Jungle Adventure

At Brin's suggestion, Ella and I took an overnight trip to our local waterfall. We've gone several times to the waterfall that requires an 1 ½ hour hike, but never have we stayed overnight. After reading a book about jungle expeditions, Ella has entertained wild thoughts of an excursion full of adventure and discovery. Even though we have often found ourselves "camping" in a jungle setting on trips to the interior (is hanging a hammock in a mango tree considered camping?), Ella was convinced that if we were to set off into the jungle and stay the night, nothing but adventure would await us. We invited along Allison and Dillon (a short termer from OH), since they had recently stayed overnight at the waterfall, and off we went.

When we first left the States to come to Brazil we were keenly aware that our decision to leave our home would adversely affect our children in ways we could only imagine. Some of those thoughts have recently resurfaced as we prepare to again wretch our family away from everything that is familiar. But in the midst of these thoughts, we are reassured that with the negatives of being away from family and friends back home, we are able to give our kids experiences that will build in them a sense of adventure, of appreciation for other cultures and what God is doing in the world at large. Another advantage is jungle adventures. What most kids can only read about, our kids are able to experience first had. 

I'm not sure how our foray into the jungle stacked up to Ella's expectations of adventure, but we had a great time. Raman noodles and hot dog chunks never tasted so good. Although we saw no jaguars or anacondas, we did enjoy some stories around the campfire, explored the creek that feeds the waterfall, and played in the waterfall. All of which made me feel a little bit better about the changes Ella will be facing ahead.

Stopping for a rest along the jungle path.

Ella refills our water bottles from the water filter.

lost tooth, lost purse, lost identity

~ Post by Brin

 

Ella lost her tooth this morning at the market. She did it in her pastel (that pastry thing she's eating), how that could happen I don't know. I do consider the market to be a huge blessing in my life.  I can get organic (at least I assume they are) bananas and close to organic everything else. Or so the vendors tell me, if they understood the question. And I can get jungle-harvested cinnamon for toast and cobaiba oil for our bug bites. And I can walk to it if I want in comparison to the 30 minute bus ride I will be taking come February. On a bothersome side note, I could not find my coin purse when I returned home. Guess I know where I left it now (look close).

On Sunday mornings I go to Altamira’s weekly outdoor market. That is if the stars align. Those stars being an empty produce basket, a rainless morning and the willingness to sweat and make simple conversation about Obama with a particular vendor who always searches me out to practice his English. The market is so close to my house I can also walk there in about 15 minutes, but the walk back is mostly uphill and twice now I have forgotten that I was on foot when I bought a giant watermelon, besides having my obnoxiously huge Lands End boat tote running over with mangos, pineapples, kale, green onions and lettuce, my market staples.

Overall, the market suits me. I like a big variety to choose from and it is probably the freshest option for produce in the city. But this morning, something stood at a contrast. I went to the market with an apple in hand and then was annoyed when I wanted to dispose of it, but couldn’t find a trash can. Yes, I could have added my (organic) trash to the smorgasbord of garbage already on the streets;  pineapple tops, chicken feathers, plastic cups, fliers for a motorbike promotion, my core would fit right in. I would fit right in, but I couldn’t do it. I just could not litter even if not doing so set me apart from the other shoppers. I have felt that awkward dichotomy before. It is when the Brazil Brin confronts the American Brin. It also happened when I asked a vendor not to put the carrots in a plastic sack. “I don’t like to waste plastic. That is why I bring a big bag,” I explain opening my bag for her to plop the carrots in, hoping my altruistic respect for the environment rubs off on the other shoppers. I doubt it. I only manage to confuse a few vendors and maybe save about 10 extra bags from blowing freely across our city and mingling with the other thousand bags.  Why do I have to be so weird? I so want to just fit in.  But at what cost?  And when I don’t, which is plenty, why does it bug me so much? Yesterday I went to the orphanage and participated in a skit that required my character to sneeze, it was actually the defining trait of the character (yup, I got an important role). The kids love to laugh at me when I talk because they find my accent so adorable and entertaining. At least that is what I think, I mean, surely that is why they are laughing. I played my part with all the theatricalities I learned in high school. I gave my character the big, “AH- AH- AH-CHOO!” kind of sneeze. A loud, dramatic extended one. Cue the laughter; I am so charming. The skit goes on with audience participation where they have to also do their own sneezing. Now, I knew that animal sounds are different based on what language was being spoken. While in Romania years ago, I learned they do not like the sound Americans use for roosters. But I didn’t know that there was a Brazilian way to make sneeze noises. Well there is and it is much more calm and subtle, more of just a quick, but strong puffs of air through the noise.  A rather pitiful sneeze, I think, but now I feel weird because clearly I am not fluent in bodily noises. And I guess I feel bad, because….I want to be?  Grrrrrrrrr. 

