Baptism in Aningas!

This past Sunday night, Joab, Layane, Nadine, Natalia, Rita and Valda and Caroline asked to be baptized.

Yesterday, I picked up the girls in Aningas, and they were abuzz with excitement, saying they want to be baptized this Saturday.

They don’t want to wait to be baptized; they feel they are being disobedient to God, every day they wait.

Mark was concerned that the village know and be invited, so we thought that we’d spend Friday in the village, going door to door, inviting everyone to come and witness. Rick and Mark are going to see if the river in Aningas will do, if not there is a lake, right down the dirt road. Joab and the girls and Valda will write their testimonies so that they can be read. Eliel will come and give a word and Mark will baptize them.

We are going to make a huge pot of rice and another of feijoada and farofa, and we’ll get some soda to have a celebration, after the baptism.

I’m so excited I can hardly write. I’m so thankful Rick and Noreen are here to be with us, for Caroline’s sake, for the girls who feel such a huge connection with all of you at home, and because it feels like a little piece of home is here, to rejoice with us.

For every sentence I write, ten more are crowding in my mind. God is good and these precious lives are proof of His Goodness and Grace. Wish you were here.

 

The saying is sure and worthy of confidence: If we have died with Him, we shall also live with Him. (2 Timothy 2:11 AMP)

Following Him

Last Sunday night in Aningas, the little kids were out of control, like they had eaten sugar and caffeine all day and their parents let them out, just in time for our Sunday School lessons.

This Sunday we prayed more and prepared a few more activities for the littler kids. Fewer kids came out and Caroline and William were able to go through the lesson sheet and do the activities with them.

This freed Mark up to teach the teen and adult class on Baptism. They learned that they died to sin, the moment they accepted Christ, and were made new in Christ. Mark explained that baptism is the obedient step and the public testimony of what happened when they confessed Christ as their personal and only Savior.

They had some questions about different types of baptism, and about people that say you have to be baptized to be saved. Fortunately, Mark answered their questions and gave them the Scripture to back up his answers. God gave help and His Word fed and taught His precious lambs.

I’ve had this warm little glow inside me since Sunday night. Look at what God has done! Look at what He continues to do! He still saves souls and feeds and cares for them. These truths that we hold to our heart are real, and His lambs hear His voice and they follow Him.

 

 

We were buried therefore with Him by the baptism into death, so that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glorious [power] of the Father, so we too might [habitually] live and behave in newness of life. (Romans 6:4 AMP)

Treasure Hunting

We met Juarez on Saturday, while out with the Word. He said he wanted to go to the rehab. He lives in the ruins of this abandoned building:juarez (1 of 2)

So, Monday we went looking for him in this rubble. He was there. We took him to the rehab, and on the way, we listened to him tell us about his life.

He killed a police officer and spent time in jail. He has six children, but he doesn’t know where they are; he hasn’t seen them in years. He hadn’t eaten any food for many months; he can’t remember how many. He drinks and drugs and sells himself to continue his degradation and sin and shame.

He wants peace and he wants to be free of the voices in his head telling him to kill himself.

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Sometimes I’m in so far over my head that I’m sure my head’s gone under, and God is breathing for me. I feel so naïve, most of the time. But I’m starting to realize the blessing that naïveté suggests that I have enjoyed, and I’m so thankful. I have peace and I have that ultimate freedom, found in Jesus Christ alone.

Pray for Juarez at the rehab.

 

So if the Son liberates you [makes you free men], then you are really and unquestionably free. (John 8:36 AMP)

Jesus, The Great Physician

I wonder where I got the idea that I’d better not pray for God to heal, just in case it doesn’t happen?

The favelas cure me of that, along with the daily fail of the SUS (Brazil’s national health care).
I feel helpless, when we walk through a favela and face all kinds of needs that are beyond any human ability to change. And when we meet people that the health system here has abandoned, it’s the worst. So, we pray for them. We pray for JeSUS to step in, where SUS has failed. And He does. Why am I surprised?

God loves to answer prayer. The Spirit of God is waiting for me to act on my faith and put aside my sinful unbelief. The outcome is that glorious moment when you realize that The Lord Himself has heard your prayer and showed Himself to be faithful and true, for His Name’s sake.

This happened twice last week, as we wore our brand new t-shirts that say, “Jesus, the great Physician,” on the sleeve and have Psalm 147:3 on the back. It was amazing how happy I felt, in those moments, to wear that shirt and be on God’s team, proclaiming His power over everything and anything we could possibly encounter, and His longing to save souls.

