Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Street Kids Rock My Face Off!


You guys remember me writing about Joe?   In the street kid sub-society he is the big bwana...the boss.  Yesterday he prayed and asked Jesus into his heart!  WOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOO




We have felt the best approach in sharing the gospel with these guys is to give them the information, then let them tell us when they are ready.  It would be a simple thing for us to push them to pray a few prayers with us, but it wouldn’t be genuine.  
Luis has been spending loads of one on one time with Joe.  They meet for a coffee, and Luis shares his life with him.  I have watched a really cool bond being formed between those two over the past six months.  He has also asked to come to church with us, and loves it!  So, yesterday, he was ready!  Afterwards, Luis brought him home to tell me the great news!  I was thrilled beyond words.
Pray for Joe!  I was a bit nervous at first that we are leaving for vacation in the States so soon after, but God knows exactly what he needs!  Pray for Joe! 
Pray that he develops a hunger for the word that is insatiable! 
Pray that he grows sure and steady. 



Also, would you pray for us to continue in our work with these kids?  This has re-invigorated us in our desire to see God’s word being planted in the lives of the street kids.  
I see an army of kids renewed by the power of God’s love changing Zambia!  I see hearts being cleansed and washed by the blood of Jesus.  
We need a place to meet with them.  The Soweto Street Church now needs a home.  We need a place where we can control the environment (no drugs and booze).  We need a place where we can clothe and feed them.  It would also serve as a job training sight.  Luis wants to have a wood working shop to train kids how to make furniture.  A cafe would be super cool as well.  

It is all so exciting!!!  How does God want you to be involved??





ps.  If you are interested in donating you can go to tscnyc.org...go to the drop down menu under GIVE.  Follow the menu to MAKE A ONE TIME GIFT.  There is a drop down menu DONATE TO...you can find our names listed under MISSIONARY SUPPORT.  Or you can mail a check to   TIMES SQUARE CHURCH
                                                                         1657 Broadway 
                                                                         NYC, NY 10019  
                                                                         DONATION MORALES FAMILY 

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Hast Thou No Scar?


A dear friend of mine has been in Zambia for 8 months attempting to adopt 2 precious little girls.  Her husband has had to be in the states for the time because of work and she has kept their biological daughter in here in Zambia.  I can’t begin to tell you all she has gone through as a result and last night was told it won’t be possible to adopt the girls.  Our hearts are broken for this precious family!  GOD WHY!?  My precious friend is now faced with the awful task of having to take the kids back to the orphanage where she found them.  Would you please pray for a miracle on their behalf!?  God is able! 

Keira sitting with Luis
( I don't have a good picture of Evolet)
Josie
Then I woke up this morning and read on facebook that a friends son-in-law died suddenly of a brain aneurysm.  He was 38 years old!  He leaves behind a wife and three young kids.  JESUS IN HEAVEN HELP! 
I don’t doubt God’s sovereignty or that he has a plan.  I don’t doubt that the Bible is complete truth and we can rely on its answers and its comfort.  I don’t doubt...
BUT COME ON......these are some pretty tough situations!  When faced with sudden and disatrous events the heart wants to shut down.  It makes my feet feel like stone and my heart swell with pain to the point of bursting.  Do you know the feeling?
How do you put one foot in front of the other when you obey God and it falls apart?  How do you even contemplate getting out of bed in the morning when your husband is suddenly taken from you?  
In moments of great and unthinkable pain I take such comfort in Jesus!  The pain and agony that he suffered, simply knowing that he understands that kind of struggle...the King of Heaven and Earth.....fully God and fully man......understand exactly how it feels to know heartache and loss.  
Hast thou no scar?
No hidden scar on foot, or side, or hand?
I hear thee sung as mighty in the land;
I hear them hail thy bright, ascendant star.
Hast thou no scar?

Hast thou no wound?
Yet I was wounded by the archers; spent,
Leaned Me against a tree to die; and rent
By ravening beasts that compassed Me, I swooned.
Hast thou no wound?

No wound? No scar?
Yet, as the Master shall the servant be,
And pierc├Ęd are the feet that follow Me.
But thine are whole; can he have followed far
Who hast no wound or scar?
Amy Carmichael wrote this while bedridden in India. I love this poem because it reminds me that if we are walking with Jesus we won't escape life with out a scar or two.  


Please pray for the women I have mentioned!!!  It is going to take some time before their wounds turn to scars.  

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Social Justice, or what ever you wanna call it


Why are we missionaries?  Or I have heard the new term is “Social Justice Coordinators”  What ever...we love Jesus and obey him....
God has called us to Zambia to work with the street children, of that we have no doubt.  
Our goal in working with the kids is to see their lives transformed by the power of the gospel.  God has put the desire in our hearts to minister to the needs of their souls.  To have a church for them.  


