Sombraroad

Elements of Community - Beautified View of the Poor

2012-01-26T12:45:00.000-05:00

I have a friend who is poor. I'm probably not allowed to write that, but I think it's a fair representation of how most of you who are reading this blog would assess him financially. Now, he's not miserable, beggarly or destitute - just poor. When I first met him, he and his wife lived off about US $240 per month. His home has unpainted, cement walls that lack some windows. His living room is about the size of a walk-in closet, and the small rotating fan that they use at night in their Africa-hot bedroom is considered a luxury. He'll take a pair of shoes that I'm throwing out, wear them for a year, and then, when they are completely worn through, fashion some type of sandal out of them for fishing. I am blessed to call him my friend.

Given my relationship with this man, you think I would suffer some sweeping reform in my view of the poor. But, I find in myself the same tendency all too pervasive in our culture to classify the indigent in one of two categories - nuisance or charity project. The nuisances are blown off with an averted glance, while charity projects are offered spare change and pity. I live in the tension created by entitlement, societal greed and personal indifference pitted against Jesus' recognition of the blessedness of the poor. Where is the release valve?

The only answer I see is a beautified view of the poor. We have to move beyond our conditioned responses of either a cold shoulder or a hot meal. The poor must have a place with us. There must be room for relationship. For it is through relationship that we can communicate of the provision of God in their lives and they can remind us of our condition before God. In this way, we perceive that we are far more bound with them than we feel comfortable admitting. Then, suddenly, the they and the we in this conversation no longer makes sense. This is what we are striving for in the Sombra Road house.

Elements of Community - Contribution of All

2011-12-02T15:06:00.002-05:00

When my nephew was still a toddler, he would watch my brothers play video games and inevitably ask to join in. They would give him an unplugged controller and explain to him his objective. He would spend the next five to ten minutes, depending upon his attention span, mashing buttons indiscriminately, convinced that we was playing some crucial part in this game. At some point, he would ask, "Which guy am I?"

"You're the blue one," one of my brothers would respond.

Puzzled, he would retort, "Well, why isn't he going where I'm telling him to go?"

That's mean, right? Making a kid think he has just helped win the Stanley Cup when all he has really done is put a little more wear on an already broken controller. Sadly, this parallels the way many of our communities function. Sure, we tell ourselves that everyone has to play their part in order for us to get where we need to go, but that is not the way we choose our roles and design our systems. The harsh reality is that most communities have heroes and victims - the people that fix and the people that need fixing. There is this subtle, yet impenetrable, wall that partitions those serving from those being served. Those that serve stay busy cleaning up the messes of the others, and their gifts are exalted as indispensable for the life of the community. Those that are served are coddled, get accustomed to the attention and buy into the lie that they really don't have anything to contribute after all. But, the system continues because egos on both sides are appeased. Heroes celebrate their altruistic martyrdom and functionality; victims enjoy the entitlement and the center of attention status. But, it could be different. (See Romans 12:6-7)

I wish I could say that we in the Sombra Road House have it all figured out. Sadly, we display the same tendency to fall into typecast roles of fixers and the fixed. I think I came to Brasil with this notion that I was in a position where I had everything to give. The guys come from spots where they were more convinced of their needs than their gifts. This makes for a deadly combo. I would say we are starting to make some adjustments in this area. This entails three postures. First, we have to help the guys recognize their gifts. Second, we have to situate the weight of the community on these gifts. Third, we have to allow our egos to recede to the point where we can abdicate control and allow for mistakes. The cool thing that I've discovered in ceasing to play the hero is that my wife and I are far more blessed by these guys' presence in our lives than we had imagined and far more dependent on their gifts than we had thought. Additionally, as the guys explore their strengths in service, our community becomes more three dimensional as it breaks from the restraining mold that I impose upon it. We have a long way to go, but acknowleding that doesn't depress me. I look at examples like L'Arche (which I would encourage you to explore as an example of community) and am hopeful of what lies before us. It's time to plug in the controllers.

Elements of Community - Sense of Sharing

2011-11-25T16:17:00.002-05:00

This post attempts to take one step beyond the former post, moving from an emphasis on Us to Our. In community, we ought to feel like there are elements of life that are not merely mine but ours. As a former mathlete, the Venn Diagram comes to mind (see above). The Venn Diagram captures this element of community in which we don't merely come side by side, but we actually overlap. The circles do not bleed into each other and lose their circularity. Instead, they bond over a common space. The common space in communities should be the following: obedience and interaction with God, future hopes, responsibility for others, pains, victories, space and possessions. These shared experiences will be the byproducts of our shared mission and will bear witness to the legitimacy of our ties to one another. To the degree that we attempt to partition these areas off from those to whom we are committed, we will experience a death of sorts. (See II Cor 9:1-15, Acts 4:32)

I feel like I learn a lot from Brazilians about sharing possessions, responsibility and space. When I drove the VW Van into the sewer drainage ditch, all the locals adopted the task of getting the van out as if it were their problem. If a guy in the house buys a package of cookies, these cookies inevitably make their way around the table. During our prayer group in the morro this morning, three chairs were placed side by side to make a bench for five kids to sit on. Recently, Claudinho complained to Carol and I about not giving him a heads up before visitors arrive. According to him, any visitor to the house becomes our visitor. I liked the way he expressed this. Carol and the guys in our house are great examples for me in these arenas.

However, I am always humbled when I read about the church in Acts. Those guys sold stuff so that others could live. They shared joys when experiencing growth and hope when being persecuted. I think they shared their brokenness and humanity far more than we do here. We in the house still buy into the lie that we can only share what's working; the broken stuff gets stuffed or fenced off. While we have made some strides over this last year, we still need to learn how to share more of who we are rather than merely what we have. The cliche alarm is sounding, but I'm have going to have to conclude with that statement.

Elements of Community - Sense of Belonging

2011-11-18T22:28:00.001-05:00

Belonging speaks to our sense of identity. Defining self in relation to the people with whom we are connected seems somewhat off by contemporary standards. Instead, personal identity is perceived as a rather individual and autonomous pursuit, something you discover alone on some remote mountain in Southern Asia. However, do any of us truly arrive at an accurate assessment of self without the context of Jesus and His body? I believe that I demands the context of a He and an Us. Consider this. All the ways I define myself depend on others in some way. My gifts are only gifts because they serve someone else - not my ego. My weaknesses and limitations surface because of my interaction with those around me. My love needs a Source and an object. Any attempt to articulate who I am will result in dragging you and God into the conversation. This sounds suffocating. However, the fact that my identity is inextricably tied to God and His people does not mute my individuality. Instead, it accentuates it, creating an opportunity for its expression. Healthy communities seem to transmit this sense of Us while acknowledging we are His. I resonates with this vertical and horizontal sense of belonging. In this way, we depart from Cain's path. Where he stepped back from God and balked at being his brother’s keeper, we must embrace such. (Hosea 2:2, Neh 2:1-4; Ruth 1:15-18).

As for the Sombra Road house, I see this sense of Us in the way we define victories and defeats. Paulo gets a job, and Claudinho celebrates with the same enthusiasm as Paulo. Claudinho breaks up with his girlfriend, and Adilio feels it. It goes beyond just win-win. I also detect a sense of belonging in the way we deal with each other's junk. Each guy is called to pull their own weight, while overwhelming burdens are intended to be carried by all. These are not confused boundaries; the lines have merely been recast in light of the gospel.

I conclude with one final footnote on the sense of belonging essential to community, as this element of my past is etched on my memory as the essence of this concept of Us. When we were kids, my two younger brothers and I would make up all types of random games. My brother Brian was the chief architect, and his games all shared one common trait - all three of us were on the same team. He would set up the game in such a way so that the three of us were competing against an imaginary opponent - typically called the Yankees or some other team we generally disliked. Then, we'd play it out. Interestingly enough, we would not rig the game so that we would necessarily win. Sometimes we did lose, but we lost together. It's now a joke between us when we play a game as to whether we are going to play it straight up or Brian style. Still, I wish there were more room for Brian games in the way we live.

Elements of Community - Mission

2011-11-10T19:14:00.002-05:00

Community is not just a static group of navel gazers that enjoy each other’s company. Community has an outward vector, a direction. This means that people live in community with an end in mind. It is this end that helps solidify the bond between the individual members. As my friend David says, most examples of healthy communities follow the Lego Principle. People, like legos, do not join side by side. In order to connect and enduringly remain together, they demand a common link above and below. The link above is our common connection to the Father, while the link below is this fundamental commitment to mission. In a broad sense, our mission is to serve as a witness to all that Jesus is accomplishing in the space between us, while inviting outsiders in to experience the same. In this way, mission is just as much about loving inward as looking outward. Vanier clarifies this in his book Community and Growth when he asserts, “I am convinced that a community can flourish only if its aim is outside of itself.” (See John 10:10, Matthew 10:5, Matthew 28:16-20, Romans 15:20)

Before this house, my view of mission was far too limited in its scope. While true mission entails saying no to certain things in order to say yes to others, I was far too satisfied at times with just the no's. Let me explain. The ascetic lifestyle always maintained a certain allure to me. Something about a streamlined life of measured simplicity stripped of creature comforts in the name of a greater good seemed sexy in a way. So, when I moved into the orphanage, I bought a mattress and slept on the floor. Paint on the walls was deemed a luxury, food was relegated to tasteless fuel and my wardrobe was trimmed to blue, black and gray t-shirts. It was during this time that my friend Will confessed that video skyping with me made him feel depressed. The drab, empty backdrop of my room made him feel as if he were talking with someone holed up in a bomb shelter. But, it answered something in me. I felt free and deliberate. I felt as if I were living with a mission. I had defined my life through my sacrifices. I was deluded. But, here's the scary reality. I think most of us are. If we're honest, it is easier to define our faith through the sacrifices we make than through manifestations of love. We are not loving others; we're looking for a better version of us. I had not yet learned that all sacrifices are embraced with someone else's best in mind, banking on the hope that God will ressurect life in both me and others where there is only death.

Mission looks different to me now. It's more about what He's doing for us than what I'm doing for Him. I just have to keep up with Him and be accessible to others. In this way, mission surges in almost everything because no activity is too small for Him to inhabit. Playing poker, entertaining guests, preparing a Sunday meal or buying groceries - nothing is off limits. For our part, this demands a vigilance and an active looking outward. It is not enough that we're cool with each other. As long as there are strangers, our mission continues. There is the image of two young Moravian men who sold themselves into a lifetime of slavery, waving goodbye to their families for the last time, one shouting from the boat, "May the Lamb receive the reward of His suffering." And I thought mission was eating ramen noodles out of the only bowl you own.

Elements of Community - Mystery

2011-11-04T17:31:00.000-04:00

Let me begin with a confession. I have a tough time saying "I don't know." When posed with a Why?, I feel as if it is my moral obligation to respond to it. I've even been know to throw in a "They say..." to justify my point, simply because it seems to lend credibility to my argument. I am enfatuated with reasons, motives and consistency therein. Give me cogent explanations of life that dovetail into a practical, if not empirical, worldview, and I'll feel a certain buzz.

Now, the problem with people like me is our quiet aversion to the concept of mystery. Our tendency is to try to mitigate or minimize it through our explanations. If we're honest, we villify mystery as something akin to ambiguity. Yet for all my attempts to explain mystery away, life in community beckons me to embrace it. The degree to which we have been united with God and each other and the manner through which this unity was achieved are nothing less than surreal. Words about such truths are not intended to fence in these realities but to give way to wonder. Mystery allows the more subtle, yet most significant, truths to come to life. It also protects us from trivializing the idea of just being together. We escape the wrong-headed mentality that we are what we do and begin to find wonder in that which we are accustomed to overlook. (See Job 26:14, Eph 5:32)

I see mystery in the way God brought the five of us together. People constantly ask how a pasty, white American, a seminarian from the Northeast, two orphans from Sao Goncalo and a girl from Ipanema (or Rio at the very least) ended up under the same roof. We fumble for answers, but there is something inexplicably divine to our bond. There is also this pervasive sense of mystery in discussing the future of the guys. They, just like us, sense they are a part of something special and are being prepared for the same. Then, there are the nights we worship together. Since none of us play an instrument, we'll find songs on YouTube and sing along. But, those nights are much bigger than five people (at least one of which being tone deaf) huddled around a computer screen. Finally, I am reminded of all the moments of silence where we are just with each other. There is no compulsion to fill the space with nervous conversation. The silence is not perceived as a threat or a void. There is just us, and that doesn't demand an excuse or a reason.

