Potty Talk

Photo commentary:
1.  This is one of those moments when Matt shakes his head and says, "Girls are such strange creatures."
2.  Yes, that is Emily combing Sarah's hair.
3.  At some point in time, Sarah will come to resent this picture.

Pre-post warning: if you can't handle potty talk, just stop reading, because that is all this post is about.

There are a few things I don't like about this country. I do not like intestinal viruses that creep into my body and give me diarrhea.  Especially when I am at the beach and it keeps me from having my morning walk the last day.  The dehydration that results from this illness coupled with too much heat and too little water (because you always have to buy it every time you want to drink it) sucks too. Also not on my top 10 list is the horrible fructose syrup my mother was dear enough to get me from the pharmacy because they don't have stores that are open 24 hours a day that sell Gatorade.  But I suppose it was better than going to the hospital. (If you want to know why, just read Sarah's story.)
I know, it sounds like I'm whining.  I'm actually not, it's just that at 3:30 this morning I became a bit reflective.  This happened because I had to get up in the middle of the night (again) because I still haven't kicked this problem.  And so, a few other things I don't like about this country all sort of converged into one unforgettable experience. 
As I was going about my business, I noticed that I had forgotten a very small, yet very important task before bedtime.  See, the showers all have drains that work very nicely to let water down during the day.  But at night, they also serve as a way for other things to come up.  Namely, cockroaches.  One of the other things I really do not like about this country.  So, noticing I had forgotten my chore, I placed the mat over top of the drain, looked around to see if there were any neighborly visitors, and finished my business.  This business includes the other thing I most dislike about this country.  (Matt and I agree on this one.)  See, the plumbing here is such that the water pressure isn't strong enough in most cases to flush toilet paper.  Thus, Brazilian bathrooms all have trashcans next to them where you dispose of your toilet paper instead of flushing it.  Having taken care of this I washed my hands and went back to bed where Emily was curled up. 
Unfortunately, I woke her up and she decided that she needed to go potty.  I noticed that she was heading to the bathroom barefoot.  (Rookie. There's a reason Brazilians wear their Havaianas everywhere.)  She turned the light on and began her business and all of a sudden I hear this soft squeal, "Maaaaaaameeeee!"  I knew exactly what was going on.  So I summoned all my courage, grabbed my Havaiana and said what my Mother had always said to me and never ever helped.  "It's ok honey, it won't hurt you!"  I stepped into the bathroom and saw Emily on the potty with her feet curled up around the toilet.  There below her on the floor was a cockroach impressive even by Brazilian standards.  It's body alone was over 3 inches long and it's antennas were a good two inches longer than that and it was scratching them together making a sound that makes you want to crawl out of your skin.  The cockroach made a beeline for the trashcan (of course!) and Emily saw her chance and made a run for it.  I tried to get it with my shoe, but it hid behind the can.  All our squealing woke Jean up and she came in to see what was going on.  "Cockroach," was all I said, and she grabbed my other Havaiana. But as she went after it, it scurried out of the bathroom and under the dresser in my bedroom.  We waited it out for a while, but decided to give up and go to bed. 
Em curled up next to me and said, "I finally found a bug I don't like." 
I lied there wide awake, knowing that I had blocked any access the cockroach might have to return to the underworld.  I also realized that given my illness and the fact that I had just lost a lot of fluid I should be drinking the bottle of Gatorade my mother had bought me now that we are back in Porto Alegre.  But I also knew that if I did, pretty soon, guess where I was going to have to go?
And suddenly it hit me...I'm ready to go home.  I miss my toilet, that flushes pretty white paper flowers.  I miss 24 hour grocery stores.  I miss my husband who surely would have braved the darkness to kill the evil cockroach so that I could take care of my business in safety.  (Or at least move the dresser.)  I miss my bed, which is at least 2 1/2 feet off the floor.  I miss Sam, who would have eaten the cockroach for a snack, or at least played with it until it's legs came off. 
So I decided that since I couldn't sleep, I would make a run for my Dad's study and write about it and maybe I would get tired enough to go back to sleep. 
Plus, it's closer to the other bathroom. 
And yes, in a sort of awkward way, I am typing with my feet up on the desk. 
And I am drinking my Gatorade...and I'm trying to suck up the courage to go to the bathroom before I go back to bed.
Here goes...

