Happy New Year! Summer trip (its summer here after all)

Hey all, so I finished up all my pre Christmas activities in São Paulo and then went to the airport to wait Ariel's (college roommate) visit. Since then it has been nonstop moving around, we went to a Christmas Eve dinner at a friends house then left the next day for Rio, then took a bus to Buzios which is a little beach town about two hours up the coast that was beautiful, we spent three days there before coming back to Rio and spending the last three here. Today we are going to Copacabana for New Year's eve, its supposed to be one of the best places in the world to spend the new year. We leave tomorrow to return to Sao Paulo and grab a bus to the Iguazu waterfalls before continuing on to Buenos Aires and then to Montevideo, Uruguay. From Montevideo, I'll take another bus back into Brasil before flying to Salvador, Bahia, Brasil to be a translator for a missions team from the US coming down to work on a project with my Brasilian mission. I'll be there for two weeks before finally going back to Sao Paulo on the 22nd of January. Thanks for your continued prayers and support. Much love and God bless. Happy New Year!!

Sniffing glue, Christmas parties and soccer camp

“Indeed if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with the drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who want to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.” -CS Lewis

These past two weeks have continued to be full of year ending parties and camps. I went last week for a Christmas party for the street kids we work with. I arrived at the church in the center that runs a lot of the programs for various marginalized people groups in the center and began the preparations. We brought a big grill and like 100 pounds of meat, about 10 gallons of ice cream and about a 100 liters of soda. We decorated the church and prepared presents for each of the kids before we hit the streets to find the kids. We woke up every kid we found sleeping in the park, with many people passing by stopping to wonder what we were doing. Now I am starting to recognize and know many of the kids. We rounded up the kids and started the journey across the city center to carry the kids to the party. Several kids didn’t want to come with us and stayed where they were sleeping or sniffing glue, one kid named Sandro I immediately took a liking too, I chatted with him for a while about the streets, about his family and life. I soon found out that he had recently been at a Christian orphanage that I know well and had run away (he has since returned there). Many of the kids (aged maybe 6-18) carried there coke bottles filled with glue or paint thinner with them, hiding it somewhere in the city on their way over, knowing that we wouldn’t let them in with glue. When we arrived at the gate, ready to enter the party, full of steak, ice cream, games, music and presents two kids stood at the gate and plainly refused to give up their glue. One of the kids I knew fairly well, his name is Wesley, he’s about 10 years old and just a year ago lost one of his legs. He was riding the cargo train to Santos, which is a beach town not too far from here, I’m not sure of what exactly happened, but he lost his leg in the accident. He now walks around on crutches and reminds me of Tiny Tim. As I watched him sit outside the gate sniffing glue, with various Tios (literally uncles, but meaning like leaders) urging him to give up the glue and come into the party I couldn’t help but have a broken heart. The party went on without him and he eventually hobbled back to the park he normally hangs out in. As the party ended, the kids gorging on as much steak, ice cream and soda as they could have we encouraged them to leave the streets and shared a gospel message with them. None of them want to leave the streets, that is all they know and all they want, they have opportunities to be placed in homes or maybe even families but they prefer the streets. As that party moves into the past I can’t help but continue to reflect on Wesley and how he refused to enter the party.
At my soccer camp which was this past week I had the opportunity to get to know the guys better, they all tried to “baptize” me in the pool, but with no luck, we played lots of “bola” (ball, as they call soccer), had lots of pillow fights and ate some good food. We had a devotional time once during the day and I shared with my group from John 3, I shared about Moses lifting up the snake in the wilderness and how Jesus can be that salvation for us, but how we have to choose to look, we have to choose repentance and humility. It was just then that Wesley came to my mind, I shared with them about the street kids and about the two kids that chose to sniff glue instead of enter the party. I noticed in their faces that their attentions peaked; I asked them what their “glue” was, what it was that was keeping them from entering God’s party. We talked about the reality and temptations of the easy money and power of being a drug dealer, about using drugs and using woman, we talked about the struggles of giving up our “glue”, but about the joy of the party if we will only trust the Father that his party is infinitely better than our “glue”. I shared with them some of my own struggles and asked them to pray with me, to pray that God might free us from “sniffing glue” from whatever it was that was keeping them from the party. I invited them to look to Jesus and be saved, to stop “sniffing glue” and to enter into the eternal party of the creator of the universe. Several of them I knew had already prayed that prayer and several said that wanted to enter the party, I prayed with them and felt sad that I wouldn’t have more time to be here to see them grow up, to disciple them and see God work in their lives. I would ask prayer for these guys, for Daniel, Maurilio, Danilo, Erick, Kile, Miquael, Elias. Pray that their hearts might continue to be touched by the Father and that in the few months left I might be able to share God’s love with them. I praise God for the futsal ministry and how I can now see that it really is changing and shaping boys to become men of God.

My friend Wesley

sorry for a disjointed all over the place post

Wow, its hard to believe now that is has been nearly three months since I arrived in Brasil. That first time I entered the favela it was with fear and trepidation, now it is with joy that I can enter the favela. I no longer feel afraid or wonder if I will get lost and not find my house. I no longer fear someone will say something to me and I won’t understand and I feel accepted now as part of the community. The human being is an amazing creature how it can adapt to new situations so quickly, how the mind can adjust to seeing new things so quickly that they cease to be new after a short while; that it no longer seems strange to see guys on the corner selling drugs or even more curiously seeing those same guys flying kites.
These past few weeks have been good, but busy. On Saturday we had our year end closing party/dinner for the Radicais (Bible club sort of group). It was neat to see all of the kids/teens there and looking nice. We held it at a nearby church and had a big dinner for the families, most of them came which was an answer to prayer. The kids had been practicing a Christmas song all week (an odd one because it’s to the tune of Santa Claus is Coming to Town, but it’s about Jesus coming, which is the only version of that song known here in Brasil) and sang it for their parents. It was great to see smiles of accomplishment as some kids received rewards for outstanding behavior and all received Christmas presents. The whole banquet was a lot of work, but well worth it.
Last night I went to a ballet put on mostly by people from my community, it was sponsored by a ballet non profit that works with underprivileged kids, I was thoroughly impressed by the professionalism of the show (it was at a local theater with professional lights and scenery). It was great to see the kids faces shine as they knew they had done something special and worth all the applause they received. It was an odd moment too as I realized that after the show they still went back to their mostly broken homes and broken neighborhood, but for that one moment they were stars.
During this week we have been busy with Spring cleaning as I have sanded and painted many walls and railings now and continue to do odd jobs around the house to beautify the place. It’s a strange thing living in a favela because you know that any investment in your home might not really pay off long term because there is no real sense of long term because at any moment the government could hand you about $2,000 and give you a few weeks to move out before they bulldoze your house and build a luxury high rise condominium. Anyways sorry for low quality of the entry, but I’m tired and not feeling like writing for anyone to read but myself. I love and miss you all.

Police, Corruption and Drugs

I wrote this a few days ago, but the past few days, my neighborhood has been on the city wide news for drugs, with police all over the place...

