Where to begin? As you may have heard, we spent a long
weekend in Guidoval to provide aid and support to those stricken by devastating
floods earlier this year. Many of the
families who put us up had lost nearly all their clothes and furniture, and
there were 2 mortalities within the small close-knit community. The son of one of the families we stayed with
had become almost completely blind due to a harmful substance dripping into his
eyes when the torrential rain struck and swept everything away within less than
24 hours. To hear their stories of
perseverance and faith was incredibly moving and put everything into
perspective.
As we started to assemble our
working teams and get ready, we were asked to pray about how we could help, and
for the Lord to guide us. Some were
called to paint and rebuild, others to do visits in houses of those distanced
from the church, others to treat teeth and aches and pains, and still others to
plan evangelistic events for the city’s youth
When the answer came, my reaction was “please, God, no, ANYTHING but
that...” But alas, God will have his
way, and a week later, I found myself trembling and teary, entering a little
fancy dress shop in Viçosa, full to bursting with clown wigs, hats, and other
horrors. Where does this irrational fear
come from, you may ask, that has been so drastically confronted during your
time in Brazil? Well, recently I remembered that when I was 4 I was in a car
accident, and that mum had already bought us tickets to the circus for that
night. Because I had cried so much, desperate
to see the elephants and trapeze artists for the first time, mum agreed to take
me, despite the fact that she was still in severe shock. I guess that’s why I always associate clowns and
their false garish smiles, with trauma.
As I donned red nose, a multi-coloured wig and white make-up in the
run-down bathroom of one of Guidoval’s public schools, I caught a glimpse in
the mirror and paled even whiter. Nervously,
I stepped out to join veteran fellow clowns Vigor and Fu and pose for photos. But
something clicked when I saw the children pointing and laughing despite all
that had happened, when I managed to dance and make a fool of myself – it was
so incredibly liberating, and I even ended up laughing my own cares away. In that moment I fully comprehended what it
meant to be a missionary – to say no to the self, and hello to God, and I
tearfully thanked the Lord for using me in ways I never could have imagined.
We certainly made a lasting
impact in Guidoval. Within an hour, the
empty, run-down Baptist church was full of CEM missionaries, old and young,
singing, dancing the conga up and down the aisle, and passing a sock around to
the church members for them to put their prayer requests in the “e-meia” (“meia”
is Portuguese for “sock”). We laughed so
much in those few days that we certainly showed what it means to be full of the
joy of the Lord! And that’s what
Integral Mission means after all.
Telling the message of the gospel, and when necessary, using words.
The
following weekend I found myself on a much-needed weekend retreat with my
mentoring group, but what a trek! We
went aaall the way to our pastor’s house, less than 5 minutes’ walk from CEM! There we spent a lot of time reflecting on
life in general, praying for each other, and learning about what it truly means
to love one another and love others. We did a great exercise in which we were
blindfolded and had to pretend to be sheep (hooraah!), and try to discern the
voice of Brenda sending coded commands with a whistle, trying to guide us to a
marked out sheep pen, whilst Renata kept making noises in our ears to distract
us, representing the Enemy and the voices of the world. Excellent stuff. Among other things we also watched the 3rd
Narnia Film, which is full of Christian truths and well worth a watch if you
haven’t already seen it. Also,
importantly, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so many pancakes in my life.
The following weekend I was off to São Paulo (double hooraaaah!), where
among other things I had the challenging joy of helping out on two occasions at
the children´s shelter where Paulo works.
The majority of the children are either orphans, have parents living on
São Paulo’s streets, or come from a tragic background of drug addiction and/or
sexual abuse. Although the home is
technically a Spiritist organisation, many of the children are curious to hear
about the message of the Cross. There
are 17 children, ranging in age from 3 months to 17 years. The younger ones are adorable, even if they
are extremely needy and attention-seeking, and have some problems controlling
their bladders and bowels! The older
ones are the real problems, being truly bitter against the world, and on a
mission to make others feel the rejection and suffering they’ve been
through. To love them and have patience
with him is a true act of grace, and a true test of faith.
On one particular day, I knew
that it was the birthday of one of the younger girls, so I took some materials
do art and craft activities with them, as sadly none of the members of staff
have time to dedicate to these things. I
was sat on a bench with most of the children at my feet scribbling away and
happily making as much mess as possible.
I had an adorable 18 month year-old girl on my lap, and as I was giving
my attention to the others, I hadn’t even noticed she had a huge felt tip in
her hand. It was only when I handed her back for nap time that I realised my
jeans weren’t blue anymore...
