while i was in the the US for an extra three weeks and a day, figuring out my visa and plane ticket issues, i started making a list of my “pebbles” or things that i found each day that were special, and reasons why i was where i was. here is some of it:

*riding my bike downtown. multiple times. in the rain.
*sleeping on the trampoline with John.
*typewriter. the clicks sound like rain on a tin roof.
*e-mails. the encouragements of others.
*grocery shopping for mom. for some reason, i really like doing this.
*small projects. painting. tearing up stuff. repacking my stuff nicely.
*swimming. even if i did manage to lose our entry cards.
*seeing Anna off to Chicago.
*cleaning the house and organizing stuff. like grocery shopping, this is strangely theraputic.
*resting/time with God.
*reading…a ton of books. like “Walking with God” by John Eldredge and “Peter Pan in Scarlet”
*meeting/talking with lotsa people at church–having a church
*going to the county fair. missed the State fair though. by a day.
*Chicago. what more can be said?
*being with Anna…the girl is the big e word. ahhhh!
*meeting cool people in Chicago like a pirate and Tyler the kid and girls who do not shave their armpits.
*learning the whole “being social” thing. again. and again.
*jumping off the rocks in Lake Michigan.
*offering to adopt a child.
*imagining being a mother.
*becoming a vegetarian.
*recieving the prayers and love and support of people i don’t even know.
*falling in love with McDonald’s parfays.
*Vegas with Erica.
*Taco bell with Daniel.
*Smoothies with Carina.
*Subway with Xakk.
*Mexican with the Gilliams.
*Chinese with my family–including Donovan.
*Pastor Carr preaching.
*camping with John and my dad.
*talks and tears and prayers and sharing love with Daisy.
*giving my testimony at the mission.
*Jane Austin and Carina.
*getting second goodbyes.
*feeling peace.

there was a lot of life in those days. i want to live my whole life like that. God, don’t let me forget the lessons learned. let me cast my bread upon the water.

a little stressed the past couple of days.

i think this whole TRUSTING GOD thing is a full time job. because i do really really well for the first five minutes or so. but then time keeps coming. and i lose my place.

here is something beautiful:

i talked with 5th,6th, and 9th grade about Daisy and the whole situation and we prayed together about it. every day i turn around to tugs on my arm of “Ms.Rachel, i am praying–did you hear anything new about the baby yet?” Thursday we were all close to tears and i wondered if i was right in telling them. it is so heavy. to put something heavy on the shoulders of children’s laughter feels like a sin. Friday morning there was rejoicing: “see Ms.Rachel?”

Hugo said “Ms.Rachel, i prayed that God would be with this baby. that He would save it and let it be with us, or if He would hold it in His arms.” Lucas let his tears drop onto his red shorts and said “I prayed to. Because God knows best.”

i felt like i was in a room full of faith. and beauty. and nothing could penetrate it. each day there are miracles. some days they just look more like what we think they should look like and we recognize them. some days we don’t.

i should have more news on Monday or Tuesday.

humor break:

Wednesday was my first attempt to answer a question in class (at college). i raised my hand timidly, but the teacher didn’t see me. great. off the hook. nope. the woman next to me loudly says “Rachel wants to say something!” the teacher still didn’t hear. by the teacher turns to me, seven or eight other women were loudly pointing at me and saying “the girl wants to say something! she wants to answer the question!” and by that time i had forgotten my answer entirely.

after a couple second recovery, i croak out my response in Portuguese. my former brilliant thought echoes in complete silence. either my answer was so genious-like that they missed it or i misunderstood the question entirely. either way…glad that is over with.

Monday: Scientific Method
Tuesday: Philosophy (i really like this teacher)
Wednesday: Epistemology of Education (basically the systematic study of education. they liked the big word. it took the whole class time to explain it)
Thursday: i teach English for the teachers at the International school and hang out with the Moraes’s
Friday: i am free–it is the weekend= Paudalho. maybe guitar lessons.

yeah, i got out of class on Thursday and Friday because i had already taken those classes in the USA. I asked them about transferring my credits and they were pretty iffy about it. i then told them i understood i still needed to pay the same tuition and they were more than happy to comply with anything i said. ah Brasil…pais do meu coracao.

Well…
God is doing something…

Daisy did NOT have the abortion yesterday.

But she is scheduled again for an abortion today.

“His mercies are new every morning, great is Thy faithfulness o Lord…”

Daisy has an abortion scheduled for 9:30am Thursday–TOMORROW morning.

she went and got the ultrasound. they told her they didn’t have the right equipment to let her hear the baby’s heartbeat. liars.

My friend went and saw her. talked with her. cried with her. prayed with her. discussed options and God and life and regret.

she knows exactly what she is doing. but she still wants the abortion. she just wants it over.

