I Brailled It

a post by Dr. Leslie

“Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same Story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.”  (C.S. Lewis)

The lights flickered and suddenly went out.  It was pitch black.  Not just sort of dark, but pea-soup-so-thick-you-could-slice-it dark.  Some of us were outside, some sitting around the table, others had already gone to bed, still trying to recover from our long, jet-lag inducing trip.  I must have looked like a zombie – arms outstretched, trying to feel my way from the table to the wall so that I could locate the craft supply suitcase.  I had packed away some votive candles to take to the various project sites we would be visiting – as a part of showing folks how to reuse and repurpose those omnipresent, plastic soda bottles. Ta-da!  I found the votives by “brailling” my way along the wall.  Now, to make my way to the kitchen.  I figured coffee cups were the best bet as a votive holder since we had the front and back doors open to create a cross-draft to help us cope with the heat and humidity. I didn’t want the candles to be blown out once they were lit.  The cups were hanging on little hooks under a shelf – if only I could find my way to them and take them down without dropping them.  It was so, so dark!!!  Finally, I found the cups and began putting the votives in them.  I reverted to zombie mode, arms extended, but this time, with cups suspended from each finger.  (Good thing no one could capture this moment with a photo!) Yay.  I found the table (well, to be honest, it found me – since I basically walked into it).  Let there be light!  Once the votives were lit, we could barely see each other’s faces flickering in the candlelight.  It was then that Matt asked me how I had found the votives and cups. I replied,  “I brailled it.” 

Eventually, we got the power back on.  I blew the candles out.  But, my flippant little response and the experience of seeing my fellow team members’ faces by candlelight got me to thinking (always a dangerous thing).  What a metaphor!  I went to the computer to start a blogpost. 

For now we see in a mirror, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I have been known. I Cor. 13:12

It’s a week since the night the power went out.  In fact, we’ve been back in the states for a few days now, and I still haven’t finished my blog post.  Hmmm. Time to get real.

Folks who know me know that I am rarely at a loss for words.  Yet, that’s partly why I stopped mid-post and have had such a hard time trying to follow through on all the thinking I’ve been doing about what “I brailled it” actually means.  Trying to come up with the “right words” to describe some of our experiences in Brazil has proven to be quite a challenge. In the book, Perelandra, one of the characters describes Reality as sometimes being “too deep for words.”  That’s a lot of what I have experienced during my time in Jaoa Pessoa.  It’s too deep for words. What words can I possibly use to describe the experience of standing on the bank of what from a distance appeared to be a beautiful river opening out into the Atlantic Ocean, but up close it was littered with trash, open sewage, and the bodies of dead rats? And, as it turns out – it’s where the kids from the Compassion Project live!  Our team gathered together to walk along the shoreline since it was low-tide, guided by Ivy Placerda (Director of Compassion Project). In front of the first shack we saw two fly-covered horses, tethered under an overhang.  It was there that Ivy told us that one of the young boys who comes to Compassion witnessed the murder of his father.  This was the boy’s home.  Less than an hour later, I was sitting on the floor with that very same boy, telling the story of how Jesus calmed the storm, with the simple words, “Peace, Be Still.”  As I reached my arm out to say those words, I got goosebumps.  It was sort of an “ah-ha” moment to realize that the Lord can and does still calm storms, particularly in the lives of these children.  A part of me felt giddy – along the lines of “I nailed it!”  But, by the same token I felt overwhelmed and completely inadequate to the challenges that Ivy and her staff so gracefully meet with those children and their families on a day to day basis.  I ended up thinking, maybe “I brailled it” was a more accurate description.

