A change of scenery

Waiting to board the plane while Tim completes his preflight inspection.

For those long time followers out there, you may have noticed an absence of Josh authored blog posts.  I've sat down to write a few times, but not much came from it.  Since changing ministries in 2011, I've found it harder to find topics to write about.  It's not that my life is suddenly boring, I really enjoy what I do.  But who wants to read a blog on the latest Annual Inspection we've done at the hangar?  Me either.  The other day I got the opportunity  so I loaded up my camera and jumped in the plane...

It was just a day trip, a quick stop in a couple villages that our leadership is evaluating as possible locations for us to begin visiting with Health Clinic Teams in our mission's boat.  It reminded me of the many survey trips that I had made with fellow missionaries in the past.  Traveling by plane did make the trip a bit different in one regard - in less than 3 hours of flying we covered what would have taken over 40 hours in a boat.  

I was able to see a side of the ministry that I usually miss out on when my head is under the cowling of an airplane.  Here are a few pictures that I took and some things that impressed me:

Arara, the first community we visited, was well developed by Amazonian standards. The two main streets were actually paved even though a car had probably never driven on them.

You don't arrive in a river community in an airplane unnoticed.  The young boys especially were very interested in the plane.  I told one boy that he should stand right behind the plane when we start up and he would feel a blast of air, he followed through on my suggestion and wore a big grin the whole time.

Marco (with backpack) and Eunice (blue shirt to his left) are both leaders in Asas, they spent most of the time talking to leaders of the communities, pastors, and health workers trying to get a feel for the needs and welfare of the residence.

At the community's health post we found this all too common scene,a boy laying on a cot unresponsive, his parents the only people at his side.  No doctor or nurse in the village meant that he would have to be transported to a staffed health post several hours away by boat.  

As I walked around the community I met a boy named Allison, the name of my friend from Altamira who has joined me on many trips to the interior over the years.  I missed my friend so I bought little Allison a Coke.

The second community we visited was more what I was used to, about 12 families living on the bank of a river in a region that seems to offer very little.  Welcome to Novo Sonho (New Dream).

The only income in Novo Sonho was day wages from a local rancher when he needs the help. They say it is nearly impossible to grow crops because of the cattle grazing. 

 I'm not sure if Novo Sonho was the dream that its residence had hoped it would be.  From the looks on their faces they appeared to live a hard life.

I wonder what the people thought as we swooped in with our questions and cameras and left just as fast.  I am sometimes cynical about short term trips that just seem to offer a bandaid to a problem so much more complex than we can imagine.  But then our pilot Tim shared with me about a nearby community that we had been working in for several years.  A church from a large city in southern Brazil who had been partnering with us decided to adopt this community as their ministry.  They sent several teams to help with health needs, build a church, and do other outreaches.  A woman from one of those teams decided to move to that community and work with them full time.  She now teaches at a community school, works with church leaders and is reaching out to several other communities in the area.  An intern from the sending church went to help her this past year and now the intern just recently committed to staying long term to continue the work as well.  And the catalyst was a short-term trip from a church with long-term love.

So I suppose we can look at the little we are able to do and throw up our hands saying it's not going to change anything.  Or we can continue to give what little we have and watch to see how God multiplies that.  

I think I'm going to stick with working on airplanes, but it was refreshing to see that although the problems seem insurmountable, we have a God who is bigger - but more than that, He chooses to use what little we have to further His kingdom.  Whether that is turning a wrench, visiting a needy community to offer temporary relief and hope, or leaving our home and family to work permanently among the "least of these". 

