awww. see? castle. with a bunch of armor inside. and scantily clad women. i don’t think they go together. i think they needed more clothes. they should have put the armor on the women and solved the whole problem. grin. i crack myself up. This is Roberto and Karine.

I said “this is the funny picture!” and then i am the only one with my mouth open. why is life always like that? On the left is Gabriel (my American in crime) and Ivana (my roomie that i almost attacked the other night in my sleep), me with my mouth, and Karine not knowing where to look.

by this time, we were through enjoying all of the lovely art and such…and were just makin fun of it. opps.

this was the slap happy stage. the statue was definately…

don’t ask me what i am doing…my impressions are really horrid. and don’t ask me to do an accent. David and Karine are still laughing at what they call my “trying to be English” from last week.

May 29

Mondays a full. After teaching all day, I teach in the evening for whoever wants to come to the Alcance. I get into my teaching mode…and it seems to continue in my sleep. The past couple of Monday nights I’ve apparently been talking in my sleep, saying things like “no, that is now how you say it” or “how do you say “por favor” in English?” Ivana mentioned it, but it was not until last week when I sat up in bed (or so I am told) faced her bed and said “Ivana, say “How are you” in English! Again, again!” and then laid back down to leave my roommate awake and distressed. All I remember was dreaming about the vocabulary words for that day. Bleh.

Ironic. That is what you could call last week. Ever heard of God being the “Divine Thwarter?” Check out “Journey of Desire” by John Eldredge. It seemed like every move I tried to do things my way would not work. Example: the bus did not come on Saturday. I waited for an hour…and then it started raining. When the bus did come, it was standing room only. The electricity blew up when I wanted to make a phone call…and so on and so forth.

 

It was my dad’s birthday on Thursday, as well as Ricardo’s (pastor of Guadalajara), Joseman’s (pastor of Carpina), and John’s (my John here). We had a churrasco…which is another word for sitting, talking, and eating all this meat as soon as it came off the grill. Yum. Happy 59^th dad! It wasn’t really the smoothest birthday, as my mom spent Wednesday night in the hospital for some surgery thing that puts something up your vein to check out your heart (it starts with a “c”). It was a bit scary. I looked out the window and realized just how quickly my life could change. How everything I loved and cared about could be taken away or in a moment…one phone call telling me that the test has shown something bad. I’ve been alittle jumpy with phone calls lately. Grr.

 

But I am glad to report that Mom does not have anything wrong with her heart, only that it is sweetJ, and she is recouperating, and said that hospital food is really very nice when I asked her how it went. She had some fish.

 

I have come to realize my complete deficiency in dealing with pain. Especially in other people. About the best thing I could come up with lately was “so, it really hurts, huh?”

 

I tried to hold it inside

Pretend that everything

Was alright

Go on laughing

 

But sorrows escaped

Through the cracks in the window

Until all the truth flooded through

Blinding my perceptions

Of life and living

 

Let it in

Let it hurt

Let it show me

The way

 

To my heart

To my soul

To the life

Hid with Him

All that I was learning

All that’s come to be

Was it all just practice

And only now I see?

 

“Jesus refused. “First things first. Your business is life, not death. Follow me. pursue life.” Mt. 8:22 The Message Remix version

 

so a bunch of people died in Sao Paulo, Brasil (4 hour plane ride from me). My parents were asking me about it, and sad to say, I really had no clue what was going on. They didn’t seem to take it very seriously here in Brasil. We just found out the leader of the gang causing all of it…yeah, he was living next door to the best friend of the family living here with me. pretty shocking. Or not. Weird…no one else seems to find that ironic.

 

Sunday’s have been neat. A couple weeks ago a drunk (and smelly) guy came in to join us for church. he ended up getting saved…at least we hoped, since he was not fully sober. Tele followed up with him and has been visiting him. Yesterday the same man came to church, clean inside and out. Half the people did not even recognize him, the transformation is so amazing. Praise God! Please pray that he would continue to grow in the Lord, stay sober, and be able to provide for his 5 kids. His wife has now started to drink, making it even harder. Yesterday another drunk came to join us (perhaps it is the location…we are close to quite a few bars) and was very interested in Christianity. Pray for these opportunities. Tele said maybe someone should always wait in the back for the not-so-sober people to wander in.

