Just another dusty sunset in Nampula.
Goodnight all.

Dad, what does the devil sound like?

We had read our books, talked through the day and he wanted to know the answer. Ok, 'bible-teacher-man'...'joe-missionary'........DAD.....Ugh.

My first thought was he/it is the sweetest sound you have ever heard. But at other times it is a murmur drowning out everything. Or is it the whisper of self-righteousness or possibly it is the sound of a far fetched idea which will no doubt lead you away from a truer path. Or it is the ever-so-near sound of fear of things that are unknown--but possible....although far-fetched. Or it is an remembrance of something you have forgiven someone...the seed of bitterness creeping in? Or disappointment that things didn't go exactly how we wished/prayed or asked? Or possibly, just possibly does it sound like us talking to ourselves? alone in the dark feeling...sorry for ourselves?

You see i've been studying Ephesians as of late and come to the conclusion that this Satan/Devil/fallen-angel...is real, is crafty and very busy. The Bible uses words like 'cunning' and 'deceitful' and 'prowls around seeking whom he may devour'. Sounds rather sneaky and, well down right scary. I believe somehow he speaks to us, all of us and by any means necessary draws us away from God who loves us and wants to know us. But I think he does get tired--if he is a created being (fallen angel and all) and yet he is smart enough to know his demise is coming. He isn't a god or even close to the enormity of our creator...in fact he isn't too much different than us. Funny thought though, he was created to worship but choose not to. It appears to me that angels and man have a choice to worship and know this God the creator or...NOT. I think about this with my Toby and pray he chooses to know God. That he doesn't listen to the lies and the ideas that will lead him away form trusting and knowing this God. That he willn't rather be on his own seeking his own betterment and glory. Because that is not what he was created for, but that is another subject altogether.

So whatever it is that draws you further form the truth, whatever tempts you to not trust, whatever makes you think you are alone, worthless, not-quite-good-enough, or all powerful, really swell and in control......guess who's talkn'.

So, Toby, he sounds different to different folks but he always leads you astray either with the truth or a lie....but usually a lie...he isn't your friend and doesn't care about you at all, he is in it for himself. Don't be fooled my boy, there is only One who really loves you well and sorry to say although i try, it ain't me.

HELP needed: Cell phone advice

Ok, nothing terribly serious but i am a tad lost in this matter.

I need to buy a cell phone. Yup, technology. Funny one would think in this the 'less developed' part of the world (Mozambique) one wouldn't need one. BUT, here is the thing, we don't even have a land line. Our internet is via antenna on the roof and all our other communication is via SMS and cell calls. This is true in most of southern Africa because one can choose how much one wants to talk and know in advance what is is going to cost. Even out in the bush cell phones usually get reception and can be a lifesaver.

So, I have been looking for a qwerty, GSM, unlocked, quad-band, touch screen, camera phone.

Oh, i don't have the $500 to buy a new one so wil most likely be at the whim of ebay....and although they all look very slick and helpful but which one is better than the than the other? If you ave any experience or info please comment below!

I appreciate the advice.

Lifer

I have been a prisoner here for a long time, so long in fact all the walls have fallen down and i no longer know where my oppressors are or can even find a sign of a guard or warden. But fortunately i no longer need one. I have become so accustomed to this prison that i cannot leave. I think i like the solitude and isolation. I haven't spoken to anyone about my crime for a long time and have almost forgotten what it is. The fact is, i am comfortable here in my private little hell. Is that language to strong for you, so sorry. But, this is hell, i am isolated from those who love me. My heart is cold, beyond hurting. My tears have all been cried in a thousand attempts of rationalization, explanation and finally penance. Strangely though, i could never quite let go of the feeling of guilt. It is like i want to let go and get out of here but can't. I guess i have convinced myself i can't get out.

So here i sit. In a jail, staring at a wall with only a barred window. Funny, i heard i was actually set free long ago but couldn't believe it, so i stayed. In fact, part of me likes being guilty because then i am in control. Kind of messed up huh? I know. But if i accept this pardon, if i become free, then i am duty bound to be thankful to my liberator. So i would rather struggle through this crape by myself, remaining alone. Some would call my process 'self righteousness'. I don't know what this means, but i have a feeling it doesn't work. I do think it is easier to live here in this prison, forgetting about what i have done and just live this dismal life, than come to terms with a liberator.

But i am intrigued. This liberator. Who is this? What is in it for him? Nothing but knowing me? Strange dude. And he has the authority and power to free me...hmm. Wow, he must have some kind of connections. What, you say he didn't use them. He WHAT? You're shitn' me. He wants to take my place and set me free? This guy is crazy. What, his dad is the guy in charge, the guy who set the rules. And it is his DAD who wants to know me? Weird. But there must be another way he could have pulled this off. Wow. I am mystified. Not sure i can trust a self-sacrificing powerful individual, than again i certainly don't trust myself anymore either!

But, back to me. So, i have sat here in my filth for a long time. I know i can't get up and move on my own at this point. It is going to take a lot more than i have to offer. Like i said, i tried this self-righteous thing and it didn't work. I used to look around and see others here and think i wasn't so bad, but recently i can't find anyone...then i tried to earn my way out of here but couldn't shake the guilt thing. No matter what i did i just couldn't get rid of it. In the end i just felt more defeated and weaker than when i started. So, i sit.

Good. What do mean good!? You're saying my weakness is my hero's greatest strength and in fact his key to setting me free? So, if i don't get to the place where i know i can't escape, if i don't admit i am never going to be able to get myself free, i never will be? Geesh. Sounds confusing.

In a nutshell, the big cheese, head honcho, sends his kid in my place but it will only work if i admit i need him. Unbelievable. Strange to think all this time i have been thinking i would someday do it on my own. I thought it was the only way out. But you're telling me the very weakness i am afraid to admit, the very fear and inadequacy i hate to admit is my ticket to freedom. And this freedom isn't just a ticket out of this stinkhole but actually a invitation to know the boss. I can actually know the guy in charge? He wants to know me...that much. I better sit down and think about it for awhile.

Maybe i can accept being saved,

then again,

maybe i can't.

Well with great sadness my parents have gone home. Yes, after being in our house for six weeks we were still sad they left. Their time here confirmed that i am blessed and we are loved. There were no movie scenes of splendor or gut wrenching moments. We simply had a really good time and enjoyed each others presence....which brings us to the fact that they are now gone for at least another year and unless tragedy (or windfall!) brings us to the states we have no way to see them. So, it is with great sadness i report we had a really great time.

Between trips to the beach in Nacala, Toby's Masai birthday party (including blood-like milk and spear-throwing contests), picnics in the bush, eating out, wonderful trips to Chocas de Mar where we stayed literally 30 feet from the beach as well as a interesting and educational visit to Ilha de Mocambique (oldest western structure still standing in southern Africa outside the 500 year old Portuguese fort) we managed to spend lots of time resting and relaxing, playing with the boys.

For our last 'cultural event' we took them to was a church service in which they were presented gifts. It was wonderful to see the church we honor them. Some in the church are close friends of mine and although it was a short service (2.5 hours) they were glad to have been there and enjoy worship in a different language and culture.

Funny, i remember something like them saying the house is quiet without the kids around (me and my brother) and we kind of feel the same. It is strange not to have them here with us. So.

Farewell Mom and Dad. Thank you for all you brought, gifts, physical help, fixing stuff...but mostly thanks for bringing yourselves.

We love you.