'God, I don't know what to do, but I look to you'...

It was Halloween night, so we had a worship event in the pavilion. Praying over Jackson, We Will Go and for each other. Little did I know that this worship night would be something that built me up for this upcoming season.

In the middle of worship, Amy read out 2 chronicles 20. It was a timely word. When all these things are standing against you, you can’t help by cry out, ‘God, I don’t know what to do, but I look to you’. You come to Him in worship. He then comes in and fights this battle for you. You don’t have to lift a finger.

There was lots against me going to Mozambique, yet, His will was done.

I was in Mozambique again. It was slightly surreal, like my life there was a dream. Yet it was so comfortable, as if I never left. A home away from home. I wasted no time, and went straight to the baby house. I pulled my baby boys in tight and cried, as they embraced me, as if they remembered me. The Tias danced and celebrated until I told them I was only there for a short time. That took them a while to be ok with that.

Once I went through my orientation at the visitor’s center, which was a weird reality in itself. I went to the toddler house and hugged the necks of the boys and girls, who were still in nappies when I left. I got to tell stories of each one, reminding them of when they did things like, place beads up their noses, or when none of the kids could say their name properly, so they got a fun nickname.

I hugged Calisto, who a week before was facing death in hospital. This week though, he was running around like nothing had happened. It reminded me of the amount of times I had seen these babies looking deathly ill. As I held them in my arms, I had no idea what to do, but pray and worship over them. I would see God bring them back to life quickly, to the point where they were under my feet, shouting my name and refusing to sleep. They became typical little people.

I truly saw God come and fight for each one of these children. Each one is a miracle and they have amazing testimonies, already at such young ages.

When I was in Pemba, I also headed up a ministry call ‘Rahab’. I ministered to ladies who were selling themselves on the street. The first morning I was there I went down to the sewing school, that they are running on the Iris base. They were about to have worship with the ladies from the Iris sewing school. As I walked into the door, two of these ladies saw me, jumped up, hugged my neck and cried. As we all embraced each other, it was like the time we weren’t with each other didn’t count. Yet, God had done so much with each of us through these last three years.

Each week, when it came to anything to do with Rahab, I felt a dreading feeling in my stomach. I didn’t want to do it. It was hard. I didn’t know what I was doing, there was so much warfare and I hated what I saw. Yet, I would get up, pray A LOT, and give God my yes over again. My yes to God, once again was. ‘God, I don’t know what to do, yet I look to you’.

God is so kind to show me the fruit of that weak ‘yes’ that I gave him. He is kind to show me how much He has done.

I would cry each day that I was with these ladies. As I came face to face with the beauty of God’s goodness.

These ladies who used to sell people, and give themselves away for a cheap price. These ladies who would drink way too much and not know their worth at all, are now ministering to those who are in that place. These ladies walk with their head held high, as they know who they are. They make beautiful items that are amazing quality, and they do it with joy.

They haven’t given up on the God who saved them. Yet, they have gone deeper and worship Him daily with all their heart.

I remember one bible study, I was talking about how the joy of the Lord is our strength. One of the girls, who was 16 at the time, asked a question at the end. She has been listening, and really took in everything that was said. She however, had a very sincere question. ‘Last night, my mum came home drunk again and kicked me out, throwing all my clothes out the door and locking it so I couldn’t get back in. How do I find joy through this situation?’

She had me. I had no idea.

I wanted to get angry and rise-up in this unjust behavior towards this vulnerable young girl. Towards my friend.

Her mum as an abusive drunk, and this, I later found out was a regular event in this young girl’s life.

When she asked this question, she wasn’t being rude or wanting to argue. She really wanted to learn about how to have joy.

This is something we went through together. I also had no idea about how to lean on his joy and stay there through all the craziness that happened while I was in Pemba. But, as I went deeper with God, I saw how this joy was a supernatural joy, that you get when you enter that place with God. I learnt the simplicity of staying joyful even when it hurt.

This same young girl now has a house of her own, which is a huge thing in Mozambique. Women owning land used to not be possible. She goes to school every night, after she has been at the sewing school during the day. The best part however, is that she is so full of joy! She is so full of Jesus.

This young girl has been through so much, and has chosen God in it all.

My whole time living in Pemba, I really was screaming, ‘God, I don’t know what to do, but I look to you.’ This trip, God showed me what He did in that prayer.

It was a gift.

As I write this I am crying, while on a train to see my sister in Nottingham. It was so kind of God so show me a glimpse of just some of the miracles that He did while I was in Pemba. Plus, the continuation of this, over these past three years.

Right now, I am waiting in England for another miracle. I am waiting for some added parts to the documents needed for America. Once again, I cry out to God, ‘God, I don’t know what to do, but I look to you’.

Thank you to all of you who were praying for me as I went to Mozambique. It was truly a beautiful time and you were all part of the miracle of getting me there!