In April of last year God gave me a dream about a store front ministry to street kids.  He showed me what it would look like and what we would be doing there.  It will be a place where a kid can walk in the door and relax for a bit, get nourished...body, mind and soul....and be spoken to about God’s great love for them.  We want to call is SOWETO STREET CHURCH.  We need you to help us!  
We firmly do believe that a missionary is only as effective as those who are willing to walk next to them and help shoulder the burden.  In order to walk in the mandate God has given us we need those of you who are willing to support us both financially and prayerfully.  
What are we specifically trusting God for right now?
A store front to do street ministry out of
The funds to do the work and to live in Zambia 

How can you pray for us as a family? 
Pray for the finances to do the work God has called us to do. 
Pray for the wisdom to handle the things God has put on our plates
Pray for the unity and safety of our family
We are really looking forward to see many of you this summer!!!!!!!  If you are interested in learning more about what we are doing here please contact me and we will be happy to answer all your questions. 

BLESSINGS!!!!!  Myranda, Luis, Amira, Hannah and Brooklyn Rose 
ps.  If you are interested in donating you can go to tscnyc.org...go to the drop down menu under GIVE.  Follow the menu to MAKE A ONE TIME GIFT.  There is a drop down menu DONATE TO...you can find our names listed under MISSIONARY SUPPORT.  Or you can mail a check to   TIMES SQUARE CHURCH
                                                                         1657 Broadway 
                                                                         NYC, NY 10019  
                                                                         DONATION MORALES FAMILY 

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Red Shoes for Mutale Part 2


Here is the second portion of RED SHOES FOR MUTALE.  I hope you enjoy it and it speaks to your heart about the life of the street kids.  



Somewhere in the afternoon, during the siesta, I had a dream. Mutale was walking on a paved sidewalk, a place that had no mud puddles, no broken down pick-ups, no corrupt police. She was wearing high, bright red shoes. Or were they high heels. I can’t remember. It must have been Joburg. She was so pristine, in a white sundress, her hair braided in typical village fashion. She held out her hand to me, and it was full of blood. Her smile turned to a frown. She said, over and over again, in the sweetest, most tortured voice I ever heard, “Why didn’t you help me last night? Why?” I stood staring, wearing nothing but my undershorts, but no one noticed us. In the distance, a white man was watching us. He was saying something to us, but he was too far for us to hear what he was saying. He kept getting closer and closer, and when I looked to see Mutale, she was gone. I screamed. 
As I drifted back to consciousness, the white man, the mzungu, was getting closer. Finally he was squatting down in front of me, and I realized i was back in Soweto. My stomach felt like lead, like it was going to drop out of my body, and that headache was back. he held out his hand, and spoke something like English. “Mainemiz jaisunsmif enayewerkfor Every Childs Home.” He was with a translator, and the guy interpreted into Nyanja what was just said. I knew he said something about the Home, because all the kids on the street knew of it. Some of us had even been there, and stolen from there, and ran away from there. Street mode kicks in and I wonder two things, Will he give me money or food today, and does he carry one of those expensive phones that all mzungus carry, the one with the camera. I look at him and can see his face on an American dollar. Most of them come dressed in their oversized t-shirts and pants with pockets all over them, some wear sandals, some wear hiking boots. they seem like they are part of some militant army, an army that smiles and hands out money instead of weapons and pain. 
This guy is new, so I can give him a real good story. These mzungu missionaries don’t like to hear that some of us actually have families. They don’t understand. They don’t realize. Mzungus have lots of money in America, and they drive really big expensive cars. I heard they also have their own rooms to sleep in at night, that children don’t have to share beds, or sleep on reedmats on the floor next to their parents bed. That would have been nice for us. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to run away from home. Maybe my uncle wouldn’t have been able to get into my room. 
The translator talks a lot abut God’s plan for my life, whatever that is. I know about Jesus, but I also know about Uncle Mwenda’s jujus, the ones he uses for kids who don’t listen to their parents, for kids who run away from home. I guess this is where I belong, what I deserve. i’m in and out of the conversation, because I need my fix of liquid glue, but every once in a while, a Zambian, one of my own people, stops by to say something angrily about this white man. It’s in englsih, but I know it’s bad. Than he turns to me and says something along the lines of “you deserve this. God has nothing for you anymore. Leave these good white people alone!” Typical street show here, righteous versus unrighteous, white versus black, good versus evil. I’m too tired to care. I’m just waiting for this guy to tell me that GOd loves me so much he wants me to have a Land Rover, and a big house, and you know what, why don’t we get something to eat in the most expensive restaurant I can afford. Before i know it he has his hands on me, eyes closed, and praying something rapidly, with tears flowing down his eyes. I know he is not a bad person, but I also know that he won’t last here, no one ever does. 

If you are interested in giving to the work we are doing here and contributing to our living expenses so that we can keep working with these precious children you can go to tscnyc.org ---donate---make a one time donation----missions----Luis and Myranda Morales/zambia