Just the day before our outing to serve at Compassion, we had been to the rural farm community of St. Stephen’s.  I have recently been reading a book called, “Finding Your Own Calcutta.”  Its premise is that we all have the equivalent of a Calcutta in which we can serve because there are different kinds of poverty.  Certainly where our team was ministering in Brazil we were face to face with dire physical poverty.  However, the author of the book is a professor at an affluent college out in California.  After spending several months working with Mother Teresa and the Little Sisters for the Poor, this woman realized that the spiritual poverty of her students was a great as the physical poverty she was witnessing.  I began reflecting on the depth of Ivy’s faith and energy – and the way in which she so infectiously infuses the children with her unwavering confidence in the Lord’s provision.  Ivy and her husband literally sold everything they had in order for them to be able to come to the states and train at Trinity Seminary for the ministry they now so effectively share together.  Talk about depth of faith!  I felt convicted about  my own spiritual poverty – the way in which, I “braille” my way through my day-to-day life.  Here in the States we have it so easy.  I like to think that I am a person of depth and faith, but more often than not, I am pretty much self-reliant and more, as author Shauna Niegquist puts it,  “Christian-ish” than “Christ-like.” 

Let me explain.  Being a Christ follower is sort of like saying I believe that exercise is healthy for me.  Duh!  Of course I know it’s good for me.  But to be quite honest, I think about doing it way more than I actually do.  I more like the idea of it than the doing of it.  I can, however, enthusiastically tell someone I totally love swimming (I do – I’m a gold medalist from back in the days when I swam for Junior Olympics).  And I can also tell you how swimming genuinely makes me feel better when I actually get around to it.  (It does!).  But in the end, when I say I believe exercise is healthy for me, what I really mean is that every week I intend to swim three or four times a week, but actually only make it to the pool once a week or two.  Likewise, in my life, my reliance on the Lord and my life of prayer is similar.  If you ask me about prayer, I can give you lots (LOTS!) of information about prayer.  I have a huge collection of books and journals on hand about prayer.  I’ve read them all!  I believe in it, conceptually.  I feel better when I do it.  But when it comes down to it, I’m “prayer-ish”.  I’m informed about prayer – not so transformed by prayer.  Uh-oh.  The only one I’ve ever confessed my “prayer-ishness” to is my spiritual director – but now I’ve let the cat out of the bag – so I might as well finish the tale!  When anyone else is in crisis or “whelmed” I tell them things like,  “God is in control and to not lean on their own understanding.”  But secretly, I unequivocally lean on my own understanding.  I do it so that I don’t feel so out of control and blind to the world.  I’m a control freak.  I always have a plan and manage my life so as not to feel like something’s coming around the corner that I can’t predict and don’t have insurance for.  What I believe in most is my own ability to figure things out by myself.  I don’t want to say that the future is in God’s hands and it can go whatever way He in His sovereign design chooses.  That’s way too scary. In fact, that sounds flat-out terrifying to me!  Sell everything and follow Me?  Nope.  I want guarantees.  I want security.  I want to be healthy.  I like my home and my lifestyle. I want successful children that I can brag about.  I want to know what’s coming, know what to expect, diligently save money for it, have insurance coverage for everything, and in the end know that all is meet and right and well and good and under control.  Of course, life doesn’t work this way and typically the thing that pushes me to exercise or pray more is always desperation.

The timing of our trip to Brazil comes at a point of desperation in my life.  I just had returned from a whirlwind trip to Boise, Idaho right before we left for Jaoa Pessoa.  My brother-in-law had called the week before to say my sister was now under hospice care.  She has battled cervical cancer for several years but in recent weeks things took a terrible turn.  The tumors have spread through her entire abdominal cavity and her “systems” are in the process of shutting down.  He said she had days, or maybe weeks left and that before too long she would be in a coma.  I didn’t want to run the risk of not seeing her when she was still lucid – so I did a “hit and run” trip out there to say good-bye to her in person. My heart was heavy with grief, not to mention the more wordly concern of how I was going to actually pay for said trip, which I put on a credit card with the Scarlett O’Hara approach of, “Oh well, there’s always tomorrow” (to figure out how to pay for it).  So, I arrived in Brazil feeling grim, jet-lagged and more than a little “whelmed” – and, as it turns out, desperate enough to pray.  Yes, I was begging God for a miracle for my sister. 

All those misguided efforts at organization and control and self-reliance evaporate whenever reality takes hold.  I found myself in Brazil staring reality in the face; grateful that I could come back to basics – praying and leaning on the Lord rather than on my own competence. 

