Thanksgiving in Our Hearts

With Thanksgiving in Our Hearts

Where should I begin? What should I include and what should I leave out? So much has transpired since we visited home in July.

I would like to begin by speaking well of our Heavenly Father. God is a good God, His word is reliable, His promises are trustworthy, and He truly does work all things for good.

I really don’t want to rehash the assault on my family, other than to mention the great things that God has brought out of an awful experience.

It was early on a Thursday morning when we were awakened with the call that Lori’s truck had been recovered. Thursday was our street feeding day, but once again our plans were being turned upside-down. We had to take a dune buggy to reach the truck because it had been abandoned it in the middle of a sand dune park, quite a distance from a car accessible road. It had no wheels, no tires, no battery, no radio, no wipers, every fender was either smashed or damaged, and it was sitting on its side half buried in sand. The police let us know that it was our problem to recover it from the dunes and cautioned us that leaving it there another night would mean even more damage.

We didn’t know where to start, what to do, who would help us, or how we could get the car off the dunes and out of the park. We put the feeding off, no doubt disappointing a lot of kids, and went to work. How difficult would it be to buy tires, wheels, and a battery? We spent all day, going from one place to another, at times feeling like we were going around in circles, and nobody was able to fit the correct wheels to Lori’s truck. I remember looking up at the sun as the day was slipping away. I knew that at five-thirty it would be dark, and any hope of recovering the truck would be lost.

Finally, we were able to locate some used, junky-looking wheels, but they would work. We bought the tires, wheels, lug nuts, and battery, and headed back home as the sun began its descent.

Souza is a local buggy driver who, over the past year, has become a friend. He knows the dunes well, so we called to ask for his help. “I can’t help right now, I’m with clients on a buggy tour,” he said, “If I’m able to, I’ll come later”. Nielson, William, and I loaded the truck with tools, shovels, and gas and headed out, knowing that we would have to figure this out on our own.

The sand is really soft, so I didn’t even know if my truck would be able to climb the steep dunes. The sun was now dropping below the horizon and time was of the essence, so I put it in low 4×4 and went for it. I crowned the first dune, dropped into the valley, and then crowned the second. You can imagine my surprise as I  looked down to see Lori’s little truck surrounded with buggy drivers! Souza had dumped his clients, rounded up his buddies, and was waiting my arrival. For a moment I found myself with reason to be thankful as they jumped my truck, unloaded everything, and went to work to save our vehicle. It wasn’t long though before the worry came back. They informed me that the threading was wrong and none of the lug nuts would work.

We were out in the middle of nowhere, it was just about dark, and everything was now closed. I had nowhere to turn and started to feel very alone. I got down in the sand, with my back towards the men, looked to heaven and began to ask, “Why? Lord, I’m yours, my family is yours, our life is yours. Help!” I had done well till now, but no longer could I hold back the tears. I asked God how He planned on producing anything of value from the past week’s events. I asked Him how He could use  me with such wavering faith. My kids were scarred by the assault and were now living with real fear. I  was helpless, as the dad, to protect them. We had lost everything of value that we had. And now, I wasn’t even being helped after the fact, as I tried to get our life back on track. I needed God’s help to get the right lug nuts. I recommitted the car to God, and prayed for His help to get it out of the sand and back home before we lost it completely. It was a moment of real doubt, and I gave up.

I turned to let the men know we’d finish this the next day. But they hadn’t even noticed my little breakdown, they were feverishly making phone calls. “Let’s go,” Souza yelled, “We’re not done yet.”

We climbed in a buggy and headed out to find help. We went through the village, from one house to the next without any luck. Finally Souza called a friend who owned an auto parts store. The friend agreed to open up his place, and see if he could help us. He was able to come up with enough to put three lug nuts on each wheel. “Pay me if they work,” he said. Then, he locked up his store, and we  headed back to the dunes. I was overwhelmed by this effort to help, and felt a bit better.

We crossed the park entrance, climbed the first dune, and then veered wildly off course. The men had caught a fox in their headlights and felt there was time enough to chase him around the dunes. We arrived back at the truck, and it was pitch black. Souza’s friends had lit the truck with their buggy lights. They had dug it out of the sand and were ready and waiting our arrival. Within an hour, the tires, wheels, and battery were installed, and they had pulled the truck out of the sand pit and off the dunes. All I could say was thank you to these friends, hoping that some day I could repay them. With a great feeling of relief we all headed back home.

Would God answer the desperate prayer of a wavering Christian as he knelt in the sand and questioned God’s divine plan? Well, let me tell you about the events of the past few months, and you decide.

It was going great, we were working hard every day and making real progress. The land for the orphanage was just about cleared. I built gates and fences at the entrance, and was looking to get my hands on a backhoe so I could start breaking ground. The plan was to get one house up right away. We had asked the street kids if one day they might want to live with us. We told them why we believed God had sent us to them, telling them what we believed God had in mind. Since then, every time we saw them, they asked if our house was ready yet. “No,” I would respond, “But we’re working on it.

As quickly as this work began it was stopped, dead stopped. We were cleaned out, and didn’t have the means to keep going. Why would God stop the very thing He gave us to do, we wondered. After all this was His project, His work; He loves these kids more than we ever could. Doesn’t He want them off the street and under Godly influence as soon as possible? There seemed to be no barriers, no obstacles, nothing but green lights. We were told by everyone we talked to here to just go build it. Everyone in Aningas was excited about this great new project that had come to their little village.

Suddenly, I was sitting at home, the boys were not working, and, seemingly, nothing was getting done. How hard it was to be still. We were alone here with God. I had no place else to turn, no one to get advice from, so the answers I needed could only come from heaven. I did the only thing I could do, I dove into my Bible. I read with a desire to hear God. I read expecting answers. I wish I could put in writing the wonder it is when God starts to speak to your soul and warm your heart. Maybe on some level I can better relate to those two travelers, trudging along in a fog of confusion and doubts and sadness. Going home to Emmaus was their only option, there was no place else to go. Then the Savior arrived and began to open the Scripture to them. The immediate response to revealed truth is a warm heart and a renewed spirit.

God showed me Lamentations 3, and taught me how to praise Him in the storm. When the hard time comes, wait passionately, seek diligently, and hope expectantly. Wait for Him to right the wrongs, for He must. He can not fail. And as you wait, worship. Seek to find God in the trial, because you are not there alone. Hope expectantly because recovery, restoration, and help is on the way.

Oh how well I remember hitting bottom (says the writer). But there’s one other thing I remember, and remembering I keep a grip on hope. God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, His merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. How great His faithfulness! I’m sticking with God (I say this over and over) He’s all I’ve got left.

I would love to share more, but suffice to say that God’s Word has been a real comfort to my heart as well as Lori’s. When I put my Bible down, I picked up my many notebooks filled with material that I had been neglecting. I would work hard at the language each day Eliel was teaching, but the next day I was back out working with the boys. I could tell that Eliel was a bit annoyed that I wasn’t being diligent every day in learning the language. One day he said, “Look Mark! I know this is difficult, I know you would rather be out working, but if God’s going to use you then you have to learn how to speak. You have helped me so many times as you shared the things God’s given you. Look around. All these souls, they need to hear God speak through you as I have.”

He’s been so excited the last few months seeing, as he puts it, real progress. One Saturday we had his family over to spend the day. We were in the pool, and I was talking to Eliel’s wife Eliane. Sophia, (their nine-year-old daughter who speaks some English) was swimming at the other end of the pool. I didn’t know she was listening till she yelled, “Wow Mark you’re really learning.” God took me out of Aningas, put me in a chair, and forced me to open the books. I’ve learned so much, but please keep praying! I’ve so much yet to learn.

Our landlord wanted to raise the rent, but we said no way. He kept hinting at it so finally Lori and I went to visit him at his office. We needed to discuss our concerns. Once again we explained why we were here. With so many needs, there was no way that we could commit more than what we were already spending for a home. We made it clear that if he insisted, we needed to start looking for another place to live. He didn’t back down, so on top of all we were doing, we also began to keep our eyes open for another house. We were coming up empty, finding nothing that would suit our family and the many coming to visit us and help in the work. After being assaulted, the kids made it clear that they were scared and wanted to find another place to live. This concern quickly moved finding a house to the top of our daily prayer list. What was once a relaxed and casual looking, became a diligent search.

Rogerio is a character, to say the lest. He lives in our little village, and presents himself as the local real estate broker, with his finger on the pulse of Jenipabú. He spends his days in the center of town, swinging from a hammock on the front porch of a house. He’s waiting for clients to come to him. He only has a bike so if you want to tour available property you had better be able to provide him with transportation.

I had gone into town to collect our mail at the little post office when he accosted me. Determined to sell us something, he never leaves us alone. I’m doing better with the language and most of the time can connect the dots and figure out what people are trying to say. My plan with him was simple, smile and nod till he runs out of words, then move on. He pummeled me with words, as he always does, I smiled and nodded as I always did, bid him fare well and made for home.

I had gone out for something first thing Saturday morning. When I returned, Lori and Caroline were gone. When they returned, Lori was a bit annoyed with me. “Why did you make an appointment to go and see houses with Rogerio if you weren’t going to be home?” Apparently, I had agreed to go house shopping Saturday morning. He had made arrangements with the home owners, and showed up at the house only to find me gone. Lori felt bad, and agreed to go, hoping it would make him feel better. “We saw one house that’s really clean,” Lori said. “It’s small, but the rent would be half what we’re spending now.” After she described the house I felt that I should go see it. “The house is also available for purchase, but something must not be right, because the price seems very low for ocean front property,” Lori said.

The next day I went to see the house with William. I saw tremendous potential and came back really feeling that we should pursue purchasing or renting the house. It is located about ten buildings down from where we’re living now. It’s in a tight little community of very secure homes, all of which are equipped with a security system that includes a Guard physically checking on the properties every two hours. The other home owners even had cameras installed so they could watch the road and beach front and pick up on anything suspicious. We spent the next few weeks continuing to look for a place to live, but also praying specifically about this house. Everyone we talked to felt the price to be very low for ocean front property. Dad and Mom arrived to spend the next five weeks with us. It was very comforting to have family with us, and more than once we took advantage of their shoulders. We told them about the kids wanting to move, and the house we had seen. We asked if they would come and look at the house with us. We made arrangements and were able to bring them over and get their take on the possibility of moving. Mom thought it was nice, though a very simple house. She could see that it was well maintained. But she also saw what would be involved if this house was to accommodate not only our family but also the many that come to visit. Dad immediately saw this as a  tremendous investment opportunity, and encouraged us to make an offer.

Once again it was a Saturday morning, and the persistent Rogerio showed up in the front yard unannounced. I could see that he wasn’t going away until we told him we weren’t interested or made an offer. We got the kids together, and while he waited on the patio, we commended this whole thing to God. “This will be Your house, so please tell us what to do,” I said. With that we had a quick family discussion. Together we agreed on a price that we believed, if accepted, would indicate to us that God was leading us. It was considerably less than the asking price and it was un negotiable.

We arrived at the house, sat with the home owner, and explained everything. We then made the offer.  She immediately refused. She then informed us that this was her daughter’s house, not hers. “She wants to sell because she never uses the house. She lives in France and the burden of maintenance has fallen on me. It’s her house, so it’s her decision.”

After that explanation, she made a call to France. Lori talked with the daughter and explained what we were doing in Brazil. “This house will be used for God and this is what we are comfortable to offer.” Lori said. “It’s a wonderful work you’re doing, the offer is very low, but let me talk it over with my husband and I’ll get back to Mom,” she said.

We were called a few days later with what the mom, Salette, said was good news. “My daughter has accepted your offer and only asked that you take care of Rogerio’s commission. Again a call was made to France and Lori talked with the daughter. She explained that we could not go one penny above what we felt comfortable offering, before God. The daughter said, “Sorry but no,” Lori thanked her for her time and hung up.

The house has a big, covered patio and we were all just sitting enjoying the ocean view and breeze, and so we were slow to get up.  Dad, Mom, and Lori were having a light conversation with Dona Salette while William and I were playing with her dog. The phone rang. It was France again. “I’ve thought about this and changed my mind,” the daughter said. “I want you to have my house, and I’ll sell for the offered price, no strings attached.”

This has not happened yet. We want to do our due diligence. We’ve had an engineer inspect the house, and an architect has been working on plans I drew, so we can see what changes will be needed, along with the cost. We also have a lawyer checking all the house’s documents. If this all checks out, then we would like to go forward, God Willing, and make this purchase. Please pray that God will continue to guide.

Ed and Gilvânia are a couple that we met as a result of our house hunting. We had seen the sign every time we drove by. It’s just about two miles from our present house. We knew that behind those walls was a house with a pool, and it was available for rent or sale. We hadn’t bothered before, but things had changed, and we knew that this needed to be pursued. We made arrangements to visit on a Saturday morning. Ed was waiting at the gate when we arrived. He greeted Dad, Mom, Lori, Caroline, and myself “Bom Dia”, but that was the last thing spoken in Portuguese. From then on, he spoke flawless English, as he and his wife made us feel very welcomed. A quick tour of the house and we knew that God had other reasons for this meeting. “My wife and I met and married in the US,” he said. “We’ve spent most of our life in New York. I received my engineering degree while there, and was involved in developing projects throughout the city. We came back to Brazil, knowing we would have to adapt to a completely different life, but the cost of your stressful life was too much for us. I’m a developer here, and Gilvânia is an attorney. Though our professions are hardly as financially rewarding as in your country, we really like the lifestyle here.”

I was itching to go back to work on the orphanage and saw this as an opportunity to talk to a local construction guy in my language, and pick his brains. He graciously answered all my questions, and I could see a real interest on his part to help.

While Dad, Ed, and I were having this conversation, the women were off in deep conversation with Gilvânia. “Ed,” she said, “Remember the people I told you I saw in the city that day feeding the street kids! Well, these are the people.” We had taken enough of their time and were leaving when they asked if we would come back and tell them more. We agreed and made arrangements to come back the next day.

Ed had his architect Antonio waiting for us when we arrived. “Tell us more,” they said. So we started from the beginning and laid it all out so they could see, if not understand, that we were here sent by God to do His work. “How far into the project are you,” Ed asked. “We purchased the land and cleared it,” I said. “We would have been well into construction but God shut us down.”

