Street Work – Page 5

Feeding the Hungry

February 19, 2011 By StephanieT Leave a Comment

Beads of condensation roll off the plastic cling wrap as it’s peeled away from the white Styrofoam trays. Stacked high with 10 kg of mozzarella and 21 kg of mortadella, the four trays are ready to be sliced. This makes about 750 sandwiches, so some of it is refrigerated for the next day. With a firm hand, Inacia halves the mortadella rounds and quarters the mozzarella rectangles. She separates the pieces of meat and cheese into two silver bowls. Here the assembly line begins.

Inacia sets the two bowls at the head of the wooden picnic table on the back patio. Lori and Mark sit across from one another, each with a red plastic tray in front of them. Reaching for the bowls, they take one piece of mortadella and a slice of mozzarella to match. They pair them, cheese on top of meat, forming neat rows on the tray.

The girls sit next in line at the table, each with a giant green Tupperware bin to one side. They are filled with 500 fresh rolls sliced earlier that morning. Caroline grabs a roll in her left hand, and in her right, a pair of meat and cheese from off the red tray. She stuffs the roll and slides the sandwich down the table. Across from her, Katie does the same. When the sandwiches start to accumulate, I stack them into rows at the head of the table and begin to form a pyramid. We work efficiently, enjoying the morning breeze and the heat of the warm sun on our faces, while singing along to the music playing from Caroline’s iPod.

When Katie and Caroline have gone through half the rolls in their buckets, we combine what remains into a single Tupperware. I dismantle the pyramid on the table, taking sandwiches by twos and threes to form tight rows in the empty bin. At the base, only ten sandwiches fit across. As the bin widens, twelve or thirteen can fit without flattening them beyond recognition. The green bin holds six levels with four rows in each. Each level has extra space on one side for an additional nine sandwiches packed perpendicular to the four rows. Approximately 300 sandwiches fit into each green bin.

Once the bin has been completely loaded, we put the lid on, securing it with a bungee. While I package the last bin with the sandwiches, the others begin cleaning up. Mark and Lori bring the silver bowls and red trays to the kitchen while Katie sweeps the patio free of breadcrumbs and chunks of fallen mortadella. Caroline degreases the table, scrubbing vigorously with a yellow dishcloth.

We load the sandwich bins into the truck and fit the pickup bed with the juice apparatus. Each of three 20-liter water jugs is filled with 20 packets of powdered Tang mixed with fresh water. We’ll stop to buy ice at Pedro’s corner store on the way out to make sure the juice is cool and refreshing. Before leaving, we bow our heads by the truck and thank the Lord for the opportunity he has given us to prepare these simple sandwiches. We ask that He will bless the day and that the people will accept the food to fill their stomachs and more importantly, the Savior to fill their souls.

At each of the stops the people come running, their faces lighting up when they see the truck. Adults and children stand waiting for the food to fill their empty stomachs. At the back of the truck, Katie and Lori keep busy passing out juice and refilling the carafes. They hand out paperback booklets of the gospel of John to the older kids and adults. One young man tucks it into the back pocket of his shorts as he holds out his plastic cup for more juice. This will satisfy his thirst temporarily, but we pray he will reach for the word to quench the real thirst in his soul.

Caroline wraps two sandwiches in a gospel tract and places them into Isaque’s outstretched hand. His fingernails are caked with dirt and his feet infested with bichos de pé. But more than these physical ailments, in his eyes is an emptiness that only the Savior can fill. The gospel tract, titled Perdão Completo (Complete Pardon) will tell him of the Savior who loves him. It will tell him the Lord will never leave or forsake him and a peace he can have in Christ. The Lord Jesus gave his life on the cross to pay for his sins. He can be free from his life of guilt and misery if only he will accept God’s gift of salvation. We watch as he walks away and sits on the curb to eat his sandwiches. As he begins to read the tract, we silently pray that the truth will set him free.