When you think of the tropics, you probably think of the lack of seasons.  Hot and wet all the time.  In some ways that is true.  The average high temperatures from January to July is 87 degrees, from August to November it jumps up to 92 degrees.  We're talking a 5 degree swing.  That surely does not qualify as a season does it?  I grew up in the midwest where the high temp average in January is 45 and in July 90.  That's what I call a season.
Seasons are more than just temperature change.  I can still hear the neighbor kids laughing and playing outside in the summer  twilight, while I laid in bed because my 9:00 bedtime had arrived.  Here where we live 3 degrees from the equator, sunset fluctuates about 30 minutes throughout the year.  But I'm beginning to understand that the

My office window borders jungle on 2 sides. And besides the dusty spiderweb curtains it is a cheerful view Birds chirping, bugs buzzing, and occasional monkeys hooting and screeching   I will stop work to watch the monkeys. And I used to have an iguana that frequented a certain tree. But what really distracts me are the butterflies and unfortunately I have a lot. Not to brag or anything. And in my 3rd science class, on the topic of botany, we refer to those guys as visitors. They are the unwitting couriers of pollen from one plant to another.
I am a courier too. Sometimes I bring hope when I point out that a dim, dreary unknown might actually be God blowing refreshing winds of change. Or maybe I bring joy when I give in to the girls and play with them in the rain.  Maybe I make people laugh, although that is usually Josh. Hold up- I am not saying I did any of those things. But I am pretty sure I cuoureid envy. And I courried trouble to others that really was my own making. I dream utterly unattainable results and then courie expectations that others simply cannot fulfill.

As us humans go throughout our days, I would venture to guess that the majority of communication is superficial, work related, small talk, making fun of our friends' Harlem shake dance. Things like that. We flit about from one person to another sucking up nectar from each other, maybe sweet from the person whose sunny dispostion brings warmness to the room. Or maybe the nectar is watered down or bitter, from the person who casts a gloomy shadow. And leaving our own pollen, which could be sarcastic because the last thing we spent 10 solid minutes reading were smartypants jokes on Pinterst. Again, I am not saying that was me but seriously, "Dull women have immaculate houses. And honey, I come from a long line of fascinating women." is right on. And we can leave a dusting of respect like when we don't just tolerate each others differences but actually appreciate them. And a dusting of Godly truth mixed with Godly love.

For sure, those deep meaningful conversations have significant implications, but these fluttering butterflies visiting 10 flowers in a minute

Just so we are clear, I am pretty sure both the monkeys and the birds bicker. And they do it at 5am.

Twas the month after Christmas

~post by Brin

I really intended to write a blog starting with Merry Christmas! And then I had to push it back to Happy New Year. I give up.

Christmas tends to be a popular time for expats to be homesick. I think it is the no drinking of eggnog with family and ugly sweater parties unattended and Mia who every year informs us that she has never seen snow that makes it hard. To take the edge of our nostalgia we were able to spend Christmas with our friends who actually are unrelated family.

   Allison & Cleide and Haley

And we did the same things your family probably did.

We ooohed and ahhhhed over the newest addition, Haley, 10 months. We studied the geography of her face, pointing out what she pulls from her dad, but unsure of what she got from her mother until she roared at the dinner table and we concluded she got her mother's fiery spirit.

We attended a Christmas Pageant.  We arrived an hour and half early and sat on very hard benches to see "Un Sonho de Natal," an elaborate Christmas presentation put on by a big Baptist church in the city. I would have sat on concrete to see it, which those who only arrived 30 minutes early had to do.  Also, Cleide and the girls put on their own play. Not the Nutcracker nor A Christmas Carol, just lots of dancing and (lip) singing. Talent might have been lacking, but everyone in the family applauded their enthusiasm. 

We cooked together. Donuts, fish, but not at the same meal.

We fixed something together. Our fridge has been frustrating for a while, Allison's expertise helped solve some problems. Although not all of them, so as I suggested earlier, a pretty accurate family Christmas. 

We shared traditions. We taught them our family's (and every other American's) tradition of stockings. 

We took a little outing.  Josh, Allison and Gabriella jumped on Pastor Benny's float plane for a day of fishing in the middle of nowhere. Besides fish, they came home with a broken part off Benny's kerosene refrigerator to repair. I think they brought it home just to secure a "second date."

We played out in the snow. Or at least our tropical version of snow which is copious amounts of rain. We taught Allison and Cleide how to kneeboard and waterski. Isn't that what you all did on Christmas day too?

We put up with each others prickliness. It seems, painfully, the closer I live life to others, the more aware I am of my own prickles.

We reminisced, exchanging stories and memories about our old life in Altamira. I introduced Cleide to my friends in Manaus, making a point of telling them she showed up at my house my 2nd day in Brazil. And never left my heart.  

