Brazil- From Poverty to Riches

Well, when I originally set out to blog about my experience in Brazil I had no idea it would take so long. It has now been many many weeks and time seems to continue to slip away from me. I think I shall finish the Brazil posts, even though I feel like it was forever ago.. this last little bit is what took the longest to process.. probably the most difficult kaleidoscope of emotions out of the whole trip. 


Thursday was an interesting day. The day can basically be broken into 3 different parts and each part is quite a bit different from the other. 
So this day started at a small church in a poor part of the city where they really rolled out the red carpet for us. They served us coffee and cake before we headed out into the flavellas or slums. 


It was quite a stark contrast.. being served and then going into to areas so poverty stricken one could only wonder at how the families managed to survive. 

A lady with a few of her kids
They lived in this one room made out of propped up wood,
tarps and old blankets. 

This kid was all about the hugs

It was so humbling to me to see how stark little these families were. I mean.. I've heard of the poor. I've seen people in America who were "poor".. but these people literally had nothing. They lived in dirt and their whole family would sleep on one single dirty, worn out mattress. When the storms and floods would come, their houses fell down. One lady we met was an old frail grandmother who was all skin and bones. She lived in a small house that had two rooms, one bed, and a sink maybe.. (I'm not sure if I remember seeing this) But anyways.. she lived there with her 6 grandchildren. At one time there had been 20 people living in that small space. The neat thing about her, though, was that she was a believer and she smiled and had joy. She even made the comment "It's not so bad to be poor as long as you have Jesus." When she said that I felt sick. Because I wasn't thinking about how blessed she was to have Jesus, I was thinking how sad it was that she didn't have stuff. But I *knew* that what she said was absolutely true and I hated that it affected me so much. I hated that I hadn't been thinking about the positive side of her situation the first time. 

Taking all of those experiences and pondering them in my heart, I found myself in culture shock again. We were taken back to the church where we were served a i-dont-know-how-many-coursed meal. (Perhaps 7) Poverty.. to riches. I felt almost sea sick like I was being yanked back and forth. And I thought *THAT* was a good yank. No.. after the slums and the poor little church we were taken to the market to spend all of our lovely American moneys on trinkets and presents that would later sit on our desks and shelves, collect dust, get old.. blah blah blah. I hated that too. I hated that it was *so* easy for us to step out of the poorest situation we've ever encountered and then spend our money on worthless things that made NO impact on eternity.

The Market was 5 glorious stories of.. stuff.

 It was so difficult for me that I often found myself picking things up and putting them back. While I did get some things.. It wasn't a "go crazy in the marketplace" day like I thought it would be. What I really wanted to do was process the slums and the poverty and the filth. I wanted to cry over the children who live in those places and are made to be prostitutes and drug dealers at young ages for money. I wanted to think about the mothers who had to raise their children and provide for them at the same time. But I could not because I was in the market and I was supposed to be thinking about things to buy for my amigos back in the US.  

From there.. we went to the beach. What every tourist wants to do, right? I was actually kind of sad that the sun had gone down by the time we got to the beach. I've always imagined that if I stood on a beach and gazed out at the ocean and saw how big it was, that I would do nothing else but fall to my knees and worship God. I've always LOVED those pictures you see of a tiny person lifting their hands in worship to God while waves crash on a really big beach. I would have loved to see the sunset on the beach. All these things were little disappointments that I did not feel as all too disappointing since I was so detached from it all anyways. Nothing seemed real to me. 

After a few minutes in the ocean where there was more seaweed than water, we headed to the restaurant where we were to have dinner on the beach. 

We ate under a grass-roofed tent

Brazilian soda

Shrimp

Fresh lobster

 They served us the finest, freshest lobster and fish I had ever tasted. It just seemed so odd to me that we could eat like royalty and such while we *knew* there were kids that didn't know were their supper was coming from. I think this made me feel even more detached from the exotic beach experience. To be perfectly honest.. It was hard for me to be all excited about it. I know that since I was there and experiencing it in all its glory.. I should have been more thankful for it and enjoyed it more. But I had SO many conflicting emotions and feelings about everything. 
It was at this point that I fully realized that I was not anyway attached to my team. I loved them. But I did  not feel like I belonged to them and I did not wish to be so. 


