pictures don’t really show the whole idea…

those doggon white birds

the photogenic dog. funny the things you talk about when you see stuff and you don’t know what to do about it…

Hey…unspoken prayer request, k? This is one of those weekends where lots of things are born and fought and won and lost…

We have a character quality every week at school. This week is Truthfulness. I was rather excited to monopolize on this. I don’t know when it started, but somehow i became the handwashing monitor. i go around before meals asking if everyone washed their hands. hey-somebody’s gotta do it. Then we had problems using soap. So to prove they’d washed their hands, they would put their still wet hands up to my nose, often at random periods throughout the day, waiting for my praise of “good! you washed your hands!” This made me laugh, but i didn’t mind that much. We have nice soap here.

Then i became the toothbrushing monitor. with some grumbling. but even this was tolerable until they decided i needed to check their breath, and would randomly come up and breathe on me. i drew the line when Guilheme let out a big burp an inch from my face. So now when they inhale and get ready to “show me” they brushed their teeth, i  back away quickly and say “Are you showing the character quality for this week?” yep, pretty corny, but very successful.

Part of being here is to connect you with Brasil. Here are some prayer requests that your brothers and sisters from Brasil have asked that i ask you to join us in prayer for (and some that i added myself):

*Note: I have them listed by church with the names of the leaders there (that i know of). Please excuse misspelled names.

1. Carpina (Pastor Josemar, Carlao, Mana and ZeCarlos, Silvio)
* Ana Paula: an 11 year old girl who has been involved in the church for some time now. She just found out that she has some eye problem that will probably lead to blindness. Please pray for resources to get her eyes checked out and proper treatment–hopefully to prevent blindness.
* Mana, ZeCarlos and their sons, Lucas and Jonatus are living at the Alcance for the time being. Please pray for wisdom on what to do about housing.
* To finish the construction at the church. Wow…they have been working on this building since i first came in 1999! Since Carpina was the first church, they began putting all their resources into planting other churches…but it sure would be nice to finish.

2. Guadalajara (Carlos, Author, Jaciara)
* They are also working on finishing the building there. They have been creatively raising money to put a floor in, and are now working on the walls.
* For the spiritual growth of the members, especially the small groups (called N.A.which stands for something but i cannot remember)
* For the leadership. This is true for all the churches…those in leadership are working overboard and are often tired and low on resources. For their encouragement, hope, and vision. Author (who may later be serving in Cajuiero Claro) and Carlos (two younger seminary students) are taking Ricardo’s place. Big shoes to fill.

3. Paudalho (Junior, Paulo, Tony, Maninho, Joelson, Aninha)
* God has totally blessed with being able to finish the building!
* I feel like this is my church. The fellowship is amazing and a blessing. I am so grateful to be a part of them! Please pray for God’s continued blessings.
* Steve told me about a Walk for Living Stones going on in the US October 6. They are working on raising the money for this program for needy children. If enough is raised, one of the elders, Tony, can then begin a program in Cha De Alegria, another church plant/outreach.

4. Tracunaem (Anselmo and family, Pastor Augustino)
* They have been meeting in a small upper room and a school for a long time and are ready to start building a place of their own. This is one of those money needs.
* For the leadership and some changes that are happening next year.
* They just had a great missionary conference with Pastor Assuario

5. Acacias (Tele and family, Nice and ZeCarlos, Orlando, Gilson, Esras)
* This is the church that is at the Alcance and the newest church plant. I wake up and go downstairs to be a part of it. Many new people have been coming, as well as alot of contacts we have made through the school.
* I am a part of the worship team. Please pray for our organization and preparation

6. Amexias (Pastor Assuario and family)
* Building the church. For the resources and for the group that is coming–about 50 people from a church in Rio–in January to help build it!
* Seven people are getting baptized soon–including Tiago and Lorena, Pastor Assuario’s kids.
* For the four people who are interested and being evangelized
* For Tiago and Lorena’s schooling–it is difficult to go back and forth and handle all the traveling involved
* For financial support, which is still needed
* Pastor Assuario is hoping and planning to go back to South Africa as soon as possible. He is training a leader in his place–Gustavo, who is planning to move, with his family, to Amexias (a small community–6,000 people–pretty much out in the middle of nowhere) and serve there next year.

