Life here in Africa requires a new level of vulnerability than I am used to. Have you ever been through phases of life like that? Times to grow and change? Times to self-reflect and question your own motivations behind your actions? Oh good, I’m glad we can just share a cup of tea and chat about it as old friends then.

Oh you know how it is here, how everything has changed. It goes so much further than those mystery hotdogs in the store. It’s not even the fact that Africa has found a way to make apple juice super different. Maybe it’s the sugar level. Maybe it’s the fruit. Maybe it’s the heat and the paper carton. Maybe it’s just everything.😉

But it’s in the transparency. Everyone knows how many bug bites you have. Everyone knows how dirty your feet are by the footprints left on the kitchen floor. And then there’s all your personable out on the back laundry line hanging out there in public for hours… and hours. Oh sure it’s just a part of this culture. It’s totally normal. A totally different normal for this modest lady.

Windows wide open. The general public may not understand our language, but the use of a parental tone, however infrequently, is cross-cultural. The baby’s crying transitions are highly familiar to our guards. Speaking of our sweet guards, want some vulnerable transparency? How about someone hearing your every conversation throughout the day while outside your home. Oh no, people, our guards are wonderful. Sweet men from the community. But still their mere presence bucks the American culture of privacy.

Their presence begging to question if privacy is indeed as critical as it was once termed. Oh friends, we have nothing to hide. We are who we are, you know? Mistakes and all. The good, the bad and the ugly.

No we’re not postcard to send home. No poster children here. Just real. And honestly transparent.

Vulnerability is not a negative trait.

Like how would you define vulnerability? Generally it’s pretty undesirable, huh? But Africa pushes me to redefine it and live in the new definition. Oh sure, I still cringe a bit at my underwear hanging out on the line. Super awkward still. Practical? Yes. Awkwardly immodest? For me, yes.

But there’s something about it all. A rawness to live in. No room for dreaming, creating an escape or living in an alternate reality. Oh no, right here is the beauty. Right here in the middle of the push. In the middle of the pinch and the stretching.

No, friend, it’s not comfortable. And then sometimes it’s just normal and there’s comfort in that. Normalcy to laugh at your own mistake in language, even when you’re a bit embarrassed. Nope, you really don’t remember the name of that type of cup today. It’s just gone. Like it never existed. And no matter how simple of a concept that may be, you’re still fighting to compose even a toddler sentence.

But I’m just thankful. It really is a privilege to be stretched. Nope, it doesn’t always feel like a privilege. And sometimes you just have to choke back tears and say “one moment at a time”. That’s how endurance is built. That’s how you build a new life. A new life with the same old people. The same old joy and thanksgiving and sorrow. In a new setting.


The song came to my ears from the kitchen windows as I hung the clothes on the line that morning. I wanted to get all the sunlight I could get. I had two loads to rotate out that day. Music has ministered so to our hearts here. From Eden dancing to a silly veggietale song to Disney song dance-breaks and worship songs. Soundtracks of familiarity have brought such joy. Such joy flooded my ears as I chewed on these thoughts that morning. And then the song lyrics hit, making brunch of these scrambled-egg thoughts.

“This cup, this cup I want to drink it up. To be right here in the middle of it. Right here, right here. This challenging reality is better than fear or fantasy.”

No, Lord, don’t let me pass this cup. Oh sure it has its bitter spots and its hurts. This cup has its fears and its challenges. But you have set this cup before me and I desire so to drink it up for Your glory. You know the best for me. You know to Whom you have called me and then to who you are sending me. Lord, may this cup of challenge overflow with delight and love onto others. Lord, but may I never forget amidst the transparent vulnerability that this cup is so worth drinking. This growth is for Your glory. Thank You for the reminder, sweet Father.

In Jesus’ Name.

– Yours.


We have enjoyed Left-Over Night (thanks for the idea, Brad and Julie!), rotating after 30 seconds at a time through the plates with the roll of the dice. We ate until we were full or the plate was gone. If you like the dish, then eat fast! Otherwise, fake eat.😉


We found Leechees (no idea how to spell it) at the store. Leechees are little fruits with a hard outer shell (don’t eat that!), squishy sweet inside and an olive-like pit (don’t eat that either!).


Matt and the girls like them, but I can’t get over the similarity to eating an eyeball – especially since Matt calls them “eyeball fruit”.