Yesterday was the last day of practices (we still have a bunch of games and then our camp before the year really ends) for the year for my escolinha de futsal (Soccer school) and so we had coaches versus kids game. Although there are only 2 coaches, Fabio (the head guy) and I, but there a lot of people involved in the project and so we put together a team and the kids were very excited to play against us. We managed to win all of our games, I think we played for about 4 hours in total and by the end of the day my legs were so heavy I felt like I couldn’t walk, but it was a good feeling. I feel like I have come such a long way in my 2 1/2 months here, I remember my first day at the soccer school, not so confident in my Portuguese, finding it hard to communicate with the kids and not even knowing the rules of futsal. Now, I feel like I can communicate what I need to, know the kids by name and feel comfortable joking around with them and having a good conversation and I think I am finally starting to play futsal better as an added bonus. All this to say that as I was heading home I was feeling pretty good about the day, but ready to take a cold shower, drink a lot of water (preferably clean and cold, but knew it would be from the faucet and room temperature) and just relax.
Earlier in the day I had wanted to go back to my house to get something during our soccer lunch break and noticed about 8 police cars outside my favela as well as a helicopter hovering overhead, I cautiously entered, passing several policemen on my way to the house, grabbed what I needed, said hi and goodbye to some house mates who made sure I carried my documents (here in Brasil everyone always carries documents b/c it can be dangerous not to have them if the police stop you, especially here in my neighborhood). I went back for the afternoon of soccer forgetting about the policemen, but as I returned to my house for the day about 6 hours later the police and helicopter were all still there. It is common to see cops in the neighborhood, but usually they just drive by or stay for a few minutes, but yesterday was obviously something entirely different. From talking to neighbors most of the time the cops just drive by, take the drugs and money from the kids that are selling and leave the kids themselves alone. This time it was clear that would not be the case.
I later learned that the helicopter was not from the police, but from the news and that all this had happened because of a news report. Apparently our favela was on the news the night before as a reporter had gone undercover and bought drugs here. He had apparently done it several times as well as filming the drug activity. Within 12 hours of its airing on the news the police arrived in force at the favela, swept the place clean and put on a nice show for the news helicopter hovering overhead. It all makes me so mad, the police knew that drugs were sold there, they would come by and basically steal from the drug dealers and keep the money/drugs for themselves, but now that it was on the news they had to make a show of it as if they didn’t know beforehand. It’s all so political that it makes me sick. As I returned to the neighborhood the entrance to the favela (one day when I have a bit more courage I will take some pictures, I just don’t want to look like a tourist here) it was surrounded by about 6 police officers with probably about 20 more waiting by the 10 or so police SUV’s that were parked outside the entrance. I cautiously approached not sure I wanted to enter the favela when I noticed the two guys who always sold drugs outside the community being handcuffed and carried off in the police cars. I realized that for a while I had carried animosity for them, but just recently had started praying for them as human beings, not just for the drug traffic to go away, but for them and I felt such sadness seeing them carried away. (As I now talk to the guys in my house it is unclear who if anyone was actually arrested, but I’m fairly certain at least one guy was, the cops often let people go for a bribe.) People don’t leave prison rehabilitated, the leave worse, I fear for their lives and for their souls. I don’t even know their names, I would say what’s up to them as I passed by, but I never had a real conversation with them and it just seems so wrong that they should be taken away. I know they sold drugs, I know they brought so much pain to others, but they are only just kids (18-22 years old), kids making dumb decisions and now will pay with their futures.
As I walked into the favela tonight and saw the police sitting outside I found myself sad to not see the guys out there and with animosity towards the police. I know that both sides are wrong, the police who normally steal from drug dealers and don’t care about the welfare of the people only the size of the wallet and the kids that sell drugs and make money illegitimately. It maddens me that they come and do this whole show just because it was on tv when they have obviously known about it all for a long time. The politics of it all is just sickening and my heart sinks to think about those guys spending a few years rotting away in jail.
Earlier in the day I was up on the roof of my house trying to find internet when I saw one of the guys I play soccer with a bunch and always try to talk to when I see him. He is the nicest guy, very intelligent and well mannered. He is probably about 20-21 years old and used to be involved in the ministry of our house and of an area church. He still talks fondly about a group of Americans that came down on a missions trip and worked at his old church. Now, he never goes to church anymore and I knew he was involved in the drug trafficking, but I wasn’t sure how. As I stood on the roof and saw him across the way I said hi and he cracked some joke that I didn’t quite catch and then proceeded to step on the roof of the house in front of him carrying a big clear plastic bag that I could see had the packaged drugs in them. He went to the place I have learned is their stash (which is quite visible from my house, but almost nowhere else) hid the bag underneath the roof in this little place they created and went back to his house. It was the craziest thing just how normal it all was for him, I don’t know what to say to him or how to reach him, to help him. Later in the day I saw him and felt a bit awkward, I think he felt it too. I would pray for wisdom with how to talk to him and to pray for his life too. I don’t want to put his name here just in case for some reason someone understands English and reads my blog from here, but please pray for him.
It is such a battle to make kids understand that trading their future for a few highs today is not worth it, but this is so hard for them to grasp. I would ask for prayers for those guys, prayer that God might work a miracle in their lives and that instead of growing a hate inside of them while they are in prison there might grow up in them a hope that there could be a better life out there an alternative life, a fulfilling and abundant life of faith in God. Please pray for them and for my neighborhood both so desperately needing the love and healing that only God can bring.

Shoe shine boys and homemade bombs

Monday is my day of rest here, where I usually take it easy and have a Sabbath. Today, I walked to São Paulo’s domestic airport which is about 15 minutes from my house. I went there to look around and to check something for a friend that is coming to visit after Christmas. I found myself surprised by two things. First, was that I was able to read this month’s TIME magazine, The Economist and a bit of Newsweek in English while I blended in with the other air plane travelers in the airport news store. It’s a small thing, but a neat discovery as I miss reading print editions of news in English.
The other more noteworthy realization from my airport visit was the unexpected sight of a few people I know. I was sitting on a bench outside of the airport journaling a bit when I heard a familiar voice and looked up to see Rut, one of the guys from my soccer ministry. He sat down next to me and started to chat for a while. He was carrying a wooden device which took me a moment to recognize as a shoe shining stand. I asked him how business was and he said it was a Monday and so a slow day, not much business. As we continued to chat two other guys that I know from soccer/the neighborhood stopped by and sat down, Johnny and Felipe. We talked some trash about our big Coaches vs. Players game we have tomorrow and about the shoe shining business. These guys come to the airport every day after school for four or five hours and said on a good day they can make $20USD which is quite a good amount of money considering minimum wage here is about $200USD/month. They said they can make about $1.50 a client and on a good day shine the shoes of 20 or 30 clients. (It made me think back to my parents visit to Mexico City when my dad was conned into a $40 shoe shine.) As the guys ran off abruptly from our conversation (I think because they saw a policeman) I thought to myself what an interesting sight. A middle class white guy from the US sitting on a bench at the São Paulo airport with 3, 13-14 year old shoe shiners and not having his shoes shined, but talking to them as friends and being surprised at their occupation. I then realized that most of the kids that shine shoes and sell little pieces of candy are kids I know from my favela or one of the surrounding favelas. My experiences here are really helping me to redefine how I see people that sell things on the street or who are homeless. As I throw a tennis ball back and forth (being caught with one of those round Velcro “gloves”) in the midst of a business walking intersection of the city, I too was struck at the strangeness of the sight. Most people walking by seemed to be businessmen either ignoring completely the antics of the street kids or looking on them with disgust. I now see them as friends and the shoe shine guys too. I think I will never be able to see people the same on the street and I think that’s a good thing.
A minor note, the latest fad in my favela is the homemade bomb, a very powerful firecracker that would definitely do some damage if it went off in your hand. All day yesterday the sound of the explosions filled the favela. One time right next to the window I was standing next time causing me to jump and even be pushed back a little. I feared the glass would break, but luckily it didn’t. Just as I was thinking that its odd that no one ever complains about the 24/7 loud music and now the bombs going off two women simultaneously came out of their house and started to yell at a couple of the guys (my age) who were setting the bombs off. The guys responded that they lived in a favela, what could they expect, people that live in a favela are like this and she had better get used to it. I was struck by the defeatism of the whole thing. There is a word in Portuguese enfavelado, which means someone that lives in a favela and doesn’t really know anything outside of the favela. It is a sad and pessimistic culture which calls for low expectations; an acceptance of your favela dwelling and poverty as a permanent condition and as a result a culture of today, which glorifies drinking, drugs and criminal activity with no thoughts for the future. Its a sad reality and one I pray for often, I pray for my boys, my friends, that they might have the courage to look to something greater, to an eternal city, not an earthly one and in the process to be able to overcome the plethora of vices and traps in the favela to grow up to be successful and honorable fathers and husbands.

Is it still Thanksgiving if no one else knows it is? Thanksgiving o jeito brasileiro (Thanksgiving Brasilian Style)