7. Lagoa De Iteanga (Ricardo, Kattia and Rebekah, Ivana)
*Ricardo is looking for a house there. To really serve in a place, you have to live there. It just doesn’t work any other way. They went house hunting, but have not found anything just right yet.
* For the ranch payments and other things needed–financial pressures as the dollar is less value and support is also less.
* Land to build a church there. Right now they are meeting in a small house.
* Ivana asks for prayer for wisdom in working with the children there, as well as the character curriculum she is creating and teaching in many different places.

8. Timbauba (George and family, Marcio and family)
* Praise God as they just had a drug and alcohol awareness program, speaking with 6,000 students in Timbauba, leading to 20 visitors and 4 young people coming to Christ.

9. The school and other things
* Our ordered curriculum has yet to arrive in full. We are rather taking each day as it comes. When the shipment finally went through, apparently now the federal police are on strike, so everything is on hold regarding…just about everything.
* More teachers. Early November David and i leave, creating a really large gap. Not only do we not know who to hire in our places, but we do not know if we will have the resources to hire. This isn’t a matter of making do…it is more of WE HAVE NO IDEA.
* Jeff and Lindsay’s visas. Lindsay coming would be a huge help in the teacher problem. They have applied and are now simply waiting to find out. and waiting. perhaps the police strike is messing with that too.
* Tele’s visa. He has to go do an interview to get a visa to go to the US in November. Unfortunately, there have been no dates available yet. Once there is, hopefully there are no other problems that arise.
* My visa. Basically, i am trying to get enrolled in a college here and then apply for my student visa. I won’t know if all that will happen until mid-December or later. Otherwise, I will be doing the six month thing again, which leaves gaps everywhere.
* The house. Gosh the Moraes’ house is SOMETHING ELSE. lovely and amazing. They are getting the rooms painted and all those final things that seem to keep coming up. Please pray for a time to move and get things organized around everything else going on here.
* Heather and Christopher are in England, visiting her parents until October 16. We miss them! Please pray for their safety.
* Karine, as she teaches and goes to college, and plans her travels for next year
* David, as he prepares to go to the US for (hopefully) six months, then return and possibly go to Word of Life Hungry
* Alysssa, who is super excited about going to the US for three weeks, along with her cousin, Mariana (one of my students at the school)
* Unity and communication. Please pray for the general ministry here, and all these different areas as they grow and change. That everyone would work together and be able to serve in the different areas as the different parts of the body of Christ.

Went to the lixao (the dump) today. I have been wanting to for some time now. i guess i sorta thought if i went there something would fall into place. something that was missing. it didn’t really happen like that. This trip back to Brasil i really wanted to go and look for opportunities. just that. opportunities. i figured maybe if i went, i would find my opportunity. not really. i feel stuck. you can’t live your life ignoring things like the lixao. So then you go and are like “now what?” I mean…i don’t really have any skills to help them with. i could go teach them a song or cut their hair, i guess. And really, the only thing that would really impact them would be cultivating real relationships. And i don’t have the transportation or the time to do that. to really really make an impact, i would need to live there, eat there, work there…then maybe.

so there are gazillions of needs out there, and only one me. Which one has my name on it? i am not really sure yet.

So places like the lixao. Piles and piles of trash, with a community down the road of people who work at the dump, sorting trash and selling what can be sold. for some reason, all i could keep saying was how the birds were supposed to be black. you know those pretty white birds you see on National Geographic that hang out with water buffalo? yep. Those birds were everywhere at the lixao. no crows or buzzards. The trash went on for awhile, but the backdrop was gorgeous hills. Like paradise with a big gauge. The smoke covered up the stench, and the flies covered up everything else. Kel brought some food, because he is good and remembers things like that, and we saw these three kids run and hide as we came. The oldest girl smiled at me, but as soon as i said hello, her brother Lucas ran away and said i was weird (my accent…) I  tried to make a little conversation and we soon traded names…the little girl  was Danielle. I wonder how often they play in the dump. I wonder if they ever go to school. We gave them the food and they ran off to give it to their mother.

