Bug bites and Easter

I had an idea in mind to post. I was waiting to give people time to post about Emilia. But then I had a moment with the Lord this morning and wanted to post about it too. So here we go... two completely unrelated bits from my life. I'll start with the not so serious, as I think it is easier to transition from there.

Since being here in Angola Jon and I have been itchy.

Seriously, there are so many bugs and so many unidentifiable bites it is crazy. I believe our bed has fleas, or something of the like. I have tried washing them. They come back. Seems to be a usual problem with the missionaries here.My husband has decided he would rather itch until he has a scab because it feels better. Not me. I try slapping. I don't want scars.

I get these weird red bites that are flat, not raised, not itchy, just red. They only stick around for a few hours. I guess it could be worse. Jon's tummy is covered in little red bites. Sometimes he goes at it, itching and itching. I tell him to stop.

The other day in the shower I noticed a tiny bug. I thought it might be a flea, but when I tried to brush it off there was no jumping. No coming off at all. I ended up having to pick the bug out with my finger nails. Sick, huh? That night it happened about 5 or 6 times. I would feel a little bite, and sure enough I had to pick another little bug out. Thankfully it has not happened again.

One night Jon and each had a light and we were examining our body, looking for bugs and bites. I had to laugh. I told Jon, "Never in America."

(Must say that just as I was writing this, I picked a little flea-ish bug off my arm. Lovely.)

Now how should I transition to Easter from this?

I've decided there is no possible nice transition. Sorry.

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This morning during our regular meeting, we sang the song "Hosanna"

I see the king of glory
Coming on the clouds with fire
The whole earth shakes
The whole earth shakes

I see his love and mercy
Washing over all our sin
The people sing
The people sing

Hosanna
Hosanna
Hosanna in the highest

I see a generation
Rising up to take their place
With selfless faith
With selfless faith

I see a near revival
Stirring as we pray and seek
We're on our knees
We're on our knees

Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like you have loved me

Break my heart from what breaks yours
Everything I am for your kingdoms cause
As I go from nothing to
Eternity


It got me thinking about that day when Jesus came into Jerusalem, riding on a donkey, as people threw down their cloaks, shouting 'Hosanna', preparing the way for the Lord. That is one place I wish I could have been; I can almost feel the energy of the people.

It actually says that 'the disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen...'. Interesting, huh? Never noticed the miracles part.

I also believe that people did not own many clothes back then. To throw their cloaks to the ground to be trampled by a donkey was probably more of a sacrifice than we think.

This was and is my prayer:

That this week I would throw everything important to me at the feet of Jesus. Everything I deem "worthy" in myself, I would lay it down in front of Jesus. That I would prepare the way inside of my heart for the Lord to come. And at the end of it all, I would be left crying out, "Hosanna! Hosanna in the Highest!" for all the miracles He has done.

Honoring Emilia and Her Suffering

After hearing a few stories from people, I realized that Emilia’s final days of life: her suffering, her courage, her cries to our Savior, they not only touched my life, but the lives of many around the world.


In order to honor Emilia, to honor her suffering, Jon encouraged me to ask you guys to take a moment and to post how her story has impacted you, whether small or large. I thought it was a great idea.


I would ask you to focus on her, not my actions during those days. I truly believe her death, the very way she died, had purpose in the kingdom of God.


I will post mine here, but feel free to write in whatever form you wish, even just one sentence.


To be honest those three days have changed me forever; I feel like I different person. Every few weeks I stop and dwell on those three days; I do not want to forget. The tears are good; no longer questioning or full of pain.


My passions: Seeing Emilia die in such discomfort has made ministry to the sick and dying a priority to me. For as long as I am able, I plan to give a portion of my time to those approaching the end of this temporary life.


My awareness of the temporary: Those three days seemed so long. In those moments I could not imagine how God could allow suffering to continue like that; my soul anguished at the sight. Now looking back, it was temporary. Emilia made it; she finished her race. Her temporary life was over. Everything on this earth, good and bad, is temporary.


My view of suffering: I found a rare beauty in suffering, a fellowship with Christ that is unable to be attained in any other way.


My trust in God: Emilia forced me to rely on God. The things her death demanded of me were not possible in my own strength, yet as her needs surfaced one by one, the Lord enabled me.


The greater good: Emilia suffered for the greater good. She suffered to teach me, to change me. Now that I am changed, more people will be impacted by the love of Christ.


African Fabric

I've said how I love African fabrics...

When I have a permanent home, I plan to make curtains, pillows, table cloths, place mats, etc. The prices seem so reasonable to me! (All but the blue fabric cost less than $2) For now I wear them as wraps... as most of the women do.

Aren't they pretty?

Day at the Small Market

We went to the small market this afternoon. I am a bit hesitant now, since having a rude experience a couple times ago. Normally, I am very friendly, and they too respond very nicely. Many smiles and laughing. Every now and then there is some confusion, but nothing that can’t be overcome and giggled about.

