What is good?

There is a strange gap in my memory after I struck the dog and then became aware of my body sliding to a stop on the road.  I don't think I blacked out, I just have no memory.  As I came to my senses, my initial concern was for my left arm that was extended above my head.  I have a bad shoulder that is easily dislocated; over the years I've learned how to manipulate it back into place.  I slowly lowered my left arm with my right, preparing to put it back into place, but realized it was not dislocated.  I assumed the discomfort I felt in my shoulder was evidence that my shoulder had dislocated, but returned on it's own.  There was a soreness, but nothing that made me think anything was broken.  Next I assessed my legs, nothing was broken.  My chin was bleeding and I realized I had broken some molars (which at first I thought was gravel).  But all in all I felt thankful that I was essentially able to walk away from the crash (albeit limping).

Riding in a strangers car back to the city, I remember looking out the window with a grateful heart.  I thanked God for protecting me, for sparing me from more critical injuries.  More than a week later I am now struggling to have that same thankful heart.  The seriousness of my injuries have changed somewhat.  I have broken bones both in my shoulder and chin, and my knee may have some ligament damage (not a professional assessment, I see the orthopedic doctor tomorrow).  But does any of that change the reality that God is in control and deserves my thanks?

I've been reading in Acts about the early church.  What really was the hangup that many of the Jews had with Jesus?  Among other things, it was essentially they were looking for a messiah as they desired him to be.  They wanted to be saved on their terms.  I have come to realize that I do the same thing with Jesus.  I want him to "save" me from the difficulty, pain and disappointment of this life; when He doesn't I feel let down, even disillusioned.

Faith seems to have as much to do with trusting in how God works as in who God is.  It's easy to believe in a God when His will and our own lines up, but the moment His plan diverges from ours, we question where He is.  My personal faith struggle comes down to this: Do I believe God is good?  To clarify, am I willing to allow God to define "good"?  Declaring that God is good is easy, until I decide His goodness is not what I had in mind. 

I'm still in the midst of this lesson.  I'm learning what it means to trust Him.  I'm taking some cues from the writer of Ps. 118:1,2:

O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;

his steadfast love endures forever!

Let Israel say,

"His steadfast love endures forever."

Let me say, "His steadfast love endures forever."

 

Josh and the motorbike accident

 

Josh was in a motorcycle accident this past weekend. Here is an update on how he is doing as well as the full story of what happened, as I have been told….

The TransAmazon  

 

On Saturday morning Josh left with Allison to do a weekend of church meetings and discipleship in the community of Surubim, a ranching and farming community in the bush about 4 hours outside of Altamira. While traveling by motorcycle on the TransAmazon highway, a large dog ran suddenly into the path of Josh’s motorcycle, pitching Josh’s body onto the hard clay and rock road surface. He can’t remember how he landed or really much at all after having the dreadful awareness of the dog. He never lost consciousness and when Allison found him he was able to talk and even sit up. They waited while 2 trucks sped past them. Allison explained that travelers on the TransAmazon are leery of stopping or even slowing down for fear of robbery. An injured duo would make a fabulous ruse, I suppose. So, Josh rode on the back of Allison’s motorcycle and they headed back towards Altamira. When they arrived at the river crossing, they had to wait for a car going their direction to act as an ambulance to take Josh into Altamira. The ferry came and went twice, until finally a van carrying workers from a local electric company arrived and transported Josh to the hospital.

Josh lacked mobility of his left arm and had a deformity on his shoulder blade so an x-ray was ordered that evidenced a scapula fracture. He also had a decent gash under his chin that needed stitches. That was about the time that I made it to the hospital. I watched as the technician cleaned the wound and cut out the loose tissue, and then remembering that Josh also broke at least 4 teeth, the technician probed his finger in further to feel Josh’s lower jaw bone. It wasn’t right, so back to radiology we went. The x-ray technician had actually left the building already so when he was called back for us, he gruffly asked. “What? Did you fall?” Essentially, the  jaw x-ray has been inconclusive, but clinically Josh can talk, bite down, and has some mobility and strength so right now we are waiting for the swelling to go down and then reevaluate. Despite that much of his pain was (and still is) in his left leg, all the x-rays of his leg came back clean. 

Josh when he first arrived home.
He had to make his own sling out of the long-sleeve tee he was wearing.

