Month: March 2006

  • March 26


     


    I saw a monkey today. I knew they were around somewhere, but I was sitting down and suddenly saw it jump from one palm tree to the next. Nice. That thing under my bed the other day was a water roach thing. Which is why I thought it was a cross of a roach and a lizard. Why it was under my bed and not in water is still to be determined.


     


    Teaching went well this week. I was mature enough not to laugh when my class learned “Flag” and constantly left out the “l,” and I didn’t even make a face when one young student “shee-sheed” (didn’t make it to the restroom in time) all over my sandals. Perhaps because thank the Lord I wasn’t wearing the sandals at the time.


     


    My adventures with buses continue. David and I were waiting for the bus and he decided that carrying the laptop was not safe, so we wrapped it in newspapers. It looked like a bunch of eggs or something. Then I decided to buy a coconut. The guy decided to be generous and gave me this HUGE thing right before I boarded the bus—seriously, it was as big a soccer ball! So David and I, with our “eggs” and mega-coconut get on the bus laughing while I accidentally hit this lady in the head with it. ahhgg. Blending in does not seem to be an option in my life.


     


    Saturday I went to the ferias (open market) alone and just enjoyed it. yes Anna, probably with my mouth open. I noticed I was gapping like a fish a couple of times. And I did run into a tree branch I was so intent on people watching once. But people are just so interesting. From seeing the little girl curled up sleeping under a table on the cobblestone street to trying this meat cone thing and buying green lumpy stuff I think is fruit. I sat down in a restaurant and ordered bean soup (my favorite). The guy looked at me alittle crazy (Brasilians only eat soup for dinner for some reason) but was very nice. It was a small place and the tables were all taken, so a couple minutes later two old ladies sat down with me at the table. Sorta surprising. I did the whole smile and nod routine and we were all happy.


     


    Concessao, an English teacher I’d met at English camp came and invited me to be a judge at a concert her school was doing. Each grade would perform a song in English and we’d grade it. We arrive and I am introduced as “my American friend” to everyone we pass and I feel special. I felt even special-er when this lady brought all the judges snacks (some interesting sweet things that I still have NO clue what they were. I’ve gotten used to not asking questions and just eating). I was wilting alittle after three hours and we still had the last two grades…and about three fans for a couple hundred people. Then I see Concessao beckoning me down. I knew it. it was like that dream where suddenly they call you to the front…except thank goodness it was not the dream where you realize you forgot your clothes. So she had me say some stuff in English and then try out my Portuguese for these people I’ve never met…and I am thinking “yeeshh this would never happen in the US.” It is amazing how many of these kind of situations have happened to me. When I left the stage I was instantly transformed into a superstar. People were introducing themselves to me and smiling and waving…and I am thinking, “I am the same person I was two minutes ago when no one looked me in the eye. Weird.” Life. What a trip.


     


    Sunday must be the day people drink. Or something. Ivana, Neisse, Ricardo and I went to Laoga De Itaenga. Ricardo worked it out where he can go every other week (with gas money). Ivana is teaching the children’s class and yours truly is now in charge of sharing the verse and playing a game to memorize it. fun. There were too many of us to fit in the little house, so we set up the flannel board in the street and sat against the house facing it. by the end, about 20 kids and adults had gathered, as well as two drunks that kept passing and yelling things like “Oh, Jesus save me.” One time the whole story had to stop as a huge truck wanted to back into the street. Ivana bravely made her way through the story with the drunk guy sitting about two feet in front of her, but besides him, the children were very well-behaved. How does a person turn into a drunk? I just looked at him, wondering how someone could make the choices to become something like that. you just feel so sorry for the guy.


     


    Afterward, we ate some Jaka (I don’t know how to spell it and I don’t know what it is in English) which is this huge green prickly thing. The fruit is around big seeds, so you stick a piece in your mouth and suck it off the seed—but it is so stringy that you swallow half with the other half still attached and in your mouth. An interesting sensation. Besides that fact, I would say it tastes like mushy bananas.