Elements of Community - Expressed Dependence upon God (Jeremy and David)

2011-10-27T09:28:00.003-04:00

A healthy community expresses its dependence upon God both repeatedly and overtly. This reliance is not a mere formality, something assumed just because we are a Christian community. Instead, it is a discipline that is celebrated and pursued as the only way that we will see tomorrow together. We tend to romanticize community, thinking it's the natural product of assembling a group of well-intentioned individuals. But, that's not how it plays out in my life. If I get really close to Paulo, I start to get frustrated with his carelessness - more specifically, how many glasses he breaks when he washes dishes. So, I begin to think Paulo is the problem. But, if I'm honest, is my caustic response to him any less subversive to our pursuit of being one than his carelessness? He's tanking our community, but I'm no less the saboteur. The enemy is in the camp. When everyone in the camp is compromised to some degree, you have to look outward for a Savior. And this Savior doesn't save you from community; He saves you through it. In this way, we become dependent upon each other, since ‘each other’ is most often the means by which God does his works of transformation in us. We must come to understand that the core callings of life - the Great Commission, our sanctification, and the glorifying of God - are all team sports. (1 Cor. 12:21; Eph 4:16; John 17:21-23; Mat. 18:20)

The most consistent example of how the Sombra Road House expresses our dependence upon God is our times of communal prayer. Carol, Adilio and Paulo ride to work together, praying in the car as they go. Claudinho and I pray at the kitchen table. Our prayers are pleas for God to help us understand and live Jesus' prayer in John 17. Then, there are the moments of frustration with each other when dependence upon God looks like petitions for patience, humility and the courage to confront. Claudinho confronts me for my impatience in driving. He prays that I may hear, and I'm asking God to silence my ego which so wants rationalize some defense. Sometimes, guys like Anderson choose to leave the house. In these moments, dependence upon God manifests itself in our continued prayers that Anderson would be led back into community with us. When we are driving to the morro for soccer class, we are asking God to give us words and love that speak into these kids' lives.

Still, we have much to learn in the area of dependence upon God. I see how revisiting the way we buy groceries, pay bills, receive visitors and observe the Sabbath could all lead us to greater understanding of our true need for Him. But, this is nothing in comparison to how we in the house have to learn to depend upon God by becoming dependent upon one another. We are all a bit too contaminated with the notion that our spiritual walk is merely a vertical issue - God and I. I am hopeful that we will grow to embrace our need for one another as another expression of our greater need for God.

Community

2011-10-19T12:05:00.000-04:00

"...that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me." John 17:21

This isn't a inspirational wall calendar verse. For me, it's more like slipping on wet tile and falling so hard on my back that I get the wind knocked out of me. Why? Because it takes a truth that is so foundational to my existence - the unity of Jesus and the Father - and ties it invariably to another truth that couldn't seem more foreign to my experience - that being the unity between believers. Most of us from the West do not have trouble understanding our relationship with God as something personal or individual. Spiritual disciplines and personal behaviors lend themselves quite adequately to articulating this relationship between God and self. But, where God and I is a manageable concept for us, God and we is extremely elusive. Simply put, I cannot seem to trace the dots between you and me and Him. Lamentably, this exaggerated emphasis upon personal experiences with God at the expense of a communal relationship with Him ultimately diverts our eyes from seeing Jesus. The collective we that Jesus introduces in His prayer takes a sword to the inflated individualism that lies at the root of this blindness. I see the Sombra Road Home as a gift, but also as a blade of this sword that is intended to challenge our individualistic inclinations.

This past weekend, Carol, the guys and I travelled about two hours outside of Rio for our first spiritual retreat. We called it Retreat 2011 because that is about the extent of our creativity when it comes to naming things. The purpose of the retreat was to ask God to grow within us a greater understanding and practice of community in order that "the world may believe that He sent Jesus." We carried into the weekend a list of 13 elements that tend to surface in a healthy community of believers. This list was compliled from our experiences, those of friends and those of authors of books dealing with this concept. I thought it may give you a better understanding of what God is doing here by sharing one of these elements each week and the way it plays out in our community. The intention in talking about these elements is not to fence in this reality so that it becomes a manageable concept or a strategy that we can implement. The goal is to find a handle to grab onto, so that we can begin to live community and submit to God’s plans for us in it. My prayer is that God would grow our identification with one another and with Him.

Sight (Jeremy)

2011-09-01T13:53:00.000-04:00

On Monday afternoon, after a morning of random errands, I'm in a neighboring bairro (think burrough) trying to catch a bus home. The sidewalk on which I'm standing, not measuring more than 4 feet in width, is situated between a 8 foot high railway wall and a busy, three-laned road where buses and cars barrel past at speeds exceeding 60 mph. Hailing a bus in such a location demands both visual acuity and spastic arm motions. While I'm waiting, another bus pulls up to the stop and three passengers get off. There is a young man with a guitar, his girlfriend and another gentleman in gray engaging the two in conversation. The three of them cross at the intersection, and then they part company - the young couple to the right and the other man to the left. At this point, the man in gray pulls out a walking stick and begins to tap it in front of him. I observe for a few moments as he ambles down the sidewalk. When he makes it to a section that is particularly narrow, he begins to lean against the wall and feel his way down the road. At that point, I approach him and ask if I can walk besides him to wherever he's going. He graciously accepts.

"Where are you heading?" I ask, hoping he knows the way because I don't know the area that well.

"To the Association for the Blind - just up the road to the right." he responds.

"My name is Jeremy. I'm not from around here."

"I could tell. I'm Wesley. I'm not from around here either."

He then goes on to share with me how he's originally from the northeastern part of Brazil. He came to Rio because he met a girl on-line. I'm quite amused by this, and we talk for a while. He tells me a little about his life here - how he works making brooms at the Association and hangs out with this girl on the weekends. We make it to the door of the Association and exchange cell phone numbers. Then, I ask him if he would like for me to help him inside.

"No," he replies, "I can get around here with my eyes closed."

As I'm walking back to the bus stop, I am genuinely humbled. As much as I would like to be free from such, I am not above preening myself for random acts of service. But, in this case, at this particular moment, I am not tempted with such vanity. Instead, I genuinely recognize that I am much more blessed to have met him than he me. His humor, his refusal to complain (even though the bus driver had missed his stop by a long shot), his humble strength and transparency - it was like a deep breath. I thought about Jesus' perspective on such people, specifically that the broken are a gift and not a burden. In most situations, that truth is not as tangible as it is with Wesley, but I think we find its subtle veracity in our own lives if we give ourselves time to reflect. And I am left wondering how many God-oriented lessons in Wesley-shaped frames I've missed just because I'm in a hurry to make the next bus.

Dads

2011-07-18T10:54:00.000-04:00

On my way to Morro dos Macacos two weeks ago, I spotted a little girl walking with her dad on my street about 20 meters in front of me. She couldn't have been more than six years old. I probably wouldn't have noticed her had it not been for the bundled figure that she carried tenderly against her shoulder.
"That little girl is carrying a baby?!?" I thought, blinking in disbelief. My critical nature sized up her father and lined him up in my sights. "What brand of laziness is this? Maybe with her free arm you can make her tote a couple bags of groceries."

However, as she passed by, I turned around to get a better look, only to realize that what I thought was a baby was merely a doll. Cynicism gave way to guilt, then repentance. In my mind, I came to grips with the weight of this scene. This little girl carried a piece of plastic with more caution and concern than most carry their own flesh and blood, and the reason that she held it in such a manner was exactly because of the man at her side that I had so grossly misjudged ten seconds prior.

Fathers. Loving, present fathers. So much of our work here in Brasil is the fallout of the scarcity of such.

I'm very thankful for my own dad. Beyond that, I learn a lot from my friends who fit this profile. The other night I was talking to one such friend via Skype. I asked him about his kids, and he shared with me an image that has reshaped my ideal of fatherhood. Let me set the context for this image first. This guy has four kids - two young twin girls, a toddler and an infant. Nothing about his situation lends itself towards relaxing Saturday afternoons. However, when he has to go to Home Depot, he doesn't just ditch the kids with his wife in the name of efficiency. He loads all four of them into the car with him and leads his merry little band through the store.

Now, the image that stuck in my mind was his description of cutting the grass. If I have a task like that before me, I'll step back from people in order to get the job done. Not so with this guy. He bought a harness system where he can carry the kids on his back as he cuts. He also bought protective earmuffs for each one of the kids (save the newborn). They all take turns riding on his back while he circles around his lawn. His reason is simple. He decided long ago that he didn't want to live his life in spite of his kids or in function of his kids. Instead, he was determined to share life with his kids. In his case, that meant opting out of the riding lawn mower and giving his kids a ride instead. I'm endebted to my friend for this picture - not only because it shapes my own parenting methods but because it gives me a new understanding of our true Father as well.

A Woman's Touch (Jeremy)

2011-06-20T14:35:00.000-04:00

Winter is officially upon us, beginning tomorrow June 21st. With it comes temperatures that drop into the frigid lower 60's. If you take into account the windchill factor, we're facing bundled-up nights in the upper 50's for the next three months. You may think I say this tongue in cheek, but I'm quite serious. The furious heat of summer has drastically altered my concept of cold, and I get out of bed with teeth chattering these days. The most observable impact that this drop in temperature has upon my existence is in the duration of my showers. I would say that on a typical winter morning I shave two minutes off a shower that four months prior lasted five. The reason is simple - electric shower heads. Water for bathing is not heated in a separate tank and then piped into the shower. Instead, water is warmed as it passes through the heating element of the shower head. This set-up establishes an inverse relationship between the flow of water and its temperature - or, more simply, more water equals colder water. Since my approach is basically to maintain the same water pressure, I adjust to the cold by diminishing the length of my showers. My objective is to get in and out as fast as possible.

Now, my wife is of an entirely different school of thought. Unlike me, she will sacrifice water pressure in order to achieve the maximum amount of heat that she can coax out of the heating element. From outside the bathroom, I can hear the heating element arming and disarming as she meticulously works at adjusting the flow to what I would consider little more than a light mist. Once she has discovered the threshold for the least amount of water necessary to engage the heating element, she will huddle under that tiny hot stream until the steam clouds our bathroom mirrors. She delights in the challenge.

I tell this story to highlight the differences between my wife and I. This week I had the benefit of witnessing how valuable her differences are. As I mentioned in the last post, we've been walking through a more intense stage with the guys, working with some more painful issues from the past. Long story short, my attempt at correcting one of the guys escalated into him packing his stuff to leave. Conflict has always scared this guy, as he prefers flight to fight. I was heated but was also aware of the dangerous ground on which we were treading. I tried to help him see that he was reverting to a dangerous pattern, but he couldn't hear me. At that moment, Carol, with the same measured calmness with which she adjusts the water faucet, began to talk to the guy. I stepped away, and, a few minutes later, he was ready to engage once again. I was both humbled by her and thankful for her. From there, we were able to move into a conversation/prayer that really moved this guy's story forward. I don't tell this story to make much of Carol, as she doesn't read my posts anyways. I write this more to highlight the wisdom of God in creating personalities of such stark contrasts - personalities that ebb and flow with the current of redemption. Surely, He blesses, shapes and confronts us with the people that He gives us. With that, I'm not above flushing the toilet when she is in the shower just to disarm the heating element.

Repairs (Jeremy)

2011-06-06T15:07:00.002-04:00

Our deepest problem is that we seek to find our identity outside the story of redemption.
- Paul David Tripp

People that know me would never ask my opinion about home repair. I once attempted to patch a rather large hole in a wall with caulk. Cars are not my thing either. My wife still mocks me for the incredibly expensive "magic water" that a gas station attendant convinced me to buy when I had my radiator fluid changed. When it comes to problems, I prefer to deal with the arena of interpersonal relationships. But, I find two glaring issues in making a claim like this. First, no one wants to be fixed. Second, who am I to say that I can help?

These issues have surfaced in my mind following some remarkably painful stories that the guys have shared over the last few weeks regarding their pasts. From my experience, we are tempted to fill the wake of silence created by such confessions with one of two alternatives. The first is the quick fix. This is where I shrink another's problem to a manageable symptom of a treatable behavior. Then, I can give them some clear steps to eradicate this behavior from their lives. The second option is passing the buck. I may feel as if I don't have anything to offer so I refer this individual to someone who is more qualified to work with this type of person, thereby reinforcing the distance that this person already feels from those around him. In my mind, neither approach is a valid one. Instead, I think I'm learning that our approach must flow from a right understanding of the Tripp quote at the beginning of this post. Our responsibility is to help people find their story within the context of the redemptive work of a glorious God. While our role will look different in each person's story, the themes of dependence upon the Spirit, an awareness of your own brokenness, a turning towards God, a shared sense of pain and the commitment to walk beside should each be present in some form.