“Dear God, I need help with me!”  Anne Lamott writes that one of the best prayers she ever heard and routinely uses for herself is “I need help with me.”  (Her son had somehow gotten his head stuck in the rungs of a kitchen chair and calmly stated this to her when she entered the kitchen and found him quite stuck).  I have a watercolor painting on my office wall.  It’s of a frizzy-haired woman sitting in an inverted umbrella.  Its title is “Control.”  The subtext says something to the effect of,  “You can hold onto the handle if you want to, but you’ll enjoy the ride a lot more if you let go.”  I “enjoyed the miracle ride” in Brazil quite a lot.  Deeper than words to be certain.  That said,  I’m pretty sure that this “let go/let God” struggle is going to be a lifelong one for me.  Day by day, I’m learning to rely more and more on God and less on my tendency to braille my way through things. 

So.  While stumbling around in the dark that night, I ended up being able to let go of begging for the miracle I want for my sister and instead asked God to show me the miracles that were happening right in front of me – there in Brazil.  And, guess what?  He did!  One of the most poignant was the joy of seeing my son, Christopher, reunited with, Marlin, a boy he had befriended at the Compassion Project last summer (but that is Christopher’s story to tell, and one you can read about in his blogpost). I also loved watching the hordes of precious little girls clinging for dearlife to my daughter, Hannah.  Being embedded with a team of people who love to laugh and play and pray was very healing for me.   Being in an intentional (and, alas, all too temporary) community for 10 days healed the emotional muscles I had been clenching so tightly.  It brought me back to a place of “possible” from seemingly impossibility.  It brought me hope in place of despair. Indeed, I came away from my time in Brazil profoundly changed and deeply tied to each member of our team – youth and adults alike. Each and every person on our team is a truly courageous and remarkable soul.  I’m blessed to know each and every one of them.

As I braille my way forward here at home, I am determined to be less “Christian-ish” and more “Christ-like.”  I want to give each day all the love and intensity and courage I can – and NOT out of my own powersource.  Truth be told, that one’s pretty depleted.  And, yes.  I want to keep traveling openly and honestly (with less braille and more God-given sight!) along life’s path. 

Gracious Father, help me to be eyes-wide-open to the small letter miracles that You write daily across your world.

On translating and stuff…

A post by Rachel Kornfield

So, off and on all week I’ve been intending to post to the blog, and somehow, never gotten around to it. I also wanted to read what was already there, curious to see our experiences through different teammates’ perspectives. As I did so just now, I found tears leaping to my eyes over and over at their eloquent descriptions of precious, beautiful, and sad moments.

I have been pleased this week to find that my Portuguese – and English – seemed to flow with only a few awkward pauses of “how do you say that in that language again?” These last two days (Saturday and Sunday), I had the opportunity to translate for Leslie Thyberg at the Valentina VBS as we led group after group of kids in fifteen to forty-five minutes of games. Fifteen to forty-five, I say, because the twenty we were originally asked to prepare rarely seemed to work according to schedule. No matter – Leslie is a master of coming up with last minute improvisations, ideas, and variations. Together we made a formidable team, overcoming the wind-blown sand that filled our clothes, teeth and hair (our “playground” was a sandy area in front of the church, about a quarter of the size of a basketball court), the shyness of the 3-4 year olds, the rambunctiousness of the 7-9 year olds, and the fact that we never really knew how much time we had left. The kids loved games as simple as duck-duck-goose and as creative as knocking over sand-filled-pop-bottle “bowling pins” with coconuts. Go Leslie!

Translation-wise, the highlight came Sunday night, when I was asked to interpret the sermon for the church service. Although my initial reaction was, “of course, I’d love to help,” as time went on and the sermon got closer I became increasingly unsure if I had made the right decision. Shortly before the service, Brian commented, “you’ve been translating hard all day, if you want a break, I want to make sure you know there are other options.” I reassured him that I would be fine, and then had plenty of time during the first half of the service to wonder if that was wise. Although I was still adrenaline-filled, I was tired, and in the middle of a homily, in front of the whole church and mission-trip community, is an awkward time to stumble for words, especially if there are other people sitting close-by who might translate better. I asked that the Lord might help me glorify Him. Pastor Gustavo surprised me at the beginning of the homily by praying that the translation would go smoothly, and I felt something in me relax. With minimal difficulty, we found our stride, and it was one of the smoother translation jobs I can remember, and a sermon well worth translating. Thank you, God!

