and more. by the way…this was already officially documented at www.wrbrazil.blogspot.com too. so if you are still with me, you should check out their pictures.

we did this tropical thing…with swing dancing. i normally just get tangled up on the twirly things…but it was fun to try.

The amazing Jeff and Lindsay…it was her birthday yesterday…she’s the neatest:)

things just taste better inside a pineapple

Forrest leading the…congo line?

Anna and her perfect plate eating a red hot chili pepper. on purpose. i spared you the picture of her eating squid and chicken hearts…

sushi baby! i’m a believer…

so this is the end my friends…
we got to go to the beach, only to be eaten by sharks…or at least told by the lifeguard numerous times to stay closer to the shore…
L to R: Matt, Rachael, Katie, Hannah, Carina, Anna, Karine

oh no, it ain’t over yet. that was just up to English camp. feel free to quit looking now if you want…

This is Anna teaching some game called “Good morning madam” i translated…but still didn’t really get it.

This is Mateus from the Basketball clinic. he was my little buddy.

Guess who was in charge of extra games. grin. so we played “futebol de casal”  also known as “couple soccer”

and then there was the mattress relay with kids on top…

And then there was the tail game…but i translated it wrong and went around telling everyone it was a naughty word game…

English class. we had a resturant. where you could only speak English. everyone ordered starbursts.

Our class: L to R: Anna and i, Stenio and Barbra, Davi, Nadia, Jordan, Allian, Luiz, Izadora, and Bonnie

Basketball clinic

The observers of the basketball clinic…who would never play, and enjoyed trying to shock me and discover American cuss words…please pray for these guys.

you ready for the pictures to begin?

drums. i learned alittle. my foot does not coordinate right. bleh

We learned Capoeira…a dance/fighting thing that the slaves made up here in Brasil (if you wanna see an example…it is on Ocean’s 12…how the French guy gets by the alarm…)

L to R: Anna (with the hat), Carina (with the mouth), Matt and me (on top and bottom), and Jordan

We had a youth conference…with games…this was Cannabal….

they did these amazing mime things

L to R: Forrest, Daniel, Karine, Anna, Lili, Carina, Messinho, Diego

some of the amazing people helping in the kitchen. still smiling.

This was my life. that pot? was beans. enough said.

Ricardo, Kattia, and Rebekah…i think babies are taking over the world. i don’t have a picture of Christopher yet.

i just really like this picture. in action. Anna will probably not appriciate it though.

fun

This was all the girls from the conference. it was good.

the group. that is alot of people. and alot of dishes.

July 24

I sat on my bed at 3:30am after seeing the group of
American’s off. Their flight left at 6:30am. What are those plane people
thinking? They remind me of the bat that flies around my room at 4:00am every
morning. His name is Fred. His fate is better than the lizard that the boys
caught in their room last week. His name was Lucius (sp?) and he got fed to the
cat…after various other mishaps.

It has been a couple weeks of fun, laughter, pain, work,
smiles, dishes, conversations, and more dishes. They needed someone to
coordinate the dish duty, so that was me. The first week was the medical
clinic, which moved into the planning and preparation time…a deep breathe
before the youth conference, English camp, and basketball clinic. And dishes.

You know what? saying “I trust you†is saying that I’d
rather be made the fool than play the guessing game of worry.

We had an amazing time of worship one night. It was a total
prep time for us to come together as Christians…as family…and confess, worship,
and feel how beautiful God is. You can’t really explain times like those.
Feeling God. Feeling clean. Desiring God. Wishing everyone you loved could be a
part of it…and feeling your love purified for God and it turn to everyone else
in your life. All the questions and negativity and worries washing away in a
flow of submission.

It was sorta weird being in charge of some stuff. Like
helping run the games instead of playing in them. It made me feel like an
adult. And I am not sure I enjoyed that. but I did like being able to help
everyone. And being able to translate.

