We had a wonderful church service in August, but then had to wait until the middle of September to continue to minister, as the rains made the road nearly impassable. This semester, Grandma Isabel is continuing her Tuesday afternoon prayer meetings.
Caid, Rachel, and Ana Sofia are joining them for the prayer meeting, and also offering an English class for the kids who didn't get to be a part of the program last semester.
(A small ramble from Rachel)
Every time I go to Mussurepe I am reminded that more is not always better: more stuff, more technology, more information. It is so simple, so peaceful here at the farm down the dirt road. No internet, computers--no running water most of the time.
Fruit trees, drinking fresh coconut water, singing old hymns translated into a new language but still with the same slow sway. Sharing a hymn book with the woman next to me and then realizing she isn't looking at it because she does not know how to read. But I keep it there just the same because I don't know how to deal with that. I don't understand a life without reading, without so much of what is my life today.
The women who come and pray and have Vovo Bel write their name down in her book and wait for her to ask each one "How are you?" I feel the anticipation rising as she gets closer to me. I know I want my name written in her book, I know I want her to ask me how I am, because I know she cares and she will pray for me. I know these women care. As they wash their laundry by hand and sweep their dirt floor, as I type on my computer and Skype with friends: we think about each other and how we will see each other again next Tuesday .