Relationship-wise, there’s more to say than can be written here. I am so grateful for the Brazilian friends I have made this week, and also for the American ones, since I didn’t know most of the members of the mission’s team hardly at all when the trip started. It has truly been a pleasure to get to know them. Now, however, I better go, as people are gathering for a final moment of fellowship… over Brazilian pizza. Yum

When Joy and Sadness Collide

A post from Katie Swab

Matt and I have been married for nearly two years now, and in that time we have been asked the inevitable question numerous times: “When are you going to start a family?” However, I think the person that has asked us the most, even though we have only seen her twice, is Tais. Tais is a thirteen year old girl that benefits from the Compassion Project that Christopher blogged about in the previous post. When we met her last year, she was absolutely fascinated by the fact that Matt and I, as well as David and Becca Woods, were married. Marriage is a concept that is foreign to almost all of the kids at Compassion. Tais would point to each half of the couple then put her index fingers together symbolizing a kiss. This motion brought us joy in that she recognized the relationship between us, yet sadness as we recognized that the only expression she could think to share for a relationship was a physical one, offering us a window into her life.

This year, as soon as she saw me, she gave me a big hug and immediately pointed to Matt and I then made the gesture of rocking a baby in her arms; her way of asking if we had a baby yet, as she had done so many times last July. As we told her “no”, a look of disappointment crossed her face. We continued to bond, though, through many hugs and conversations with hand motions and broken Portuguese (on my part). We had a picture taken of the two of us, and she promptly asked if I could send her a copy of the picture through the director of Compassion, Ivy. Of course, I told her that I would; I was just blessed and overjoyed that she had asked. When we had a break in the program I asked Ivy for Tais’ story. Ivy informed me that Tais’ mother is deeply engrossed in the business of black magic, or spiritism, in Brazil. People will pay her for services similar to voodoo. Her four siblings, ages 14, 10, 9, and 6, are also involved in the Compassion Project. Tais’ father, although he is in the picture, which is rare in this river community, is very violent, which has contributed to the children having bad tempers and being very aggressive. In fact, we learned from Ivy that as soon as the youngest sister (6) came in today, she was complaining of a hurt leg; their father had kicked her because he didn’t like the outfit she chose to wear that day. Although I knew that Tais’ story was probably pretty dire, I didn’t imagine, or perhaps I just didn’t let myself imagine, that it would be quite so unsettling and seemingly hopeless. Tais is such a lively young girl and a born leader whose enthusiasm and attitude mirrors that of someone who spends their weekends like a normal thirteen year old, shopping at the mall and talking about boys. Instead, she witnesses acts of black magic and domestic violence towards defenseless children. Knowing her true circumstances brought me profound sadness past the general heaertache we feel for these children, just as seeing the recognition of me in her eyes had brought me pure joy. Even though she brought me the saddest moments of this trip, I can only hope to see her again, as she also brought me the most joyful moments.

Life will never be the same.

After experiencing the Compassion Project for a second time, I can’t help but feel that my life will never be the same. It would be impossible for me to undo the personal change and the inspiration that I experienced. This project is one of the most amazing pieces of work I have ever seen. The children in this community have so little. They live on a huge river next to a large port. The river is so large and interrelated with the ocean that it actually works with the tide as well. When it is high tide, the water rises into people’s houses, meaning they can keep little to nothing inside their houses. The wood and tile slates do little to stop flooding each day. The river is also used as a sewer and is ridden with trash and disease. Yet this is where kids play. Today when we arrived, it was low tide so we were able to walk on the beach towards the houses. As we walked we had to watch our step to avoid trash and disposed needles. It broke my heart to see what these children had to face everyday. We are so blessed where we live. We take so much for granted… Our houses, our heat, our electricity, our beds, our furniture, our dinner every night. We have things that we consider rights, that these kids dream about.