One day recently though, there were a couple of rude women. They wouldn’t give us the price we had paid before, which was annoying, but then when we paid what they were asking, they wouldn’t give us a plastic bag like they normally do. When we asked, she tucked the bags close next to her and said she didn’t have any, even though I could see them right there. I was frustrated; feeling like it was because I was white. I let it bother me for a bit.

Today though, it was better; we had such a nice time. The ladies we so friendly as we chatted about the crazy amount of rain we had. Even though I wasn’t buying much, they added a little for free. I was blessed. Now, every good experience I have I am thankful for. I will remark to Jon in the car, “They were so nice today!” with my big smile across my face.

Veggies and other food at the market are cheap! Examples:

4 or 5 small tomatoes – 50 cents
3 or 4 onions – 50 cents
2 big avocados – 50 cents
4 or 5 small green peppers – 50 cents
3 ears of corn – 1 dollar
5 sweet potatoes – 1 dollar
A big cabbage – 2 dollars
Bag of beans – 2 dollars
A fresh loaf of bread – 50 cents
10 small donut things with sugar – 50 cents

(Veggies I miss: lettuce, cucumbers, green beans)

At the super market we can find some other things we like such as:

10 large frozen chicken breasts – 8 dollars
6 apples – 3 dollars
Top deck candy bar – 2.5 dollars (totally worth it every now and again)
A soda is about 1 dollar

Beautiful material is really cheap as well. A wrap for about $1.50 or nice material for $5

There are things you will find that lean towards the expensive side, but nowhere near what we were bracing ourselves for. Praise God! We are both very content and feel like living here moderately is quite doable. One thing I will stock up on in South Africa or Mozambique is spices! Bouillon cubes (Mozambique had great beef curry ones), garlic salt, curry powder, cayenne pepper, etc. They don’t have much variety if any here. Boo!

(Pics sometime... they take forever to upload! Check www.jonandlayne.com for a few)

Angolan House Visit

We just returned from our visit to Paulina and Beatrice’s sick mother. We met them in church two weeks ago, and they came by on Saturday to see if we would pray for their mother. Of course we would! Then we made arrangements that today, Monday, we would like to go to their house and pray with their mother in person.

We arrived at their home, which was impressively nice. Paulina and Beatrice welcomed us graciously and then we sat on the couches and prayed shortly before going to their mother’s room. Walking into their mother’s room, it was dark and there she sat with her legs straight out in front of her. They were thin. So thin. It is as if when you get sick here, you lose all fat on your body. She was wearing a lovely blue skirt, matching top and head-dress. When I commented on how stylish she looked there in bed, they told me she knew she was having visitors today. Precious.

We told her, through Paulina’s translation, how happy we were to be there with her.

She is about 73 years old, and has been a Christian since she was young. She was married at about 14 years old and at some point did three years of Bible training. She has known other American missionaries. Her husband died a few years ago, who also was trained in the Bible. Now she has remained sick for 5 years. She has been to many doctors and has had many treatments, but they don’t know what is wrong. Honestly, for here in Africa, 73 is a long and full life. I don’t think death is what is troublesome as much as the pain.

We encouraged Paulina for a little while, reminding her that Jesus too suffered, and knows suffering well. We explained that sometimes these bodies of ours fail, and we fix our eyes on the eternal life. For now we pray and ask to be strengthened by the Lord.

After talking with Paulina, her and her sister Beatrice sang a couple of hymns in Portuguese. I love hearing them harmonize; it is beautiful. Afterwards they explained that they were singing to bring the presence of the Lord, and also to sing in place of their mother, who cannot sing now. Then Jon and I sang “We Bow Down” in Setswana for them.

They sang a couple more songs, during which at one point their mother invited me to sit on the bed with her. How I love to be close and physically show my love, so I was overjoyed. We sat together, my hand on her leg, as she tried to sing along the words she could remember. It was one of those moments I store up in my heart.

When it was time to pray, we all prayed at the same in our own languages. It was beautiful to me, and I am sure a sweet fragrance unto the Lord. I was praying I began to say Jesus over and over. My eyes filled with tears as I remembered Emilia and our time together. It wasn’t a bad memory, just intense. I have grown to love ministry to the sick. We gave our last kisses and hugs and exited her room.

Entering the living room we saw that they had prepared lunch for us: boiled potatoes, rice, meat, and mango juice. What a blessing. The food was very good, as was the conversation. We enjoyed chatting and laughing as we tried to figure out words for certain things. Sometimes our Portuguese is still lacking in vocabulary!

After lunch I held a precious three month old chunky baby, as he slobbered all over and grabbed at my hair. We sang some more hymns in Portuguese before we left. They assured us that now we are family.