Confessions of a Recovering Hypochondriac (Jeremy)

On Friday mornings, we pray with the staff from the community center in Morro dos Macacos. While waiting for a few of the staff to arrive this morning, Jason and I were sitting around talking with some of the ladies that work in the kitchen. The conversation started with Fatima’s other job. Besides her day job as a full time cook for the community center, Fatima also works nights at a homeless shelter for families. This means that every other day of the week she hops a bus directly from the community center to this homeless shelter, where she spends the entire night awake, looking after these families. After this sleepless night, she returns to her rather thank-less job in the community center. She only sees her bed three to four days a week. As we sat and listened, she talked about the coffee pot that she drains every night, the fights that she has to separate, the drug addicts that she is constantly observing – and the way she talked about it all was so matter of fact, not one plea for pity. Suddenly, the conversation switched directions, and now the topic was teeth. Maria, the janitor, explained to the group that dentists do not scare her in the least. “Why would I worry about a little temporary pain in the mouth, when I’ve seen much worse in my days?” she asked rather rhetorically. Then, she made a pitch for a local dentist that will extract a tooth (yank is probably a better word for his technique) for R$ 5 (about $2.75 US). All the while, Dona Ana, the eighty year old project coordinator who can barely get out of her seat unassisted due to problems in her legs but somehow finds a way up that hill every day to serve the kids, just sat there listening and smiling.

It’s hard to feel like a man in a room full of women such as these. I get irritable when the heat messes with my sleep – even though I still get to sleep every night. When I go to the dentist, I get a local anesthetic – even though no one is talking about pulling teeth. I got bit by a dog here (below - not really), and, after consulting Web MD, I convinced myself that I had contracted rabies. I cannot even drink the water that these women drink because it upsets my constitution. I’m a pansy. I figure that I have a lot to learn from these ladies, who leave me both humbled and thankful that the Lord is gracious to both the strong and the hypochondriacs.

Hope for the Hopeless (Jason)

Jacob, my son, started preschool on Monday (picture below). On my way home from his school I saw, Edimilson, a kid that we have been working with for the past year who lives in Morro dos Macacos (favela). Seated on the side of the road, he was sifting through trash looking for recyclables to sell, a common source of income for those who lack other options. I didn’t stop. I didn’t roll down the window to say hello. I know that it would only have served to embarrass him. Edimilson’s story gets worse. Due to the influence of his aunt, he got involved with Macumba, a mixture of Roman Catholicism and African Animism where the worshiper makes sacrifices to saints/gods. His parents don’t like it and kicked him out of the house. Now, when not on the street, he stays with his aunt. His situation seems hopeless.

What is interesting is that Edimilson’s situation is not that different from the youth that live in the Sombra Road House: Claudinho, Paulo, Adilio, and (potentially in June) Anderson. All four of these guys have stared a hopeless future in the face. Anderson lived on the streets for a year and was hooked on drugs. He knew, just like Edimilson knows, that Sombra Road can offer shelter. Why did Anderson seek help and Edimilson does not? Among the many possibilities, I believe that it ultimately rests on God’s grace. This is where I find hope for Edimilson. I do not rely on Edimilson’s ability to make wise decisions. I trust and pray that God will work in Edimilson to do His will. Please join with us in praying for Edimilson that God would help him to see the error of the path that he is walking and that he would see God’s gracious hand extended in Sombra Road.