Thanksgiving in Brazil

If you’re wondering whether or not I got to celebrate an American holiday, here in Brasil, the answer is yes. I was invited over to an American/Brazilian family’s house for the evening to celebrate with them and a bunch of other Brazilians.

The best pumpkin pie I have ever had. No kidding.

FOOD!

The food was pretty much what you’d see at a typical Thanksgiving dinner: Turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie, green bean casserole, all made from scratch and appetizers such as deviled eggs. The only non-typical food was that of a Brazilian favorite- coxinhas (basically a shredded chicken mixture, rolled in dough, which is then fried- delicious, then again, what fried thing isn’t delicious?) We didn’t have the typical cranberry sauce or anything made from sweet potatoes as those things cannot be found here. Even with all the great food however, I still found myself thinking of rice and beans (only briefly, though).

My favorite part of the day however was when Ramona (another American missionary- who has been here for 30 years, more or less, and is married to a Brazilian) told us that if we wanted to, we could write out what we were thankful for on a paper leaf and hang it on the tree she had made from a branch (my mom does this!) I love stuff like this. Traditions like this where we stop and take time to reflect, together, on the goodness of God.

 

This Thanksgiving, what am I thankful for?

Praying before our meal.

1. FAMILY here and there. I’m thankful for the “family”- being defined as families and people that have adopted me and welcomed me, and of whom God has given me here in Brasil and I’m thankful for my family in the states who will always be there for me with whom I can talk to about the spectacular and mundane.

2. PORTUGUESE. Honestly, sometimes I don’t want to speak or try to understand and though, at first, I thought of it an “injustice” that we would be celebrating Thanksgiving, an American holiday, in Portuguese (I was being a bit dramatic), it was a lovely thing. Though it’s not always easy, it is a part of my life now, each day I’m learning, and not just the language itself.

Youngest and the oldest.

Love these faces!

"Britt, we haven't played football for the last 5 years." was the response I got after asking if they had continued our family "tradition" of playing (American) football every Thanksgiving.

3. This SEASON OF my LIFE- Specifically in being single. (I wrote about this same thing almost exactly a year ago...)

While at the Thanksgiving dinner, missing familiarity and family, I looked around and found myself wishing I was like the young married couple sitting across from me- wishing I had someone to hold onto and an “automatic” person with whom I could turn to or talk with.

I looked to the left of me to the family with two young kids and found myself wishing that I was even like them- with children to look after and care for. God challenged me to not look around me and wish I had something I didn't but to see the beauty and the things I could be thankful for in being single.

Once I opened my eyes, my perspective changed. I saw that I could easily insert myself into any of the conversations going on, or I could choose to be a “fly on the wall” and quietly observe all that was going on around me. I could dismiss myself easily to go Skype my family and I could be lost in my own thoughts and talk with God about them. This is a beautiful season.

~*~

It was a great Thanksgiving spent in Brazil, I would love to hear how yours was spent and what you are thankful for during this season!

Now it is time to start thinking of Christmas... ;) What are your plans?

47 Reasons to Learn Portuguese

Inspired by a blog I follow, BrazilianGringo.com, I have come up with a list of 47 reasons I am learning Portuguese.

I am Learning Portuguese to...

1. Be able to communicate my heart

2. live and function in Brazil

3. Understand other people communicate their hearts

4. Ask someone how I can be praying for them and understand what they tell me so I can pray specifically

5. Be able to be understood by others when I pray in group or one-on-one settings

6. Accept direction the first time and not have to make someone say it s l o w e r and repeat themselves a bunch of times and then finally have to show me because I still don’t understand.