I ask that you please pray alongside us that God would redeem painful experiences, transforming them into a life-giving bridge that reaches into the struggles of others.

Exits (Jeremy)

2011-05-16T14:10:00.000-04:00

The Riddles arrived here in Brasil in February 2006. Five years, four homes, three churches, two children and a red, VW grocery-getter later, they returned to the States. On May 1st, home for them became a place quite distant from us. The night they left was quite somber. There was that unswallowable pain in the back of your throat that invariably gives way to tears, then, hugs. There was the awkward silence that accompanied us to the baggage check. There was the altogether underwhelming goodbye that seemed quite unfit for the occasion and the final left turn around the translucent glass wall of the security check. Then, there was just the space that they had disoccupied. Gone.

But, exits are not all sadness. Walking up Morro dos Macacos last week, two little kids that I've never met but that have seen us around the morro stopped me to ask, "Jason, where's the other one?" Now, what I've discovered from my time in the morro is that most of the kids that are not close to us seem to think of Jason and I as an extension of one identity. To them, our names really don't mean anything. We are Jason and the other one. Jason is the name assigned to the person that they are addressing. The other one is the title given to the one that is not present. Since I was there that day, I was Jason. I didn't correct the kids. I simply replied, "He's returned to the States." But as I continued walking, I reflected on how much both Jason and Kristin are a part of what we do here. I considered the indellible mark they left on me, the guys and a number of kids from the morro. And, in that moment, sadness gave way to gratitude. Suddenly, 4742 miles didn't seem like such a distance.

I ask that you pray for the Riddles. First, Jason needs a job. Second, pray for this period of adjustment for them. While there is the joy of being home with friends and family, there is also the sense of loss for the stories in which they invested five years of their lives that continue on without them. All of us here are genuinely thankful for the time we had with the Riddles and trust that God has greater plans for them still in bringing them home.

Sprouts (Jason)

2011-04-01T14:19:00.000-04:00

Jacob has a book about a boy that wants to grow sunflowers in his father’s garden. The boy chooses the seeds, prepares the dirt, plants the seeds, and cheers on the rain. His part is done. All he can do is wait. At this point in the book the reader can only guess what the outcome will be. It may be a happy ending where the boy’s efforts yield many, enormous plants. Or, the book might be a tragedy where nothing comes out of the ground. God only knows. The boy did his part and he did it well. The outcome is out of his hands.

Cezario is a 14-year-old boy who lives in Morro dos Macacos. He has been with us since we began there in 2007 in our English and soccer classes and in our Bible studies. He has always been a marginal character. Generally I would describe his behavior as poor… that is up until two months ago.

In 2007, Jeremy and I quickly noticed that the kids at Morro dos Macacos show little to no gratitude. Ultimately we believe that their lack of gratitude for what they have here on this earth limits their ability to appreciate God. He is, after all, the giver of all good things. So, we set out to help them appreciate others by creating a few simple rules. The first two of our three rules are: “If you want something ask, ‘please’. If you receive something say, ‘thank you.’” We have been insisting on those couple of rules for almost 4 years. Last year we upped the bar. We began talking about Christian leadership and challenged the kids that participate in our Wednesday soccer ministry to practice habits common to Christianity and leaders. Specifically, we challenged them to encourage one another, not to complain and to serve. At the end of every game Jeremy and I awarded the best player, the best goalie and the best attitude (defined as encourager, positive and servant) with public recognition and sometimes a piece of candy. Cezerio has won best attitude by us countless times and was elected by his peers to win best attitude at last Wednesday’s game. His behavior is phenomenal. I have never seen such a drastic change in behavior in any other kid I have worked with in the past 11 years of ministry.

Jeremy and I are like the little boy in Jacob's book (we are like little boys in more ways than one). We planted seeds by making a plan to change behavior. We prepared the soil by sticking to our plan through difficult times for 4 years now. We have cheered on the rain by praying weekly for these boys. All we can do is wait. What will the outcome be? God only knows. Cezario does not profess to be a Christian, but we receive his change of behavior as a sign that God is at work in his life and of greater things to come.

Thank you all for your prayers and support of this work here.

Sombra Road Staff

In-Laws (Jeremy)

2011-03-18T13:51:00.000-04:00

Paulo and Malu have been dating for a little over a year. In the next few weeks, Carol and I will most likely meet her parents, as they, along with Malu, will be flying in from the southern part of Brazil to spend the weekend in our home. The visit is her dad's idea - a chance for the families to meet. I like the idea. However, I cannot help but feel that we are about to live out a scene from a Wes Anderson film. Consider the following variables:

1) Carol and I (representing Paulo's parents) are just a little older than Senior Carlos and Dona Maria's (Malu's father) oldest son
2) Her parents seem to be quiet talkers, and I'm a foreigner
3) Paulo has never met them, only talking with them over the phone
4) Paulo is finishing high school and Malu has her PhD, currently working with a research team in Sao Paulo
5) This will be the first time that Paulo and Malu actually meet, as their relationship has consisted solely of Skype and phone calls

It is the perfect storm of awkwardness, as all types of social inconveniences have seemingly aligned for one fateful encounter.

The fun side of all of this has been our preparation for the weekend, particularly Paulo's grooming. Carol is handling his table etiquette - posture, arm placement, proper usage of utensils, excusing oneself from the table. I have directed my efforts towards his treatment of her parents - use of titles, conversation starters and eye contact. This crash course in breeding has heightened Paulo's anxiety in meeting her family, which is a good sign in my opinion. First, it shows that he cares about Malu and is willing to undergo this reconditioning to value the people she values. Second, it demonstrates that Paulo maintains a healthy fear for her father - a trait that seems quite effective in keeping couples in bounds relationally. In all of this, it's been quite encouraging to see God take a timid, acceptance-driven teenager from a few years back and transform him into someone capable of caring for/committing to another. But, the real highlight for me is the careful deliberation with which Paulo arranges the silverware on his plate following a meal, invariably followed by an uncertain glance to Carol for approval. Here's to non-conventional weekends.

Transitions (Jason)

2011-03-04T12:23:00.000-05:00

As many of you know from the letter that we sent in February, Kristin and I will be transitioning back to the States by midyear 2011 (see our letter here). We look forward to seeing many of you again and will be in touch once we get settled. In the letter we highlighted some of the ways that God has worked during our time here in Brazil. As I believe it is fitting, I would like to give greater attention to some of those works here in this blog update.

First, I would like to start with REAME, the orphanage. For 10 years now Sombra Road has supported the work of REAME with financial assistance. Tom Carson, a shrewd judge of character, made a wise choice when he decided to invest in Gislaine, REAME's founder and director. Gislaine has administered Sombra Road's investments wisely as she has sheltered hundreds of abandoned children in REAME's 17 years.

Next, we thank God for the opportunity that Sombra Road has had to reach out to many while focusing on a few. We have had the opportunity to conduct weekly Bible studies, English and soccer classes, and prayer meetings with hundreds of disadvantaged youth in our time here in Brazil. Within the past year we have had the benefit of seeing some longstanding relationships pay off with the development of a soccer ministry. Among this group we have been able to have many spiritual conversations and have seen much fruit. However, we are even more thankful for the lives of Claudinho, Paulo Sergio, Paulo Ricardo, Adilio, and Anderson. We thank God that we have been able to share our lives with these young men whom we consider to be close friends. We believe that God has entrusted them to us, that he is doing and will do great things in their lives.

Please pray for us as we make our transition back to the States, for employment and that we would trust in God's guidance and care. Also, pray for Jeremy as he continues Sombra Road's work here in Brazil. Finally, pray for the boys in the Sombra Road Program as they continue to mature and grow in their love for God.

Flooding in Friburgo (Jeremy)

2011-01-14T14:51:00.002-05:00

As many of you may have heard, the towns of Friburgo and Teresopolis (a mountainous region about 2 hours from the Rio’s city limits) were ravaged by flooding this week. The official death toll is at 534, but rescue workers cannot even speculate how many are actually missing. Everyone here follows the news reports quite closely, as most have relatives or friends that live in that area. The stories that have surfaced are horrific, like one father who found the body of one son buried in the mud in search of the other three that are missing. The press has labeled it the most devastating natural disaster in the history of Brazil.

The somewhat chilling part for us in all of this is that Jason, Kristin, Carol and I spent last weekend there. We had purchased one of those Groupon packages for a discount on a bed and breakfast in the area. We used the time to step away from the fast pace of life in Rio. Everything about the place was conducive to rest, as I would describe the area as green and slow. It’s eerie to think how rain can change that in a night. I don’t want to be melodramatic, nor am I trying to revisit the Left Behind series. I just cannot seem to shake how much this speaks of our need for preparedness and unity among believers. I don’t believe that the Western church will continue to be successful in insulating itself from tragedies and suffering. In such, I believe we will also stumble upon our true and real Hope.

Pacification (Kristin)

2010-12-31T08:55:00.000-05:00

As many know, Rio’s favelas (slums) were pockets in the city where the police had no presence or control. In an effort to control violence and lawlessness with the upcoming World Cup (2014) and Olympics (2016), special police units have been created to subdue and control the favelas in Rio. First, the BOPE enters (think military police specially trained in favela warfare) to kick out the drug dealers and take control (Jeremy wrote about it here). After a specific time, control is handed over to the UPP, Unidade de Policia Pacificadora (Pacification Police Unit), whose role is to maintain peace and order and be the law in the community. On November 30th, 2010, the UPP was officially inaugurated in Morro dos Macacos. What does the arrival of the UPP mean? Peace? Normalcy?

I've asked several residents what effect this has had on their lives. Do they see a difference? Most respond similarly, shrugging their shoulders and saying “things are mostly the same except that we don’t see guns.” Apparently the UPP only provides a more superficial "peace." But there is actually more crime now in the favela whereas before most of the crime (other than drug dealing) took place outside of it. When the drug traffickers were in control, residents would not dare steal from one another. Such crime was severely punished. A friend went to the hospital recently and saw a young boy with a bullet wound in the middle of his palm, a common consequence enforced by drug dealers on thieves. But now, when I ask if they can report these incidences of theft to the UPP, residents respond in horror, “no way”. You see, some of the drug gang has returned (though mixed in with the population) and they are watching to see who is talking to the police. Fear still rules in the hearts and minds of those living there.

This false display of peace is evident all over society, even down to the individual. Externally we have an impression of safety, order and tranquility, but internally there exists distress, corruption and violence. The only hope we have, as a society and individuals, is found in Christ and in letting “the peace of Christ rule in your hearts…” (Col 3:15). Please join us in praying for this internal peace to come and reign in the hearts of all men.

Having a Charlie Brown Christmas? (Jason)

2010-12-17T11:47:00.000-05:00

“Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you the meaning of Christmas. Lights, please!” A friend of mine said that when a life falls apart Linus’ words are a message of hope. Charlie Brown had been seeking the true meaning of Christmas. He knew that he didn’t get it. He knew that he was missing something. Why else should he be feeling so disappointed and depressed? He seeks help from Lucy. We learn that, for her, only real estate translates into happiness. Likewise, his sister thinks that satisfaction comes from 10’s and 20’s. Charlie Brown himself seeks fulfillment in being the director of the Christmas play. This only ends in greater disappointment and depression. We all have a similar tendency to take Christ out of the manger and replace him with our frankincense, gold, and iPhone 4’s. All this sets the scene for Linus’ famous monologue. Linus the Wise understands the meaning of Christmas. He knows that the only way to satiate the pining of the human heart is to put Christ in the manger. It is only after Linus reorients Brown’s values system that the story is resolved. Charlie Brown smiles. He finally gets it.

It is our prayer that we all put Christ in the manger this holiday season. Merry Christmas.

A Nontraditional Thanksgiving (Jeremy)

2010-12-03T10:04:00.002-05:00

Nothing on the table last Wednesday night would have indicated that we were celebrating Thanksgiving. No turkey, no dressing, no sweet potatoes - just 3 pounds of noodles and a bucket of spaghetti sauce. Yet, for all its simplicity, the evening transmitted a sense of gratitude that would have made our forefathers proud. After the meal, each of us had an opportunity to express our appreciation to God for the things He has given. Here's a run down of what each had to say (besides Claudinho who was working).