Filed Under: Street Work Tagged With: food, gospel, hungry, Street Kids

Clessio

February 19, 2011 By KaitlynB Leave a Comment

Clessio, one of the young men Mark and Lori brought to the Nova Aliança rehab center, is a testimony to the awesome power of God’s saving grace. Back in June when we first met him, he showed us around the rehab center and told us some of his story. He was addicted to crack when Mark and Lori met him on the streets. They paid the 400 reais to bring him there and continued to sponsor him during his stay. He accepted Christ shortly after arriving and became a truly shining example of a transformed life.

Nine months later he moved out of the rehab and he is now working as a mason’s apprentice near Igapó (the last street stop on Thursdays). He also has his working papers and insurance. But more than that he’s had the chance to go and witness to friends that he grew up with who are still living on the streets. Rafael asked about him one day when we gave him a ride. Lori was able to tell him how well Clessio is doing because of what the Lord Jesus has done for him. Luiz is another young guy Clessio grew up with on the streets. He’s hiding out somewhere because of a drug debt. If they find him, they’ll kill him. All for 230 reais.

Clessio has so much potential to lead more men and women to Christ. He was into drugs just as deep as many of these people on the streets still are. Now he can’t get enough of his Bible and he’s thrilled at the opportunity to tell others of his Savior. Even if he were the only life changed by this little testimony in Brazil it would be so worth it. What an awesome God we serve!

Filed Under: Gospel, Street Work Tagged With: drugs, gospel, rehabilitation, Street Kids

Without God I wouldn’t be here today

June 11, 2010 By PaulT Leave a Comment

“I was using crack daily when Mark and Lori brought me to the Nova Aliança rehab center. Without God I wouldn’t be here today,” said Clessio.

Saturday afternoon after all the Gospels of John and tracts were passed out and the market had closed we headed to the Nova Aliança rehab center to meet with Clessio. He spoke of the love of Christ and the need to meditate daily on the cross and the love that was displayed there. How that love sets free and liberates from the bondage of sin. We talked of how the Lord Jesus holds us secure and will never leave us or take away His love. Clessio is a bright light in the rehab center and a joy to speak to. When you hear him talk of the old life and the wreckage of sin and then the glorious transformation you stand amazed at the marvelous grace of God.

There are 70 people there at the center. It costs R$400.00 (200.00 dollars) to bring someone there. If you do not have the money they will not turn you away. Once in the center it costs R$300.00 (150.00) a month to keep them there. Clessio’s family is hours away and cannot help so he has come to depend on Mark and Lori to provide for him. The rehab center provides them with a busy daily schedule that includes work- gardening, cleaning, kitchen duties, caring for the animals, or chores- and bible study, gospel messages and a new state run funded program to educate them to the 11th grade level.

He gave us a tour of the center and stood proudly beside his bed. I thought of all the “beds” I had seen by the roadsides, nothing more than a piece of cardboard or a threadbare blanket in a median along the road, but here he was in a simple center with a bunk bed yet in his right mind and praising God… what a miracle salvation truly is. I know he will appreciate your prayers for him.

BELOW: Clessio in the chicken coop…..

BELOW: Kitchen of the center

BELOW: Clessio beside his bunk

Filed Under: Gospel, Street Work Tagged With: drugs, gospel, rehabilitation, Street Kids

Living in Fear

June 10, 2010 By PaulT Leave a Comment

It is hard to image living every day in so much fear. And hard to stand in front of young ones as they are shaking and crying out for help. They point to bruises and scars from nights before. Young ones are being beaten or shot by both drug dealers and civil police. Every stop (we make 10 stops every day to pass out tracts, food and juice) is spent praying for the Lord to protect these young lives and to make them aware there is a God who loves, cares and watches over them and longs to save them. You leave these stops whispering to God to preserve and protect and knowing that some of these young ones will never be seen again. It is heartbreaking to me.

