Last week (Sunday Jan 24^th, 2010) I observed 2 things that are not something one would encounter attending church in the US. Instead of meeting in the church this day we were meeting in the Mango grove where there is a stage at one end. It is used for events such as this one where we had Pastors and member’s visiting from many different churches in the province. It was estimated that we had close to 2000 people here. The great benefit to meeting in the Mango grove is the shade of the trees as opposed to being in open air under the direct sun. The initial challenge I observed is that when the sun shifted and the shade moved, groups of people would get up to move their mats or benches. That’s not so bad. The next is very comical. Once in the service and once during the meal that followed there was a crashing sound coming from a tree above me. Everybody hears and looks up. It’s mango season and if you are not alert you may just get struck by a ripe one falling from the tree. We were all able to dodge the one during the service but the one at lunch got somebody. We enjoyed the laughter of the moment and somebody got a piece of fresh fruit.

Today (Sunday Jan 31^st, 2010) we were back in our church. It is a bamboo and mud structure with a tin roof and cement floors. This day a different observation captured my heart. It has finally begun to rain here. After the first two rains that came, each in the night, yesterday around noon it began again and really has not stopped. It ranges anywhere from a light shower to a full force down pour. As church began and people gathered it was still going through these rotations. My eyes were drawn to an old man. (His age alone is a statement here in Mozambique where in 2006 the average life expectancy was 36 years) He rode up on his bicycle and parked it by the side of the church and came in with his nicest Sunday clothes, a worn suit coat, a t-shirt and a pair of pants, totally soaked. He quietly found a seat and began to worship. A little later a woman entered who I did not see arriving but she, with water dripping from her, stopped to say hello to me as she entered and made her way to find a seat. She was soaked and wore only a thread-bare t-shirt with various holes and runs, a skirt which also appeared thin with a capulana wrapped over it. I literally was in tears as I greeted her and watched her as she sat down. I found myself amazed at the lengths the people before me have gone to in order to be at church. I think in a similar downfall of rain in the US there may be people who would justify staying home, even though there most of us have all the appropriate clothing to cover with as well as a car to take us there and back.

Lord, thank you for all that you are teaching me about hunger for You that surpasses convenience.

(Yes, this is long but I am confident it will stir you in such a way that it will be worth it.)

Today I opted to stay back from the weekly shopping trip to Beira. I felt as if my day would be better spent continuing to work on the designs for the large mural we are going to do. I did not need much and figured I could walk to the local market for those things. It takes about a half an hour each way to and from Beira but the shopping expedition can turn into almost a whole day affair. It is much more laborious than in the US with the “Super-Centers” that carry everything you need in one clean, well-lit and streamlined location, but before you get the idea that I am complaining, let me tell you, I am not. I observe with continual amazement, even on this my 7^th trip here, the perseverance and hard work on display all around me just to provide and survive. The dusty roads are lined with people walking to get where they need to be, in intense sunshine and heat. There are many men on bikes loaded with their wares. Often it is the large sacks of charcoal that are about 5’ long and the width of an average person. Sometimes it is 3 and 4 crates of soda or beer in bottles they are delivering. It is totally common to see ladies with large bundles which they are carrying on their heads. It is often wood for cooking. If you stood the bundles up next to them they would probably come close to equaling their heights and can be much broader. They often have additional things in their arms and a baby strapped to them … sometimes two. The road our center is located off of is a main route between the coastal city of Beira, Mozambique and the country of Zimbabwe. Men on bicycles with wide loads and women with large bundles and babies are sharing the road with the 18 wheeler “big rig” trucks. It continually evokes prayer from me on their behalf.

Just before the others left I was told about a daughter of one of our Iris Pastors from a town/village 4 hours away who was in the hospital in Beira due to a tumor on her neck. They said that they were going back in to pray during visiting hours later this afternoon. I was eager to go and pray. When we did go I was not prepared for what I saw. This young girl named Filamina who is 9 years old had a tumor that had grown to about the size of a lemon. Its placement is right at or below her jawbone on the left side of her face. Apparently they brought her to the hospital in early November just after the initial discovery of the growth. She has been there ever since and it has continued to grow at a rapid pace. They have no answers for her father and no treatment for her. Her father is not even sure if it is cancerous or not. The tumor has shifted all of her lower teeth and essentially the bone to the middle of her mouth. This horribly disfigured little girl with just a little bit of coaxing still has a twinkle in her eyes and attempts a smile as best as she can make her mouth move, this in spite of what must be unimaginable pain. Hospital “care” is very minimal here but I really don’t feel I should take the time to elaborate on that now. Her father’s name is Pastor Psalm (great name!) and he has 5 other children and a wife who he is away from while he is staying with his daughter. We are praying for a miracle.

