Monday, May 7, 2007

Above the waving grass, great billowing clouds give way to sunset’s colors, and it’s easy to forget for a moment that we’re in Africa. This is Big Sky Country, and there are many reasons to feel that we’ve stepped into Laura Ingalls Wilder’s world. The prairies (or savannahs) are covered with grass tall enough to get lost in, interspersed with six-foot high stands of yellow-orange Shasta daisy-type flowers.

We are guests of the Peter and Debbie Wilcox family, Australian missionaries living outside of Lichinga in northern Mozambique. We share their cement home. There is no electricity, no refrigeration, no running water. We take “cup showers” with heated water (the weather is cooler here), the toilet is flushed only when really necessary by pouring in a bucket of water. Food is cooked over a gas stove-top or outside over a charcoal fire, dishes are washed in a tub. Mozambican guards double as yard- and household-help, keeping water buckets full drawn by a rope from the well. We can wash our clothes in the cement laundry tub outside, or hire local women to do it for 30 meticais ($1.10 US).

The Wilcox family includes 20-year old twin daughters Annelisa and Antoinette, full partners with their parents in devoting their lives to the people of Mozambique; Elias (11), Miriam (8), Mikaila (6), and Karmelie (3). Also considered family are Violet, a Malawian woman who serves as the Wilcox’s noon cook, her two daughters ages 15 and 21, and five grandchildren ranging in age from 6 to 13, children of her deceased daughters. A renovated out-building serves as their living quarters.

What can you eat when there’s no oven, no refrigeration, lots of mouths and not much money? Actually, one can live quite nicely, and possibly be healthier than at home! Breakfast is always porridge—coarsely-ground white cornmeal. Lunch, the main meal of the day, consists of rice or nshima (fine white cornmeal cooked into a thick mush) topped with a sauce made of chard or cassava leaves and other vegetables, ground peanuts, or pinto beans. The evening meal varies, from boiled sweet potatoes or pumpkin, roasted peanuts, green salad or banana to the occasional fried egg with bread.

Life is simple here, not in terms of labor but regarding modern conveniences. There is a small windmill topping the house which powers a laptop and battery chargers. The Wilcoxes also own a cell phone, and a 1969 LandRover that tops out at 60 km/hour (35 mph) and hauls 8-10 passengers. Life is simple. If you want to talk “primitive”, then you must ride with Peter to a nearby village of people from the Yao tribe.

Take a twenty-minute drive across the rolling hills, turn left at a nondescript corner in the middle of the prairie and you will reach Chinaliwila. Here are dirt roads, 75-100 nicely-built mud homes with heavy thatch roofs—no tin roofs for miles. I can’t imagine when the last time a car other than the LandRover entered here. Peter has been coming by invitation of the chief of the village, to talk about Jesus. Today he has asked Dan to accompany him. After chairs have been brought for the visitors, there is a lot of curious pointing and speculating about Dan’s backpack and what it may hold (even Peter, who speaks fluent Portuguese, needs an interpreter here). When finally a Bible is pulled out, all is hushed as the women and children look with wonder at the beautiful book with markings in it. Pointing to the words, Dan reads a passage from Isaiah. Even though the language is strange, they are spellbound. To think that those black scratchings could communicate! (We’ve been told that the literacy rate is less than 30%). Through an interpreter, Dan teaches from Romans 5: “But God demonstrated his love for us in this--while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”

The Yao people have historically been antagonistic to the gospel and to any intrusion by other tribes or cultures. They are known as the tribe that raided other neighboring tribes, stole their people and sold them to the Arabs for the slave market. Because of this they are feared and hated. God is opening a door here that may have never been opened before – an invitation by a Yao chief to teach the gospel of Jesus Christ. The people are leery, but the chief and his grandsons are eager. In fact, the grandson who is next in line to be chief has confessed Christ and is coming to the compound here to be taught the Word and learn English, though he has not yet submitted to baptism (the line of no return for these people). The old chief and his wife (he only has one! very unusual for a chief) were here in the compound today. When I introduced Liana and Dawna as my daughters, his wrinkly face lit up in a buck-teeth smile, and he invited us all to come and visit him in his home next week – that should be interesting.

The Wilcoxes have a litany of God-stories, miracles and blessings they have experienced in their two years here. In a world where witchcraft and curses are as common as football games and traffic jams are to us, they are dedicated to bringing freedom, truth and light in the darkness. Construction is underway on a family-style orphanage for 18 girls and a house for their family. Other buildings will follow in time. As visitors, we’ve helped with cement-block construction work, school and Bible teaching, and using the treadle sewing machine to hem fabric into bedsheets.

Annelisa and Antoinette are rare young women, beautiful in features and spirit. They are one in heart and mind, having felt a call to African orphans at the age of six, and they work as a unit. Rolland and Heidi Baker, founders of Iris Ministries, asked these 20-year olds to establish a base at Lichinga. They’ve thrown themselves into the task with single-minded focus. Currently the twins teach school in English to 11 children. They are creative and loving instructors. In spite of limited resources, their students are receiving a quality education. They also handle the ministry’s finances and help with hospitality.

Darkness comes early here on the windswept grasslands. After our evening meal seated on benches around the rough-hewn kitchen table, we carry candles to the bedrooms and children are settled for the night. I step outside for a moment, and I’m sure I’ve never seen stars in a sky like this. There is no trace of martyrdom or complaining in this family—instead, there is joy and a sense of privilege in serving the One they love. From the soft glow in the window comes ethereal music—evening worship has begun. It’s not a formal service, and doesn’t happen every night. This is not religious obligation but soul-refreshment, lovers delighting in the other’s presence. A beautiful wood-burned plaque on the front door proclaims from Hebrews, “There remains therefore a rest for the people of God.” I go inside to join the others in worship. Here is simplicity, here is beauty, here is rest in loving Jesus. –Regina and Dan