27 June 2004

A heart for home

I talked to a good friend the other day, and I began to realize that my heart is broken for Americans. Not the country, but its people. So many have heard the gospel and decided to reject it. I'm not sure if it's our country's individual mindset ("my right to do what I want when I want where I want") or the lack of true disciples within the church, or even the exclusivity of the church and some of its entities, but it makes me sad all the same.
Paul says it this way in Romans: "Brothers, my heart's desire and prayer to God for the Israelites is that they may be saved." (Romans 10:1) His ministry was to the Gentiles -- his call was to spread the gospel to those who were not Jewish, yet his heart still broke for those who were Jewish who were not saved, for they were his ancestors and family. My call is to preach the gospel to Brazilians, yet I desire for my ancestors and fellow countrymen to come to the knowledge of the gospel. They have heard it; why don't they want it? I am afraid that God has hardened the hearts of the people as He did to Pharoah. I am afraid that Americans, as a whole, have squandered the opportunity to say yes to God with their entire lives. I am afraid that they are deceived into thinking that everything has to be right before they can approach the cross. That is a lie. Nothing can be made right until we approach the cross, for it is there that Christ laid down His life for all who would believe in Him.

24 June 2004

Praise God! The luggage is in one piece and in my possession.

22 June 2004

Good grief!

I'm not sure that everyone wanted me to return to Brazil. I missed a connection in Miami (because of a flight delay due to weather), so I rebooked my flight for a different airline. I had to RUN (yes, run with carry-on baggage in hand) from terminal H to terminal B, with a stop at terminal D on the way. I made the flight, but my checked luggage is floating around in space somewhere. I was sent to about 3 different places in Miami, and again this morning when I got to Rio. The former about my ticket, and the latter about my bag. Hmmm. Lots of trouble to go through just to make it back. I have to keep reminding myself that this IS where I am supposed to be. Not Atlanta, not Birmingham, but Rio. No matter how frustrating, no matter how comfortable or uncomfortable, Rio is my God-given home for the next few months.
Of course, some of this attitude is frustration at the airlines and the weather, and some is because I am just plain worn out. I'm not even sure what I am still doing up.

16 June 2004

Culture shock

I have returned to the States for a week, and I'm already in culture shock (I've been here less than 24 hours). It was very disconcerting to be walking around the airport today and hearing only English. I'm not sure I like that. I've only been gone a month, for goodness' sake! What am I going to be like when I return in November?

01 June 2004

Cats were born to play soccer

I really think so. We have 2 cats, George and Samantha, who are pretty cool (though Samantha got me up at 4:30 a.m. yesterday to let her out). As I sit here in the office and type my e-mails, the cats wander in and out as they please -- they think they own the place!
There's a little bouncy ball (you know, the kind that comes with jacks) in here, and as soon as they find it, they bat it around with their paws, which I know is cat instinct or something, but I swear, it looks like they're trying to play soccer. I guess it's fitting, seeing as how soccer (futebol) is practically the national sport here in Brazil. Kids don't play backyard football games. They play soccer. Any place will serve as a soccer field, and anything will serve as a soccer ball. And so, if one kid is kicking something around, the rest will come. Flip-flops, bare feet, and all.

The dumbest thing....

ever about going to the grocery store in Brazil is this: the carts don't fit through the lanes. You know, when you go in the States and get ready to check out, you take everything through to the other side, cart and all? Well, the lane is barely wide enough for my hips -- and I'm not fat! A grocery cart sure isn't getting through there, even the shrunken ones for those of us who don't have a lot of groceries to buy. And so, the area just prior to checkout is littered with grocery carts of all sizes. And people with their groceries, just waiting in line....