Jason - my wife, Jacob, the baby on the way and Sombra Road
Kristin - my mom's successful surgery, the baby and Jacob (besides those mentioned in the previous blog)
Paulo - Sombra Road and how it is a family for him, the guys in the house and his mother
Ronnie (a guy from the favela) - His mom, his girlfriend, his friendship with Marcos Paulo and Jefferson and his relationship with the people of Sombra Road
Adilio - his family, his girlfriend and his growing relationship with Jason

Jeremy - Marriage with Carol, privilege to be around the guys, Kristin, Jason and family and friends here and in the States

Anderson - the hope he feels for the future that God is preparing for him and the way Sombra Road has become a family for him

Carol - our Sombra Road family, her parents and brothers, and a loving, servant-minded husband that does not merely listen to her but actually intuits her very essence (she didn't exactly say this last part, but I could tell that this is what she desired to express)

In looking over the list, I know there is nothing remarkable about it. The entire activity could be little more than a mindless exercise in civic responsibility - like a kid expressing his gratitude for the socks his grandmother gave him for Christmas, parroting the words that mom and dad had scripted for him on the ride to her house. However, I think that these moments allowed us to step out of the routine and appreciate the privilege of our present reality. I hope that even if your own Thanksgiving was too busy for thankfulness (as mine often is) that you would prioritize stepping back this season to find it in your own life.

Thankfulness (Kristin)

2010-11-19T21:05:00.000-05:00

'Tis the season...to be thankful. It's sad how this coming holiday is almost completely overshadowed by the commercialism of the one to come. I wish more emphasis was put on Thanksgiving...on being thankful to God for what this year has brought us, the good and the bad, knowing that our perfect heavenly Father has our lives in His hands and transforms even ashes to beauty.

We are thankful this year...

for Jeremy and Carol's marriage
for the blessing of new life growing in Kristin's belly (and growing, and growing)
for Anderson successfully completing a rehabilitation program and returning to live and grow with us
for Claudinho's good job
for Paulo returning to the Sombra Road House
for Adilio growing more and more in maturity in Christ
for Jacob's health and joy
for God's guidance and direction in the future of our ministry
for God's provision even in difficult times

What are you thankful for?

Additionally, we would like to invite you all to a beneficiary concert in support of Sombra Road. Our dear friend, Kristin Turney Jones, has kindly offered her (and her band's) amazing talent and time in order to help us raise needed funds. The entrance to the concert is free, with donations requested. Please see the invitation below and invite your friends:

Good Try (Jason)

2010-11-05T12:50:00.000-04:00

Several months ago Jeremy sent me this email:

Claudinho recently bought a cell phone direct from China. He asked me to translate something from the manual into Portuguese. This is exactly what is written:

You can information and others of the usage writing carry on confabulation. Chat has diagrammed a mark to show at which chat room. Chat function of operation with get to the Internet chat homology.

I thought maybe you could help me out. I know so little about confabulation these days.

I can just imagine the guy who wrote this manual bragging to his co-workers saying, “English - English is practically my first language. I got this.” When it comes to cell phone manuals it is not the end of the world if you get it wrong. The same does not apply to life.

We have been talking a good deal about Paulo lately, both in our blog entries as well as in our staff meetings. Paulo thought that, in his own strength, he could be good enough, smart enough, motivated enough, etc. to succeed and achieve all his dreams. He has come to a point in life where reality has weighed down hard leaving him disillusioned and depressed. We have been trying to help him see that he has at least three choices: he can give up, he can try harder, or, he can lean on Jesus. This may seem simplified, but I think that this is the reality. Paulo is not the type to give up. However, he, as well as all of us, runs the risk of just trying harder. It is our prayer that Paulo would not settle for what he can do for himself. We pray that he, coming to the end of self, would rest on Christ. We hope that Paulo, unlike the manual writer, would not say, “I got this”, but that he would turn to Jesus in desperation and say with Peter “Lord, to whom shall we go?” Please pray for Paulo this month. We believe that he is in a very impressionable period. Pray that his life would be marked by dependence on Christ.

A Different View of the Favela (Jeremy)

2010-10-22T13:38:00.001-04:00

There are a couple of recent events that I wanted to relay, so this post will run less like a story and more like an update. First, the special forces police assumed control of Morro dos Macacos on Thursday of last week, supplanting the local drug lords. Rumors have been circulating since March that this would happen sometime late this year or early next, as Rio prepares for the World Cup of 2014 and the Olympics of 2016. Still, we were all quite surprised when it actually happened. The interesting aspect of this somewhat non-traditional coup was that it all went down without a shot being fired. The drug lords had been forewarned of the attack and chose to flee to neighboring favelas instead of putting up a fight. Police occupation of the favela has engendered a type of temporal and superficial peace. Now, we walk the tight streets with less concern about where to hide if we got caught in crossfire between gang members and police. Today, we were even able to take pictures of Kristin, Jason and her family (see above) in the favella, an act that would have been inconceivable a week and a half prior. This means that the scene that Kristin captured in her last post on our blog will play out on other hills for the time being. But, we are not convinced of the long-term effectiveness of this measure. While it makes life easier for now, it could be creating more problems for tomorrow. I compare it to placing a band-aid on skin cancer. Nonetheless, we wait to see what God will do with the more favorable conditions.

As for the guys in the house, this week was marked by some encouraging conversations. Adilio is starting to connect the dots between today's habits and tomorrow's reality. Claudinho made a great comment about his tendency (and ours) to make morality rather than God's grace the central theme of his story. Anderson trusts himself a little less and God a little more these days. Finally, Paulo is starting to believe that the bad things he learned about himself while he was away are not a threat to God's grace but rather an invitation to it. We love living with these guys because of all they have to offer us (which doesn't negate the fact that they still need to learn to lift the seat).

Not Just Fireworks (Kristin)

2010-10-13T09:53:00.000-04:00

We have a wonderful view of "our" favela from our apartment. We not only get the view, but the sounds that come with it as well. Sometimes that means all night rave parties that make me wonder how anyone living closer manages to sleep at all. Sometimes it's the fireworks that are set off at seemingly random times (normally in the middle of the night). Many times it's police helicopters and such, and occasionally it's machine gun fire and other atrocious racket. Here is a video clip of one such night. It only lasted 15 minutes or so, but it leaves one shaking knowing that those bullets are landing somewhere and thousands of people and children are huddled on the floor of their rickety homes in total fear.

These favelas are mini war zones, but people are still engaged in life: going to work, to school, having birthday parties, planning a wedding, etc. Most importantly, churches still meet, prayer is lifted up, our Lord is worshiped and His gospel is spread. No matter where we live or what we do, this is our calling: to worship our God and spread the Good News. Please pray for the churches in this favela, that they would be bold, faithful and glorify our Lord. Pray also for the teenagers we work with in this favela, that their hearts would be open to our God of hope.

The Blessedness of Dependence (Jason)

2010-09-24T13:34:00.001-04:00

Claudinho washes cars at a Volkswagen dealership by day and at night he takes a class to prepare himself to enlist in the military as an officer. Adilio is in seminary, studies English and French, and is involved with his church. Paulo works and is heavily involved in Sombra Road House activities. Anderson currently lives at the rehabilitation center and visits every other weekend. I look at the lives of these guys and see how they rely on others. If Sombra Road left Rio tomorrow, the bottom would fall out for these four guys. Anderson, no doubt, would feel the affects most poignantly. He would return immediately to the streets as his only living relatives are homeless. All four of these guys’ lives are built on dependence, especially Anderson.

The natural human tendency is to move away from dependence toward self-sufficiency. Financially speaking, this is the American dream. Our golden parachute can become a twisted fiber noose suffocating our ability to trust that it is God who provides. Kristin and I are just as prone as any to trust in our own means. In fact, I feel my attempts at self-sufficiency pressing in on me daily like a runner in the Peachtree Road Race caught in a massive wave of athletes. However, Kristin and I consider it a blessing to live in dependence upon your support. It is one more area in our lives where we can see God’s sovereignty in action.

Anderson, whether he feels it or not, depends on Sombra Road. He depends on Jeremy, Carol, Kristin and I being there for him on the weekends when he comes home. He depends on Tom Carson back in Atlanta to help steer the ministry and to give counsel to Jeremy and I. Like us, Anderson also depends upon you, our supporters, who give faithfully supporting this whole system.

Thank you.

Matthew 18:10-14 (Jeremy)

2010-09-14T13:10:00.001-04:00

Paulo

Jesus once told the story of a man that owned a hundred sheep. When one of his sheep came up missing, he left the other ninety-nine in order to search for it. Eventually, he found the one that was lost, and Jesus explains that the joy he felt over the one recovered far exceeded his joy over the other ninety-nine safe at home. Now, this story offers a remarkable hope. But if you are anything like me, you really run the risk of missing it, and the reason for such is because you misunderstand your role in the story.

Paulo Ricardo joined us in December of last year. In his first five months with us, we saw some cool things happen in his life (as we’ve mentioned in other blogs). But in May/June of this year, he hit a rough patch. Without going into too much detail, his commitment to his job and girlfriend started to take precedence over his commitment to us. Both staff and student made a point to challenge this trend in his life (through words and discipline), but he continued wading further out into deeper waters. It was during this phase that I started doing some investigating and discovered that things were worse than I had thought. Now, my tendency in such moments is to come in and save the wandering sheep by interposing my will. After all, I am the shepherd who is responsible for the sheep, aren’t I? But it was at this point that a wise man encouraged me to see my own limitations in Paulo’s story. He pointed out that while I can love Paulo, walk beside him and even serve him by offering a structured environment in which he grows in accordance with his decisions to follow after Jesus, I cannot make his decisions for him. Through this conversation, the characters of our little drama fell into place. Paulo continued in his role as the lost sheep, but I suddenly found myself recast as one of the ninety-nine (one previously found albeit), which vacated the shepherd’s role for the only One fit to assume it, Jesus. Accordingly, my approach toward Paulo changed. I gave clear responsibilities and consequences as opposed to manipulative sermons or victimized pleas. Shortly thereafter, the day arrived when he had to choose between his job and the house. Staff and student alike shared their assessment of the situation and encouraged him to press on with us, but he decided to leave. That was in July. The next two months were excruciating for him and painful for us. We remained accessible, but we waited for the Lord to bring him back. Two weeks ago, He did just that. Paulo came home, broken and repentant. He’s now back with us and, in some tangible ways, more committed than ever. And I find myself left with both a lesson and a deep sense gratitude to the One who brought Paulo home and never tires of doing the same with me.

Hope for the Hopeless (Kristin)

2010-08-26T09:07:00.008-04:00

(Aline is on the far right)

The first time I met Aline, we were both pregnant. I was 29 and pregnant with my first; she was 18 and pregnant with her third. After our kids were born, we lost touch. She drifted out of the project we partner with in the favela and I had no way to get in touch with her. That was 3 years ago. About 6 months ago I ran into her randomly in the favela. It was great to see her and I was grateful to hear that she hadn't yet added a fourth child to the mix. I set up a time to visit her in her home.

Aline lives alone in a very poor house with her 3 little girls. Her own parents died when she was 7 years old and she was raised by her older brother who was involved in drug trafficking. She's been living by herself for a long time. Her girls have different fathers who are not involved in their lives and she has no job and no prospect of one. I felt so overwhelmed and depressed as I left from my visit. The question ringing in my mind, "What can I possibly DO?" Her situation left me feeling helpless and hopeless, because I look at her girls and I see them, young as they are, already running wild with no structure or stability and I think will this cycle ever be broken?

Then I have hope, because I remember Him...the Great Cycle-Breaker. The One who changes families, changes histories, gives hope, and redeems. I thank God that He lives to intercede in our miserable lives. I thank God that he gives me hope and that I can pass along that hope to others. Please pray for Aline and her girls. Pray for her situation. Pray that God will interfere and redeem. Pray that I will be a light for Him in her life as I continue to visit her.

Selfless (Jason)

2010-08-05T22:39:00.006-04:00

Kristin and I are home for a visit. It has been a great opportunity to reconnect with friends and family. Not long ago I was with two friends. One had the ability to help the other but chose not to. The situation made me frustrated with my one friend and sorry for the other. The long and short of it is that the one was not willing to put himself out there for the other. The whole situation left me with a feeling of injustice.

When I reflect on this incident with these two friends, I am reminded of Jeremy, our friend and partner in Brazil. Jeremy delights in putting himself out for others. I have seen a transformation in his life over the last four years because he decides to say “yes” rather than “no”. He gives of himself like no one else I know; he is an open hand, always giving. The best part is that if you were to tell Jeremy that he is a selfless person he would say something like, “I am glad that God chooses to encourage you in that way” reflecting the glory back to God.

I wanted to write this about Jeremy because more than being an organization that is about helping kids, we are an organization that is about shaping people to be what God wants them to be… starting with us.

May 22, 2010

2010-07-09T16:02:00.009-04:00

When I look at people's wedding pictures, I prefer to be the one holding the album. In this way, I control the pace. I find that when a newly wedded couple is entrusted with the responsibility of flipping the pages, each picture becomes a story, and the album, in turn, a Russian novel. On this side of marriage, I understand the sentimentality of the images that capture this event and a couple's desire to share this. Still, I will allow you to peruse these few pictures at your own pace.