The last stop yesterday found 2 very young- eight year olds- whose parents had told them they did not want them any more. They are living under the cardboard boxes on the corner where we pass out bibles and tracts. One of the vendors told us that the drug dealers would soon give them “Free” drugs to get them started on a path there is little chance of return. I asked Lori is there no-one we can have help these two little ones and she said no. I wept as I watched them. Lori said that is why we are here, because there truly is no one to help them. The local drug dealers have reduced the price of their drugs to $2.00 R / $1.00 US per package. They are hoping to get more people hooked before raising it again.

The young children on the streets are everywhere. And the need is so far beyond what WE can ever meet. It makes you realize again and again that this is God’s work- and HIS alone.

TOP PHOTO: Praying for their safety and salvation…

BOTTOM PHOTO: Andrew, William and Stephanie passing out tracts

Filed Under: Gospel, Street Work Tagged With: gospel, Street Kids

Happy at Work!

June 9, 2010 By PaulT Leave a Comment

Appreciate your continued prayers. First day in the streets brought rice and beans and juice that they had prepared the night before to the street children. In the back of the pickup- Stephanie is serving rice, Andrew handles the beans and on the ground-Katie tops the dish with Farofa (think grated cheese) and distributes to the street kids.

Andrew commented on the ages of the kids getting food… thinking that they were much older than he had thought. What he discovered was they appeared to look older but most were in the their early teens…. The life they are living has added many years to their faces.

The respect for the word of God, tracts, and prayer is an encouragement. And we are praying that His word will be blessed !!!!

Filed Under: Gospel, Street Work Tagged With: food, hunger, hungry, poverty

For All to See!

June 8, 2010 By PaulT Leave a Comment

We put a clean shirt on every morning and think nothing of it. What if you had one shirt or no shirt? As we visited the street corners and the young children that live on mats on the corners where they work, you notice how many have little or no clothes. Its not because they are looking for a tan, or like walking barefoot on the hot tar until their feet bleed, they simply don’t have.

“Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry,

And that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house?

When thou seest the naked, that thou cover him”

Isaiah 58

Yesterday we spent the day passing out shirts / and tracts to the young ones that have been a regular part of the work. A Brazilian green / yellow shirt with Romans 5:6 printed on the back. 75 shirts were passed out and it was amazing to see the kids so thrilled to have a new shirt of their own. Along the way there were mothers (some as young as 13) with children and we were able to give them clothes that had been brought from home.

10 major intersections now have groups of kids wearing Romans 5:6 as billboards for all to see.

Filed Under: Gospel, Street Work Tagged With: gospel

42 A Minute??

June 7, 2010 By PaulT Leave a Comment

He held out his hand and reached. The Alecrim marketplace was busy on Saturday morning- shops closed promptly at noon. We had prepared the juice for the coolers and loaded the truck with 2,500 Gospels of John. The month of June has a national holiday called St John’s day, which we originally thought was on the 3rd, but we found out that it is celebrated through the month and culminates on the 24th of the month. We didn’t know that when we ordered 5,000 Gospels of John, but God always has this way of arranging things!

People ran after us asking for copies of the Gospel. As the buses pulled up, Mark held out his hand and hundreds of people took a copy of John for their own. The bus stops were filled with hundreds of people and new people arrived and left every few minutes. Stephanie and Katie walked the streets and shops, and Andrew manned the juice station that the Police had given us permission to set up on the square. Lori and Caroline worked the groups of people passing thru the square.

In the center of the square, an evangelical preacher. with a microphone and large amplifiers, was preaching with fervor. I grabbed William and walked up to the preacher, waiting for him to come up for air. I handed him the gospel of John and had William tell him that we had arrived with 2,500 gospels of John – living water- and that they were FREE to anyone in the sound of his voice. I smiled and walked away. He began immediately in Brazilian Portuguese to announce that a blessing had arrived and like the gospel it was free to whosoever will. People began streaming towards us arms out! It was very hot but we barely noticed.

After 1 hour all the copies of John’s Gospel were gone. Andrew calculated we had given out 42 a minute! God’s word is living and He promised it would not return void- so we leave it there. And pray for the souls that hold that precious word in their hands.