God can still work a miracle.

but it hurts so bad.

i got a shot. they were giving out free shots and Aninha said i need to save the someday-yet-unknown-and-hardly-thought-of future children i might have. so i got the free shot. rubella or something like that. i don’t like shots. and yet i want a tattoo. go figure.

i ride the school bus. for the first time in my life (being homeschooled until college, and then having a car). i walk outside and watch the stars (since it gets dark at 5:45pm ) and wave down anything that looks like it might be my bus. normally, this is about 3 trucks and 5 other kinds of buses before mine finally comes. i haven’t figured out how to tell the headlights apart. then i sheepishly try to keep to myself and am rediculously shy while random people ask me questions about English. durn–i am supposed to be facinating because i am dazzlingly beautiful, not because i happened to pop out of a woman located in the US of A.

this whole vegetarian thing is going too well. i must be doing something wrong.

teaching at the school is going great. they figured out the schedule so i have each grade one time a day. it works a lot better than all of them mixed up and squished together. a couple glitches…some students knowing how to spell “Octagon” while others in the same grade cannot remember how to say the letter “h.” and one student (bless her little soul) refused to say anything at all for half an hour while the other students and i coaxed her on to attempt the beginning “Good Morning.”

We watched the opening of the Olympics as a school, and i was surprised at how definate i was in cheering on anything USian. hmmm.

also good news–the kids painted pictures and then had an auction–and raised $2000R for the children’s hospital in Recife. when Tele called the hospital to tell them, they didn’t beleive him. another friend had to call them and let them know it was for real. voluntary giving is not very big in Brasil. it is still rather a novel ideal.

still no news about Daisy.

i crossed over “middle earth“ or whatever you would call the part of your life spent being transported and airport life–self-flushing toilets, self-running faucets, self-squirting soap, and being permanently attached to your baggage.

it all passed quickly and it never feels quite real. but it is a definate three part transition
1. USA is clear, Brasil is fuzzy
2. Everything is fuzzy
3. Brasil is clear, and USA is fuzzy

i am sure there is a better word than fuzzy. i just don`t feel like finding it right now.

Question: what do people do who do not have a Dad who looks them in the eye and says “You made the right choice.“?

I arrived at the international school with a big hug from Daniel (4th grade), who then lead me to the other classes and i was pushed into a corner by waves and waves of children flowing out of their classrooms and chanting “Rachel! Rachel!”

you think i am exaggerating. i am not.

Returning to Brasil was not magical. it was familiar. just as i notice a chance when i go to the US of everyone being black or white, so returning to Brasil i noticed everyone turned back to a nice mixed brown again. a familiar brown. a familiar, melodic language. what was not familiar or magical was returning to the cold morning shower. i have a sudden urge to become French.

i have so much STUFF. i always forget that until i have to unpack it all. because i try to bring the USA to Brasil and that is impossible. i ate my leftover dried cherries for breakfast. i’ve been eating them alot in Indy (because, yeah–i became vegetarian. for about a month now) but eating dried cherries in Brasil is completely different. Reading the same books i grew up with is different in Brasil. i guess it is the atmosphere. it affects me more than i know.

i went to college last night. first time for me and for them. yep, i am the first American to attend there. and neither one of us is sure what to do with me. i have lost some of my Portuguese. about 25% of the lecture went over my head. another 25% was lost because i am taking the education major, and for some reason, all the guys are scared away. there is only one guy in the class. and i think they will scare him away too–because they are rather loud and chatty. but the 50% of sociology class was good. then she talked about tests, and i am getting nervous.

no new news about Daisy yet…just praying. internationally. and i do not have personal internet access yet, so am writing this on a borrowed computer. but once i get everything rolling a little smoother…i will make sure to reply to all of your kind and gracious feedback and questions!

I keep waiting for other people to make decisions so I can
make mine. Should it be like that? I guess it is when you love someone. Then
you affect them and they affect you and plans are changed and things are up in
the air. But I thought for sure something would be clear by now. I figured
someone would do something and then the road would shine bright and I would
walk forth, knowing it was the right thing to do.

So I tried to make sure I didn’t want anything. That either
way I would be fine. Staying or going. But then that passed. I sat in church on
Sunday and knew. Knew I wanted to go. As soon as you say what you want you run
the risk of not getting it. But I felt ready. 

Saturday we visited Anna in Chicago and…it is more important to her to
not be locked into keeping a date than knowing ahead of time and I understand
that. So I really feel fine about going to Brasil. Letting her make her
choices, root for her from a (slight) distance where she can know she is taking
responsibility on her own.

But I don’t know about this mother and baby (*I will call
the birth mother/girl “Daisy” to avoid all confusion*). I have played the whole
game over and over in my head—the what ifs, the wonderings…no conclusion. What
I don’t want is to wake up one morning in Brasil and wonder “would that baby
have lived if I had stayed in the US?” 

Daisy and I talked for about an hour. She told me that it
didn’t matter what I did, and staying back from going to Brasil wouldn’t make a
difference. She said she doesn’t want this baby. I showed her the information
about the baby growing and the affects of abortion and possible consequences
and another brochure about adoption. I don’t know if she really takes me
seriously about adopting the baby. But she knows it is a baby, and it is her
baby.