I woke up early Thanksgiving morning not to the smell of turkey and gravy, but to the 6:15 ringing of my alarm clock. I brushed my teeth, threw some water on my face and made my way downstairs. We had our usual coffee/hot chocolate and bread for breakfast, shared our prayer requests and prayed together as usual. Then I did my laundry and made my way to the center of the city to have lunch at a friend’s house. I sat around a big table with about 10 people and we ate the usual rice and beans with some chicken and broccoli. The house is a big one that was donated to a ministry called Toque that works with prostitutes, transvestites, street kids, homeless people and drug addicts. As we sat down to eat I casually mentioned to my American friend who was with me that this wasn’t the typical Thanksgiving dinner, but that it was good none the less and we were thankful for friends and food. We explained to them the holiday and the importance of it in the US and then talked about things we were thankful for. Then they showed me pictures of a party they had thrown for the transvestites they work with and talked about the pain and sadness of so many of them and the rare smiles on their faces to know someone cares enough about them to throw them a party. As we watch the pictures and then the video of them singing worship songs I am struck by the wonder of the kingdom of heaven, how God could love people that are so unlovable like ourselves. I then come to know that one of the guys sitting on the coach next to me who was also a lunch guest is a former transvestite who is temporarily staying at the house while he is trying to find work and figure his life out.
We then head out to the streets, we walk all around the city and I am amazed at how many of the people that live on the streets the ministry workers know. It seems every street kid, homeless guy and drug addict knows them and they call each other by name. It strikes me that every one of them has a name and a story and how easy it is to walk past and entirely ignore them, treat them almost as subhuman. We then go to this plaza where we usually find the street kids and after talking to some of the older ones head off in search of the young ones. After walking around the city for about a half an hour to several different spots, stopping along the way to talk to various people, we decide that the kids won’t be found today and head off to another ministry/church in the center to pick up their medical kit and head to cracklandia. I had heard stories about this place, but none of them prepared me for what I saw. One moment we were in a seemingly nice part of town and the next moment it seemed another planet. It seemed like something out of a movie, a city that has suffered a nuclear attack, or a zombie infested neighborhood, I just couldn’t wrap my head around the reality of the situation. There were probably about a 100 people in a big herd together, most everyone smoking a cigarette or with a crack pipe. Most people looked zombified, clearly under the influence of crack. Kids as young as 7 or 8 smoking crack and a pregnant lady with a shirt that no longer fit her, lipstick smudged across her face, a short skirt, her belly exposed protruding from her clothing that no longer fit her, a crack pipe in hand mumbling something to herself.
The scene was almost too much for me, I didn’t know what to do or how to react. I couldn’t believe that I was still on the same planet, much less the same city. It seems like a place I might expect to find in Africa or some other place that suffers from much more extreme poverty and hardship. Hundreds of people living on the streets, just huddling around hoping to get one of the many rocks of cocaine that are being sold all over the place and living from one high to the next. People stand in one place in a huddle, some buying crack, some smoking it, others puffing on a cigarette and then some policemen on horseback who until then had just been observing the people chase the people off of one stoop and unto the next one or across the street. Then a store owner comes with a stick and threatens to hit someone yelling at them to get away from his store, a scene I have seen hundreds of times, but always with dogs and not human beings. As the crowd settles in front of an abandoned building I notice a pvc pipe running across the front of the building with little holes in the pipe and wonder what that could possibly be for, but I quickly realize as water begins to fall from it that it is a device designed to keep people away. Water begins to fall on the crowd who slowly react and move to the next spot. So it seems is their life, get up, buy crack, get chased by the police, move, smoke crack, get chased by a storeowner, buy some more crack, get chased by the police again, smoke some more crack, have water thrown on them, move to the next corner, buy yet more crack, smoke one last rock and then go to sleep.
Walking through the streets people recognize and say hi to the heavily tattooed, big Brasilian guy who would at first glance be more likely in a motorcycle gang or a tattoo artist than a missionary. He begins to talk to people and ask if anyone has any medical needs, we clean various wounds and bandage them up, one lady shows us where she was stabbed with a knife and we do our best to clean and bandage the wound, but encourage her to go to the hospital. Then some guy comes up and asks the guy with me to remove his stitches, which he proceeds to do. As the people are being treated a relationship is being built. Over time they talk of Jesus and of another way, of rehabilitation and how they don’t need crack to be happy. The people are encouraged to go to the casa amarelo (the yellow house) to get a hot meal, a shower a bit of time off the street. There they can find rehabilitation if they want it and find people who love God and who love them. As we are about to leave b/c we are running low on medical supplies I hear someone speaking in English with a South African accent, a friendly looking guy introduces himself to me as Warren. He tells me that it’s a good thing I’m doing, an experience that I need to have in life, one that will make me grow and then says that he too is a son of God, that he is a brother, and a missionary too. He says that we are missionaries on the outside coming in to help, but that he’s on the inside, that his thing is crack, that his new experience is crack. He says it so matter-of-factly as if he were saying that he liked football or something, he then briefly says that he was a business man in São Paulo, that his family in South Africa is rich and that a business transaction here went wrong and he lost his life savings (by his description of something getting confiscated at the airport, I’m guessing it was something illegal). After losing his life savings he said he went to the streets with $3,000, found crack and has been an addict every since.
As I return to my community house I am struck by how my definition and perspective of the world continues to be transformed, how my definitions of poverty and needs continue changing. As I become more like a regular community member here I begin to get used to favela life, I am no longer too surprised by anything here and although there is definitely poverty, most everyone has their basic needs met and has a little extra money for a few other things. After witnessing this new place I realize that the people in my neighborhood aren’t so bad off after all. My world continues to change and be shaken. I still don’t feel like I know my place in the world; I know that there is so much brokenness and injustice, but also that there is a God who cares, who suffers as he sees what we do to ourselves and to each other. I realize the pain of God’s omniscience and omnipresence as he has to see every sin, every evil thing that is done, every child kidnapped into a militia and forced to kill, every woman raped, every baby left alone on the street to die, every business man obsessed with money and greed exploiting his workers, every desperate drug addict doing anything to find his next high, he sees this terrible broken unjust world and must feel so much pain and sadness. The fact that he knowing all this would still send his own son to pay for all these sins and to one day bring us back to himself is just humbling.
To finish my Thanksgiving I return to my house as game night is just starting, about 10 adolescents are playing ping pong, jenga or uno and greet me on my entrance. I play with them for an hour or so and then leave for my weekly Thursday night soccer game from 10:30-midnight. Returning home I am tired from a long, but good day, it certainly wasn’t thanksgiving US style with a big turkey, lots of food , family and football, but it was a good day. I realize how much I have to be thankful for, I realize how great our God is, how deep his love for us must be and I am thankful for the opportunities I have to learn to love like he does, to learn to hate injustice like he does and to be a repairer of the breech and a restorer of streets to live in. (Isaiah 58)

Drug Dealers and the Kingdom of God

As I sit here and reflect on my time here and on my community the all too familiar smell of marijuana fills the air of my patio overlooking the favela. That smell and the metaphorical wreak of the drug traffic fill this community; each day as I walk enter and leave the favela (slum) I walk past the same two guys that are selling drugs on the corner. One guy usually is sitting up a little higher (the pathway out of the favela slants up) waiting for cars to slow down on their way by and he asks them what they want and collects their money. The other guy, usually waiting further into the favela then comes up with the drugs and the car speeds off. They do this for obvious reasons of keeping the drugs as far away from the street as possible so if the police come they will not find the drugs. As I had previously commented the favela itself is a labyrinth of walkways, one who doesn’t live in the favela would quickly become lost and it is easy for someone to run away and hide in any number of places. I comment on the drug dealers because every day as I walk by them I find myself hoping that the police will come and take them away, find myself wishing that they would be thrown into jail and stay there forever. These guys are about my age, maybe a bit younger and sell drugs there for about $20/day which here is about twice the normal day’s wage. I don’t know why I feel such animosity for them every time I pass them, but I guess it is because I feel like they are a disease that infests and is destroying the community I now call home. I am now however realizing that they are not the disease, but mere symptoms of the larger problem of the vast injustice and sin of this world. I realize that if they had the opportunities to have good education (instead of the terrible 4 hours a day public education) or a well paying job they would much rather earn a living that way. I realize that it is largely the rich people that surround this community that keep the drug trafficking alive, those that roll by in their fancy cars and buy their drugs and leave. I realize the drug dealers are as much victims of the injustices of the world as anything. Today as I was returning from a house visit of a family in another favela I had to pause entering the favela as I noticed these same two guys who usually look very serious selling drugs or arrogantly dancing, drinking and singing were instead innocently smiling as they flew a kite between the electric wires and houses. It was in that moment that I realized that I had been so eager to judge them, to sentence them to a lifetime of prison, when it is they who are also kids and deserve another chance. More often than not they are the brothers of the younger kids who I play with nearly every day and spend much time with. I realize they are lost sheep without a shepherd, most have never had a positive role model in their lives and are doing the only thing they know. I realize my anger towards them is misguided that I am angry at the hostage instead of the kidnaper. I realize that my anger is justifiable, but is wrongly aimed, my anger should be with the injustice of the world, with the pain and the torment; I need to cry out to God to rain his justice down on my neighborhood and to bring healing to my community.
Just as I was thinking this over I was stopped by a guy a bit younger than me who I had played some soccer with and he asked me how I was doing and said he heard that we came in second in that tournament (he had played the first Saturday, but missed the second one). We ended up talking for about an hour about futebol, basketball and a myriad of other subjects when he got a phone call and I noticed his luxurious phone and listened to his phone call which was clearly an order for drugs to come to some location. I then came to understand that he is one of the leaders of the drug traffic along with previously mentioned Giló (who I occasionally talk to now, actually seems like a pretty friendly and intelligent guy). This guy whose name is Stallone is so nice, incredibly welcoming, a great soccer player, articulate and seems to have big dreams, he is also a drug dealer. Another guy Claudio, is in his 50’s just got out of jail for a 35 year sentence of killing a police officer when he was a like 16 years old who is also involved in the drug trade. He was the first person to every say hi to me in the favela, he welcomed me here, said he was glad to have me here and said that I had a good heart to come and live and serve in this community. He said he wanted to have a heart like me too. When I met him I thought he was the friendliest guy and then I come to find his background. I am realizing that drug dealers are God’s children too, they are people too, they are sinners just like me and need the same redemption that I need. I am learning not to look at them as evil drug dealers, but to look at them as people, as Stallone, Giló, Claudio and Lucas. I am learning to pray for them and not wish harm on them and to hope that God can use them to bring change to this world. Even as I write this I realize that it was perhaps the drug dealers of the day (tax collectors, emblems of an empire gone wrong, just like a drug dealer today) that were welcomed into the kingdom even forming part of Jesus’ circle of friends. I realize that change can come to this community, but only by the grace of God and the power of prayer. I ask that you would join with me, to pray for these guys, these friends who are caught up in drug trafficking, I would ask that you would pray for healing and the breaking of the bonds of oppression of drug dealing here. I pray that God might use me in some way to bring this change in the life of one of those guys, that they might be able to see that there is more to life than the temporary power and money of the drug dealing, that there is something bigger out there, something actually worth dying for that they should be living for.

