This is Precilla. The Gideons in Brasil donated coloring books to the Living Stones program. They are really nice. unfortunately, there were not enough markers to go around, so they could only outline the picture with marker and then fill it in with crayons.

This is Concessao. Her family ran out of food last Friday and they were living off of fruit trees near their house.

Lindsay and Emily came with me and we taught the kids Chutes and Ladders and Candyland…numbers and colors in English.

This is Leonardo, Emily, Polyanna, and Neto. These three kids live with their four other brothers and sisters in a room half the size of my living room. Their fence door was a bed post. Their mother was kind, and made my day when she told me she thought i was Brasilian.

I didn’t learn this baby’s name, but he lives with 11 other people in a house smaller than my living room. There is one wall part way dividing the living area from the eating area, and no bathroom, as there is no running water or electricity.

This lady, 60something…around the age–or past it, that we would think of retiring…right now she is begging and doing her best to provide for this house of 12. Most of her grown children have decided to live at home, without jobs, and have kids who also need to be provided for. She was telling us how buying deoterant was a struggle because she had so many to buy for, and when the bill came, it meant there was no money to buy milk for the babies. i thought about what i want to be doing when i am her age. i thought about my retirement plan (nonexistent at the moment) and and and…the flies buzzed around me while we talked. the open fire at the back door blew smoke in, which partially choked me, but i was grateful for because it covered the smell of half-rotting bedmats and piles of dirty clothes in the corner. the babies played peek-a-boo with me from the corner.

And i have no answers to reconcile it all. i don’t even know where to start.

i got to show my peeps around Paudalho…they were visibly impressed.

we live in trees, but only mango ones. L to R: me, Rebeca, Lindsay, Karine, Aninha, Feliphe, Alyssa, and Emily

we went to the lake near Paudalho and Lindsay brought watermellon and we argued on if there were worms and aligators in the water cuz some of us jumped in with our clothes on.

making pizza, cake, and coke…the three necessary items for a good time

hangin out in my room…my rapt audience as i tried to translate some of Shel Silverstine’s books into Portuguese. the errors were entertaining enough in themselves.

i am gonna miss them. lots. 

So i actually read the whole thing. all 600 pages. My favorite part is the same as in the movie…”I have endured what no one on earth has ever done before–i put to my lips the hands of the man who killed my son.” (When Priam goes to Archilles to get the body of Hector). So did you know the story actually ends where Hector is buried? No sacking the city. no horse. no Archilles getting hit in the heel…just ends rather suddenly. even though after 600 pages it was nice to see it end…and their complement for beautiful women and godesses? they had white arms. so there to all you tan lovers.

on a serious note…

Marcello’s grandmother passed away yesterday. i went to my second funeral this year. the second Brasilian funeral in my life. The two most beautiful, wonderful, godly, sweet, little ladies you could know.

you’d think you’d get used to this whole dying thing. but you don’t. you see it coming–you know it is there, and you tell yourself “it is for the best–they are old and in pain and they are going to a better place anyways.” and the words ring hollow. you want to flick it away like a fly on the wall. because there is still something fundamentally unfair about it. part of you feels stolen away. violated. robbed.

I feel like something is growing in me. sometimes i wonder if it is a lukewarm plague because it is so calm. but really…it is something of…seeing that God is here. before i ask. while i am asking. learning that i don’t need to ask Him to come. but i want to and do anyway. and i think He likes that. He is so close that sometimes to ask Him to hold my hand is irrevelent. I am learning a trust that i do not have to hear “i love you” to know He loves me.

i guess i am just trying to apply what i am learning in friendship to people to my relationship with God.

For a long time my relationship with God was more of a “needy girlfriend/tough guy” thing. at least how i saw it. I did the dos and not the don’ts because i was going to make our relationship work. i was going to make it happen. i read the Bible every morning. went to every church service. If someone said this was how you got closer to God, i put it on my schedule to do. I constantly came before God, tugging on His robe and asking “Is this what you want? please tell me you love me. please tell me i am doing right. please give me the warm fuzzy feeling.” and it was a good time in life. because i went after it. and God was always there. When i asked, He answered.