That night after we returned to our house we had a bit of a debriefing session while sitting on the floor of our house. One of my teammates made the comment, "How much faith do you have to have to trust God and be poor." Another gutting feeling. Right when he said that I had this thought run through my mind, "If you were to go to India and live there for 2 years.. you would be poor. You would live like that everyday, with out water, with out electricity and every comfort you wish for now." I really fought crying. I was not about to be so vulnerable or transparent with my team though and so I kept all my thoughts inside. I think that moment was the most difficult part to swallow out of the whole trip. 


Realizing that while God may be calling me to live a life of poverty and discomfort.. I, for the first time in my life, felt like I could not do it because I loved my comfortable life too much. I hated that. I hated that I would be so selfish that I would say 'no' to something God may be calling me to. I have never feared missions before.. but I honestly was afraid that God would call me to that. To live an uncomfortable, dirty, poor life filled with snakes, spiders, bugs, sickness, isolation from my family and friends and abandonment of everything that I hold dear. 


It was an odd mixture of guilt and fear. I felt even worse that I could not be transparent and honest with my teammates. I felt like I was being dishonest in not sharing with them how I felt about the trip. I felt bad for not falling in love with Brazil like they had. I felt bad for looking forward to going home. I chose not to be the debbie downer of the trip and so I kept it all to myself. If you know me.. this is actually very difficult thing to do. I have never been one to keep to myself or not talk. I was so thankful when Jeff dismissed the meeting because all I wanted to do was be away from people. I knew that I would feel so much better if I let myself cry but I remember only letting one single tear escape as I fell asleep in my hammock listening to my teammates laugh and make jokes in the next room. 


Every morning we were to wake up at 6:30 to start our day in time. On Friday, I think I woke up around 4:30 or 5. I was too emotionally exhausted to sleep. I grabbed my Bible and prayer journal and found myself outside on the steps of our house searching for some sort of encouragement. I tried to journal some.. but I was so dry and feeling detached I could not. I found myself just sitting and staring at the trees and wondering "why am I here?" Then I felt bad. I had heard Paige say that the last thing they want people who visit the Lar to do is ask why they came. I *knew* God had a purpose for everything, but i did not feel like I belonged in Brazil. After some time I heard the wake up alarm go off in the house and so I went back in to ready for the day. To my surprise, I was greeted at the front door by my roommate who had woken other people up when she had seen that I was not in my hammock. It was so odd to me that she would worry, but it was incredibly refreshing to know that while I did not feel any attachment to my team, people still cared about me.  
Later that day I found time to talk to my pastor Jeff a little bit about how I felt with being distant from the team and such. He made the comment that while I'm so reserved, i actually have really deep things to say if I actually talk. That was weird to me.. I'm never reserved. I'm crazy wild and spontaneous and bubbly and talkative and outgoing... and I wasn't me on the Brazil trip. I missed that. I missed being bubbly and happy and crazy. 


That wasn't cool. Mission trips and service projects are supposed to make me *more* bubbly and happy and excited about life. I'm happy and bubbly because I have Jesus and he makes me happy and bubbly and excited about life. Serving Jesus is like putting fuel on the fire. It intensifies all of my personality. So what was wrong? What was I doing wrong? Why why why did I feel like God was not with me in Brazil? I'm *still* processing that. BUT! It has definitely stirred in me a fear of going some where with out God.


  The rest of the trip/ flights back were, for the most part, uneventful. I was happy to be back in the US. I was happy to turn on my phone and communicate with my family and friends again. 


Sunday night after i got back I went to my Perspectives class. The speaker talked about how he was called into the jungle to share the Gospel with people who had never ever heard of Jesus. He lived with snakes and bugs and no electricity and basically described all my feelings. He talked about how much he disliked living an uncomfortable life but how worth it it was to him to see that tribe come to Jesus. He said lots of things that seemed like he was pounding nails in my heart. Once again I was faced with the idea that perhaps God is calling me to live a life of discomforts. While I am scared to death that thats what I would be called to.. I am even more scared that I would say 'no' and go the other way. I don't want to be a Jonah. I *KNOW* that following God means reckless abandon of all things we hold dear. 
I *KNOW* that when God calls we should respond in obedience. It frightens me that I would consider saying 'no' to God. I never imagined that *I* of all people would consider copping out on God. 


I still feel sick about it everyday. What if I say 'yes'? I could be called away from family and friends and have to live with bugs and snakes and smells.. 
What if I say 'no'? What if I said 'no' to my God? To my savior.. my *Father*... How could I even *think* about it? Yet I do. I am afraid to say 'yes' and I am afraid to say 'no'. I know that I *shouldn't* say 'no'. But I want to.. sometimes. Sometimes I feel all about saying 'yes' and jumping into overseas missions with out a second thought.. but sometimes I have second thoughts. 