And we were thankful. Thankful that God brought us together for Christmas, that He has put dreams and hopes in each of our hearts, and maybe someday we will live closer to each other.

When we became missionaries, pretty much everything changed, including our traditions.  Donut making has become our ritual and this years donuts were the best so far. We also tend to have themes of sickness (Josh's dengue bout and this Christmas Mia had the stomach flu) and also kneeboarding. None of them planned, over the 6 Christmas' we have had in Brazil, they just evolved.

Another tradition starting: Nova Batista's production of "A Christmas Dream." 

 One evening our kitchen cabinet said goodbye to it's wall called it quits. It raucously crashed to the ground and gave us a momentary fright. I was thankful for 2 things, that even if I lost all my eggs, sugar, coconut milk, and broke the few glass dishes I own, little Haley was nowhere near. And thankful that it occurred 40 minutes before we lost electricity so that we could clean up the mess before the ants showed up. And of course, the next morning Allison and Josh had another project. Because that is what families do.

Cute as can be and happily taking 5 baths a day in a little plastic  bowl. My bathroom was always a wet mess but somehow it was a more pleasant mess when Haley made it.

Ava had an extra stocking that matched her stuffed animal and she could not wait to give it to Haley. Nothing sounds sweeter than to think of Haley growing up with that each year. 

Josh, Ella, and Allison with their haul.

Can you relate to our Christmas?  I bet you can. Did you have moments where you were deeply grateful for family, but a minute later wanted to run into the jungle for some peace? Were you disappointed in yourself that in the hustle and glitter of Christmas, you might have missed the sacredness of God becoming man. To be honest I don't have glitter, my version of tinsel is an abundance of mold, cobwebs and bug carcasses on my windowsills that distract me from giving time to God. I am thankful that Christmas here is stripped of it's commercialism.  My kids did not see a single flier or commercial  and have no idea what toys they are missing out on. That is until our next furlough, which is quite a ways off but that did not keep us from dreaming of a white Christmas 2014.

Since I didn't send out any Christmas cards,  I will use my blog to thank our Father for allowing us to participate in what He is doing in the Amazon. And what we do takes a team of people, doing a variety of different things and if you reading this and are on that team, please know, I give God thanks for you.  

Also, on a side note.... I may be late in giving a Christmas update. But so are all of you! I have not received a single Christmas card yet, so I guess I will get to celebrate a little of Christmas in February. Because you all sent one, right?

change of scenery

post by~ Brin

With the rain forest as their classroom, my 3 & 4th graders tromped through the jungle to put a finish on their botany unit. We did not find any rare orchids nor did we find any carnivorous plants, although it would have been so satisfying to see a pitcher plants slowly ingesting the ants that can be so irritating here.

And since I am woefully unqualified to teach anything about jungle plants, our guide was PQQ's Uncle Phil, who told us stories of rubber trees and the rubber tappers, how to build a fire if you get lost and have to spend the night in the jungle, about a Governor from years past that tried unsuccessfully to build a road behind the workshop to get to his fishing house, and when a big oil company came through looking for oil. All this he remembered from when he was just a little boy at the school. We learned a lot besides plants on that hike. 

With Amazonian history right in front of them, the students get a lesson on rubber tapping from one of many trees at the school that bare the scars of playing a part in Brazil's famous, if not unpleasant, role in dominating the world in rubber export up to the turn of the 20th century.

Uhhhh.... whose kid is looking through the binoculars at the ground? The same kid who answered Canada when asked what hemisphere she lives in.  That is ok, another kid answered North America and none of them could say what the equator was even though they live 3 degrees from it. But on this trip we had a machete and 2 pocketknives so they were ready for something.

There are trails behind the school campus that have been used for various functions.  I like them to take date-walks with Josh. 

A water lily covered pond which would be whimsically delightful if it were not aiding and abetting alligators and mosquitoes. 

{shudder}  

I am not sure what these caterpillars are yet, but whatever they are they might be mean. One wrong touch to some caterpillars and they cause blisters, as Ava would tell you if you ask about her 9th birthday. We were climbing uphill (and using handholds) when I saw what could have otherwise been a sturdy tree.