Another such personality showdown occurred last Thursday. Mia participated in her school’s much anticipated and illustrious Festa de Nações, or Festival of Nations. This year we arrived in Altamira too late for Ava to participate and Mia arrived barely in time. I didn’t figure out what country she was assigned until we arrived that night. Based on her costume we were assigned to make we guessed Spain, Italy or Mexico.  We were close, bonus points given because Argentina was colonized by Spain. The invitation claimed the festivities would start at 7:00pm. Silly invitation. The Brazil Brin congratulated her good judgment when she arrived at 7:20, until she surveyed the school and realized that probably 80% of the guests still hadn’t arrived. An hour or so later, the festivities began. This being our family’s second Festa I knew to expect crowded tables, a famine of chairs that make desperate standers steal a chair if it’s owner got up, delays for unknown reasons and the reality that I still didn’t entirely understand what was going on. And you know what?  Neither did anyone else. People wandered around during the program as if it was just a practice, no one rolled their eyes when “Miss Portugal” had to be called to the stage multiple times, and some guests even chatted through the national anthem. I doubt anyone shared my private “let’s get this show on the road!” attitude or at least the degree to which I did. Reflecting this morning, I could have just sat empty-minded and unbothered, but instead I kept standing, double-checking to make sure that Mia’s costume looked like her classmates and wondering when she would need to go to the stage. Seriously, what is my problem? I have been in the culture for 4 years now, how have I not learned how to relax?

It really bugs me that I can’t be me. I mean, yeah, I am ok about giving up the annoying parts of me, or try to do so. I exaggerate, overact, don’t listen well, and am tightly-wound no matter what culture I presently reside and I wouldn’t mind softening those things on both sides of the equator. But I still kinda like me. And sometimes I feel like I spend a lot of effort trying to be something else. My reluctance at being a litterbug and conflicts with my multiple cultural personalities are strange and piddly issues yes, but the feelings in sum bring out something else. I think it has something to do with integrity. I want the Brin on the outside to match up with the Brin on the inside. And I have been taught that Brin should be the same Brin wherever she finds herself, at work on Monday morning or at church on Sunday or at Uncle Duane’s midweek barbecue. And I want to be the real me with whomever I find myself. And maybe that is why I am bothered so much by the discrepancy I see in myself. 

I eventually found a trashcan at the market and next Sunday I will lug my obnoxious bag that bangs into everyone in the crowded aisles. I will also be the only women wearing a visor. Melanoma Brin will always beat out Culturally Appropriate Brin or Fashion Brin.

Each class is assigned a different nation, here is Mia as Argentina alongside another student.

This class was assigned Brazil. I found this group hilarious because they used soccer uniforms for their costume and a dance involving a lot of running and kicking moves to exemplify the nation of Brazil. At least they know who they are, ahem!

Mia did such a fabulous job, you’d never know she got so little practice in and the fact that she was so upbeat and eager speaks well of her ability to persevere and bloom at school despite her parents mostly being clueless. She is quite inspiring. The whole program was really stupendous, credit needs to be given to my girls’ beloved Tia G (to the rest of us Pastora Angelita) who did a bang up job and made it a truly memorable evening for everyone.