     


    We had more people at the new church plant in the evening—about 30—including another drunk guy who spent the entire time walking around the front making various noises and saying various religious stuff. An American, Ron Beard, is here to teach an evangelism class at the seminary. He preached while Tele translated, so I understood the whole message…I almost understood it all twice.


     


    “There is a way chosen for you. “Who then, is the man that fears the Lord? He will instruct him in the way chosen for him” (Ps. 25:12) God has a specific plan for you, and as you trust and follow Him, the plan unfolds. His will for you, His design for your life, fits you in every way. It is not a generic, off-the-rack plan that would fit just anyone. As you surrender to Him, you do not lose yourself, you find yourself. As you obey him step by step, a steadfast peace settles on you. Your heart cries, “My food is to do the will of the one who sent me!” His will satisfies your deepest yearnings, nourishes your soul, strengthens you. His will is all you need and all you desire.” Jennifer Kennedy Dean


     


  • This is the class doing the Elephant song. very fun.



    This is the new church plant. way cool–we got our new sign up. it is just a room going back off the street.



    this is my roommate. shes great.



    This is my room. behold my bed right next to the porch thing with the great view. the other door is the bathroom.

  • March 21


     


    I have found that I will do just about anything to put off having to do homework. Including cleaning the room. My room is spotless at the moment. Whew, I will be glad when these internet classes are over. I just finished my fourth research paper. Bleh.


     


    Joao told me he likes my classes better than his other school. Yesss. Allan has started a game for all the kids…they fit a big lego block on top of a log block and give popcicles to everyone. Their newest invention is the chocolate popcicle which they delight to give me so I will make my funny face and say “eekkka, chocolate!” since I don’t like chocolate. I think they believe all Amercians don’t like chocolate since I have thus represented us…sorry guys.


     


    Something…I cannot decide if it was a lizard, frog, or cockroach (they are all about the same size here) just crawled under Ivana’s bed. Yesterday it rained, meaning the attack of the ants. These are not normal ants…they are flying ants and they are huge! And they smell fear, because they always go after me. we had a teachers meeting and not only was it in Portuguese, but the ants were straigically headed my way—making it hard to concentrate. Every once in a while Ivana would come to my rescue and BAM BAM BAM finish them off.


     


    Ivana is my roommate. She is 30 something and I don’t really know much about her except she went to Word of Life and became part of Tele’s family like everyone else. She is an amazing teacher, working great with kids. She also knows sign language and is heading up the mime/drama program here. She loves God and I love her already. She is teaching at the International school as well as attending the seminary. Please pray for her right now…she is missing her family/emotional struggles. I feel horrible because I see her crying, but I don’t really know why or even how to ask her. My emotional vocabulary is pretty limited in Portuguese. So I give her regular hugs and hope she understands. I think she does.


     


    Today is Tele and Heather’s 20th Anniversary!!! They went to Recife on business—I hope they actually took a lunch break to enjoy the day. Craziness. Tele was up at 6 at their house talking to the electrician. That is how it is. 20th…that is a big day. I wish I could do so much for them and give them what they deserve. They’ll never get it this side of heaven. So God, are you building another room for their mansion? Please take a moment to pray for God’s blessing on their lives. The hours get long and the days are full.


     


    They are my heroes. There is no one else like Tele in the world to inspire you, and God has given him this gift to bestow vision. I would do anything for Heather, who is one of the wisest people I know and has the gift to get things done and pull them off well. Together they are saving the world, completmenting each other as only God can put people together. Happy Anniversary Tele and Heather. I love you guys.


     


    Get this: Faith (obeying the present-tense voice of God) is the substance (equals) of things hoped for (the vision and promises God gives us)… Hebrews 11:1 “Every time we act on the present voice of God (faith), the promises (vision) of God are revealed on earth…Faith proves God’s promises are real.” –Jennifer Kennedy Dean


     


    “God’s call on your life is encoded in your DNA. You are put together in such a way that your whole being—your physical appearance, your emotional style, your personally type, talents…sense of humor, passions—all of you is the packaging for your vision. You were born to flesh out this vision. God is a strategic thinker, and He has carefully put you together and given you everything you need and timed your appearance on earth so that it all coninsides with His vision for you.” –JKD


     


    Oh to God that you would KNOW His incredible vision for your life.