(Of course I didn’t ask her to pose for this picture. lol)

Oh and speaking of that cute kid, guess who lost a second tooth this past week?


(She carried that tooth around in that bag all day long.🙂 )

We found a park nearby and had some fun bonding with our house helper, Emilia, by playing together.

We’ve also enjoyed some outdoor water play with the warm 100 degree weather lately.



How’s that for some cool fall temperatures?😉


Hope you’re having some great days too! =)



City Church, Village Church

Our first Sunday here, we got the privilege of going to a nearby city church. Church here is long, but happily filled with many worship songs. Despite the patience test under hot and less comfortable conditions, I am thankful that Mozambicans have great joy in celebration of Christ’s gift of salvation. It’s loud and full of drums and clapping and even some dancing.

The following pictures were taken during Sunday school, which was divided up into age groups. Sunday school walks through a curriculum written by a missionary here, John. The curriculum explains our Christian faith and the Southern Baptist practice of Scripture.


Rachael and Abi’s Portuguese nurturer is Elsa, who is also the children’s Sunday School teacher at the city church.


Elsa is preparing to study English at the university, and therefore, was able to give the girls a few English cues to the Sunday School games they played. That Sunday they played a game of Cherades, guessing the animal a particular child acted out.


The girls really enjoyed participating and when Eden was tired of sitting quietly in the adult class, she also enjoyed watching the children’s games. As Eden becomes more comfortable, she will be able to stay beside her sisters in the children’s Sunday School.



I am thankful for Wanne’s help in easing Eden through this sometimes confusing transition.

In the city church, the children are free to sit or play with the other children outside when their attention spans give out. The littles and I made it until the sermon began (some hour+ into the service) before we enjoyed the sand outside.😉


We went to the village church building for a reading group last week, but the littles and I stayed home our second Sunday morning due to some sickness (it was all me, so no one panic. nothing serious ;)). The following are a few pictures I took of the village church while waiting for reading group to begin.

The village church is a dark mud/stick building constructed about a 30 minute drive from our home. The length of the drive is mostly due to rough roads requiring slow speeds verses physical distance. It was a bit surprising to me how much I felt like we were “in the middle of nowhere” when we were only just “across town” from our home. How quickly the scenery changed to the typical African village scene with it’s mud/stick homes, roaming chickens, and barefoot children running about.


Wanne and I brought Rachael with us to the reading group and we enjoyed sitting on our straw matt outside of the church building to go through a reading book with some 3rd-5th graders. Despite the sand blowing into our eyes, Rachael and I enjoyed our time there. In the pictures this church may look large, but in reality this church is VERY small, pretty dark, and contains 6-8 skinny log-benches in two rows with a middle aisle. There is one door in the front right of the designated altar area and one door in the back of the building. A barebones tin-roof tops the little church building and sunlight comes in through stick window slats.


These are the two churches we will be getting familiar with and attending for the next while as we continue our Portuguese and culture learning. =)


Ok, ok, so it’s spelled Lagartijia, but it sounds like the above. Yep, that’s right, Mozambican Portuguese adopts some Spanish words.

But Rachael found and caught one! In our house! And the girls all LOVED it!


Ciao, lagartijia!

Since then we’ve been on the hunt for lagartijia! When we take our semi-daily walks in the morning (still getting into a routine here), in the backyard… always on the hunt… the prowl…. to catch our next one.

Lagartijia everywhere beware.😉

Speaking in Tongue (Ha!)

Today marks our first day of language acquisition. We are using a Growing Participator Approach (GPA) where a nurturer comes to our home for three hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon. The afternoon sessions will be used to get us out in the community while using our nurturer as our guide.

The first 30-40hours of our language acquisition is not like other foreign language programs. In the first 30-40 hours we are exposed to over 300 words and are required to respond to them nonverbally. In fact, we may not speak at all during these first lessons. Not. a. word.

We are being trained to listen. Our brain is being trained to differentiate sounds and interpret them. We are not to imitate sounds yet, just to listen and respond to the information through body language. We won’t retain all the words. But through the process of mass exposure and training our ears to listen, we will become familiar with the a large amount of vocabulary and be able to master hundreds of words as this process continues. We are encouraged to think of it as an iceburg; large base of vocabulary, small surface of mastered words. The more we add to the base, the more pops out of the water into the mastery world.