Good times with friends

~post by Josh 

Our friends invited us to go camping with them on their "island" along with a group of others from our church.  We are trying to take advantage of every opportunity we have to spend time with friends, so we jumped at the offer.  We have been there before, but that didn't diminish the stark contrast with how I would choose to take a relaxing weekend.  

Our friends are a musical family, so they love to listen to music and play music.  Loudly.  Late into the night.  Fortunately, a rainstorm came through at about midnight and chased everyone into their tents, or underneath the house if they didn't have a tent.  OK, that needs explanation.  A neighbor has a house that sits on stilts, and this being the only shelter, the chickens, dogs and pigs got the boot and about 20 people tied their hammocks to the floor joists to get out of the rain.

So the music was loud, the meals were at odd times, and we left about 2.5 hours later than we were supposed to... but all was forgiven as we enjoyed the wonderful hospitality and kindness of our friends.  

We will truly miss our friends from Altamira.  Will we find such quality friendships where we are going?  How long will it take?  When will we be able to visit our friends here in Altamira again?  All questions in the back of our minds.  All part of letting go and trusting that the God who has called us will be faithful to meet our needs.

Chow time always turns into a bit of a free for all, which even the chickens get into.

Old couches serve as outdoor furniture until there isn't anything left, at which point they probably are used for something else.

Back to the bush

Ella and I and some dog enjoy a moment of quiet.

These things often come together at the last minute.  I learned the night before a visit to Surubim (a bush community where we have been planting a church) that a few members of our team had backed out and there would be room to take Ella.  

It felt like every one of the 5 months that it had been since my last visit.  It was good to catch up with some of the believers there... not much changes in jungle life though.  We were able to participate in a service in a new area, about a 10 minute drive down the road from our normal location.  And we spent some time with some of the main leaders.

Since I'm leaving in January and Alison (my ministry partner in Surubim) will probably be starting college, we've been talking about a couple different options of how to maintain support for the leaders in Surubim.  I know that God has a plan, He has been working so vividly in lives there.  The little group of believers have even taken it on themselves to start construction of a structure for them to meet in during the rainy season.  Please be in prayer for the small group of believers in Surubim, and especially the main leader Carlinha.  

Watching a soccer match with the locals.

Ella cools of with a "shower", the creek was dry so we had to settle for hauling buckets up from the well to clean and cool off.

Alison and I spend some time discipling a few of the leaders, Carlinha is in the middle.

Ella was thrilled at the chance to play her guitar during an actual worship service.  Expectations are very low and not many people would catch a goof up, so I thought it was a great opportunity for her.  Here Ella and Alison are practicing while a few curious onlookers watch their every move.

 

We’re back… for a while

~Posted by Josh

Five months is a long time to be away.  We thoroughly enjoyed our time in the States, but we were ready to jump back into our lives in Brazil.  After being away for so long some things stood out much more starkly and will take some time to getting used to.

We soon realized that we are all out of practice with the portuguese language and find ourselves stumbling over words that would usually come naturally.  The younger girls especially have forgotten a lot, but I’m sure in no time they’ll be jabbering with their friends.  Speaking of jabbering, it’s election time in Brazil and for some reason the candidates think it’s helpful to hire people to drive around blaring advertisements from cars and bicycles.  Less annoying are the people that walk around dressed in their candidates colors and waving flags.  Mia calls it flag day.  The other night we caught ourselves in a procession of the red candidate, between the blaring radios, shouting people and fireworks, we couldn’t even hear each other inside the car.

The girls seem to be adjusting well.  But we were a bit worried at first.  When we first arrived at our house, our rat-dog… I mean our beautiful pet Beanie, growled and barked incessantly at the girls.  They had ran to him as soon as getting in the house, but probably a combination of not recognizing them and the fear of being attacked by a pack of wild girls had put him over the edge.  Mia immediately decided to give up on Beanie and go say hi to their friends, the neighbor girls.  Mia was crushed again to learn that they had moved to another city while we were gone.

