Cheek this out

It seems Ava's tooth problem never really went away. You may remember her trip to the dentist. We finally took her back to the dentist, expecting to have to pull the tooth. The dentist seemed unconcerned, which didn't alleviate our own concern. The next day Ava developed swelling. The picture really doesn't do it justice. Her cheek was huge. Brin started her on antibiotics and she responded to it right away. Evidently it was an infection, probably beginning when she received the filling. We were glad the tooth did not have to get pulled. Again Ava has shown an incredible resilience. Between her ear infections and now her teeth, we're not sure what to make of her. But again, God has taken care of us. Thanks for your prayers.

Are you going to use your nursing?

Agua Preta.

A small village where we set up "clinic." In the picture you see the Igreja da Vinha our mission works with. This village has no running water (unless you count the river) and no electricity. To have lights for our evening service they pulled electricity from our boat.

PROBABLY.

Before we left for Brazil people back home liked to ask me if I was going to use my knowledge in health care. I assumed I would because, quite simply, it was the only skill I had. Nine months later, I haven’t done a whole lot. Except for dealing with my family’s random infections (currently Ava’s is pitiful, more on that later) and neighbors that stop in for a quick assessment and free medication, my nursing skills have been minimal. I haven’t sutured anyone. That’s good because I don’t know how. I haven’t delivered a baby or set a broken bone. I haven’t done a lick of health education, which is what I really would be up for.

So this past weekend I was enthused to wet my feet. What Josh didn’t talk about in that last post was the “clinics” we set up in each of the river villages we visited. This trip we traveled with Tim, another missionary and also a MD. At each place we went we sent word that there was a doctor available and of course, the people came. We were up to our necks with scabies, worms and back pain; thankfully not literally. I still didn’t do much. I spent most of my time attempting to understand the Portuguese with people who were missing a lot of teeth. I also had to relearn basic medicine. We weren’t dealing with complex cases or people requiring high level of technology, which is what I know. It was the basics, how to treat the most people with what basic medication you have on hand. So between the Portuguese and primitive healthcare, I had a lot to learn. But what I was able to grasp was the need. Many people were just grateful to have someone listen to their health concerns, especially mothers who brought in sick kids. Many people had headaches and back pain but cannot stop working, however intense the pain. They were the ones who were happy just to get a small fistful of ibuprofen. Seriously, that’s how simple it was. And there were stories of people living remotely with somewhat serious problems. At times my mind was stretched attempting to understand their language and my heart pricked as they shared their difficult life. After they were done talking with us, what was super cool is that each of them was brought before God in prayer by a group of visitors from Ohio.

I am often amazed at the basic level to which we interact with Brazilians. We see a need; we attempt to meet it. Praying that they will recognize God’s love for them as we daily live as Disciples of Christ.The Xingu Mission does not have an organized medical ministry yet. All medication and supplies that we use are donated by individuals. If there are those of you working in the healthcare field that have access to samples, outdated equipment, or mass quantities at discounted prices or really anything, it will be put to use. This past weekend we went through a ton of Tylenol, ibuprofen, Chewable Tylenol and ibuprofen, and anti-fungal cream. But really anything is appreciated. You can email me if you have some suggestions or questions.

God of Wonders

Here is a Brazilian pioneer and her daughter.

The hike to remote homes.

For the first time, we rode on the boat along with 4 motorcycles.

Naldo, one of the pastors doing river work, recently went to new area to share the gospel. After only two visits several people had accepted Christ. Last week a work team was here from Ohio and we had planned to take them to this new community to do a service. Our family was able to go along on the 3-day trip…
The community we visited was made up of homesteads. The Brazilian government gives out tracts of land for homesteading, if the family can begin to produce crops or livestock the land becomes theirs. It is a difficult life. The land is usually very remote, often with no electricity or access to roads. This area was no different. It was situated about 3 kilometers off the river and the only roads were for motorbikes. To help with the task of moving our gear, as well as freeing us up to meet with some families farther away, we took 4 motorbikes on the boat.
After we shuttled the people and gear, 8 of us set off to find a family who’s daughter had accepted Christ the last time Naldo visited, and asked him to return to tell her family about Christ. After a stunning ride through rolling Amazon ranchland and old-growth virgin jungle, the road came to an end at a pasture. We spent about 20 minutes hiking around, retracing our steps a few times, searching for the family’s house. I have to admit, it seemed a little surreal, trudging around in the jungle, looking for a house of a family who wanted us to tell them about Jesus.
We finally found it, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. We met the family, and after some small talk, Naldo asked if it was true that they wanted to hear about Jesus (they answered with a nervous yes). Understanding much of what he said, I listened as he explained the importance of a relationship with Christ and not adherence to a certain religion. They agreed to pray to accept Christ (the father, mother and a young girl), we all prayed with them and for them. And then we left, eager to get back before dark and in time for the evening service.Naldo plans to visit as often as he can to continue to teach them and encourage them. I wonder what will ever come of that family. It seems the cards have been stacked against them. Then I remember Naldo’s story. He was a drunk and a troublemaker. After a knife fight where he sustained a wound to the chest, he ran away from his assailant and stumbled into a church. His life has never been the same.