After a few days of being here, Wanne (pronounced Vonnie) and I decided it would be best for Rachael and Abi to also have a Portuguese nurturer to better prepare them for school. Rachael does not know this yet (nor are we going to tell her this far in advance to keep her nerves at bay), but she will have an entrance exam before being enrolled in third grade at school. She will be tested on math and Portuguese. While the school knows that she will fail her Portuguese test and this will not affect her placement, they would like to know where she specifically is starting in her education. There is no concern for her Math scores. She has already tested into the middle of third grade in the States and the school has already guaranteed her a spot. Abi will not be tested before entrance.

Beyond the testing, we thought it most helpful to have Rachael and Abi learn some Portuguese before entering a strictly Portuguese environment. So Rachael and Abi will be following the GPA approach as well with a nurturer, Elsa, whom they have already come to love. Elsa has completed secondary school (high school) and is currently scheduled to test into university to study English, with hopes of a future career in translation or teaching. Elsa knows some English and has already been helpful in, as the Sunday School teacher of the children’s class, helping Rachael and Abi with a few English words in order for them to more fully participate in Sunday School. Elsa is gentle, sweet and a bubbly smiler. The girls are VERY excited at the chance to work with Elsa.

We covet your prayers during this process of language acquisition. Specifically, please pray for all of our frustration levels with being mute for the first 2+ weeks of language. Please pray that we would fight valiantly through our hiccups and that God would bless us with understanding and discernment in grasping vocabulary and letting go of others. Please also pray for the two littles, Hannah and Eden, as they continue to make adjustments to our GPA schedule.

Thank you for your love and care for us.

We can’t wait to hear what’s happening in your world too! =)

Your Voice in Our Lives

When adjusting to cultural stress, we’re thankful for familiar family voices that read us fun picture books and chapter books. Some recordings were given us before we left and some were emailed to us recently. Some books are from their childhood and some are best sellers from today, but each one is treasured because of the voices we miss so much. Those voices bless us even more than the stories. 

Thank you, Aunt Kat and Uncle Stephen! Today we listened to the Pinkalicious stories and some of the Pete the Cat ones. 

They blessed us so. 

Ni Zan Je (I Will Go)

While at orientation we had a cross-cultural night for Sub-Saharan Africa. You may remember me sharing about that in an earlier entry. We sang many songs from all over sub-saharan, form the west African coast to the south and the east. But two songs were dear to us in the mix of worship. Why were two dear to us? Well, because of these wonderful people:


Jenna shared a song, Yallah Bahkna, with us in Wolof (a language of Senegal). Yallah Bahkna is a familiar tune to many of us: God is so Good. =) The girls still sing it. And I instantly miss Jenna and wish I could just hug her. Hannah’s the worst at it. Blast that kid for remembering that song!😉 It catches me off guard. In those moments I’m not prepared to miss Jenna. Ok, I need to stop talking about this before I can’t finish this- ugh.

Then there was one song that surprised me during cross-cultural worship, but just fit us all so well. It surprised me because I couldn’t sing it for the longest. I can butcher any language, just ask the Mozambicans.😉 But practice and practice and practice and… you get the idea. It’s a simple repeating tune with one chorus that sinks deeply into our hearts and minds. Ni (Nee) Zan (zahn) Je (Jay). It goes like this:

Ni zan je da Yesu ko ina (I will go with Jesus anywhere)

Ba damu da gargada hanya ba (No matter the roughness of the road)

Ni zan je (I will go), Ni zan je! (I will go!) And then repeats again and again.

We alternated between the English and the Hausa language singing the chorus through in just the Hausa and just the English interchangeably. And it caught on like wildfire.

We sang this tune with traveling about as a family on the orientation campus. And anyone from the sub-saharan group would just join on in singing it since we all knew it well. We sang this song in celebration of arriving off the train from New York after the long and tiring journey. And (I have to take a moment here to gather myself)… we sang this together as a group as we hugged and said goodbye to our dear sub-saharan family at orientation. Through tears. We sang it. In celebration. And heartbreak. And view of the journey ahead for each of us.

Ni Zan Je.

When we pulled onto the street in front of my in-laws house after orientation, my girls broke out in the song.

I will go with Jesus anywhere! I love how they first sing it in Hausa. It reminds me of a dear friend. One I couldn’t look in the eyes when we departed. It hurt too much. But one that I know we will see again. And I am thankful. – Love you, Angela.

