over rocks, up little hills, through puddles of mud and water we traveled until little dustings of water rained on us... we looked up from our feet and beheld... the waterfall. It was beautiful! It was magestic! It was water... falling from higher up than we were! We took pictures. We high fived. We turned and began our ascent to home. Well, first there was a slight decent as we traveled down hill to the river, we crossed the river, slipped on flip flops, and then we began our ascent to the office and the car, then we descended down the mountain in the old school suv towards home. details details details. God is a God of details... and like Father, like daughter... at least in this one thing. Im working on the rest of it! It was a beautiful day full of beautiful experiences... ones that few are afforded and I do realize this and I will never forget any of them.
On our way home, we decided we were hungry and so headed to Indoitaliano for pizza. The five of us chatted and ate and then, once filled, departed for home... all smiles... exhausted full smiles...

(and with left overs... which I only mention because our left over pizza gave us food poisoning the next day. No joke. I almost dont want to mention this bc i risk taking away from the "oooooooooooo" and "aaaaaaaaaaaaa" of the service and the falls... but its the completion of the story and I am a woman of complete stories. It's true, I leave no details out. And even with the minor detour of a super "ewww" sickness, God was at work and still is. Ive had some raw moments this week and have even had to appoligize to a few of my loves for yucky drama. I hate regretting words... but I have to believe that even in those moments, He can still make good happen. He's breaking me. He's humbling me. He's blessing me. K, Im done. love love love