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Showing posts from October, 2015

Sewing Machines & Hope

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Imagine, for a moment, that you're a Mozambican woman. You've worked hard all your life to provide for your family. Life's never been easy, and now that you're getting old, the years of work are beginning to tell on you. Your hands are gnarled and calloused from years of scrubbing laundry and working in your garden. Your back is bent and twisted from carrying heavy loads and arthritis is slowing you down. You and your daughter live together in a little, one-room shack. Her income keeps food on the table, while you look after the house and take care of your grandchild. But one day, your daughter doesn't make it home from work... In the weeks following the funeral, you search for some kind of job. No-one wants to hire a woman your age. Your relatives are either unwilling or unable to take you in. So you turn to your local church for help. They do their best to help you keep food on the table, clothes on your back and provide an education for your grandchild. But

Recipe: Pumpkin-Chicken Pasta

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I made this for supper tonight. It started out as an idea from AllRecipes.com, but I made enough changes that it probably counts as a different recipe now. The pumpkin is different, mellow, and we all agreed that it was pretty tasty. All of you Northern Hemisphere folks who are currently experiencing autumn might appreciate this dish as change-up from all of the usual pumpkin-based fare that's popular right now. A somewhat-lousy shot. My photography suffers when I'm trying to convince the kids not to fight over the penguin fork. Pumpkin-Chicken Pasta  Cut one large pumpkin in half. Remove seeds from one half and place it in a 350-400 degree oven to cook. Dice 4 tomatoes 2 onions 5-6 cloves garlic And put in a medium-sized saucepan with dashes of Salt Black pepper Cinnamon Sage Oregano Thyme Basil Ginger 1 - 2 T oil Let it cook, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes have cooked down to a sauce, then add 1 C chicken broth. Turn it down to a simm

The Foreigner Within Your Gates

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I think that I am beginning to understand the full weight of Jesus' words in Matthew 25: 'Come, you who are blessed of my Father...for I was a stranger, and you took Me in', because now I know what it's like to be, inescapably, an outsider. My 'stranger' status is written in the color of my skin, the way I talk, and the clothes I wear.  source I stick out like the proverbial sore thumb, as I knew that I would when I made the choice to come here. It was an inconvenience I was willing to endure. I listened to the stories of other missionaries, recounted a few experiences of my own, and resigned myself to the fact that I was about to become a target for exploitation and unguarded commentary. I was braced for the shouts of  ' mazungu ' and ' branca '. I prepared myself to be viewed, not as an individual, but through the stereotype of a rich, white girl. I sighed over the knowledge that almost every shopping foray was going to involve multi