Ni Zan Je has become a theme song of celebration for our family. And a topic of conversation amid hardship.

And Sunday after a long morning of new church adjustments, I found this little one singing it at the lunch table. Unprompted her little two year old voice arose in natural expression.

I will go with Jesus anywhere

No matter the roughness of the road

I will go, I will go…


Little does she know all that lies around the corner. Tomorrow our house worker will come. New faces. New norms. Mommy will become needed for language study. Daddy too. And someone else’s arms will have to comfort… even when she just wants Mommy.  Someone who can’t be understood and doesn’t understand you. But “Ba damu da gargada hanya ba”, little one, WE will go.

Let’s sing it together, sweet baby.

One step at a time down this rough road.

– Love you, little Eden

– Thankful for flexibility as we transition into our new norms.

Week 1 in Africa

Wow, has it already been a week since we left the US?! My goodness! Let’s continue where the story left off. So we got to Moz, stayed with some dear colleagues, and headed to Q on a 6+ hour trip to our language study city.

“What was your favorite part about traveling to Q?” I asked them while flipping through the pictures in my mind. Stick houses. Cement houses. Brick houses. Burnt houses (sadly). Tents. Abandoned houses. Open markets. Sand and wild brush everywhere. Young children wandering. Freedom found in piles of sand and water jug companions. Hours of balancing things on heads. (I even saw someone carrying a hand plow on their head!) Goats on shoulders on motorcyclists. Whole families piggy backing on a traffic-dodging Yamaha. Semi truck flatbeds overloaded with a blur of crates, chickens, people, farming tools, bags, groceries, water jugs and so much more. Sometimes we would pass a man sleeping on the top of a fully loaded cargo bundle on a semi bed. …

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                          (yes, that’s my guitar strapped to the top of the car!)

img_7122img_7123The oldest three road with car seats ratchet-strapped into the trunk.

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It was hot and bumpy so we had one car sickness victim who later enjoyed the Dramamine side effects.😉


When surveyed independently each of their responses were the same: “Peeing in the portable potty outside” was the best part of the trip.

Did I mention that there are no public bathrooms in Moz?😉



With settling in at the new house we also got a chance to see around a bit, visiting Rachael and Abi’s future school (by Feb 2017 since the school year ends soon), a local grocery, and city church. I’ll let the pictures share themselves. Enjoy!

Our House: (I am obviously not sharing the view from the street for security reasons.😉



I love how bright and colorful Wanne made the girls bathroom with a cute shower curtain. Such thoughtfulness in making it a fun kid space.

Each bedroom has a bathroom and due to current preference and transitions, the girls are all sharing one room/bathroom.


They transition better together.

Rachael and Abi’s new school starting in early Feb 2017 (on the African school schedule).

A local grocery store (complete with frozen squid!):


And once we learn to drive (a stick on the lefthand side of the road) and the driving “rules”, here’s how we’ll ride in our new car (the exterior is also not pictured for security purposes).😉


Yep, this week has been a blessing! We visited a city church this morning, but I’ll share about that later.

Up on the agenda for this week?

  • our house helper joins the mix tomorrow and starts to get familiar with the kiddos
  • Matt and I will start language school Wednesday or Thursday of this week
  • and another week of settling, transitioning and getting used to our new norms.

Love you all, take care!


Our Adventure to Africa

We started out Monday morning at 4a (EST), showering and packing up yesterday’s dirty clothes into the one carry-on we brought into the hotel last night. Thank you, Lord, that the kids slept well, even if I woke at 2:30a and couldn’t get back to sleep.

4:30a (EST) produced four sleepy, but happy little girls. Last night’s clean, wet hair still held their braids tight form the night before. Their last night’s pajamas were today’s new clothes. Brushed teeth, shoes and we were walking out the door. We met Aunt Sarah in the hallway and Grandma and Grandpa in the hotel lobby. Such warmth. They made this early morning so joyous. Love them so.

Curbside at a few minutes until 5am (EST), we met two more warm faces. Goga and Gopa. Love them so. Extra hands to unload two vans of carseats, baggage, kids, and the kitchen sink.😉 It felt like days at the ticket counter checking in all the bags, but freedom hit with each one passing on the conveyer belt. One less to drag around…. For now.😉 While we smiled at each Delta received bag, the kids laughed and played in a nearby open space, soaking in their lasts of Gopa, Grandpa, and Aunt Sarah for a good while. Ugh. Their lasts. That still hurts.




