Have Questions? I (may) have answers!

Can I be honest?

This is when you state the obvious, “Yes, but of course.”

There have been so many thoughts, emotions, feelings, and what else? STUFF. In my heart and mind these last few weeks. How do I work through it all, how do I express what’s inside for the outside to know?

It seems like so much has been a haze. A haze of misunderstanding of not “getting” what God seems to be trying to tell me, but then, like those tiny cherry bombs (you know the ones you buy in China town and then throw on the ground and they make a semi-loud noise), there seems to be tiny “explosions” in my heart, mind, and soul of revelation. But it’s still so much to process.

And that’s where part of me is at – the processing stage.

I want to write, I want to inform, I want to tell and share. Sometimes, I just don’t know where to start- or where to end.

“How was Brazil?” People ask me.

How much time do you have? How much do you want to know? Can you ask me a specific question? That helps me stay focused and saves us both time if all you wanted to know was “how was your first full-year abroad?” and I begin to tell you how my heart handled Brazil or vice versa.

So please, ask away. I actually quite enjoy answering questions. It also helps me process this whole thing myself. (Comment below or send me an email or message on Facebook). 

And if you live within driving range, let’s get together for coffee and I will tell you how good Brazilian coffee is. Seriously though, message me, email me, call me, text me; however we communicate, let’s get together.

Thanks for doing life with me.

Passionately Jesus’,

Brittaney :)

a little girl and her Daddy

I saw a little girl; she was holding the hand of her daddy as they were walking on the beach. Her little dress was flowing in the breeze.

I saw their feet; her tiny two or three year old little feet.

Stumbling

 Tripping

Struggling to walk in step with her daddy. Walking in the sand can be hard… she was trying to keep up with him.

I saw the daddy take the little girl’s hands in his and swing her up, putting her on his shoulders.

He carried her on his shoulders.

There she was, arms outstretched, feeling the breeze on her face, enjoying the ride; her eyes were closed, no longer worrying or needing to worry about keeping up with her daddy.

She was with him.

God’s been reminding me that I need to rely on His strength.

I need to take the focus off of my struggles and allow Him to carry me on His shoulders. It’s there I can see the bigger picture- I see what He sees.

It’s there I am truly free.

Secure.

I no longer have to worry.

I am carried on my daddy’s shoulders.

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