So we’re back in Brazil.  In some ways it’s just how we left it.  But it’s also different this time.  We’re here in Altamira only for a couple of months and then will be moving on to Manaus. 

[Note: I originally wrote this blog last week.  We’ve been out of internet, and we still struggling with it.  We hope to begin posting more often as we get things functioning.  Thanks for your patience!]

Tools

-Post by Josh

Probably the most difficult thing for me to give up when we left for Brazil (beside family and friends) was my tools.  To some of you that may sound trivial.  Over the years I had accumulated a well equipped wood shop, as well as enough mechanic's tools to handle most car repairs.  

When we left for Brazil, I loaned out most of my tools to friends, and the rest I just put in storage.  I really did miss my tools.  Or more accurately, the ability to fix things when they broke.  On furlough, I remember visiting friends with well equipped garages, and I would literally feel sense of loss.  Ok, maybe I have issues, but I'm just trying to be honest here.

I share this as a testimony of what God is doing.  Even as my tools lay spread out across my friends' shops, God was planning something better.  For many months on this blog we have asked for prayer, requesting that God would make it clear if we were to stay in Brazil. As previous posts have described, He did just that and now happy to be finding myself stocking a tool chest again. In my position as an aviation technician, I will need my own tools.  I already own about half of what I need, but I've recently spent some time putting together a list of tools that I will need to round out my toolbox.  

Along with the help of our home church, we are attempting to raise money to purchase these tools.  Roger Stuber, and his son Jake, have helped in setting up a website for people that would like to sponsor a tool.  If you are interested in checking out this sight, click on the picture below.

Manaus and back

 Beth, Roger, and Brin and I, exploring the streets of Manuas.

As we prepared to land in Manaus, my mind took me back to two years earlier... after our first furlough, we scheduled a 3 day stay in Manaus.  We thought it would be a good transition back after a busy three months.  The only thing I can remember about those three days is thinking it was two days too long...  And here we were, returning - not just for a quick stopover but to catch a glimpse at what our new lives might look like.

We knew our lives would be very different in Manaus, but seeing it first hand forced us to see that .  It seems almost every aspect of our lives will be different.  I'm sure we will come to like some of these changes, but in the meantime it can seem a bit overwhelming.  

 Manaus, a city of 2 million, has traffic. Plenty of it. And never once did we pass a horse and cart like we would in Altamira. We not real sure what we would be buying at the "Shop Dope"....

We toured several Brazilian schools, all of them very modern by the standards that we are accustomed.

 We enjoyed our rice and beans in the hangar.

  Roger and I checking out one of the planes that is maintained at the hangar where I will be working.

So we are back in the States, but only for a short time.  We leave for Brazil at the end of Oct. and will be in Altamira until the end of year, at which point we will move to Manaus.  

I'm reminded of the river Javari that we traveled up on a survey trip last spring.  The river cuts sharp turns through the jungle, doubling back on itself at every turn.  But all the while it slowly moves toward the mouth, it's final destination.  It's so easy to get caught up in the turns of life, but it's refreshing to know that He is taking us where He wants us to go.  

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Hebrews 11:1

We are not alone.

All the changes and excitement of the last month has been like a whirlwind.  In some ways, we haven't even had a chance to catch our breath, as it seems like we've made one decision after another.  Big decisions can be scary, but as I look back, I am so grateful for the way that God has provided people in our lives to walk this journey with us.

The phenomenon of furlough (what missionaries call their visit to their home country) is a relatively new experience for us. I'm not sure you can ever get used to living out of your suitcase.  We have had so many great visits with good friends that we haven't seen for 2 years.  But all the traveling can really take a toll on family life, along your sanity.  We've answered some of the same questions and told the same stories countless times.  We try to be as honest and open with people about our struggles and difficulties.  But recently we've also shared the elation and excitement that comes with God working in your life in such a obvious way. Anyone who hung out with us in June and now recently since our new excitement could, in all fairness, label us as bipolar.