The preparation for the youth conference was amazing. The
kids got together in groups and put together presentations on different
subjects such as finding your purpose and homosexuality. On Sunday it was all
about purity. One of the ladies of the group shared about her life. I felt like
she was telling the story of how my life could be. She shared about how she saw
her plans and how people fit into her plans and how her plans could serve God
and then she made them all fit. And God allowed it. He didn’t stop her.
Sometimes the power of human choice scares me. because I know God would let me
do the wrong thing…and make choices that I would spend a lifetime paying for.
Often my biggest prayers are for God to physically stop me from doing the wrong
thing. Because it is easier to just ask God to take responsibility for my sin,
huh?

The girls class was from the book “Captivating.†They had a
skit that started with a girl slapping this guy across the face. Hard. We saw
the finger marks on his face. It was talking about how we to that to God. Each
time I complain or worry or seek fulfillment or rest in other things…I am
looking God in the face and saying “You are not enough.†What kind of love is
this?

I became known as the Nazi of the kitchen. Poor people. I
had to ushur them into the kitchen and then I would bring in pile after pile of
plates to wash…we did have some good times singing though.

It was an amazing group. Tele had said before that my big
group—from ’99, was the easiest, most well behaved group. This group had us
beat by a mile. They put everything into what they had, got along, got to know
people, and worked their rear ends off.

Besides two people going to the hospital for falling off the
roof while playing “Mission Impossible†and one guy getting stitches from falling
while painting, everyone stayed pretty healthy too.

Christopher, Tele and Heather’s son, decided to join the
group on Sunday, July 16^th. I am not a baby person, but I am
confident that he’s a special one.

English camp was amazing as always. I was the translator for
the beginning adults, but it was amazing how far we could go in conversational
English after building on the first day’s vocabulary.

But I think my favorite was the basketball clinic. It was
rather my first time “out.†The whole semester I’ve been busy teaching English,
but the whole time has been set in a Christian setting, or at least an
atmosphere I can control. I was the welcoming committee at the basketball
clinic, as well as one of the only people around who spoke Portuguese. The facilities
we used were in a rougher part of town, and we went at night (after a long day
of teaching English and dishes). It was a rather tough crowd. Normally the
basketball clinic is geared for kids, but there were only a handful of kids,
and even fewer girls who would actually try to play basketball. There were a
lot of teenage guys and men there, most of which just wanted to see what the
heck these Americans were doing. It was the first opportunity for me…speaking
good enough Portuguese…to really reach out and talk with people. People who
weren’t so…polite. Who asked me what F*** meant and what kind of beer is
popular in the US.
They wanted to know why these people were so happy and why they didn’t want
money and what the catch was. Brasilians sure are curious. I’m glad. I think
American’s miss out on a lot of things because so often we are simply to busy
to be curious about things around us. Quite a few people were saved from that
ministry. I invited tons of people to church…and even if only one came…it was
one.

And as in all cases of doing a lot of work and having a lot
going on, “iron sharpens iron.†I’d been going and going, pushing to get
everything done and make everyone happy…and finding that is not always possible
and there is always something else I could have done or someone else who was
not satisfied. But suddenly, for a moment, it stops. I am not needed. And I
wonder if there is any purpose to me at all. If I’d only become what I did and
without it—who was I? What did I want? In the absence of people there is a
sense of emptiness—a wild urge to run somewhere and fill it up with
something—anything. So I sat still. And I wondered how long I would have to
wait. To wait until I felt peace with stillness. Peace with myself. How long
until I could understand this deep sadness, with no cause to be sad. I don’t
know what I want the silence to speak to me. Perhaps the answers to the
questions I don’t know how to ask. Of that I am afraid to give voice to.

I need to work on the whole flexibility stuff in switching
from working to resting. I seem to manage to only do one or the other well. On
Saturday we got a chance to switch to the resting part, enjoying some time at
the beach. I sat on the beach, listening to the waves, covered with the salty
water, the wind brushing sand on my face and the sun drying me out. I peeked my
eyes open to face the sun and saw the guy selling kites. It has been a dream of
mine to fly a kite on the beach. I dunno why. But this day I looked and thought
that today had been so great…why not save that dream for another day. That and
the fact I’d spent all my money on touristy gifts. So I am counting on another
beach trip.