7. Write eloquently and effectively

8. Teach on a specific topic (i.e. intercession)

9. Communicate with the kids that come to our discipleship group

10. Order a sandwich from Subway confidently

11.  Understand people’s life stories, where they came from and how they grew up

12. Ask questions about Brazil’s history and understand the answers

13. Lead worship in Portuguese and tell the congregation where we’re going next with the song, pray in between, and share what I feel God is putting on my heart

14. Sing spontaneously

15. Participate in a worship band and lead a band well

16. Disciple others

17. Understand the settings on the washing machine

18. Write notes to my amigos Brasileiros

19. Understand the many ways of asking “Where are you from?”

20. Ask the boys (and girl) that attend our soccer training how they are and how their week was (and understand their replies)

21. Go deeper and beyond the “Hi, how are you?” and really know how a person is doing

22. Hear and understand a person’s life vision, dreams, and hopes

23. Blog in Portuguese

24. Understand messages sent to me by my Brazilian friends and reply to them promptly without having to use Google translate or my dictionary

25. Not have to carry my English/Portuguese dictionary with me wherever I go

26. Understand the questions the students, in the English class I sub in, ask me

27. Accurately translate into Portuguese what I’m teaching these students in English (I've told them the wrong thing before)

28. Help with translation (formally)

29. Lead a small group/ Bible study

30. Participate in a small group/ Bible study

31. Tell a person how much I appreciate them and what they truly mean to me in a way their heart would understand

32. Understand what is being said by the people I visit in the neighborhood, hear their stories, and learn about their family

33. Understand the message preached on Sunday

34. Understand whether or not someone is asking me, “How long have you been in Brazil?” or “How long will you be in Brazil?”

35. Communicate my stories

36. Answer the question, and tell the story behind the answer, “Why did you come to Brazil?”

37. Join in worship, singing with my heart rather than with just my brain (focusing on the words I don’t know, can’t pronounce, and the rhythm they fall into)

38. Understand the announcements being made and things being said during staff meetings

39. Participate in group conversations that are happening around me

40. Read the Bible out loud

41. Help “bridge the gap” (through translation and giving cultural information that pertains to language) for others that come to Brazil or for Brazilians who want to communicate to speakers of English

42. Speak, preach, and give devotionals in corporate settings

43. Translate my grandmother’s brownie and snickerdoodle recipe for friends who want it

44. Understand the jokes people tell me and be able to joke back

45. Journal in Portuguese

46. Think in Portuguese

And finally, I am learning Portuguese because

47.  I chose Brasil and I choose to speak its language

sozinha

My first week here in Pitangui, Brazil, I walked to the Jesus Bar (the bar is literally named “Bar of Jesus”) and met Jesus himself.

Okay, maybe I should explain, I was looking for milk and all the other stores were closed. Seriously. Both Jesuses can vouch for me. ;)

Anyways, in conversation with Jesus (the bar owner, not my Lord and Savior), he asked me where my parents were.

“In the United States.” I replied.

“Sozinha?” He asked.

“Yes.” Was my reply and then quickly added that no, I wasn’t really alone (sozinha) but that I lived in community and that it was really good.

Though I said what was true, I walked away, honestly, feeling a little bitter.

“Sozinha.” I thought. “Thanks for reminding me that I’m alone.”

Feeling vulnerable; in a different place, different everything… being hit by the realization that I am actually living in a foreign country. Longing for someone to hold me, someone whose shoulder I could cry on out of exhaustion, which was more out of emotional, mental, and spiritual exhaustion, than it was physical, though being physically exhausted sure didn’t help the whole matter.

As I wrote about this incident in my journal, I wanted to cling to feelings of bitterness and frustration, but- sozinha- I am not.

 

I am not alone.

To say so, to internalize this belief would be an act of injustice.

I am not alone.

Besides having the obvious (Jesus),

I have YOU. Yes, you, the person reading this blog.

I have an army of people, like you, behind me who have sent me, supported me, loved me well, and encouraged me.

How can I say I am alone?

I just talked with one of my dear friends, who prays for me consistently, and in her words (or as close to her words as I can remember),

“Oh Mija,” (“daughter” in Spanish), you have so many people praying for you. I am not talking about hundreds, I am talking about thousands; and even if you didn't have one single person behind you supporting you, you still wouldn't be alone. You have God and He’s the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”

Thank you.

Thank you, God and thank you dear friends of mine. Some of whom I've never met.

May I walk alongside of you as well?

Please message me, I am serious about this.

We will never walk alone.  

Gratefully yours,

Brittaney :)

different

For the last month and a half, since being in Brazil, I have been pondering off and on what to write “back home” about.

How do I describe what has become so “normal” to me?

Yet, at the same time, or at times, feels so incredibly foreign?