Louvor

Photo taken by Grace Ashley tonight (while the rest of us were listening to the sermon.)

Spittin out the remains of dirt left on my tongue.

The rocks that bouldered me under were oh-so-sure they'd won

But they're breaking apart, shifting plates, letting oxygen in.

I'm waking up, digging out, rising up again.

Finally feeling some sunlight, warm upon my skin.

Resurrection.

Christian and I singing at Sao Leopoldo.

There's so much I could say about tonight, so many connections and confirmations...but I think the picture at the top says what is most important, and as Christian sang for me tonight in Portuguese before we left, (cause he wanted to know if I knew the song),  it's All about You, Jesus.

Always has been, you know.

Igreja

When I arrived in Porto Alegre, I mentioned to my Mom that I would like to visit a Catholic church while I was here.  She mentioned that there was a beautiful one that Randy always takes visitors to here in Porto Alegre and so I thought I would visit that one.  But then one of Daren's students invited us to use a home they have in Canela for a few days and we decided to spend some time in the mountains.  Mom told me there was a gorgeous church there, so Jean and I went one morning to visit.  The church is over a hundred years old.  I had no idea what to expect, but I was overwhelmed with the depth of significance I met there.  I could explain, but instead, I thought I would just share some pictures with you.  That way you might be able to allow it to speak to you itself.  I took most of the pictures, but after taking some shots I gave my camera to Jean so that I could just drink it all in unhindered.  She took my favorite shot, mostly because it reminds me of John Smith's painting.  A group of people were rehearsing music for the service while I was in there.  At first it bothered me, because they were in the way of my pictures. After a bit, I realized that it made it feel a bit familiar.  And I was glad they were there.  So take some time with the pictures...have some church (igreja). 

Mary

Joan of Arc

Note: I would have gladly put information about the artists responsible for the beautiful paintings,

 but none was available. 