“Do you have a detailed plan?”  Ed asked. “Have you checked local building requirements, have you tested the soil, do you have permits, how about septic, water, and electricity?” To all of his questions I answered no. “I know these are all requirements at home,” I said, “But here I was told to just build it.”  “Everything required to build in the US is also required here,” he said. “The problem is, right now no one is enforcing it. The laws are in place, the north of Brazil is about to explode with development. Huge projects have been approved. All these laws are going to be enforced. If you go ahead without your permits in place, you will have invested a lot of time and money into something that could be easily stopped and shut down.”

He described a huge resort project he was presently involved in building, on the coast. When he told us where it was, we realized it was only a few miles from Aningas.  He had already gone through all the steps, he had already dealt with all the same people we would have to deal with. He and Antonio were so excited as they listened to God’s plans, and offered their expertise. It’s not hard” Ed said, ” it won’t take long, and it won’t cost much. We know how to do this, and we can help you through the process. We’ll help get the permits, we’ll help draw plans that work, and get them approved and stamped. I’ve found reliable contractors, and I’ve given them lots of work; I know they’ll help. I have already negotiated with all the local vendors and have volume prices. If you like the products we’re presently using, we’ll add your order to ours and get you the discounted prices. I’ll talk with the investors we’re currently working with, who knows, maybe they will be willing to help.”

Since then, we have met together many times. He took us to see his project, took us to meet some of his vendors, introduced us to his team, and has begun preliminary planning. We took them up to see the village of Aningas, and to look over the property. They loved the land, they told us it was perfect. As we drove through the village, all our friends wanted to stop us to say “hi”, as is always the case. “The Americans are very popular here,” Antonio remarked from the back seat.

God allowed us to face an awful experience. As a result, Aningas and the orphanage came to a screeching halt.  This is His Work, and it will go forward when He says so. We are only stewards of this Work, and our responsibility is to follow and obey God. We needed Ed and his wife; we just didn’t know it. What a disaster had we pushed forward, ignorant of all the requirements, and made a mess. But God wasn’t going to let that happen. As hard as it was to face, we experienced God step in and shut us down. He brought Ed and Gilvânia into our lives, and once again assured us that He’s in total control.

It’s been hard to watch my kids lose the innocence that life, in time, takes away. Dad’s not the tower of strength they thought he was. Mom and Dad can no longer guarantee that all will be well. William told his mom that he doesn’t like that he has to think this way now. “I just want to go back to the way I used to think and feel,” he said. Please pray for the kids, this has been especially hard on them.

I was struck while reading in Luke 15, as Jesus gives the description of what he calls a true disciple. It includes a willingness to be completely empty of self, so God and His will stands alone, a willingness to bear the cross of reproach that comes with your link to Christ, and a willingness to take what is dearest to you and let it go. Discipleship is linked with sacrifice, and without it we are described as salt with no flavor. Sometimes I think we deceive ourselves into thinking that it’s possible to be salt with less flavor. The Lord Jesus says, “no flavor.” Either you are a disciple or you are not. You are effective or of no effect. There are no in-betweens with God.

I watched the life of my family threatened; I almost lost what is dearest to me. Abraham was called to do the same and was willing. I want so much to be His disciple, but the question is, am I willing? I’ve watched as my kids have turned from Mom and Dad, deciding that the best one to trust here is God. They sleep in the same room now, and I listen sometimes as together they pray for God to watch over us all, before turning in for the night.

Caroline and I were out the other day and came across an awful accident. A man was laying in the street face up, his eyes were in that open stare, blood was coming from his mouth. “Dad! He’s dead,” Caroline gasped. Immediately, she turned off her music and began to pray out loud:  “God please save that man’s life, and if he has to die then please God, was he saved, can you take him to heaven? And oh God, please come close to his family.” She said “amen” then sobbed quietly as we made our way down the road.  Our children have been exposed to some very difficult things. It is probably just as well we didn’t know this before coming here. God knows best, and provides information on a need-to-know basis.  Please pray for our children, they are committed to this calling as much as Lori and I are, but they have been asked to grow up so fast.

We found Kilometer 6 just days after our assault. We had been told about it and finally were able to locate where these people lived. I’m going to post pictures on the blog because there’s no way I can describe this living environment with just words. The one thing that will be missing in the pictures is the awful smell. There are probably two hundred people, living in shelters erected from trash. We’re starting to learn their names but there are so many. There must be more than sixty children under ten living in this filth. They have no clothes to speak of, many only have underwear, and that has yet to be changed. They’re dirty, sick, and some of them run around with open sores. If they want to survive then they better be able to fend for themselves. Just last week we heard of a six-month old baby dying because bugs got into her skull, laid eggs, and ate away at the baby’s brain. The need is so great and what we do seems so inadequate. Please pray for this community; they need our God so desperately.

I won’t take the time to tell you how this happened, but we were approached by a local TV station. They picked a day and followed Lori and me and Dad and Mom as we did the feeding. We were interviewed and had a chance to speak well of our God and the work that He gave us to do. They filmed us while we fed the kids, than walked with us up and down amongst the cars as we passed out Bibles and tracts. Pray that God uses this for His glory. So often I worry that this kind of thing will exalt us, while the living God is overlooked. Pray that God will continue to help us decrease so that He may increase.

Currently, we spend two days per week on the streets, feeding and distributing Bibles, tracts, and the Gospel, with God’s promise that His Word will accomplish what it was sent out to do. We speak in the Gospel every Sunday night in Aningas. Sometimes we have a good number out including adults, but most times it’s all kids. There are four teenage girls that come faithfully and listen reverently. Pray for these girls that God reaches their heart with conviction. One day a week is spent with Eliel studying the language. He leaves having given me enough homework to keep me busy throughout the week. At least once a week we’ve been meeting up with Ed and his team as we continue to work towards building a home for these desperate children. Then, we fill in the gaps with the mountain of need here as best we can.

Time goes by so fast, and too much has passed without an update. I feel, in many ways, like we’ve just skimmed the surface, but I hope in some way that this helps you understand what God has been doing, so you are able to pray intelligently. For the many of you who reached out to us, and the many ways in which you did, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. God used you to encourage us, helping us to get back on our feet and push forward. We’re in this together, and lately I have keenly felt the reality of that truth. Please continue to pray for us as we remember you all at home.

We love you all very much in Christ.

Servants together for Christ,


My Time in Natal

Lori asked me to write something for the Brazil Update site when I returned home and had something bigger than a hand-held device to type on. Several of the Christians in my own assembly have also asked me to write a summary of the trip. This diary-style report attempts to satisfy both audiences. I apologize to the regular blog readers for the names and details I have included that you are already familiar with. The rest of you might want to go to http://valivre.blogspot.com to see pictures or read past updates or register your e-mail to receive future updates.

August 12-29, 2010

My niece Anna and I arrived on a Thursday afternoon at the usual time each week that 600 sandwiches and 40 liters of juice are dispensed throughout the streets of Natal with love and compassion and a printed message of the gospel. Because of our Thursday arrival the work was postponed until Friday and we were privileged to participate on our first day there. The trip around the city that day included 10 stops and took about 7 hours. (This large time factor is due to the time spent at each stop as well as the condition of the roads.) At one stop a woman told Lori that she was tired of her sin and asked to be prayed for. After Lori prayed with her, a city worker walked up and told this woman and Lori that he had been saved for 9 years and began to quote verses and discuss the gospel with Lori so that this woman would hear what God had done for him. We left them talking together; knowing God had arranged this seemingly coincidental meeting. While Anna gave out the sandwiches at each stop, Caroline and I dispensed the juice and Mark and Lori moved among the kids, speaking to them, putting an arm around them, sitting with them or praying with them as they ate. It is difficult to tell the ages of these young people from their faces as many look 10 or even 20 years older than they are due to the harsh conditions of living on the streets. It is heart warming to see how they look for the new gospel paper that comes with the sandwich. One young man told Lori that he lives in an abandoned building and with whatever light is available at night he reads the papers over and over. I couldn’t help but think how difficult it might be for these souls to grasp such a message of hope in their present living conditions and yet they readily acknowledge that they know God has sent “friends all the way from America” to them as no one in their own city has shown any care for their physical or spiritual well-being. Please pray for this work as God continues to present personal opportunities to share the gospel with these souls.

Sunday evening Mark gave a short gospel message to the children in the village of Aningas. The children gathered in the galpão, a large multi-purpose building in the center of the village that Mark and Lori have been given to use and which Mark has remodeled. About twenty four children came in and sat on benches but more came and stayed outside near the doorway to listen and watch. Caroline and Anna walked to the houses of some of the teenage girls and brought them to the galpão. Two adult sisters who are Christians also attended and the four young men that work for Mark came and sat on the work table. Mark stood facing them to get their attention and spoke the message in English and Lori translated. The message was simple and short and many of the older children listened with interest. We had brought juice and cookies in Mark’s truck and the children eagerly accepted these treats before walking home. Please pray for this new effort and the Seed that is being sown as the weeks go by, that these children will believe the gospel.

On Monday morning Mark and William packed up the 4-wheeler and left for Aningas to continue clearing the land they have purchased to build an orphanage. (Aningas is about 45 minutes north of the city of Natal in a rural area.) Lori, Caroline, Anna and I headed about 45 minutes in the opposite direction to visit the orphanage that had moved this year from a favela (the Brazilian Portuguese term for a settlement of self constructed houses with narrow and sometimes impassible dirt streets) to a rural area in the south of the city. We stopped for several large sacks of basic grocery and cleaning supplies and delivered them. The supplies were gratefully accepted as from the Lord.

Two years ago I visited this orphanage when it was located in the favela and remember the crowded and inadequate space for these children with no place to play except on the sidewalk. Cleide, the Christian woman who runs this orphanage was sleeping on a foam mattress that she kept in the closet during the day and dragged out to the living area to sleep on the floor at night. It was wonderful to see how the Lord has provided for them in the intervening two years. They now have a large yard that is fenced in and includes some animals and a garden. There are two buildings so the boys sleep in the main building and the girls and woman have bedrooms in the other. The children proudly showed us around, smiling and running. A judge has recently assigned a single mother with five children, including a newborn, to this place as he has been impressed by how it is run. We made note of a few clothing needs so that we could return with some of the donated items we had brought with us. Please pray for this woman and her family (her husband, daughter and parents) and their tireless work to care for these orphaned children.

The rehab center that Mark and Lori have taken some of the young people from the streets to is in the same area as the relocated orphanage but we did not have time to shop for and visit both places in one afternoon so planned to return the next Monday. Sadly, with the events that took place the next weekend we were not able to visit this place on this trip so I did not get to meet Clessio, the young man who was saved there. This rehab center is a non-denominational Bible-teaching rehab center with a nine month program. It was started by a man who, through the help of a pastor, beat his own addiction and was saved.

Tuesday morning Lori worked on the order of New Testaments and Gospels of John that she had started in the spring. She had only received about one half of the original order and it is taking many e-mails and telephone calls to see when the rest will be printed and if they will honor the original price. No replies. We prayed about it and later in the day they finally confirmed that they agreed with both the original price and the remaining quantity that would be delivered. (Note: she received about ten percent of the order after we left but with no indication as to when the rest will be coming. This is how this type of process goes in Brazil! I’m sure it is back to more e-mails and telephone calls.) Please pray for this part of the work as Mark and Lori desire to place a Bible in the hands of every person who wants one and will only be constrained by production logistics and pricing.

That afternoon we girls headed to Aningas. Caroline and Anna gathered a few of the teenage girls together and spent time with them in the galpão where Anna was able to practice the Portuguese she had been studying and the girls were able to practice the English they had studied with Stephanie and Katie earlier this summer. Lori and I visited three homes with Nildete, a government social worker who lives in the village. Nildete is a Christian. Her job is to assess the needs in each household each month. There are about three hundred families in less than two hundred homes. Unfortunately nothing much comes of the government reporting and sometimes there is quite a delay in her being paid but it gives her a good handle on the living conditions of each family on a regular basis. Mark and Lori keep a pantry stocked with basic food items such as rice, beans, salt, sugar and flour and Nildete has access to that supply as needed. Her work helps them focus on critical needs. Please pray for Nildete as she faithfully does her work with a genuine love and care for these families.

Some of the families in this village live in stick huts, others in simple cement houses with dirt floors and the more fortunate ones in simple cement houses with cement floors. Most of the houses are divided into a kitchen, bathroom, living room and bedrooms by sheets that hang in the doorways. The ceilings are open to the roof for ventilation, and there is usually a gap between the top of the walls and the roof. Most bathrooms are primitive. Most homes seem to have two small bedrooms. I noticed in one house that there were mats placed under the bed (a rough wooden structure only about six or eight inches off the ground and with one thin mattress on top) for children. Visiting these families was quite a unique experience for me as even in these destitute situations people are reluctant to ask for help. One mother had three boys who needed clothes and shoes. Another mother with three girls was too ashamed to tell us what the girls needed so we guessed at sizes for clothes and shoes. Nildete told us they had had no food other than rice and beans for several days and so we added fresh vegetables to the list for this family. The third mother had just moved into her house the weekend before. She had left an abusive husband and moved into this house with their three children and two of his children from a prior relationship that he did not want. She is also pregnant. She has no job and no money and a few neighbors were sharing their meager supplies with her but she did not even have the money for rent which was the equivalent of only $30.00 per month. We made a list of the children’s sizes and Lori agreed to pay the first month’s rent when it became due to give her time to settle in and for her teenage boy (from her husband’s prior relationship) to get paid from a job he had gotten.

In the homes, Lori hugged and talked to each mother, telling her that God had heard her cries on behalf of her children and had sent us to provide some clothing and shoes from donated items. She asked the names and ages of the children and prayed with each mother for her family, asking for their physical and spiritual blessing. Each mother listened to the heartfelt prayer with tears in her eyes. Nildete also invited each family to hear the gospel message in the galpão on Sunday evenings. Please pray for the salvation of the families in this village and that registering VaLivre as a non-profit organization in Brazil will allow more items to be sent for this purpose at the lowest shipping and tax rates.

I should note that as we were walking around the town we were passed several times by William (whom I have dubbed the “pied piper” of Aningas) giving rides on his 4 wheeler to several of the kids. He has an amazing way of befriending everyone, adults and children alike, and they love him. I should also note that he and Caroline have become quite fluent – at least it appears they communicate in Portuguese with ease. When we returned to the galpão to collect the girls, we found Mark not so at ease in the middle of his Portuguese lesson with Eliel. (Eliel is a missionary from São Paulo to the state of Rio Grande Do Norte and lives near one of the assemblies in Natal. He learned English in college and it is very proper. He is a very warm and friendly person and a patient but strict teacher!) Mark has quite a large Portuguese vocabulary but is learning grammar and by the expression on his face one can only conclude that it is quite tedious. Please pray for Mark in this effort as he truly wants to be able to communicate and speak his gospel messages in Portuguese.

