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13 January 2014

Mid-January, hot sunny skies pushing temperatures around 100 degrees alternating with days of rain to produce a humidity so thick it wears like a garment, and I don't want to be any other place!

This week will mark my first month in Mozambique.

Slowly, but surely, I am learning the languages. Portugese is the national language taught in school, but the heart language is Senna. I'm hoping to learn both, but I really want to learn Senna. There is something wonderfully special about having the ability to communicate with someone.

True communication makes a person feel loved.

While it's true that we typically think of love languages being, touch, quality time, gift giving, words of affirmation and acts of service, coming into a new culture requires one to look a little deeper. The language of loving others begins when we are willing to give something of ourselves that isn't necessarily easy to give.

It takes time and dedication to learn a new language.

I'm counting on the Lord to make good on His promise that I would have a command of the language. Even still, He didn't say I wouldn't have to put forth some effort. The best part of the process is getting to spend time with people. I'm not sure who gets more excited when I say a phrase correctly, the person teaching me, because I got it, or me, because their eyes light up with such delight!

Love in any language really does sound the same. It looks the same. It behaves the same.
Love in any language says, "You are worth my time, and my effort." 

Here, in this oral culture, where time moves slower and people love to tell stories, I'm finding a social comfort that demonstrates love the world over - Fellowship.

Tonight we were making plans for the widow distribution on Friday. The plan is for that very fellowship. Taking a time of business and choosing to make it a time of fellowship. There is work to be done. Tasks to be accomplished. But none as important as the people we have come to serve.


Caring for "the widows and orphans" is much more than handing them a bag of food or even building a new house. To care for them is to love them - the whole person. My heart leaps at the thought of creating a place of fellowship where we can spend the morning serving these precious ones. Their smiles are infectious, their touch is sincere, and I long to hear their hearts' cry.

What does one, who has matured beyond the expected age, in a land of famine, think about? What is the cry of that heart when the immediate need for daily survival has been met and they have a moment of quietness? Is it on to the next need? Or is it a moment of thankfulness and rest?

Here, in this desperate place, a song is never far from the lips and a dance not far from feeble legs - here in a land of so little, an eye twinkling with joy is easy to find. Surely, the Lord has lay before us, life and death, blessing and cursing, is it not just as easy to choose life as it is to choose death?

Those of you reading this are reading from a computer of some sort. Your belly is full or you are making plans for your next meal. If nothing on hand appeals to you, or if you just don't want to cook, you have other options. Even if you don't have what you want to eat or the option of grocery shopping right now, you don't fear hunger. You know your children won't go to bed with empty tummies. You've probably had a shower today and drank your fill of clean water. 


As you tuck your kids into their soft, warm beds tonight, on clean sheets, after a warm bath and plenty of play time, take a moment to lift up a song of thanks. Put a little dance in your step. You are blessed of the Lord and it is His pleasure to give you all the good things you have. 

Tomorrow, as you go through your day, may you take a moment to create a giggle with a friend, extend a hand to the needy, and hold on in a hug with one seeking refuge.







That one - is worth your time. 

That one - is worth your effort.

That one - understands the language of love.








 
With His Heart,
Kimberly


Love holds everything together perfectly. ~Col. 3:14