I had some great conversations with so many different
people. I love talking about Brasil and the culture and the people. One of the
girls asked me what I did when faced with so much poverty and problems and
issues involved with serving in Brasil. And I realized that one of the most
powerful lessons I’d learned all semester was a completely different answer. I
think I’ve had more times of questions and falling on my knees broken before
God asking “why?†this semester than I have any other time in my life. And when
I look back on most of those questions, I have no answers to them yet. Maybe I
never will. But what happens is best expressed in “Sacred Romance:â€

“God is wild. How can you trust a Lover who is so wild?
Answer: you could love Him if you knew His heart was goodâ€

Sometimes it really looks like God is the bad guy. And what
bothers me the most is that He does not come and stick up for Himself. He
doesn’t zap anyone with lightening. But I wave my fist to heaven and dissolve
into exhaustion after fighting and feel His heart. And know that He is good.
Somehow I know that more than reality itself. More than the questions, the
problems, or even myself. His heart is good. And that is how you continue on.

*

Where do my emotions end

And the essence of me begins

When do I fight

And when do I lay my armor down

When do I surrender all

And when do I take my cross and follow

When do I give up

And when do I shoulder my responsibility

I want to be the one

That proves everyone wrong

That sees the miracles happen

Because I believed

But sometimes I wonder

If all I was supposed to do

Was let go

Guess what i did this morning? spent an hour waiting in line at the post office. i think i have figured out, and truly empathized with people who go crazy and suddenly draw out and gun and start yelling obscenities. i was on the verge. then, after an hour–with about 20 people who cut the line and the only reason why the line got shorter because people left to go eat lunch–they tell me i need my passport before i can pick up my package. what? normally the people from the Alcance pick it up for me…and they never need my ID. it was a bad day. then i missed my ride and by now it is almost the end of the world. and i am hungry. i sat down and cried. not really about the post office, but about life and frustration and how it seems i can’t do the simplest thing. well. Gilson comes and asks me what is wrong, took me in the combie where i waited five minutes while he went into the post office and comes out with my package. i shall not ask questions, i am just grateful.

ironic.

So thank you Uncle Loren and Aunt Carol! The package and candy were enjoyed by all.

Other people have been having a productive day–Ricardo and Kattia had their first daughter this morning–Rebekah. Both mother and daughter are doing good. i think it was rather responsible of Rebekah to wait until after the Medical Clinic to be born–but before English Camp.

Advice for the day: always use the restroom before you leave the house. bathrooms are not promised outside familiar premises.

Some of the kids in Laoga De Itaenga. we had over 30 kids show up for the Bible lesson. wow.

Paudalho…isn’t it beautiful? We went with some friends and sat down with a guitar, singing in English and Portuguese…

They called me the “white ghost” because i kept turning up so white in the pictures. bleh. This is Maneol, Marcello, Me, Joe, and Anna. hey, at least i have white teeth. you should ask Anna about the band-aid. funny stuff.

 

Happy 4^th of July. It isn’t independence day here until September 7^th. But it is still a nice day. The medical clinic group is here. Right now they are gone to Laoga De Itaenga, serving the people there. It’s a really great group. I met Chuck, the doctor, last year. Really great man of God. His son, Peter, is here, as well as Lacey, Daria, Mallory, Stephanie, and Hannah. Edna, who works in the office at World Renewal, is a lot of fun and has a smile that makes me feel special.

 

So this is my vacation week. Doing alittle here and there. My favorite part so far was doing dishes with Ricardo in the kitchen singing “This little light of mine.” We were in the grove. Kattia (Ricardo’s wife) enjoyed it, and Rebekah (who is due today) was kicking in time.

 

Sunday was really special. I went to church with a lot of ME. worries, thoughts, wonderings, rantings…it all jumbled into confusion. Somewhere in the day it all just stopped and I realized it was about God. That makes everything so simple. I felt so empty and humbled. It is a good place to be, but it sure does feel crummy and uncomfortable…and uncontrollable. Because I understood so clearly (as so often we cover up the truth and run—get busy—to hide from it) that I couldn’t do anything on my own. And that was a really scary place to be when I remembered that I was in charge of giving devotions all week and teaching in Laoga De Itaenga that afternoon. It wasn’t easy. I wasn’t eloquent and no one was moved to tears. I spent most of the time praying “God, I don’t know what the heck to say! Because any words from me are useless…it must be from You.”