  • March 18


    My computer is possessed. I think ants crawled in and attacked the mouse or something, because the little pointer thing is erratic and keeps closing everything down on me. Anyone know how to fix that?


    So I have been here a month already. Time sure goes fast when you are working hard. I woke up at 5:30 and looked at the clock, scared that my alarm had not gone off. Then, past the shock came the honey-sweet thought of ¡§oh, it is Saturday.¡¨ Ahhh.


    I¡¦ve got a pretty good routine down now, using the curriculum for classes. God has opened up all the opportunities I was hoping for¡Xand more. Thursday nights I am teaching English at the seminary for whoever comes, and Fridays I am teaching at the church in Timbauba. Heather has asked me to sing on most Sundays at the new church plant (which will also encourage me to learn more songs in Portuguese) and Ricardo set it up where I can go with him a couple times a month to Laoga De Itaenga and help with the children¡¦s program. How amazing.


    ¡§Sacrifice in its essence is the exuberant, passionate love-gift of the best I have to the one I love best.¡¨ ¡VOswald Chambers


    I¡¦ve gotten more familiar with the bus system too. They never let me see them, but I think they are laughing at me behind my back. I always manage to catch the faster busses, meaning that by the time I can flag them down, they have stopped quite a distance down the road¡XI¡¦ve learned to just wave frantically and start running before they pull over. And they never charge me the same amount. I wonder if they are thinking ¡§hmm, how much can we get out of her today?¡¨


    There are wonderful things about having a door that opens to a small porch in your room¡Kand then there are the side effects. Like the lizard that resides in the top corner of the room, seeing how close he can get without endangering his existence. Or the mosquitoes. They have delighted in the ¡§fresh blood¡¨ but I have valiantly fought back, becoming fearless in my swatting and smacking, even if I know all it will do is leave bug remains on my hands. My bed sheet looks like a warrior graveyard or something, where I¡¦ve smacked down the buggers¡Xor rolled over them in my sleep, and they¡¦ve left the blood of their victims (namely, me). I have got to wash it.


    We will either have dryers in heaven or not have to wear clothes. Because dryers are gifts from God. Tele got their washing machine and dryer set up, and so after three weeks, I got to wash my clothes. A three-week-old towel is not pleasant¡Xand I¡¦d tried to hand wash it, but towel material STILL STINKS no matter what you do to it. I¡¦d finally resorted to ironing and spraying perfume on it (David called me French). There must be some unknown secret to surviving without modern conveniences that people refuse to share with me.


    Blast Your light into the darkness
    Let it shine and blind the evil
    Let it bring out every secret
    And make every jewel shine


    I feel like I have my own humming bird. I haven¡¦t decided what to name him. After teaching all day I go for a walk around the Alcance around the beautiful flowers and trees and wind and sunshine. And there is a humming bird I see in one area all the time. So small and fast and beautiful. I made a theory of beauty. I think everyone has their daily quota of beauty that they need. That is why God made the world the way He did. Don¡¦t put beauty in a box¡Xyou can find it anywhere¡Kin the humming bird, in the wind, (nature does seem to be the most obvious), stars, sun¡Kbut also in a kind word, a moment alone, a deep thought, a hammock, Bible verse, prayer¡KI think it is important to find ways to put beauty into your life. So often we push through day after day after day with the ¡§nose to the grindstone¡¨ (which is not wrong and hard work is part of life and actually very satisfying, but) not stopping to use that nose to ¡§smell the roses¡¨ or take time for beauty¡XBeauty in true essence being God Himself. When I take moments to stop my life and enjoy beauty, I open myself up to the still small voice of God. Those are the times when prayer becomes real.