Draw Near

Most often when the Lord speaks a word to me, it is in the quiet, when I have prepared my spirit, usually when I am praying, reading sacred scripture or other writings, or simply seeking Him and listening carefully. But several years ago the Lord spoke a word to me in an odd setting. It came in the chaos of Chuck E. Cheese, with wild children, noisy machines, and singing mice. I was trying to keep track of my little ones and looked toward the window. It was getting dark outside and a restaurant on the other side of the parking lot was lit up.  My eyes glanced over the flag of Texas and the word came into my spirit very clearly. "You are the lone star." Later I realized it was the name of the restaurant I had been looking at. It was such an odd word. I really didn´t know what He was saying or why He had given it to me. Over the years I alternated between pressing in for an understanding and trying to leave it by the wayside. But though He was silent, I always felt I should honor its significance. Maybe He was just waiting for me to look at the sky from here.
I’ve always loved the night sky from this perspective. The stars always feel out of place to me in the States. When I look at the stars here, they feel like they're back where they belong, and I can easily locate my favorite constellations. Now I have a new favorite. The Southern Cross is unmistakable here. There are five stars in it. I thought there were four, but we went to the science museum yesterday and there was a section on Brazil's two most famous constellations-- As Tres Marias e O Cruzeiro do Sul. And there it was, a cross with five stars.  It jumped out at me right away when we got to the beach. I sat on the balcony of our beach condo and lost myself in it at night. It felt a bit like it was healing my sky.
While I was looking at it, the Lord said, "The stars are closer here." It's true. Seems if I get up on my tippy toes I could almost touch them. And the sky always seems to have more stars here. Matt says it's because there's less light pollution, but I think there must be more to it than that.
Daren gave me a beautiful necklace for Christmas. It's a silver chain with a black pearl pendant that has two stars suspended over it. It's gorgeous. It felt like it carried meaning. So I began to pray again about the lone star wondering if the Lord would open up its meaning for me. After a few days, He did.
There have been a number of times I have glimpsed a partial understanding...none of which seemed to lock in fully. At one point I really felt like He was telling me He had put my diamond in the sky. The symbol of betrothal--my very own engagement ring from Heaven. Remember? "Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky." Isn't it the most beautiful thought? Other times I thought perhaps it meant I would be alone. But that always came with the sense that He cares for each of His stars. Being a star alone isn't all bad. I mean, when you can only see one star, it's usually because it's the brightest in the sky.
Now that I understand a bit more, neither of these thoughts were really off the mark, but I didn't really understand how it applied to me and what God was teaching me about Him.
It started to open up to me when I heard a Portuguese expression. The word is actually so (pronounced saw) and it means only. Brazilians use it colloquially to mean, there is no other like it. Nothing can compare. For example, when it comes to buying flip-flops (chinellos), so (only) Havianas.
I don't know about you, but I have a hard time with this concept. A friend once quipped to me about God, "He says I'm the apple of His eye, but I heard he said that to the girl next door too." I remember feeling conflicted. It sounded so wrong, but actually there is a whole lot of truth in the statement. There is this sense throughout Scripture that God has His favorites: Israel, of course, His chosen. Then there is the Beloved Disciple as well. How can God love each of us as His only Love?  But that is what He aludes to over and over again.  It is as if God wants to communicate to each one of us that He longs for me like He does for no other, that He wants me to belong to Him and be with Him in an intimate way like no one else. And I believe we were made with a corresponding need to respond to Him. We were made with the same longing for Him. The sense that there is this hole in our heart that only He can fill, this missing part that only He fits. This place of final rest that is home with Him. We have a need to be together with Him, it is where we truly belong. It's a picture of the deepest intimacy two beings can share and yet He feels that way toward each and every one of His sons and daughters. We are somehow each, to Him, the Lone Star.
That is so hard for me to wrap my head around. I can't possibly imagine feeling that way toward more than one person. I don't think we were made to do that, but because He is God, He can and He does.
A few days after I arrived here, I went book rummaging. I always look for the oldest most tattered ones first. (I love old books but sometimes my allergies don't.) I found one that looked promising--published in 1918. It's my Grandfather's. (He said I could keep it!) It's called To Be Near Unto God by Abraham Kryper. I found his words incredibly insightful. He likened God's love to us as a Mother to her child.
He says we are "his child in a special way, in a personal relation different from that of his other children, even the closest relation conceivable in heaven and on earth. He who has not entered into this can not understand it. It extends further than his reach...But to be Near Unto God means such nearness to God as to see him with the eyes, to be aware of his presence in the heart, to hear him with the ear, and to have every barrier removed that thus far kept him aloof. To Be Near Unto God means to be near him in one of two ways: either to feel as though we were caught up into heaven, or as though God had come down to us in our loneliness, sorrow, or joy. The very word "near" implies that there is much that separates us from God and makes us solitary. When God is far away from us and we from him, it makes us desolate. It also implies that we are not contented, that we cannot endure it; that our whole heart goes out after him and will not rest until the last barrier is removed. For only when God is near unto us and we are near unto him is there blessedness again, which nothing can exceed, since it is unspeakably good to Be Near Unto God. This exceeding blessedness can only be enjoyed in rare moments here, but in the life to come it shall endure. For in the Father's house above we shall be near unto God forever and forever."
This idea is beginning to work its way into my mind, but I have to be honest and say that right now my heart still feels very distant. I actually understand why, but I haven't quite found a way to fully heal. You see, the journey God has taken me on through the past couple years is one in which He has asked me to walk the love of Christ, the way of suffering, the path of the crucifixion. It's one He eventually asks all of His followers to walk. And so the focus of my heart was to sacrifice, to bear up under, to lay down my life. This was my path, my school. Sometimes I was a very willing student, other times I felt God took me beyond my strength, beyond the life in me and I felt almost dead, unable to participate. Almost like I lost myself in a black hole... or maybe a tomb.
The difficulty for me was not an unwillingness to love or even to suffer, but that I began to feel that though God could love through me, there was no love of God for me. I remember feeling so deeply the lack of God's calling someone to love me like He called me to love others. I began to feel like God Himself did not love me. I'd walked through so much loss and been asked to show love through so much rejection that my soul began to feel deeply grieved. I began to wonder why God never brought along that kind of love to me. I felt a tomb slowly forming its way around me, and found myself wondering if something went wrong on Good Friday. My capacity to feel loved by God was numbed. People would often come to me with a word and say, "Do you know how much God loves you?" "Do you know that you are special?" "Do you understand what that means?" I would nod as the hollow cave in my soul threatened to swallow me up. My head knew all the right verses, but my heart began to feel like the Lover of my Soul had forsaken me. I felt used.
The turning away of the Father's face--the experience of complete desolation and the loneliness of feeling fully parted from the Father for the first time--it is by far the most difficult leg of the path. I wonder if Jesus ever fully recovered. I'd bet there is still a scar somewhere on his heart. Maybe about the length of the tear through the temple curtain.
I think that's why God told me about the Lone Star. He knew that I needed to know from Him. I needed to be reassured. He knew that when the sky went dark the brightest light could still show the way home.
I know that He loves me. I have been told and shown time and time again. I actually believe it in my head most of the time. I know that I love Him too. Though I know that, I don't often feel it...yet. You know what else I know, though? The depth of pain that blocks that feeling tells me how deep a love it really is.
I know healing takes time--and there's a lot of time left in forever.
That's what they say about diamond's you know...they are forever. 