 

There is so much that I want to do, that I want to accomplish…so much more that I want to be. Sometimes I can feel myself dragging others down or being a discouragement—when all I really want to do is be an amazing reflection of Christ. To refresh and encourage. I look down at my hands and wonder why my desire isn’t strong enough to change what I do.

 

“Don’t be afraid of embracing the disappointment you feel, old or new. Don’t be scared of the unreasonable joy either. They’re the highway markers home.” –“Sacred Romance”

 

“But we who would be born again indeed, must wake our souls unnumbered times a day.” George MacDonald

 

“This is repentance: It is letting our heart tell us where we are in our own story so that Jesus can minister to us out of the Story of His love for us.”

 

“Dullness, not doubt, is the strongest enemy of faith, just as indifference, not hate, is the strongest enemy of love” –Peter Kreeft

 

Opps. I messed up again. I came back to the Alcance late the other night…and Tele and Heather did not know there was another bus. They had visions of Anna and I hitchhiking down the road in the dark and decided to drive around looking for us. I felt horrible that I should be adding to their list of worries. They were not mad, and I got lots of hugs and reminded that “it was only because we love you.” It meant a lot to me as my friend put it, “Wow Rachel, you are IN. you are part of the family. That is amazing how you are not worrying them because of the ministry, but as a daughter.” I feel unworthy of that blessing. It is true…when I return next year it isn’t about that I am a missionary going to Brasil, but I have a family and am coming home.

 

“One man scribbled in the sand. One man carved in the rock. Another man gazed at the stars. The next day the tide came in, and the rock was broken. Only what was written in the stars will last.”  –Heather

I want you to love me
enough
to let me fall
to let me hurt
to let me choose my own course
and trust
that even if it looks bad
you believe in my heart
enough
to know that it will
be all right
in the end

love that tries to save me
is too restrictive
love that tries to convince me
i am wrong
is killing my heart

let me go
let me do what i must
let it look like
the world is falling apart
instead of always trying
to put back
the pieces

The problem with having vacation is that you are not quite
sure what to do with yourself, and so you normally do nothing. Bleh. Heather
officially gave me this next week off, but my body still wakes up before 6am
and I keep wandering around with the feeling that I am supposed to do
something, I am just not sure what.

There is a bat living in our light fixture. or somewhere in
the ceiling. He comes and flies circles around the room until I get nervous and
then he tucked himself into the crack in the light thingy. I was overtired and
the whole thing amused me way too much. Ivana came in the room to find me
jumping on the bed, pointing to the light, saying “Esta la! Esta la!” and
flapping my arms because I couldn’t remember how to say “Bat” in Portugese.
Ivana thought for sure I had just seen the devil incarnated or something. 

School is over. We had more play practices and
decorating everything…I made the “door” outfit for Neto because he is my
favorite and if he had to be a door, I wanted him to look like a very good
door. And looking back, the whole program was worthwhile enough to make all
that work and practicing and jumping up and down worth it. To see all the kids
lined up singing “This little light of mine” with the climax of “hide it under
a bushel-NO! I’m gonna let it shine” (the “no” was the best part, because they
got to yell) was amazing. And all the kids got their lines right…even if the
bee stung Goldilocks with his arm instead of the stinger and Goldilocks didn’t
like the porrage (we decided to use real porrage at the last minute) and the
door kept swinging his arms and the flower costume leaked all over the girls…it
was perfect. What an incredible semester. Totally a God thing.

whoa. Jeff and Lindsay have pictures on their site too…check it out at www.xanga.com/citizenjeffandcitizenlindsay and TADA…they are so wonderful and have put together a Brasil ministry weblog at jlbrasil.blogspot.com  PLEASE check it out. very nice. they know all the computer stuff. and…just as a comment…are amazing wonderful people. i wouldn’t choose to work with anyone else. anywhere. yep.

The rehersal. goodness they look cute. but we know better…

And then the real thing. uniforms. they are nice.

The flowers, bee, and 3 bears

check out the door. on the right. and don’t say it does not look like a door. it does. and he remembered all his lines… “Come in, the door is open!”

the last song…”this little light of mine” wow.