As for married life, at a month and a half in, I think we've got it down. However, it will take me another month to finish the book that I'm writing on the subject I'm right, I win, Just Listen. Seriously though, we are really enjoying our life together. I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that we enjoyed our lives even before we met. This doesn't mean that we delighted in those solitary Saturday nights of scanning the Blockbuster aisles. I remember quite vividly returning to REAME's gates at night, knowing that no one was waiting for up for me. So, I won't belittle the struggles of my single friends by saying this glibly. I just feel it necessary to affirm the hope of a Saviour who doesn't always employ marriage or loving parents or wealth to communicate His severe love for us.

Baby, Baby, Baby, Ohh.

2010-06-18T16:01:00.004-04:00

Paulo Ricardo was the first guy in the house to like Justin Bieber. He made us all sit down and watch the video “Baby” on Youtube. That was a Tuesday. Before the week was out, Claudinho’s ringtone had changed, Adilio was repeating the chorus ad nauseam and Anderson was singing his own interpretation of the song (one that desperately needed subtitles). The fact that these guys are Bieber fans cannot be attributed solely to his musical ability. I think they like him in part because they would like to be him. After all, he housesits for Usher, hangs with Ludacris and his videos clog the Favorites page for half of the girls in the States (their ages notwithstanding). But for all of his success, I cannot help but feel sorry for Justin Bieber. When I look at him, I cannot shake images of Macaulay Culkin, Lindsay Lohan or the Olsen twins – kids that are stars one day and social pariahs the next. It’s only a matter of time before the media starts tanking the affable character that they have created, and he starts sporting a moustache.

Claudinho’s story is on a completely different trajectory than that of Justin Bieber’s. Girls don’t line up to talk to him, his videos on Youtube don’t have more than 20 views (15 of them his) and, up until a month ago, he was making about 70 cents an hour. But, the cool thing about Claudinho’s story is how it seems to embody the truth “he who is faithful with little will be entrusted with much.” In life, Claudinho just plods along, doing what he’s supposed to. That could mean arriving early at church to clean up or opting to go to bed over watching a late night soccer match because he has to work in the morning. But, I trust that that steady plodding will pay off, just as it did when he recently landed a job with a great company where there is room for growth. There was nothing miraculous about the way he got the job. A guy from church recognized Claudinho’s faithfulness and recommended him for an open position. But, I am amazed with the way that God cares for this 19 year old man, using life’s seemingly normal circumstances to shape within him a character and perseverance that is anything but normal.

Surprises (Jason)

2010-05-09T10:38:00.005-04:00

I never thought that I would be so happy to see excrement as when Jacob went “poopy on the potty” a few days ago. There are lots of unexpected surprises with parenthood. In a way we are not only parents to Jacob, but also to our boys in the Sombra Road House. For this reason I was surprised to discover that on Thursday night, after I left our Bible study, Claudinho, Paulo, Anderson and Adilio had made dinner for Dalton. On Thursday nights, we do a Bible study for the youth group at church, half of which consists of the four aforementioned boys that live in the House. So, why should I be so pleased by the fact that they made dinner for someone? The fact that four teenage boys were considerate enough to feed any mouth but their own is sufficient. However, once I describe Dalton you should be all the more impressed.

The Sombra Road House, as much as it is a shelter for these boys is an experiment in community. Our aim is that our core group, comprised of both staff and students, would so express the love of Christ to one another that outsiders would themselves be drawn to Christ. However, once you open yourself up to outsiders you never know whom you will attract. Dalton is one of these people - he is a unique fellow who is difficult to love. He is the guy whom you would try to go unnoticed by if you saw him in the grocery store so as to avoid a conversational assault. We all know the type. He is a Christian who has bounced around from church to church looking for acceptance. There is much to be said about Dalton, but the point here is that Claudinho, Paulo, Anderson and Adilio made themselves servants to him. Their act of making dinner for Dalton is an example of the type of service to which Jesus calls us also.

Please pray that these four guys would continue to grow in their love for Christ and that that love would manifest itself in acts like making dinner for Dalton.

She's Back! (Kristin)

2010-04-16T10:58:00.012-04:00

In January, I wrote about Taiza (pictured on the right), one of the girls I do Bible study with in the favela. Basically, Taiza "disappeared" after the start of my Bible study with these two girls. You can read the post here. Well, I'm very excited to share that she is back and has been faithfully attending Bible study for several weeks now.

Her first week back, I took Maria and Taiza to the mall for Bible study and pizza to celebrate her return. I asked her why she hadn't come back sooner and she replied that she was embarrassed. I told her that she should never be embarrassed to come back to people that love her. She had tears in her eyes as we talked about God's grace and His work of salvation on the cross.

I can see her growing in her understanding of the Gospel. She has professed her faith in Christ, but has much to learn. Every week, she prays that God would give her the strength to stay on the right path, to continue Bible study and to surround herself with people who want her best. She lives in a very dark world.

Please continue to pray with us: 1) that God would continue to open her eyes to his Truth, 2) that the power of the Gospel would continue to break the bonds of sin in her life, and 3) that God would keep her safe in the shadow of His wings as she grows.

Dona Ana (Jeremy)

2010-04-01T14:40:00.003-04:00

In my last post, I made reference to Dona Ana (the director of the community center) and to the pain that she has been experiencing in her legs. Her doctor placed her on some medication which was intended to treat this problem. However, these drugs really messed with her stomach - creating a lot of pain in her stomach and destroying her appetite. About two weeks ago, she went to get this checked out and discovered that she has stomach cancer. We still know so little, as she is waiting to receive back the results of her exam. But, I wanted to ask those of you who follow the blog to be praying for her. I can see her fighting to maintain her characteristic optimism through all of this - attempting to assuage others' fears by masking her own. However, this is an extremely difficult fight, as she doesn't even know the extent of the problem. I know that this lady, who has prayed for so many people over the years, just needs some people to do the same for her right now. I hope that we can be that for her. As we find out more, we'll keep you posted.

Holy Land Honeymoon! (Jason)

2010-03-19T10:18:00.009-04:00

I heard a commercial on the radio the other day advertising trips to the Holy Land, "Terra Santa". The ad had an inverse effect. I don’t want to vilify religious experience trips. It is just that this ad, with its cheesy music, was oriented to religious individuals hoping to capitalize on their religious feelings. I would rather stay put than give my money to someone who is so obviously capitalizing on religious experience. So, I decided that it would be the perfect place for Jeremy and Carol to spend their honeymoon (insert sarcasm). I decided I would call this particular travel agency, posing as Jeremy, and ask to be sent more information, all the information that they could send; the more the better. Beyond this, I would ask if they could call my fiancé and convince her that such a trip would be a great way to spend our honeymoon. So, the following day I Googled the name of the travel agency, found the phone number and, in my deviance, called. When the woman one the other side of the phone answered, I was so busy scrolling through my cell phone to find Carol’s number that I did not hear how she introduced herself. Immediately I told her that I was interested in a trip to Israel. “Excuse me?”, she responded. I repeated, verbatim, “I would like more information about a trip to Israel.” To Israel?, she responded. “Yes, the Holy Land”, I said. This type of exchange is very common to me being a foreigner and all. “Sir”, she said, “Do you realize that you have called a taxi company?"

More than tell the story of a particular kid or a moral lesson, the point of this blog entry is to ask you to pray for us. Start with me. I do things like this all too frequently bringing embarrassment on myself and all other foreigners. Then pray for Sombra Road as we adapt (or fail to adapt) to the difficulties of living in a foreign country. Finally, pray for the foreigner down the street from you or at church or work; and invite him over for dinner.

Grace. Sometimes people just don't get it. (Kristin)

2010-03-06T18:27:00.011-05:00

There are constant mini-wars between the police and the drug traffickers (banditos) in the favelas. The police typically come in the favelas to search for drugs, weapons and/or specific people. These events are heralded with shooting from both parties, which eventually stops as the banditos hide among the houses and the police do their business. The police use a large, bullet-proof vehicle dubbed the Caveirao ("Big Skull") to enter the favelas. It's massive and has small holes for the police on the inside to shoot out of. Terrible things can happen in the belly of the Caveirao to the apprehended banditos...most are sent to jail, but we've heard that some don't come out alive.

Last week a similar scenario took place in the favela where we work, we could hear the shooting from our apartment as we had our weekly meeting. The next morning, at Friday morning prayer, we listened in amazement at the story that Dona Ana told us.

The Caveirao entered Morro dos Macacos with guns blazing, but on its exodus from the favela, it stopped right in front of the community center...something that has never happened before. A policeman exited the vehicle, dragging an 18 year old boy that had been apprehended into the community center. Bleeding and smelling terribly of the bodily excrements that were filling his pants, he was released to Dona Ana. The policeman explained, "I feel like an angel told me to drop this kid off here." Then he left.

This young man had been handed two immeasurable gifts...his freedom and his life. Like Jonah, he had been graciously spit out of the belly of the whale. The difference between Jonah and this young man lies in their response: Jonah responded in repentance and obedience to God's call, the young man responded, "will you ask them to give me my hat back." You heard correctly. He had the nerve to ask Dona Ana to go after the police in the enormous death tank to give him his hat back. Didn't he realize his life had just been sparred?

We listened to this story with mouths agape; knowing the grace that was given this man to be freed from the Caveirao and aghast that his only apparent concern was for a hat. He had obviously been afraid for his life at some point...I mean, he did numbers 1 and 2 in his pants for crying out loud. How can he not realize what had been done for him? Where was his repentance?

God has offered all of us a similar grace...life and freedom through his Son, Jesus Christ, and yet it breaks my heart to think of all the people that respond the same way this young man responded, completely blind to it, ignorantly saying "I want my hat."

Lord, please make the blind see and the deaf hear! And let me not be blind to your grace in my own life.

Confessions of a Recovering Hypochondriac (Jeremy)

2010-02-19T07:53:00.008-05:00

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)

2010-02-05T10:18:00.009-05:00

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.

The Thief (Kristin)

2010-01-21T18:01:00.009-05:00

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. John 10:10

The thief reacts quickly. You see, two weeks ago I had the first Bible study with Taiza and Maria. They were so hungry to learn about God, especially Taiza. She stared at me with large, inquisitive eyes throughout our time together - time spent learning how to look up books in the Bible finding the chapter and verse, time spent talking about God as Creator and about His desire for us to know Him because he loves us so. Taiza's excitement was contagious - she being the person that suggested we do the Bible study in the first place. But in today's Bible study, it was only myself and Maria. Where was Taiza?

She's disappeared - and not just from Bible study. She has vanished from the community center as well. For the last several days, she has been on a drug binge, and the vicious addiction-guilt cycle has forced her into running - running from her responsibilities, from the people that care about her, and most importantly, from God.

But I am confident that HE who began a good work in her WILL carry it on to completion. I am praying for her and I ask that you would also pray for her. Pray that Satan's hold on her life right now would be broken and that God would draw her back to Him and to people that will lead her in a relationship with Him so that she may have life and have it to the full. Pray also that I may have the sensitivity to the Spirit to encourage and confront her with Truth.

What's He Saying? (Jeremy)

2010-01-08T09:30:00.006-05:00

Four months into my first year here, a lady that worked at REAME invited me to the church in which her son served as the pastor. On that particular Sunday morning, I arrived late and tried to hide inauspiciously in the back row. It was to no avail, as my friend, with her hawk-like eyes, picked me off and dragged me up to the front. She introduced me to her son, who, minutes later, assumed the pulpit. From my seat on the front row, he introduced me to the congregation. Then, he announced that he would like for me to pray for the church after his sermon. However, with only six months of language experience, the difference between future and present tense was lost on me. So, I hopped out of my seat and made my way to the pulpit at that very moment. Everyone stared up at me with confused looks, while the pastor kindly clarified that he would call me up to pray after his sermon. I slithered back to my seat, wondering if my face was as red as it was hot. Forty minutes later, the fateful moment arrived. I climbed the stairs again, grabbed the microphone, and began. “Father, thank you for your brother Jesus…” I would love to say that it got better from there, but based on the eerie silence of the congregation, it didn’t. I didn’t know what I was saying, and instead of just keeping it short, I just kept going. Out of my mouth came a whirlwind of words that were completely incoherent to both me and the congregation. It was like watching a wounded animal suffer, where you are just waiting for someone to put it out of its misery.
I think last Friday night probably had a similar feel. Carol (my girlfriend), her family and I were gathered around the family dinner table. I got down on one knee and started spewing the same non-sense that I had almost six years ago. I remember saying the word love, God and marry but not much else. The idea of asking her in front of her parents was an attempt to respect something I value in her culture, but I was starting to question the intelligence of that decision. Her brother sat across the table, shifting in his seat, empathizing with my pain. I wanted to stop and start over, but, in situations like these, you don’t have the luxury of a reset button. Sometimes life is poetry, and sometimes it is more like a tragic comedy. Her gracious yes seemed to reign it all in and tag a fitting ending to what was otherwise a wonderful day. So, yes, we are now engaged. Our plan is to get married in late May and to continue living with the guys (with some space of our own of course). I find myself extremely grateful to God for the remarkable woman that he has entrusted to me.