But then i started asking other questions. and sometimes He didn’t answer. sometimes He said i didn’t need to know. Sometimes He said that He, and He alone, was enough of an answer for me. And i struggled with that. i felt like these questions…the ones that did not fit in my box, were the most important ones. and that it wasn’t fair. i was tired of all the work i had to do to make “being a Christian” feel right.

Then…somewhere along the way, i began to see that God was God no matter what. That He does not need me to stand up for Him. He does not need me to read my Bible and pray and go to church. He does not need me to make this relationship work. It is not my responsibility to make it work. But something inside me wanted to see if this was for real. i wanted to test it. and i put my Bible on the shelf. i hid in my room and did not go to church. i pushed the boundaries and looked at Him with all the rebellion i could muster up and said “I dare you to walk away. to punish me with silence. to get mad and say you do not love me anymore. to give up on me.” Something in me was so scared that He would. and i wanted to make it happen fast to get it over with so i could shut down everything and never be hurt again. but God didn’t leave. He didn’t give me the silent treatment or make me do penance. During those times were some of the sweetest moments…after i had yelled at God, the words of hate rolling around my tongue. and that made me even more scared. because then i loved Him even more and it would hurt even more if He left me someday.

I don’t know how i came to see that that day was never going to come. it wasn’t something i can put my finger on, but it happened. If i do not read my Bible, it is not to feel guilty. He is not going to glare at me. Now i want to read it because i want Him. i am hungry. i pick it up like i open the refrigerator door–not because i am maintaining a relationship. I am not reading until i fill a deadline, i am reading until i am filled up. satisfied. Same thing with church…i go because something has “dinged” in me and said “hey, remember that ‘fellowship with others’ thing? you need that because something is empty in here.”

somewhere, i think i finally understand that He loves me before i ask. not because of what i do, but just because He chose me. It is a no-strings attached deal. i cannot pin Him down. i cannot control Him or make things go my way. Yet he makes these promises to me: “I won’t leave. i won’t change. i love you and always have and always will.” And these promises are bigger than me. They come to me–i didn’t ask for them. It is the ultimate friendship that won’t wake up one morning and not feel like calling me. I don’t worry about His issues or if He will be grumpy or i will say something and have to make it all better. It is the ultimate relationship–i never have to worry about rolling over in bed and finding that He is not there, or that pit stomach feeling when He is struggling or hurting and i cannot help him or do anything to solve it. It is not my responsibility to cheer him up or have an answer.

and some days i wake up and realize it has been a couple days since i have had intimacy…a real conversation with God. But it isn’t guilt that crushes me…i turn over and say “hey stranger…how is it going?” we talk and catch up. and i smile and sigh because i have missed the closeness and i tell myself not to let it happen again because THIS IS THE LIFE. but it does happen again and life becomes like a fog until i wake up and wonder where i was…because i sure wasn’t living. i forget like this a lot. I live in the fog. maybe living is just learning how to remember. that God is here. That He loves me. That He isn’t leaving. That He is mine and i am His and that is a commitment in itself. a commitment bigger than me. a commitment that won’t break even if i do.

so i got the tickets. alittle…ok, ALOT more than i wanted to pay, but…and mostly that is because the dollar is so low now. in 99, it was 3 to 1 (Real to Dollar) in 2004 it was 2 to 1. Now it is 1.7 to 1. on a good day.