Wednesday we sorted through the donated items and packed the donations for the families we had visited, shopped for the vegetables we had put on our list and headed to Aningas. We dropped the donations off and they were shyly accepted with tears and thanks. Again I am struck by how readily people in this village give God the credit for the things they receive. Anna and Caroline went with the girls from the village to the lagoa (lake) for a visit and a swim. Nildete told us about another family we needed to meet and we went to a stick house and met a mother, her three children, her sister, sister-in-law and another family member. The biggest need in this family was shoes so we took them to the galpão and let them sort through the bins of flip-flops and Crocs that had been donated earlier in the summer. They each left with a pair of shoes and a smile and a thank you.

Outside the galpão we met a fourteen year-old boy named Alfonso who has been attending the gospel messages on Sunday nights. He is usually the first to arrive and “dresses up” by putting on a pair of long pants. This boy appears to suffer from a disease known as Pica. This condition emerged after the death of both of his parents four years ago. He eats dirt and other non-food items and sleeps by the river with the animals. He has an older sister who lives in a house but does not really care for him, although there may be a mutual problem there because of his illness. Lori approached him and although he doesn’t usually talk to anyone, he let her clean his feet and put some medicinal cream on them as his feet are in very bad shape. This is an extreme case of a child who needs proper nutrition and care and the kind of child that the orphanage is intended for. Please pray for this young boy in particular as he faithfully listens to the gospel messages that God will save him and that Nildete and Lori and others will be able to get him the help he needs for his physical condition.

As a side note, it might be interesting to describe the business and bill payment process in order to understand how things operate in Brazil. The systems are all very labor intensive. In a retail store you don’t simply choose an item and take it to a cashier, you take the item to a person whose sole job is to write up a sales slip and then you take that to a cashier so you stand in two lines. Paying bills seems a full-time job. You must go to that vendor’s bank and pay in cash. You can’t pay in advance so you must do this each month for each vendor. When a legal signature is required you must have your signature authenticated, which is like a notary public seal but requiring many more documents to prove your identity (e.g. birth certificate, marriage license, etc.) and each time you need to do this you must produce the documents. Lori asked for 10 authentications at one time and she said they looked at her like she was trying to pull a scam. She is carrying a large file around in the car and every week one or two of these needs to be fit into a day and it is quite a disruptive responsibility.

On Thursday we assembled the sandwiches and mixed the juice for the weekly feeding. The sandwiches are made of mortadella (a popular bologna type meat) and mozzarella. While most of these children eat mortadella, they very rarely would have cheese so this is quite a treat. All 600 rolls are delivered to the house each week from a local bakery. The juice is Tang but it is in Brazilian fruit flavors and very much improved over the Tang I remember from the ‘70’s. The whole prep process, including slicing the rolls and cutting the meat and cheese, takes about two hours.

This week it was eleven stops in six hours as a couple of the stops had only two or three people. At one of the stops someone suggested a new place across the city for Lori and Mark to consider as a potential stop. At the final stop a deaf girl in her late teens or early twenties came to get sandwiches and juice. When she looked at the gospel paper, she started gesturing for several minutes very intently and with a fierce look in her eyes. We did not know if she could actually read but she seemed to know that the paper talked about God. Mark, Lori and I watched her carefully as she would poke us if we looked away. We concluded that she was trying to communicate to us that she knew God from a young age but that He had not been good to her. Lori bravely tried to use her language of gestures to tell her that God loves her but the expression on her face did not change and we could only pray for her as she walked away. At least she took the paper and we prayed that she could and would read it. During this time, Anna was taking pictures of all the children and they were crowding around to see the pictures on her camera and then wanted their pictures taken with her. They didn’t want her to leave but the sandwiches and juice were long gone and so we headed home before dark. (The sun sets about 5:15 p.m. and rises about 5:15 a.m.)

On Friday, we were back in Aningas. At the galpão, Lori gave some of the young girls an English lesson through the making of beaded bracelets. Anna helped her with this while Caroline and I gave some of the younger children Bible story pictures to color. At the other end of the building, Mark was working on what I called his contraption but which he called his masterpiece. This is the very sturdy wooden structure that fits perfectly into the back of his truck and holds 2 double thermoses and three large (water cooler size bottles) juice containers, a cooler of ice, a tall sleeve of plastic cups and a pump mechanism to get the juice from the bottles to the thermoses. It is quite an impressive structure but it takes abuse on the drive around the city and must be repaired from time to time. Look closely at posted photos of the street feeding for this red furniture marvel.

After leaving the galpão Lori, Caroline, Anna and I all squeezed onto a couch in a small living room as we visited another family. This woman has been raising her sister’s twins for two years since their birth and has now taken in her other four children. Her sister died a few days after the birth of her twins as far as Lori can tell because she hemorrhaged after being released from the hospital and did not have the bus fare of about $30.00 to go back to the hospital in the city. We made a list of the sizes of these children to help with some clothes and intended to come back on Monday but that was postponed because of the events on Sunday night and Lori had to make the delivery a week later.

We drove over to see the land and the progress on clearing it. It is a beautiful piece of property and Mark showed me the plans for the buildings and gardens and animal pens. He has already built a large gate at the entrance. William and the young men working on the land had found a large bee hive and one of them offered to smoke the bees out so we could get some honey. It was fun to watch this process but there was no honey after all that work! There are willing workers here but manual labor is very slow and inefficient as they burn the scrub they clear. However, renting machinery is not yet a possibility as it is unreasonably expensive. Mark is hoping to find someone who will rent him a machine at down-times or for a much lower price and is waiting for God to provide this. Please pray that God will provide the funds and machinery needed for this building project.

We spent the weekend relaxing, taking care of some necessary errands, reading, swimming in the ocean or pool and talking about the scriptures. Since I have come home I miss the thought-provoking nuggets that Mark would toss out to us after a couple of hours of private study on the lanai and the long and probing conversations about the scriptures with Lori. Anna, Caroline and William took a three hour buggy ride on the dunes but that much exposure to the hot sun would be too much for me so I had to decline even though it sounded like great fun. The rest of the weekend it rained.

Sunday night we went to Aningas for Mark to speak another gospel message to the children. They already knew one chorus that had been hand written on poster boards. Lori found six more choruses in Portuguese so she printed them on sheets with Caroline and Anna’s help and we tied the two sheets together with ribbons to take with us. The children thought these sheets were great. One of the songs was “At the Cross” and the two sisters (Nildete and Sandra) already knew this and helped sing it to the children. Unfortunately I was no help as I didn’t know how to pronounce the words although the tune was very close to the one we sing. Mark asked questions about the previous week’s lesson and one of the older girls answered them well and won a prize. When a few of the others saw how this phenomenon worked, they listened a little more intently this week.

Some of the other people I should mention are those who live on the property with Mark and Lori. A family lives in the house inside the front gate. (The entire property is surrounded by a wall except for the beach front where there is a fence.) Neilson takes care of the property and lives there with his wife Simone and their son Lucas, who is 9 years old. He is William’s shadow when William is home! None of this family is saved. Inacia is a Christian from one of the assemblies in Natal and she lives in the house with Mark and Lori from Monday to Friday, cooking and cleaning. She is a warm hearted mothering type who works tirelessly and lovingly. She goes home on the weekends and Simone does the cooking those two days. When I was there two years ago the cooking was really great but was mostly Brazilian fare. Under Lori’s tutelage and guidance, there is a much wider variety of food and some great pasta and meat dishes! Please pray for this family’s salvation and for Inacia’s blessing as she has become an integral part of the work here.

Sunday night we were all sleeping at about 1:30 a.m. Three young men, armed with a home-made machine gun and a rusty revolver entered the house through my open ground-floor window. I woke up suddenly and glanced at the window and saw a young man’s face. I immediately got up only to realize that there was at least one person already in my room. I surprised him and he surprised me and before I knew it I was struggling with two of them. I screamed for help (it would sound more ladylike to say “called” for help but the others would be quick to correct me!) and they tried to muzzle me. After a struggle which seemed long but was probably just a couple of minutes, I could hear that someone was awake upstairs and I stopped struggling. Two of them pushed past me into the house and the other poked something at me and gestured for me to get upstairs. Meanwhile, Inacia had heard me and was able to get out of her room at the side of the house and bravely ran down to the gate house to call the police. The neighbors also heard me and called the police.

When I arrived upstairs with the third bandit behind me, Mark, Lori, Caroline, William and Anna were all on the floor in the hallway with the guns trained on them. I found out that Mark had been heading down the stairs and met them heading up the stairs with their guns pointed at him. Everyone else was awake and in the hallway by then except Anna, whom they woke up with a gun pointed at her face and told her to get into the hallway. While at least one of them pointed a gun at us, the other two began to loot the house of every valuable item, including laptops, i-phones, cameras, watches, etc. At times they spoke to Lori or William and demanded that Lori get things for them. It made things very tense for us when they took her out of sight. The bandits were yelling for cash, assuming there was a large amount in the house and looked unconvinced that there wasn’t more. William bravely suggested that they could exchange the American money they found and it would be worth more in Brazilian Reais. (1 Real is worth $.58. When you shop you can multiply all the prices by 60% and get the U.S. dollar value. $1.00 is worth R$1.72 so you can add 70% when converting from U.S. $ to Reais.) They seemed to accept William’s answer and moved on to loading the things in the car. They had made Lori get them the keys to her car so they could use it to transport all the stolen items as they had come on foot. They had tied each of Mark’s, Anna’s and Lori’s hands and made us all go into the master bedroom and closed the door. They had tied Lori’s hands with a nylon zip-tie and then yanked on it, virtually cutting off the circulation to her hands. I had been able to undo the knots in Mark’s rope/string by the time we heard the car start up and Mark got down the stairs and out the front door as they drove away. At the same time the police arrived, missing the bandits by less than two or three minutes. We quickly found something sharp to cut Lori’s and Anna’s ties off.

The whole time the bandits were looting we were alternately praying for and talking to each other, honestly expecting that our lives might end that night. Although the bandits seemed to be interested only in the goods and not intending to harm us (evidenced by the fact that they didn’t shoot me or try to suffocate me at the outset) they were carrying home-made and old weapons, which are known to be very dangerous, and they were very nervous and agitated and therefore seemed inexperienced and unpredictable.

Caroline’s verse during the time we all lay in the hallway has stayed with me in song. She was repeating to herself Psalm 18:10 “The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe.” What a fitting verse for God to give to her in that moment! Clinton Utterbach wrote this verse to music and the Gaithers sang it in one of the homecoming productions. (For You Tube fans you can type in The Name of the Lord – Gaither and see it performed.) It continues to come into my mind when I think of that night.

When we were all outside with the police and they had gone in pursuit of Lori’s car and we were no longer in immediate physical danger, we prayed together and Mark thanked God for preserving us through the experience and asked God to show us what He wanted us to learn from it. We had keenly felt God’s presence during the robbery, but when we started to think of the many ways the events of that night could have unfolded and what might have happened we could see this more clearly and rejoice in God’s care and control over all of it.

Understanding that the bandits are “just like” the street children in Natal that they are trying to reach with the gospel, and knowing that the police at times tend to shoot them without “due process” Lori revealed to us that she had prayed that if the police were going to shoot them that they wouldn’t be able to find them until they would be brought to justice in a proper way. When she shared this with the woman who runs the bakery that delivers the 600 rolls every week, the woman was amazed and soon this testimony was reported around the town. Please pray for the salvation of these young men.

The aftermath of that night opened up the world of the Brazilian police for us and a new list of vocabulary words for Lori. First of all, there are many different types of police. There are military police, civil police, tourist police, car theft police and more and I won’t even try to describe the differences but we found that they don’t share any information because we had to give it all to each of them. (That is, Lori had to give it to all of them! During this process she had the additional burden of being the one we all relied on to communicate with the authorities. What a headache.) They don’t have a system for fingerprints so they don’t do anything at the scene except ask questions. We headed to Mark’s pickup (where he discovered the bandits had stolen some things including his prescription sunglasses) and it was a tangle of arms and legs in the extended cab as seven of us got in to ride into Natal to the police station. One of the police groups told us that they had spotted the car but “lost” it at the bridge into Natal. They would discover later that the bandits never crossed the bridge – they went next to it into a town only two beaches away from the house. From the first police station Lori called Eliel and he and his wife left their children with grandparents and came down to help. They were very kind and caring and it was a big help that William and I could ride in their car when the police told us we had to drive to a second police station.

We arrived home at 5:00 a.m. on Monday morning and all tried to get a few hours of sleep but it was a little difficult since the sun was already rising. At mid-morning the owners of the house (both doctors) arrived to see how we were and then more police who looked around the property. The doctors contacted a Delegate (local official) to help expedite the process with the police. In the daylight we could see three pairs of flip-flops that had been kicked off at the edge of the lanai and the police took them. In between visits by all the different police, we ate a late breakfast and began to make phone calls home and to credit card companies as all of our wallets except Lori’s were stolen. (Lori’s was a purse/wallet combination and when they looked inside and not in the front slots they tossed it aside thinking it was empty.) We also had to find out what to do about our flights to the U.S. the next day as Anna’s passport was stolen along with Mark, William and Caroline’s passports. My passport was in a zipper pocket in my purse, which they left after taking my wallet, and Lori’s was in her purse which they had not taken.

Commercial: American Express was a tremendous help to us. Once we contacted them they stayed on the line for over an hour and contacted everyone else for all of us, including finding the closest U.S. Embassy that could process an emergency passport and getting them on the line to make an appointment. They also offered to replace the stolen items that had been purchased with their card. They lived up to their excellent reputation.

Inacia faithfully worked all day cleaning the house and mopping up the dried blood. Some of it was from the gash on my leg during the struggle but one of the bandits must have cut his foot (they were barefoot) on glass that broke in my room and had tracked blood all over. She kept stopping to hug everyone and her expression was sad. When Caroline asked if she wanted to go to her own home, she said couldn’t think of leaving as she was with family.