Camp!!! White water rafting!!!

I am just arriving home from our 4 day camp for the Radicais (Radicals, the kids/teen group from our community). We went to a place about 2 hours outside of the city, but still in the state of São Paulo. I left for the camp early to help set up a zip line and a nature trail with an obstacle course to simulate their arrival to camp as if it was their arrival to Babylon. We studied the first four chapter of the book of Daniel seeing how God used Daniel and friends to change the empire. We focused on our commitment to God, prayer and love for God. I was really encouraged by the stories, it seems each time I really take the time to dig into the Hebrew scriptures (also known as the old testament) I find such rich and encouraging stories of God's faithfulness to his people. Daniel was such an inspiring figure as he ministered to 4 Babylonian kings and made a real impact on Babylon. On the first day we read about when Daniel refused to eat the kings food challenging that God's food was better for your health than the king's food. I challenged the 3 teenage guys (Afonso, Pedro, Erick) in small group to take that lesson to heart with sexuality, I think they were surprised I brought up the conversation, but I challenged them to challenge their friends and not live like everyone else, but to know that God's ways are better, that God knows what we need and set rules for us to protect us, not to keep us from fun. We continued talking about the power of prayer and love for God and I think they were really challenged by the life of Daniel.

We also got a chance to go white water rafting. We ended up paying next to nothing for the trip as the place that took us was amazingly generous and kind. I really enjoyed the experience. I had a long conversation with our river guide and was really happy how my Portuguese pretty much let me say whatever I wanted to say, he said he had thought I had been in Brasil for a long time. (still worrying about losing my spanish though) Our boat ended up flipping on the big rapid at the end which for me was a cool experience, but there were two pretty little girls on our boat who were really panicked, I managed to grab them and pull them up to the guys who were helping get people out of the water, then one of them fell again and was about to hit her head on a rock and go back into the water, but I managed to grab her foot and pull her back up. Now I really want to do some more serious and more difficult rafting as I had such a good time. The coolest thing though was to see the smiles on their faces. These kids don't often get a chance just to be kids and to see unabashed joy on their faces throughout the camp was amazing.

It was great to get to know some of the kids better, especially some of the older guys. One of the guys really shared his heart with the group and brought me to tears. He thanked everyone for the camp and said that at that moment he felt truly happy, that its not often that he could say that, but he appreciated the few moments. This guy, Danilo, has an amazing heart, he loves God and you can see it, but he definitely has a rougher side, he happens to be an amazing free style rapper and showed off his talents the last night of the camp as he did some free style and then took some popular Brasilian songs about drugs and sex and changed the lyrics to be about God. His mom spent a long time in prison and he is constantly faced with the reality of that and of the weight of the drug traffic all around him. He lives in the neighboring favela that is constructed mainly of 4X4's and plywood. I would ask for prayer for Danilo as he continues to try to figure out what it looks like to be a man of God. The juxtaposition of the situation of these kids and my childhood are astounding. When I was in Sunday school we talked about temptations and problems, but they were really so small and not that significant compared to these kids. Pretty much every kid has a brother/sister/mom/dad or cousin in jail, normally because of drug trafficking, they often have to deal with death in the family and absentee father and the weight of having to be the man of the house at 14 and 15 years old. There is a constant temptation for the easy money and status of the traffickers and the lure of alcohol and women to numb the pain of the reality of their lives away.

It is really a privilege to be able to work with them and be a friend and an encouragement for them. They are such special kids who are so much stronger than I ever had to be as a child. They have seen and experienced so many things that no kid should have to. Each and every kid could tell a story about how they had to overcome so much to follow God and I fear for all the little ones, to know the challenges that face them ahead. But, I also know that God loves and takes care of each of them and that if they can remember that, cling to that, then they will be able to make it through the storm. I was just struck this weekend at how precious each and everyone of their lives is. I'm tired and so thats all for now, thanks for all your prayers and support, love and miss you all.


You can check out more pics from camp here

some more rafting pics too

all the guys from the house

Fabio and I working the zipline

I was the braking system in the zipline i helped build for the camp

my small group, from left to right Pedro, Erick, Afonso

white water rafting!


check out my face as the boat flips

helping the little girls get out of the water

An Obama aside

Most of you probably know my political thoughts and I'd like to say that I called it a long time ago. I wish I had put money on it when the odds where like 500-1, I knew he'd be the next president the moment I finished reading the Audacity of Hope. However you feel about the election it was certainly an historic event. I've read a lot of Brasilian newspaper and magazine articles and translated a few headings and quotes from the articles I thought interesting, just to see the foreigners perspective on the American election and the American democracy.

"Now, at the dawn of the 21st century with the election of Obama, the United States offers the spectacle of its own sublimity. In the space of a little more than a generation, the country has continued to overcome its deaf racism and legalized segregation in several states, a process which culminated in the euphoric acceptance of a black man as the supreme commander of the nation. Barack Hussein Obama has a name, political biography and family history that just a few years ago would've scared any American voter. Last week, 64 million Americans voted for him. With the eyes of the world watching, this triumphed the reconquest by the US as the moral authority based on equal opportunity for all, a fundamental principle of the true revolutionary experience inaugurated by Thomas Jefferson, John Adams and Ben Franklin in 1776 in Philadelphia."

"The Americans showed that equality is a value that they practice freely, and not just because the law says that they are all equal."

"Obama, the answer!"

"He showed uncommon talent and noble ideas. His victory reaffirms the American power to renew their country and surprise the world."

"Obama proves hope is stronger than fear."

"Does the election of Obama prove the theory of American exceptionalism? You may doubt it but they have raised the bar for anti discrimination for the rest of the world."

"The true test would be if Brasil could elect an Argentinian as president."

Street kids, a preschool zoo visit and a futsal campeonato

Hey all, this week was easily the most encouraging and best week of my two (eek, how time flies) short months here. I am seeing how it takes time to really establish a ministry and am learning to have patience, realize the limitations of my short time here and take advantage of the time and moments that I have. This week was great as I was very busy and felt like I was meeting lots of people and doing some cool things. On Wednesday I went to a leadership meeting for the ministry that has a service on Sunday nights where I have been attending and is also the ministry through which the soccer ministry I work with is run through. I enjoyed going to that meeting and getting to now some of the leadership better. One of the guys who started the soccer ministry had been in Asia for the past month on a soccer evangelism tour, he took a team of former Brasilian professionals and played against national teams in Vietnam, Malaysia and Thailand (they won all the games even know their average age was probably in the late 30's. He played professional indoor soccer in the US.

On Thursday I went downtown to work with a ministry for street kids, i was invited by an American missionary friend who is about my age named Tim. We met up with a Brasilian missionary named Caetano who works with a really neat mission that works with street kids, prostitutes, transvestites, drug dealers, drug users, basically all the most marginalized people in society. I am hoping to become more involved with their ministry. On Thursday we mainly worked with the street kids. They are mostly aged 10-16 or so and live on the streets with no family or parents in sight. They live there because they want to not so much because they have no other options. The kids pretty much all had old plastic coke bottles with a glue type substance that they sniffed and the smell of glue was pretty strong in the air, they kids passed around cigarettes from one to the other, it was so hard to see such young kids doing such destructive things. We brought a jump rope, puzzles and various other games and just played with them, talked with them and laughed with them, i think just trying to remind them that they are still kids. They visit the same kids every week and try to encourage them to leave the streets, but most of them just don't want too. I'm excited for the possibilities to work further with this neat ministry.