Smiles, a beautiful prayer, a few tears and much love found us waiting in the security line. Broken conveyer belt after we loaded all our luggage through resulted in me and the children catching bags from the next line over’s conveyer belt while Matt waited on repairs to send the rest of the bags through. The girls played and sang from the floor by the mound of luggage as we awaited the search through one bag. Each item rubbed with the magic wand. Minutes passing by as we inched toward our departure time. Lord, please help us not to miss that plane. Guess we’ll do breakfast in NY.

“Let’s book it, little people!” Stroller mounded with luggage, the oldest two rocking the airport shuffle, a toddler riding my carry-on backpack, and a free dancing four year old frolicked through an otherwise stressful haul to our gate. Gate check-in lady was wonderful, putting us at ease that though we were the last ones on the plane there was no rush. “Feel free to get settled,” her smile warmed our hearts. Wanna come too? 😉 Thank you, Lord, as we taxied onto the runway. A quick hop to NY.

Two hours passed quickly, but found time for a bagel, some smoothie and a happy pack of rambunctious kids playing in the airport window. I love how they can find a game anywhere. You’re welcome, NY, for Eden and Hannah’s rendition of the Frozen ballroom scene. You’re welcome.😉 A video from Jenna and Angela that brought light to their eyes. “I love you, Angela. I love you, Jenna. Bye-bye” the baby leaned in to share as a confidant to the phone. “Bye, we love you!”Hannah said simultaneously. They weren’t staged. Love just pops out like that.

On the plane first (yay for having little kids), carry-on’s stowed and seatbelts applied we sighed. The seats felt luxurious for the first 5 minutes.😉 The first few hours were filled with chit-chat and coloring. Crying was abated thanks to a bag of stickers that we milked for 45 minutes of toddler joy. Thank you, Lord, for stickers. A strange lunch, but enough to fill our bellies some. A movie and then an attempt at bedtime.😉 Sleeping preferences are definitely horizontal, but the kids really fought hard at doing their best. Hannah with the two-seat stretch, Rachael and Abi rocking the vertical and Eden fish-flopped all night long in my arms. But at least she slept. They fought hard for sleep. And they conquered a good 5-6 hour stretch. Thank you, Lord, for some sleep for these little ones.

6a (Africa time), our 1a (EST) bodies won the fight for three of us, resulting in a series of airsickness episodes. Thank you, Lord, for flexible kids. Thank you, Lord, for your calm. I knew it would find us. Motion sickness for the win. Rachael was the first victim. The toughest fighter resulting in less-stained clothing. Then it was me, the gene-source. Sorry, kids. 7a (Africa time), 2a (EST) hit Hannah’s stomach post-landing resulting in a mess. She fought through it valiantly. We rolled up pant legs. And pretended like she didn’t stink. Hugs and time fixed tears. South African soil healed stomachs.

Our dear colleagues who were on our same flight proved through with shining colors, playing hide and go seek with the girls, scratching backs, tickling and listening to hours of stories coming out all in 7 minutes of excited delivery. Baggage kinks worked out with companionship. Goodbye hugs at our flight gate. The little two waving and smiling through the window to our new friends and Maputo team leaders, the Jacksons. We love them so already. Instant family.

Despite nearly leaving the toddler (Who was supposed to be holding her hand?), a crowded bus took us to the tinker-toy airplane. Bags stowed once again. No toys out this time. Surprisingly smooth take-off, 5a (EST – 11a Africa time), and Dramamine produced instant naps for four of us. The two oldest rested well and then enjoyed some coloring books. Africa out the window. A beautiful, vast savannah. Mystery. Wonder and then clouds.

Altitude hit our ears upon the descent. Discomfort found warm arms and calming reassurance. Gum for all! Applesauce for all! Prayers and patience for all! Only one hop on the landing and AT. LAST. We erupted with joy in our hearts. NO MORE PLANES!!!! NO MORE TRAVEL!!!! FINALLY! HERE!!!!

Patience waits for most to evacuate before strapping on our bags. No rush. Customs is next. We know we’ll be the last ones. We’re just here. Just soaking it in. The beautiful red dirt that we know will stain our clothes all too soon shone in the sunlight. Familiar pictures became people in the airport windows. “At last!” radiated on our faces and bounced in our steps. Instant summer breeze. Goodbye airplane light jackets! One worker after another. No idea what they said. Smiles cover language barriers. Pictures overcome words. Prayers lifted up. Customs was coming.