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He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds [curing their pains and their sorrows]. (Psalm 147:3 AMP)

Sandra’s Story

Favela life is cruel; it’s made up of filth and violence, drugs and gangs, shootings and abuse of every kind. Sandra lost her husband to all of the above, a couple weeks ago.

Paulinho was a decent guy. Sandra says he didn’t use drugs. He worked very hard to support her and the five kids. When the 10 year old came home from school with crack in his backpack, Paulinho went to Alexandre, a local trafficker, and told him to leave his son alone. Alexandre replied, “I’ll get you for that.”

imageSo, on a Sunday night Alexandre and two other kids broke into their shack and fired 2 shots into Paulinho’s head. The three year old, Gustavo, tried to catch his dad, as he fell. Biel, the 10 year old, ran to help Gustavo. Alexandre fired again and hit Paulinho’s hand. The children were covered in blood.

Friday, we were there, in Monte Celeste, with sandwiches and juice, and the Word. When Sandra told us her story, we listened and hugged her and prayed with her. She questions God. She is both angry and lost. She has no means to provide for the five children.

We don’t have answers, but God does. Like so many other times here, we can only do the practical. We use our hands and our feet to show His love. So, yesterday Andrew and Stephanie, Mark and I brought her groceries and stayed a while. We can listen. We can hug those children. We can pray with them. Please pray with us for Sandra, left alone with five children: Biel, Clara Eliane, Raíssa, Valesca, and Gustavo.

Pray that Gustavo and Sandra will be able to sleep at night. Pray that Biel will stop feeling guilty that he caused his dad’s death. Pray that they will be safe, with Alexandre still living nearby. Pray that Sandra will be able to find work and move the children to another school.

Come and See

Stephanie and Andrew arrived yesterday, and all the reasons why I crave visitors came flooding back to my visitor-deprived self, like oxygen rushes into your system after you’ve been underwater a few seconds too long.
It’s not that the joy of God’s Work here doesn’t buoy us up. Or that your emails and comments don’t fill us with love and strengthen us. They do. It’s just that the day-to-day here keeps us hunkered down and closely focused on each moment. It’s like our life is a sample laid out on a glass slide, under a microscope, and we zoomed the focus in, almost on top of each moment.

When you come to visit, we stop, pull back from the “burn” range, and review all the things that God has done, and is doing. It gives us a fresh vision of how amazing God is. It makes us see a bigger Hand, a bigger Heart than ours. And it gives us the greatest joy to share it with you face to face, place by place.

I anticipate bringing you to all the places we visit by rote, and seeing it fresh through your eyes. I feel for you, because the sights are shocking and the anguish and despair that you will feel are overwhelming. But it’s this very depth of emotion that brings the Savior near. So near. And then His love takes over and you don’t even see the surroundings, you’re back in the “burn zone” of His service, where you’re being used, but He’s doing all the work. That’s where true joy fills you.

I love to show you and watch God slay you with His purpose and His plan. It’s so much more effective than my words. I can try so hard to express something in writing, and it may, or may not, come out right, but five seconds when God’s at work, and you are living and feeling everything I so wish I could put into words. Wish you were here.

Come and see what God has done: He is awesome in His deeds toward the children of man. (Psalm 66:5 ESV)

 

Let Freedom Ring and Reign!

Last year on the Fourth of July, we picked up Renato on the street corner and took him to the rehab. He was the biggest mess you ever saw, with an eye swollen shut and open sores on his face. Someone had smashed his face with a cement block, as he was sleeping on the sidewalk. He was wearing a pair of raggedy shorts. That’s all.

Renato had two surgeries, for broken bones in his face and eye. Slowly he cleaned up and cheered up. He professed to be saved. He asked if he could call us Mom and Dad, because he doesn’t remember his parents and he’s never had anyone just for him.

Two months ago, the doctor that visits and helps at the rehab, hired him to work in his family’s pet store. Renato leaves the rehab at 5:00 a.m. and bicycles to work, about 5 miles away. He gets back to the rehab at 7:00 p.m.

 

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Monday we stayed at the rehab till he got back from work. After hugs he asked us, “Do you know what this Thursday is?”

“Yes, filho, we know,” we said.

“It’s my one year anniversary! he said.

Renato is the reason why we are here. For one more soul like this, we pray every day. And go after them all like there is no such thing as failure.

I’m so thankful today for the absolute freedom found in Jesus Christ. Let freedom reign in our hearts and in our souls.

Here I Am

God whispered in my ear.Three times actually. No, I’m not hearing voices, but His Word kept coming to my mind, and the whole experience turned out to be the best heaven-hug I ever got.

It started yesterday morning on the street. Adriano came running as soon as he saw us and said that he really needed the rehab.

“Come tomorrow,” he said, “and Jefferson wants to go, too.”