I asked her why she would get an abortion. She said because
she didn’t want to be pregnant at school. I told her she could be homeschooled
(my mother had offered). She said she wanted to go to school. I asked her if
that was the only reason, and she said no, because she just isn’t ready to be a
mother—to take care of someone else when she can’t even take care of herself.
And I said I completely agreed. Which was why I would adopt the baby. She said
if she had the baby, she would want to keep him/her. That surprised me, and I
asked why…she said “because I made it” as she whipped away her tears. 

We talked about how if she kept this baby how she would know
she had done the right thing. She turns 16 in May, so the baby is due in
March…she could have the baby and everything taken care of by May. Some
adoption parents would even compensate her (not me…but) and she could put that
money in a fund towards college. She would know who her true friends were.
Those who made fun of her wouldn’t be worth her time, and those who were would
see what a true act of heroism following through with this pregnancy would be. Yes,
it would be 8 more months of her life…but this baby would grow up and do great
things, be great, and always know that his/her mother loved them enough to…let
him/her live.

She understands this is a baby. She understands that having
an abortion is killing the baby. But she doesn’t seem to see any other options.
Still. Something is not getting through to her, and I cannot make it happen. We
talked about if she wanted to keep the baby for awhile…and how each day is a
new decision. Or if she wanted me to keep the baby until she was 21 and able to
take care of him/her. I threw out quite a few options. It really came down to
“Daisy, if you have an abortion, it ends all options. When you chose to
continue with the pregnancy, then each day you can see the options that
come—and believe me, you will not be alone. You will have people there along
side you.” 

We talked about God’s love. About how nothing could separate
her from God’s love. About guilt and feeling empty and if she chooses to have
this abortion how God will not change, nor His love towards her. We sat on her
front porch in silence a lot. Me not really knowing what to say, but not
wanting to leave because she was still listening and her little brother, age 7,
popping out his head and trying out life with a back scratcher tied to his arm
to make him have super powers.

She is scheduled for an ultrasound on Thursday. She didn’t
remember what the name of the place is, or where is, so I don’t know if it is a
crisis pregnancy place, or a planned parenthood place that will then schedule
an abortion for her afterwards. She didn’t tune me out. She listened. She
cried. 

Please don’t scold me, and please don’t praise me. I am not
a saint nor angel, misguided child or attention seeker. I am just a young woman
trying to walk in each footstep that God prepares for me.

I have had so much response from this whole…adventure. My
inbox is filled with amazing people telling me they are praying and will love,
support, and help in any way. And I wake up this morning with Brasil before me.
It billows stronger and stronger and I can imagine anything except for not
going. 

It comes down to—did I do all I was meant to do in Daisy’s
life? Did God have me where I was to offer my help, share my love, and then
leave it in His hands, or to stay and see daily what would happen and help her
through, pregnancy or abortion? What is my responsibility? And that is only
what I can answer. I have desperately sought the advice and counsel of others,
but they cannot reach in and put peace in my soul. I know that either decision
would bring good fruit. I know that either decision will bring glory to God.
Selfishly speaking, I know that either decision will bring criticism from some,
praise from others. It has come down to it, and I cannot please everyone. And
that scares me, if you want to know the truth.

The past couple days of Oswald Chambers “My Utmost for His
Highest” has blessed me. Monday: “…As Christians we are not out for our own
cause at all, we are out for the cause of God, which can never be our cause. We
do not know what God is after, but we have to maintain our relationship[ with
Him whatever happens. We must never allow anything to injure our relationship
with God…the main thing about Christianity is not the work we do, but the
relationship we maintain and the atmosphere produced by that relationship. That
is all God asks us to look after, and it is the one thing that is being
continually assailed. “

Yesterday: “…The call of God can never be stated explicitly;
it is implicit…it cannot be stated definitely because His call is to be in
comradeship with Himself for His own purposes, and the test is to believe that
God knows what He is after. The things that happen do not happen by chance,
they happen entirely in the decree of God. God is working out His purposes. “

Today: “…The idea of prayer is not in order to get answers
from God; prayer is perfect and complete oneness with God. If we pray because
we want answers, we will get huffed with God. …when prayer seems to be
unanswered, beware of trying to fix the blame on someone else. That is always a
snare of Satan. You will find there is a reason which is a deep instruction to
you, not to anyone else.”

** 

I am going to Brasil. God has called me there, and I feel
His peace leading me on. But the whispers kick at my heels, and the tell me “if
the baby dies it will be your fault.” And “you are abandoning her.” They
torment me. And I could tell you all the reasons why or not why but really, it
comes down to this. It is God’s work. The woman at the youth center is
following up closely. I am not giving up. I am not throwing in the towel. I
will come back on the first plane if needed. And…great things are
going to happen.

“The Lord is my shepherd

I shall not want

He makes me lie down in green pastures

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul;

He leads me in the paths of righteousness

For His name’s sake.” Psalm 23:1-3
 

Please keep praying for the baby, the mother, and
grandmother. Pray for those at the youth center continuing to reach out to her.
Please pray for me also. I will continue to give you updates as soon as I am
able.