I felt like a tourist. Like a tourist that could visit whenever i wanted, but would never be a part of it. Tolerated, but  never accepted. But i wasn’t visiting an exhibit, i was visiting lives. so now i have been there. now i know. now what?

I tried
to make snickerdoodles. it doesn`t really work right with raw brown
sugar. tastes a little gritty. still, i put them on a little silver
platter and went around to everyone here for seminary tonight, giving
out American cookies. I can`t even remember everything i put in
them…i just started adding spices.

“i fell out of a tree today”
“and?”
“and it didn`t hurt at much as i thought it would.”

I have never broken a bone in my body. this is the first time i feel ashamed to say that.

Reading “The Barbarian Way.”
The beginning wasn`t so hot, but i hit this amazing part
in the middle…

“We understand that whoever walks in front
walks closest to death, but even this knowledge does not slow us
down…somehow Christianity has become a nonmystical religion. It is
about reasonable faith. if we believe the right things, we are
orthodox. We have become believers rather than experiences. To know God
in the Scriptures always went beyond information to intimacy…the
entire focus of our faith has been the elimination of sin, which is
important but inadequate, rather than unleashing of a unique, original,
extraordinary, wonderfully untamed faith.”

“People who are fully alive look out of their minds to those who simply exist.”

“Sometimes it is easier to believe in a love you can touch rather than a love that is real.”

“When
we fear God and God only, we are no longer bound by all of the other
fears that would hold us captive. The fear of death, failure,
rejection, insignificance–all the fears that know us by name and haunt
us in the dark of the night become powerless when we know the fear of
the Lord. And if this is not enough, we discover that perfect love
casts out all fear. Not even God will hold us or control us by fear.
When we fear Him, we in essence begin to live a life where we are
fearless.”

“How many stories do we need of children who grow up in church being forced to act like Christians rather than being won to the heart of God? The civilized Christian does what is right out of fear; the barbarian does what is right out of love. The Christian civilization is held together by rules and rituals; the barbarian revolt is fueled by the passio of God and guided by the mission of God. If our children are going to walk away from Christ, we need to raise them in such a way that they understand that to walk away from Jesus is to walk away from a life of faith, risk, and adventure and choose a life that is boring, mundane, and ordinary.”

oh yeah, and then he let his son jump off the roof. pretty sweet. he was like “well, are you going to do it sometime anyways? i’d rather you do it when i am right here to catch you…”

Please pray for Eukias. I don’t know if things are not good in his life or if he just decided to shut down part of his life…Just pray for God to reveal that He is already there with him.

When we say minimum wage, we normally mean the bottom rung that you can`t go under. the place you start and quickly go higher–right? not here. Minimum wage just went from 350$R to 380$R. And basically, if you work in Brasil, you get minimum wage. In US money that is $190US–for a month. A woman i know, manager of one of the nicest clothing stores in the city, makes $400US a month. And she is considered well off. I almost made twice that, working 30hour weeks. Minimum wage is what sugar cane workers make. working six days a week, 12 a day shifts, or more.

i take so much for granted.

I am still in process about my student visa. farther along than before, and far enough to know i won`t know anything until the end of the year. Apparently, i need to do this and that here to get some papers so i can go back to the US and do this and that there…they seem to hire people to do one job, and then only that person can do that job. everyone else points you toward that person, but you have to go through five more to get to them, and then you find out they took an extended vacation the day before. Welcome to Brasil baby.