Monday night was tough. We all slept upstairs with all the windows closed. (The bandits had only stolen one fan, so at least each room had a fan.) I slept in William’s room and he slept in Mark and Lori’s room and Inacia slept in Caroline’s room with Caroline and Anna. Lori, as you might expect, did some roaming in the night to make sure everyone was sleeping. She also took time to download contacts and applications onto William’s i-phone as the bandits had not taken it supposing it to be an alarm clock. (The i-phone did not work as a telephone there but at least we had access to internet and e-mail.)

Tuesday we spent doing three things. (1) We made a police report on everything that was stolen. Anna and I had to make a separate report with the tourist police while Mark and Lori were sent to another group. This took over three hours. We went home for lunch and left William, Caroline and Anna home to relax and swim while Mark, Lori and I accomplished the other two items. (2) We went to the federal building to get a printout of Anna’s visa so there would be no problem traveling the next day to Recife to get her a new passport. Meanwhile, Dave (my brother – back in Michigan) had to locate Anna’s passport card at home and scan it and e-mail it to the U.S. Embassy because they said they would still require two forms of I.D. for the passport! (3) We went to the bus station to purchase tickets for all six of us to travel to Recife. There is no way, such as telephone or internet, to buy or reserve tickets other than to drive to the bus station – which looks like an abandoned building with booths set up in it – and buy them in person. (This reminded Mark of his first reports of work in Brazil, which sounded like they accomplished very little each day. The whole system is designed for things to be accomplished in a face-to-face, manual and unhurried way!) On the way home, we stopped by the new area that some of the street children had suggested and found the most run-down favela that Mark and Lori had seen anywhere in Natal. They quickly judged that a feeding here would have to be done on another day as they didn’t have the capacity or time to add it to their normal Thursday. They talked to a few people there and promised to come back on Friday with lunch.

Wednesday we got up at 4:30 a.m. and got to the bus station at 6:00 a.m. and rode five hours to Recife. The buses in this country are extremely nice. They are air-conditioned Greyhound or tour-type buses, with a bathroom and cooler from which you can buy sandwiches, snacks and drinks. We arrived in Recife and got the usual Brazilian directions to the embassy. This is quite an amazing concept. No one will give you more than one instruction at a time. They literally say “go straight past that light and ask again.” The next person says, “take the next street to the right and ask again.” The next person says “keep going straight and ask again.” No kidding. You have to ask as many people as there are turns and stops along the way. After finding it and going through airport-like security, we were shown to a small room (with three chairs although there were six of us) labeled “American Citizen Services.” The rest of the main room was filled with Brazilians waiting for visas to travel to the U.S. Two hours later they were all processed and it was our turn.

We had thought we might be shown to a room other than the small waiting room for our appointment but they simply came to the glass window and handed forms back and forth. When we asked if we could call Heidi (Anna’s mother) to get some information she needed on her form we were told that they couldn’t make international calls. What? They also refused to fax the police report to the airline for us as they could only send “official” faxes. Even though this building had a sign that said “U.S. Embassy” it did not feel like any kind of real link back to the U.S. Two hours later Anna had a new passport and Mark, William and Caroline’s applications had been accepted. (They will receive theirs by mail.) We found a restaurant for our only real meal of the day and then headed to the bus station and the 5:00 p.m. bus back to Natal. It arrived at 10:00 p.m. and we still had to shop for the street feeding on the way home. We arrived home after midnight making it a 20 hour day.

Thursday morning should have found us assembling the sandwiches for the street feeding but the call came in at 7:00 a.m. that the stolen car had been found in the dunes. The police instructed Mark and Lori to meet them there and they had to hire a buggy to take them to the place. It gets better. There were no wheels or tires on the car and no battery, rear-view mirror or windshield wipers. It did not appear that the bandits touched the engine. The police asked Mark and Lori how they planned to get it out of there. Talk about adding insult to injury! After meeting the doctors that own the house and the Delegate again, they found the only shop in Natal that could provide what they needed and had to spend R$ 4,000 (remember the math? Multiply by 60% to get the U.S. dollar value) and then Mark would still have to take the items to the site and put them on the car himself. When he contacted his friend Sosa, a local buggy driver, Sosa contacted four other friends who were all angry at the robbery on Mark and Lori’s behalf and they helped dig the car out, install the wheels and tires and battery and drive the car home. Their help even included getting an auto parts store to open back up because they didn’t have the right lug nuts from the first store. The car arrived home at 7:00 p.m. This was the first week that Mark and Lori missed a street feeding and we were all disheartened that a standing promise had to be broken. At home that afternoon, Caroline, Anna and I had already cut and assembled all the meat and cheese onto trays so they would now be ready for sandwiches for the new stop on Friday.

Another item we accomplished on Thursday after several phones calls and Lori invoking “the tone” was to get United Airlines to agree to let us fly home on Sunday at no additional cost. They had been willing to waive any change fees but stated that our fares were no longer valid and we would have to pay an additional $351 each to return home. (This is why we wanted the police report faxed to them.) We were persistent and they finally relented and rebooked our flights for Sunday at $0 charge.

Friday morning almost felt normal as we assembled sandwiches for the street feeding at the new stop. However, Lori had been told on Thursday that they wanted to see the recovered car at the police station in the morning. Lori and I got ready to drive it over there, arranging for Mark to pick us up at the police station on the way to the street feeding. Just then Lori got a slightly panicked call from the Delegate telling us to wait for a police escort so she wouldn’t be stopped driving her own stolen car! We had to wait ninety minutes for the police to arrive. Lori handed them the keys and they handed them back stating they would follow her. By this time it was raining and Lori pointed out that the car did not have windshield wipers, to which they replied, “go slow.” She did. Lori automatically turned on the windshield wipers once we got going and we had a moment of comic relief watching the stubs (which we bent away from the windshield) moving back and forth. One bright point was that the car seemed to be running fine.

On Thursday we had discovered that one of my stolen credit cards had been used. At the police station we gave them the information we had gotten by e-mail from the credit card company. I hadn’t been able to contact this company until Thursday and a transaction had gone through on my stolen card on Tuesday. The police were excited to have a real lead. They were able to find out what item was ordered and where it would be delivered. The address was in the beach area next to the bridge. The police staked out the address and it turned out the inexperienced bandits had used one of their own addresses!

During the police investigation, Mark and Lori were required to give names of anyone in their late teen or early twenty’s that they had worked with and reluctantly gave names of some of the young men in Aningas. The police found when they arrived in the village that everyone was eager to show them how much Mark and Lori had done for them and showed them how Mark had repaired and remodeled the galpão and the land they were clearing for an orphanage and told them of the families they have helped and the gospel messages and the Christmas dinners, etc. When Mark and Lori visited the police station the next Monday they noticed a new respect from the police along with an interest in their work in Brazil and wondered where it had come from. They soon learned of the testimony their friends in Aningas had given to the police on their behalf.

Mark arrived with the truck and food and we all headed to the new stop. The deplorable living conditions in this favela are difficult to describe as the “houses” are truly lean-tos and shacks with donkeys and other animals living with them. The people started streaming out of the houses and surrounding us. Anna gave out over 500 of the sandwiches as they kept coming or returning. Caroline and I tried to dispense juice quickly but we could hardly keep up as they were bringing coffee pots and used 2 liter pop bottles to have us fill. Several elderly people came. The people were all smiling and expressing thanks and seemed genuinely thankful for such a treat and wanted to talk to us. Unfortunately, the language was a barrier for me and I could only smile and give them juice. Lori had gone into a house to visit the mother of a young man from another stop and Mark was calling people and taking a look around to see how many houses there were. They took the gospel papers with interest. Please pray for this new work as there is an enormous humanitarian need in this favela and many precious souls to reach with the gospel.

Lori and I took Inacia home that night. Her assembly had been very supportive. She had called them that night during the break-in and they immediately got up and opened up the hall in the middle of the night and gathered to pray together for us. This night when we took her home she told us that they were having a regular monthly all-night prayer meeting, which included fasting in the form of skipping dinner and getting to the hall at dinner time and praying through until morning. I believe she said the prayer topics vary each month but we were still on their list that night. It was very emotional for me to say good-bye to Inacia as she is truly one of the family. It was one of the many times I wished I could have talked to her directly, without a language barrier.

Saturday was a day of mixed feelings, long talks and hugs. We were anticipating our flights home on Sunday but had heavy hearts at leaving this family, this work and now this mess.

Sunday we got up at 3:30 a.m. and arrived at the airport at 5:00 a.m. Before going in, Mark pulled the truck over and stopped to pray and commit our day and trip to the Lord. I felt the effect of that prayer carry us all the way home. We expected this last day to go somewhat smoothly but it quickly began to unravel. We arrived at the TAM counter to check in and were told our reservations had been cancelled. Since it was 5:00 a.m. no one was answering the phone at United, where the flights had been booked through a partner agreement. There was no WIFI so the i-phone didn’t work and the internet café didn’t open until 10:00 a.m. so there was no way to work on this on-line. The pay phones in Brazil do not accept credit cards and do not make international calls. However, there are a couple of special phones that accept international calling cards so we went to purchase one. The lady in the sundries store at the airport patiently explained how to get such a card and ended with the amazing words “at least that is what I would do if the machine was working!” We went back to the airline counter where they tried again to contact United. They said the only thing they could do was sell us the two seats that were available (our own seats) for R$1,700 (at 60% this was over $1,000.) Of course we knew if we did this that we had little chance of recovering the money from United. We looked at each other wondering if we should keep trying or accept this as the Lord’s will that we should not leave that day.

At 6:00 a.m. we woke up Eliel and asked him if he could make international calls. He said he could and would and took down all our flight information. We tried calling him back every ten to fifteen minutes after that and his phone was busy for over an hour. They called us back to the desk at 6:50 a.m. and told us they were closing the flight and there were no other seats to São Paulo that day. We hadn’t heard back from Eliel so we all got back in the truck and headed home. On the drive home we reached Eliel and he delivered the news that he had gotten us on a 2:00 p.m. flight to Brasilia and then a 6:00 p.m. flight to São Paulo and we would be able to connect to our 10:00 p.m. flight to Washington/Dulles.

It is interesting how Eliel accomplished this. He called the “800” number for United in Brazil and chose English thinking he would get more prompt treatment. The recording gave him a “400” number. When he called, the person answering the phone told him, “It is Sunday, go back to bed.” Ah . . . Brazil! Eliel couldn’t believe this, especially since he thought the person should at least have said “It is Sunday, go to church!” He said he asked himself, “what can I do? I will start over.” This time when he chose Portuguese he reached someone and was able to get us other flights.

At noon we were back at the airport and said our tearful goodbyes. The remaining flights were uneventful although all of the connections left us no extra time and we landed in Detroit about 9:00 a.m. on Monday. Heidi and Blake were waiting to take us to my parents’ house so that everyone could see that we were home safely and hear about our trip.

Later that day, back in Natal, Mark, Lori, Caroline and William were called in to the police station to identify the first of three people they picked up as he was caught red-handed when the package was delivered. (An Adidas shirt purchased with my stolen card!) Lori told me they all recognized him without any doubt and signed a statement to that effect. The next day they were asked to identify the second and third suspects and again there was no doubt. Now they wait for the police to do their recovery work and “the rest of the story” will have to come from them when it concludes.

Mark and Lori have given up much and given much to do this work. I have watched them on both visits look to God and depend on Him to direct all of their activities on a daily basis. I also know in my heart that they would willingly have given up all of the possessions that were stolen for God. It is not the loss of possessions that has gripped them, but instead the delays and costs that have hindered God’s work. When they resumed the regular feeding the next week, Lori told me they were met by some with tears saying “we thought you would go back home to America.” They all affirmed that they were where God wanted them to be and they were staying. Please continue to pray for Mark, Lori, Caroline, William and Inacia, especially with increased security concerns, and for all of the work being done for God in and around Natal. There are so many souls to reach.

Lastly I would like to say that we all felt the comfort and support of being lifted up in prayer by many Christian friends and family when news reached home and it is difficult to express how much we felt ourselves carried by those prayers in the days that followed. Thank you.

Note: for more insight on the topic of the street children of Brazil, there is an excellent book Lori showed me titled “A Cry from the Streets” by Jeannette Lukasse. It is available for about $10 at CBD or Amazon.

Thoughts and Prayers

Late Sunday Night, three men broke into the home of Mark and Lori Procopio in Brazil while they were sleeping. They were woken up, and watched as the men stole most of their valuable items, including phones, laptops, and cash. The family is physically fine, but were badly shaken up. Passports for Mark, Caroline, and William were stolen with accompanied belongings. Also taken was the passport belonging to Anna Valance, who is currently visiting Mark and Lori with her aunt Mary Valance.

They covet your prayers for their well-being, their safety, and the continuing work in Brazil. They feel that God must have some big plans for the work there, and Satan is trying his best to discourage them. Pray that all goes well as they attempt to get passports for Mark, Caroline and William, and that Anna can secure a passport in order to travel back to the states.

It has been several weeks since Lori asked me to write a followup entry to my essay. Over the course of those weeks, I have sat down several times with every intention of finishing what I started. However, it was only a matter of minutes before something came up, or I got “writer’s block”. Tonight however, things are different. Circumstances have changed. In light of what has transpired over the past few days, I can only hope that what the Lord has laid on my heart to write will be a comfort and an encouragement to Mark, Lori, Caroline, and William. With that in mind, I am going to break this into two parts: first, I will address everyone else that will read this, and then address the Procopio family.

In addressing everyone else, I want to describe what I saw when I travelled to Brazil with uncle Paul, Stephanie, and Kate. I will tell you that in all the previous times I attempted to write this, I tried to write in-depth, detailed descriptions of nearly every part of the trip. Clearly, that didn’t work. So this time, I’ll cut straight to the chase. I saw two things while I was there. The first thing that I saw there was a need. Mind you, there was plenty of need, and although Mark and Lori have tried to meet those material needs in any way they could, this was the kind of need that only God could meet. The Procopios moved there with a desire to help children on the streets who had nothing and nowhere to go by providing them with a home. Lord willing, they will accomplish their goal of building an orphanage there. However, I believe that there was, and still is, the desire in their hearts to first and foremost present the Savior to these children, and see them saved. After all, what riches could compare to those in Christ, and what better home to have that a Heavenly one?