As I look back, I can't think of a better environment to make big decisions.  We have been surrounded by people that love us and want to be a part of our ministry.  They ask hard questions and force us to think about things from a different perspective.  And they rejoice with us when God reveals that He has been working things out long before we were aware.

When we shared with our church that we may be making a move to a new city and a new ministry, they suggested that we go visit Manaus and come back and share our plans with them before returning to Brazil.  They even offered to send two members of the missionary committee with us to check things out.  So, Brin and I will be visiting Manaus Sep. 17 - 23 along with Roger and Beth who will be traveling with us to see our new home.  We are looking forward not only to having them help look at things from a different perspective, but we recognize that they are symbolic of all the people that stand with us in this new chapter.  They will be so much more connected to what we are doing, and by extension, the whole church will be standing with us as we take this leap of faith.

wait…..wait…..wait…..NOW!

~posted by Brin

When Josh gets restless it usually means God is up to something. He describes his departure from 10 years in youth ministry, not as burnout, but more a restlessness that prompted him to ask of God for direction that ultimately led us to Brazil. And about a year or so ago, again with the jimmy legs. Josh tells how he battled within, attempting to discern whether it was an uncalled for discontentedness or a stirring of God that comes out as restlessness.  I recognized that in him but honestly, I didn’t know what to do with it besides be annoyed. First of all, it threatened my security. I had finally taken root in Altamira and I quite simply thought Josh should make a go of it like I did. I recall one desperate day telling him to bloom where he is planted, and then immediately regretted it when he shot me a look that called me out on the cheesyiness.

Over the past 2 years, Josh and other like-hearted men from our Mission began a series of travels, conversations and cooperative dreaming about what God had for each of us. Looking back, he visited many places; Santa Isabel, Monte Dourado, São Felix and others that now have no more significance than names on a map. Then last February, a little town on the Amazon tugged on his heart like none other.  A fire was lit! We had several other families added to the flame and we even gathered to discuss visions, timelines, and goals. Josh’s passion started to surface. Months of prayer, discussion and internal contemplation led us to think that God was leading us to this little town.  And then, little by little, God sent each family a different direction, leaving our family pondering what would be next for us and honestly baffled and frustrated. We had no interest (or the capacity) to move to that town by ourselves so we essentially wiped it from the list of possibilities with no other options to take it’s place.

Awkward. That was how we showed up when we arrived home on furlough.  We trudged through uncomfortable meet-ups with friends and family and stumbled over words trying to express our… I guess I would call it an in-between.  Often times we just said, we’re still waiting, still praying, please pray with us. And early on I was certain, seriously certain, that God would reveal something fabulous. Josh prayed privately that God would do one of two things: open a door somewhere new or give him a fresh enthusiasm for Altamira, which was what I hoped would happen. But weeks went by and then months and the wait felt heavier and heavier as it wore on.  I started to get twitchy.  I would vacillate between a confident state of living in God’s strength during the wait and security in God’s love for me and then out of nowhere a sudden flash of desperation where I was tempted to put Josh’s résumé on Craigslist and buy the first house that had a For Sale sign.

From June until now we have been moving around home to home. Staying up late for conversations, skiing, playing golf, gaining weight, clearly we are having a fun visit. Beginning July 8th, we began a month of travels starting in Minnesota to see my family and a visit to old friends Chris and Dana. We had a 3 night Providential stopover before Midwest Family Camp at Rachel and Adam’s (Josh’s sister) house in Milwaukee. Rachel hosted a party so that we could meet some of their friends, and that evening one of them told us that another missionary family from Brazil was in town and that he (Wilson) was a pilot in the Amazon Basin. Hmmmmmm, now before I continue with this story I have to remind you all that Josh has had an interest in aviation since childhood. I know this because his homemade Christmas stocking that we inherited at our marriage has an airplane on it. He also has his degree in Aviation Science but after graduation went straight into full time ministry and has been there since. 