"It is good to draw near unto God."

Psalm 73:28

"Draw near to God and He will draw near to you."

James 4:8

Photo from this Website.

The Southern Cross is the 5 star constellation in the bottom right corner of the photo.

Ilha do Pirata

This is one of the most fun things we have ever done.  When Daren suggested we take the Pirate Ship Excursion out to one of the islands I thought it would be fun for the kids, but probably a bit cheesy.  Actually it was SO much fun, and the pirates were so good at throwing a party.  The scenery was hands down the most beautiful I have ever seen with my own eyes.  The sea was this gorgeous green and the boats were so colorful.  The rocks and palm trees and birds were all just spectacular.  We talked Daren and Vive into going--they were hesitant because they get seasick--but they decided to take some Dramamine.  To our surprise, Johnney Depp was waiting for us when we arrived. 

He gave us lots of attention and the girls even got him to do a pirate dance.  I think he liked my pictures, so he gave me his e-mail...but then he leaned in real close and said, I think you are such a babe (loosely translated).  Gotta watch them pirates!  Forunately, he stayed on shore.  But there were plenty more pirates on the boat. 

This is when it got really fun.  This was the captain of the ship.  He let everybody know they could sit down and get seasick, or they could party and not even notice.  So they called everybody to the front of the ship and made it into a dance floor.  Seriously, you have never done the Macarena until you have done it on a Brazilian pirate ship on the open sea.  The girls liked YMCA the best, but then we got to do some Brazilian music.  Even a little Lambada.  (Well, we tried.)  I danced with Vivi and even Matt got down with the girls.  It was such a blast!

After we danced for a while the ship let down anchor and pulled out the lifejackets. It was time for a swim. You could go down the slide off the back or jump off the side of the boat. 

Daren went overboard.  Look how amazingly clear the water was.  It was so warm too.  Like bathwater.  The girls went down the slide and they plan was for Matt and I to jump off the boat together. Guess who jumped all by herself...I made him walk the plank after that!

After our short swim we made our way around to the Island. It is one of the only islands that is privately owned and is a Natural Preservation Site. We had some lunch and then Matt and the kids went for a swim while I took some pictures.


  

Matt and I went on a guided tour of a trail they had through the preserve.  I thought this was really interesting.  The palm tree killer.  A fig tree that grows up beside the palm tree, wraps its vines around it, then squeezes it to death.  Unlike Dad, who is always very careful with Mom.  We got back and the girls were dancing away to the music.  There is always some kind of music playing around here...

A few more pictures of Daren and Vivi--when you have 2 beautiful people in a beautiful setting it isnt hard to get great pictures.  We will make an album up for them later. 

The boat sounded its horn, so we had to convince the girls to get on board.  No problem--they could dance with swords!

The trip back was shorter and the sun was finally starting to melt into the mountains.  As I turned around to look back at the sea one more time before we left, I noticed it had taken this gorgeous mysterious tone I had never seen before.  The water looked golden.  Just a few boats settling in for the night.  So beautiful.  Perfect ending to a perfect day.