PaulT

TOP PHOTO: Andrew, Katie and Steph at the station in the square
BOTTOM PHOTO: Stephanie and Katie at the shops on the sidewalk

Filed Under: Gospel, Street Work Tagged With: gospel, preaching

Tables and Benches and Eternal Siblings

May 30, 2010 By MarkP Leave a Comment

Hi everyone!

I’m checking in with you, to touch base with my eternal siblings at home. I wanna let ya know we’re all fine, and spend some time updating you all on the events of the past few weeks.

Did you just shudder at that “eternal siblings” expression I used? Don’t worry, I’ll have my perfect body then, and be much easier to get along with. Don’t forget we’re going to be together forever. Thank God He’s going to fix all the flaws, and we’ll be the person we’ve always wanted to be in life. And besides that, we won’t be occupied with each other.

I just came across that passage where the religious rulers thought they had backed the Lord Jesus into a corner by telling that story of a woman who married a whole family of brothers. He told them they were narrow-minded fools, who had no idea what heaven will be like. He told them that they thought with the typical, small mind of a human, who can’t get beyond the familiar, flawed relationships of earth. He told them that they will have a partner in heaven, towards whom they can show all their affections. This One will fill every relationship void we’ve ever had. We’ll constantly long to be in His presence, all of our affection focused on Him. It will be a perfect relationship, just the way He always intended relationships to be on earth. We will find absolute loyalty, faithfulness, pure and flawless love, and He will be the spouse we’ve fallen in love with. He will be our better half. Our marriage vows will contain words like forever, no one else, never separated, and everlasting love. I guess that’s why we’re called the Bride of Christ.

I’m finding it difficult punching these keys, with one very important finger fat with bandages. I’m slated for surgery on Wednesday, to re-attach a nerve severed this week while working in Aningas. It happened on a Monday morning and I was delegating jobs to the four boys who are now working alongside me in Aningas, learning how to work with wood and make simple furniture.

One of the jobs I gave out was very unpleasant, so being a thoughtful boss, I went out to help the boy complete it. There was a large, unsightly pile of trash, that had evolved as a result of our remodeling the Galpão, and I wanted it gone. We built a large fire pit out of cement blocks (about six feet by six feet by four feet tall). The idea is to allow the trash to accumulate throughout the week, than burn it on Friday. The present pile was a mixture of flammable and non-flammable waste. We had no gloves, so we began sifting through the pile with bare hands (very foolish). It wasn’t long before my hand came in contact with broken glass and came out of the pile with a large gash. I immediately knew serious damage was done, because I lost all feeling in that finger. I stopped the bleeding, wrapped it up, and finished off the day.

That night I met Lori in the city, and we went to the emergency room to get the cut assessed. The doctor on duty looked at the cut and told us we would need to see a hand surgeon, because he suspected that I had cut through the nerve. They cleaned the cut, bandaged it, and gave us the name of a hand surgeon to visit the next day. The following morning, Dr. Hélio looked at the cut and confirmed that the glass had gone deep and severed a nerve. “I can’t guarantee success,” he said “but the nerve needs to be re-attached.”

With that, an appointment was made at the hospital for the coming Wednesday, and I got ready to go “under the knife.”

We finished our first project, in Aningas, and the boys are so proud of their accomplishments. I decided to start with a simple 60″ trestle table with two matching benches. Considering that it’s the first thing the boys have ever built, and the first time they have ever used a table saw, power miter box, nail gun, screw gun, and a router, they did an awesome job. We made six sets and I think we have sold them all.

It is complicated here because everything is sold in the form of payments, and I mean everything. You buy a week’s worth of food at the supermarket, and the first question they ask is if you want to pay once or if you would like to make payments! The savings for those who make one payment is about ten percent, but most folks can’t go that route.

I gave one of the boys the responsibility of keeping track of these payments for me. We want to move a lot of product at a tiny profit, rather than make a huge profit on lesser volume, so the boys can stay busy, continue learning, and more boys can be given the opportunity.

