One of my favorite stories from the Bible is the story of the Philippian Jailer from Acts 16. I like the story for multiple reasons – Paul & Silas’s hope and joy as they sing from prison, the conversion of the jailer and the baptism that follows, and the celebratory banquet soon after that. But my favorite part of the story (and probably the most well known part of the story) is the jailer’s question – “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” I long for people to ask me this sort of a question — a softball for a person in ministry.

Well, two Saturdays ago, that is exactly what someone asked. We are currently storying/teaching through the Old Testament with some new believers as well as their families and friends. Some Saturdays we have over twenty people, other Saturdays there are four. Two weeks ago was one of those “over twenty” days, with all the ‘regulars’ in attendance as well as new faces from upriver. We’ve been telling stories from the Old Testament with a focus on the Hope of the Messiah – Genesis 3:15’s promise of the conquering descendant of Eve, the worldwide blessing promised of Abraham’s seed in Genesis 12, and the eternal reign of David’s son. At this particular study, I told the story of the Exile – because of Israel’s sin, they were kicked out of the Promised Land just as Adam and Eve were kicked out of the garden. Instead of the promises being realized in and through Israel, they were pushed off into the unforeseeable future because of their disobedience and inability to follow the Law.

At the end of the story I talked about the hope of the Messiah – that God promised one who would come and defeat sin, death, and Satan. Suddenly, one of the men I had never met looked up at me and asked, “How can I become a believer?” Praise God! I spoke to him for a few minutes during the study, then for a few minutes after the study, and again at the riverbank the next day.

One of the difficulties about where we live is that the next day he went back upriver. And we don’t have any means of communicating with him until he comes back downriver – which usually only happens once every three or four months. Pray for him and his family. I’m not quite yet willing to call him a believer, but he’s definitely seeking and interested. Pray that God would break his heart of stone and give him a heart of flesh; pray that God’s Sprit would breathe life into him.

When I (Greg) previously lived in the Amazon I loved going with the people to their roças – their farms. The day would start early in order to get work done before the sun got too hot. We put on our rubber boots, sharpened our machetes, and walked 30 or so minutes through the dense Amazon jungle before seeing a sunny clearing where the farm was.

The farms were full of banana trees, pineapple plants, sugar cane, and manioc – a root that is the primary food of the people of the Amazon, a bit like a potato. After an hour or two of uprooting the manioc, when it was really starting to warm up, we’d look for some shade and peel it. Some of my favorite memories were while talking and laughing peeling manioc together.

Since coming back to the Amazon, this has been missing. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to go to the farm with someone. One of the difficulties is that many of the people we work with have farms that are far upriver – that even they rarely go to. Well, I was finally able to go last month. We worked for a few hours uprooting and peeling manioc. We ate lots of banana and manioc, as well as some açaí and grilled chicken. It was a fun, exhausting, nostalgic day.

One of the reasons I share this with you is to explain a little bit about the culture of the people here and our ministry. For us, some of the best ministry can and will happen while sitting down and peeling manioc together. It is fantastic conversation time and a great opportunity to share God’s Word.

Another reason I share this with you is to ask for your prayers. As we have thought and prayed about how we can get to know more people, provide for some physical needs, do ministry as a family, and continue to progress in culture and language, we have returned time and again to the idea of having a family farm. We could invite a family or two to go with us. They could help us work the land and in return, they take everything they harvest back home to hopefully have at least 4-5 days’ worth of food. We are only in the beginning phases of looking into this. But we do ask that you would all pray for us as we begin researching and looking for a place to farm and do ministry.

I couldn’t speak around the lump in my throat. As his words sank in, so did the reality of what we are doing — of what it might cost.

“They asked us to come,” Greg’s voice shook with excitement. “They invited us to go up the river. They want our help. They know they need a salvation.”

He was telling me about our people. One of the groups to which we were sent. They live deep within the jungle, where sickness and hopelessness pervade. We recently learned thirty-three of the males killed themselves last year. Some venture out of the jungle, to the nearest towns, searching for help, education, and medicine, but those who make it to the towns are introduced to drugs, alcohol, prostitution and gambling, spend money they do not have, and become trapped by a new sort of problems.