A Bitter Note

My next post was going to be about our island adventure, but last night kind of changed that a bit.  Viviane and her family invited us to their home for a churrasco last night.  We were so excited about getting to meet them and spending time with them.  The girls absolutely loved the fact that her father grows grapes and were having a great time eating right off the vines.  They have a little dog--the hotdog kind--and the dog took to me.  A little too much.  I noticed that he was following me everywhere, and always laying at my feet.  Matt and I were talking to Vinicio, Vivianes brother.  He is one of Darens English students and is an engineer for GM. I was petting Scooby and Sarah decided to come behind him and give him a hug.  He had been very friendly with the kids up until then.  Well, we think he got jealous and turned around and bit her in the face.  He bit right through her nose. 
It was pretty awful.  She was bleeding and traumatized by the dogs reaction to her.  Daren and Vive took Matt and I and Sarah to the hospital--the first one did not treat this kind of wound.  So then we went to a second hospital--which is basically just an Emergency Ward--where they finally did see us.  That was a bit of culture shock.  They do not have any curtains between the patients.  On the bed next to Sarah a guy was laying their with his head open and exposed while they stitched it shut.  On the other side of him was a little girl about Sarahs age who was screaming as they stitched up what looked like was her throat.  I did everything I could to keep her back turned to them so she couldnt see what was going on.  But she kept wanting to know why the little girl was crying. They finally cleaned the wound and said it would not require stitches, then told us that we would have to go to yet another pediatric clinic to get a tetnus shot.  It was about midnight before we got out of there. 
We made our way back to Vivis family and a very late dinner.  Such a wonderful family--they felt so bad--and I felt bad that they felt bad.  But they fed Sarah sausage, olives, and grapes and she was happy and dancing around until we left around 2AM. 
We are all exhausted and shaken, but God did take care of us.  But even though we were riding around the city in the middle of the night, I had a very strong sense of calm and peace that we would not be harmed.  Daren took great care of us too. He basically took his life in his own hands to get us water.  The pediatric clinic was in a very bad part of the city. He was so good about taking us all over and getting us where we needed to go.  On the way home he said, ok everybody--make sure you are buckled up because Uncle Daren cant stop at redlights at this time of night.  And I dont know what I would have done without Vivi.  She came in with me and traslated all the medical terminology and instructions I would not have understood very well.  Matt was very frustrated.  They would only let one parent go in and it was so hard for him not to be able to communicate and make sure that his little baby girl was getting the right kind of treatment. 
Sarah fell asleep in the car on the way home talking about Sammy and how Sammy is such a nice dog.  We all miss Sammy.  She slept through the night and now we have to watch closely for signs of infection and she will have to get another shot in three days. 
I am about ready to go wake Matt up so we can pack him up.  He leaves today for the States.  It was a bitter note at the end of his trip and I know that it will be very hard for him to leave Sarah right now.  So please pray for all of us. 
The picture above was taken two days ago in Gramado.  We had a wonderful time there and I will have to tell you about it soon.  But now to packing...

Feriado

In Portuguese, feriado means holiday.  So when you take ferias, it is like saying you are going to pass the holiday (or go on vacation).  We went to Florianopolis in Santa Catarina.  It is about an 8 hour trip by car from Porto Alegre, or 12 if you hit traffic...guess how I know that.  But the Brazilians say it is the only beach in Brazil.  In other words, once you go there, why go anywhere else.  We went to a city called Bombinhas which has several beaches, including one called Four Islands.  If you are standing on the shore you can see the four islands out in the distance.  It is absolutely gorgeous.  When the sun hits the water it turns it this beautiful turquoise green.  I never thought such depth of color really existed naturally.  I kept thinking...I never really thought I would see this type of beauty with my own eyes--like it is almost surreal.  What is most stunning about these beaches is that they are surrounded by rocks and mountains and gorgeous trees.  Beautiful palm trees.  The other thing I really enjoyed is that it lacked that hokey touristy feel so many places have.  I mean, they still cater to tourists--they bring you a table with food and drinks right to where you are sitting on the beach for about the cost of McDonalds--but it is all still very rustic and native to the culture. 
Matt hasnt had a vacation in two years, and I kept telling him when we got here it would be worth it.  And it was.  God really blessed us with the ability to enjoy a lot of things we would not normally be able to do and we just basked in His blessing. 
Here are some pictures of family fun at the beach...

Who knew they had moose on the beach...

That would be Matt...