So I took him home. And it was a crazy night. First of all, the whole time at the hospital, no one listened to his lungs; no one took a pulse or questioned him about abdominal pain. All of those things being standard of care for almost any accident, but especially when an accident occurs of such force that could break the scapula. They let us go home without antibiotics, pain meds or even any advice on what to expect the coming days. They told me to see an Orthopedic doctor and an oral surgeon, and that was about it. It didn’t scare me, because honestly I wanted him at home where I could make the decisions and where he would be comfortable. The hospital we were at is horribly uncomfortable, at one point all I wanted was a towel to drape over Josh’s shoulder but I knew that would be a ridiculous request. Since he is at home, I can go to the pharmacy myself and get the best meds available, I could have our MD neighbor up the hill give me a second opinion and I called Tim in Porto de Moz and emailed Josh’s childhood friend Dan (an ortho doc) in Africa to give me advice. Later today I ached for the many people who don’t have those options, who can’t go home to a comfortable bed with a mountain of pillows and do not have support people who can just drop whatever they are doing (I was at a women’s retreat) and they don’t have any money to buy medication or see a specialist. And I was flooded with emotion, utterly grateful to have my husband alive (I kissed his helmet. And on a side note I have to wait 15 days to kiss his mouth.), thankful to be able to care for Josh and yet troubled for others who find themselves in Josh’s same predicament without the same care options.

It is kinda hard to see what God is up to here. Something, certainly. Josh and I had been planning this weekend for a while. The women’s retreat was actually a powerful ministry put on by our church called Encontro, which translates to “Encounter.”  Participants are given an entire weekend to search for God and His calling on their lives. I have been desiring to go for at least a year and the dates never worked out until this month, which I thought to be Divinely remarkable timing since Josh and I are using this month to pray specifically about our future with a new base. I was there 17 hours when Steve and Patty arrived to tell me about the accident and take me to the hospital. Those 17 hours were powerful and I learned so much about myself and God, strangely though, nothing to do with the new base. I have yet to share with Josh because, as you would imagine, other details have center stage.

So that is the update. Josh spends most his time in bed, self-medicating with ESPN.COM when it streams well. He can ambulate to the bathroom and sit on a chair in the shower. He drinks smoothies and takes codeine.That is about it. I find it humorous that he is stuck at home again (remember Dengue December?). My idea, which I am positive is correct, is that God is telling him to stay home more. Just kidding about that; sort of. But seriously, I admit I am having some significant emotions and a fair amount of deep reflections, however fragmented they are at the moment. I just can’t seem to put them into words. Give me some time. And Josh will give you his take too. Later though. It was rather bizarre watching Josh contort his body and use one hand to type a 2 line update on Facebook.

Thank you all for your prayers. Thanks for the prayers before his weekend even began and for the prayers after his accident. We are so humbled to know so many of you bring us before God. And the emails and Facebook messages are truly encouraging. We thank God for all of you.

Map of Atalaia

I've had several people ask me to provide a map showing the location of Atalaia and the region we visited.   Some of you may have stumbled upon the beautiful, coastal, resort town of Atalaia in the state of Pará; Brin wanted me to assure everyone that we are NOT referring to that Atalaia.

  

The first map shows where the area is in relation to all of Brazil, the second is the detailed area in the red box.

 

I've tried to identify a few important cities on the map below. 

The blue region is Brazil, pink is Peru and beige is Colombia. 1)  Atalaia do Norte - the city we visited and would potential have our base, 2)  Benjamin Constant - 30 min. by road from Atalaia, because of it's size (30,000) it offers a large variety of supplies and would be an important because of it's proximity to Atalaia, 3) Tabatinga -  30 min. by boat from Benjamin, the largest Brazilian city in the area (50,000), has an airport with daily flights to Manaus, 4)  Leticia - a Colombian city just across the border from Tabatinga.  