We went to church the next morning with intentions of hunting down this family, motivated by the aviation aspect. But they were speaking at a different church. I would have labeled the whole situation “bummer”" had I not read the recent letter the family had written to the church. In it they spoke of their goals for furlough. Now generally, when missionaries come home their goals include things like passport/visa paperwork, continuing education, rest and vast amounts of food, get a suspicious mole looked at, and in our case, get Josh some new teeth. Their goal that stunned my soul: encourage the body of Christ to find their role and purpose in the Kingdom. That is us!!  Also, a detail of interest, all three of their children attended College of the Ozarks in Missouri where Josh and I met. We have to find them, I pleaded of Josh. So, armed with sketchy directions to the church where they were speaking, we eagerly headed out to find them while I peppered Josh with advise on how to approach them.

Adam finds the church and we head in as everyone is pouring out. It was kind of exhilarating really, but I soon realized that they could be slipping past us in the crowds and we wouldn’t even know it. So, I started holding up their prayer card picture and asking strangers, “Do you know where they are?” Later Josh admits his embarrassment because probably everyone assumed we were at the service and wondered why we wouldn’t recognize them ourselves. We find them and Josh ambitiously starts out the conversation by asking about the aviation scene in the Amazon Basin and then leads to what our family has been doing the last 4 years and our current in-between state. Josh recounts the story of how we were ready to move and then our team dissolved and Wilson responds by saying, “funny you mention Atalaia, my family is considering moving there next year.” Now, be aware, this little town of 7,000 is one of  hundreds in the Amazon Basin. That connection was stunning! Josh’s next question is one that he has been asking himself for years, “What would it take to get back into aviation with no experience outside of schooling?” Josh had erroneously assumed there would no place on the aviation mission field for someone with no experience. Not true, Wilson stated, and what seemed off the cuff at the time, invited our family to join him in Manuas and he would train Josh for a year. Only 10 minutes had passed and Wilson needed to leave, so Josh asked him where he would be for the remainder of his furlough, Josh thinking he would travel to wherever Wilson was staying to continue the conversation. And the next amazing provision…he would be heading to see his daughter (pre-nursing from College of the Ozarks, just like me) where she got her first job at St. Francis Medical Center in Peoria, IL (just like me). In two weeks, God would intersect our paths once again, putting us only 15 minutes apart.

So we went on to Midwest Camp, thrilled at the new possibility, but yet still as uncertain as ever of our future. But this time, we had a spark of hope and sharing our unknowns became pleasurable because we KNEW God was up to something; we had to testify to that. We took advantage of having the ears of other missionaries at camp; Dan and Heather Galat in Africa and Tim and Christine Huber in Japan.  And we excitedly told people of our intersection with Wilson’s family, Josh’s (God initiated) restlessness and our hunger to hear from God.

Two weeks had passed when we gave a presentation to our home church in Tremont. We shared honestly about our last 2 years, which included a tough last 6 months starting with dengue fever in December and then Josh’s motorcycle accident in April. We shared that we were in the midst of a challenging wait, but hope seemed around the corner, because we were going to meet with this new family the very next morning. We sensed God had us on the precipice of something amazing, but were still without anything specific. Pray for us tomorrow morning, we pleaded.  So with the awkward in-between off our chests and the supportive and loving gaze of our church family upon us, we bowed for prayer. And when I looked up so many people surrounded us we could not see through the crowd. 

With amounts of anticipation that I cannot not even describe, we met up with Wilson and his wife Lori at Bob Evans in East Peoria. We heard their story, got a sense of their ministry vision and learned that his need for an aviation mechanic with an organization called Asas de Socorro (wings of rescue) is very legit, as was their offer to train us in Manuas. A few days passed, and with the seriousness of a potential move ripening, Josh and Wilson met again, this time bringing Steve Meyer (head of our church’s missions committee) and Beth Scheuermann (our family's liaison to the missionary committee). Everyone involved has not just a peace but an excitement. The wait appears to be nearing it’s end and we marvel at how God has so dramatically intertwined events in our lives. From 20 years ago when a conversation with Luke Huber sparked aviation in Josh and my own call to nursing as a freshman at C of O to our recent travels with teammates with Xingu Mission. We learn this and relearn this: time is in His hands, beginning and the end, and His strength will rise when we wait on His call.