We live on the fringe of this jungle. We positioned ourselves here because we cannot go in unless they ask. We thought it would be 10 years before they did.

I thought back to a journal entry from the previous week: It’s almost beyond my ability to comprehend that people yet exist, untouched by the outside world, hidden by miles of dangerous green, filled with jaguars, poisonous creatures, anacondas and deadly fungi. 

Stranger still, to sit here at the edge of it, hoping to understand it, waiting to see how and when to enter it.

Greg went on, “They know they need help. They fear they are losing their culture, and their population is dwindling because of the suicides. They feel they are a people forgotten, overlooked.” He paused. “It may mean a very different life than the one we thought. I may be gone for weeks at a time on the river.”

My mind instantly flooded with questions, thoughts, fears. What about the dangers, the unknowns of the jungle and the river? What of the days with no cell signal, nights with no knowledge of his whereabouts or safety? What about our two small children? What if we have an emergency, I wondered, thinking of the tiny one-room public hospital our town has.

“This is an unreal opportunity!” I heard myself say. And I meant it with every fiber of my being. This is what we’ve been asking for and all we’ve been working towards since we got married.

The coming weeks and months are uncertain. The task at hand seems overwhelming—impossible even. We’ve known all along it would be, but now it’s here.

But even through the fog of these events and changes, for us it remains simple:

We have but one purpose, and one life to give.

*        *         *

God, in His glorious way and perfect timing, has chosen to place our family in this place at a truly incredible time. “Our people,” are struggling in the jungle which is forcing them out, but they are coming to realize that they face just as many or more problems if they reach the cities. This is creating a sense of desperation, for the preservation of their ancient culture and way of life, as well as for hope of any kind. One man asked Greg specifically if he would come and bring about the salvation of his people. We are in awe and humbled by these things. We ask for your prayer. For wisdom — the jungle is dangerous and the people in it are broken — and for the true salvation of our people.

I had just put Titus to bed. He had fallen asleep while I read him a story — exhausted, fighting some sort of allergy or sickness. The previous three days had been full of wheezing and coughing, and nighttime sleep had been interrupted — exhausting for both of us. His health had been a challenge off and on for what had seemed like 6 months. I wanted my healthy, happy boy back.

My heart was heavy as I lowered my seven-month pregnant body to pick up toys and began to work on the grandiose pile of dishes. With no dishwasher, just two meals can make the kitchen a mountainous mess and ants in Brazil are aggressive, so no leaving everything “to soak.”

My mind was occupied with Titus’s health and the 90 degrees it felt it was inside our home at 8:00 pm. I sighed and wished for “home” and healthcare I understand for my small son, for dishwashers and cooler temperatures. There are days where the combination of stress and heat and unfamiliar feel suffocating.

Deep in thought, I accidentally bumped a glass plate. It fell onto our unforgiving tile floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.

And I just stared at it.

One more thing to add to the workload. One more thing that would take care and precision to clean, so that Titus would not catch a tiny shard in a foot or hand the next day. Just bending over to pick things off the floor these days is a task. And now this?!

I have a comment I make to Greg sometimes, when it seems like everything is going wrong, and then little things on top of those things happen and tip the scale, resulting in frustration and tears. I joke and say, “Someone somewhere hates me!” As if days that go “badly” in my short-sighted economy and perspective are some sort of conspiracy by someone “out there.” It’s a ridiculous philosophy and we both laugh.

But sometimes it feels that way.

Recently when I have gone to utter those words, a truth hidden deep inside comes to the surface. “Someone somewhere loves you.” I’m reminded that these things that happen to me or around me, or threaten to overwhelm me with stress and discomfort  are actually part of a grandiose plan formed specifically for my life by someone who loves me and wants me to cling to Him. Someone who knows my only hope for true, lasting joy is Himself, and to be unsatisfied and uncomfortable in this world is the grace by which I seek and find all I need in Him.