I waved my hand for them to stop even before I knew what I was
doing. In Brasil, you have a series of transportation. The very well off will
have a truck or SUV, or really nice car. The well off have a car. The majority
do not. We then have our caste system—the bus, the combe, and then the jeep. I
had to earn the privilege of being responsible enough to use the bus system,
which I have pretty well down, considering there is one main road, and you
stand on the side headed the direction you want to go. A newer addition to my
collection has been combies. I am convinced that it would be the cure for
American individualism. Combies stuff people into a general amizade

, and get
you out of your bubble. No way to get around accidentally meeting someone`s
eye. Jeeps are stuffed to the brim in layers, something most combies don`t even
do, so when I flagged one down, Karine looked at me in surprise.

For some reason, it was almost empty today. I asked to ride
in the back with the bumps that I thought would toss me out the back, which was
not enclosed. It was a sweet ride with the wind. Must be something in the
water. On the way back, I wanted to ride a moto, but it was way out of our
price range. Even a jeep was out of our price range, as I miscalculated the
cost. So we walked. A good couple of kilometers. All that for the best juice
and ice cream in the world. Acerolandia.

Yikes Lindsay…i don’t know if it counts or not, because it was dead, but there was a monkey right outside the Alcance.

Kaio kept saying that God was the answer. Now i know He is, but not for every answer in your workbook. There was a fill in the blank about the Scripture passage, and he was determind that it must be God. When said it wasn’t, he started putting Jesus instead. Before he got to the Holy Spirit, we discussed the other characters in the passage. It reminded me of that story where the teacher is teaching Sunday school and asks “What eats nuts and lives in trees?” The kid raised his hand and said “It sure sounds like a squirrel, but i am going to go with GOD.”

Pray for VISAs.

* Jeff and Lindsays work visa
* Tele’s visa (to come to the US in November)
* My student visa. I am going to talk with a University tomorrow about enrolling next year. If they will let me (without taking this super huge test all in PORTUGUESE), then it should be no problem getting the visa. Not only that, but it is a one year course in Early Childhood Education, so i will basically finish my Bachelors, and then…possibly look into post-grad work…majoring in English, obviously. Anything for a visa.

So 95% says i will be home for the holidays…November, actually. Seven weeks. That threw me off. Then surprised me that it threw me off…i hadn’t realized i’d been so ready to stay. Then i started talking to David and Alyssa about Cool Ranch Doritos and that amazing Japanese place where they throw shrimp around and hot chocolate with marshmallows and Thanksgiving and Christmas and sledding and…dang, i just have it made whatever happens to me.

It is also leaving a major HOLE in November. Heather and the baby went to England Sunday, and it feels pretty empty without them. They come back a week or two before we leave…we being (Lord willing) David, Alyssa, Tele, Mariana (Tele’s niece) and i. Bascially, the whole English speaking part of the school…leaving Heather and Karine doing six jobs instead of two. Right before a Christmas program too.

yep, we are already learning Christmas songs. Would you beleive they have sicko versions of Jingle Bells here too? it is universal.

Gabriel (5th grade) wrote this

I vampire is in my rase (house). (but) Gabriel is strong. my pool very big (why he added a pool into that sentence we shall never know). vampire got Kaio and Gabriel. Gabriel go help Kaio, Gabriel sav Kaio. Kaio and Gabriel go favella (to a ghetto), is beautifu, Kaio and Gabriel sav Rachel.

the whole save the world thing starts young, i guess.

Thursday i had an amazing English class…we discussed Matthew 25 and the stories Jesus told. My students (this is my adult class) had amazing insights…and they shared them in English. i was very proud of them.

Friday was Independence day for Brasil. I really wanted my camera. but i decided since i didn’t have it, i needed to write like a picture for you to enjoy just a little but of it:

A full belly makes you lazy. so i ate less and got on a combie for Paudalho, while everyone else was still drowzy from the churrasco. Celebrations reveal culture. culture that only shakes your hand when you are not listening. the drum beats reached my ears outside the town as i paid the driver. i walked past the houses that i wanted to stop and look inside. The steep hill with sun blazing across each cobblestone until it reached my worn black flip-flops. the palm trees shook their praise. i crosssed the bridge with its brass buttons and rusted crossbars. moto’s passed me with a honk. Everyone is out in the rua today. I have no plan, only to enjoy and tantalize my senses. the street that follows the river is lined with people. i pick out a familiar face–i don’t remember his name, but he was at church last week and so we are on speaking terms. but i cannot stay still. each person is a study, and there are so many more to see. the curls and powdered faces dressed to impress. Each school is out representing, with outfits that resemble carnival with their color and fringe and sparkle. The trumpets join the drums and cadences mix as i walk forward to the next school waiting to march. the little children are my favorite, the girls with gold slippers, looking up from their tall rectangular hats with big eyes…eyes of wonder and dlight, others of tears and exhaustion. it is a long walk, with long sleved marching band outfits.

I figure that in a small city i should run into many people i know, but i run into memories first. walking past places is almost reliving them. the past is not so far away as to forget. And i shut my eyes angrily after i find them seeking certain faces from the crowd. i stop every few feet to see everything around me. the laughs and waves to friends. the determind trumpet player. the drummer with the gold earing and jaw firmly set before him. Was everyone watching him because he was so confident, or was he so confident because everyone was watching him? They marched and played for hours. his set gaze behind sunglasses never wavered.

someone stole the smell of a friend as they passed me. past the park. past the rain refuge where i learned of rainbows. past the calda de cana and thirst quencher. i finger the real (.50$ US) in my pocket and regret only having money for a ticket back. the corner of the grand, hollow Catholic church leads to the pastel place and Danny. He is there with his arm sluggishly over his girlfriend’s shoulder. i wonder if it is heavy. they ask me the popular question of if i am alone and i nod happily at their dismay and make my excuses of moving on. The people are thicker now. Do they come out of the cracks to forget there is a tomorrow? Put on your best clothes and have a good time because how is the day and the day is now. Brasilians do this so well. i still plan at least a couple days ahead. i save up my free time and carefully snack on it before meals. but i am learning. how to be extravagant. How to be brilliant and not worry about fainting from exhaustion. learning about living in a time where there are no watches or days of the week…simply being there. accomplishing nothing but conversation and meals and perhaps a game of futebol.

i want to keep walking, but the people coming towards me want it more. i soon find out that it is the biggest and the rudest who win in this game, the big mean man behind me quickly picking up speed, bowling people over in strikes. i fall in behind him, enjoying a second of space created by his wake. But kindness separates us as i stop for an elderly lady. i am pushed around for it and wrap my arms tightly around my chest thinkng “guard your carnal treasure!” Precillia makes space for me and intruduces several cousins and aunts to me. the end of the parade is soon, but i want to see it for myself. i hit another thick spot of people and the guy behind me lights a cigarette that goes up my nose and down the back of my throat. his hand firmly presses my back and i pray he doesn’t burn me. i look down to the cowboy books of a little boy sitting on the curb. his brim hides his face and i am pushed on. the parade ends. the sun is in its golden warm setting of 5:00pm, giving another 45 minutes of light.

i am pushed into an even tighter crowd, the loud girl behind me continually bumping her ice cold beer into my arm. the condensation leaves a mark on my shirt. i feel one with the crowd. one with Brasil. alive in the drums and shaking fringe. i turn off the main road towards the front of the city where i will catch my ride. the venders line the street and i wonder if i could mooch some money for a pastry, fresh fried french fries, or a churro. Another beat of music calls me to a circle of white–Capoeira. I stand on the bench with the gazing little boys so i can see the smooth fluidity. Always asking to fight, always bowing to pass. no angle is surprising or difficult, even balancing on your head. The girl with the arm bracelet calls her partner in, the backs away in deference. i watch to see if someone is keeping score, but only see those keeping rhythm. it is dance, it is fighting, it is beauty. Pipoca doce must be passed over as i hand my worn, lonely real to the bus driver and wish i was riding the moto instead. hop on and kick the pedal back.