Our next step is the product of Josh’s divine restlessness, a hunger for something that he knew was inside him and he didn’t want to ignore or deny. God stirs us when He is ready to move us, a mighty move on the inside or out.

Sights from our travels:

A gorgeous day at Chris and Dana’s golf course where I learned I really like golf!

 More pictures of our time in Minnesota 

Uncle Adam and the girls on a wild ride in Milwaukee (literally and figuratively)

More pictures of our time in Wisconsin

Ella and Ava at the Newtons (see the Brazil flag?)

More pictures of Midwest Camp and Columbus

 

Josh teaching Ava to ski

More pictures of Lake of the Ozarks

You calling me chicken?

 Post by Brin

Yesterday morning I got up and lounged on the addictively comfortable couch at Stan and Julie's only hours before we left and regretted that I had not spent any time on it earlier. The last week has been so enjoyable, with encouraging lunches and dinners with friends (Josh is up 5lbs.) and events at the Turkey Festival (or Chicken Festival as Ava and Mia referred to it a few times, they have little to no exposure to the word "turkey" in Brazil but know it fits in the chicken category). For me, the weekend passed at a local community college's Motorcycle Safety Class. My weekend education came at a high price, ya all. I missed out on the glorious gluttony of turkey and conversation at the Turkey Festival, seeing Luke Porritt in tights, and relaxing poolside at Stan and Julie's. My class started on Friday night and went the whole weekend, even in the rain. I shivered and chattered and my left hand cramped from a combination of it's subnormal temperatures and new found importance in shifting gears. However, the weekend was redeemed when I was handed my passing grades and now am a licensed driver, although that hardly qualifies me for the lawless roads of Altamira. Honestly though, I should not cheer myself too wildly, I am pretty certain God enabled me throughout the test. He is vitally involved in the details of our lives; we can catch a glimpse if we are looking for Him. I am so relieved to have the class behind me.

Now we are in St. Louis, checking in with family and friends from college. Maybe a little rest, maybe some shopping and probably a date night at Barnes and Noble.

Ella and her friend Heather enjoying a ride at the Turkey Festival

Josh? The doctor will see you now.

We have arrived back into the States and with that comes the meaningful conversations we have been craving, dry skin that compels us to drink from the lotion bottle and explanations to our children how barns, grain elevators and automatic flushing toilets function.

Josh  got to see a dentist today. Finally. It has been 2 1/2 months since he spit fragments of 5 of his teeth on the dirt road of the TransAmazon Highway. We are so, so thankful to be able to do this here where we can just relax knowing that Josh will get the best care and we don’t have to triple check every decision.  Josh however, hasn’t been the only one seeing a doctor. Within 72 hours of landing in the States, Mia has managed to break her 3rd bone on one of those “safe and fancy playgrounds” that I had been touting to the girls on the eve of our arrival. And thankfully, we have been so well cared for by everyone around us it is quite evident that God has brought people into our path right when we needed them the most.

 

  Ok, so here we see Nate, a former youth group student, now a chiropractor with an office equipped with an x-ray machine. How very helpful. He diagnosed the break and sent us on to Dr. Baer from our home church who slipped us into the clinic during the closing minutes to cast her arm. And then this morning, Rachael (Rumbold, where we are staying) started out the morning by brainstorming what I will need to do to keep the cast dry and clean, a task that had not even crossed my mind. So, yeah, we are being taken care of.

 

 Ella and Isaac at a children’s museum

 

Mia plays with her cousin Maci and friend Andrew at a church picnic

Birthday lessons

In the car, I overhear Mia explaining in English to another missionary kid that she used to have five, but now she has six. Six Princess notebooks? Six lost teeth? Lipgloss? Any of those items would be an appropriate guess for our home. What she was saying, however, is that she used to be 5 years old, but now she is 6. And if you spoke Portuguese, that would make total sense to you. On the eve of leaving for our 2nd furlough I find myself paying attention to things like this.