I did share a bit of jungle knowledge to my students when I encouraged them to poke a hole in the termite nest and eat a termite off the stick. "They taste like black pepper" I informed them just like my jungle guide  in Honduras told me years ago. Only one student tried one and he complained that it bit him first.


Really that science hike was no big deal. Not really blogworthy except that I really enjoyed it. And it gave me a spark of energy to keep giving my best for the students and if I am doing it for God's glory I can count on Him to give me the energy I need for each day. It was as if God gave me a little delightful detour and the different scenery gave me perspective.

Following the theme of the title of this post , I went to the States for 8 gorgeous autumn days to be a bridesmaid in Chelsea's wedding to André. It was so good to be with many old friends. Old being a peculiar term because when you go through momentous occasions with people, it ages the friendship profoundly. And the wedding...blissful. Perfectly sunny, and with a romantically timed breeze that swept a charming curl right over Chelsea's radiant face when she gave André his ring

I was deeply grateful to be able to go to Chelsea's wedding. God prompted several people in North America to help me get there, and it was just one of many stories on how God has gotten so many people involved in helping with André and Chelsea's engagement and wedding.  It was overwhelmingly clear He was orchestrating the event. And I was thankful to have my own story and participation a part of it. 

I also am thankful for the prayers my family received after my last post. And I continue to be humbly reliant  on them.  I keep posting the same stuff over and over again. We are pretty worn out. My shoulder hurts. It is really hot. We like mangos and have plenty of them but would prefer them without bugs. I admit, it all seems quite dreary, and sometimes dwelling on that discourages me. But then I catch an entertaining sight like the one below. I can thank our Father sincerely that my poor attitude, my impatience and ineptitude, He uses me in spite. And He has saved me from hell, how much less is everything else.

I caught Ava spraying down some boys on one of our many hot afternoons. "It's hot," she informed me, as if my band of sweat around my middle wasn't already screaming that information, "we should build a water-slide." 

taking stock

Brin: Oh, you. It's been awhile....I miss you.

Hammock: I miss you too. I have such great memories of hanging between bamboo trees, swaying in the breeze with you, my favorite is when you hang me in the boat and the rocking of the waves helps me put you to sleep.

Brin: And then there was that one night with the mosquitoes and my twisting and turning gave you a workout. Sorry about all that blood; I am glad you washed up ok though.

Hammock: Know who else misses you? I heard Kindle does. She has forgotten the feel of your fingertips. And your Keens are afraid you'll never go for a hike again. We are all worried about you.

Brin: Oh, dear.... You might be on to something.

Hammock: Well, I hope we won't just talk.... unroll me and string me up.

Brin: Ok, how about tomorrow?  Maybe after my to-do list is done.

Hammock: This is hard for you to hear, but your To-do list texted me. She says she is exhausted, she goes to bed so tired and just needs a little space. Maybe you could lay off her a bit.

Before you think this is work of fiction, let me correct you, I actually had this conversation. I am hoping it was in my head, but it is stinking HOT here some days and momentary lapses of mindfulness are definitely occurring. Today, one of my students responded so strangely to my question I actually went over to her, lifted her ponytail from her neck and fanned her while I gave the answer. And  know what else?  The heat makes some people cranky.  I am not saying who...but we all know.

I am feeling rather drained. I would say Josh is too although he is not much of a verbalizer. So, I will update you all on him, and you are welcome for that. But at the heart of the above conversation is a truth that I can see plain as scorching day, but just can't seem to live it. I need rest. Reflection. Contemplation and some soul-deep companionship, with my Heavenly Father and with my "next door" neighbors. And I have all kinds of reasons why I am not living it. For one, we STILL are not fully unpacked yet. Serious. Also, I am teaching more classes to make up for being short-staffed here. Also I am teaching math and that is the other thing making me cranky. I try to get to the hangar on Wednesdays to work in the clinic, but then I have double housework on Thursday, which is already a heavy class load. Add to that coming off the ease and non-stop fun of furlough, I think I am actually going through some sort of endorphin withdrawal.

