One Monday I woke up, as I always do in Mozambique, at around 5am. I slapped my face, drank my coffee and made some eggs for the many children who had stayed over the night before. I had not had much sleep as some of the kids had needed to talk and pray with us until the early hours.

We start church early and there were three services that morning, as usual. It was a
powerful time seeing a couple of thousand kids (and chickens and dogs) worshipping Jesus – or just running around. It was loud. It was holy and it was chaotic.

After those 3 services I always go out. Every Monday, it’s the same. Why?
Because I want to keep in touch with that simple goal: to LOVE those around me with the deep compassion of Christ. If I stopped understanding my neighbours, I would lose what God is asking me to remember. Every talk I gave would be hollow and empty. Every Monday, unless God whacks me on the head and tells me otherwise, I am in my village. And I take my time. People there are suffering. They need me to not be in a hurry.

This one day, I knew I had to go and visit my friend Tina. She is an old, old Momma. She makes me feel like a teenager! Our team had built her a house a long walk away on the other side of the village and I was on my way to dedicate it. After a long, tiring walk, I arrived and I am not exaggerating when I tell you how simple this little place is. It is made of bamboo and mud. But when I got there my friend burst into tears, “I never dreamed I would live in such a palace,” she cried. I stared again at her house and my eyes filled with tears. I was not looking at a palace. I was looking at a sturdy, well-built shack. But to her it was a thing of beauty, symbolising her independence and freedom. And more than that, THAT SHE WAS LOVED BY A MAN CALLED JESUS!

It matters how we look at things. It matters how grateful we are. It matters that we are full of compassion for those around us.

You can read more of Heidi and Roland’s stories in their book “Reckless Devotion.” 2014