The truth is,

This is different.

Brazil                                                                            America

Food, culture, language, land, thought processes, church, people, traffic, roads, dress, houses, ways of cleaning, laundry, ways of relating, names of guitar chords…

Everything.

Yet, again at the same time, it’s not so different.

*A note on the word different- when I say “different,” I am not saying “bad.” I’m not even saying, “better” or “worse.” I am simply saying

different.               

At times these differences make me grin so wide and laugh to myself that I wonder what those around me are thinking and if they think I’m crazy.

Other times these differences overwhelm me and I begin to long, even more so, for “home,” in this case, being the place of familiarity.

So how would I describe Brazil?

One thing is for sure- a simple blog post cannot describe the intricacies of a culture I am just beginning to know and the depths of my heart and feelings in reaction to this understanding.

As I sift through these things I’m experiencing, both similar and different, I will do my best to write about them, so that hopefully you can see a bit more of this adventure we’re on together.

If you have a specific question, please don't hesitate to ask, just comment below or send me a message. :)

Where's your heart? A Change of addresses

A couple weeks ago I went to the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) with my mom to add her name to the title of my car. When I received the paperwork to complete, one of the questions I most dread was asked of me. Staring at me, refusing to let me bypass its glare, read the word

Address

Why do I hate this “question” so?

I hate this question because it reminds me of the unknown. It takes what I thought I had finally come to terms with and had found an answer to and reminds me of how I really don’t know the answer at all.

When you ask me my address, I immediately understand that to mean,

“Where is home for you?”

A question I've been struggling to come to terms with since my first adventure in missions when I was 16.

In the last two years, Chico had become my home, but now I was moving to Brasil… with a heavy heart I put the address of my parent’s home. Fighting back tears, I heard God speak to me,

“Brittaney, where’s your heart?”

We've heard it many times, the saying, “Home is where your heart is.” With a tinge of frustration, I answered God’s question with, “My heart is in Chico, in Brasil, and in India for that matter!”

“No, Brittaney,” God gently replied “Your heart is with me.”

My heart is with God. My home is with him.

In a world of unknowns, where nothing is constant, and where even stability is insecure, I will rest in him, my Jesus, clinging to him with all I have because he is constant, he is stable, and he never changes.

May God’s peace that surpasses all comprehension, guard your heart and your mind in our precious Christ Jesus,*

Brittaney :)

*Philippians 4:7

August 18

In the midst of the waiting, where the light of hope grows dim, I find myself again, doubting.

“Am I really supposed to go to Brazil?

Is it really for this season, or is it for later?

Am I really hearing God’s voice, or am I hearing what I want to hear?”

I've written about this before… the uncanny thing about doubt is that it likes to creep in. Even after you've resolved to stand firm in what you know.

Last Sunday night, the 20^th of July, you could find me in the Flag Circle at our YWAM campus. I was lying underneath Brazil’s flag, staring up at it flowing and whipping back and forth in the nighttime breeze.

God told me that he was going to speak to me that night and like I had told God many times before, I repeated my desire of wanting to go to Brazil.

“You’re going sooner than you think.” Was God’s reply this time.

“What the heck does ‘soon’ mean?” I asked in frustration. “Is it too much to ask for a date?”

Before these words had finished forming in my head, God replied with, “August 18.”

“God, if this is what you’re saying, I need you to confirm it.” I said, praying for confirmation.

I went to bed that night, with peace in my heart and able to rest.

The next morning, during our campus worship meeting, one of the staff members, Michael, stood up and spoke to us saying, “I believe that God is calling us to be COURAGEOUS.”

Photo courtesy of Donnie Moore Ministries

On somewhat of a side note- this had been the theme of the Radical Reality camp we had just hosted, not to mention one of the things God has been speaking to me about. Funny how God likes to tell his people the same thing at similar times, huh? ;)

One of the leaders then suggested that we take a moment to ask God what that meant for us as individuals.

Bowing my head, I asked God, “What do you want me to be courageous in?”

“In going to Brazil” was his reply.

No later than when his reply had finished, when another staff member, Brittany, tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up. “Go buy your plane ticket.”Brittany said.

“What?” I replied.