Covering all expenses I can sell the table and bench set for R$278.00 or about $150.00 US. That’s a good deal, no? We had a local bar approach us after seeing the finished product and ask if we could make several round tables for them. I showed the boys our next planned project and they were all excited. I’m also thinking to create a bunk bed system that can be configured several different ways, and added to, as needed, with a selection of accessories available, as well( dressers, desks, trundles). Most of the folks in these villages sleep on the dirt floor or swing from hammocks, and I’ve been asked several times if we could make them beds. Many of the kids have health issues because their mattresses are on the dirt floor, which is rife with all kinds of unhealthy living things.

For the past two weeks, I’ve been taking my boys into the city, which to them is a real treat. Eliel, my friend and language teacher, owns a small house on the south side of the city, that for some time he has rented. The rent from this house covers the rent on the house his family presently lives in, north of the city. His tenant moved out after running up a huge water bill. He left the house trashed and a mess, and left Eliel responsible for his mess.

First and last months rent as a safety precaution, ha! Security deposit, ha, ha! Signed lease, Ha ha ha, no!

Everything here is based on verbal agreement, and people live month to month, or in many cases, day to day.

With no money coming in, no money to repair the damages, and no one to help him get back on track, I raised my hand, jumped up and down, and begged Eliel to pick me. I leave our house at about seven-thirty, drive the forty minutes to Aningas, get the boys, drive the hour and a half to the city, work till four-thirty, and get the boys home in time for school which starts at seven o’clock.

The school bus leaves the village about five-thirty, and I missed it last Wednesday night, getting the boys back about six. Paulo thought he had wiggled out of school for the night, and quickly lost the grin when I told him, “No, no, I’ll drive you in,” insisting on the importance of education. These boys are accountable to no one here. No one makes sure they’re at school, no one calls their home if they don’t show up. If you’re not self- motivated, you’ll never get an education. Vaughn, one of my boys, is pushing thirty, with a family to support, and is unable to read or write.

So, that Wednesday night, I waited while Paulo showered and dressed, and collected him along with his pretty, sixteen-year-old wife, and headed off to their school. Forty minutes into the ride, we passed the bus he missed. It was chugging along, making stops and collecting kids as it went.

“Where is this school?” I asked. He smiled and pointed farther down the road. It was a good hour when finally we arrived at the high school that servers the surrounding communities. One hour, driving straight from the village to the school, or an hour and a half ride, on a bus that makes stops the whole way.

“What time does school get out?” I asked.

“We finish at ten o’clock,” said Paulo.

“What time do you finally get home?” I asked.

“We’re back in the village by midnight,” he said.

It was very late when my day finally ended. I made the trip home deep in thought, trying to enter into the hard life these people live just to survive. Paulo’s day starts about six in the morning, he works all day, cleans up, and heads out for school. Then, he finishes the day on a dirt floor for a few hours of rest, only to start it all over again.

I’m getting close to these boys, they look up to me and respect me, and they have even brought me to meet their families. Please pray that I honor God as I work beside them each day. I envision sitting with them someday, as together we remember the Saviour Who died for our sins. I envision the day when, by God’s power, they grow to be leaders that are shepherding the small flock that God called out of Aningas, to honor Him. Please pray that God helps us to let our light shine in Aningas, so men will see our good works and acknowledge and glorify the God of creation. What a privilege to be the ones chosen to bring them the message about a life so distinctly different than the one they’re presently living. This life I’m telling them about is eternal in nature, available to them, and they are being pursued by the great God of love.

Aningas may be an invisible village to the folks in Natal, who know nothing of its existence, but it is a village that has been singled out by a God who has great plans for these very humble people. The people in Aningas have welcomed us into their homes, and by doing so, have welcomed God. That’s the kind of folks that see God’s blessings.