I don’t think Brasilian websites have gotten ahang of selling things online yet. When i finally found a ticket that was the right date and the right price (they would have multiple prices listed, and you never knew when it would change half way through filling out the information)…at the last click–it would say “we are sorry, but we are not sure if the ticket is still available. please try again later.” The darn sites WON’T let you buy tickets! so i finally went through American Airlines Brasil site. it worked. too well actually…my internet stalled in the middle of purchasing, so i ended up buying it twice…freaking out…finding a number and calling to cancel one of them…but now that the excitement is over:

April 30-July 15

my goals while i am in the US:
* Renew my passport
* Go to the consulate in Chicago and get my student visa (nope, don’t got it yet…and if they deny it…i can’t return to Brasil until 2009…that thought freaks me out about once a week)
* Go to my cousin’s May wedding–yea Jessica!
* Go camping, biking, swimming, and so on with Johnny boy
* Lotsa stuff with Anna
* Spend time with my parents. Help out around the house.
* Hang out with Erica and friends and family i won’t get to see for a year and a half
* Work with the BIG group of people taking a short term missions trip to Brasil in July
* Talk at churches, talk to people about the ministry, Living stones…all the stuff going on in Brasil
* Visit Karianne and go to Cornerstone (if you volunteer, you get in for half price)
* Catch up on movies, music, and books (LIBRARIES!) that i  don’t have access to in Brasil
* Lotsa shopping to get gifts and supplies for people and ministries in Brasil
* Eat lots of raspberries and mexican food and celary with peanut butter

“I set myself on fire and people come to watch me burn” –John Wesley

…to just talk about problems.
Without thinking about an answer or solution. Without looking on the bright
side. Just talking, bringing it out into the open. Dropping it on the carpet in
a big tangled mess. And maybe tomorrow we will see the mess and sort it into
nice piles. Maybe the next day we will put it into nice boxes or find where the
pieces belong—or throw it in the trash. But right now…it just needs to be spoken.
Where we can see it. And listen.

“WOW. God really did answer those prayers.”
You know…all those prayer you pray…Dreams you have that you
don’t really put into words-but are so REAL in your life. 

And you pray them without even knowing it

And then you have a dry spell
NADA

Just still, humid, FRUSTRATION

And then…

A breeze.
And NEVER (yet) has it been how I imagined it (but since I
hadn’t put it into words anyways does it count?) 
But then I find myself standing here… 

Over my head in PEACE

Realizing my prayers were answered.

I was reading fairytales for one of my classes (in English)
and had to stop in the middle and say “dang, this is my life!” It is called
“The Nightengale”

The basic idea is there was this Emperor in Old China, and he
had everything. But the people told him he had to hear this Nightengale. So he
went, and though it very ugly and plain, until it sang. He asked the
Nightengale to come live with him. The Nightengale said it would come visit. So
it did. And the Emperor loved listening to it. So much so, that the Emperor got
scared. He started thinking that what if the Nightengale wanted to leave…what
would he do then? So one day he caught it and put it in a cage, to make sure it
would never leave, and he could always hear it singing. Then he got a gift. It
was a golden music box shaped nightingale. It was much prettier than the real
thing. So he forgot about the real nightingale and it escaped. No one noticed
until the golden one broke. Then the king got sad and wished for the real thing
and blah blah…and the neat thing about the story is…the nightingale hears the
king is sad and sick and comes back and sings for him (although asking that he
please not be captured again). 

So the point? When you love something, you cannot captivate
it…you have to learn to let it go—and be free to go. Also, not to settle for
substitutes. You have to learn how to receive without taking. To enjoy with
hands open. To enjoy without knowing if the same joy will be there tomorrow but
being happy because today is today and what you have is good.

I got to be really good friends with a guy here in Brasil. I
don’t really know how to describe it, but to say that the friendship was really
sweet. Good. And so I began to wonder, dream, and push for what I will call
“more than friendship.” Not that I wanted the friendship to change…but I was
scared. I was like the emperor, listening and enjoying the song, and then
scared it would change or not be there tomorrow. So I had to captivate
it—capture the friendship and make it last forever. And I figured the way to do
that was to have a “relationship,” date, or something of the sort. I was scared
that I would be replaced by someone else or that I would not be a priority, or
he would not have time for me.