These discomforts are reminders that I am not home yet. They are not haphazard and by chance, but rather crafted for me by a Creator who loves me too much to let me spend my days in total comfort and peace, forgetting the broken world we live in and my desperate need for Him.

So as I kneeled to pick up the shards of broken glass from the floor, I said a quiet “thank you.” His gifts seem strange sometimes, but gentle reminders of his love come more from anxieties and struggles than holidays in the sun.

So for that one glass plate, I am thankful.

Savannah

Happy Belated Mother’s Day to my sweet, dear wife. And, happy four years since we started dating!! And happy six months since arriving in Brazil!

Savannah does not know I am writing this; however, I just wanted to give a public shout out and thank you to my wife for the years of sacrifices she has made and continues to make. Ever since we got married it seems as though our roles have been reversed. She would love to be the stay at home wife/mom, creating a comfortable atmosphere at home for us to enjoy as a family as well as for us to invite others over to cultivate friendships. Now that we have Titus, she would love to be at home playing with him, teaching him, laughing with him all day.

However, this has not been the life we have had. I’m not complaining, or saying there are any regrets. I’m just saying I’m thankful for my wife. When we first got married, I was in seminary and working part time putting much of the workload on her shoulders, to work full time and “put me through seminary.” She worked from 8:00am till 6:00pm. Whereas she would have loved to have been home to make a hot dinner for me when I got home from the day’s activities, we usually both got home about the same time and threw together a quick bite to eat (many times as I was on my way out the door for evening classes).

Once we had Titus, we had what many might call a “normal” lifestyle. I worked full-time while Savannah was full-time momma! But that only lasted about 4 months. Then we started getting ready to leave the country. Whereas we definitely enjoyed time with friends and family, and we were greatly refreshed by our training in Virginia before coming to Brazil, during that time it was difficult to have a schedule, to be a “normal” family, to sit down and smile and relax and enjoy being parents. In some ways, we were ready to get to Brazil because we would finally be able to put down an anchor, find some routines, and slow down a bit.

Whereas much of that has happened, our first 6 months (can you believe it’s been 6 months already!?) have also been difficult. Those who receive our monthly newsletters know that Titus has been fighting cold/flu/pneumonia off and on for the past 1-2 months. That has been especially taxing for his momma, in a country where she can’t speak the language (though she’s learning fast and doing great!) and there are different germs and bacteria affecting us all.

In the midst of all this, it is my wife who has made the most sacrifice to be in Brazil. Whereas my Portuguese can always get better, I’m already comfortable living here and speaking to whoever about whatever. I love the food (sometimes more than American food!). Having spent 2 years here, I understand the culture and have learned to even appreciate it. However, none of these things are true of my wife – not to say she isn’t learning fast. It’s all new to her. What is easy and comfortable for me is difficult and strange to her.

In particular, and going back to how I started this blog, she has continued to make sacrifices for the sake of our marriage and for the sake of our call to missions. I simply want to acknowledge the difficulties of these sacrifices and tell her thank you, publicly. One big sacrifice concerns being a mother. Clearly she is a fantastic mother to our child! I love watching them together. However, what I am saying is that in order to learn Portuguese, ever since we got here, she has said goodbye to Titus every morning at around 7:30am, not to see him again until 10:30am or even noon (depending on a given day’s Portuguese activities). Whereas this is important for her to be able to leave the house to learn the language, and whereas I love my mornings with Titus, this is just difficult for his momma. Perhaps you who are moms can relate-there is that natural bond between mother and son. And it is difficult day after day for her to say goodbye to him. I tell her some of the new things he is learning to do, or say, new habits or routines (such as transitioning him from two naps per day to one!). There is a sense in which she feels that she should be telling me about those things, not the other way around.

Another great sacrifice she makes each and every day is in the simple fact that we are in Brazil! I lived here for 2 years. I have friends here. I rather prefer heat and humidity to cold and crisp – I prefer sweating to wearing multiple layers. For my wife, who grew up in North Carolina and Virginia, she rather enjoys her 4 seasons and misses frost on the ground and seeing her breath. The elements are physically exhausting, and the language and culture are mentally exhausting. She’s getting it from all angles! But she’s doing well, smiling, learning to love a culture and a people that, 6 months ago, she did not know.