You would imagine that because of this, the children would be complacent, beaten down, depressed. Hopeless. But you couldn’t be more wrong. There is an indescribable passion in most of their eyes. There is so much joy. When they laugh and cry out in happiness, there is no way that you cannot join them. They are full of energy, excitement, playfulness, and love.

This community faces two major issues; drug use and prostitution, because of the nearby port. This means that many of the children are born never knowing their fathers… That presents an incredible opportunity then for us, especially the men. The boys cling to you for dear life. If there is one thing I wish I could have had today, it is twelve arms. I carried multiple kids everywhere we went and as we played. The presence of an older male figure who cares for them and openly expresses it, is so powerful to them-and they do not hold back in showing how much it means. Soccer, and swimming, wrestling and laughing-it all combines to form profound friendships and mentoring roles for these kids.

It was particularly encouraging to see the effects it had, had on the children who I met last time I went to the project. They have grown bigger, and so has their maturity. They are growing to be good men, who are the hope for this community. To stop the poverty and bring new life to their friends and family. I was really touched by one of the boys who i had bonded with last year, who had matured so much in the past 365 days. when we were walking back from the beach, i had a boy in each arm and was also carrying my shoes. i was struggling, mostly because it was awkward to hold on to the shoes. this boy came up to me, took my shoes, and carried them to the house for me. when we got there, we went back to the side of the house to wash the dirt of our feet, he filled the cup and poured water on ben, nate, joel, and my feet. it was profound. it was touching. it was heartbreaking. to see this young child, offering us everything he could when it was us that came to serve him.

It was particularly touching for me to see Marlin, a young boy who I met last time who I instantly bonded with. He is a precious kid with an amazing spirit. Feisty and outgoing, smart and athletic. I saw him walk through the gate towards the house and I walked up to him, unsure of whether or not he would remember me. I stuck my hand out and asked in broken Portuguese if he remembered me. He smiled as he took my hand saying “Chris” as I pulled him into a hug.        It was so hard to say goodbye again tonight. We must have hugged each other and said goodbye 14 times, easily. Neither of us wanted the day to end, and neither of us wanted the other to go. It was emotional for me, in the uncertainty of what will happen in the future. I feel a deep connection to Brazil and do not doubt that I will return, but it is hard to let go of a child when they are in such clear danger. But God is in control of these things and all I can do is trust that He will bring us together again. I have already been promised that if I send emails to the leader of the project she will translate them for me and give them to the Marlin and the other boys.

I consider myself incredibly blessed today because not only was I reunited with Marlin, but I made other new deep connections to some of the other children. The best example of this was a boy who I met today named Cosme. He is so small I think a breeze could knock him over. I have never seen a kid so full of life. He was incredibly energetic and full of energy, yet he was clearly smart and really listened when we spoke to him. He had a laugh that shook me to the core, it was so pure and beautiful. There was a great moment when we were on the beach… He walked up to me with his ear-to-ear grin and I picked him up and was holding him in my arms. Naomi walked over and decided that it was cute enough that it warranted a picture. So we posed and it was taken, but then Naomi wanted one with him. She reached out her arms and as I moved to let her go he wrapped his arms around my neck and wouldn’t let go. I leaned away from Naomi and looked at him as he shook his head no. I asked him if he would take the photo with her, for me, and he smiled and nodded. So he hopped down and cuddled up next to her. And promptly after the photo was taken was immediately back on my hip.

Now, to be clear, Naomi was constantly surrounded by children and I cannot emphasize how perfect she was with them. She has a real gift for interacting with people and especially integrating into Brazilian culture. We are lucky to have her here.

I may be ahead of myself, and will certainly need to do some long talks with the leadership at Ascension. But I feel a real calling to the Compassion Project and see a future in a mission trip specifically designed around those kids. A day is not enough time. A week isn’t either. But one step at a time, I suppose.