On friday all my stick shift driving abilities were put to the test as I had to drive an old VW conversion van full of 10 preschoolers and 4 other adults to the Zoo. There are lots of hills in the city, but I am learning to drive more effectively and enjoyed spending time with the kids and was glad to not get lost or stall out. Friday night we had another meeting for our kids camp coming up this week and tomorrow some of us will be going to the camp ground to finish some last minute details to get the place ready for the kids on Thursday (this thursday and friday are holidays here in the city). On Saturday we had a Futsal tournament with 8 teams, mostly of people my age and older. We brought a team with an average age of probably 17 or so and managed to get second place. I know its sounds dumb, but playing soccer well helps me feel like I earn the respect of these kids and am able to reach them more effectively. Perhaps that is all in my head, but whatever the case it was good to get to know some of the "rougher" kids in my neighborhood that would never really come to our community house or any other church activity. I didn't really play at all in our first two games and played kinda poorly when I did. In the last game we started losing 3-0 in about 5 minutes because they had one big guy that kept scoring all their goals. I came into the game and for the rest he didn't score any, I managed two goals of my own and we just fell short of our come back, but I was glad for the experience. One of the guys then came to our house for the Saturday night church service, I think it was the first time he had ever come, so I was really excited for that. Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers I will try to continue to keep you updated. Much love and God bless

here's a few pics you can check out the rest here

Found some internet

I wrote this a few days ago, but just found internet, hopefully will have another post on the weekend, much love to all and God bless.

It coming up on two months since I arrived here and I’m starting to get the hang of things, my Portuguese is progressing quite well. My new fear is that it is coming along too well and that I will forget Spanish in the process. I know it sounds a bit crazy, but the two have so much in common that I fear it will be too easy to mix them and I will be left speaking Portuñol. I continue getting to know my community better and feel more comfortable walking through the favela. I continue to see Giló on a regular basis, but he hasn’t again showed signs of demonic possessions. My community house continues to fast and pray for him and know that only God can bring true change to him and to our community. As I grow closer to the people in my community house its beginning to feel more like home here. I was talking with someone yesterday and he asked me where my home was and I told him I wasn’t sure where it was, that I have many and at the same time none here on this earth. It’s a curious thing to feel this way, I realize that parts of my heart are in so many places and only one day arriving in God’s presence will I find my true home, true peace and Shalom that God promises.

I continue to work Tuesday-Friday with the futsal (sort of indoor soccer) ministry, it has been cool to get to know the guys better, kick the ball around with them, get to know them better, and share with them a little about why I am here and the hope that is in me. I still feel like it’s difficult to have a really deep conversation with someone in Portuguese, but little by little I am getting there. I am struck by the fact that even though so many of my new friends live in houses made from scrap wood they have found on the side of the road, constructed on land that doesn’t belong to them and that they “invaded”, have very little money and small chance of a college education I see them as friends and peers. It is interesting to me that so far I have connected far more with the people from my neighborhood than the people from the middle class church I attend. I think I feel resentful that someone could attend a middle class church a stone’s throw from a favela (squatter/slum community) and not really know anyone from the community, not really care that people live like that. Every time I go for a walk around my neighborhood I am struck by the contrast of wealth and poverty. My community is less than a mile from the domestic airport and located on a principle avenue of the city. It is surrounded by high rise apartments that have condo fees of upwards of a $1,000/month (that’s not rent, that is if you own the place). People live in high rise apartments because they are afraid of someone breaking into their house and the apartments provide more security. Just yesterday right outside of the favela someone stole a car of a person driving by. They blocked off the road, forcing the person to stop and then at gunpoint forced the person out of the car and sped off with the vehicle.

The level of fear here that the rich have of the poor is very high, the thought for most of entering a favela, much less living in one brings fear to their hearts. They accept the occasional favela dweller that chooses to come to their church, but will rarely enter into their world. I think it has really opened my eyes to similar occurrences in the US. It is still difficult to wrap my US mind around the fact that people can just invade a piece of land, build some shacks on it and a few shacks eventually grow into a huge plot of land with thousands of squatters. Most of them are not thriving financially, but nor are they starving. The average person might make $200/month, all of which is spent on food and other household necessities, the average favela dwelling family seems to have a TV and a refrigerator even if its inside of a wooden lean-to. Even the poor here in Brasil are much better off than the poor in a place like Africa or various parts of Asia. Though there is a definitely a culture of complacency; I was born enfavelado (in a slum) and so forever I will be enfavelado. Just the fact that such a word exists in the language shows the extent of that attitude. One of the guys, William, I have gotten to know from the soccer ministry is 15 years old and is soon to become a father and will probably drop out of school and work full time to earn about $200/month to support his girlfriend and new child. He’s a bright kid and a great soccer player, but his life is going to be tough. Another guy, André, is only 16 and is already living with his girlfriend with a child and is the head of his household. At 16 he is clearly just a kid, but is already responsible for feeding his family and struggles to balance the tasks of adulthood and providing for his family.

The public school system here seems to be abysmal. Kids go to school for only 4 hours a day and most talk of the incompetency of the teachers. Even for young child school seems to be optional, the kids go when they want and stay home when they don’t. Most parents do not play an active role in their child’s education and stand on the sidelines as their kids fail out of school or simply stop going. A very small percentage of children that live in favelas graduate from high school and a microscopic number of kids would get a college education. Most people do not see college as something to aim for, there seems to be no “Brasilian dream” of working hard and moving up the ladder. Most guys at 16 or so start working making a minimum wage and continue to work for the rest of their lives. It’s a life that is so foreign to mine, I realize how spoiled I have been by my upbringing and how spoiled I continue to be with all the options that await me.

Next weekend, November 20th -23rd we have our Radicais (Radicals, kids club run through my community house) end of the year camp. We are still trying to raise money so that as many kids as possible can go, I would ask for prayer for the money to come in and for the kids to be changed by the camp. It is a rare moment for them to get out of the favela, out of the city and see the country side. I will write more about the camp next week. As December approaches I am making plans for Christmas and then the summer month of January (here it is moving into summer now and the month of January is a holiday month for everyone. I have several different ministry possibilities in other cities (which are a bit expensive because I would have to fly) and I would pray for wisdom to decide which ministry I should be involved in. Thanks for all your prayers and support. God bless.




you can see some more pics at:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2333534&l=eb48f&id=5706269
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2334304&l=a0006&id=5706269

Está na chuva…é para se molhar (You’re in the rain...its to get wet)

