Glimmer of Hope (Jason)

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)

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)

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)

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)

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)

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)

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."