The Word Became Flesh (Jason)

2009-12-26T09:40:00.008-05:00

“The Word became flesh and [pitched his tent] among us” (John 1:14). Ten different Bibles will yield ten different translations for this Greek word skenoo. The above translation is my favorite. The NIV says “made his dwelling” while some other translations even say he “tabernacled” among us. My Greek dictionary translates the word skenoo “to encamp, to reside or to dwell (as did God in the Old Testament tabernacle.” All the translations get at one basic idea, the God who was there came here. God stepped into our world in a human form; he “pitched his tent” among us. This is what we celebrate at Christmas.

Kristin and I are homesick right now. We want the comfort and familiarity of being with our families. We want grandparents to enjoy Jacob. We want cold weather, mashed potatoes, and 24 hours of “It’s a Wonderful Christmas”. Instead we get Brazil. Tonight we have been invited to spend Christmas with Carol’s family (Jeremy’s girlfriend). Their tradition is interesting. Carol’s father, who is the president of a seminary, opens the school and his family on Christmas Eve. Anyone is welcome to come and celebrate. The usual attendees are some staff and students who do not have family. The occasional homeless person, drug addict or foreigner might also be in attendance, a true black tie event. The point is that Carol’s family is very intentional about “pitching their tent” among the world. Christ’s sacrifice for humankind is embodied in their service to Rio’s disenfranchised.

It is our hope that you have a wonderful Christmas and that you, in your own way, share Christ’s love with others.

Merry Christmas.

Diverging Paths (Kristin)

2009-12-10T17:46:00.012-05:00

1 Corinthians 3:7 "So neither he who plants, nor he who waters is anything,
but only God, who makes things grow."

As both cousins and friends, these girls have grown up together in the slum where we work. We've known them for a while now, and it's interesting to see the different paths that they are choosing. Larissa (on the left) is choosing a path that is leading her further away from God and the church. She is surrounding herself with people who choose "I am" instead of the "I AM".

Bianca, on the other hand, couldn't be more involved with church. She's there almost every day. In fact, I worry that she's too involved to the point in which her relationships with her unbelieving family may be eroding. You see, she goes to church, at least in part, to avoid her "annoying" mother and sister. But hiding in the church won't solve her problems at home and in her heart. If she doesn't learn to extend God's grace to her own family, she will one day regret missing out on these relationships.

These girls are going in different directions, but they seem to get hung up on the same issue... God's grace. One won't accept it, the other doesn't want to share it.

Please join us in praying for these girls. Pray for Larissa, that God would change the condition of her heart to enable a love for Him to grow. Pray for Bianca, that God would bring her to a maturity in her faith and make her an instrument that He uses to lead her family to Jesus.

Heroes (Jeremy)

2009-11-25T19:27:00.003-05:00

Probably one of the most gruesome bathrooms that I have ever used was also the setting for one of the most compelling stories of heroism that I have ever experienced. It was Aprilish 2004, and I was working a shift at REAME. This meant that I was responsible for the monstrous staff keychain – one central ring filled to capacity with all of these other smaller rings spawning off of it. Needless to say, it didn’t fit in my pocket, so I just carried it around all day in my hands. That wasn’t a problem, except for when, out of dire necessity, I had to use the bathroom. I use the words “out of dire necessity” very deliberately, for the outdoor REAME bathroom was not for the faint of heart. It was a 4’ by 6’ window-less heat-box with a toilet that did not flush. There was a bucket on the floor that was supposed to be filled with water and then emptied into the toilet to flush down any contributions. It was a noble thought, but that bucket never got used. Instead, kids used the toilet until it reached its capacity, and then they started using the floor. There was a ten foot radius of stink that encapsulated that tiny bathroom, warning those that approached of the terror that lurked within. I had to come up with a strategy anytime my bladder felt as if it would give way. First, I would start holding my breath about fifteen feet away. Upon entering, I would secure the staff keychain with my teeth. I would then navigate my way through the mess on the floor by lunging from one clean spot to the next until I reached the toilet. I would urinate (for anything beyond that could wait) and then hightail it out of there, waiting until I was once again outside of the radius of stink to begin inhaling. On this particular day, however, my strategy failed me. I made it successfully through the first few steps. But, when I was standing over the toilet with the keys clasped between my teeth, I ran out of air. I miscalculated the amount that I would need, and I had to inhale. However, I could not bring myself to inhale through the nose. So, I opened my mouth to draw a breath, and with that, the staff keys fell into the murky swamp before me with an eerie silence. I made it back to the group and explained what had happened. The other staff stared at me with a look of horror, knowing the fate that awaited me. I had to go back for those keys. So, I went to my car, fuming with anger and frustration, in frantic search of every plastic bag I could find to aid in this mission. I concocted a plan that involved a wire used to fish the keys out. The other staff gathered around me in effort to console. I was just about to head back in when out of the bathroom came Anderson, one of the kids, with his bare hand held high, clutching the mass of dripping keys. We ran to him - cheering. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I, who had dropped those keys into the toilet, felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to the one who had fished them out in my place. For the five minutes that it took him to recount that story and the few days that followed, Anderson was my hero.

Anderson now finds himself in a different place. Three years ago, he left REAME and started down the wrong path. This path involved drugs, living in abandoned houses and other questionable activities. When we met up last Friday for the first time since he left, I hardly recognized him. He was filthy and emaciated. Those years of hard living had taken their toll. Now, we find him broken and feeling as if he has nowhere else to turn. Now, he’s the one in need of a hero. Fortunately for him, we know and intend to introduce him to the Hero that he is seeking. Today, we got Anderson into a rehab center that will take six months to complete. We will continue to walk beside him with the hope that when these six months end, he will be able to join us in our house. Please pray for his first 30 days, as we are not permitted to visit him during this time.

God of the Marvelous City (Brianna Morgan)

2009-11-13T09:58:00.009-05:00

(taken from the top of Morro dos Macacos)

The two weeks I spent with Sombra Road in Rio de Janeiro were so impactful to me. I can’t say that I have ever had a heart for Brasil until recently. However, after spending some time there, my heart beats to a new drum – one that leaves me aching and praying for the beautiful people of Brasil. I was able to catch a glimpse of what it would be like to live in Rio, hang out with kids in the favela, go on some beautiful hikes, spend time with the kids at Reame, try exotic fruits, and stay with a Brazilian family for a few nights.

Of all the amazing experiences I had, the last day I spent in the favela (Morro dos Macacos) left the biggest impression upon me. Six teenage boys in Jason and Jeremy’s afternoon class took us to the top of the favela. It was quite a trek to the top, and the song "The God of This City" played in my head the entire climb. It felt like we were climbing stairs for years, weaving in and out of little alleys between the homes. The further up we walked, the poorer the homes were. Some were just cardboard and trash nailed together to form walls. The people who live at the top have to walk those stairs anytime they need anything (there are no roads for cars at the top). Some even have to carry water up because they do not have access to such.

When we got to the top of the hill, there was a little pasture with a large cross off to one side. The pasture overlooked the enormous city of Rio de Janeiro. As we made our way towards the cross, there were about 10 young men with guns overlooking the other side of the hill, to make sure that drug dealers from the rival gang were not trying to invade. They didn’t really seem to care that we were up there so we just kept walking.

When we got to the cross there was a man, about the age of twenty, sitting by it, gun in hand. He was very friendly and started talking to us. He ended up telling us that he had been shot five times in his life and pointed to each scar. At that point, Jason said something along the lines of, “God has spared your life for a reason.” After that we ended up praying with him. We stood in a circle, holding hands on the top of that favela, praying to the God of the universe. And the lyrics of that song played in my head, “Greater things have yet to come, and greater things are still to be done in this city.”

God is the God of the people of Morro dos Macacos, whether they know it or not. He created each of them, fashioned their hearts individually (Psalm 33:15), and longs to give them the full life that He died to give. The drug dealers, the prostitutes, the kids who are stuck growing up there. It's encouraging to remember that God isn't finished yet - greater things are left to be done in that city. There is a Hope for the seemingly hopeless.

Acts 17:26- 28 “And He has made from one blood every nation of men to dwell on all the face of the earth and has determined their preappointed times and the boundaries of their dwellings, so that they should seek the Lord, in the hope that they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him with live and move and have our being…”

A Contagious Fear (Jeremy)

2009-10-29T08:06:00.004-04:00

(Marcos Paulo, Ronnie and Jefferson)

Whenever the United States loses to Brazil in anything, my Brazilian friends make sure that I know all about it. So, when Rio was granted the 2016 Olympics over Chicago and other contenders, I expected the typical harassment. But, it never came. Instead, concerns about the city’s violence seemed to eclipse any type of celebration – especially in the wake of the events of October 17th. On this day, rival gangs went to war with one another for control of the favela in which we work (Morro dos Macacos). The situation escalated when a police helicopter was shot down, resulting in two police casualties. For the rest of the day, the people of Rio were glued to their televisions, watching in dismay as gang members commandeered eight public buses and set fire to them. By day’s end, the death toll was at 22.

Jefferson, one of our students from the favela, spent most of that morning locked in his house with his mom and two sisters. I use the term house very loosely in his case. It is actually more of a basement – the basement of his grandmother’s three room, bare cinder block house. His mom moved into it following her divorce from Jefferson’s father. She is a remarkable lady marked by a sincere love for both the Lord and her kids. Jefferson bears a lot of resemblance to her in this – at least the love for the Lord part. He became a Christian a few years ago through the work of a local Christian leader in the community. At 14, Jason comments that he is surprisingly mature, characterized by a unique awareness of sin and a proper remorse for it. In our Friday afternoon soccer classes, he has emerged as a key leader – stoic yet influential.

Much like most residents of Morro do Macaco, Jefferson has experienced fallout from October 17th. Days after the incident, police invaded his home looking for gang members. They questioned him about his family, asked him if he was hiding anyone and interrogated him about his personal life. He claims that if his neighbor and cousin had not been there, the police would have hit him in an effort to scare information out of him. The sad thing about this episode is the fear that it engenders. Right now, it seems contagious in the Morro, and those that are not involved seem most impacted by it. We ask for your prayers for Jefferson, our other kids and the Morro. We are hopeful in One whose perfect love drives out such fears.

Picked Last (Jason)

2009-10-16T12:31:00.008-04:00

In third grade, Nick was always the one to pick teams for kickball. He was the best. No one ever got him out. He had the ability to turn himself into a “U” to avoid a screaming, red, rubber ball as he rounded first headed for home. Had Nick not been captain, he would have been picked first. I, a very late bloomer, was always picked last. I hated the process for picking teams for kickball. Not being a good student either, it was just another arena in which to suffer. Many years later, after high school, I came into my own athletically. I excelled at certain sports and this slowly became my identity. In my mind, I was Jason, the athlete. So, when a group of kids threatened this image I became terribly insecure.

Tuesday afternoon soccer class had low attendance. So, with only a few kids, I played (which I do not usually do) so that we could have sufficient numbers. We divided teams. After teams are divided comes the process of picking a goalie. As is customary, we number ourselves and have someone neutral pick a number at random. There is no one neutral besides Jeremy. So, we number ourselves (Jason-1, Elbom-2, Cascao-3, Andre-4). Jeremy picks …3. Phew! I dodged that bullet, I think. I don’t have to be goalie. However, before I can even relish in the though of not having to play the whole game in the goal, the other three guys on my team point to me and yell “three”.

It was not that I did not want to be goalie so much as the way that the boys went about “telling” me they wanted me to be goalie. My feelings were really hurt. My ego was threatened. I wanted to lash out. I wanted to punch Cascao, number 3. I wanted to quite working with undeserving wretches and pack up to come home.

I recognize that this is all incredibly juvenile. I should inform the reader that I am not going to quit. I no longer want to hit Cascao. In fact I believe that I have grown in several ways through this experience. First, I hope that God will heal me from my ego. Also, I realize that my savior was mistreated in ways that Mel Gibson and I will never understand. Had he not suffered I would have given up a long time ago. His suffering gives me endurance. Finally, I know that God loves these kids more than I do and it is my hope that God will love these kids through me. Please pray with us that God would use us to be a conduit of God’s love and grace to these kids.