Our former Base Leader in Altamira, Bud Simon, would host a soul-care day once a month for all workers at his base. A very wise move as he modeled a type of Sabbath rest to remind us to take care of what is most important. Which is not unpacking, or planting a garden nor putting together a rip-roaring fun science class, or organizing my medication supply or sending a message to a dear friend. All these things being uncrossed items on my to-do list haunting me when I sink into bed.

Blessed be to God for the day of rest and religion occupation wherein earthly things assume their true size. Ambition is stunted.        -William Wilberforce

A to-do list is stunted. So today both my hammock and Wilberforce are giving out insightful advise. So, I will try to listen. 

So in the midst of exhaustion and on the brink of discouragement, I am looking for everything that brings about joy and gratitude. And the following is what I came up with... 

I accomplished something today. My students are learning how to propagate plants. So I taught them how to replant an aloe which involved a trek into the jungle to get some soil from our schools giant compost pit. One student was enthralled with all the larva in his shovel and another said it was the most disgusting thing she ever did. That made me feel fabulous. To gross-out a missionary kid is not an easily accomplishment.

And my avocado tree is producing, barely.  It is so covered in vines it is being robbed of nutrients. YIKES, could that not make an outstanding spiritual analogy?! Puzzle that one out on your own because I am too tired and too hot. Also, our little village is swamped with Malaysian apples. My family's theme.... Malaysian apples hot, Malaysian apples cold, Malaysian apples in the pot 9 days old.

Our school took a field trip to a local zoo run by a local university. It ended up being a drizzly day but overall was a pleasant learning moment outside of the classroom.  "Moment" might be accurate for some of the kids.

Did you know manatees hold their breath for 20 minutes? They can and we can for 20 seconds or the time it took to take this photo. (Mia in the front with her stuffed giraffe, Ava in the back)

Good thing Andreia and I were there to hold up the World's Largest Leaf. I tried to make sure my 6th graders knew it was a dicot, they made sure to let me know they wanted to go outside.

Soggy students inspecting the electric eel from which our village was named (poraquê). 

Here is my 3rd and 4th grade classroom, what a fun class for a science teacher, during the day I have birds in the room and sometimes at night I have a bat watching me do lesson prep. 

Someone needs to mow our lawn. Jaaaaaaaaaaaaahhsh? The poor guy has a never ending list of things to build, fix or organize. If you never receive a skype/email or any communication from him, don't take it personally. I try not to, at least. But wait, staying on a theme of gratitude, I have a lawn! I haven't always.

*** this post was written over the span of a week, poignant if not pitifully displaying the reality of my day-to-day. It is hot here, we are understaffed in certain areas, housework on the edge of a jungle without 24 hour electricity is challenging.  To share honestly, I am weary. And I recognize the tremendous need to be filled with the power and energy of our Father. So at the end of the day, if I am spent, it is for His purposes and glory, not my own personal ambition. Please pray for our family.

Not as easy as you might think

It was our first Sunday in our home church in Tremont, IL and we were called up front to say a few words and be welcomed officially for our furlough time in the States. To our surprise we were presented with an announcement that the church had raised money for us to by a boat.  Although we knew they were working on raising funds, it was a complete surprise that the total amount had already been donated.  To be honest, it was a huge relief, one of the many ways people have blessed us by their generosity over the years.

As many of you know who follow our blog, last year we moved to a missionary school which is located out in the jungle, on the banks of the Amazon.  There are no roads to the school so we knew a boat would be necessary (see this previous post for a map of our location).   Unfortunately, buying a boat here is not as easy as walking into a store and picking out the model you want.  I've been spending many of my days visiting the factory where the aluminum boat is being manufactured.  While they will customize your boat to your specific needs, they don't have any of the accessories needed, so I have spent countless hours running around looking for a battery, bilge pump, hinges, running lights, locks and countless other items that would only bore you.

In addition to the boat itself, we will be needing a trailer to pull the boat out of the water each day.  The reality here is that if we leave the boat in the water theft is very likely.  The school owns a large boat that they leave docked in front of the property.  Someone told me the transmission unit has been stolen 3 times.  The simple solution is to pull the boat out of the water and lock it up out of sight from the river.  Again, no boat trailer stores exist to pick out your favorite trailer.  So, like many of the other missionaries that live here have done, I'm building mine.  