 

Happy Memorial Day! Too bad we don’t celebrate it here. I could have used the extra sleep.

 

We went to a castle. Yep. they had more signs than anything else, saying “do not step on the grass” or “do not touch” it was driving me insane. Not that I wanted to touch them…but just because they said not to it brought out my rebelliousness or something. But the guards with the guns squelched that pretty quickly.

 

 

i dunno what the heck the US dollar is doing, but i am happy. for some reason the exchange rate went up yesterday…meaning i get about 20R$ extra this month. sweet. Economy blows my mind.

 

THIS is the day.

My Father’s 59th birthday. yep, 59. and since he never reads my xanga, i can say just about anything i wanna say. and guess what…i can’t think of anything,darn it. Happy Birthday Daddy. i love you.

 

And my dad spends his birthday in the hospital. actually, not for him…my mom is having some kind of test for her heart…i heard something about a vein, a stint, dye…and am totally confused. but anyways, she had to stay there overnight. yuck. please pray for my family! I was looking out the window today and it suddenly hit me that my whole life could change by a phone call….finding out something was seriously wrong with my mom and needing to return to the US…weird. Life…it can change in a moment…then othertimes it seems to drag on for eternity.

My sister is coming in two weeks. YEP. two weeks. she passed her drivers licence yesterday. she’s a big girl now, eh? and then she got her results back from the GED…the smarty pants not only got honors, but she got enough to get a scholarship this fall. So guess what two party girls are heading off to Ivy Tech this August?

 

ok. so i lied about the party part.

fun! The band is named…something in Portuguese…The guys have been coming to my English class on Monday nights. It is alot of fun and they are really talented and love God. Ivana, my roommate is second from the left.

Laoga De Itaenga. in the street. listening to the story. yep. i am the white one.

Here is another view. yep, everything stops when some truck comes through because we have to move the storyboard. and it is normally windy so we are working to save all the little flannel graph thingys from flying away.

awww.they loved their papers with the verse on them.

The lady in the back right is the Jaka lady–who walked two hours to give me the fruit. This week she gave us all Pitomba…you crack the shell with your teeth then suck on the white stuff around a big seed. it is nice and sour.

this little girl kept asking me for my pitombas. she was so proud of her glasses:).

Family picture…L to R: Alyssa (13), Karine (18), Johnny (going to be 6 this Thursday–who was NOT wanting his picture taken), Tele (who i caught with his eyes closed), David (15), and Heather (due the end of July). i love ém!

 

What is change

How does it really happen

Is it a decision

Is it coming to the end

Of yourself

Is there a formula

May I box it up

And sell it for a price

Is the answer in

One more book

I put on my shelf?

 

Do I just have to try

Again

To get back up

And do better next time

Or is it for real

 

What is advice

When you come to me

Saying you want to change

Is it empty words

You brush off your shoulders

 

Is it really helping

Anything at all

Why do you tell me

If you don’t plan on

Doing anything about it

How bad do you want it

To get

Before you are willing

To do something

To change

To get rid of the substitutes

Are you still wanting

To sit and feed off

Distractions

As they drain you dry

As they destroy all

That you once valued

Who are you becoming

And why

 

When will you wake up

And will it be too late

Is it ever too late

As you kill off your

Opportunities one by one

What is left

What is change

Where is the miracle

 

Do I only want

A miracle

To see you step in and

Save the day

To do the dirty work

For me

So it is easy

For me to do

The right thing

That is not a miracle

What I want is heaven

Where all that is

Wrong is gone

But for right now

Will you show me

What a miracle really is

And how to live today

In the battle

With the blood

The sweat

The struggle

The pain

What is change?

I taught the kids how to say “Uncle” this week. They then asked me if “Aunt” was “Uncla.” It actually makes perfect sense in Portuguese. And explain to me why “Ch” sound is not the same in Christ…and why “Christian” does not use the same sound as “Christ.” In Timbauba today, they decided that English was officially ridiculous for this. And I refuse to try to defend English if I think it is too. They also spelled “of” O-V.