The second thing I saw there was a family who was willing to give themselves completely to God, and say to Him, “Please use us in any way you see fit to meet the need that there is here.” I have to admit that in my own life, I have fallen terribly short of giving to God all that he deserves of me. I find my mind daily going back to the words of David: “And who then is willing to consecrate his service this day unto the Lord?” So when I see people around me who are willing to give their all to God, I am greatly encouraged by it, and I hope you will be too. Now, I want to address Mark, Lori, Caroline, and William. Yesterday (Monday), when I was shown an email from uncle Paul describing what happened to you, I thought that surely something like that could never happen to someone so close to us. That kind of thing only happened to other people. Then I had to remind myself that, to everyone else on the planet, you are other people. How quickly my mind began to think of what had happened as some terrible mistake, how it was something that never should have happened. And yet, all that thinking changed tonight. As I sat in a quiet circle and listened as one by one, men got up to collectively raise their voices to God in prayer for you and your family, I was reminded in their prayers that this was not a mistake. What happened was all God’s design. I was brought to realize how glad I am that I am not in control of it all. We as humans are weak and fallen creatures, but it is Almighty God who is in control, and what comfort we can take in the fact that he knows the end from the beginning. Through it all, his loving hand was watching over each of you and nothing that happened was outside of His divine will. In those prayers, we were reminded of the words of the hymn writer who said:

He when He sojourned here below,

Poured forth His cries and tears;

And, though exalted, feels afresh What every member bears.

I know that I do not need to tell you this, but we are praying for you. We were also reminded in prayer that, just like Christ feels every burden that you feel now, when one member of His body suffers, the other members feel it too. Which is why the next words of that hymn are so precious:

Then boldly let our faith address His mercy and His power;

We shall obtain delivering grace In each distressing hour.

I believe that it was Chris who reminded us in his prayer for you about several people in the Bible who, although they experienced times of trouble, God had bigger plans. When Joseph was thrown into a pit, sold, falsely accused, and thrown into prison, I am sure he looked around at what happened to him and thought, “This is a mistake! Surely this is not God’s will!” And yet because of his suffering, he was able to deliver his family, and by extension, an entire nation. Perhaps it is His will that your testimony will convict the men who broke into your house of their sin, and will ultimately bring them to Christ. It may be that those around you will, through you, see Christ in the peace and hope that you have. I certainly do not pretend to know God’s will, but I know this, that “…all things work together for good to those who love God.” I am sure that I am not the only one who has been encouraged by your steadfastness and your testimony to God. We are all praying for you. We love you. God bless!

Press forward and fear not! The Billows may roll, But the Power of Jesus Their rage can control: Though waves rise in anger, Their tumult shall cease; One word of His bidding Shall his them to peace.

Press forward and fear not! Though trial be near; The Lord is our refuge, Whom, then, shall we fear? His staff is our comfort, Our safeguard His rod; Then let us be steadfast And trust in our God.

Press forward and fear not! Be strong in the Lord, In the power of His promise, The truth of His word; Through the sea and the desert Our pathway may tend, But He who hath saved us Will save to the end.

Press forward and fear not! We’ll speed on our way; Why should we e’er shrink From our path in dismay? We tread but the way Which our Leader has trod; Then let us press forward, And trust in our God.

How Do I Love Thee

We’re winding down here, before our trip home on Thursday, but today and tomorrow are packed with lists that are Brazil-defying. We have thrown the gauntlet at the Northeastern Brazil culture and are ramping up for another whirlwind of activity today and tomorrow.
Mark and I have been thinking about the blessings that we have seen, in what will be one year’s time on 8 July.
Here are some things for which to give thanks:
1. Cleide and 20 kids flourishing….Spent hours there yesterday making salvation bracelets with the kids-to take to the streets with us tomorrow-and playing,  and singing S.S. choruses! The farm is immaculate, organized…..Pinch me, God is real! A new baby arrived while we were there; 2 days old, no name.
2. Clessio, at the rehab., is now preaching to me. He calls me to quote scripture and tell me what it says in the Bible.
3. The cleaning of the Orphanage-site is starting! The land looks beautiful.
4. The kids on the street truly see God in us and really know it’s love that constrains us. To God only be all the Glory.
5. We have had TWO Sunday night Gospel efforts at the newly remodeled Galpão. The girls estimated 100 people at the second, this past Sunday night! We sang our first hymn with everyone this second week. It was really pathetic; OK, worse than pathetic, but you have to start somewhere! One of the teenage girls who has been in the lessons Steph. and Katie have had for the past month, asked me to study the Bible with her and a group of interested teenage girls!
6. Sunday School lessons have been established on Tuesdays and Fridays at 1:00 p.m. in Aningas. A steady 30 kids have been attending for one month now.
7. You have been so faithful in prayer and support for God’s work here.
To quote Elizabeth Barrett Browning-with God in mind:

“How Do I Love THEE
Let me count the ways….”

They really are innumerable.
We’re sorry that we won’t be able to see many of you during the 2 short weeks that we’ll be home, but we love and appreciate your e-mails and thought, and we covet your prayer.

Mark and Lori
xxoo.

Tables and Benches and Eternal Siblings

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

Brazil Update for 4/24/2010

Someone flipped a switch.

The “on” position referred to rain, and it wasted no time in getting started. March was an incredibly hot month with clear blue skies every day; then April came, and with it, rain. The skies are now filled with clouds, the sun is desperately trying to peak through, and the humidity is hanging like a weight on your shoulders; the heat is oppressive-sapping you of all your energy and strength. The constant wind that we have counted on for comfort is often nowhere to be found and things have become very uncomfortable.

Our house has many openings that are impossible to close off to the outside, so this morning I had to navigate large puddles in attempting to make the breakfast table. William did his usual boing-ing out of bed and running for the stairs like Christmas morning, only to find himself flat out on his back, lying in one of the many indoor lakes. The roads here have no drainage whatsoever so, often the streets are flooded with huge puddles. Last year we were driving small Fiats with very little road clearance. I would drive up to the water’s edge, kick off my shoes, roll up my pant legs, and wade into the center, making sure we could pass before attempting the ocean crossing. Thank God He’s provided us two vehicles that are capable of rough roads as well as water crossings.

What an answer to prayer and another hurdle that God has helped us over: finding us vehicles perfect for the work He’s called us to, here in Brazil. Cars are so expensive here, used vehicles are a real gamble, corrosion is a huge problem because of the ocean air, and the roads are awful, taking their toll on any of the vehicles used around Natal. Some of the speed bumps are so high you’ll hang up and drag if you don’t cross them on the diagonal.

One night, Lori and I were desperately looking online for a car in the Natal area when we saw what looked like a nice little SUV. It was two years old, had low mileage, and was seemingly well-maintained. The contact person’s name was Nildo. When we contacted Nildo, we found out the vehicle was nowhere near Natal, but rather about twenty hours inland in the city of Brasilia. Brasilia is a fairly brand-new city, built to be the capital and pride and joy of Brazil. It is flawlessly designed with perfect roads, no speed bumps, and is far from salt-saturated air. Nildo willingly drove the twenty hours to Natal just so we could look at his truck. As soon as we saw it, we were re-affirmed that God was answering prayer, meeting our needs, and working far outside our pre-conceived boundaries. It was a black truck (Lori’s preferred color) with black leather interior (Lori’s preferred choice) and it was perfect, as if never driven. Nildo was an obvious fanatic-the kind I often made fun of!- but just the guy you’re not making fun of when you need to buy a used car. It was a five week process before the truck was in our possession. At times, it looked as if it might never happen. The constant complications were mind boggling, but she has it now, loves it, and it serves our need perfectly.

I was still in search of a pickup for myself, over and over again coming up empty. The trucks were beat, the mileage high, and the prices out of this world. I found one truck at a dealership and he accepted my offer. When Lori went to transfer funds, he informed her that there was a small lien on the vehicle. “No problem,” he said. “Give me the money, I’ll pay off the lien, and in a few weeks the truck will be yours.”

Hmm. What would you do? We walked away from that deal. Only days later, Nildo called from Brasilia. He had found me a truck. It was perfect, it had low miles, it was the model and color I wanted and thought I would never find, and it was priced considerably less than anything we had been pricing here. It was a close friend of his that was selling. If we were still looking, he said that he would put it on a truck and ship it to Natal for us to inspect. We both thanked God, and agreed to buy the truck on Nildo’s word, sight unseen. I picked it up a week later and it was all he he claimed it was. It’s perfect; it has been meticulously maintained. I’m sure that only since it’s been in my possession, has it ever been used as a truck. We are so thankful that again God has proven to be a kind and reliable master, who provides abundantly for His servants. What a huge blessing to have that behind us, and no longer have to pay ridiculous rental fees that added up to a small fortune over the last eight months.

We bumped the number to five hundred and fifty, because we kept running out. I would close the bin at the second-to-last stop, knowing there wasn’t enough sandwiches to cover the multitude waiting at the last stop.  While we would have been so excited to see God multiply the bread and mozzarella-mortadella, we arrived at the last stop, opened the bin, and realized that God just wanted us to use commonsense and order more.  I wasn’t expecting to open and see a full bin, but every time I reached in I wanted to come up with another sandwich.

Two weeks ago, we arrived at one of our stops to be greeted by a young man who had ridden his bike about fifteen miles from his home, waiting the day at our last stop, hoping to see us. I didn’t recognize him, but immediately Lori knew who he was-Adriano. Clean cut and dressed in nice clothes, he had a big smile on his face. He had come and waited for us-to tell us that God has saved his soul! He was living with his family now, far from the Ponta Negra stop, where he once washed car windows and waited with his buddies for our arrival on Thursdays. He wanted us to know what it was that made God become real to him, made him realize that a new life was possible, and convicted and convinced him of God’s personal love for him: the distance we travelled to bring him the Gospel!

What a thrill it is, to be passing out sandwiches and juice and God’s Word, while seeing fruit from your labor standing right before your eyes. We had the chance to talk with him after the hungry were fed, and you could see on his face the joy that God had now placed deep within his heart. Staying in touch with these kids is very difficult with no means of contact, but he promised to find us, once in a while on Thursdays.

The circus is in town. We saw the big tent being set up when we arrived at our Machadão stop, right in the center of Natal. Surrounding the filthy dirty tent, were twenty little camping trailers, hardly fit as shelter for a pet, and hardly road-worthy. There was one larger wreck-of-a-trailer that I guessed was the communal showers and bathroom because it had a large drain pipe that exited the trailer’s back and dumped into a large hole that had been dug in the ground.

This happy environment was cordoned off with a dilapidated, rust-ridden, steel fence. I imagine that the fence’s purpose was not only to keep non-payers out, but also to keep their acquired attractions in. I went to the fence and yelled for the people to come. I wish I could aptly describe the little faces that came from every corner, lining up along the fence like little prisoners. Their hands reached between the bars, excitedly grasping whatever we gave them. I know your heart, like ours, would have been melted. Filthy, dirty children-boys and girls wearing only underpants that may once have been a color, but now all matched the color of the dirt they were living in. Many of the children were deformed, and their deformities were being used as a means of profit. All their faces showed the hard lives they have already lived, even though the oldest was fifteen. When we asked how long they would be in town, their response was, “As long as people come and pay to see us, we’ll be here.”

It’s been four weeks now, and they’re still entertaining the people of the city. I find comfort in knowing that while they are here, we’ve been able to feed them sandwiches for their hunger, cold juice for their thirst, and-best of all!-tell them the old, old story; the Lord Jesus Christ satisfies both the hunger and the thirst of their precious souls.

Last week we met a young man named Enrique. He was sent to us by a concerned citizen, who had heard about the work that God was doing. He had told him that he could get some food for his starving body, and maybe some help with his life.

Enrique was a professional chef who had once worked in all the big hotels in the city. He was a father, with children and a wife who loved him, but couldn’t take his addiction any longer. He was living under the soccer stadium, sleeping in the dirt, and had had no shower or change of clothes for three weeks. He was begging us for help. We made arrangements to pick him up Friday morning at ten o’clock. If he was serious, and was there when we arrived, then we would take him to the rehab., where he would hear the Gospel and hear that God can help him overcome the sin of drug abuse.

Friday morning I loaded the truck with about eight hundred dollars worth of food, purchased for the rehab, and made my way to Enrique’s stop. He was there waiting, happy to see us, and quick to get in the truck and make the trip to the rehab. You can imagine our disappointment when the admissions person took one look at him, then informed us that this was his third time there. “He comes for clothes, a shower, and a hot meal,” he said. “Then he’s off looking for his next fix.” So, it came as no surprise when we heard he had only lasted the weekend. Once again, he turned his back on God’s offer and chose his life of drugs, filth, and vile sin.

While at the rehab. I asked Clesso if he wanted us to take him home to visit his family, a break he had earned for exemplary behavior. His face lit up, he looked towards his counselor who gave him the nod, then ran off to collect the few belongings he had. While he was gone, they again took the opportunity to tell us about the amazing transformation that God has accomplished in his life, and how wonderful he’d been to all the other men, helping in any way he could, in an effort to put the love of God on display.

He left with us, full of excitement at the thought of seeing the grandmother that he hadn’t seen since checking in at the rehab six months ago, and the rest of his family-some of whom he hadn’t seen in two years.

It was at least two hours of driving due west. We headed well into the interior before arriving at his small, humble village. It was a nice ride, and we saw landscape and lush foliage-so different from the sand dunes we’ve been surrounded with the last nine months.

Everyone was home, all sitting around the front door of the little house, and all eyes followed the truck as we pulled up. This was the most exciting thing they had seen all day, and they had no idea who we were or why we were there. That is, until Clessio jumped out with the huge smile that seems to consume his whole face. Looking back now, I remember yelps of excitement, looks of unbelief, overwhelming joy, and happiness. He ran and threw his arms around his Mom, grandmother, little brother, and sister in-law, and they looked into the eyes of  a transformed son that had come back home to be with his family for Easter.

We dropped him off Friday reminding him as we left that we had promised the rehab to have him back by Monday evening.

The grandmother apologized for the disheveled condition of the house as we returned Monday evening. She explained that Clessio’s brother, who is a husband and father of three, had been drinking all weekend and had wreaked havoc on the home where they all lived. They asked me to pray and it was a bittersweet prayer meeting-filled with thanksgiving for one miracle and begging God for another. We stood in a circle and I prayed for this family as one mother thanked God for sparing her son, and another wife wept outloud, as I asked God to liberate her husband from the power of Satan and save his soul. When I said amen, she slumped to a nearby chair with her face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking, and repeating over and over again, “Please God, only You, please do what only You can do.”

