It has been about two weeks since I settled myself down in Pemba. Two weeks of offering myself up to God for His work in this place. Two weeks of seeking His face and coming out raw from every class. Class, by the way, is like going to the Harvest Rock Conference in Pasedina. It’s crazy. We have had amazing speakers and crazy testimonies and crazy impartation.

But all I hear is “What does good news look like, Brianna? What does it look like to the little girl who has been raped over 100 times since she was four, has no parents, has lice, scabies and is malnourished? What does good news look like to the teenage boy who’s parents were murdered in front of his very eyes, has no home and was blackmailed into gang violence that he can never escape lest it cost him his life?” What does good news look like?

I come before my God every morning at 4:45am. I draw in His strength and His affection. I re-engage in His beauty and promise for my life… I pledge my allegiance once again to him and then I go out to my crowding beautiful chocolate children calling out, “Brianna Brianna! Bom Dia!” I see Antonio, Ezekiel, Imamu Alexi, Alima, Joao, Sarah, Victorino... I am loved. And yet I am hit with a rush of revelation that tells me I am helpless. I have nothing. I cannot love… apart from Him.

It’s an incredible thing to realize how helpless we actually are. One of my school mates went out on one of the village outreaches. Heidi, before hand, had just been talking about Poverty of Spirit. O, God, impart this to us! It’s an incredible concept that we just don’t understand in the West at all… To be THAT DESPERATE for Jesus? These people are. A whole Muslim village came to Jesus through the Jesus film. They are animistic Muslims who work with witchcraft and shamans to get what they need in terms of healing and favor. They only came to Jesus because they saw how He healed people in that movie. They wanted healing… they were so desperate for restoration. So they brought their deaf and blind and sick and dying to our people. The school mate of mine said that a woman brought her sick baby to him to be healed. As he put his hand on this burning baby’s back, he had the incredible realization of his helplessness. Suddenly, HE was desperate for Jesus. He cried out to Him and said, “It’s all you, God. I have nothing.” And the baby was healed on the spot. The whole village, as I said, came to Jesus and not one of them was left untouched that weekend. They were ALL HEALED!!! Hallelujah!

So far, I have seen several healings. A crippled man walked right in front of me. One woman had internal bleeding and was healed. Another woman was barren and became pregnant. I still haven’t gone on my outreach but I can only imagine how God will rock my heart.

But all of this is just a byproduct. What does good news look like? We have to show the power of God to these people because they live by the power of darkness right now. But for me, the transformation taking place in my heart is more valuable than anything.

I cry everyday, brokenhearted for the world… brokenhearted for Mozambique. What do I do with this heart, God? I am helpless. I have nothing. I cannot love… apart from you. But with You, I really can do anything!
I pray for a spirit of poverty, and a spirit of meekness. God make me humble… and yet I take that back. What a scary prayer. But that’s what it takes here. I have to be a baby here. I am realizing that I NEED the MOZAMBICANS more than they need me. Wow.

Pray for me family… I am dreaming again and am craving taking flight….  Pray that I will come home… haha