    ¡§Joy means the perfect fulfillment of that for which I was created and regenerated, not the successful doing of a thing¡Kwe have all to find out niche in life, and spiritually we find it when we receive our ministry from the Lord. In order to do this we must have companied with Jesus¡KThe call is loyalty to the ministry you received when you were in real touch with Him¡K¡¨ –Oswald Chambers


    From that quote I figured this:


    Joy (peace¡Kany of the fruit of the Spirit)  =
    Doing what you were created for  =
    Purpose in life  =
    Specific ministry from God  =
    Knowing God intimately


    Each one of these things relates together with the rest of them: Joy is knowing God intimately, joy is having purpose in life, joy is a specific ministry from God¡Kpretty neat, even if Karine pointed out that although it might work spiritually, it would not work mathematicallyƒº.


    And how do we know God intimately? I return to the old answers of reading your Bible, praying, and time. You have to set aside time away to actually get down past the shallow world we live in. Sometimes you can start praying or reading after a couple minutes and sometimes it takes a couple hours. Mostly you gotta get through all the dirt and masks you¡¦ve picked up in day-to-day living. Then you talk to God (prayer) and He talks to you (Bible). (Personally, I also have to write it down before my brain can digest what I am learning) Then you let that time take over your life. Those are the moments when you really live. Not when you are out and about, laughing loudly or smiling widely.


    Hey…in case you wanted to know…my snail mail addy is:


    Rachel WInzeler
    Alcance Brasil
    Cx Postal 29
    CEP 55819-970
    Brasil

  • This was the birthday party i went to. They had me go first, but i didn’t know how to get the food on to my plate, and i didn’t know what the heck the food was. it turned out to taste something like Fettachine Alfredo. fun.

     

    Ok. don’t get freaked. this is a Community Church. but they tried to go to the beach, and couldn’t. they could not go to the pool…and no one has baptismals. plus, it is a draught (sp?) so…Josue explained all that and then did the whole water on the head thing. this is Messinho.

    This is Raul.

    my boys with Isabela, Juliana, and a Bible.

    This is most of the church…or all that could fit in the picture. Great times. i start teaching an English class at their church next Friday.

  • March 13


     


    My brother just told me that he loved me more than an apple. Before I could get too offended, he added that he loved me more than Christmas. Where he gets this, I don’t know. But I am glad to be bumped from apple to Christmas.


     


    Our water was stinking so they went and checked the water container thingy (I really don’t know how exactly it works) and found a dead pigon in there. Blekkkkk. So they cleaned it out…but that does not take away my thought that I brushed my teeth this morning with that water. This is one of the many reasons why we only drink bottled water.


     


    I am such a blessed person. Tele and Heather took most of the money that I gave them for room and board this month and purchased a nice wardrobe for Ivana and I. We only had our beds and suitcases laying around, so unpacking and making everything look good…is really nice. The store people came on Saturday morning with the pieces of the wardrobe and then stayed in our room a put it together for a couple of hours. As I was still in my pajamas, I tried to stay out of the way, but the delivery guys found my English fasinating.


     


    I caught the bus to Timbauba and let the sun shine in on my face the whole time. The wind was blowing, and am pretty sure that wind must be the breath of God because…it’s so perfect. There is nothing like the ride to Timbauba. Being alone on the bus, surrounded by Brasilians and culture, the smells, the sounds, the bumps…the view. Incredible. You pass all these houses with people sitting on their porches…most of them poor sugar cane workers who will be born, live, and die walking the same paths through those fields that generations before them have. Two little girls giggled as they got on the bus and squeezed their faces out the window. It was a treat to them to get to ride the bus. Behind them their mother noisly came on, arguing so loudly and violently I could not understand—and I am glad—as I did understand her middle finger continually expressing itself. I wonder what kind of life those girls will have.


     


    I was greeted in Timbauba by more than just the people I remember…Raul’s whole family has decided they love me and I had his little cousins begging for a hug while his mother told me that so many people have heard about me and love me…yikes. I don’t deserve this…popularity, and I am not sure I want the responsibility that accompanys it either.