Can you read more?

In a bed two over from Filamina’s is a little boy who has the same condition only his is much worse. He is 6 years old and his name is Issac. I do not know if you can even imagine. Not only does he have the tumor on the lower side of his face at least twice the size of hers but he also has a tumor developing on the opposite side of his face above his eye. His face is so contorted. It brings such grief to my heart but my face has to display eyes of love and hope yet I am sure some heartbreak peeks through. We prayed for him also but while we were my heart was drawn also to his mother. Her name is Manzinha. Please try and imagine what it must be like for her to sit there day in and out and look upon her son in such a horrific condition and able to do nothing. As you imagine this – please pray out of that compassion.

When other families there with their sick children observed us praying they also wanted us to pray. Our next stop was for a little girl named Dorca who is 7 and is having stomach problems. As I laid hands on her extended belly it was “hard as a rock” from side to side and top to bottom. They did not know what it was yet.

While we prayed for Dorca a young girl who is also a patient saw us praying and went back to her room and told her mother she wanted us to pray for her also. Her mother came and asked us if we could pray for her daughter. She was 13 and has Diabetes.

In the same room with the 13 yr old (I did not get her name) were 7 other beds whose patients were all babies to young toddlers. Their parents too wanted us to pray and so we all split up. I went to a bed where a tiny … maybe 8lb. baby lay lifeless (on a full size bed). His mother and father were both there and the dad spoke English. The baby’s name Luis and he was 8 months old. He has no strength and can not nurse from his mama. In America he would be in intensive care hooked up to IV’s and all sorts of monitors. Here he was just lying there with only the piece (please forgive my drawing a blank on the proper name) where blood can be drawn from sticking out from his wrist. It is up to the parents to try and feed him formula. As I prayed I stuck my finger in his hand so he could wrap his fingers around it and occasionally he would tighten his grasp, which I cheered.

It is 1:30 am here but I had to write this. My heart just can not let go of the faces of Filishmina, Issac and little Luis. My mind cannot stop thinking about all of the children and their parents who are in that place where medical services have no more to offer and they are at the place where they must have hope beyond hope. (Romans 4:18) Although we did not see any spontaneous healings while we were there I know that my God says that His Word does not return void. (Isaiah 55:11) I also have joy in knowing that we were able to introduce some people to the hope that is the anchor for our soul (Hebrews 6:19) and for others were able to offer a refreshing reminder of that hope.

Our trip to the hospital for one father and daughter became a trip for many.

I will continue to believe for miracles. (Matthew 9:28-29)

In Your name and for your honor Lord,

Laura

Some of you may remember that I had sent in a request for prayer in early November 09 regarding a very sharp pain that I was having on the right side of my stomach/waist area that had come on pretty suddenly. It had many indications that it may have been something to do with the appendix. I knew that could be serious and it felt pretty serious but I had a peace about taking it to Jesus first. In the initial days of the pain I had already planned on attending the prayer, worship and intercession sessions with Lou Engle at GHOP. I figured that it was quite possibly the best place I could be. I got prayer from people over the next few days and the intensity left but the pain was never totally gone. Most times it was so minimal that I did not pay attention but there would be moments throughout the day when it would be a little stronger.

I had stopped asking others for prayer but I had not stopped bringing it before the Lord. I weighed if it would be foolishness to return to a 3^rd world nation without knowing what it was but really did not feel I was supposed to go have it checked out.

At one of the day sessions of the missions conference at Destiny there was a call for any with illness in their body to come forward for prayer. At the moment I was not thinking of the issue of the pain in the side because it wasn’t urgent or new and I’d just gotten kind-of used to living with it. I had been having some pain in my neck but it also was not major so I debated at first if I should go up but then I thought also about the side pain and went forward. There were different people praying for those who responded. I had my eyes closed and was focused on the Lord and a couple of people had prayed for or laid hands on me but at the end it sounded like the voice of Moses Veigh. He began to pray and he said “You are not going to have to return to the field with that”. Then he said, “God is going in right now and doing a complete overhaul inside there”. I do not remember feeling anything especially in that area but had tears at just the sweet presence of the Lord and acknowledgement from Him of my concerns of returning to Mozambique with whatever this was. Someone handed me a tissue and I opened my eyes to discover I was one of the last still standing there so I went back to my seat.