Because sometimes friendship is harder than
dating. Dating has rules. When you date, you suddenly have to assess where the
relationship is. You make commitments and say things like “Are we on the same
page?” Friendship isn’t really put onto paper. You don’t sign anything. And you
don’t really sit down to discuss the relationship. It is more of waking up and
deciding how much you want to invest. You are not tied to it. People don’t
expect you to show up with so and so. You don’t have to tell so and so what
your plans are. And you don’t have to buy them flowers. 

And it makes me wonder how many guy/girl friendships were
pushed into “relationships” not because they were meant for each other, but
because the friendship was good. Sweet. They liked it and wanted more. They
wanted to secure it. Tie it down. And instead…it gets crushed. Destroyed.

One thing that I learned from my past relationship was
something said to me after we ended it: “I though we’d last forever—but forever
was really only a choice away.” And it is true…a choice begins and ends
relationships, friendships. So needless to say, through some discussion and
conclusions, the friendship I have with this guy is just that, friendship. And
it is good. 

So sorry Erica (who wanted to be my bridesmaid), it is still
going to be awhile.

To find and never have,
or to never find and never know?
**

Ignorance is bliss

What price am I willing to pay for bliss?

Is innocence bliss too?

So I wrote this paper for my relationships class after I
took this test. The tests results said that I sometimes have doubts about
feeling loved. And that I also feel uncomfortable in giving and receiving
expressions of love and affection. Somewhere along the way in my life, I came
to the idea that I needed to DO things to be loved. This was never something
taught or spoken to me directly or indirectly. But throughout my life, I found
myself constantly stressing to keep up, and maintain what I am doing for others
and investing in relationships. It was a pressure because I felt that if I
stopped, they would not care for me anymore.

I also realized that this is how I
treat others. I like them (often) based on how I respect them. I respect them
based on what they do. So in the end…I like them because of what they do, not
for who they are. But I am learning to like people for who they are, and
respect them because they are human, just like me. They have made mistakes and
will make them again. They have done wonderful things and will do more—but that
does not rule their lives. And the same is true for me. I need to accept that I
am liked and loved for who I am, and that will not change if I leave or am
absent or mess up or freak out. Then i will be able to love like that too.

I am trying to buy my ticket on the internet. More confusing
by the minute. Dates and prices keep changing and in the end, it is all just a
click away. Please pray. So many decisions. Mainly, returning July or
August—help with English camp and preparations, or more time with family and
earning money. The only chance I have ALL YEAR to earn money is while I am in
the US
this summer. And yet…the main reason I am home is to be with my family. And if
that time is shortened…in the end, family time is what is cut. Unless I don’t
work. Or just do odd jobs. Which might be an idea. The thing is, I want to
support myself. I like asking for things…if it is for other people. I like
connecting people. For example, someone gave a generous gift for Living Stones
after I wrote about all the needs (opportunities) to give.

It wasn’t about the money. It was about the connection. I
got to be a connector. And Living Stones? The workers there feel connected—they
are amazed that someone would care, so far away, for them. And the person? I
know they are blessed by giving because that is what giving does. And that
makes me happy. I feel fulfilled. But it is something different asking for
money for myself.

And, unfortunately, I need money to live here. And I cannot
work. Because I do not have the Visa, and they won’t give it to me. So I can
either work in the US
and save up until I have the money to come to Brasil, or ask. It is $150 a
month for my food, ministry, non-food, and transportation. It is another $100 a
month to go to college here (which is how I am coming at all, since I needed a
visa and am getting a student visa. So I have to be a student). With taxes and
all from the US
that takes another $100, and to save up each month to have money for a plane
ticket to come home after a year and a half, it is another $100. So that is about $500 a month that I need to ask of others. To ask at churches.
To support me coming to Brasil and teaching, living, serving in Brasil until
the end of 2009. And if that money does not come in? I will need to come back
early and work until that money is saved up.

One day soon, I want to be able to get a side job in Brasil.
So I can teach, but also support myself. So that when money is needed for projects, I write
a nice long e-mail about it, and people have the opportunity to give. And I can
connect them. What is so hard about me being the one being connected? Why do I
find it so hard to receive things myself?