     


    I had REAL conversations (in Portuguese) while I was there. Good ones. The deep kind. It was great for my Portuguese, but meant so much to me to deepen those relationships. Sometimes I wonder. I wonder, well, how much of it is real. Only understanding a certain percentage of what is going on around me is rather limiting. And then everyone knows there is always more going on than what is spoken anyways. It is easy enough to tell me life is good and you are growing in God when it is just making the poor Americana feel good—goodness, my kids in the US would tell me that all the time just to get me off their back.


     


    And then the baptisms. Last year Timbauba had their first baptism service, baptizing over 10 people (about 1/4th the church). Some of my boys were baptized, but some of them were not sure about it. I had some great opportunities to talk to them about it, and so Timbauba had their second baptism service on Sunday, and I got to see my boys baptized. Wow. The past two years I’ve had the opportunity to go with my girls at the youth center and see some of them baptized. Each time it is a special epoch (if I might steal that word from history) in my life. Seeing my babies grow. It is such a visible step in discipleship. Can’t stop the tears. I’ll never forget it.


  • Karine being a great teacher. this was our nature walk.



    This is the Cicada (sp?) tree. you know, those bugs that shed their skin. there are TONS of them there. the kids were enthralled. very educational.



    the morning classes L to R: John, Carol, Filephe, Neto, Milena, Allan, and Livia. With Ivana, my amazing roommate.



    my afternoon class. crazy, yet fun. gotta love ém.



    opps. forgot to switch this to stand up. so crank your neck. this is Joao and Bruno. they keep me on my toes. they tried to slide down the steps before i could catch them.

  • March 7, 2006


    Heather told Tele that we had two big problems. One, Carol went home crying today, and another is Mateus is not listening in school. Then, she added, Carol went home crying because she could not come back for the afternoon class, and Mateus was not listening in school (during the morning when he attends a different school) because he kept asking his teacher how to say things in English and she didn’t knowJ. I can handle those kind of problems.


     


    I just finished washing my clothes. Solzinha. We don’t have a washing machine here at the moment, so it is by hand. I consider myself quite the expert since I washed my own clothes for three months last trip. I also still manage to get myself just as wet as the clothes when I wash them.


     


    Sometimes it is difficult. Today I bought some flip-flops and the lady was trying to explain to me something about the change but I could not understand, so she gave me “the look.” The “You are dumb but I will be nice since you are a rich American” look. I hate it. I think I dislike the patronizing part even more than them thinking I am dumb. Bleh. Or things like taking the bus so I can use the internet, forgetting where the place is and temporarily freaking out, then finding that we only have one computer to use and three people need to use it. I really really miss instant internet access.


     


    March 11


     


    “You are limiting God by expecting of Him only what you can imagine.” Jennifer Kennedy Dean


     


    The second week of school. Wow. I think we’ve changed and modified it as much as we did the first week. The good news is that we are finding out what works and what does not work. The great news is that my curriculm finally came. Yep, I was making it up and praying “Dear God don’t let them know I don’t know what I am doing!” I really like the new plans and am excited about implementing them next week. The mornings are pretty set and regular now, except Karine got strep throat and so we were scrambling to cover her spot…meaning I was left alone for large amounts of time with three kids under 5 who barely understand me and I normally don’t understand. The secret of my success? Smile and nod. It normally satisfies preschoolers, unless they just asked “Can I go jump in the pool teacher?” but they haven’t caught on to my cluelessness yet, so I am fine.


     


    As for the afternoons, Monday I had one student, Friday I had 11. three cheers for flexility. Afternoons are only two hours and that includes snacktime, so it goes pretty quickly. but I have to admit that after teaching “How are you, I’m fine thank you, my name is, good afternoon, please…” I felt like I was running out of words in the English language. Smile. This week we worked on shapes and colors. After school on Thursday I felt like I never wanted to say “circle” again in my life. After teaching it for 6 hours…bleh. Words get ugly.


