The Chronicles of Janie

A gusty wind fluttered the cloak of the lone figure standing at the crossroads. It toyed with the loose strands of hair around her face, and brought her the scents of rain and grass. The lonesome music of the wind-swept pines whispered all around her as she looked out over the twinkling lights of a small town. She watched as, one by one, the lights blinked out. Quiet, innocent people were going to their beds down there, but sleep was not for her. She knew that she had become a legend to the people of the scattered towns. She was the guardian, the night-walker, the one who stood between them and some overshadowing dread they dared not name. Now she stood, silent and alone in a rapidly darkening world, with the crossing of four roads beneath her feet. North, South, East, and West...the possibilities were endless. She knew that adventures and danger lay along each gloomy path, but as she felt the steady strength rising up from her booted feet, she knew that she was ready to go wherever...

I have a lot of stories - humorous, thought-provoking, scary, nasty - from my trip to Mozambique. The vast majority of them have gone untold, or only roughly recorded in a hastily-typed email. So, I have decided to write down some of my favorites and share them on here in the hopes that someone will enjoy reading them. My spirits were at a low ebb. The first excitement of living in a foreign country was beginning to wear off, leaving me a little bit homesick. I wondered why I was even here. How was I supposed to minister to people when I didn't speak their language or know their culture? I was also in poor shape physically. I hadn't been sleeping well at night. Darkness seemed to bring a heavy sense of doom and fear that pressed down on me and made me restless and uneasy. I knew that Satan was attacking me, but I wasn't exactly sure what to do about it. On top of that, it had been raining almost non-stop for several days, so none of the clothes I'd washed and hun...