They had all seen the transformation in Clesso and openly acknowledged it as a God miracle. This wife of a troubled husband professes to be saved, but confessed that her faith in God had been shaken by her circumstances. Now, faith had been renewed as she looked at Clessio and was reminded that God still spares lives and saves souls. Please pray for this boy, Cleberson and Clessio’s mother who is not saved, but plainly acknowledges that God spared the life of her son. Clessio happily jumped back in the truck and talked our ears off the whole two hour trip back to the rehab.

Lori and Caroline have been spending a fair bit of time at the orphanage, and the visits have been very encouraging. Cleide has been feeling much better and has been spending her days back with the kids. We dropped by Easter weekend with some candy and small toys for the kids, arriving to find the house unusually quiet. We learned that Cleide had the kids at a special Easter Sunday School service.

The lease is up on the home they are using, and the landlord wants them out; he’s unwilling to renew the lease. Thank God for a temporary home He has provided, a little south of the city. Cleide and Lori went to check out the property and then accompanied two women from the minors judge’s office, who gave their approval for the site. The best thing about it is the huge piece of land that the house sits on. The kids will finally have room to run around and, hopefully, exhaust a bit of the boundless energy they have!

Most likely we’ll all be there to help pack and move the few belongings they have when the moment of moving arrives. Lori’s been helping with pre-moving organization and cleaning, although she’s having flash-backs of our own hectic, whirlwind move of last July!

Now that we have received confirmation that our Permanent Visa is waiting for us in Boston, we will be able to purchase the property that we believe God has chosen for the orphanage. Please make this a fervent matter of prayer as we move forward. We are very aware that destruction will be the result of moving independent of God’s will and purpose.

The women of Aningas are so pleased with the renovation of the Galpão, and it’s exciting to see them in there working every day. There’s an experienced seamstress who has been spending time with the women each day training them on the machines. They presently have six sewing machines that were given to them by a company who has contracted them to sew for them. Five more machines are promised to them, from another vendor who has guaranteed work. The building is quickly becoming a center of activity in Aningas, with mothers working inside, while the kids congregate and play around the outside grounds.

I have four boys from Aningas that are helping me work. We’re still working on the exterior of the building, but soon hope to introduce them to the craft of woodworking, and begin to teach them a trade. I sat them all down one afternoon and explained again why my family was working in their village. I gave them a simple Gospel message and told them to expect this every week. Please pray for them; they all seem very receptive to a message that they seemingly had never heard before. Vaughn is in his late twenties, married, and a dad of four children, all sick with respiratory problems. Paulo is about seventeen, a great worker who is eager to learn. Leandro, 17, is the boy who lost his eyesight suddenly, so we took him into Natal for treatment… Nego is his younger brother. They were both orphaned as children when they lost their parents to alcohol abuse.  Nildete took Nego in and raised him as her own. Others in the community stepped forward to raise the other children, who are grown up now.

Leandro lives with his older sister who has no husband, but three children. She depends on Leandro to support them all.

Teaching them will be very difficult, seeing that presently they know nothing, and seem to be afraid of almost anything that plugs in. Pray that while getting involved in the project of teaching them we never lose sight of the motive: their spiritual need and the well-being of their souls, as well as the souls of their families.

Many of you have heard me talk about Eliel, whom we’ve known since our first trip here in 2007. He and his family have become good friends to us, and many times have been a great help to our family. Eliel teaches English in Natal and he offered to spend time with me and help me with the Portugues language. I took him up on his offer and pick him up every Tuesday morning. He spends the day with me in Aningas, and I deliver him back home at night. This way, I can be close to the boys, while committing the day to studying the language. What a blessing it is to have this gifted language professor available to work with me at my convenience, teaching me what I so desperately need to communicate God’s message to the lost!

We’re all doing great and the weeks fly by with so many things to occupy our time. The kids are doing very well at school. I  believe that this report will bring everyone up to date on what’s going on here in Natal, Brazil.

We continue to ask for, and covet, the prayers of the saints as we take the daily steps that God lays out on our pathway. We can look back over the last nine months and see God acting as only He can-flawlessly!-and it gives us the confidence to move forward knowing that, right now, we are exactly where God wants us to be. That assurance causes us great joy and a true spirit of thankfulness.

Good night, and good bye, for now.

With Christian love Mark, Lori, Caroline, William.

March 16, 2010 – Update

Twenty-six zebras in all, if I did the math correctly.

They make up the border of a beach towel, hanging on a towel rack across from a seat I had been occupying for some time. At first I was guessing, but then I realized that there was an accurate way to come up with the correct number. By making sure the towel was hanging exactly at the halfway mark, I could count one side and double the number. Once I had that figured out I moved on to the zebras’ stripes. I was on zebra number two when I realized that they were all the same, and simple math could help me arrive at that number as well. Funny the things you occupy yourself with when you have to sit in one spot for a long time. Like the old man sitting by his barn on an Byfield country road, counting how many s’s are in: “The blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son cleanses us from all sin” – (only some of you will get the example). In this case it was a towel with zebras. Lori was sick on Thursday day and I bragged to myself that I was immune and it would have to move on. I felt its effect coming on Saturday morning and by nightfall it had the best of both Caroline and myself. I never understood why people bring magazines in with them, I for one preferred the leather couch in our basement when I had a new magazine to peruse. By Sunday night I was hoping that my stay in the tiled room was finally over and I could move on to another chair in the house.  


I picked up the computer last night, thinking I would get started with the update, but that’s as far as I got. I woke at five-thirty this morning and came downstairs to take advantage of this quiet time and get started. Many busy weeks have come and gone with no update, and for that I’m sorry. Honestly, there wasn’t much to report. I’ve been busy with construction on the Galpão every day (boring info), and Lori has been running around doing everything else (also boring info).

Dad and Mom left last week after a five week stay, and their time here passed like a flash. If I were asked to document the events of those five weeks I think I would be at a loss. I have never experienced time go by so fast as it does living here in Natal. We thoroughly enjoyed their being here, and for the most part Dad was game to hang with me, doing what ever I had planned for the day. Thursdays were the highlight of his week, and he loved coming to feed the street kids. I think he would come having challenged himself to see how many gospel papers he could pass out in a day, and each week was better than the last. On one occasion one of our street girls asked him for the package of tracks he was holding, and I could see he was reluctant to give it up. I told him that she was asking because she would be willing to help pass them out. Even with that information he still was slow to give them up, wanting, I think, to be the one putting them in the people’s hands.

I’m sure Inacia enjoyed Mom being around, because she insisted on helping with the daily chores around the house. She would often go out with Lori and return telling us how impossible it is to get anything done around here. How antiquated, backward, and inefficient, the systems are, and how desperately they all need improving. We were finally able to finalize the purchase of a car. That process took more than FIVE weeks, from the time we saw the car till the money was transfered into the seller’s account. You can either get very frustrated, or you can laugh and do your best to roll with it. Laughing and rolling means a longer life.

We lost a whole week because of Carnival-the mother of all Mardi Gras, whose main festival is in Rio de Janeiro, but is echoed in some way throughout the entire country. Christians advised us to lock ourselves in our house for the week, telling us that it’s the safest thing to do. The country shuts down, everyone empties onto the beach, the  cops look the other way, the booze flows freely, the music is loud, inhabitations are discarded, and people do as they please. I planned projects around the house and was able to stay put for a few days, but soon found myself venturing out to see what was really going on. I drove into the city and was shocked at the emptiness and absolute feeling of lifelessness all around me. Like a deadly virus had wiped out humanity and I alone was left to record the events. There was hardly a car moving or a soul walking the streets. All the businesses were closed, all the traffic lights were blinking; the message came across clearly-do what you want, nobody’s here. I stood on a sidewalk where normally you would be over run by the crowd and called “hello” to see if it would echo off the buildings. Just imagine Boston without a soul walking the streets. The beaches, however, were standing-room-only, and the beat from the music could be felt through the seat of my truck. The people were many, the music loud, but it all died about midnight when everyone crashed for the night, so we were able to always get a night’s rest.

The doctors are on strike here in the public hospitals, and Nildete’s dad just had a stroke. Lori called her the other day to see if she wanted to take him for a test he needed, to a private hospital.

“I don’t think its necessary, he’s been improving daily since you and Mark visited him,” she said. He had lost all motor skills in his right side, as well as the ability to talk. His children were caring for him the best they could, but the care he needed would come from a profession that had chosen to no longer work. We found him laying in a hammock, the family all standing around doing their best to translate his garble, we all held hands and I prayed while Lori translated. I asked that God would make himself real to all present, by healing this man and returning him to his family. It was the end of a bad day, and I was frustrated beyond the beyond with everything I had planned for the day, and week, falling apart. The day’s events had brought the tears up and they were right behind my eyes, it didn’t take much for them to flow freely. All week, no one did what they said they would do, nothing happened the way it was supposed to. Everyone I hired wanted the money but didn’t want to perform the services they were hired for. After eight months of this, once again I felt spent and ready to quit. When Lori suggested we make the trip to visit Nildete’s dad, I went along having nothing else to do.

Lori and I climbed in the truck along with Nildete, her sister, and some folks from Aningas, and we drove an hour north up the coast arriving at a small fishing village called Zumbi, where Nildete was born. Her Dad seemed happy to see us. We couldn’t understand a word he was saying, but the family told us he had been asking to see us. I was not in the right frame of mind or spirit, and was reluctant when Lori suggested my praying for dad and the family. It was a prayer full of questioning and doubt. It lacked faith to say the least, and I felt my request selfish and hypocritical, convinced I had gone through the motions, and expecting no response. Regardless, I commended this man and his family to God, asking for a miracle.

“Is this the victory you often speak about, Lori?” Nildete asked.

“Victory how”? Lori asked.

“Well, since you were there, and Mark prayed for Dad, he’s up walking around and can speak again.”

God is real and able to do what is impossible. He’ll go to great lengths to make himself visible, tolerating the faithlessness of his sent servants, and longing for a heart that openly welcomes him in.

“Yes,” Lori said. “This is victory, Nildete. Make sure your family knows that this was all God, responding because He loves them all. He has chosen to show His power so that they might believe and believing have life eternal. He longs to claim them as his own.”

There are so many kids living on the street and we cross paths with them every Thursday. Every one of them will tell you stories that will break your heart, but amidst all the pain of so many faces, there are times when individuals stand out and grab your heart in a special and compelling way. That was the case a few weeks ago when we arrived at our last stop.

I had never seen them before, Savanna was about twelve years old, her brother about eight, their cousin about ten-all desperately needing a bath and some serious attention-as well as starving for food and any form of affection.  I didn’t notice them at first with so many people crowded around the back of the truck. But soon the majority were satisfied and moved on to their post back on the street, leaving these three still hanging around the truck. The little guy asked for money, so I gave him the pocket change I was carrying. I asked where they lived, and they pointed to some torn plastic bags filled with personal belongings piled under a tree. I looked towards Jefferson, who has become a reliable friend on the street, and he nodded his head, confirming that in fact that was their house. I found it so hard to leave them that day, and wanted so much to put them in the truck and take them home.  I gave the boys a hug, put ten dollars in Savanna’s hand, took her face in my hands, telling her to use the money to take care of herself and the boys. I promised to be back next week, God Willing, with some clothes for them. I prayed as I left, asking that God would watch over them for another week. I followed through on my promise making sure to bring each something new to wear, gathered from the donations brought from home. I saw them several times after that and then they disappeared. This happens so often. Where the children go I have no idea, but they move on to another spot and often we never see them again.

Pray for that little family that God allows us to cross paths with them again. What a privilege to be able to show them the love of God. Pray, too, that the Father of the fatherless will soon make provision for His servants to gather these little lambs to a home where they will daily hear His precious Word, experience His life-changing power in salvation, and become set-apart lives for Him.

Finding reliable tradespeople to work for you here is just about impossible. They want your money and will do whatever is necessary to get it. Give them money up front and you’re likely never to see them again. I had an electrician tell me the other day that he couldn’t come look at my project unless I was willing to pay for his gas. When I agreed to that he was willing to come. Once there he informed me that fifty dollars a day for food and gas would be expected in addition to the cost of his services. I looked at Vaughn, my Brazilian confidant, who confirmed this request by nodding in agreement, as if this is the way things are done in this country. He got one gas payment out of me and then was told we would be consulting others. I ordered a custom roll up garage door for the Galpão so we could receive and deliver materials. He asked for a deposit so he could purchase the materials needed to fabricate the door. I made an exception and gave him half. He lied, flat out lied. He didn’t make up any stories, but told us, every time that we called, that he was on his way and the call was unnecessary. Weeks of this have gone by and I don’t know if I’ll ever see my door. (fool me once)

Lori made a trip to orphanage last week with Dad and Mom. She called ahead, got a shopping list, shopped, and delivered the food that was needed. Cleide was nowhere to be found. We’re not sure what’s going on, but we’re continuing to wait on God for direction regarding that situation. There are many things that at the moment we’re clueless about. We are learning that while we may spend time wondering whether something indicates a “yes” from God,  the “noes” are always loud and clear. We are kind of like bumper cars, bumping into a “no” we try another way-every time we look back, it becomes very clear that the bumps and trials are helping us to let go of our plans and our will. Pray with us, for us, that God makes the next step extremely clear so we can move forward with confidence and according to His will.

Bruno has once again decided that he’s well enough, and has left the rehab. We heard he’s at his Dad’s, but he has not reached out to us yet, so we’re not clear on his present condition. Clesseo is the one boy who has stuck it out showing real promise. The director says he’s a real joy to have around, and a great influence on the other men. I’ve a load of food sitting at the house waiting to be delivered, so will soon need to make a trip back to see how all are doing there.

I arrived in Aningas Friday morning with hopes of a productive day working on the Galpão. We just about have the building ready to put the woman to work sewing, though some have come every day and tried working in our mess. The men are also eager to be a part of the woodworking shop, that God willing will be in operation soon. Working there every day has allowed me to grow close with many of the folks and I’ve begun building relationships that I pray God will work through. My plan for this particular Friday was to cut a large pass-through in cement block wall, combining two of the rooms into one. My 10″ grinder spits an unbelievable amount of dirt and dust at me and it wasn’t long before I was unrecognizable, covered from head to foot in powdered cement. I was just settling into the day’s project when I was told that my services were needed elsewhere.