I ate crabs authentically for the first time yesterday at the beach. at first i couldn’t handle removing joints and biting open the legs, but hunger drove me to it. I didn’t manage to eat the head, it was just too graphic–but made up for my wussy-ness by winning a push-up contest. well, sorta winning.

people asking me how I am is normally my cue to ask them how
they are. But 3/4s of the time I get so glad that they asked that I start one
of my stories of me and then never have time to even get to them.

most problems are really rather simple, it just takes us
getting to the end of our rope to be honest with ourselves and others and
realize what we need to do.

I am learning about love. The kind of love that I know seems
to make me choose one and reject the other. Like I am a fairy that can only hold
one emotion at a time. I choose to love one person and then anyone who hurts
them I hate. Sounds natural. But that isn’t how it works. I am supposed to love
that person too. It is easy to love the rapped woman, but what about loving the
rapist? I am called to love. To love both. My love does not go that far. To
love the unborn baby I hate the abortionist. To love my country and freedom, I
hate Iraq
and terrorists. To love the ghetto I hate suburbia. Maybe hate is too strong a
word…dispise, look down upon, be apathetic towards…but whatever it is, it isn’t
love. And if I am not loving everyone, am I really loving anyone?

Ok…so Stardust is right up there with Princess Bride, and gets brownie points since the main character shares names with Karianne’s little darling. Quotes:

“But never mind how he became a boy, this story is about how
Tristan became a man, which is something of much larger consequence.”

“A philosopher once asked ‘are we human because we look at
the stars, or do we look at the stars because we are human?” but the bigger
question is ‘are the stars watching us?”

“nothing says romance like a kidnapped, injured woman”

“there are shop boys and there are boys who happen to work
in a shop for the time being. Trust me Tristan, you are not a shop boy.”

What is love? How do I love? How does someone feel love?
I’ve sat in church long enough to where I was sure there were villages waiting
for me…that needed me or would die and wither away…on the way to Timbauba the
bus stops at one such villiage—Alianca. There is a catholic church and I think
an assembly church. in the interior of Brasil there is city after city like
that. towns of 6,000 people where maybe 20 or so profess to know Jesus. Or
less. They must feel so alone. So I sat in Alianca, inside the bus, and looked
at this town. They looked happy enough. They sure didn’t look in need. They
looked like they would lead pretty normal lives. They would cry some days and
laugh others. I realized they didn’t need me. they didn’t need my message or my
sympathy. What did they need? Jesus, of course, those words have been planted
in my head since Kindergarten. Why? So they won’t go to hell. Yes, but…there
has to be more…something that matters for this life. The abyss of hell isn’t
staring them in the face, and I don’t want to guilt them into a decision so
they can have fire insurance. Oh yes…satisfaction, fulfillment, answers that
only come through Christ. Love. Of all the junk in my head that I am sorting
out…this is one answer I know I believe. They don’t need me, they need Jesus,
and they would never see that unless they felt it, and they can only feel it
through love. They don’t need me to preach—they need me to love. So now I know
what they need. And what I need to give. But how do I love? How does one love
so that someone else can feel it?

**

The man had a white beard. I saw it because I saw him stand
up to get on the combie. Once he got closer I turned away. Combies are old vw
buses, cheap transportation around town. They stuff us in to get their gas
worth and days wages out of the trip. He came in the combie and moved to the
back. right next to me. He stank more than anyone (ok, there was a drunk on a different bus once,
but…) and my whole concentration was turned to breathing through my mouth. I
asked Karine to open the window, just as we passed an animal food factory.
Surrounded by horrid smell, I felt trapped. I felt sick. I didn’t look at the
man, squished next to him in the back. We got to our stop and I stepped over
him carefully. I looked down at his toes. He had horribly ugly toes. I took a
big breath of fresh air and felt calm again. I don’t know how to love. I didn’t even look at him
once.

Shout out to my amazing parents, who love me and hold their hands over my wounds. they would hold me, if i were in the same country. I love you.

“It makes you feel that as a parent the most important thing
you can do is love your kids, hold them, and tell them you love them because,
until we get to heaven, all we can do is hold our palms over the wounds.” –Don
Miller