As I headed
to the bathroom to wash out the worst of the ink, I saw a blur of pink in the
bathroom sink and a rush of long hair, as the teenage girls literally pounced
on me with pink crepe paper and dyed my fringe before I could so much as blink
or muster up the Portuguese to protest. “Don’t
worry, tia, it will wash out straight
away, it’s only temporary.” Hahaha. 2 weeks and 10 hair washes later, my hair is
still a nice shade of magenta. Thanks
girls. Later that day, a nasty smell
confirmed my worst fears that little Markus wasn’t ready to be out of nappies
even at nearly 4 years old.
“Markus, did you do something...?”
“No, tía, no.”
“Did you really?”
“No, I promise.”
“Shall we go to the bathroom to check?”
“We don’t need to, tía.”
Reluctantly, we trooped to the bathroom, and 10 seconds
later I wish I had heeded Markus´ subtle warnings. Eeeeeew.
The greatest challenge came on my last day in São Paulo,
when the teenage girls decided to push me to my limit and rage a war against
me. They spent the large part of the
afternoon swearing at me and ordering me to leave the room. Even reacting with as much love and patience
as I could muster up, by home time I couldn’t hide my tears. I tried so hard to control myself, but felt
that I had to tell one particular girl how much she was wrong in her approach
of trying to push people away, and how much she had hurt me, that I really wasn’t
up for retaliating or getting into an argument with her. As I left in tears, praying furiously for
them, I was hugely surprised to find that I didn’t even make it to the corner
of the street before I heard a desperate “Tía, come back!” Not knowing what to expect, we retraced our
steps and were moved to find the two friends friend almost in tears, full of
remorse, apologising from the bottom of their hearts. Paulo says that was a first for both of
them. “You do promise you’ll come back
one day, don’t you tía?” Once again I
was reminded of how God works in small, but surprising ways. The two girls are still in desperate need of
our prayers, as I have since heard that one of them has run away from the home
and is being tracked down by the police.
Although they have such good hearts deep down, their psychological scars
are deep and they are extremely vulnerable to all kinds of dangers. I suppose it makes us think about how many of
our daily worries are really necessary in comparison!
Following
those adventures, my work at Rebusca and my lessons at CEM have seen like a
refreshing walk in the park, and the children seem like angels! Not sure how
long that will last! But in all
seriousness, my time at Rebusca is still a complete joy, and I am growing
hugely in my maturity and the mutual love and respect I have with the little
ones. I have almost managed to learn all
50 something names now and learn a little about their families and lives. Watching a special Mothers’ Day presentation
last week was particularly moving for me, especially as quite a few of them
didn’t have mothers who were able to come, and asked me to be their honorary
mother. I was so touched when I realised
that I already love them like a mother would.
I also observed how little attention the mothers seem to give their
children from an outside perspective, coming from difficult social and
financial situations, and I was encouraged to see just how important it is to
spend quality time with these precious little lives. The weekly arguments about who gets to sit
next to Tía Heather at lunchtime are becoming more agitated every week, and one
particular week, a boy with learning difficulties called Breno refused to eat his
lunch because I didn’t sit at his table.
The solution: put the tables
together and have everyone eat round the table like one big family. So far it’s
gone down incredibly well!
My English lessons have been a lot of fun recently, and I am
encouraged to see the progress my students who started from scratch with me
last year have made. Unfortunately one
of my best students and close friends has recently made the decision to give
up, which made me extremely sad. I tried
everything to convince her, but have learnt to expect that my goals and the
Lord’s are not the same, and that the decision was directed by prayer so I have
to accept it with humility and love, even if I don’t agree with it and find it
a terrible shame. I find that to say “my
ways are not Your ways” is one of the hardest things, but also essential to
obeying and being used fully by the one who made us.
Another challenge has been finding the enthusiasm and
perseverance necessary to go to the University every Friday to give my Bible
Study at our ABU group, only to be greeted by one or two regulars, who are
long-term members of my Church.
Unfortunately the group has not been fulfilling its evangelistic purpose
recently, due to the fears that the students have in speaking to their friends
in what is quite a closed, secularised environment, despite a large presence of
Christian activity in the city as a whole.
Please pray for them to have courage, and for our advertising efforts to
resurrect the group. At the same time, I
recognise that the time is still extremely valuable, that I am learning just as
much as the few that do go, and that it is a wonderful way of building each
other up. I know I am still being used,
even if not as I planned or expected!
In a nutshell, that is the main
message God has spoken to me this month – that I must trust and obey in all its
fullness. Even the smallest of my plans
can be thwarted by His biggest ones. For
example, when I think I will be planning my lessons and packing my suitcase, I
suddenly find myself in the hospital, nursing Brenda after emergency appendix
surgery (NB Brazilian Public Hospitals are DIRE. PTL that I haven’t needed one so far. Surgery without general anaesthetic, big scar
and a popped stitch speak for themselves.)
There is nothing harder, but also nothing better, than just to sit back
and accept “OK, Lord, you know better than I do!”