It honestly is a little frustrating to be forced to leave these kids so quickly. Even in our house in brazil, we have so much. these kids are going back to abusive homes with parents who either can’t or choose not to provide for them. It is really hard to let go and say goodbye until we can return again. It feels like we aren’t doing enough to help them. I wish I could spend years there, or bring them back to Pittsburgh. But I know what we did today made huge impacts in some of their lives and these relationships aren’t going to end soon.

Being with those kids and seeing the joy on their faces has changed me forever. And I couldn’t be happier about it. There is a bittersweet taste to know that we gave these kids so much joy today, but knowing that they still face a lot of hardships ahead.

Love to everyone back in Pittsburgh reading this.

Peace,

Christopher

Why Did I Shower?

A post by Matt Swab

I have to laugh as I listen to that question come out of many of our team members. Especially our young men. The answers are many, of course, least of all the increasingly “lovely” smell in the boys room. However, it has rained enough that we might just be able to justify sending them all outside with a few bars of soap!

As I write this, the rain has actually stopped. The waves are gently kneading the shore line in their own, unique legato rhythm. Four of the guys sit on the porch with a guitar while some of the ladies work on projects inside. It is beautiful. It is peaceful.

Yet, even as it has rained, it has brought us refreshment and comfort. Sweeping away the humidity and bringing a welcome coolness to the air. While working at the church in Valentina on Tuesday, the rain was ultimately refreshing while working to stack a huge pile of bricks. Had the weather been warm and sunny and, well let’s face it – pleasant, we would have ended the day sun scorched, exhausted, and sore. Instead, the rain brought with it a coolness and playfulness propelling out team through the day.

Now, you may be thinking, “How does one ‘play’ while moving bricks for hours on end?” Just add two liter bottle with the top cut off. It acts as a great bowl in which to catch water. And what would one do with a bowl of rainwater? Dump it on someone’s head of course! And so a slow, methodical water war began throughout the day. Weaving itself through our work as people found their target waited for an opportune moment and then struck!

Now that it’s over, I must admit that it was actually quite refreshing! Especially, after our morning encounter with a number of rather large cockroaches. In a storage room towards the back of the property, Leslie Thyberg and I were clearing everything out. The room was eventually cleaned (thoroughly) and will become their kitchen as the church construction continues to evolve.

As Leslie and I pushed a large shelving unit out of the way in the back of the room, suddenly we were greeted with a massive, moving starburst. A starburst of cockroaches, ranging in size from “ew” to “OH MY GOSH!!!!!!!!” Leslie jumped back. I jumped into Leslie. Leslie screamed. I screamed…higher than Leslie. The entire team came running. And now I will never live down the fact that I screamed like a girl at a few bugs.

Miraculously, we were saved by the unflappable Hannah Thyberg. Walking in like Jack Bauer she mercilessly eradicated the “problem” all the while encouraging Leslie and I that “they are just bugs.” With her support I was able to bring my voice back down to its proper tenor octave and help with the removal of our creepy crawly friends. However, my pride is still gone. Completely gone…

There are many other stories from the day. Some including lizards and frogs and snails and headless beatles. But the best ones include reuniting with friends from last year and being introduced to new friends. Teaching one another words. Learning to communicate through gestures and broken phrases in English, Portuguese, and Spanish. Hearing about the new ministry program, Alpha, that some of our Brazilian friends are involved in. And being amazed at some of our Brazilian friends who learned an immense amount of English in the past year. They humbly say they have a lot to learn, but what they have done and learned is truly amazing.

That is why we are here. The people. Our physical labor is important, but it is the support, encouragement, and joy that we share with one another that matters. And it is our mutual love and faith in the saving power of Jesus Christ that fuels and enables these things.

Let it rain. Let the sun shine. We will carry on with passion and joy….and perhaps a real shower every now and then.

Soli Deo Gloria

Just getting started

In many ways, the trip to Brazil felt like an unreal experience. It felt hypothetical in the approach-each team meeting felt more like a business transaction, discussing the logistical issues concerned with raising enough money. The concept of returning to Brazil seemed too incredible to be true… Driving to the airport, it felt unreal. Flying for 14 hours with 6 hours of layovers felt unreal. Driving through the city felt unreal. Setting up in our house felt unreal. Even driving to the church, it was so hard to grasp the idea that we had finally returned. But when I saw the faces of our long-lost friends, the floodgates opened. The reality of our situation and the magnitude of what that entails poured in on me. We are in Brazil with some of the best people on the face of this earth, making it a more beautiful and united place.