In this long (going on 6 weeks now) process, it's easy to get discouraged.  Why isn't this easier?  Why do I have to go through such lengths just because someone might steal my boat?  Is this really worth all the trouble?

The other day Brin was explaining to one of the girls how doing something difficult builds character.  If that's true, why are we so repulsed by anything difficult?  It seems our whole culture is bent on finding an easier way to do something.  I wonder, have we placed such a high value on ease of use that we are actually missing out on something along the way?  

2 "Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. 4 Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." [James 1:2-4]

So, while I'm trying to consider it pure joy, I sure will be relieved when this boat finally does arrive!

sights of furlough

As always furlough, or "home assignment", has been a blur.  We are trying to cram as much in and still maintain our sanity.  Not sure if we are succeeding.  Here are a few snapshots of what we have been experiencing since our last post...

Nate, a former youth group student and good friend, lends me the use of his x-ray machine after I thought I broke my toe coming down the stairs at a friends house.  It seems like we always have our share of mishaps on furlough - some of you may remember last time Mia broke her arm after only a few days back.

All three of the girls have joined our town's swim team for the summer.  Swimming in the Amazon is a little different than laps in a pool, but they seem to be thoroughly enjoying it.  

After an impressive first meet, Mia was put on the A team for backstroke.

The girls were able to experience a tornado warning, nothing came of it but they did like the drama.  Gabriella is convinced that she should be a storm chaser when she grows up.

Our good friends Luke and Debbie hosted a welcome home party for us with an "ugly vest" theme.

Our girls play with the Porritt kids during our stay at their house.

We were able to make the Tremont Turkey Festival, our hometown's contribution to authentic Americana.  Which includes such stand-bys as a pageant, carnival rides, and merchants tent, but also other oddities as a bed race, Turkey Toss, and of course turkey sandwiches and drum legs.  Our girls couldn't get enough.  

As members of the swim team, our girls were able to ride on a float in the parade and throw out candy.

One of the hardest things about living overseas is the distance between family.  Our first month in the States has come and gone (quickly) and we've enjoyed our time mostly spent catching up with family.  With family comes that much loved event - the family picture.  We did truly enjoy the time with our families.  We are now in Tremont, our hometown, where we will spend most of the remainder of our time. 

Josh's family in front of his parent's house in St. Louis.

Brin's family in North Carolina, including the newest member of the family, Luke, who was born just 2 days before we arrived.

  It's always fun to hear the girls as they make comments during new experiences on our travels.  It helps remind us that even though this feels like home to Brin and I, that's not always they case for our girls who were 2, 4 and 8 when we first moved to Brazil.  Here are a sampling of some of the comments we have heard from our girls:

• Gabriella: Dad,what did you have for breakfast?; Me:English muffins, they are in the fridge; Gabriella: [standing in front of the open fridge] What are English muffins?

• [Sitting in the crowded breakfast room at our hotel in Miami, the girls are watching TV as a commercial comes on showing sizzling bacon] Ava: [yelling] BACON, BACON, BACON!!!

• [At the hotel during breakfast, as her mom eats an orange] Gabriella: I didn't take any fruit because I didn't think it was real.

• [From the bathroom] Ava: Where do we put the toilet paper?

Ice skating with Aunt Ronesha.

The cousins: Mia, Maci, Ana and Ava.

good thing they are FLOAT planes

~Post by Josh

The water encroaching on the entrance to our hangar.

As we are busily packing our suitcases and our belongings into boxes for our impending move, we are keeping wary eye on the river.  I've mentioned before how the river level rises and falls sometimes as much as 40 feet between rainy season and dry season.  Working on the bank of the river, where our hangar is located, I have become much more aware of how this effects river life.  Our ramp, for example, which is just a simple concrete boat ramp for pulling the float planes out of the river, must be more than 100 yards long just to accommodate the changing level of the water.  In many areas throughout the Amazon houses are built on stilts, but even so, during higher than normal years, the people are forced to move to high ground for a time.  Evidencing the ingenuity of the people, or perhaps the desperation, I have even seen people build a type of makeshift scaffolding to hold their family and belongings hovering inches above the water until it recedes.