"Wide-open Spacious Living" (2 Cor.6:11 MSG)

Several people have told us that our old house in Tremont is back on the market. It feels like a lifetime ago that we were there and so it really didn’t arouse any cares. Until last night at 2:00 in the morning, I cried over, of all things, my old house. I can’t say if it is the house itself, or my old life of ease and comfort and predictability that caused such agony but it hurt nonetheless.

So this morning I am reading from 2 Cor 6 in The Message. “Staying At Our Post” is the heading. The apostle Paul begs his readers to not waste the life God has called us to and grace He gives. People are watching us as we are “immersed in tears, yet always filled with deep joy; living on handouts, yet enriching many; having nothing, having it all.” And people are watching, I sob as I write this even knowing Marilda is right outside my door and Beto will be arriving any moment. At the moment, I just cannot grasp how I can get past this to go through today, and everyday, freely and expansively. I just cannot wrap my brain around eternity. I am pathetic and I know those feelings are not from God. I think I just need a little time to work through it. We leave tomorrow for 3 days of river work so I hope that’s enough time.

House Guests

After living at the Simon’s house for nearly 9 months without seeing an anaconda, we were understandably disappointed. Because of the proximity to a swampy creek behind their house, Bud says they usually see at least a couple every year, so we had our hopes up.

The Bergen house has a different creature, tarantulas, which Brin has been less excited about encountering. For some reason, they like the higher, dryer ground that the Bergen house is situated on. Not only a month into our stay at the Bergen’s and we’ve met our first Tarantula. It was harmlessly sitting on the side of a tree. But since it was only feet away from the house, we chose to end it’s life.

I suppose if we had to find one, outside on a tree is about the best location you could hope for. It beats some of the other encounters we’ve heard from other missionaries: finding one in a pant leg after pulling up your pants or having one fall off the ceiling onto you while laying in bed.

Brin reacting to the tarantula.

The Jambos are Falling

So we've been in our new digs for a little over a week. The Bergen's house is large and comfortable, but not without it's adjustments. The first night we heard what sounded like the thud of footsteps outside our window. After some investigation we learned it was fruit falling from the trees. It seems our move here has coincided perfectly with jambo season.

Jambos, smaller than an apple and sweet like a strawberry, have been falling ever since from the four large jambo trees. Occasionally neighbors come by asking to pick them, two boys left the other day struggling under the weight of a large shopping bag full the brim with Jambos.


Yesterday, I climbed one of the trees and shook some branches while Ella and Ava held a blanket trying to catch them. We must have looked ridiculous, and the girls were complaining the whole time about the fruit hitting their heads instead of the blanket, but fortunately I don't think anyone saw us. We had heard that Jambos make an excellent crisp. We were not disappointed. I think I'll make another journey up the Jambo tree today, but this time we'll reach perfection because I'm going to buy to a gallon of ice cream to go along with it.

altered self

I've been tagged by my friend Jane to pen some thoughts on myself, so keeping on the subject on change, here is how I find myself altered...

• Something must have changed in my pitters because my imported anti-perspirant doesn’t work as well as it used to. I think Bristol-Myers should do their research in my steamy jungle.

• Once repelled by the thought of being a home schooling mom, I now enjoy it

• I don’t find my worth in my job or my relationships or how great my hair is on any particular day. I am of value because I am a creation of God.

• Being face-to-face with poverty. How it cannot change someone is not of question, the unanswered question is what my role is to combat it.

• Doing much less than what I have been trained in, and in the same breathe, more than what I have been trained in. I once was an RN in a Pediatric ICU now I am a teacher for ESL students.

• My arms are getting nicely toned. Partly because I drive an old Landcruiser with no power anything and often just driving it around town, avoiding the horse drawn trailers, wears me out. It’s an old, tough machine, when we got a single bulb installed to use as an interior light I clapped in delight. Back on the subject of my arms, one day I woke up and noticed how sore my biceps were, after a few moments I recalled carrying 8 kg sugar and flour home from the store the day before.

• Not getting to choose my own friends. There are now 8 North Americans living in my town. Slim-pickens. They are my friends and teammates. And I can see how God orchestrates these relationships for His purpose. And how much better is that than choosing relationships on my own bias.

• I, like my friend Jane, have formed an affinity for mayonnaise. In Brazil we mix it with ketchup (or what they call ketchup) and put it on our pizza and french fries. I also love to eat eggs on pizza as well.

• Treating my family and myself for worms every 3 months. Whether we know we have parasites or not. We assume one of us does.

• Back in my comfortable, controlled environment back in America I would jump or quickly brush off anything I felt crawling on my skin. Now, I just assume it is an ant and ignore it until it starts to tickle me, or discover it is not actually an ant but some other bug.

• Always having people around. It seems that there are always people in my house. Alone time is rare. I have the tiresome feeling that I am always being watched, studied. Whether it is true or not that is how I feel.

Thats it for now, change is inevitable so there will be more to come. Perhaps you've noticed change in me that I cannot verbalize myself or haven't even noticed yet. At any rate...Jill Inman, Kelsie Bergquist, you've been tagged. ~bzp