 

Friday I went to a gospelfest in Paudalho. One band had invited me…and paid for my ticket since I am their English teacher on Mondays. I have found it amazing how teaching English suddenly puts me in contact with lots of people. Karine was on the bus talking to someone from Paudalho who had a friend in Timbauba who were trying to pronounce this weird last name of some girl teaching English. The name was “Winzeler.” Freaky. The gospelfest was a lot of fun. Even if my conception of dancing basically consists of playing air guitar.

 

I ate some stringy green stuff today. It was sorta like spinach. I think it was a vegetable.

 

“The joy of anything, from a blade of grass upwards, is  fulfill its created purpose.” –Oswald Chambers

 

Psalm 65:11 “You crown the year with your goodness, and your paths drip with abundance.”

 

The guy who owns the bank in Timbauba (meaning, rich) wanted to put his son in our school. 11 is ever so much more than 10 students, and so they decided to preserve my life and say he needed to wait until next semester.

 

I have lived here for over a year now…putting all the time together. Wow.

 

I’m not here to save the world. In fact, I don’t want to. I want a new world the way it was supposed to be. I realized that I’ve been taken too much responsibility, trying to find, label, and fix the problems around me. I’ve come to some conclusions: there are problems. People have problems. People are messed up and will always have problems. I have problems. My advice does not solve problems. It may help explain them, but it does not change them. I’m not going to find the secret formula for change or for miracles or for saving the world because there isn’t any. This is nice to know. My responsibility is simply my relationship with God. As I follow Him, He brings the opportunities and times to share His words with others. And then it is His choice and in His hands to do what He will. And sometimes…I just need to listen.

 

the angry smily face (oxymoron) is because for some reason the computer did not want to let me write anything. oh well. now i works. since i put a angry smily face. get that.

i have been tagged. six weird things about me.

1. i walk around with my mouth open. i watch movies with my mouth open. i have millions of pictures with my mouth open. people are always telling me to close my mouth

2. i don’t like chocolate. or coke. for this, i have been excommunicated from the Coombs family. or at least threatened.

3. i love mustard. mustard with cheese and bread.

4. i wear skirts almost all the time. and always wear shorts under them. just in case i get invited to an impromptu to basketball game (or in Brasil, futebol)

5. i sing all the time. and never remember the words so i make them up. this makes for some interesting songs. especially when it is a Portuguese song.

6. i am not ticklish. ok. i lied. but i can control it. yep. THE POWER OF RACHEL.

May 16

I know the feeling. Wanting to be alone. To be somewhere where no one knows, and, for the moment, no one cares or realizes. I would not want it to stay that way. I like being noticed. But for now, obscurity looks inviting. To watch without being seen. To listen without being heard. To make a sudden change of decisions just because the idea suddenly passed through my head. To untie yourself from all that normally holds you and have space to move and breathe and trip on the sidewalk without anyone pointing and laughing. To think the thoughts you’ve had to push aside all week. To forget about how you look or do and just rest. Refuse to look at your watch. Take pleasure in the passing time. Watch the shadows move, the fly alighting on your leg. This is you. This is who you’ve forgotten to be. This is a moment with no expectations. With no callings. Where is God? Is he with the birds singing? In the person passing by? The warmth of the sunshine on your skin? The gentle wind brushing past your face? Is He beside you, pointing out the beauty, in front of you watching your beauty? Is He resting, with His head in your lap? What is He saying? What does He want you to hear and know before you break the moment. Before you stand up and walk back to the struggle, to the job, to the smiling because it is the right thing to do.

Will they wonder where you were? Will they ask you what happened and not really listen when you tell them? Would you even be able to explain why—why you were not satisfied to say, to continue on, to leave your heart locked up and to accomplish just alittle more business…alittle more work. Maybe they won’t understand. And that is alright. Because you’ve been there. You’ve practiced His presence.

Let the beauty hurt and ache and burn your soul. Let the silence speak and shout and rage at the injustice of this world. Let the burden of pain and grief and accumulation of little things slide off your heart. Alone. Naked. Empty. Present yourself anew. A living sacrifice.

 

That was my moment on Saturday. It was awesome. I had been invited to many different places for lunch but decided to grab a burger and eat it in some obscure place in Timbauba. Alone. Yeah. I feel asleep on the bus. Woke up in a panic thinking I missed my stop and was going to Recife. But I wasn’t. I also got on the wrong bus. The BIG sign said it was going to Timbauba. The little sign at the bottom said it was returning from Timbauba. Silly me for reading the BIG sign, eh?