     


    I really like my students. Sometimes I get weird looks, but for the most part, they are all willing to repeat after me, and I must say that is very fulfilling to hear them say “bye-bye teacher!” dragging their backpacks to the door at the end of the day. My afternoon class has a 3 year old, a couple 5 year olds, a couple 7 year olds, and then two 9 and 10 year old boys. Oh, gotta love ‘em. On Friday the main word they learned was “crazy” in English. Bruno and Joao. Check out their picture and the others on my weblog (www.xanga.com/rwinzeler).


     


    Compassion. I need God to teach me. Class was over and I was escaping to my daily walk (I call it my survival walk. By 4pm my head is a blur and I find that walking sorts my brain out) when this man came into the Alcance driveway towards me. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and noticed he was dressed like, well, we’d call him a bum in the US. Dirty and crusty, either he was a bum or a sugar cane/manual poor labor worker. I lowered my eyes and wondered why he was here and glad that the guard (yes, we have a guard that constantly err…guards the place) was there to talk to him and find out what he needed. As I turned the corner I heard him mumble “Agua.” The verse hit my heart “Whoever gives a glass of water to the least of these…” I pass so many people very day, I see them out the window when we drive, I’ve become desensitized to where they are all just moving things, not souls. But that man had a life. He had dreams, desires, wishes, hurts, loves—just like I do. What if he were Jesus? Would I be so busy in my own life that I’d lower my eyes and pass on by?


     


    In the Bible I am in the middle of Numbers and thoroughly disgusted with the Isrealites. They are quite pathetic. And then I remember me and my issues. Perhaps the Isrealites are in the Bible to let me know I am not alone in my struggles. Yep.


     


    Teaching kids is teaching me how to live life today. Because no matter how much I plan, you have to take it as it comes. Kids refuse to be predictable. So instead of looking at my week, I now look at the next two hours of class time and wonder “So God, what do you have for us now? Just help me through this class.” Don’t ‘cha love it?


     


    Sometimes I sit and wonder if love is really worth it. Loving people is rather exhausting. so often it is a nusance and a pain. But those are also the times I sit and wonder if life is worth it…so I am feeling rather depressed at that moment anywaysJ. Of course love is worth it. And you know what? I think it is the pain and nusance that MAKES it worth it. Love is a choice, and because the choice is hard (at times) it makes it more valuable. If love was simply a thought of “well, there is nothing else to do, so I might as well love you” then love would be pathetic. But the point is, there is always other choices. The choice to hate, to be apathetic, to ignore—or to find a substitute. There are always substitutes for love—always someone else available or something else to do. But the beauty of love is that I choose YOU. Okay, end of whimsical moment.


     


    (David’s part) “You are my hiding place; You shall preserve me from trouble; You shall surround me with songs of deliverance.  (God’s response) I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will guide you with my eye.” Psalms 32:7-8

  • I went to be last night with the sounds of people jumping in the pool and got up hearing them play futebol outside my window. I stumbled into the bathroom and found a lizard having seizures above my sing and decided to wait until later to have my cold shower. Ricardo says that it is summer here so everyone takes cold showers. But at 6 in the morning, I still consider it cruel and unusual punishment.


     


    I love living at the Alcance. It is the hotel turned into seminary and now international school. All the community churches use it for mini-retreats and get togethers. Today Guadalajara church is here, hence the 6am futebol game. I hear the kids playing foosball and Lenuison is playing something on the guitar. The guy is a musical genius. He’s liked me every since I sang with the band and liked his “black” style. For some reason I can understand his English, which he normally uses to make everyone laugh at him. That is Lenusion’s purpose in life—to make others laugh—and he will do it by making up songs in the kitchen or breaking out into song during breakfast.


     


    (Review for those who haven’t been reading my e-mails) The first week I was here we started the international school so I was teaching all day without knowing what I was doing (I am not really sure what I am doing now but that is normal—actually, the English curriculum hasn’t arrived yet. Opps). It was difficult because I didn’t have time to rest up and we were still adjusting how we were teaching. The younger kids didn’t like me because I was speaking English and could not understand them well. They thought I was weird and normally tried to correct my English with the Portuguese word. After school was over, everyone spoke Portuguese and since I understand more now, they don’t stop and translate or slow down for me anymore. I would stand there thinking, “Gosh, I wanna go back to when I was special.” The most valuable thing I learned all week was the Portuguese word for “share.” Which sounds like “DVD.”