“Go buy your plane ticket.” Brittany repeated.

Having still not heard her very well and probably not quite believing what I was hearing and wanting to be sure, I again replied with, “What?”

“God told me to tell you to buy your plane ticket.” Brittany said.

I began to cry and I told her what God had told me the night before and just a moment before she had tapped me on the shoulder.

After the meeting, I found another staff member, Robin and asked if I could talk with her. It seemed as if what God had told me had been confirmed but I didn't want to take that as my only confirmation and I wanted and needed prayer and advice from someone who’s been at life a little longer than I have.

I sat down with Robin and told her how I had asked God for a date. I then told her that I felt like he said August 18.

“Wow.” Robin exclaimed. “Right after you told me how you asked God for a date, August 18 is the date that came to my mind; before you even said it.”

“What?” I said, a cross between being dumbfounded and excited. “Why did August 18 come to mind?” I asked her.

“I don’t know” Robin said, shrugging, “it just did.”

Now, in case you’re wondering, no. I don’t have my visa. So what to do? Buy a plane ticket for August 18 in faith that I would receive my visa before that?

Robin prayed with me and I went to Brittany’s office to tell her of the conversation I just had had with Robin.

While in conversation with Brittany about all that had transpired, my phone starts lighting up with messages from one of my friends, Schayanne, in Brazil. Schayanne had been able to contact someone from the Embassy, concerning my visa application, who confirmed that it had been received and was in order. This contact believed that I should contact the consulate in San Francisco (where I applied). Schayanne encouraged me to call the consulate (they had told me not to contact them).

I did my best to contact the consulate, and after a minor redirection, I was able to leave a message with the visa department.

That’s where it was left.

I packed my bag that night for a family reunion in Minnesota and left Chico for the Bay Area, where I would meet up with my mom. Hope had been renewed.

HOPE- it meant so much to me.

After 4 months of waiting in silence, having heard nothing from the consulate, I now finally had something. God gives me more answers than the consulate does! ;)

I hoped and prayed that I would receive word, concerning my visa’s process, the week I was in Minnesota.

I was not disappointed.

While sitting on my bed, having just been in Minnesota for a few days, I decided to check my email before shutting off my phone and calling it a night. Opening my inbox and loading my messages, I notice an email from a sender whose name is in Portuguese and a subject line that reads, “Visa to Brazil.” I opened it up to read the following:

I was stunned; absolutely stunned and in shock.

“Mom… mom…” I said as I leaned over to my mom sitting beside me. My phone began to shake in my trembling hands as I passed it off to her. “I think I got my visa… I got my visa. Oh my gosh, mom, I have my visa!” My mom read the email and exclaimed in joy. I just cried. I cried for about 30 minutes as my mom and I prayed, thanking and praising God together for what he had done.

Four months. Four l o n g months of praying, hoping, trusting, doubting, crying, and praying and hoping some more and finally to have gained what I had fought for, what YOU fought for, what WE fought for together, for the approval and release of my visa.

Thank you.

Seriously, thank you. Every single one of you who prayed and every single one of you who encouraged me to keep waiting, to keep hoping, to keep trusting… Oh my friends, thank you.

God has made all this possible and he has used YOU. Thank you.

So… you might be wondering- August 18- is that my date of departure?

You betcha it is. ;)

More details to follow soon, please contact me with your email if you wanna know what’s up.

Brasil, here I come!!!! :D

Brasil, I choose you

Not gonna lie, in this period of waiting to go to Brasil, doubt has begun to creep in.

Am I really supposed to go to Brasil?

Is Brasil the country my heart is supposed to fall in love with?

Why Brasil?

I could fall in love with any country…

In dialogue with God one night, while looking up at the Brazilian flag, these questions came forth.

I felt like God answered me with a question,

“Do YOU want to go to Brasil?”

I thought, if I could choose any other country to go to, would I? It didn't take me long to reply.

I choose Brasil.

wait.

"Wait for the Lord;

Be strong and take heart

And wait for the Lord."

~Psalm 27:14

"Espere no Senhor. Seja forte! Coragem! Espere no Senhor." ~Salmos 27:14

This is one of the verses that God has continued to bring me back to, reminding me, in the things I want most, to be strong, take heart, and wait. 