 

The American’s are ganging up on Brasilians. There are now two of us here. Gabriel arrived on Saturday. He is a good guy and is fitting in quickly. My only problem with him is that he gets to go on long walks alone without getting in trouble. Because “he’s a man.” Bleh. He also likes milk in a box and all those other weird things that it took me months to get used to. And he can communicate already with everyone since he knows Spanish. Some people got it good. I find it funny to see how the kids respond to him. Even though I speak English with them all the time, they somehow think it is a whole new thing to hear the same words in a masculine voice. Smile.

 

We went to Guadalajara for discipleship class. Carlos was teaching on the ten commandments. Now that I understand more of what is going on around me, I am finding how similar people are around the world. They discussed everything from God’s goodness and sin and evil in the world to the death penalty to lust and wearing mini-skirts. It was great to see the young believers speak out and argue and be honest. And Carlos above it all, trying to keep everyone on track with the lesson. Grin.

 

“My soul, wait silently for God alone, for my expectation is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation. I shall not be moved…Trust in Him at all times, you people; pour out your heart before Him.” Ps.62:5-8

 

yeah, “You people,” get busy pouring!J

May 11

 

I was sure by now

That you would have reached down

And wiped our tears away

Stepped in and saved the day

But once again I say amen

But its still raining

And as the thunder rolls

I barely hear you whisper through the rain

I’m with you

And as your mercy falls

I’ll raise my hands and praise the God

Who gives and takes away

And I’ll praise you in this storm

And I will lift my hands

You are who you are

No matter where I am

And every tear I cried

You hold in your hand

You never left my side

And though my heart is torn

I will praise you in the storm

 

I remember when

I stumbled in the wind

You heard my cries

And raised me up again

My strength is almost gone

How can I carry on

If I can’t find you

And as the thunder rolls

 

I lift my eyes unto the lord

Where does my help come from

My help comes from the Lord

The maker of the heaven and earth—Casting Crowns

 

The mornings are getting colder and so are my 6am showers. The only time I think of myself as the martyr missionary is when I have to force myself under that showerhead.

 

Is it always in tragedy that we find beauty? Does love only bloom in adversity?

Is.62:5b “As a bridegroom rejoices over His bride, so will your God rejoice over you.”

Purity is absolute.

 

I felt so dirty after reading that. So impure. And scared. I don’t want to fall again. It is so easy—at EVERY moment I could reach out and take sin in so many different forms. Sometimes I feel like a crazed cat that just wants to lock myself up in a straight jacked away from everyone so I can’t do anything bad…but even then I am sure I could. The problem is…no matter where I am…I am there.

 

The spiritual fight is heightening. I have felt ready to give up in just about every area of my life the past couple of weeks. I started this “30 hardest days of your life” devotional. They were not kidding. And I don’t think it is really the book…I think it is more that I told God I wanted to do whatever it takes to step off…so He has started opening my eyes to what is really going on—what has always been going on I just was too busy or scared or distracted to see it before. But…it is incredible.

 

I went to Recife to get my visa renewed for another 90 days. I was nervous and wasn’t hungry. When I loose my appetite, you know it is serious…so Heather was like “Well, God wants you here so there will be no problem.” And that was that. I was thinking, yeah, I know that, but does the FBI of Brasil know that? so we went to the Brasilian FBI (they handle the visa stuff for some reason) and…it was annoyingly simple. And after it was over? I hear a sigh of relief behind me and someone saying “whew. I was worried because you were here so long last year—I thought for sure there would me more problems…” yep—it was Heather. Smile. Good thing she didn’t show me her worry…I would have fallen apart.

 

Love so incredible

To know

It’s never gonna go

Love to impossible and true

For anyone but you

 

I think I am on the brink of something large

Maybe like the breaking of the dawn

Maybe like the match being lit

Or the sinking of the ship
let it go with the grip

 

I am finding everything that I’ll ever need

Gotta give it up to gain anything

Falling for you for eternity

Right here at your feet

Where I wanna be

I am yours

Forever, and ever…

 

Love so indelible

To know

Your never gonna go

Love too unthinkable and true

For anyone but you—Dave Chowder Band (they are…weird…deep…I like it.)