     


    The second week was vacation as Brasil readied itself to party and I readied myself to sleep. Ahh, it was nice, and my church from Timbauba (where I lived for 3 months) came for a mini-camp. So I played futebol and games and loved hanging out with my boys, who are just like my kids from the youth center. Now I feel like I am back and fit in again. I love wearing flip-flops and sleeping with a fan on and only needing a sheet. I love the sky, which is so clear you can see three times more stars, the sun that burns my nose, and the wind that rushes through my room when I open the door. I have alittle patio thing off my room that I open every morning and see the fresh sun light up the futebol field, the trees that line the property, the gorgeous house down the road, and then the sugar cane hills until the horizon.


     


    The rest of Brasil? Well, you just gotta come and see for yourself. The invitation is there, ya know.


     


    Sunday night we went to the new church plant. We are the church. The small group started a while ago and now they’ve rented a facility and we meet here. Tele’s family: Tele preaches, Heather plays the piano, Karine sings, David does power point. We brought Gilson and Ivana, and Gilson sings and Ivana is teaching the children. We practiced songs (two of which I knew and the others I tried to learn as we sang…mrrph.) until 20 after seven (we start at 7) and I was thinking “well, since it is just us, maybe we can reuse the message and song service since we practiced already…” when two ladies came in, followed by the invited preacher and a couple of others. Then we began church. That is what it is all about. 13 years ago they did that in the first church, and now 10 churches later, we continue on.


     


    Two years ago I did the same thing in Timbauba. I remember being alittle incredulous when it was just us every Sunday. But now look at it, it is all grown up (I feel like a mom talking about her kid here). I looked at Karine and said “so this is what you’ve been doing all your life.” Hmm. It is so different from what I am used to. I get the feeling sometimes that you go “church shopping” in the US, like people come and think “so what do YOU have to tempt me to go to YOUR church?” I remember being shocked when someone in my youth group told me that they would show up, see who was there, and if  “so and so” was there, they’d stay. It wasn’t about God, it was about what it would give them. Even sometimes when I’ve been a worship leader and I see blank eyes staring at me I wonder if they are thinking “How are you going to entertain me today?”


     


    When it is just us at church, it is pretty clear we are there to GIVE, not to get. We all play a part in the evening. We all need each other to make the night special. We all have made the choice to come to a building and make it church instead of staying at home because we want to set aside time to honor God. Even if we are the only ones that show up (which happens too). Someday I am gonna see this church all grown up, but right now, it is new. It is a baby. It is not about people because there aren’t any. God is here. And the evening was a success.


     


    Life is so much MORE than you see. Thank goodness for the invisible. It makes life what it is. But there is a war going on. Prayer is not for the faint of heart. I am learning to open up my eyes. So often I close them again because it is scary. Really really. But come with me. It is an adventure.


     


    Open up your eyes and see these warning signs


    Breaking through your heart and all the reason of your mind


    Open up to find your action leaves behind


    The very hope that’s given for the world to feel alive


     


    Chorus: And the time has come to realize


    And see the plan you’ve been designed for


    So face the fear of all unknown and see the heart inside


    So open up your eyes


    So open up your eyes


     


    Throw yourself aside and hear the gentle cry


    Of the peace that gave up all to fill the void inside


    Give away the fight, release your foolish pride


    The very bond is broken down you need to leave behind


     


    Chorus


     


    Can you sense the feeling that there’s more than what you know?


    It’s a fire that burns within that only seems to grow


    There’s a price that’s given and which only love can pay


    And the time is here and now, don’t let it fade away


     

    So open up your eyes…                  –Jeremy Camp

  • The girls stole the guys clothes and strung them up. i was only slightly guilty. i only took their toothbrushes. *wicked grin*

     

    Rediculous night. oh yeah. too much going on here to try to explain:). can you find me?

    They really can play. but this was them dressed up…don’t you love Josue (far right)?