Ailton's Story (Jeremy)

2009-10-02T10:15:00.005-04:00

Sometimes I think about the movie Teen Wolf. I think about Scott - his affable nature and aptitude to lead and how all of this goes unrecognized by his peers, except, of course, for Boof. Then, everything changes when he transforms into a werewolf that plays basketball. Suddenly, he’s popular - setting dance trends and surfing on top of a van. I’d like to believe that’s real. I’d like to believe that a gymnasium full of high school students could first embrace a werewolf as one of their own and later celebrate him when he chooses to shed his fur in the championship game. I’d like to think that man possesses some innate goodness that we find in these films. But, stories like Ailton’s challenge any notion of that.

Ailton began doing Bible studies and soccer class with us at the beginning of the year. From the outset, we perceived that he is somewhat of a social pariah – even though I cannot tell you why. He’s a good-looking, 17 year-old guy with average intelligence and a genuine likeability. He’s not obnoxious or aggressive – just shy. And yet, everyone seems to revel in picking on him. Younger kids call him names; the older ones try to start fights with him. Jason and I discipline such behavior, but it seems to extend well beyond our class. I’ve tried to connect the dots with some character flaw or socially awkward trait. It’s just not there. The story takes an even sadder turn when you learn that his father was a security guard that was killed in Ailton’s infancy when he attempted to prevent a robbery. I’ve given up waiting for the formulaic 80’s movie clap from his peers that seems to right all wrongs.

Instead, I’m banking on God’s ability to reveal His goodness through broken people and committed discipleship. This is where Ailton’s story takes a turn for good. Jason has started meeting with Ailton individually. They discuss his life, his plans and his relationship with Jesus. Ailton is a believer and learning what it means to be one at the same time. We set up a work/study program in which he is apprenticing a local construction worker in the favella. This translates into a much needed sense of purpose and responsibility. Sure, this is no John Hughes picture. But, there is potential here for much more than that.

Recycled (Jason)

2009-09-18T11:41:00.009-04:00

Pierced, half sunken in stagnant rainwater, and covered in green algae is where Jeremy and I found our soccer ball one afternoon as we were leaving Morro dos Macacos (Monkey Hill). It's disappearance was our fault really. We loaned it to David and Darciso, who we know well and trust, while we conducted soccer practice one Tuesday, weeks before. The problem was that we failed to appoint one of them responsible for the ball. When we broke for water, David and Darciso left the ball where it lay, helpless. Of course, it disappeared. I never thought that we would see that ball again, but it's funny how things have a way of resurfacing.

The favela is like the sea. An object that sits too long on the shore will evenutally be grabbed by the thieving fingers of the waves. Once this happens, the object is consumed and digested by the relentless pounding. When the sea is finished with that object, she spits it out. That's what happened to our soccer ball. While David and Darciso were distracted, the ball was taken by thieving hands and subsequently consumed and digested by the monster that is the Morro (or "hill", as the favela is so affectionately called). Once the Morro had finished with our ball, it resurfaced.

The kids that we work with are not immune to this process. Any kid who lives in the Morro long enough knows the consequences. We have seen to often kids who disappear from our Bible study or soccer practice for weeks, months or years only to resurface, now mangled by the effects of sin. Some resurface after being sexually abused by mom's new boyfriend. Others resurface with a kid and still others with an addiction. Still, some don't make it out alive. The mortality rate among young men who live in the favelas is equal to war zones due to drug trafficking.

Despite all that we are up against, we have a hope that is stronger than the thieving forces that suck kids into lives of sin and we have a hope that can renew even those who have been digested. This is why we continue our efforts in the Morro. We hope that by the power of the gospel we may rescue some before they are overtaken and chewed up by the powers of sin and, that by this same power, we may bring healing to those that have. Join with us as we pray against the forces that confront our kids.

Me Chamo Adilio (Adilio Hilario)

2009-09-02T19:42:00.008-04:00

My name is Adílio. I am 21 years old and am from the Northeast of Brazil where the poorest of Brazil’s population live. My city has less than 7,000 habitants and is deprived of the financial resources that could increase the standard of living of the population.

I became a Christian four years ago after I was in a tragic accident. I discovered that God must be sovereign in my life. However, I knew the decision to follow would be very difficult. My family is tied to Catholicism and I have a poor relationship with my father. All the same, I resolved to follow God in the midst of all the difficulties. After 3 years of being a Christian, I felt called to study at the Bethel Theological Seminary in Rio de Janeiro. This became a torment for my family. Aside from the fact that my parents are hostile to my decision to convert to evangelicalism and to my decision to study in an evangelical seminary, my parents believe Rio to be too violent. Another challenge that I faced was the decision to leave my home to live at the Sombra Road House with Jeremy, whom I had never met. However, God was guiding me.

Today I am in Rio de Janeiro doing a course on missions. It is my hope that I may serve as a missionary after graduation.

I have flourished here in Rio mainly due to someone who has brought a great Christian influence and new perspectives to my life. Without a doubt, he has been a conduit of the blessing of God in my life. He has assumed the role of a leader in my life...his name is Jeremy and he is a part of Sombra Road.

*Adilio has been living with Jeremy and Claudinho at the Sombra Road House since earlier this year.

Lost in Translation (Jeremy)

2009-08-21T10:31:00.009-04:00

There is a game that our kids like to play called bafo (translation breath). Each player throws in these special superhero cards, which are gathered into a deck and placed face down. Then, the kids take turns slapping the deck in order to flip over as many cards possible. The cards that are flipped become his. Among kids in the favela, a large stack of cards is somewhat of a status symbol. As I was climbing the hill the other morning, I passed Ueverson, a twelve year old student from our Friday afternoon soccer class, walking with a friend to school. I noticed the 20 or so cards that he carried in his hand - a respectable amount.

“Looks like you’re good at that game,” said I, pointing down to his stack of cards.

He looked back at me with the wrinkled eyebrow of confusion that I have seen all too often here in Brazil. I should have cut my losses in this conversation and moved quickly to goodbye. Instead, I pursued.

“You know who else is good at that game?” I asked, remembering the kid from his class that needed two hands to carry his spoils.

“Jesus?” he timidly replied.

“I was thinking Carlos Eduardo, but I guess that works too. Well, I’ll talk to you later on this afternoon.” I consoled myself with the thought that at least he was getting something from our class.

In all seriousness, Ueverson is an impressive kid. Besides a knack for scoring goals on Jason, he is marked by a sincerity that is rare among our group. He tells it how he sees it. That is why when he got baptized two weeks ago, I was really touched. He made a commitment based on understanding, not merely out of compulsion or emotion. God has saved him, and I ask that you would come alongside of us in praying for the first steps of His relationship with God.

Later that Friday afternoon, I did revisit the conversation that we had had regarding the cards. I tried to clarify my question from that morning.

“Ohh,” he responded with a look of enlightenment. “I thought you were asking me who was the best soccer player.”

“And you answered Jesus?!?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

Suddenly, I was the one giving the confused eyebrow look.

Claudinho's Graduation (Kristin)

2009-08-07T14:57:00.011-04:00

Today we are proud - proud and excited for Claudinho. We found out this month that he has graduated from high school. This is quite a feat given the path he took to arrive here.

Claudinho has lived in the Sombra Road House since 2007 but has been a part of our lives for much longer. Jeremy first met Claudinho at the orphanage, REAME, in 2004, when Claudinho was 13. At the time, he was in the third grade. The reason he was so far behind was because education was not a priority in his home. His mother died in childbirth when he was still very young. The responsibility of both providing for and raising Claudinho and his four brothers and sisters fell squarely on the shoulders of his father. His father, a poor farmer who took care of someone else's land, relied on his two sons' help in order to complete his day's work. When food on the table is not a given, education is perceived as a luxury. When he was removed from his father's home and placed at REAME on the day of his 10th birthday, he was well behind his peers. He had to start all over at the beginning. So, at 10 years old, he was placed in a kindergarten class with kids 4 or 5 years younger than him. He describes the situation with these simple words: "it was embarassing."

This milestone marks not only evidence of his perseverance but also opens up many doors of opportunity. We are excited to see where his next steps take him and we are thrilled to be able to continue to help counsel him on this journey. He will continue to live in the Sombra Road House. He is a part of our family. Please continue to pray for him as he makes decisions about his next steps.

Glimmer of Hope (Jason)

2009-07-22T11:48:00.013-04:00

I once heard an ex-mobster turned Christian claim the he broke down sobbing after shooting a man in the knee. He cried not from a sense of remorse but rather from amazement that he had not shoot the man in the chest. He said that at the moment that he shot the man he realized that God had done an amazing transformation in his life. "Six months before," he noted, “I would have killed that man.” Even though we do not work with murderers, we can appreciate this story given the profile of the kid with whom we we work.

Take, for example, Diego - the hard case from our Tuesday and Wednesday morning class (a classmate of Tangerina). Diego is a fantastic soccer player who has little else going for him. He grew up fatherless, for his father died due to his involvement in drug trafficking. In class, he plays the role of the tough, disinterested guy. But, Diego’s hard exterior is a compensation for his low self-esteem. He, like a cactus, does a good job of keeping people at a distance. His method of self-defense is to tear others down in order to bring himself up. He mocks the way we speak Portuguese. He hacks one kid because he struggles as a goalie. He rails another for having the appearance of a goat. Due to his behavior, we considered yanking him from the group. However, after prayer and much debate, we decided to press on due to a small glimmer of progress. We see traces of submission, moments of understanding. The hard exterior is starting to crack. We believe that God is at work in his life, moving him toward the gospel.

As for our role in his life, we try to be like Epaphroditus (see Phillipians) - messengers delivering a precious gift. Join with us as we hope and pray for Diego, knowing that it is only the love of Christ that might bring down the walls that Diego sets up.

Who is in charge? (Jeremy)

2009-07-02T20:53:00.007-04:00

Tuesday Morning, A Soccer Field at the base of Morro dos Macacos - The ball caroms off the post into the frayed net. "Gol!" A solitary shout of triumph muffled by the shirt that he has pulled over his head. He totters across the field with his bone-thin arms perpendicular to his exposed torso - he's doing the airplane. The others are not celebrating, but they are laughing. This is what they have come to expect from Tangerina - the class clown who doubles as their leader.

Tangerina (portuguese for tangerine) is merely his nickname - the aftermath of a bad hair coloring experiment. His real name is Carlos. Besides his quick-wittedness and intellect, he possesses a compelling charm that makes you want to pull for him. At sixteen, Carlos is also quite intuitive. He can read you almost as quickly as you can him. Sadly, however, much of the self-assured posturing that we see from him on the field is merely an act. Underneath this façade, there's an approval-driven teenager who is terrified by the question, "Who are you?" And identity is not the only issue in question for him. Authority is also quite confusing. He has been raised in an environment that rebels for the simple reason that "you're not in control of me; you're not my dad." But when you, like Tangerina, grow up without a dad (as seems to be a given for the kids with whom we work), to whom do you feel accountable? Who is in charge?

With Carlos, our preeminent desire is that he would see God as a loving Father to whom submission would be a pleasure. Our Tuesday morning soccer class is just an expression of that. With our words and encouragement, we try to get him to see Jesus as both the means and the motive for this submission. With our discipline, we try to walk him toward the truth that freedom is secured, not threatened, by authority. With our prayers, we plead with God to confront and comfort Carlos' heart with the truth of His sovereignty and love. I think back on that day at the soccer field and consider how, one day, it could be different. I envision a Carlos that is so confident of Jesus' identity that he doesn't need others to help him with his own. It is this hope that helps me forget how absurd it is for two past their prime American guys to think that they can teach Brazilian teenagers soccer.

Our Need for Him (Courtney Preston)

2009-06-23T19:37:00.013-04:00

When I heard that my church, Intown Community, was planning a summer mission trip to Sombra Road, I jumped at the chance to go. I've been teaching in Atlanta Public Schools for seven years and was feeling stuck in a rut, like I've been an ostrich with my head stuck in the hole of public education. I am passionate about social justice, particularly within the realm of education, so I wanted to visit Rio and see how the Lord is at work in a different part of the world, to have a renewed sense of the Lord causing His kingdom to come. The trip was only scheduled for a week: while I hoped it would, I didn't expect that I or our team could really have much impact on Sombra Road's ministry or the lives of the kids Jason, Kristin, and Jeremy have developed relationships with. Mostly, I viewed it as a trip for me.