 

 “True love is wanting to be pure and good and perfect and beautiful because you know you are loved, not to keep or earn their love.” That’s an original Rachel quote. I think. But then again, probably not. Oh well. It was not intentional plagiarism.

 

I want it to be real

Or not at all

I don’t have time for

Playing games

This nonsense living

Without ever letting go

Does not count for a day

 

If either I am wrong

Or God is wrong

I know it is me

But can I trust to say

That I never see why

That it is okay?

 

It is hard to go to Laoga De Itaenga. I love all the kids and it is not like I am doing any work. I get in the car, pray for them, sit on the sidewalk and then attempt to teach a verse in Portuguese (I think Ivana has it out for me. she picked another long verse. One word I completely gave up on pronouncing correctly…). But it is hard because it refuses to let me forget. It puts in my face the hardships and pain of others. I walk into a smelly house with flies and open sewers and see the amazing people who live there—people with hearts and souls that should be living in mansions while their kids play in manicured yards instead of dirty streets with sewer covered flies landing on them. It is hard to go to Laoga De Itaenga because it means I must step out of my normal perceptions and what makes me comfortable and step into faith that God is still good when I don’t understand. We visited one of the women across town on Sunday. Her husband had suddenly returned after abandoning the family for a couple of years. He was always drunk, so life was easier with him gone. Ricardo asked her if she was alright and she bit her lip and tearfully said that he’d been beating her again. The good news was that he’d left again. For who knows how long. We sat down and prayed with her. She gave us each grateful hugs. When she hugged me I felt her shaking. I felt her pain. It is hard to go to Laoga De Itaenga. But God, never let me forget.

 

Obedience or mere excellence? I read “Every Man’s Battle.” I always seem to get more out of the books written for guys than for girls. Probably because I always set out to fit everyone else until God reveals it was really for me all along. They made a point that pretty much summed up most of my Christian life. Excellence is doing enough to seem prefect, yet not paying the price to go on to all the way. It is finding the median of “Christian” standards and then making sure I am enough above that standard that I am lookin’ good and am nice and satisfied with myself. Obedience is going for God’s standard—it is remembering that God said “Be ye perfect, even as I am perfect.” It is going all the way.

 

“A man once said to D.L.Moody, “The world has not yet seen what God can do with a man fully devoted to Him.” Moody responded, “I am that man!” wow. I want that. am I too scared to say I am that woman? Am I afraid that the path will be too lonely or too hard or too much to handle? Am I still holding on to the illusion that one day I will wake up and find that life is easy? Ain’t happening.

 

I have a new student in the afternoons. 10 students are EVER so much more than 9 for some reason. Her name is Thalita. Her mother stopped by to check out the school…Thalita was her step-daughter and they had just moved. She had been going through a lot of problems and didn’t really like to leave the house except when she had too. Thalita looked in the classroom, saw Adna, her old friend, and asked her mom if she could start that day coming to school here. Needless to say, she’s really enjoyed her first week here. Wow. It seems to be like that with just about all the kids. It must be a God thing because I am no miracle worker. Feliphe was almost kicked out of his last school because he could not be controlled. You should see him smile when he sings “This little light of mine.”

 

Neto showed me where his tongue was attached strangely in the front (a birth thing) today, so I asked him what happened. He said it was glue. God’s glue. Smile. To help the kids remember how to say “Happy Mother’s day” in English, we are singing it to the tune of Happy Birthday. The problem is that I’d already started teaching them “Happy Birthday” correctly. So they normally mix it all together. Who knows what their mothers will hear on Sunday.

 

I love you mommy. And hope you fix the internet in time to read that I do. Even though you already know it. Thanks for telling me what you think and praying and respecting me as an adult. It frees me to be your baby.

Erica…here’s the one i promised you…oh, and it was great to talk to you…i am gonna try calling the youth center again sometime…

Wrianna…oh yeah girl…you look like a rockstar…or whatever it was you said in your e-mail:). so glad you joined the world of xanga! ‘member–be there next time i call! and no boys. cuz i said so.