There is a mark a few inches from the top of our ramp at the entrance to our hangar that marks the highest level the river reached in the memory of the local people.  That high level record was set in 2009.  This year we are watching the river particularly closely because the river is already higher than at this time in 2009.  It has been a particularly wet rainy season, and possibly due to a more mild winter in the Andes Mountains and the resulting heavier than normal snow melt.  As of the 1st of May, we are about 1.5 feet below the high level mark and the river doesn't usually peak until the end of June.  The river has been rising about 2 inches per day.  The odds do not look good.  

The view of our ramp from the hangar during a recent, particularly severe, dry season. That is not water at the end of the ramp, but mud. Look close and you can see trails of footprints.

The view of  the hangar from a boat on June 2nd.  The water has about 2.5 ft. before entering the hangar.

Beyond our concern that our hangar will flood, swamping many tools and a parts room that could potentially cause many thousand dollars in damages, our hearts go out to the many people living at the rivers edge.  They have so little already and a flood would make their difficult lives that much harder.  Floods also bring an increase in disease as well as limited access to fresh food and clean water.  Please pray for the people of the Amazon, and that those ministering to them would show the love of God. 

One foot out the door and it feels good!

~Post by Brin

The other day I mused that this will be my first furlough going home healthy. Four years ago we traveled home and I had just started a course of amoeba medication. Many people pointed out that I had lost a lot of weight in those 2 years; a lot of it was just the 2 weeks prior. I held back no details for anyone who lingered in that conversation too long. Then 2 years ago, packing to leave I was tired, slightly feverish. I broke out in the telltale dengue fever rash the day before we were to fly.

Today I am feeling fantastic and ready to go! After I pack up my whole house, that is. And teach all my science classes. And give Science class in Portuguese to our lone 5th grader. I am pretty sure I learn just as much as my student, Duda. She was entertained today when I was amused to hear the word freshwater translated “agua doce.” Sweet water indeed. I will work hard all day and prep dinner ahead of time so I can swim in the river each afternoon....which explains why I have swimmers ear. Stink! I guess I am not perfectly healthy. I also have a gorgeous scrape on my knee I earned playing my first game of futesol (court soccer). Health is a relative term, I suppose. And I thank our Father for mine.  

We are moving again, this time just across the yard. So in the midst of looking for immunization records, making our “to buy in the States” list, attempting to find our least worn out clothing (also least smelly, I apologize ahead of time), and planning dinner dates and picnics all the way into August, we are also packing up our whole house. Which involves interruptions when it rains, or when the electricity shuts off or when I have to take care of someone’s booboo. And there are a lot of booboos with jungly kids running barefoot and pitching themselves into the river.


I end this post with a freebie, because of course it will increase my readership: Free hugs for all!  For my friends and teammates that stay back and for my friends and family that I soon will see!

celebrating an end

We leave for the States in about a month.  We'll be spending 3 short months visiting friends and family, packing as much as we can in before school starts again here at the beginning of August.  So in the meantime, we've been trying to make travel plans, arrange places to stay, dream about where we'll go and what we'll do and who we'll do it with... all while trying to stay focused on our day to day tasks.  

Last week, however, we were able to step back and celebrate the completion of a lengthy project.  Some of you might remember a post back in December about a complete rebuild we were doing on the floats of Pastor Bennie's Cessna 172.  After stopping to do other necessary work, we were finally able to complete the project.  We celebrated the occasion with our families with a churrasco (Brazilian bar-b-que).  It will be good to see the plane flying again, taking Bennie to visit church leaders and provide support to the growing church movement that he oversees.