I was talking to Fabio, one of the guys I share a room with and quickly becoming a close friend and we were talking about life and ministry and the difficulties and challenges of them both and he told me this saying and I kinda liked it. I think sometimes we want to have our cake and eat it too when it comes to missions and our relationship with God, we want all the good things, all the positive things, but without the struggles. I think back to my Intervarsity manuscript studies of the book of Mark, the first half of the book is largely about Jesus performing miracles, healing people and proclaiming the good news. It is a Jesus that is easy to believe in and seemingly easy to follow. Everyone he touches is healed and everything seems to come up roses, but then comes the moment in Mark 8 when God asks the disciples who he is and Peter steps up and answers correctly that he is the Messiah, Jesus in turn replies that the Messiah must suffer, be killed and rise again after 3 days. Peter, seemingly smug with his first answer rebukes Jesus and tells him he mustn’t do that. Jesus responds with “Get behind me Satan”. I think so often we seek to worship and follow Jesus but ignore his command to “Take up the cross and follow me”. I think of Bonheoffer when he says that the Lord bids us come and die and in that we find that we can live.
This past week has been a full one with lots of ups and downs, struggles and blessings. I continue to get to know the guys from soccer better and it’s been really neat to see them start to respond to the gospel message. There is a good possibility that John (missionary who connected me here at the community house), a seminary student and I are going to start a new work in the favela where the soccer guys live. It is a favela that struggles more and probably has more problems and more extreme poverty. It’s kinda crazy how the definition of poverty is such a relative thing. The more I get to know the favela I live in and the surrounding areas the more I am just amazed that people can live the way they do. Favelas are just areas where people invaded land that didn’t belong to them and just started living there. In my favela pretty much all the houses are made of a really low quality brick, but are much sturdier than many other favelas which are constructed largely from scrap wood that people managed to find. It’s crazy to understand how people can live this way, knowing that any day the government could come and basically kick them off the land. It’s a strange way that the legality of the place works, because in my favela there is legal government sponsored electricity and even people have addresses, so there is some government recognition of limited rights of dwellers, but ultimately they have no real rights to the land. It is also interesting to note that even most people who live in what could best be described as wooden shacks often have washing machines, refrigerators and televisions. It simple amazes me that people who sleep 3 or 4 to a bed would have these items, but it is just a different way to look at money.
I continue to play soccer on Thursday nights with some guys from my church and other Mennonite churches in the city. It’s been cool to become friends with some of the guys and feel like I’m one of the best players there, I know it sounds funny, but it helps me to feel like I fit in with the culture and feel better adjusted simply by being able to play soccer well. My language abilities continue to improve (though I am a bit worried that my Spanish speaking is getting worse as it’s so easy to mix the two languages). The past two Sundays the people from the house have attended a Brasilian Chinese church where most of the service is in Portuguese but translated into Mandarin Chinese. It’s been interesting getting to know some of the people from the church and being able to see the diversity of the world church.
On Friday night we had our monthly prayer vigil, we had been fasting during the week for Giló (the demon possessed guy) and would ask for your continued prayers for him. We talked a lot about missions and going to the ends of the earth. The floor of the main common area of the house has a mosaic map of the earth and we talked about taking God’s love to places where there is no light and we prayed well into the night. It was a pretty amazing night of prayer and worship and I felt God’s presence there. I would ask for prayer for the people of my house who are all in process of finding God’s will for their lives, most feel a call to missions and are in the process of support raising and anxious to get to the field. (will write later more about Brasilian missionaries) On Saturday we had our Radicais em Cristo (Radicals in Christ, which is the sort of kids club run out of the house every week) on Saturday and our theme was being a Radical in the church. We read about Jesus flipping over the tables in the temple and declaring that His house was to be a house of prayer for all the peoples of the earth. I pray that that day might come where the church might truly be that, might truly seek to be a place of healing and prayer for the nations. The rest of the afternoon we had them divided into various groups to be in charge of the Saturday night service we have in the house. There was a drama group, a choir and a worship team made up of the kids (age 5-12) and then I took the teens and taught them a skit. It was a skit we used in Mexico that I translated into Portuguese about the body of Christ. On Saturday night they all showed up to the house, many with parents and the place was standing room only, it was amazing to see the kids excitement at being up front and participating in the service. There are two more weeks of the Radicais group before the end of the year camp, please pray for the kids to get there verses said and do what they need to do to be eligible to attend camp and for the funds to come in to allow the camp to happen as well as all the planning that needs to take place to make the camp a success. Thanks again for all your prayers and support, I love and miss you all!

Pictures to come shortly.

Moving into the House! and new meaning for Mark 9

So I wanted to start again by thanking everyone for all their prayers and support. After a little over a month here I will be finally moving into the community house (Casa Esperança) on Tuesday to stay there for the next 5 months. I felt compelled to share the following story with you and would ask for your prayers for Buraco Quente (literally hot hole, figuratively hell hole) where I will be staying. I am a bit afraid to take pictures there so I haven't yet, but maybe I can steal some from someone else who lives there. I wrote this story down right after it happened and here is what I wrote:

Wow, I've never seen anything like that and my heart is still beating a few beats too fast. I was working on the plan for Radicais Teens (the bible club for older kids run through my community house) when Valdir (late twenties, been married 2 years, him and his wife are considered the pastors/leaders of the house and plan on staying there long term) came to me and said something that I didn't quite understand I knew something was wrong with somebody in the community and need prayer, but I didn't understand the word for what was wrong with him. We went downstairs and we prayed as a group and still that one word tripped me up and I didn't understand what was going on. I walked out of the house with Everton (another one of the guys that lives in the house, mid 20's and engaged, hoping to go to India or China as a missionary with his soon to be wife) and Valdir, not knowing what to expect. We walked through the small plaza in the middle of the favela and everything raced through my mind about what might be wrong and then as we turned one of the many corners in the labyrinth that is the favela I saw him, I immediately knew why we were there, my heart stopped. Blood spilled from the side of his head, I later learned it came when just before we got there he smashed a brick on his head. As he walked towards the three of us I noticed that there was something about the way he walked that just didn't seem human.



I can't explain it, I've never seen anything like it before. He approached us grumbling words that I couldn't understand, not sure if it was Portuguese or just nonsense. He approached Everton, got in his face and said something about our God being weak, he then stared at Valdir and then into my eyes. I froze I did not know what to do. I felt like the disciples in Mark 9, just completely unable to know what to do. I was scared for my physical well being and just felt a spiritual weight I've never before experienced. He continued shouting how God was powerless and that he was working for God's adversary. He moved around almost on all fours, moving in a Gollum like fashion. Blood continued to drip down his face as he gathered a group of candles in his hand, the candles were red on the top and black on the bottom. He slammed his lighter on the ground in his closed fist and began lighting the candles. Again I couldn't really make out what he was saying, but is movements continued to be from another world. He again got up into Everton's face, gave him a light headbutt and just stared him down. I tried my best not to let the terror that was in my soul be seen in my face as I began to pray for him, pray for the demon to leave him.



I went over Mark 9 in my head, the verse came to my head where Jesus said, "Everything is possible for him who believes" and I found myself saying "I believe, help my unbelief." One image that sticks in my head was the look on Everton's face, he knew that there was something wrong, but he stared into the guy's eyes with no fear, confident in the power of God to protect him. I continued to pray through my doubts and fears, I didn't really have the words to say, but I was praying all the same. The guys began slamming his hand on the ground and licking his dirty bloodied hand. At this point quite a crowd had gathered, keeping their distance, peaking around the twists and turns of the labyrinth that is the favela to see what would happen. I continued to pray, I don't think I've ever been further out of my comfort zone. I had tried to keep a low profile in the favela, going about my ministry with the kids, but trying not to draw too much attention as there had been some problems with foreigners in the favela; whatever there might have been of the low profile was most certainly gone. I felt helpless and felt like I was in a different world. My Portuguese just didn't seem to come to me and I was just unsure of what was happening before my very eyes and so I just continued to pray. Valdir told me several times to restrain the guy (or at least I think that is what he said), but I was afraid that could go awry and remembered from the Bible that demon possessed people often have supernatural strength. I continued to pray as he picked up a brick and continued to yell that our God was not powerful.



My heart beat continued to grow louder and I felt like it might leave my chest. I felt so untested, so blind to the spiritual world, so unequipped to deal with such a thing, inept to do anything but mutter a few words of a simple prayer. I was standing right next to him, about an arm's length, he with brick in hand and I unsure of his intentions. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, but felt like I should be there ready to act. He lifted the brick in the air, ready to launch it, continuing to stare at Everton who remained stoic, unflinching. He continued to say that Jesus had more power than that thing which possessed him, saying it was not him (Everton), but Jesus who had the power. He shouted that this spirit was not welcome here in this community, that it must leave and that Jesus had to power over him. Then the guys hand began to move and the brick smashed into the ground inches from my foot and the guy stepped back. Then an older lady (whom I later learned had similarly made a pact with the devil) stepped in front of him and the guy seemed to surrender before her. I didn't manage to understand what she said, unsure if it was even Portuguese. Then Everton, Valdir and I stretched our hands out over him and began to pray over him as he convulsed on the ground. He shook for about 15 seconds before getting up, looking dazed, as if he were just waking up and didn't know where he was.



Then he came over to the three of us and said we didn't have any power that a pastor already came once and couldn't cast this thing from him and added at the end "This is me speaking as myself now."

He then walked off with a woman who I think was his mom asking for a glass of water and to take a bath. As the three of us (Valdir , Everton and I) turned and walked back to the house passing many a curious onlooker and felt such an unrest and unease in my heart. I later learned that this guy was named Giló and was once very involved in the church, but that now he was one of the leaders of the drug trafficking that goes on every day very openly in my neighborhood. Every day as I wind through the maze of the favela before going up a steep path to exit to a nearby road I pass a guy with a bag of various drugs and another guy with a big wad of cash in his hand. I learned that this particular guy was very powerful in the community and that he had made some sort of pact with the devil and had started to suffer from these sorts of possessions. We all returned to the house staring at each other and not speaking a word, we seemed to look deeply into each other's eyes and communicate more than words could have done. When finally someone else said a word we agreed that we needed to address this issue as a house and decided that prayer and fasting was the only way. I decided that I really need to be praying and in the word more. Seeing the enemy or some sort of representation of him just reinforced to me how powerful our God is and how much I need Him. I ask for your prayers for Giló, for all the drug traffickers and conusemers as well as strength, safety, wisdom, courage and protection for myself and my community house that we might truly be the Casa Esperança (house of hope) for our community.