I feel guilty for having second thoughts. 

Brazil- A Mountain-top Experience

Psalm 121:1-3

  I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
   where does my help come from? 

 My help comes from the LORD,
   the Maker of heaven and earth.

 He will not let your foot slip—
   he who watches over you will not slumber

Wednesday. The middle day of the week that is considered the peak of the mountain or the top of the hill because the rest of the week is all down hill. Ironically enough, Wednesday was the day that we climbed a mountain. 

I actually didn't know that we were going to be climbing a mountain. Perhaps this was because of my disconnected feeling to things that I did not catch it. Paige had told us a few times that we would be going on a hike and I don't think I cared much beyond that. (Hmm.. apathy.. 

tis a dangerous thing to have on a missions trip..) Anyways.. Hike day came and I was much looking forward to the adventure of it all. We met up with some of the older boys of the Lar that lived at a location in the town and we took a bus to the starting point of our great hike.

 

You can't really see the top here because it's in the clouds.

When I saw the mountain I realized why Paige had stressed the need for there to be 2 bottles of water for every person.  It was kind of a beast. Apart from the fact that I do not regularly climb mountains and do not think myself to be made for climbing mountains.. I am quite a bit of an asthmatic as well. Even just sleeping in the hammocks at the Lar was enough to tighten my lungs so that yawning in the morning was impossible with out a lot of pain. Thankfully I had thought ahead enough to bring my inhaler and other medications to Brazil with me. I have not had need for my inhaler during the day time for a long long time.. sometimes in the morning to open my lungs up again. but I generally don't carry it.  On this day, for some odd reason I put my inhaler in my backpack last minute. 1/4 the way up the mountain I realized I was fairly dependent on that little tiny pressurized canister. I hated it. While a lot of people were having the time of their life climbing that mountain, navigating the steep rocks and wet clay.. I was not. 


It was more humiliating than anything else. I hated that my lungs were shutting off and I just couldn't stay at the front of the group like I was supposed to. Thankfully.. I wasn't the only one who had to take it a little slower than the rest of the group. But even going at it a slower pace with a few others.. I kept on thinking "why God? Why did you give me these lungs? Why can't I just keep up with everyone else?" 
I felt like everyone else made climbing mountains look like the easiest most natural thing in the world to them. I hated that to. I just wanted to get to the top of the mountain so that I could be done with it. It was rather difficult to enjoy the lush green plants and beautiful flowers growing on the side of the mountain.  

The half way point.

Climbing

God did some beautiful things on this mountain.

I did not really enjoy the climbing of the mountain. I enjoyed the resting parts of it. And the more we climbed, the more I enjoyed not climbing. 
While climbing, sometimes my foot would slip, or I would stumble. Sometimes it was difficult to find a foothold in the wet clay from the earlier rain. I kept thinking of the Psalms where David would talk about almost slipping or needing a strong foothold.  I've heard a lot of mountain analogies in church and Bible studies and other such places but.. I live in Iowa. The flattest part of Iowa. I grew up where you can stand on a roof and see 3 or 4 towns in a 20 mile radius. Flat flat flat. I was finally understanding what David was meaning when he said that he needed God to keep his feet from slipping. I was finally understanding the significance of the mountains we face in our own lives. Mountains are not easy to climb. Mountains can be dangerous.. if you fall when you're climbing a mountain.. may God have mercy you.. and pity the man who falls and has no one to pick him up. 


Anyways.. those 2 bottles of water were like drops of heaven while making the climb. In fact.. I think I ended up drinking closer to 8 or 9 bottles while going up the thing. I have never in my life consumed so much water in one morning.... but it seemed to help the dizziness.  Annnnyways.. after a little more than 2 hours of climb climb climbing the mountain and being tired and sweaty and gross we reached the almost top. It wasn't THEE top.. but it was up there. And there at the top was a beautiful lake and a place of rest.  

The Lake at the top where we swam and rested and ate lunch.

We had a devotional time at the top. 

After that time of rest and renewal of energy, we went continued up to the very top of the mountain to the highest point in the state where we could see the city and the ocean and.. just everything. 

sitting on a rock at the top of the mountain. 

The team at the top. 

And it was all down hill from there.  It was great being at the top. Breath taking and amazing... and it was even more exciting because it takes a lot less energy getting down a mountain then up one. But! It's easy to slip when coming down the mountain. Coming down we had to be careful to pick our path so that we did not roll an ankle or fall head long onto the rocks.  