God is now a property owner in Aningas! That’s kind of a funny statement considering it’s all His to begin with. With the permanent visa in place, we were now able to purchase the six and a half acre parcel of land that, God Willing, will be the site of an orphanage. So, we went back to talk to Iranilton and his dad, owners of the land. Maybe he was affected by all God has done in the village to date. Maybe his thinking was that as Americans we were rich, and thought we should be sharing the wealth with his family. Whatever the reason, when Lori approached him on that Friday afternoon, he had raised the price of the land to fifteen thousand reais, from the originally agreed-upon ten thousand reais. Lori told him we would need to pray about this and came home to tell me the news.

We spent the weekend bringing this to God and asking Him how we as His servants should proceed. By Sunday night it had become very clear to us what God wanted. If this was God, if He had a great work for us to do in Aningas, if He had in fact called us to rescue these children off the streets and provide them a home where God could care for them, then the land would be sold, to God’s work, for ten thousand reais.

We found him working in his garden Monday evening, and approached him with this answer. I did the talking and, once again, explained our reason for being in his village.

“We love the property,” I said.

“We have no doubt that it’s worth all of fifteen thousand reais and we think that you should get as much as you can for your land. But this is not our money, it is God’s. This won’t be our land, it will belong to God. We are here as representatives of the buyer, and He is able to make the land available for the original price, if it is His will. And if it is not His will, we do not want the land.”

“Antonio offered me considerably more,” Iranilton responded, “but I don’t like him and wouldn’t even entertain his offer. Your family has brought blessing to our village since you first arrived, the plans for this property will only bless my people more. I want you to have the land and will sell it to you for ten thousand.”

The next day we received this news from one of our many co-workers at home:

“It is time to purchase the land; we will wire the funds into your account so that they’ll be there and ready to use when the moment comes. God bless you both.”

Did you ever go down a city street full of traffic lights, and time it so that all the lights turned green just as you approach? And you think that’s just the coolest thing and aren’t I lucky today? It took us five weeks to buy a car and I was dreading this process of buying the land thinking it could only be worse. Within three days and two trips to the town hall in Ceará-Mirim, the document was in our hand, and the land belonged to God. Lori did what she does so often, blowing a kiss to heaven, because she’s just been reassured that God is still with us, and He has things well in hand. I enjoyed the run down Main Street watching God turn each light green, just as I approached it.

There’s a window-washing squeegee in the garage, that now stands as a memorial to a very heart-wrenching day on the streets. Lori originally bought it for João, who had asked us for a new one. Every Thursday we made sure it was in the truck as we left to spend the day feeding the city street kids. João was never at his stop, so the squeegee rode back home with us, to be stored with all of the Thursday paraphernalia, waiting for the next week’s feeding.

Frank was good guy. He always had a big smile on his face, and was always so happy to see us. He seemed so out of place living on the streets, and in my mind and heart, I had hopes of seeing him as living evidence of a God-transformed life. We prayed for God to use him to bring the message of life to his street companions. I remember watching him one day as he pulled on this very cool shirt, that I found among the donations and saved just for him. He was so excited at the way he looked in it, and I thought how heart-warming this would be to the saints at home, who had taken the time to make sure Frank had a shirt. If we arrived at his stop and he wasn’t around I’d go find him. I knew where his piece of cardboard was, under a big tree behind a local street vendor. He would be taking his afternoon nap and he was never annoyed that I had reached down and shook him awake. With that so-happy-to-see-me smile on his face, he’d jump up and walk with me back to the truck for some lunch.

I put the squeegee into the back of the truck a few Thursdays ago, with Frank on my mind. I knew he’d be there, his window washing tool was on its last leg, and João was never around.

“I’m giving it to Frank,” I concluded.

We pulled up to the intersection, jumped the curb, parked on the median as always, and started exiting the car. Lori was met by one of the kids waiting for our arrival. I could tell by the look on her face that the news wasn’t good. She started to weep uncontrollably and I couldn’t get any information out of her. Finally, I made out what she was trying to say:

“Frank is dead.”