Note that the Amazon flows from the interior of Peru, then cuts between Benjamin Constant and Tabatinga, and then continues off the map to the east.  The border of Peru and Brazil is marked by the Javari river, upon which we traveled, stopping at communities on both sides of the border.

somethings's brewing

~post by Brin

Josh arrived home from the exploratory trip to Amazonas and stayed in town for 15 hours before he left again on a boat trip up the Xingu.  That was 15 hours to get caught up on emails, consume 2 healthy meals, sleep in his own bed, have a clean shower, pack and then he was off for another outing. This time the whole family traveled together on a boat trip led by Agostinho and his boys, Emerson and Allison.  The trip went quite well, with 2 church meetings under the mango tree (Is there a better place for church? I think not.), a childrens program, and plenty of conversation while butchering a cow for a neighborhood barbecue.  And by neighborhood I mean “neighbors”10 km away that canoed/boated in for the afternoon.

 A riverside barbecue with fresh beef. Everyone, including the dogs, got into the act.

 Afternoon meeting with all the neighbors in the shade of a mango tree.

Go here for more pictures of the boat trip to Marituba.

Those few hours we had in Altamira were not sufficient to hear about all that Josh encountered in Amazonas, so Josh and I used our boating time to relax in our hammocks, spill out everything that happened for each of us the previous 9 days, and experience some soul-deep companionship. Sometimes the immensity of all going on with us, both in our physical lives and spiritual as well, can sometimes overwhelm us and leave us saying things like, “I am not sure what that means.” Or “I can’t say for certain what I think about that.” It is a weird place to be in, this reality filled with unknowns. It being mixed with anticipation, mystery, adventure and, I am pleased to say, a peace that doesn’t make sense in light of the undecided state of our futures.

While on the boat, Mia celebrated her 6th birthday. The girls love it when their birthday fall on boat trips because it makes for a memorable event.  A tradition has even begun; we blow up some balloons and float them out on the river in front of a home for a child to find. It is really quite delightful. The most challenging part is decorating the cake on a moving boat with choppy waters. 

Mia the new 6 year old posed by her cake.

Go here for more pics of Mia's birthday on the boat.

We returned from our 3 day boat trip at 3pm on Monday afternoon. Just in time for Josh to take a shower, check some emails, and pack.  Seven hours later he was heading for Belem to participate in some meeting with Xingu Mission leaders. He comes home on Friday and I just want to smother him with my feelings, thoughts and random ideas of everything whirling around me. But if there is anything Josh has been lacking, it would be space.

Before we left on the boat trip, the Friday night of Josh’s arrival I had CDR’s first Alpha Circle meeting. A large attendance caught me off guard and we will see where God takes the group this year. I was mostly pleased to see some of the regulars from last year come again and enthused to jump in with activities. Most of my effort this semester will be put into a select few Brazilians who I will train up to take over leadership next semester. This involves turning over responsibility, letting them make mistakes or go a different direction. This can be arduous. It would be much easier if I did it all myself, mostly because I love it and also because it requires much less effort on my part. I constantly have to remind myself of my decision because my default nature would just plow ahead and wait for everyone to follow.

Our goal for the month of March, or what is left for it, is to wait. The wait will involve quieter days where we will lean in and strain our hearts to hear His whispers. It will involve centering of our spirits to be sensitive, open and employed on the task of responding to His promptings. For my heart personally, the waiting time will be used to concentrate on each day itself, instead of letting my delicate heart meander through the myriad of possibilities of our future.

So, I close out this post with something that happened to me yesterday. I went to make a cup of afternoon coffee, I do not usually do this, but then again, I am not usually running a household by myself for 2 weeks.  I broke the carafe. Now, mind you, this carafe is a Mr. Coffee from Walmart, pretty dang special. I berated myself like I am good at doing. I told God, that it would have been nice to have been spared an agonizing (and very likely, unprofitable) day of searching Altamira for a replacement carafe. And my mind hastily took inventory of my options; give up coffee (yeah right), order on-line and wait forever for its arrival, or make coffee stovetop with a sock filter. Sarcastically I lamented, if I have to make coffee in a sock the Brazilian way, well then I am jumping in all the way and I am gonna bath in the river with just my bra on. It was a bummer. Options were incredibly slim, probably costly and I was grieved (and tired, which was why I wanted coffee in the first place). Not but 10 minutes later, a veteran missionary, Marsha, stops by my house. I use the drop-in to ask about where I should head first to find a replacement. A first she shakes her head sympathetically, “not likely to find one here,” the shake said.  But then she perked up. She just might have a spare and an hour later we were standing in my kitchen admiring my new stainless steel (read: much prettier and less likely to break) carafe that perfectly fit my 8-12 cup coffee maker.  I realized I was experiencing God’s provision in a situation that had originally deemed a big headache (literally if I gave up coffee; that is a whole other issue.) God has me covered in the big picture of my life and the little details.  And later at Kinship we read that God has our futures already prepared, immeasurably more than we can ask. I joked that I was immeasurably blessed with my perfectly measured pot of coffee. And to add to my awestruck provision, Marsha doesn’t even drink coffee. When her husband makes a pot, he usually uses a sock.