"But how long, Lord?"

("Mas quanto tempo, o Senhor?") 

It's not the easiest thing to wait... and in the waiting, I can easily become distracted; little things that don't matter in light of the bigger picture, take on unnecessary importance. 

Oh but to remember, WHO I AM and what God has called me to do- to refocus myself and to remind myself that even in the waiting, God has still called me. 

My job in the waiting is to respond to his calling. 

I love the Português translation of this verse, 

"...Seja forte! Coragem!"

The declaration, a command to "...Be strong! Take courage!" Emphasized with exclamation marks, validating that waiting takes courage just as acting does. 

So here I am Lord, use me in the waiting. 

fight

The last week and a half have been rough.

I’ve been faced with disappointment, having heard nothing about my visa.

Dealing with identity and unconsciously wondering what I’m doing here; trying to rest in the fact that my identity is not contingent on what I do, but who I am, yet not having truly committed this head knowledge to my heart.

I find myself listening to music in Portuguese and wanting to cry, thinking that one day I will understand and speak this language.

Reading a book about Pelé (the world’s greatest soccer player) and how he helped Brazil win 3 World Cup Championships, I feel my heart swell with pride.

My eyes are drawn towards Brasil’s flag and its colors and what I feel, I think, could be described as love and maybe even a sort of “national pride” if that’s even possible for a non-national.

And while my passport is in Brasil (along with my paperwork, being processed), I am not.

For a brief moment last night, I tossed around the idea in my head of giving up on going to Brasil.

However, in the last month (has it only been a month?) God has been beginning to show me something: the importance of the fight.

The things we fight to have, 
will be the things we fight to keep.

In this “fight” of going to Brasil, it hasn’t been as easy of a process as I originally thought. In this process, however, my heart has responded by crying out more for this country and my passion and my love has grown deeper and stronger.

As a result of this, I believe that when I am finally in Brasil and things get hard- I hit a wall regarding the language, I begin to feel homesick, I grow tired of rice and beans or whatever else that leads me to contemplate booking a flight back to California, I won’t because I would have fought to get to Brasil and I will, in turn, fight to stay there.

Some things in life are worth fighting for.

To me, Brasil is worth the fight.

Running in the (un)dark

I’m learning to trust.

Again and again and again and again.

Yesterday I was to pick up my visa from the Brazilian Consulate in San Francisco and I was even thinking about flying out then. A week and a half ago, I received word from the Consulate that my visa paperwork got sent to Brazil. When I asked if they had any rough idea or estimation of when I might receive it back, the answer given to me was, “I have no idea. We’ll call you.”

No date. No visa. No idea.

Just a word from God telling me to trust.

To plant my feet.

So I continue serving at the YWAM base here in Chico, involved in a variety of ministries while trying to figure out what it looks like to plant my feet right where I’m at, while at the same time prepare and be ready to go to Brazil. It’s a paradox of sorts… one that I haven’t quite got figured out. Yet.

Tonight, while leading worship for our DTS (Discipleship Training School), we began crying out to God for the people and the places he has put on our hearts. We cried out for family, for friends, for our nations, for Brazil.

After almost two hours of worshiping God in our native tongues (we have people from over 8 nations) I packed up my guitar and walked outside to talk to God.

I began to run. At one point I cried,

“I WANT TO GO TO BRASIL, GOD!”

I stopped, not wanting to run any farther, afraid of the dark road ahead and the creatures that live there.

“Keep running.” God told me.

“God, I’m scared. I can’t see.” I replied.

“I’m protecting you. I’ve gone before you.”

I looked back to where I had come from; the lights from our property could still be seen. I then looked forward, the road was dark and unknown.  

“Don’t look back. Keep on moving forward.” God said.

And so I ran until God told me to stop and turn around and begin walking back.

When I was running, it was dark. I didn’t know exactly where I was running to, or how long I would be running. I didn’t know exactly why I was running and I didn’t think it was exactly safe to be running.

But, God told me to run. This I did know.

And when I ran, I felt peace; I knew I was safe.

When it comes to what lies ahead of me, in this next season, I can’t see.

I don’t see the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel” concerning my visa.