One month and getting adjusted

Wow, so I can't believe its been nearly a month since I left the US to start my 11 month or so journey in various parts of Latin America. It hard to believe how time goes by so quickly. My camera has decided to not work correctly so for the time being I don't have any pictures to post, but I do have some ministry updates. First, I spent this weekend from Thursday till yesterday staying at the Casa Esperança (community house in the slum) and working with them for the whole weekend. On Thursday I went into the soccer ministry for the afternoon which went well and then returned to the house, helped one of the girls at the house runs some errands and pick up stuff for the next days events before returning to the hosue for a quick dinner before a community game night Around 15 kids and teens came over to the house to play Uno, Jenga, some card games and ping pong (a make shift net on the dining room table). It was fun and I continue to get to know the people better. I taught some of the kids how to play round robin on the ping pong table and they quickly learned the game and enjoyed running around the table and trying to hit the ball. Then on Thursday evening I went and played some midnight soccer with a bunch of people from my church and other local Mennonite churches. Its funny that I ended up going to a Mennonite church near the slum community the church is called (translated from its portuguese name) the Good News Christian Community and is one of several mennonite churches in Sao Paulo. I have been reading a lot about the anabaptist movements and especially about the quaker and mennonite traditions so it has been interesting to land in such a church (although on any given sunday morning it seems like a pretty typical middle class church, even though it neighbors a few slum communities there are also some wealthy to middle class apartment complexes in the same area). Back to the soccer, I went to the soccer game with Valdir who along with his wife are kinda the leaders of the community house, I was nervous to play soccer with real Brasilians and play as an adult (not as a kid when I play with the guys I'm coaching and can't play my hardest). I didn't know how my skills would hold up, but after I netted my first goal I got comfortable and at one point scored maybe 5 out of 6 goals scored and I think left for the night having scored near the most if not the most. It was cool to just feel accepted and that my soccer skills can carry over to Brasil (even if that night's competition wasn't all that strong). This sounds like an odd detail to write about, but for me it was an encouragement and great to meet a few more guys from the church (as I feel a lack of peer age guy fellowship). Then on Friday morning I skipped the soccer ministry to help out with the Kid's day (yup they have one here and I think in most of the world, while the US parent says every day is kids day, here they celebrate one in particular). I dressed up sort of like a clown and just helped out at a kids day party at the preschool run out of the community house for kids in the community. They even had a party bouncing trampoline thing, some typical Brasilian desserts and we watched Madagascar in Portuguese (which I for the most part understood). Then after a quick lunch with the rest of the preschool teachers I went off to soccer on Friday afternoon, returned back friday evening to go to a neighboring favela to remind some of the teens about the sunday youth group meeting. Friday night we had our in house Bible study which ended with a visit from someone who had never been to the house, but heard about it and came with her son who just got out of the hospital, she said she never was a Christian, but just wanted someone to pray for her son.
Saturday morning, I slept in a little (till like 8) and then got up to help plan the days events, help clean the house and then had our kids club on saturday afternoon, watched a movie with some of the kids afterwards and then prepared for our Saturday night community church service. Maybe some 25 people came to the service. Sunday morning I went to the mennonite church and then helped with the older kids group before returning to the missionaries house last night. It was a great weekend to spent at the house and I'm hoping to be able to move in there shortly.

Some other brief highlights from my 4 day stay in the house. Walking past the main place where they sell drugs and there is a bar a guy shouted something at me, I didn't understand him and kept walking until he repeated it and then I understood. He asked me if I was a missionary, I told him I was and we talked for a while, he welcomed me to the community and was happy I wanted to become a part of it, he told me I had a good heart and that he'd see me around (his name is Claudio, he's a really nice guy maybe in his mid 50's, drinks but not usually visably drunk and seems to know everyone, would ask for prayer for him). Also one time when I was coming home from soccer I must have seen like 5 or 6 kids walking through the labyrinth (more on that on a later entry, but basically its all a maze inside to confuse the police) of the favela I heard several voices yell out "hey tio" which means uncle and is an affectionate way to great people older than you. It felt great to walk through there and not feel scared, but to recognize some smiling faces. I will continue to keep you updated. Much love and God bless.

Jesus es meu amado, Jesus, nunca te deixarei

Hey all, i hope all is well with you. I continue to grow in my knowledge and understanding of the portuguese language and Brasilian culture, although I most certainly have a long way to go. I am still trying to define my ministry and figure out what exactly I'll be doing for the next 5+ months. This week I started working with a futsol (sort of indoor soccer, the world cup of futsol is being played in Brasil right now), its the most played sport here, much more popular than soccer on a big field because its played on a basketball sized field and is a 5v5 game. I am learning how to play and working as an assisant coach at the same time. The ball movement and defense seem more related to ice hockey than soccer and I'm getting the hang of it the more I watch and play. The ministry I'm working with has ballet classes, a computer lab, daily meals as well as a variety of soccer teams for kids from several neigboring favelas (slums) here in Sao Paulo. I am mainly right now working with kids from another favela (not the one with the community house I want to live in), its been neat getting to know the kids a bit, we start each practice with a miny Bible study and a prayer and then start training. John, the missionary I'm working with, seems to be thinking about starting a new community house in this favela and wants me to be one of the people to start it. The idea is pretty exciting although not exactly what I was expecting to do, the frustrating part about it is that I can only be here for 6 months and so even if it really took off I would have to leave in the middle of it all. I continue to work on Saturday and Sunday with the Casa Esperança (the house I thought I'd live in) working with both a kids and teenage group. I have enjoyed getting to know the people in the community house better as well as the kids and youth group. I find that conversations in Portuguese are getting easier although my vocabulary still leaves something to be desired. In one on one situations my understanding of the language is pretty high, but I still struggle to keep up in a situation where a lot of people are talking at once. I can get around on the buses now at least to the limited places I need to go and am hoping to have a chance to explore the city a bit more. I am attending a middle class mennonite church that is like a 5 minute walk from the community house and where several of the kids from the favela attend. I met the pastors of that church this week and hope to get involved some there too. Thanks for all your prayers and support. Much love and God bless.

Two week update

hey all, so its been two weeks since I left my house in the US and I just wanted to give another update of how things are going. I have spent a lot of my time staying at Misão Servos (the brasilian missions agency I am working with, they have missionaries currently in Mexico, India, China and Senegal). I have met several missionary candidates there and have been helping with the maintenance of the compound (maintaining a rather intricate well system, cleaning a big fish pond sort of thing, cleaning out rabbit cages, picking up dog, chicken, and various kinds of duck poop as well as feeding the animals and doing whatever I can to help out. I've been spending the weekends staying at the favela (slum) and working with the ministry there and continue to really just enjoy working with the the people there. There still seems to be some difficulty with me moving in there permanently so for now I spend the weekends there and am coping with not being there all the time. I will hopefully start working with a soccer ministry this week that uses a soccer training center for ministry to favela kids. I'm hoping to visit that favela today (its a neigboring one to the one I'll hopefully be living in) and start working with the ministry soon. Kinda funny to have an American teaching Brasilian kids to play soccer. Right now I am at the John's house (missionary I was in contact with) and might be staying here for a bit b/c his father in law is sick and so his wife went to be with him (she's Swiss) so i'm helping him out around the house and with the kids. I continue to ask for prayer for my ministry situation to become more defined as well as my living arrangement. Some days I feel great about my progress here with the language and culture and some days I feel kinda depressed. This is a terrible thing to say, but I miss being around people that speak the language worse than I do. Here I am only around native speakers or people that have been here for long enough to be near native level and so I feel like I am the only one that is struggling with the language which is difficult for me, but a humbling experience for sure. There is one guy in the ministry house, Fabio, who I have really connected with, he's a musical genius (taught himself the piano and guitar just by listening to music and learned english and spanish the same way). He's a great guy with a heart for God and a desire to minister in Mexico City. Its funny how here I have found two friends that want to go to Mexico City to be missionaries. Small world, anyways I gotta run, but just wanted to give a brief update. Much love and God bless.