Reflections on the Javari

The Javari River cuts a serpentine channel through the jungle.  Often doubling back on itself, glimpses of the river ahead can be spotted through the jungle.  Arriving at that point, however, requires following a long curve that leads far out of the way.  Manel, our guide and boat captain, would often head straight for the river's edge where a channel through the jungle would suddenly open.  These channels would cut through the jungle saving valuable time and fuel, and the towering jungle canopy would provide a respite from the scorching sun.

The Javari River

Through our 9-day trip we sought to explore the region and learn if there was both spiritual and physical needs, but more importantly to seek God's leading on our lives.  I remember reading that anti-terrorism agencies often recognize "chatter" as evidence of an impending attack.  In the absence of clear evidence, different sources may produce evidence that when seen alone is inconclusive, but when viewed collectively it paints a picture of a possible attack, this overwhelming evidence is "chatter".  In this same way, we experienced through conversations and situations this same kind of mounting evidence pointing to God doing something big.  What that means for our future remains to be seen.

Talking to the locals in one of the many Peruvian villages.

Our plan was to travel up-river one day and take 3 days to travel back down, stopping at communities along the way.  Thus we would get a firsthand look at the size and number of communities, presence of any existing churches, and the physical needs of the people.  Stopping at nearly 20 villages (ranging in size from 40-460 people), we found only 2 evangelical churches.  Living mostly in thatched roof houses, their physical needs equaled their spiritual needs.  Our initial thoughts were that we could possibly help in the areas of health and medicine, mosquito nets to prevent malaria (the area has the highest malaria rate in all of Brazil), and water purification.

This fillet was cut from a Piraracu, a large Amazonian fish prized for it's delicious meat.

We stopped in this village and 

spent the night in an empty house

We were warmly welcomed and enjoyed interacting 

with the locals in each place we stopped.

Returning to the town of Atalaia, where our mission base would be located, we continued to seek information about the region.  Countless times we felt like God orchestrated meetings with important contacts.  One such encounter with a single woman who works in the area told us how an American church had donated money to buy a boat to be used for medical trips to the interior.  She wrote them back saying she had no one to send on these trips.  They advised her to keep the money and they would pray that God would send medical personnel.  Realizing that our group could potentially have a doctor and nurse, she concluded that God may be answering these prayers through us.

 Clyde and I talk with the director of the hospital and a worker, the director is on the phone setting up another meeting for us.

This is a gas station in Atalaia, gas is purchased in Peru because it is much cheaper, and sold in 2 liter Coke bottles from roadside stands.

So we are now home, back with our wives, trying to process all that we saw.  Like the shortcut channels we took through the jungle, we often can't see God's path until He reveals it at the last moment.  Please pray with us as we seek the Father and calling for our lives.  And that we would be faithful to go where ever He leads.

Click here for more pictures from our trip.

Stranded

On our way to the airport today, I got a call that our flight was cancelled and that our trip would be extended another day.  I have to believe, after all we´ve experienced of God opening doors, being stranded in Tabatinga is part of His plan.

Over the past week, fellow missionaries Clyde Bergquist and Tim Kubacki and I, have been exploring a remote area of the Amazon where we believe God may be leading us to start a new work.  Tim had visited the area several months ago, but we wanted to do a follow-up trip to explore more of the interrior to see what the reality of the river communties were.   Traveling up-river in a rented boat, we found several river communities, some in Brazil and some in Peru, dotting the riverbanks.  What we found confirmed that it is a very needy and unchurched area. And it was striking to see how God lined up so many encounters with people along the way.

We leave tomorrow with a good picture of what this region looks like, and not a little excitement of what could be.  The enormity of the task of picking up and moving to such a remote region is daunting.  Our one desire now is that God will reveal to us if this in fact is where He is calling us and that we would have the trust to follow if He is.