I can’t see what is going on “behind the scenes.”

And as much as I want to see, I know that I DO NOT NEED to see.

I can TRUST in my savior.

Because I know that HE sees.

For Freedom

My first 5k and I was running for Freedom.

Freedom is something dear to my heart- especially emotional and spiritual freedom. There’s something radical about people receiving freedom for the first time. Freedom brings life.

My friend Rachel and I decided, going into the race, that not only would we pay our entrance fee, participate, raise awareness, thus helping the organization (The Aruna Project) rescue the women being trafficked in India, but that we would go into the race having a heart to intercede.

Arriving at the site of the 5k, feeling a little out of it from lack of sleep and coffee, as well as trying to wrap my brain around and comprehend exactly what and who we were going into intercession for, we signed in and picked up our packets.

Each participant received a number and a piece of orange tape with a woman’s name on it. This was a name of a woman who is still enslaved in one of the largest red-light districts in India.

India. Another thing that is dear to my heart. It was the first country I spent a lengthy amount of time in and the first country I visited that became my home. With all my heart I want to go back. Some of “my kids” are there and there have been nights I have cried for them, wondering where they are, praying they’re safe and loved, and praying that I will see them again one day. Being able to run for a woman’s freedom from a country I love was sobering for me. It was also a privilege.

Looking down at the numbers we received, I thought it was quite random. 61 was what my bib read.

I really believe the importance of intercession is huge. The dictionary defines intercession as the act of intervening on another’s behalf. It is an intentional time of crying out (petitioning) for another person or situation with the goal of seeing things changed.

But you must defend those who are helpless and have no hope.

Proverbs 31:8

We began the race and we prayed, we cried out, we yelled (yes, we actually did) and we sang.

I looked down again at my number

61 

Isaiah 61 came to mind (which I thought was really neat as again, this is yet another thing dear to my heart and my life’s cry).

 "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me, Because the Lord has anointed Me To preach good tidings to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, To proclaim liberty to the captives, And the opening of the prison to those who are bound; To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, And the day of vengeance of our God; To comfort all who mourn, To console those who mourn in Zion, To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning, The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; That they may be called trees of righteousness, The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified."

Isaiah 61:1-3

I read this chapter out loud and verse 7 caught my attention:

Instead of shame you shall have double honor…

As we continued to walk, we prayed that shame would be lifted from these women.

We finished the race but really, this is just the beginning.

While I was running for the freedom of a woman who is located half the world away from me, there are women, men, and children needing freedom from sex trafficking located less than 30 minutes away from where I live. The statistics and the facts are sobering. This is happening in our very own cities and something needs to change.

What can we do? In such situations, I often times feel helpless. However, we are not helpless. We can do something, we will do something.

To be honest, this is just the beginning for me, so at the moment I don’t have a compilation of resources or ways to get involved. For the meantime I have a skeleton of a guide:

1. PRAY – there is power in prayer and intercession. Seriously. Get a group of friends together, dedicate a couple hours to cry out for those caught in sex trafficking.

2. ADVOCATE – raise awareness. We must do something once we have been made aware. We do not have the right to stay silent when we have a voice. Run a 5k, make a sign stating one of the many sobering statistics, talk to your friends, family, church, sports team, etc.

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

-Martin Luther King, Jr.

3. DO – get involved with an organization or ministry that is working with those who are being trafficked. A few of my friends just went through a training by SERT Ministries in which they actively fought this battle (check out their website).

Please, please, if you know of a site, organization, resource, anything, comment below.

Let us not remain silent when Freedom is to be had.

A Series of Unfortunate Events- Enjoying Life.

“I don’t want to get so caught up in doing life that I forget to really live.”

This is what I wrote in my journal just this morning. I had been in the middle of rushing around my house, putting things together, messaging and calling people and places, getting things in order when I felt God wanted me to s  l  o  w     d  o  w  n.

I sat down, tea in one hand, journal and pen in the other and I began to write, talking to God.

Back in my comfort zone of my home and being in familiar surroundings with a predictable schedule (for the most part), my “To Do” list came out with it’s never ending items (I like lists- sometimes too much).

“Slow Down.

Take a breath.