The girls danced, laughed, sang and lay on the floor at our feet. Immigration papers finally complete. We knew we’d be the last ones. No rush. The longer we stayed the better chance our colleague could make it in to help translate/negotiate at customs.  And then the man of the hour came in the baggage claim door. Instant peace. Taylor grabbed our bags off the carousel as passports were stamped. Bags. And bags. And bags. Moving with four kids looks crazy. Just crazy.

Duck-duck goose while they talked to customs. Airport workers smiled. Kids bring delight. Curly hair for the win!😉 Oblivion to their comments. Happy to live in the unknown for the time being.😉

This worker, not that worker bag transfers to the car. Ignorance claims at outreached hands. No extra money today. No extra help today. Seven kids crammed in the truck AC while inventorying bags. Such giggles. Such delight at the window lever to roll down the windows. Hahaha. Kids are hilarious. Foreign world delights found in 1980’s norms.😉


A short ride to the house. Faces peering out the windows drinking in Mozambique one dirt road and shanty at a time. Haitian design patterns played out in Mozambique flare. Some poverty looks are universal. The first breathing of home. Thank you, Lord. Just thank you.

Dirt, dirt and more dirt delights in the backyard. Instant hospitality. Spaghetti devouring. Warm bath water produced happy and clean bedtime candidates. One toddler tantrum endured and then 7:30p (1:30p EST), when kid sleep hit hard. I made it for an hour of convo. Sweet friends. Sweet, sweet friends. Suddenly my eyes rolled closed. Couldn’t fight it any longer. 8:30p (2:30p EST), Matt and I hit the pillow. 11p (5p EST) a knock comes at the door. The bread store next door began kneading tomorrow’s bread. New noises. Two sets of nervous eyes. Defining new norms, two handfuls of grapes (it was 5p in their confused world!), and a cup of juice sent Hannah and Abi, and Eden who had joined the confusion, reassuringly back to their beds. Thank you, Lord, for their confidence.

7a (1a EST) light peaked under the blacked-out window. Could it be? Had they all slept?! Four little ladies and one husband continued to enjoy their sleep. A few small attempts at leaving messages of love and story-sharing with our beloved Americans.😉 Smiles from our colleagues. Praise for super flexible sleeping children. An 8:30a (2:20a EST) kid wake-up. Africa schedule begins. Pancake smiles. Wonderful little friends. Play, imagination, and a little Portuguese curiosity filled the backyard. Live chickens to see produced today’s lunch. Education flourished. Played out in a nearby dirt-pile fire. That poor paper got the neck-break and was roasted on the pile of mango tree leaves. A broken plate used as a knife to prepare the unripe mangoes into the bucket-pot soup. There would be a wonderful spread offered for lunch.😉


Wonderfully roasted chicken and soft rice smothered in beans. Mmmmmm. Lunch was good. Full bellies and happy people. The household littles all down for a nap. No signs of any jetlag. It’s as if 6 hours in the future never happened. As if Africa were just in our backyard and yesterday we decided to move next door. Newness still stings some times. Tears happened at the bar of soap. “It’s not my normal,” realizations hit a small six year old. Hugs. Understanding. Newness acknowledged. Letters opened for Mozambique TCK’s (Third Culture Kid). Sweet words of love and new friendships opened. Such family we find in the Body of Christ. Such beautiful family. Thanks, Nalls.

(And for those of you curious people, no we did not bring that table with us. ;P)

Suitcase retrieval hopes bring Matt and Taylor to the airport. Phones unlocked, new phones and meticals (Moz money) collected. Provision errands. Pantry bulking options. All preparations for tomorrow’s drive coming at 6a (midnight EST). The trek to our language city awaits! Six hours until we see our new house. And the settling into the newness – our newness begins to unfold.

THIS is our adventure to Africa!

– Thankful, grateful and beyond blessed.

Wherever You Would Call

It’s our last sunrise on American soil for a good long time. 

And our first sunset somewhere over the Atlantic. 

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders.

Let me walk upon the waters,

Wherever You would call me.

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander.

And my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior!

~ “Oceans” by hillsong.

~ 14 hours until our feet hit foreign soil.🙂