One final, specific sacrifice, concerns pregnancy. As I just mentioned, the heat and humidity as well as the language and culture pack some punches; however, this is only amplified by the exhaustion that comes with pregnancy. So far, she hasn’t complained, but I know these days are difficult and long for her. On top of the exhaustion is the fear of giving birth in a foreign country! Whereas we are excited about our little girl being born a Brazilian, there is a lot of nervousness as we look at doctors and hospitals and think about the whole process going down in Portuguese!

So, as we look at 4 years since we started dating and 6 months in country, I just want to tell my wife publicly that she is doing great in Brazil and that I am incredibly proud of her and thankful for who she is and what she has done and continues to do for the sake of our family and our calling.

PS – We’ll try to be a little more consistent about posting here! Sorry it has been so long!

There must have been fifty children in the room. They live on the outskirts of our city, and they have a community all their own. They have come to the city for work and opportunity, but they come from places along the Amazon river where they live a vastly different kind of life.

Most of them have many brothers and sisters. Most of them began caring for their younger siblings almost as soon as they could walk. Standing on stools to cook, bathing and changing diapers, they are tiny mothers and fathers out of sheer necessity, for their parents are busy working to provide food and shelter.

I know this. Mentally I understand that they are careful and protective of babies, I know they have the ability to carry children for long distances, to do multiple tasks while taking care of smaller ones.

And then they reached their arms up for my child. 

Before I could move, they took him. They carried him across the room and bounced him up and down on their tiny legs. They pinched his cheeks and tousled his different looking hair. They grabbed his feet and stared into his face and tickled him. The surrounded him, speaking a language he did not understand, looking different than anyone he had ever seen.

I stood there and held my breath. My heart was pounding. I did not even know enough Portuguese language to tell them he might rather be with his mama.

“Let him go,” I heard, “I have him.” 

The fierce protectiveness that filled my heart the first time I looked at tiny Titus still swells in me every day. “Let him go?”  

I let him go that day. And he smiled and laughed and played. And my heart was gently reminded by our sweet, good Father of the joy that comes from holding our gifts with open hands.

Your prayers for our family are being answered. We are filled with joy.

Savannah

We are officially residents of Manaus, Brazil!

This week has been full. Day 2, we learned to drive manual transmission, and had a difficult time in some soft sand. An offer to help us turned into a full size tractor pulling us out of the dirt?! Below you can see our “new” vehicle, and the mess we made! We are learning to navigate a new city, a new way of driving, and heavy traffic. 

We are settling into our new apartment, and way of life. We have a washer with no dryer, so clothes hang either on our balcony, or all over our apartment while it rains. We have toilets, but cannot flush toilet paper, showers with primarily cold water, and each day we learn a funny new quirk about living or driving or cooking in our new country.

Below is the view from our apartment. The city is located in the middle of the rainforest, which makes for an interesting, beautiful dynamic. Manaus has over 2 million people, and it is located directly on the Amazon River. We hung our hammock on our porch, and have loved every second of laying in it while the rains (every day this season, perhaps?) cooled the heat of our city.

We are truly loving life here. God has been so good to make adjustment sweet and fun for all three of us. In different ways, and for different reasons, each day has brought about fun new memories we will never forget.

Thank you for your prayers as we adjust. The joy and rest and peace of God has filled our hearts and minds during what could be a very stressful time. We are so incredibly grateful.

 

 

“We measure the worth of a hidden treasure by what we will gladly sell to buy it. If we sell all, we measure the worth as supreme.” – John Piper

Greg, Titus and I are leaving in just under two months for the country of Brazil. God has led us to sell all we own and leave our family and our country and we do so with joy. We are going because His worth is supreme, and because we want to make Him known in all the world. 

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.” Matthew 13:44 We have found this treasure, and it is worth losing all other things. 

This blog will be our primary means of keeping in touch. We will post prayer requests, pictures, and updates about our travels and adventures. If you would like to stay in touch, our ‘About Us‘ page will have more information on how to do so.

Savannah