The trip, of course, was nothing like my expectations. The focus of our devotionals for the week was social justice. We talked about how social justice apart from the gospel is ultimately empty, learned about the principles that guide Sombra Road's ministry, and discussed how Jesus impacts the "victim mentality."

Psalm 97 says that justice and righteousness are the foundations of the Lord's throne. I hate poverty, but through this trip, I really came to see that ending poverty is not the solution to anyone's problem and it is not the Lord's intention as He brings his kingdom in. Showing his children their need for Him, showing them that only in Him will they find true delight are His intentions. Just as the trip was nothing like my expectations, I learned that Christ's kingdom is nothing like my expectations, but a kingdom of goodness, beauty, truth, and delight in the Lord. While it certainly can, usually, His Kingdom does not move forward by leaps and bounds, but by the daily workings of His children in the seemingly small things of their lives, doing justice and loving mercy. That is what Jeremy, Jason, and Kristin are doing in Morro dos Macacos. I believe that God hates poverty too, and I know that one day He will set all things right. Until then, Sombra Road is pushing the kingdom forward, not to end poverty in the lives of the children at CEACA, but to show them the depth of their need for him and His grace that is sufficient for their weakness.

Since returning to the States, a few people have asked me what the kids were like. I haven't known quite how to respond. They're kids. They're just like the kids whom I have taught for the last seven years. They love to laugh, play soccer, fly kites, paint their fingernails, and they want to be loved. Yet, they live in a favela, grow up in fear, may be the victims of abuse, and from a societal perspective, have little hope. And just like my students in Atlanta, they are created in the image of a loving Father and their greatest need is grace.

As we debriefed from the week Friday morning, Kristin shared something that I've continued to think about. Here came seven Americans, speaking little Portuguese, into the lives of these kids for a week. Yes, we built relationships with them, shared the gospel with them, played a lot of soccer (and lost to them in ultimate!), but more importantly, we furthered Jeremy, Jason, and Kristin's relationships with them. Our unfamiliarity and lack of language skills pushed the kids towards them. With our presence, suddenly they were the kids' old friends, their safe place. In these three, they have friends, a safe place, and people who love them and whose great desire is to show them that their greatest delight is in Christ.

Heaven or the New Earth (Jason)

2009-05-11T13:33:00.004-04:00

I asked the kids in our bible study their thoughts on heaven expecting Romper Room answers like, “Heaven is like a soccer game that never ends” or “I want wings and an endless supply of candy” or “The streets will be made of gold, right?” I wanted them to fill in the blanks so that I could make my point and move on with the study. However, I was hardly able to continue when Amanda responded “rest”. She responded with emotion, as a soldier pining for rest from battle. She did not strike me as the type to read Hebrews Chapters 3-4 and come away with this theological jewel on her own. “Who told you that one of the benefits of heaven will be rest?” “No one”, she responds. So, this begs the question “Is the restful nature of heaven intuitive?” I think that the answer is yes. I don’t need special revelation to tell me that God is good. His goodness is all around me. Nor does Amanda need special revelation to tell her that one of the effects of the fall is difficulty and stress. She represents one of many kids that we work with from Morro dos Macacos (Monkey Hill), one of the more dangerous favelas in Rio. Amanda is surrounded by drug use, broken families, prostitution and the like. I, like Amanda, look forward to the promise of rest. There is a real resonation in my soul when I think on this idea of entering God’s rest which is spoken of in Hebrews.

Amanda is a forgotten kid in this country. Society looks at her and others like her and concludes that she is not worth the effort, that she will never amount to anything. We are here because we know that this is not how Jesus sees her. He sees his child whom he has great plans for; plans which, one day, include rest.

Spring Break 2009 (Lee Behr)

2009-04-10T15:44:00.005-04:00

Lee, Anna, a teacher, Brynna, Kara, Rachel and the kids from the community (and Jacob)

Lee was one of the students that participated in the SR Mission Trip in March. Below are her words describing the experience.

It was Spring Break 2009 and six of my classmates, my math teacher (and FCA sponsor) and her husband made a trip to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Our hope was to make a difference in the lives of kids living in an orphanage. Our goal was to form a relationship with them in the short time we were there, just one week. We also hoped to open their eyes, ears and hearts to life’s possibilities through a shared faith. At least, we wanted to love each kid, knowing that God’s love shines through us to others. This was the first time I had been on a mission trip. I was nervous about going, not knowing what to expect. Plus, is this how I really wanted to spend my Spring Break? Looking back on the experience, I can’t imagine having spent the week any other way. When I was with the kids at Reame, I saw God at work. I could see it in their eyes and feel it through their love and receptiveness of an American stranger. It was an eye-opener in many ways and it was difficult to imagine what some of these kids had been thorough before coming to the orphanage. Many of their stories were heartbreaking and tragic, and yet the strength and happiness I witnessed among these kids was really inspirational. I returned feeling less self-centered and more willing to share love unconditionally. It strengthened my personal relationship with God and allowed me an opportunity to meet people in their own environment and on their own terms concerning faith. Although none of us spoke Portuguese, except for a few words and phrases, communication wasn’t really a problem. We played games and soccer, tie-dyed t-shirts, sang and did skits. It was truly a life changing experience for me. The chance to return can’t come soon enough.

Time Warp (Russ and Kara)

2009-04-01T20:11:00.004-04:00

Kara and I again recently had the pleasure of spending a week with Jeremy, Jason, and Kristin. This time was a bit different in that we brought with us seven of Kara's students from Woodward Academy. The trip was a big success in a number of ways- we learned several lessons about how best to bring teams in to fully experience Rio and Sombra Road, the students' were pushed to consider things beyond the bubble in which they typically live, and we all had a really great time enjoying all that Rio has to offer. One of the most exciting things about the trip for me, though, was the opportunity to catch a glimpse of what Sombra Road is all about in a one-week "time warp." When we arrived at the Sombra Road House, we were introduced to the newest addition to the SR House, Adilio, who had just moved to Rio and was now living at the SR House. As you can imagine, he was a bit intimidated by our group and was very hesitant to engage. He spoke almost no English, and our group spoke very limited Portuguese, so any conversation that first day was very limited. According to Jeremy, he was extremely uncomfortable and really questioned how much he wanted to be around our group that week. What we witnessed over the following days, in my mind, sums up what Jeremy, Jason, and Kristin are in Brazil to do. As the walls between us began to come down, we were able to see this young man bloom from being fairly quiet, removed, and hesitant to laughing, joking, and engaged in a way that none of us would have imagined after that first day. I feel really fortunate to have seen in a very tangible way what Jeremy, Jason, and Kristin are accomplishing in the lives of so many Brazilian youth- showing them with their lives how much they are loved by God and witnessing the transformation that occurs when young people grab a hold of that. I came away more excited than ever about the impact that Sombra Road continues to have in Rio.

Copernican Revolution (Jeremy)

2008-11-27T08:46:00.008-05:00

Under a whirring fan in a near windowless church, thirteen teenagers and I sit in a circle and consider a world with someOne other than self at its axis. I reference the earth's orbit around the sun, attempting to draw some parallel to Jesus as the glorious center and His influence upon the trajectory of our lives. I'm thinking, "this will bring it home for them." But, the analogy lands with a thud.

-"Are you saying that we're moving?"

-"I don't feel like I'm moving."

One guy is shifting his weight from one foot to the other - apparently to make sure the ground beneath is still solid.

-"Well then, where does night come from?"

And so the analogy consumes that which it attempts to explain, and I find myself in the middle of a Physics lesson. We discuss their questions, transition rather ungracefully back to the original point and close in prayer. I'm laughing at myself and thinking, "we could use some more windows in this church."

Urban Farming (Jeremy)

2008-11-04T08:47:00.005-05:00

I don’t know why I buy potatoes. Maybe it’s because of the number of people that the potato pile in the grocery store seems to attract - “I’ve got to get in on that.” Maybe it’s barbaric optimism - “If we have potatoes, we will cook them.” Whatever the reason, most potatoes in our home do not find their way to our plates. Instead, they linger and, eventually, blossom. One afternoon, Claudinho, inspired by the sudden vitality of these fruit stand fixtures, decided to plant one in a pot on our veranda – a new spin on “if life gives you a lemon…” He gathered the soil from the pots of other dead plants (sorry, Camilla) in the largest pot available along with the budding potato. Through faithful watering and care, the potato became a plant in its own sort of way. From that day on, black beans, carrots and other vegetables began disappearing from our pantry shelves, cups came up missing, and the veranda sprang to life in a “Rudolf misfit toys” kind of way. But for all its variety, this garden was rather plain. First off, these growths all looked more like vines than plants. They also were very quick to sprout and quick to die if placed in the sunlight. Finally, none of them produced anything. I think Claudinho wanted to stockpile food in case things went Y2k on us. But when he realized that there was nothing much to these plants, he stopped watering them. They were a novelty that had had their day; now, nothing more than wilted nostalgia.

Visit to Rio (Russ and Kara)

2008-10-10T09:53:00.010-04:00

Kara and I spent a "week in the life" with Jeremy, Jason, Kristin, and baby Jacob recently. We had an incredible time enjoying the beauty of Brasil- from the views from Corcovado and Sugarloaf to the beaches of Ipanema, Leblon, and Barra. But the greatest beauty in Brasil is without a doubt its people. Whether it be playing soccer with students from the nearby communities, sweeping floors and cleaning out trashcans at a local widows home, or walking the streets of Rio, you can see in these people a zeal for life that you just don't see in the States. Looking through the warped lens of our lives in the US, your initial impression is to see a people who have so little, but after just a short time around them you begin to understand that we are the ones who are deprived. In Brasil you find true community, people connected to each other and committed to each other. You find joy in the most unlikely places and generosity unheard of in our "me first" culture. It occurs to me that it makes sense that our hosts have become so ingrained in this culture. Their daily decision to die to themselves and live their lives in service to the people of this city is challenging to us- and inspiring. It causes us to look outside of ourselves and consider what our community could be like if that attitude were prevalent here. Thank you Jeremy, Jason, Kristin, and Jacob for opening up your homes and opening up our eyes.

Off Road (Jeremy)

2008-08-26T13:53:00.006-04:00

It’s 7:30 on a Saturday evening, and I’m driving 12 kids home after a visit to the mall. We’re heading down a narrow dirt road, bordered by trees to the left and a drainage ditch to the right. We drop two kids off at their aunt’s house and are looking to head back. I try a three point turnaround, but only make it to point number two. The VW van is a lot longer than my VW Gol, and I’ve backed us into the drainage ditch. The front two tires are about two feet in the air. Some of the kids scream in panic; others in delight. We get the kids out safely, and the neighbors begin to congregate around the van. I don’t even try to explain. There are certain acts of stupidity where you lose your right to excuses. But instead of just standing around and taking cheap shots at the gringo, the locals got right to work. The men started pushing on the back of the van, while the women put rocks under the rear tires to generate traction. Two guys put on their knee-high rubber boots so that they could get down into the ditch and push more effectively. They refused to let me do the same, concerned that I would get my clothes dirty. Meanwhile, more people are streaming in from the community to help, as some of the older women have got the story in circulation. Six strategies and thirty minutes later, the van surges from the ditch, amidst a shower of rocks, mud and applause. Embraces are exchanged, and I’m invited to visit more often - under different circumstances. The crowd still lingers in my rear view mirror as I consider what it is like to live among people who need each other.

Passion (Jeremy)

2008-06-10T15:40:00.007-04:00

Due to the generosity of several of you, we were able to attend the Passion Conference in São Paulo. It left a real impression on Paulo and Claudinho, who had the chance to worship with some of their favorite musicians and hear the gospel recontextualized. The event seemed to give these guys a new concept of God-centered youth. Here are some pictures from the conference. The Crowder one isn't ours. Once again, thanks to all of you who made it possible.

Widows and Orphans (Jeremy)

2008-05-17T15:36:00.005-04:00

Every other Saturday morning, Claudinho, Felipe (a potential house candidate) and I volunteer at a home for widows. We spend our time sweeping, washing windows, sanding furniture, etc. But, the intrigue of these mornings lies in the fusion of our world with theirs. With the older women, life is unhurried and calculated. One lady took a swipe at another with her cane the other day, but the blow was so sluggish that we didn't even notice. Someone actually had to explain to us that they were fighting. Life for the guys, on the other hand, is all potential and passion at terminal velocity. In these Saturday mornings of overlap, the two groups appear to thrive off of one another. The women jump into the playfulness of the guys, a few of them even dropping some one liners. The guys, in turn, submit to the silence and weight of significance that seems to pervade the house. The one becomes the lens for the other. But, these ladies need to give up on trying to get these guys to sing hymns.