The next 2 weeks were non-stop with “to do’s” prior to leaving and I am now on my 10^th day here. I have not had even the slightest pain in that area …and really have not noticed the pain in my neck either. This is even after the 44 hours of flights and time in airports to get here.

I thank God and give testimony to His goodness and faithfulness and am thankful for all who prayed whether it be at the beginning or the end!

Laura Eubanks

As I began to write, this line from a song came to mind. The chorus says … “we are hungry, we are hungry, we are hungry for more of You, we are thirsty, for you Jesus, we are thirsty for more of You”.

I have been here in Dondo for a week now. Our children are not hungry in the natural. They are well cared for. Yet, I see that they are hungry. They are hungry to learn, they are hungry to know their purpose, hungry to dream and be who they were created to be.

I arrived at quite a unique time. There are 6 of our older boys who began attending “Young Africa” a fairly new school in the area that offers a variety of choices or tracks for learning a trade or skill. They will stay closer to the school Mon-Friday and be back here with us for the weekends. The younger boys all began today as well at a variety of local schools. Some start as early as 6am – 12 noon and then others start at 12 noon and others start at 2 pm depending on their grade levels. It was a big step for these older boys.

I talked to one in particular who acknowledged feeling a bit afraid. It was so sweet to be able to offer hope and encouragement to him as he moves into this new season.

I have had many opportunities to do art with the boys. Most have been spontaneous gatherings as I try to figure out what a formal schedule might look like. J I pull out my Portuguese learning book and have many spontaneous English lessons as well. They really want to learn and it helps me too. I am doing much better with my Portuguese. It is quite exciting!

I was able to assist with the ministry to the widows and blind on Sat. morning. Once a month we do a distribution of food. It is headed by an extremely tender-hearted man named Joaquim who of his own finances and on his own time goes out and makes repairs to the homes of the widows. To an outsider he may appear as one who needs help as he is somewhat handicapped and walks with a terrible limp … but he must not have gotten that memo. J

Last week I was able to do morning devotions with each group of boys. They are in 2 separate houses divided by older and younger. Starting this week I will be with the older boys twice and the younger ones once each week. Last week I taught from Psalm 1. It went really well.

I have been scoping out the bare walls and gates and etc for inspiration on what to paint. There is a 22 ft wide wall on the end of the Bible School that faces the church. I have decided that this is a prime place to somewhat re-create a mural I did on fabric many years ago. It has images depicting the Garden of Eden, mountains with Noah’s Ark perched atop, a huge rainbow, an equally large dove, a river of life, and fields of flowers full of children each tending to the field in various ways (the harvest). Jesus is there too … holding children of course! The death of Jesus is represented by the three crosses on a cloud in the sky. His resurrection is represented by a butterfly and the children in the far right have the tongues of fire over their heads to represent the baptism of the Holy Spirit. It will be a big project but I am very excited. I already have some of the children who I think will be able to assist me.

I will also be painting the name “Center of Love” on the gate into the base and there are other smaller projects as well. I want the boys to assist me so they can gain experience and confidence in this type of work. Locally it is common to see hand painted signs and murals on the sides of buildings, stores and etc.

There are also those who are truly hungry in the natural. Yesterday I had two brothers ask me if they could live here. They have a mother so they really are not eligible but I do not know why they asked but they were very serious and solemn and stayed with me learning English until it was dark. It is one of the difficult parts of being in this country that I love. Sometimes it breaks your heart.

I just had my housing “upgraded” today and I found this on the refrigerator.

“When I stand before God at the end of my life I would hope that I would have not a single bit of talent left and could say, I used everything you gave me”

-Erma Bombeck

That statement resonates with me. Pour me out Lord. Let me use everything you gave me.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

I fully appreciate your prayers and if you desire to assist financially in supporting me and the “Labor of Love” God has called me to you can donate either through Iris Ministries or directly through my PayPal on my website at

http://www.laborofloveforthenations.com/donate.html

Thanks again and God bless you,

Laura