One of the few cars of Aningas had ventured out that morning and died about six miles down a dirt road leading to nowhere.  I put the grinder down, grabbed my oversized ratchet straps to use as a tow rope, and asked where I might find these folks. I jumped in my truck, filthy dirty, and became a tow truck driver, heading down a country path, looking for a poor excuse for a car.  They had abandoned the car and were taking shade under a large tree when William and I arrived. Some time later we finally arrived back in Aningas with them in tow. I picked up my grinder and went back to work hoping to finish what I had started. I wasn’t long at it, when again I was told my services were of more value elsewhere. I went to the door to see a couple standing there. The mom was holding an unresponsive three-year-old in her arms, and they were asking to be rushed to the city hospital.

“Urgencia?” I asked.

“Sim!” (yes) they said.

“Rapido?” I asked.

“Muito rapido!” (very fast) they said.

Covered in cement and hardly able to see through my goggles, I put the grinder down again and this time I became an ambulance driver.
My heel was grinding the throttle into the floor boards as my little truck gave me all it had. I laid on the horn, my four-ways and headlights were flashing, and I played ambulance, making the hour and twenty minute trip in about forty minutes. If it wasn’t for the sick child I would have been having fun weaving through city traffic.

Once in the city I asked which hospital they wanted and they informed me, with a petrified look on their faces, that I had passed it a half hour ago. I wheeled them into a private children’s hospital that we had used in the past, rushed them in, and announced to all in the waiting room that I needed help. I must have been quite a sight, matted with the filth spit at me from the grinder, but they took me serious. One nurse took the child and another ran off looking for help with the language. They ushered me into an office and interrupted a doctor in the middle of a consultation. He was very kind, excusing himself and turning his attention to my need. He didn’t speak much english, but it was enough for me to make my case. One hundred and ten dollars later and the little boy was treated and released, awake, happy, and being a normal little boy. I asked if they wanted a fast ride home and they both begged that I drive home slowly. I found out later that they had seldom ridden in a car and my ride scared the life out of them! I still haven’t found out what the child’s problem was, but he’s doing just great!

What a very simple and practical way to show who God is, and how quickly a connection and relationship began as a result of the day’s events. How easy to reach them with the Gospel when God through circumstances has won their heart. Please pray that God continues to create situations that allow us to show these poor folks who God is, and the wonder of His love. I never finished my pass through that day, God had other plans. The work will get done in His time; the connections made that day were priceless. I do believe that this is God’s method and am thrilled that He has allowed my family to instrumentally be used in reaching the lost this way. I often think of the extreme example the Saviour gave-to those self-righteous hypocrites who interrogated Him, about who the neighbor was that they were instructed to love as themselves. That’s how far God expects us to go in showing his love to the lost. That Samaritan spared no expense and made every sacrifice he could possibly make to help the injured man. He wasn’t a Jew and he wasn’t his enemy. In the eyes of this Samaritan, he was just a lost, helpless soul who, without help would soon perish. The compassionate heart of this Samaritan made, crossing on the other side of the road and avoiding the injured man, not an option.

I have come to realize that the Gospel is more than a message. It’s a work, it’s an investment, it’s a sacrifice of things and time. When the work has been done and the heart has been won, then the ears will be opened and the message will accomplish its purposes. The Saviour chose the people where this work could be done: the poor, the sick, the needy folks-those were company the Savoiur chose to keep. The work done and The Word preached, both working in harmony, will produce results. It’s God’s chosen method, and when separated the Gospel becomes handicapped.

William and I left early this morning. We were enlisted to help Eliel and Eliane move. I smiled to myself driving into the Planalto, remembering a bumper sticker that often amused me at home-“Yes, this is my truck. No, I won’t help you move.” Once the trucks were loaded, we made our way towards Zona Norte, and the location of their new home. To get there you have to cross over a river which leaves little choice as to the route. For one hour I sat in dead-stopped bumper-to-bumper traffic, wondering what could possibly be causing the hold up. Imagine this scenario, if you can: The Commonwealth of Massachusetts determining that Route 93 needs resurfacing and choosing a Tuesday afternoon at four o’clock to pave the Northbound side in Cambridge, cutting the four lanes to barely one. I’m saying barely one because when I finally reached the cause of the tie up, I almost took off my driver’s side mirror on the paving machine.

This is the country of Brazil and the tolerant mentality of a people who just roll with, what seems so often to me, plain foolishness. I think for the moment you’re all up to date with the events of the past few weeks.

We may be making the trip home soon, Lord Willing, to collect our Permanent Visa, which must be picked up at the Brazilian consulate in Boston. Till then, we continue to ask for your prayer and to tell you how encouraged we always are, to hear of your continued interest in the work God has done, and is continuing to accomplish, here in the northeast of Brazil.

Again we’ll say goodbye with love in Christ,

Mark, Lori, Caroline and William

January 25, 2010

Hi Everyone!
It’s been a while since I punched these keys, in an attempt to update you all on what God is doing here in Natal. I was quick to take advantage of the young people who came to help us in the work here, knowing that you all would enjoy hearing from them, as they described from their perspective, God’s work that they were exposed to in Natal. Unfortunately, they have all returned home, so once again it’s up to me to keep you all posted. Lori’s folks have arrived safely, and will spend some time with us. We were all so happy to see them, and the kids were thrilled to, once again, be with Papa and Nona.
It’s Monday morning and Lori and I are about to go out looking for one of the street kids, who asked last week if we would take him off the street, and give him an opportunity at the drug rehab. Before leaving I will attempt to at least get started on the past week’s events.
His name is Rafael. Our first exposure to this boy came in the form of a street fight. Rafael and Dennis were both rolling in the middle of a busy intersection, so I jumped in to break them up. I pushed one boy across the street and back to his window washing post. Rafael was pointed in the direction of our car, and as he approached the car, saw Lori and Caroline crying. He felt so bad that he had caused them to be so upset, and attempted to comfort them. “You scared us and broke our heart” Lori said, “and if we were heartbroken, imagine how the Saviour felt.” He left that day very bothered, and God spoke to him in a way that shook him to realize how desperate his life of drugs had become. “I live in an abandoned building with no electricity or water,” he said. “So, I spend the evenings reading the papers you leave each week by the light of a street lamp.”
He told us that as a result of the message contained in those papers, and the kindness we have shown to him, God convicted him and he asked Jesus into his heart. Pray for Rafael, that his words are sincere, and that in fact God has reached his heart. Pray that his rehab experience will be the beginning of a God transformed life. Would it not be awesome if he were used by God to reach his peers caught in Satan’s snares.
The rehab called us a week ago last Sunday to inform us that Bruno had checked himself out, determined that he was healed and had no need to stay in the program. He still had three months left, but pride and a rebellious spirit caused him to leave. We didn’t pursue him, but heard that he had gone to his Dad’s house in the Planalto. This Friday, we got a call from his stepmom saying that he had to return to the rehab, and could no longer stay at the house. We drove the hour trip through the city and arrived at his father’s house. We were ushered into a very humble home, and invited to sit around the kitchen table. His Dad poured his heart out as he told us that Bruno needed to go back where he would be under the influence of God’s power. “He can’t stay here, he’s not able to do this on his own, I can’t help him, his only hope of survival is God, please take him, he has to go back.”
For three hours we sought to reach him with the gospel. Again we explained why we had sought to help him. I said, “Bruno, we didn’t come to Brazil to get kids off drugs, we came to introduce you to the Lord Jesus Christ. You’re at a crossroads tonight and you will make a choice. Choose God and He’ll possess you, giving you the strength needed to defeat Satan and the addiction you battle. Choose your own way, and we can’t help you. We’ll commend you to God and go home. You have no hope without God, and you will fall to Satan’s power. The day will come when we hear that the police have gathered your remains off the street, and as your family grieves, you’ll begin your first day in eternity”.
His Dad was supporting our no-nonsense appeal, so Lori turned to ask if he was a child of God. You could imagine our surprise as he told us how God had reach and saved his soul. He told us that his mom was a Christian, and he was raised to hear the gospel, and as a young man he trusted Jesus as his Saviour.
It was a very proud boy that we returned to the rehab, who only went because he had no place else to go. We don’t believe that this boy is saved, and would ask that you pray that God breaks his spirit and saves his soul. I had visited the food warehouse that afternoon, and had filled the back of our rented truck with food for the pantry in Aningas, as well as food for the rehab. We arrived and I called, some of the boys standing around, to unload the truck, as Lori and I went inside to plead Bruno’s case. They told us that they had over seventy boys there and only a few of those were able to pay their way. They had promised God that they would never turn anyone away, who came to them for help. Food supplies were getting low this week, and nothing was coming in. While we were there, the cook came in the office to say that after supper had been served, and the boys had been fed, all the food was gone, and there was nothing for the next day. And then, we had arrived. They told us that they have had this happen so many times before, but they never get used to the ways by which God provides for those who seek to serve Him. They thanked us for being willing to let God use us.
The holidays were such a busy time that we never had a chance to go through our belongings and unpack the things we could use. Leaving the goods in cardboard boxes means exposing them to severe moisture and mold. There is so much moisture in the air that every morning I wipe up a puddle of water sitting at the base of our bedroom fan ( no AC here). I cleaned out three stores-of the plastic tubs with locking lids-so we could store the stuff not being used, and protect it from the extreme humidity. I took one whole wall of our car port and built cubbies that would accommodate the tubs so they could be neatly stored and protected.
I have a primitive wood shop in Aningas where I’ve been building whatever is needed, so I headed up there to build my shelf units. On the way I stopped and picked up ten bags of cement. The purchase was for a family in the village who had severe health issues. Nildete was walking with us one day, as Lori carried her little medical box, and we visited door to door. Nildete is employed by the government as their health official in the village. Her job is to visit each home and report their needs back to her superiors. Nothing comes of this, except for the fact that she has her finger on the pulse of the town folks. She took us to a home made up of Dad, Mom, and five children, all of whom have severe respiratory problems. She picked up the baby and held him close to us so we could hear his labored breathing. She explained that this is caused by living in a house that has dirt for a floor. The fix is simple, but they don’t have the resources, so they live with this condition. I thought how wrong and unfair this is, how unbalanced and upside down our world is, that a family should have to suffer for years when $120.00 American dollars, a quick stop, and a willingness to add this to the day’s agenda, and this family could be healthy again.
Pretty much all of the donated clothes sent by those who gave to the work here have been given out. We went through all the boxes and categorized the clothes and shoes by age groups. We supplied the orphanage, took clothes to the kids on the street, and brought a truck load into the village. It’s funny seeing the kids walking around with crocs, because no one else has them here. We showed up one day in the village and picked up Nildete, who took us to the families who were in dire need. Word quickly traveled through the village that we were there, and soon the truck bed was mobbed with people wanting what they really didn’t need.
Nildete closed up the boxes and said, “Let’s go, this is getting out of hand and the people who need this are not going to get it.” We took the clothes to the Galpão (the building we have been allowed to use) and locked everything inside. She let some time pass and allowed the town to settle down. Then, she invited one family in at a time to go through and pick out what they could use. Everybody wants everything you have, and will take it whether they need it or not. It’s been an active learning experience on how to work with extremely poor people. Please pray that God teaches us how to handle what He gives us and gives us wisdom and fairness, so that our effectiveness is not thwarted or our testimony stifled.
The street work in the city is a constant encouragement, as the numbers grow and the kids, who are reluctant to trust anyone, are beginning to really believe we care. It’s been six months of being out there every week. At first, they doubted us and wondered what our alternative motive was; now they are accepting us as servants of God and God only. In addition to feeding them each week, Lori carries her medical box and treats cuts, infections, skin rashes, tooth aches, and last week infected stab wounds on a boy brought to her who had been fighting.
God has handled all the hurdles that have stood between us and being able to stay here. The latest was opening a bank account. It took three banks, six months and an unbelievable list of required documents to prove that we didn’t come just to launder money (a real problem among those moving to Brazil). The bank account was a government requirement in order to receive a permanent visa. Also, it’s necessary for transferring moneys from the US to us here. Thank God, finally this has been accomplished. Also, we heard today that our visa application is progressing quickly and were given a link to track its progress online. When the lawyers and accountant originally explained the list of requirements for a visa, I remember being overwhelmed and wanting to quit, but we have watched God take on each requirement, one by one, and now the visa is all that’s left to be resolved.
I’ll end now thanking you all again for your support and faithfulness in prayer before the Father. We would like to be an encouragement to you all by assuring you that God is listening and answering, and wonderful things continue to develop, before our very eyes, as God works in a mighty way among souls here in the north of Brazil.
I’ll say bye for now with much Love in Christ,
Mark, Lori, Caroline, William, Dad and Mom.

