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

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)

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

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

Hope for the Hopeless (Jason)

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

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

The Thief (Kristin)

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)

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)

“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)

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.