Yesterday was our construction work day. Our original plans of building a roof were switched due to weather concerns and missing the core instructor of the design. So instead, we moved about 2,000 to 3,000 teracotta bricks to the next location for building at the church. It was arduous work and it was done in a torrential downpour. But we managed to keep a smile on our face the entire time working side by side with the Brazilians-laughing, joking and comparing our favorite footballers.

Later that night we were visited by a small group of the Brazilians who joined us for dinner. During that time we witnessed Arthur, an incredible man about my age who has taught himself English through google translator, play chess and systematically tear us apart one by one. He beat Kenny in two moves, legitimately. The rest of us faired a little better, but not by much. The night was filled with seeing old friends. Perhaps one of the best parts was that the language barrier had dropped significantly. Many of us have been working on our Portuguese so we can understand better, and many of the Brazilians have made huge strides in their English. We spent the night, conversing as good friends who knew each other well. It still amazes me how their culture is so welcoming and so energetic. It is beautiful beyond words.

In many ways the trip is still only beginning. We have yet to go to our first Vacation Bible School (VBS), we have not yet seen the Compassion Project, we have not even played soccer yet. But there is a great apprehension in the air. A tense excitement for what awaits us, to see what God has in store for us.

To all my family and friends in America, I miss you dearly and cannot wait to see you soon so I can try to share these stories and experiences a little better. I wish you could be here to see the things with us, but in many ways you are. Your support and love has entwined you into this story and made you a vital part of it all.
See you in a week!

-Christopher

Where is David?

The answer to that question is very simple.  Not here!  David Woods has been a part of our relationship with Brazil for several years.  As part of both the original scouting trip and last year’s mission team sharing both his construction skill and spiritual wisdom, David has been an integral part in building the relationship.

Consequently, it was no surprise when our friends in Brazil asked us, “Where is David?”  When we told them that he was in America, their response was a bit surprising, “Who is managing the construction project on the roof tomorrow?”  Our response, “Ummmm…so we’re not just painting?”

Ok, slight miscommunication.  It happens.  Now, lets talk about how God uses our mistakes and idiosyncrasies to weave a beautiful tapestry.  Because we do not have anyone on our team with the skill necessary to manage a project such as a roof repair our Brazilian partners quickly regrouped and announced that there was plenty of work at their church, which is currently in a state of perpetual construction and physical growth.  Additionally, there is a member of the church who can fix the roof that we were unable to repair and we will fund the work.

Let’s look at the equation so far.  Working on the Church + Still Fixing the Roof + Giving a Member of the Church Paid Work = Pretty Good Stuff!

But that’s not all.  As it turns out, the school in which this weekend’s VBS was being held just informed us that they will be holding classes this weekend.  Meaning we can not have our VBS there.  Apparently, there was a strike earlier in the year and the students must now make up that time.

As a result, we are holding the VBS at the Church in Valentina.  This also happens to be the church we ended up working on.  Oh, and because we are able to work on it, clearing an entire room out and moving construction materials (including a MASSIVE pile of bricks) there is now enough room for the various stations at the VBS.

So, now we get to add to the equation: Solution of an Inconvenient Relocation + Time Necessary to Prepare the New Location.  Additionally, the leaders at the church in Valentina are pleased that the community will now have a stronger reference point for the church as they associate the actual church building with the events of VBS.

What could have been wasted time and a disaster turned into solutions on multiple levels.  Thank God.  Literally.

Soli Deo Gloria

Safe and Sound

Twenty-one hours after leaving Pittsburgh, ten people from Church of the Ascension’s mission to Brazil team landed safely at Joao Pessoa’s local airport.  What we thought would be a race through the airport in Miami to catch a connecting flight ended up being a perfectly timed journey through the airport to board our red eye to Rio de Janero.  Some of the crew even had time to pick up delicious delights at Haggen-Dazs!

