The Chronicles of Janie

I have gotten spoiled. I hate to admit this, but it's true. When I visited Mozambique three years ago, I had many of the misconceptions that other Americans have about Africa. I expected everything to be really hard and fairly terrible. I steeled myself to overcome the untold horrors that life here would undoubtedly bring. Then, of course, I got here and found out that a lot of things were much better than I'd expected. There were actually electricity and running water in quite a few places, and I stayed here for two months without contracting some incurable disease. I came home and began informing everyone that Mozambique isn't actually that bad. I find now that I was my own best convert, and that I've returned to Mozambique with certain expectations. And this is a place where nearly anything can (and does) happen, and expectation is not always my friend. So I'm spoiled, and there are certain expectations that I need to overcome. Like getting a...

At the age of fifteen, I went through a rather arduous process wherein God taught me how to listen to Him. From that time on, I have seldom struggled to hear from God. I take time to listen, and He talks.  Source unknown Of course, He doesn't always talk to me about the things I want to hear. Frequently, He answers my questions by bringing up things that seem completely unrelated to the matter at hand. But, nevertheless, I do hear from Him. And this makes me a bit of an anomaly in many Christian circles. Quite a few people have expressed their feelings - ranging from amazement to envy - at the fact that God actually talks to me, and have asked variants of the same question; 'why can't I hear from Him?' Not being God, I frequently don't know the reason why. Do they spend (as I did) too little time listening for Him? Has unrepented sin and disobedience deafened their spiritual ears (as happens, too often, to mine)? Could it be that they actually are hea...

I could write about my last month in Gozo. And sailing to Sicily. And finally getting visas for Mozambique. And airports (so many airports) And luggage (and luggage and more luggage). And how much I love our new church. But honestly, if I tried to write all of that, the sheer quantity would scare me to death and I would continue to procrastinate. I'll probably throw some pictures and commentary of those topics up here at some point, for the benefit of any who might have just given vent to a massive sigh of disappointment. In the meantime, allow me to hurl you into the hot, snail-paced whirlwind of my daily life. I am trying to learn Portuguese. I didn't really try last time I was here, but since I'm looking at being here long-term this time around, I decided that I should make an effort. Accordingly, I have become a hoarder of miscellaneous vocabulary and bits of grammar, faithfully jotted down in my black notebook. I am lazy, and I have always d...