To be honest.. i was glad when the mountain was over and I was glad when wednesday was over. I was on day closer to going home and I had gotten past the most strenuous part of the trip. Looking back now, though, I can see a lot of Biblical analogies. Everything about the mountain can be taken as a lesson in everyday life.  

Brazil- Washed in White

Psalm 51:7
Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
   wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.


Tuesday in Brazil was much like Monday. I spent most of the day white washing the wall and being completely covered in white wash paint by the end of the day. It meant a lot when the wall finally had it's first coat of white wash because it looked like we had gotten something accomplished! It's amazing how different something can look after being coated in white. I thought about how Jesus does the same things with us. We are dirty and broken down and in need of some help and he scrapes us down and prepares us for some white washing. Once done.. we look different inside and out! And after the wall had a layer of white wash on it.. it looked a lot better than it did before. After the Visas miracle and the feeling of being disconnected, I just was looking for the reason God had brought us on the trip. I was thinking "Obviously.. He wouldn't pulled off that miracle for us if there wasn't a specific reason." And seeing our work at the wall well done I thought, "Hmm.. perhaps THIS is it. Perhaps this is the reason we were sent. To help fix a wall.."

L to R: Mandy (worked at the Lar), myself, and teammate Victoria
We worked on this wall til it got dark out.
We were much excited when we finished!

After an entire day of working and painting, I looked down at my feet
and thought about the verse that says "How beautiful are the feet
that bring good news." My feet did not look beautiful to me..

After Completing the wall and being exhausted and excited to go to sleep, we were informed that there was a Bible study in the older girls house (12-14yrs old) and we were to participate. At first I didn't want to go because I was tired, filthy, and the Bible study was supposed to be starting right about the time we finished the wall.  After a super speedy shower and wash off time, Victoria and I hurried over to the girl's house to join them for Bible study. One of the American girls who lives at the Lar gave the Bible study while Rachel, the daughter of  Paige and Mark, translated. 

The Bible study was about guilt and experiencing God's forgiveness. After reading some Bible verses and such, the girl leading the Bible study opened it up for sharing things such as your testimony. Mandy was the first to speak and she said that she had quit her job, sold her house and her car and basically everything she had to move to Brazil and with that she had left her past behind and she looked forward to the future. One of the girls from my team shared about how she had come to know Jesus and why He had meant so much to her. Then.. it got a little crazy. 

One of the girls from the Lar said she wanted to share her story. She was 13 years old and she talked about how she had become addicted to crack at age 3 and by the time she was 10 she was both a crack addict and a prostitute trying to get money for drugs. She talked about how she had been rescued and brought to the Lar where she realized that there were people that actually cared about her and she gave her life to Jesus. 

I told her how I amazed I was and I asked her how she was so brave in telling others about it boldly and not worrying of what others might think. Her response was,  "I like my story. I did not like what I went through, but I like how Jesus changed me and how I can use that now. When I grow up, I hope to use my story to reach out to other girls on the streets who are going through the same thing." 

..Wow. I get chills even thinking back on it now. She had such a beautiful smile when telling her story and she was absolutely serious about liking her story. The story sharing didn't stop with her though. Several other girls whose ages ranged from 12-14 began opening up and sharing about how they had been raped and abused and mistreated over and over again by many different people and all this horrific stuff but they trusted Jesus. They knew Jesus could make them whole and bring healing. How mind blowing that was to me. First of all, these girls were at the stage in life where self-esteem means everything and they been robbed of self-worth by people in the family and people they knew. Second of all.. these girls had already been through hell and were able to praise Jesus for it.  

While we were finishing up the discussion that night, Rachel asked the girls, "You know we love you, right?" One of the girls who had shared with us responded, "Yes, of course we know you love us. We see your love because you go to a school away from your families and when you get a break and a chance to see your families, you came to us instead. You gave up seeing your families to come to a different country and spend time with us and you didn't even know us. That is how we know you love us." And I think that is when God thumped me on the head and said "This is why you came. This is why you got your visas." 

Afterwards, we were told that nothing like that had ever happened. The girls had not opened up like that to anybody else. Again I was humbled, we had only been there 2 full days and we did not speak their language.. but God was working using us. Even though it seemed like my story was NOTHING compared to their story.. God showed me how He works in everyone's stories. There is no scale by which one can judge how great someone's God-story is. A God-story is an epic story period. How beautiful is the work God does when He changes someone's heart. How beautiful is the story of someone who has come to trust Jesus. 

Us with the girls after the Bible study