Sons of God's Generals: Unlocking the Power of Godly Inheritance Read Online Free PDF

witnessed to his stepson, he vowed to join them in Africa and serve their vision. He was an ex-military man who scared away some thieves that visited him in the night at our center, first by acting insane and running around the room flailing his limbs, and later by decorating a coconut with a face and stabbing it with a knife. My parents had to ask that he refrain from going on land mine searches in our trucks filled with kids along for the ride. He built himself a cage around his bed to ward off the bats and got his nickname from being frequently sighted in a field during the day sharpening his machete.
    I learned cross-cultural communication from a lot of people, but perhaps best from my Brazilian friend Sarah Braga. Brazilian missionary families absolutely played a huge role in my upbringing. If it takes a village to raise a child, then they were my village and I am ever thankful for them. I began staying with Sarah when my parents traveled, so we tried to come up with things to do while stumbling through learning each other’s language, things that included creating obstacle courses or finding frogs. She felt like my partner in everything growing up, and when my parents began traveling more, her family absolutely became my second family. I was constantly immersed in Brazilian culture, almost as much as Mozambican culture, because they all tend to congregate together. They do community really well, perhaps more so than any other culture I know, and Brazil sends out missionaries to every Portuguese-speaking country in the world. Sarah and my other Brazilian friends were around for so many good and bad moments growing up, too many to mention here. She’s taught me so much about vulnerability, loving the Lord, and being an honest and loyal friend.
    When we started another children’s center outside the city in Zimpeto, our home for the majority of my years in Mozambique, every Wednesday night my mom would go do street outreach in Maputo and inevitably bring home kids to live at our center. They would shower at our house and generally my brother or I would give away some of our clothes. Once we had a boy newly brought in from the street in our living room, a boy who owned literally nothing. Mom asked if I had anything I’d like to give away, so I went into my room, and after some deliberation I brought back my big stuffed Pumbaa from Disneyland, the same one I tried not to envision while eating warthog. Elisha and I learned from my parents to give things away easily and know we’d be provided for, so much so that once he was down to his last shirt before he finally made a comment. Zimpeto was home to water gun wars with kids and late-night basketball games, and I’m pretty sure I’ve attempted to climb every tree on the expansive property.
    After working on logistics for months, my dad was able to get our first miracle Cessna plane into the country, a plane that endured years of bush outreach trips. We would take family trips to South Africa for supplies, the land of hot water, cheese, and air-conditioning, during which he taught me to help fly. He let me pull back for takeoff, read some of the instruments, and take over for a while, but I have yet to land a plane. Unfortunately, more than one person has been made sick by my zero-gravity practice maneuvers during which my dad would float pens in the air. It’s still a goal of mine to get a pilot’s license one day. Looking back, it’s a bit surreal that I got to fly a Cessna airplane to my braces appointments.
The Struggle
    When people ask me what it was like, I assume some want to know what it was like to have parents constantly pulled on by masses of people who rely on them. Probably our biggest struggle as a family was the need for more alone time. I had loving parents who led busy lives and assumed responsibility for a lot of people. They were in high-intensity situations all the time, having never really been through inner healing, so they had to learn, sometimes