 

December 29, 2009 – Mike and Shelby Procopio

I was not pleased as we made our way back to the airport. It seemed as if we had just come from there, and I have no idea where the two weeks went that were in between. But like it or not, the time came for Mike and Shelby to return back home. We were thrilled to have had their help, as they labored beside us in God’s work. There was so much to do leading up to the Christmas holiday, and we so appreciated all the help that they offered. Before leaving they both agreed to write one more update which I’m forwarding to all my family at home.
In addition to all the work you will read about in their report below, there are a few extra things that you should know about. Thanks to all of you at home who so generously gave clothing and toys and shoes, we were able to sort through the boxes of things that had arrived the week before, and put together three gifts for each of the children at the orphanage. We have a list of each child and their age, and with that list we worked late into Monday night going through the boxes of donations. We found suitable gifts for each child, wrapped each gift, and tagged them with the children’s names.
We delivered the gifts to the orphanage, along with turkey and all the fixings for a Christmas feast (their dessert of choice was ice cream). We were also able to deliver turkeys, along with the fixings, to the rehab, so they would have a Christmas dinner.
We also took two large boxes of clothing and shoes with us on the street Tuesday, and distributed them to many of the kids whom we work with weekly.
I will now turn you over to Mike and Shelby wishing you all a Happy New Year full of God’s Blessings. As we come to the close of 2009, I can not begin to list the blessings that God has lavishly poured out on me and my family this past year. Having given it thought, I borrow the words of another and exclaim that once again I am surprised at what the Lord has done. When I think of the blessing that a child often enjoys simply because of the family they were born into, I honestly bow before my awesome God and with a full heart say over and over again, “Thank you Father for making me your child!”
From my family to yours with love in Christ,
Mark, Lori, Caroline and William.
————–
Hi Everyone!
Well this starts my last update – we were so thankful to be able to be with Mark and Lori and the kids for 2 weeks – it was a tremendous experience, and we returned home more convicted than ever that God is working in a tremendous way in the North of Brazil, and we are excited to not only have been able to go down and be a part of it, but to be able be a part of it from home as well.
I was reminded again this week of David’s men after they went up against the Amalekites after they burned Ziklag – when they returned with the spoils, some of the men wanted to hoard it, and distribute it only among the warriors who had gone down to the battle, and give nothing to those that had faithfully remained behind with “the stuff”. David’s response however gives us a beautiful picture of the heart of God, when he tells his men that “those who went down to battle, and those that remained with the stuff…they shall partake alike”. Not all of us can be out in the mission fields full time – for whatever reasons – but God views us as equal partners in this work, had given us a tremendous privilege and an awesome responsibility at home to faithfully support those that are at the point of the spear, and to throw ourselves whole-heartedly into his work, to the furtherance of the gospel and his purposes in these mission fields.
In the middle of the night on Sunday (or really, Monday morning) Alex Lawson and Lydia Perkins arrived at the airport in Natal – thats one thing i learned about Brazilian airports/airlines – they go 24hrs… no big deal to have a flight land or takeoff at 2 or 3 in the morning….UGH! But it was exciting to see them, and we were really excited that out trips overlapped by a week, so we could not only spend time together, but so that we could share with them what we had seen and done the previous week.
Monday morning started out with the fantastic news that Levi, the addict who we had dropped off at the rehab center on Thursday evening had gotten saved. While this was great news, it actually presented a bit of a problem for the rehab facility, although it all worked out. Levi was so excited about getting saved that he immediately wanted to leave the rehab for a day, so that he could share the gospel with his family – he was very conscious of the fact that he was to be in rehab for 9 months, and if something happened to his girlfriend or children during that time, they would never have a chance to hear the good news of the gospel. Finally the rehab director decided that Levi could go for a day to see his family and tell them about salvation, but he had to return the next day, which he did. Another tangible result of God’s work among these street kids for which we were tremendously thankful, and which was a direct answer to prayer for this young man. Please pray that he will be given the strength needed as he continues his rehab, and that he will begin to grow as a Christian. Also remember his girlfriend and children, that having seen the change in his life and having heard from him the gospel, that they will see the reality of salvation, and be convicted of their need as well.
Monday was spent preparing for the next day’s meal. With the number of “events” that we were juggling around the holiday, the meal for the street kids was moved to Tuesday, as Thursday was to be the dinner in Aningas. The difference this week was that we did a hot meal for the kids, and they were all to receive a bible with the meal. Most of the day was spent getting the food, and picking up the bibles from the christian book store – more on this later.
Tuesday started early with cooking what had to be finished for the street meal, and setting up the cars for the day. Since it wasn’t sandwich’s it was going to be a little more complicated to distribute, but we finally got it all squared away and were ready to go. We had the juice station all set-up in the back of the one remaining Amazing Fiat, and the food, bibles and clothes in the back of the pickup. We had picked up 1000 bibles the day before, so with those loaded in as well, we set off for the day around 11:30. It went very well throughout the day – since it was a hot meal, the kids sat down to eat and listen to the gospel message. Natal is very Christmas oriented, as Natal actually means “Christmas” – however in all the statues of wise-men and nativity scenes throughout the city, it all seems to focus on just the fact that “Christ was Born” – so in the gospel we tried to link what they knew of Jesus as the “Christmas Baby”, to the fact that he actually came as their Savior, and went to the cross for their sins!
It took all day for the food distribution over the stops, and by the time we got to the last stop we were as tired as we could possibly be! At the last stop, William and I gave out over 900 bibles. The thirst for the word of God is incredible, and to meet it will require God’s hand in providing the resources. The Portuguese bibles we were distributing cost R$5.50, or about $3.50 US each, so the resources that are needed to simply purchase and distribute bibles is enormous. One young man walked over to us from an appliance store and asked if he could have one – we gave him one, and he walked back over to the store, sat down and began to read it right there – as soon as his co workers saw it they all wanted bibles, and came over in pairs, to politely ask if they too could have a free bible! Even the few people who initially refused a bible, came back within minutes and got them – they had thought there was some sort of a “catch”, and just couldn’t fathom that it really was a free bible! This speaks volumes to the mindset that is so ingrained here – the church is out to extract from you, never to give you something for free – so the concept of a God that does not want anything from them, is totally foreign, and very sad. Pray that God blesses and uses bibles that were distributed – we know he will, as he has guaranteed that “it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper”, but your prayers are needed nonetheless.
Wednesday we spent preparing for the dinner in Aningas the following day. While the girls went to the wholesale food distributor to pick up the remaining supplies, Mark, William, Alex and I headed up to Aningas to buy the supplies and build a massive charcoal grill to cook the meat on. The primary building staple here is this odd-little fired-clay block-like thing. It’s not really a brick, and not really a cement block, but they build everything out of it. They are not very strong – i figure that if a crow built up a good head of steam he could blast right through a wall – but it works, so we loaded up 300 of them and brought them all into the back courtyard of the school where we built a big grill to cook on. With that all ready for the next day, we headed over to measure the land that is under agreement for the orphanage.
The site that is being considered is about 1/2 mile from the center of Aningas, right next to a little village called Santa Fe. It’s 7 acres, and has almost unlimited expansion possibilities, as all the land around it is also available. It’s has a road on it’s front side that goes to Aningas and to the BR-101, the main highway, as well as a road on the back boundary of the land that also goes direct to the BR-101. It’s in an excellent location, and we needed to get some accurate measurements so that we can start getting some of the conceptual construction drawings done.
Thursday was the dinner in Aningas, and as usual, we had to make one final supply run before going up to the village. We pulled into Aningas around lunchtime and they were already busy with getting the meal going. The 2 cows that had been bought and butchered yielded about 500 pounds of beef, which along with some sausages, was the main course. It was served with rice, and beans, and a variety of soda, and was, for obvious reasons, a big hit. We figure just under 2000 were fed, with some sticking around for conversations, and some heading off to home.
Friday was a low-key day spent around the house for Christmas. With Mark & Lori’s family, Alex and Lydia, and us it was alot of fun, and it was nice to be able to relax a little before heading home in the wee-hours of the morning on Saturday.
We made it home in about 22-hours door to door – considerably better than the 31hrs going down – although there were 4 connections, which just makes for a brutally tiring trip! We’re home safe and sound, and very thankful for the opportunity we had to go and help with this work, and to see the progress and the blessing that is being seen. God’s evident working was a tremendous encouragement to us, and we hope that even through these updates, others will be encouraged, and be able to feel apart of the work in Brazil.
Lots of Love,
Mike and Shelby

November 11, 2009

Hi Everyone!
It’s Sunday afternoon, an absolutely perfect day, and I’m sitting looking out over our back yard. When I look to the right, I see the rock reef, which tells me it’s low tide; looking to the left I can watch the waves roll in, waves large enough to surf on. Whenever I view my surroundings, I’m so thankful to God for the little city of refuge He gave us to come home to every night. It even has walls around it with someone at the gate who has to agree before you get in.
Last Sunday was visit day at the rehab. center, and the boys asked if we would be coming to see them. As hard as it was to leave the refuge, we did make a point of getting there before visiting hours were over. They are both doing great and both have professed to be saved. I think, in their case, the fruits of salvation will be very obvious. There has been such a transformation in Bruno’s life, that the head of the rehab. asked that he give his testimony to a large group of people in the city. The rehab called to tell us about this event on Friday afternoon. They told us that it’s a privilege that only a few are given the opportunity to participate in. You earn this privilege by your behavior and the tangible evidences of salvation that the counselors see on a day to day basis. They asked us to bring some pictures of Bruno when we first met him on the street, (you would hardly recognize him as the same person) and a testimonial from us in the form of a letter that they would read to the audience before he spoke. They also asked that we bring a few candy treats as a gift to present to him afterwords. So, on Saturday, we went to the rehab., bringing the letter to Bruno that we had written and some chocolates for Bruno, for after he gave his testimony. (Seemed kind of like a Sunday School treat!)
While visiting the rehab., last Sunday night, Clessio had given us a letter that he had written to his family. He asked that we deliver it to his grandmother, Valmira. So, on Wednesday Lori and I went to find her little apartment and deliver this precious cargo. We found her with her daughter ( Clessio’s aunt) and both were so happy to see us. Once again, we found ourselves back, sitting at the same kitchen table, but this time the conversation was so different. As we spoke of Clessio and his progress, there was a constant smile on Valmira’s face. Over and over again she thanked God and gave Him the glory. I pulled the letter out that I had folded and tucked in my wallet. She handed it to her daughter and we all listened as the aunt began to read. To our surprise it was the boy’s testimony. He spoke of how Bruno and the counselors introduced him to Jesus. How he realized, for the first time, that only God could help him. He understood God’s tremendous love, in offering His Son so that help could be available to him personally. He told how he had confessed his sin, his helplessness, and asked Jesus into his heart. He spoke of how he now had God with him, and because of that he was going to overcome his addiction. He wanted very much to be the one who would reach out to his lost buddies on the street. He asked his grandmother to forgive him. He spoke to his whole family asking for their forgiveness also. He thanked God for bringing us into his life, realizing how far God went just to reach his lost soul. I was sitting across from the aunt, and could see that she was having a very difficult time reading the letter, at times she had to stop and collect her composure before going on. I believe that I witnessed, for the first time, from the same person, the great contrast between tears of heartache and tears of joy. They flowed freely down the grandmother’s cheeks as she listened to words she had been waiting all her life to hear. What a difference from the last time we sat at this table, watching Satan battle with the power of God for the rights to this precious soul. I left that little home convinced that there could be no experience on earth to rival being a part of what we just saw. I told God that if these experiences were all that make up the balance of what’s left of my life on earth, than I will leave this world a content man.
As we drove from the house, we passed Clessio’s old stomping grounds. While waiting at the light we were accosted by a young man who had seen us pull up. He jumped to his feet with a yelp and came running. He began begging us to do for him what we had done for the other two. “Please give me a chance, take me off the street, help me get off drugs. I want to know your God also”. We hadn’t told any of them about Bruno or Clessio, but evidently word was on the street. And having heard, this boy was also begging us for help. He was so excited to see us, he was laughing, and yelling, and singing, and his demeanor kinda of threw us; we weren’t sure how to respond. The others had come to us absolutely broken and desperate, speaking to us softly with tears in their eyes. This guy was bouncing like Tigger. We talked to him briefly and then left thinking it best to give him some time. We added that intersection to our Thursday route hoping we would run into him again. Sure enough, he was there, and seemingly, waiting for us. Immediately he was again asking, and this time we explained what the rehab. was all about. We told him we would be back at this location, God Willing, at 10-am Tuesday morning. If he was serious, then we would be willing to take him. Pray for Junior, that he genuinely wants to know the God who can save his soul and liberate him from Satan’s vices.
I would guess that we fed about two hundred young people on Thursday. They are now so open to hear the Gospel. And every stop has turned into an open air meeting with, in some cases, over fifty gathered around to hear the Gospel. The intersection that Junior works was a new stop for us and we had no idea how many kids worked that corner. We pulled up, opened the tail gate, and started passing out food. Man, they came out of every corner, having heard about our work (word has spread through the whole city), and hoping that we would come to visit them. They were so happy to see us, and by the time they had all been fed, we were cleaned out. I was amazed at how many kids between eight to sixteen worked that corner. I saw this location as another incredible opportunity to reach souls with the Gospel. We were finally able to pull away with an empty car and a full heart.
There is one young boy; he’s maybe about fifteen years old. God has placed this boy as a real burden on our heart. His body is a mess, his feet are full of sores. Every time we give him new sandals the older kids steal them. Someone had given him a new shirt and the kids stole that from him as well. So his present wardrobe is made up of one pair of very dirty board shorts. It doesn’t seem like he has any family. He sleeps on an old, filthy dirty mattress that he lays out on the sidewalk of the street corner that he works. He works this corner with one other boy that is maybe a few years older than him. He’s soft spoken, and so kind, and does his best to be happy when we arrive, but the pain is all over his face. He told us how much he likes us, and how he looks forward to our visits on Thursday. It seems that no one has ever shown him kindness. He seems so alone in a city that is thriving with people who don’t give him a second notice. We want so much to reach out and help this boy, but are not sure what we can do. We don’t think he has a drug problem and so don’t want to expose him to the rehab element. Pray that God gives us wisdom to do what’s right for his physical and spiritual well being.
Tuesday we spent with Cleide. We had put together a plan to help the orphanage present itself as a well-oiled machine to the judge at the next required meeting (end of this month). We spent the day going over the plan, and told Cleide how her job would become so much easer with the help of some organization and written rules of the house. We talked to her about putting a file together for each kid, with all his medical, schooling, and household responsibilities recorded and filed. We talked about the needs of the orphanage: structure, discipline, accountability, responsibilities for each child and help for each child with their schooling. We are fairly sure that these are some of the basics that the judge is looking for. We could see that she was struggling with the thought of all these tasks, but at the same time she knew it was very necessary. She has been alone and overwhelmed with this work for so long thats she’s desperate for anyone who’s willing to help. Once we knew she was on board we then made arrangements to stand by her as she explained the plan to her staff. From there, we’ll get the kids together and allow the staff to deliver the good news to them. Pray that implementing this plan goes smoothly, and so impresses the judge that he loosens his authority and allows her to continue to operate.
Pray as well for our permanent visa which is such a complicated ordeal. We met again on Wednesday with the professional people that we hired to help us with this process. It seems every time we’re with them we leave the office with a new list of requirements.
Monday was a holiday here, and so some of the Christians we know here asked if they could spend the day at our house. Sunday night we were told that twelve would be arriving in the morning, but this turned into thirty-eight on Monday. We love having them and I know that it’s a real treat for them to be on the beach and have access to the pool.
The high point of the day was a conversation that came up about headship. I was sitting with three of the elders that represented three different local churches, and they all wanted to know how I understood the subject. It was a very friendly, unassuming, relaxed, and comfortable conversation that came about very unexpectedly. They listened as I explained my understanding of scripture regarding this subject. God alone knows what will come of it, but after, when they had all gone home, and I began to think about the days events, I smiled to myself. I could see God’s fingerprints in the whole thing. As much as I have been wanting to have that discussion, I could never have arranged and brought it about the way that God did on Monday afternoon. Pray that this is the beginning of an open door, as well as open hearts, with a desire to understand and a willingness to obey God’s word.
I would say that this has pretty much covered the events of the past week. Again we ask for and covet your prayers. And with that I say to you all good night.
From my family to yours,
Love in Christ,
Mark, Lori, Caroline and William.