At eight o’clock, either at night or in the morning-we have heard both-Frank was on his corner in Petropolis, washing windows. A motorcycle drove up, with two men on it. The driver pulled a gun delivering two shots. One shot went to the head, one to the chest, and Frank slumped to the ground, breathed his last, and went out into eternity. Edivan, alias Meio-Kilo, alias Rafael, told us the story.

“I was standing right beside him, I saw it all, and ran for my life,” he said.

The kids all wanted us to believe it was random; they told us that the two men on the moto were drunk. It may have been, but most of the time these shootings are for one of the following two motives: the victim owed money, some as little as R$5, or US $2.75, or the police, on or off-duty, were “executing” a random street kid “purging.” Edivan claims that the second bullet was aimed at him and he narrowly escaped with his life.

After much time, with Frank’s body lying in the street, the polícia arrived, went through the motions, and took his body to ITEP and no one is expecting to hear anything more about this. With no Identification or documents, Frank technically never existed, his body will be buried with other unknowns and forgotten, and life will go on.

It started to pour rain as we climbed back into the truck and made our way to Igapó, the last stop. Lori pulled out her i-Phone and played some hymns and quietly we listened, as through the music, we were reminded of our only responsibility:

“Tell them, even if they won’t believe you,

Tell them, even if they won’t receive you,

Just tell them for me. Tell them that I love them,

And I came to let them know.

Tell them on the streets

And on the high ways

And tell them, even on the bi-ways

Tell them I can mend the broken heart…

And I came to let them know.

We arrived at Igapo, our last stop. It was dumping rain and we just wanted to go home and end, what had turned into, a very sad day for us. We knew we had no right to let the kids down and skip this last stop, so Lori and I stepped out into the pouring rain just wanting to get this stop over with and leave.

Adriano was waiting for us. His clean white button-down shirt was drenched and sticking to his skin. He had ridden the fifteen miles on his bike once more, wanting so much to see us again. He was so thankful that we had been sent by God, who had reached and saved his soul. He stood beside us in the rain. The kids poured out of their shelters, running for their food and drink and then dashing back to any overhang they could find. Adriano spoke to any willing to linger in the rain, telling them of God’s power and the great transformation that had taken place in his life. We stood in the rain till all the sandwiches and juice were gone, hugged him goodbye, and parted company.

As we walked back to the truck, I saw Lori kiss her hand again and raise it towards heaven. To a God who is so good that He sent Adriano to be a comfort to us. With a God this kind and this loving, we can trust Him to always do what is right and what is just.

We drove home and we went to our bedroom. Lori threw herself across the bed and I listened to the quiet sobs. Frank had seen God, in our care for him; we know that because he told us. We had put the gospel in his hands, he had heard it from our mouths many times. He was always respectful, and he bowed his head and closed his eyes as, often, we prayed for him and his street buddies. He told us, on more than one occasion that he “had Jesus in his heart.” He’s beyond help now and only God knows where his soul is. Our prayer now is for his tragic death to be the means of reaching the hearts of his companions.

I would put him in his forties, with the ruts of a very hard life carved all over his body. His hair hadn’t been cut, his face hadn’t been shaved, nor had his clothes been changed, in what looked like years. He had one tooth left, and that one was was hanging on for dear life. We had never seen him before, but that’s not unusual. He lives under the stadium and he hadn’t eaten in a very long time. What caught our attention was how quickly he recognized our being there as God speaking to him and showing him His love. It’s a busy stop, and we did our best to listen to him, while handling the crowd around the truck. He just kept thanking God over and over, and as he did, he began to weep. I turned towards him and he put his head on my shoulder, as if finally God had provided a moment of relief from the pain of what was his life. I held him as he wept, loaded him with food for later, and made sure he knew we would be back next Thursday, God Willing.

Lori and I looked at each other and and she put into words what I was thinking:

“This just isn’t right, this is not what God ever wanted, nobody should have to live this way. If the circumstances surrounding this man’s life touched our heart, how heavy the heart of the Savior must be, as He daily sees the pain and hunger and thirst and injustice, that sin has brought man.”