So I said to God, “Lord, I was crying this week, and asking You where the victories were, and here You are, sending me two of my favorite kids to go to the rehab. I love You, Lord.”

He whispered, “Here I am.”

So, today we arrived to pick up the two boys, but three boys were there!

“Ah, Lord,” I said. “Beyond what I ask or think, right?”

He whispered, “Here I am.”

We got to the rehab and the boys got signed in and told about the rules. After that, Mark and I signed for each of them, accepting the responsibility for their care, health and needs during their stay. Then, we gave Goiás the money for food that we always give when we bring kids to the rehab.

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Goiás said to me and Mark, “Come here, I want to show you something.”
He took us to the kitchen and opened the freezers and the pantry and a food storage cabinet. They had been promised a food donation, but it didn’t arrive. So, they prayed. And we arrived.

We stood in that kitchen and bowed our heads and told God that we love it when He’s so near that our hearts feel like they’re bursting with the joy of it. We love when He proves His love to us and lets us know that we’re not alone.

I blew Him a kiss and He whispered in my ear again. You know what He said.

Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry, and He will say, “Here I am.”
And if you pour out that with which you sustain your own life for the hungry and satisfy the need of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in darkness, and your obscurity and gloom become like the noonday.
(Isaiah 58:9,10 AMP)

Without Strength

I hate crack. I hate what it does to lives. I hate the power it has to strip a soul of everything but the desperate, pathetic craving for more and more of its poison. I ache with the longing to annihilate every trace of it from every street and alley and favela. The smell of it makes me sick and the sight of a hand cupped around a match, head lowered to smoke it, makes my stomach drop right to my feet with despair.

Yesterday, Manoel wanted to go to the rehab. He said he would go, so we went to pick him up. He is sick, beyond thin, and weak. He has no money, no food, and he has sold everything but the shorts he was wearing.

Manoel is the brother of our sister in Christ, Inaçia. He was living on the street in Brasilia, and desperately needed help, so in December we bought him a bus ticket and brought him here. He lived with us through February, professed to be saved, and was doing great. He got a job at a hotel in the city, went to live in the city, and was working full time. But he says that crack has never stopped calling to him. He says that he is saved, but he is afraid that he won’t be able to resist this despicable drug. He sat in the office at the rehab and cried. I felt helpless and very tired and weak.

I know that the God I serve is greater than the enemy. But today I’m feeling the enormous burden of the fight. And I’m asking God why the victories are so few. I can’t stop thinking of Manoel crying at the rehab. I’m praying that he doesn’t leave. I’m praying that God takes over and gives Manoel His peace, His love and His victorious power over sin.

I don’t like feeling broken and helpless in this huge battle. But I am asking God to keep breaking my heart for His service. In this place of brokenness I am better aligned with His heart and better suited to His work. And in my helplessness He comes in and takes charge.

 

He gives power to the weak, And to those who have no might He increases strength. (Isaiah 40:29 NKJV)

St. John’s Festival

St. John’s festival, or Festa de São João, is celebrated with bonfires, corn on the cob, quadrilha, and costumes right out of the Beverly Hillbillies. It’s a primarily Catholic holiday here that officially falls on the 24th of June, but ends up being celebrated all month. I call it St. Elmo’s Fire because just about every house has a huge, smoke-producing bonfire in front of it, at night, all month long.This is the third year that Mark and I will be joining in the festivities in Aningas.

The first year that we started having get-togethers on Sunday nights in Aningas, we were approached by a few young people, who asked if we would come to the festa de São João. “Certainly!” we answered. “São João was very dear to The Lord Jesus; of course we will come! We’ll even bring Gospels of John, so people can read what São João says about Jesus.” And so we shocked the community of Aningas by setting up a barraca and staying until the last bus drove away.

We were shocked, too, by the huge, gorgeous buses that rolled down the dirt road into the tiny community of Aningas. Nine enormous buses pulled in one at a time, competed in the quadrilha, and left. The quadrilha is kind of like square dancing crossed with the Sicilian tarantella, set to polka music, which blares at 10,000 decibels and deafens us all.

But it’s the crowds of people I love. Mark fashions a kind of “tent” out of PVC pipe and canvas. I make cachorro quente, a hot dog/sloppy Joe mixture that the girls help us serve on hot dog rolls. Mark works the crowd, handing out Gospels of John and tracts. And the crowd goes wild! They love getting the scripture and they tell us that the cachorro quente is delicious, but the Word is the best! What could be better than this?

So, tomorrow night, pray for us, giving out the best news about the heart of God, smack dab in the heart of this much-loved community.

The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him, and said, “Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!  (John 1:29 NKJV)