After driving many of the close to 8,000 rivets that hold together the floats, I'm thankful for the experience the project provided.  

thought on weather

~Post by Brin

I was annoyed as a child hearing my aunt say "You don't like the weather here?  Wait a few hours and it will change." It annoyed me because my other aunts in other states said the same thing. My personality really doesn't do well with frivolous talk, which explains why I have a hard time saying the culturally obligatory "Tudo bem? (Everything good?)" to the lady at the market when all I want is to buy some pineapples and leave. But at the heart of that weather quip lies an interesting truth. The weather did change in Minnesota, that occurred to me while I tried to teach my 5th graders about meteorology and they claimed they had never seen a meteorology report on TV or anywhere really. Well, that blew my whole lesson. Their equatorial life is rain, heat, rain, heat. Do we really need someone to tell us what we already can guess? 

So about weather, I am not a big prayer on that subject. Because I assume that if I am praying for rain, someone else is praying for clear skies. And why should I get what I want? It has been raining for weeks. But I stubbornly planned for Mia's birthday party to be outside. The day arrived and it rained off and on all day just like every other day. But it cleared off an hour before the party and only started to sprinkle just as I was handing out the party favors at the end. I didn't pray for that, one of my students informed me she did and I thanked her and thanked God. 

Mia turned 8 on the 8th. Which my daughters concluded warranted a big celebration. My plan was to have Josh take her up in a plane and call it good. But planes were gone, pilots scarce and we all know about gas prices. So a jungle fairy party in the backyard it is. We invited EVERY girl in the ENTIRE elementary school. Which came to 12 girls. And they all showed up wearing such sweet little fairy costumes, except 1 feisty girl who came in a cowboy outfit complete with guns. Josh and I saw her approach and exchanged looks communicating, "this is gonna be hilarious!" We were not disappointed.

I decided to really impress myself and invite the WHOLE elementary, even the boys. All 4 of them, and technically I recruited them to be ogres that would surprise the fairies by stealing the cake and leading the fairies on a scavenger hunt into the jungle. The boys were up for it and did their roles a little too well. In the middle of Gabriella's "how to be a fairy" lesson, the ogres roared in, grabbed the cake and ran into the jungle. Mia, thinking they were real life party-crashers, stands and yells at them to go away and to quit ruining her party. When no one listens she runs to her room in tears. Some of the fairies (as you can see in the picture) ran the other way, some just stood watching in surprise. The cowboy begins yelling, "Davi (who had taken her guns)!,  Davi! I need my guns!" Now that is entertainment. But we can't laugh too long because someone needs to comfort the birthday girl and coax her out of her room. We tromped into the jungle in search of the cake and I carried one of the frightened fairies even though one of the ogres was her cousin.

Fifth grade ogres and the cake they stole. And no, I didn't trust them to run through the jungle with the real cake. I put out a decoy covered with a pillowcase.

I had to give grades this week. How does that work? For homeschool I just handed out high-fives and rainbow stickers. Gabriella is now preoccupied with her report card, never before having feedback given so explicitly.

An unexpected trip

Harlan Pflederer
September 29, 1917 - February 19, 2012

I'm sitting in an airport terminal as I await my return to Brazil, the memories of the past week tumbling around in my head.   The joy of reconnecting with friends and family as well as the mixed feelings associated with losing a loved one who truly lived a life worth celebrating.  My grandfather, Harlan Pflederer, passed away at the age of 94.  The strongest of my many thoughts and emotions is an overwhelming sense of gratitude.


I shared at the funeral about a memory of my grandpa telling me as a kid, while watching sports on TV, that he roots for whoever is losing.  It's clear to me now that he also had a similar outlook in other areas of his life.  He was drawn to the underdogs, the struggling, the weak.   Everyone that knew him, it seems, has a story of how he touched them, often in an hour of need.  In fact, over a hundred people have taken the time to share a special memory on a Facebook page set up for him during his final days.


I'm grateful to have spent a week talking about, remembering and honoring my grandpa.  I'm grateful as well for all the memories I have of him, many of which involve him doing something to bless others.  But more than all, I'm grateful for the legacy he has left.  A legacy that draws me forward when I find this Christian life difficult.  A legacy not of how to win at this life, but how to embrace what is really important.  A legacy that is sobering as I contemplate if I will ever live up to that standard that has been set.  But I suppose grandpa would be the first to point out that he was nothing special, just a man who loved his Savior.

All of my siblings together for the first time in several years.

(Last two photo credits go to Angie Puckett Photography)