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.