After boarding our flight in Miami, we rose into the sky on schedule at 11:30 PM.  Though sleeping on a plane can be difficult, it seems that most everyone was able to doze for at least several hours.  Although, I was just yelled at today for being the only person in the entire plane with a reading light on well into the evening!  Oops!  I guess being a night person on a plane isn’t always a good thing.

After arriving in Rio de Janero, we made it through customs without a single problem.  The only “problem” that we had was finding out that we were charged twice for Naomi’s ticket and need to be refunded.  I’ll take it!

Our flight from Rio to Joao Pessoa was without incident…at least from my perspective.  I fell asleep and slept through the entire thing.  Even the meal cart!  I’ll let other team members comment on anything of significance that may have happened during the flight.

Upon arrival we were reunited with our fearless leader, Brian Wortham, and our van driver for the week, Alexi.   Brian’s daughter, Isabella, also joined us for the van ride back to the house and was extraordinarily cute pointing out all of the “horseys” along the way…in both English and Portuguese!  She’s a smart cookie.

The house that we are renting is beautiful and well appointed to handle a team of our size.  Within thirty minutes of arriving, all of the boys were already out for a quick swim at the beach before dinner.  It is wonderful to be reunited with Debora Wortham and her parents, Maria Helena and Messias.  Debora’s parents have graciously offered to manage the house, feeding and cleaning up after the team, for the entire week.  The team does what they can to help, but this dynamic duo is like a well-oiled machine and we do our best to stay of their way!  They are truly a blessing and it is wonderful to have them with us again this year.

Rachel Kornfield, one of our translators, arrived early Tuesday morning around 2 AM officially completing our team.  It was a great surprise to see her walk onto the porch at8 AMas we shared breakfast Tuesday morning.  I told her that I could not believe she was awake.  She smiled and said, “I’m here and I want to be with the team.”  God bless her!

So there you have it.  We are all here, safe and sound.  Perhaps a little bit tired, but excited for the work we are doing.  We had a meeting with the Brazilian church leaders on Monday night that included a few surprises, but ultimately proving once again that God’s plan is better than ours, but I’ll tell you about that a little bit later…

2011 Trip to Brazil

We’re going back to partner with our brothers and sisters in Joao Pessoa, Brazil!

This coming Sunday, July 3rd, a group of 13 youth and adults from Church of the Ascension will depart for Joao Pessoa on a 10 day trip.  This mission continues our long-term ministry relationship of service and love that began between Church of the Ascension and the church in Joao Pessoa several years ago.

Last summer, a group of 20 people traveled to Brazil and began building relationships and opportunities with a number of ministries there.  We will continue the work during next week’s trip:

• The Compassion Project: We encourage, support, and work with teachers and students in a children’s program for an impoverished river slum.  A community of over 450 people, the children have little to no access to quality education.  The Compassion Project is both a positive educational and spiritual influence in the lives of children surrounded by poverty and drugs.
• Vacation Bible School: Partnering with several community parishes, we will assist in the evangelistic outreach and teaching of children.
• Evangelism: We combine efforts with local clergy and laity using music, drama, preaching and relationship building to spread the Good News of Jesus Christ.  Many of the clergy in Joao Pessoa are bi-vocational; meaning they have full-time day jobs and choose to serve the church as well, devoting much of their free time to the work of Christ.  It is an honor to come beside them to support and energize their efforts and vision for their communities.
• St. Stephens Farming Community: A former rural, welfare community, this group of people is learning how to farm their property through the support and teaching of the local church.  Cultivating the land, they are learning to produce and sell lettuce and other vegetables to local markets.  A single farm can support several families without the use of welfare. 
• Construction: Offering the labor of our hands, we will work alongside our Brazilian brothers and sisters at the home of one of their constituents.

We thank all of our friends and family and Church of the Ascension for their financial and prayer support.  If you are interested in supporting our mission partnership with Brazil, please click on the “Donate” tab at the top of the page and follow the directions.  All donations are tax deductible.

Blessings in Christ!

Our work…has just begun

Todd put together a great video to help summarize key moments during our trip.  We pray that this is only the beginning…