I am starting to forget nouns. Like, what is the name of that thing that floats above the crib for babies to watch? After seeing it in a book Mia was utterly intrigued and inquired what it is called. "I can't recall," I told her, "now go back to your homeschool lesson." I bring it up because I realized a few weeks ago that I just cannot recall the name of one of my former patients from back in the PICU. At the time and for many years after I could not imagine I would ever forget her after the impression she left. And I hate it that I can't remember it. I blame it on the Portuguese that is now taking up brain space. But it bothers me most of all because it suggests some of the tender and meaningful parts of my past are slipping away. This is how life is, I suppose, but I cannot help but wonder how having dual lives plays a part in it.

Ava loves a good party. That would be her with the pink princess dress on. She has been planning her surprise birthday party for about a week now, informing Cleny and I when we should turn on and off the lights and when everyone should yell surprise and that next everyone should complement her on her dress and hair.

I turned her down a notch each day so that by today the party we threw for her at her school was just what she wanted.

In accordance with Brazilian tradition (or at least the Brazilians we hang with), Ava cordially passes out her birthday cake with brigadeiros (fudge balls?) on the side. I attempted to keep it typically Brazilian but need to admit defeat when we brought out the silly string and had the whole class hysterically chasing Ava for a chance to get webbed. I will be adding Silly String to my import list. The boys at the orphanage would love it.

As we look forward to our time in the States, it's apparent that it will take time for our family to adjust to a different language, pace of life and customs.   The longer we are away, the less familiar "home" is.  It's a strange notion really, but one we are becomeing more comfortable with.

Playing catch-up

It's been a bit of a crazy month.  Between physical therapy appointments and other regular daily activities, we've been bit by bit preparing for our upcoming departure. We leave for furlough the end of May and our list of people to have for lunch, vehicles to fix and ministries to cover grows instead of shrinks each day.  In the midst of all this our focus has clearly not been on updating our blog.  So here is a review of activities over the past several weeks...

At the end of April, Brin hosted a team that mostly consisted of Amanda's family (Patrick & Laura Kilborn) from Canada.  Amanda has been living with us over the past 6 months helping homeschool Ava and Mia.  The team worked on a construction project here in Altamira and spent 4 days on the river visiting several river churches.  At the end of their stay, Amanda returned to Canada with them, after a good-bye serenade at the airport by her Brazilian friends.

Ava and Mia playing hooky from afternoon church.

Brin teaches kids oral hygiene before distributing toothbrushes and toothpaste that the Canadian team brought. She does this after handing out fistfuls of suckers.

A beach service in one of the communities we visited.

Ava on top of the boat as we travel 

up a small creek to a village.

In keeping with the theme of craziness, Josh's hair has been a preoccupation for many. Including Mia who helped secure his locks from the breezes on top of our boat. 

Brin's birthday fell on the day that the team left.  She was thrilled to be able to plan a trip to the waterfall with the team.

Ava and her friend Maddy made a sand ''hedgehog"'  birthday cake.

On to more recent events...Last weekend Josh helped out with a leadership training weekend that we held for the first time in the area of Surubim, a remote community where Josh has been working.  Usually these trainings are held in Altamira, but because of the cost for leaders living in remote communities to travel into the city, we brought the training to them.  There were about 15 leaders from 4 different remote locations that came to this training.  For many of them, it was probably the first time they ever attended an event that was focused just on them. 

A simple thing like bread was a treat to the leaders who live in the interior and have limited access to bakeries.

Baby steps

It's been almost a month since my accident.  I continue to heal, slower than I'd like, but healing none-the-less.  I'm able to drive the car again, so that helps with feeling less like a caged animal.  

On Easter, the Bergquists and their 4 kids came over for an Easter egg hunt.  I was allowed to oversee the egg hiding, which left me feeling important.  I'm definitely going to enjoy that for as long as I can.  

Mia climbs on my good leg to get an egg hidden in a palm tree.