We were getting ready to leave the Ponta Negra stop last week, after feeding a record number of boys. I was putting everything away when I saw Lori off talking to Luiz-Eduardo. He’s a regular at this stop, along with his wife, four-year-old son, and one-year- old baby boy. When I looked again they were praying, which told me something was up. I made my way over as Lori looked my way with an expression of unbelief on her face.

“He borrowed seventy reais (US $36) from one of his buddies and was able to pay off a drug debt,” she said.

“Monday was the deadline. If he didn’t have the money, he, along with his wife Luciana, and both children would have been shot to death”.

This is a tough street kid who was now standing with tears in his eyes, well aware of how close tragedy had come to his family. The threat was real, and the death sentence would have been carried out. These heartless dealers would wipe out a family and never think twice. His heart was now open to the gospel, and he wanted nothing more than our cries to God on his behalf, and the well being of his family. It was good to see the little family this week safe and sound. We piled them all into the truck and took them to the supermarket for food and some milk for the baby.

The highs and lows of working with these kids leave us drained. Just the experiences we have with them each Thursday leave us spent. After the tragedy of Frank’s death, we are filled with a sense of urgency. We’ve come to know many of the kids by name and they have shared so many painful stories with us about their lives. Our hearts go out to them as we do the only thing we can: show them the love of God and make sure they understand that, in a city, teaming with people who have no interest in their well-being, God cares, He sent His only Son to die on the cross for their sins, and He sent us to make sure they know.

The editor gets this next, and I know she’ll add anything I may have left out while correcting my many mistakes. I’ll close now thanking you all again for your support through prayer and e-mails. It’s such an encouragement to our family knowing of your burden for the work God has given us to do here. Our prayer is that these updates will help you see just how much you are a part of the effort here as partners in the work of God in Natal, Brazil.

We love you all in Christ and look forward to seeing many of you soon,

Mark&Lori,

Caroline and William

Filed Under: Aningas, Galpao, Street Work, Vá Livre Update Tagged With: aningas, galpao, hunger, poverty, preaching

Prayer Request

May 30, 2010 By MarkP Leave a Comment

Lori’s brother Paul and his daughter Stephanie, along with Katie Brescia and Andrew Rockey will be here with us, Lord Willing, this week. We are very happy to have the help that all these extra hands and willing hearts will bring!

Lori and I made up an itinerary for the week to plan each day and allow the kids to know what would be happening, day to day. Every day, Lord Willing, we will be on the streets with the Gospel and three of the days we will have a meal to give the street kids. We left Thursday open for the distribution of the Gospels of John because it is a holiday here. We thought that since we don’t know how the holiday will affect the quantity of food needed, we’d concentrate on distributing the Word and the clothes that the kids are bringing from home. Just as a curiosity we asked what holiday it was on Thursday. It is St. John’s day!

When we ordered the Word from the Sociedade Biblica do Brasil, we were told that just the day before they had lowered the price of the Gospels of John to their cost, 60 centavos or 33 cents each. They had also lowered the cost of the one other item we enquired about, the New Testament, to Real$1 each, or 55 cents each. We ordered five thousand Gospels of John and five thousand New Testaments.

Although the money was wired to SBB’s bank account on the 19th of May, the Bradesco bank is withholding the money from SBB’s account until the government money exchange form is completed. The form registers the exchange, on the money wired, from dollars to reais. Please pray for this paperwork to be completed Monday morning, the Word to be shipped tomorrow, and the timely arrival of the Word here in Natal.

Please also pray for the power of His presence with us, minute by minute throughout the days to come. There is no way to express how your prayer lifts up our hands and strengthens us, but you need to know that it is felt.

Love in Christ,

Mark&Lori,

Caroline and William

Filed Under: Gospel, Street Work Tagged With: gospel

Pictures and More!

May 3, 2010 By MarkP Leave a Comment

This post contains over 40 pictures, some with captions below them explaining the photo. If you subscribe to the blog via email and the photos do not come through, please visit the blog online at:

http://valivre.blogspot.com

Enjoy!