Tudo bem in Brasil

Hey all, I finally got to a computer and have a few moments to write, I don't have a lot of time, but just wanted to thank you all for your continued prayers and support. I arrived in Brasil on Wednesday morning tired, scared and excited. After leaving my house at about 11am on Monday, getting to New York around 5pm or so and then leaving my friends apartment at about 3:30am to ride the New York metro for the first time ever to get to JFK airport. My flight left at 8am and I arrived in Bogota, Colombia around 2pm their time, I spent the next 8 or so hours waiting for my connection and took an overnight flight that landed in Sao Paulo at 5:30am, from there I took a bus to the domestic airport and met John, the guy I'd been emailing with their. Since then I have met a lot of people, messed up a lot in speaking Portuguese and continue being challenged as to what to do. I still feel a bit nervous at the prospects of being here for 6 months, but I know that God will provide for my needs and watch over me. I am currently staying at the retreat center/office of Misao Servos, which is a Brasilian organization related to the US organization Servant Partners. There I have a room to myself that has a few bunk beds in it and during the week I'll be helping maintain the grounds there, doing odd jobs and ministry with organization. I spent the weekend in the favela (slum) where I'll hopefully be working, its name in Portuguese means "hell hole", but it is actually now one of the nicer slums communities. Before it was all house made of plywood and cardboard and one of the most infamous slums in Sao Paulo, but after a fire burned it all down 5 years ago, it was rebuilt with brick and although definitely still a slum, there are certainly worse slums in the city. I say that I will hopefully work with them because recently there arose a problem with the idea of foreigners in the house as community members seem to have some resisitance to the idea, they have had a few European missionaries stay at the house and it seems a leading family in the community thinks they are somehow exploiting the community. Anyways, its a long story, but I would ask for prayer that things might be worked out there and that I might be able to move into the ministry house and continue to define what I'll be doing here for the next 6 months. My portuguese is coming along pretty well and I feel like I can have a conversation pretty effectively although sometimes I still struggle to understand people. I visited 2 churches on Sunday that are involved in the ministry and enjoyed both of them. My heart still beats a few beats too fast s I am still nervous about being here, speaking Portuguese and about what lies ahead, but I'm trying to trust God and know things will work themselves out. Today I went downtown for the first time and saw the center of the city, it is massive with an incredible amount of tall buildings, the skyline is like nothing I have ever seen, it looks very different from Mexico because it has so many tall skyscrapers (which don't exist in Mexico because of fear of earthquakes). It is all so overwhelming, a new big city, a new language and the uncertainty of where I will be ministering. I would ask for prayer for peace and contentment while I am here, for perseverance through difficult times, for wisdom for John and the Casa Esperanca (the community I will hopefully move into) as they decide how to proceed. I thanks you again for your prayer and support. Hopefully I will be able to get to a computer at some point and post some pictures (haven't taken any yet). Much love and God bless.

With fear and excitement I leave for Brasil

Well, the time has come and gone and I can't believe that the day is here. I can't believe that it has been over a year since I graduated from school and that I spent a year in México and now am off to Brasil. I am both excited and scared for what God has for me and what is in store. My heart races even as I write this and am not sure what to expect as I leave for Brasil. I will be leaving tomorrow with a friend to New Jersey then taking a bus to New York City, and then I'll be leaving on Tuesday morning from JFK airport and flying first to Bogota, Colombia and then to Sao Paulo, Brasil where I'll arrive on Wednesday morning around 5:30am, from there I'll be taking a bus from the international to the domestic airport and hopefully someone will be there to pick me up. It has just been such a blessing to see all the support I need come in and just be so blessed by all of you. This time at home has made me realize what amazing friends I have and how much I am going to miss all you guys. Much love and God bless.

Fundraising and preparing to leave

Hey all, thanks for all your prayers and support. I wanted to thank everyone that is supporting me with words of encourage, prayer and financial support. If anyone is interested in supporting me, let me know and I can tell you how you can. I will be leaving for Brasil on September 23rd and be in Brasil until March 17th, then on to Colombia for two months until May11th when I will return to México and there is a good possibility that I will spend the summer in Mexico City again as a leader for Spearhead. I have been enjoying my time here in the US visiting friends and family. This past weekend I spent with the family in Ocean City, NJ and look forward to seeing as many of you as possible in the next two weeks as I prepare to leave. Much love and God bless.

Brasil Bound (and Colombia too and then maybe back to México)

hey all, thanks so much for your continued prayers and support as I make transitions in my life. I had a great time in Guatemala with my brother and saw so many beautiful things and met so many beautiful people. It was interesting to talk to various of Pete's friends and just get to know Guatemalan history. It was neat to talk to various students and former students about their view of Guatemala, the civil war, social injustice and suffering there. I really feel like it opened my eyes to some of the pains of Central América and most of Latin América with dictatorships, coups and civil wars. I think its just hard for me to fathom the concept of civil war and a blatantly oppressive government, its just so far from my experience. Its amazing how that could become or is for so many people the norm and just part of their story and experience. It really just helped me to understand better some of the pain, doubts, struggles and pessimism that often pains Latin American politics and attitudes. While in Guatemala we also had the chance to visit this beautiful lake called Atitlan which was nice to just relax for a bit. We took kayaks out into the lake and it was just so gorgeous. On my way home from Guatemala, I was stopped in Houston by homeland security and interrogated and searched for like 20 minutes which made me miss my flight, but i eventually got home at 2am and have been home for about a week now. It has been great catching up with friends and family. I have finalized plans with Brasil and almost Colombia as well and perhaps back to Mexico to end it all. I will be in Sao Paulo, Brasil for 6 months living in an intentional community in the slums and working with a church plant and the young people of my community. I will live in a house with 5 guys (Brasilians) and look forward to the challenges of a new place, culture and language. Due to visa restrictions I will only be able to stay there 6 months, my plan from there is to go to Colombia for 2 months to work with a LAM (latin america mission) missionary who does microenterprise development ministry. From there I may return to México for one last summer (my 5th last summer) before returning home next August to make decisions for what is next. I hope all is well with you all. Much love and God bless.



my bro and I
three countries that are near to my heart

a bad translation in Guatemala

Wow, I really can't believe it....

Wow, as I sit here in the airport in México waiting for my plane at 6am to fly to Houston to then get me to Guatemala I can't help but be overwhelmed by the thought of leaving here. I can't believe this year has gone by so fast. It has most certainly had its ups and downs, struggles and triumphs, but all full of blessings. Leaving here I feel like I'm being torn from my home and just am full of sorrow at having said goodbye to my family and friends. The verse in Mark 10:29,30 that says "I tell you the truth," Jesus replied, "no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age (homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields—and with them, persecutions) and in the age to come, eternal life." I feel truly blessed in the fulfillment of this promise and can say that I have a plethora of homes, brothers, sisters, mothers and the rest. I feel like I have been blessed beyond my wildest expectations. When I think back over the past year I can't help but smile. So many beautiful people have been a part of my life, so many smiles, small acts of hospitality and generosity; so many people accepted me as one of their own, forgot I was some foreigner and just called me friend, brother or son. It has been an honor and a privilege to serve God and the Mexican church over this past year. Tears are coming to my eyes as I write this thinking of being away from home (México), for so long, I know as I go home (Maryland) I will be received by more family and friends and feel blessed to be able to share my experiences, to be able to share of the mighty work and power of God here in México. I know that I say "hasta luego" and not "adios" but it is still hard to leave. I don't know if my place in life is back here, Brasil, the US or some other country, but I know that México will always have a big place in my heart, that I will also as Mexican singer Luis Miguel said carry Mexico in my skin, that it will always be a part of me, a part of who I am. I thank God and you all for allowing me to have this opportunity. I pray for guidance as I proceed forward, I received my Brasilian visa this week and things seem to be order for my trip to Sao Paulo. I pray that I would be able to nail down details when I arrive back home (Maryland) and hope to leave for Brasil in the middle of September. I pray to that I might be able to figure out what comes next after 6 months in Brasil, whether it be a trip to Colombia to learn about ministry and microenterprise, a trip back home (México), or going home (Maryland) and figuring things out there. I thank God for all the blessings he has poured upon me and pray the same for you all. It has been neat this week with my brother, Pete, here visiting México and meeting some of my most cherished friends and family here in México. Yesterday we went to one of my favorite churches and I actually translated the whole sermon as there was a pastor from the US there on a missions trip. It was neat to get to know him a bit and hear his passion for Jesus and reconciliation in the church. I was a bit nervous about translating the whole message in front of everyone (maybe like 250 people), but I thought it went pretty well. The missions team was the most remarkable one I have ever seen or worked with. There were 5 people on the trip, the first a white middle class middle aged pastor, then a female Mexican missionary to India who has been working at the church in Boston and learning english there, the next one was an African American middle aged man, 3 years sober and a former drug addict and alcoholic, the fourth one was from Guatemala and came to the US at 18 not speaking any English and despising the Christian church, he never responded to the gospel until a friend invited him to this church in Boston where he heard the gospel for the first time and gave his life to Christ, and finally the last guy was an African American guy with several disabilities and a giant heart for God. I was so thoroughly impressed by the pastor, the church and the group, I tend to be very much a skeptic these days when it comes to churches and am not easily impressed, but these guys impressed me and were really an awesome picture of what the reconciled diverse church should look like, that through the love of God, we might learn to love one another, not to judge and see that God's kingdom, that our church, has no boundaries and that we were called to go into all the world and to love all the world, not just the ones we choose to like. My flight is taking off, much love to everyone and God bless, see you in a week!