Enjoy life.”

Those were the last words I wrote in this morning’s entry. I went back to my computer to send out a few last messages before I left to run the few important errands I needed to run.

The internet wasn’t working.

I waited a few minutes to no avail and decided to continue on.

Getting in my car, ready to be gone the rest of the day, I input an address into my GPS and start my car.

Nothing.

Well, not nothing. There were a bunch of flashing lights on the dash.

Uh oh.

Long story short- forget all my errands I had planned for the morning and getting together with a friend for coffee, off to the shop my car and I go with the tow-truck driver.

I am now sitting in a coffee shop, waiting for my car and praying it doesn’t cost much to fix.

Strange how we can make plans and in a matter of a few minutes everything can go awry. Though sitting in a coffee shop was one of the things I was planning on doing, I certainly didn’t imagine it to be quite like this.  

Enjoy life.

Not gonna lie, it’s a little hard to do that, knowing that your plans aren’t going as planned and your budget is going to look a bit different.

But you know what?

There isn’t a thing I can do about it at the moment except to make the choice to

Slow down.

Take a breath

And regardless of my situation,

Enjoy Life.

Things I enjoy and am thankful for:

-wifi

-a city I know my way around (at least sort of)

-a shuttle at the auto shop

-friendly people

-being given money unexpectedly which I can put towards fixing my car

-Starbucks ;)

-LIFE.

Post-Blog Question for the Reader (that's YOU!) ;)

What does it mean to "really live"?

(comment below!)

I Can't Change the World

Last Friday night, a group of us went out to minister to some street kids. In DTS we read the book, A Cry from the Streets which was all about the YWAM ministry that got started here in Belo, working with children who lived on the streets. 

A former street kid, who now works with YWAM, by the name of Anderson led us. He spoke English well as he had been in the states (Elk Grove of all places) for 2 years. He was a real leader.

We had to go searching for the kids and once we found a few who were staying underneath some sort of business awning adjacent to a busy intersection, we invited them over to another spot so we could play soccer and worship and pray together.

When we first started, we only had about 5 kids/young people. Ages 13-19 I believe. We began with honoring their friend, Elisa, a 14 year old girl who had been killed the week before. She had been set on fire by another street kid. A lady from Holland named Annette, lead a song on the guitar, dedicating it to Elisa. Annette played and the girls sitting next to me cried.

Next, one of our team members got up to share. She cried as she told the kids how she knew what they were going through. A friend of hers had been murdered. “I am so sorry.”  She told the kids as tears fell down her face and Anderson translated.

Honestly, this whole situation- seeing these kids- seemed a bit surreal to me. A girl, Maya, who was the same age as my sister, dressed in a short, skin-tight, dress, sitting on the curb crying over a friend who had been burned to death.

How do you feel emotion for something like this when this is so outside of your perception of reality and life? How do you relate with someone when their way of living isn't even something you can comprehend?

They began a game of soccer, kicking off their sandals to use as goal markers along with halves of a coconut. I joined in and I wondered why we hadn’t started a game earlier. Language isn’t needed to kick a ball.

Eventually a few cameras came out and the kids were all over that. They loved having their pictures taken. In various poses, with various people, they paired up guys and girls and posed as “couples” and then for the next photo paired up with a different guy or girl. I couldn’t tell if any of them were actually “together.” I guess that didn’t matter much. Or, I don’t know… deep down I think it does. What is love to them? What is relationship? Does either hold any real value to these kids? Perhaps my ideas and reality of love and relationships are completely outside of their sphere of reality.

My emotions were pretty monotonous the entire night and as we walked away I wondered if we really had made any difference.

“Did you love?” God asked me.

“Yes.” I replied.

“Then you made a difference.”

I walked home thinking about how I cannot change the world. I can’t. But I can love.

And I can do all things through God cause he gives me strength. God has called me to make an impact on those around me. He has called me to change the world- with him. Though I feel helpless and as if I don’t even know where to begin, he has shown me and asked me and led me to LOVE. Of which I can only do with him.

There is truth in saying I can’t do it, because in all reality, I can’t. I need Jesus.

I cannot change the world. 

But I can love.

And together- you, me, and Jesus- we will change the world.