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.