Wednesday, October 21, 2009


I have been praying for rain ever since my experience last month with Culture Shock. I am happy to say that my prayers have been answered. We have had rain almost every day, and when it rains in Brazil, it really rains! It comes down in torrents and is always accompanied by thunder and lightening. The storms are so much more powerful than what we are accustomed to in Washington State. I love storms, so this has been very exciting for me. Apparently it is the rainy season so we will be getting plenty of it. A storm is in fact upon us at this moment. I was up videotaping a storm the other night from 2:00-3:00 in the morning! Marko was slightly irritated with me and all of my exclamations of awe! He woke up blurry eyed and told me I reminded him of a little kid in a candy store! The truth is, he loves it almost as much as I do, but not at 2:00 A.M.!

We were blessed on Sunday by some of my English students. They had heard that I was homesick a few weeks ago and decided to plan an American Church Service at our house. They showed up at 10:00 and we sang American worship songs and then they asked us to share our "testimony" about coming to Brazil. Marko shared for about 45 minutes and there were tears all around. We are continually amazed at how our testimony affects some people. We are not super brave or spiritual, we are just normal people who are trying to be obedient to God's call on our lives. We never expected our story to impact people the way that it has. We were humbled and thankful that our friends took the time to bring a little bit of America to our home and for the interest they have in our lives. We miss our church, Stanwood Foursquare, so much. It was emotional for us to sing worship songs in English and made us long for our church in America. After our church service we had Churrasco and I learned how to make Pao de queijo (cheese bread), which is very popular in Brazil. We had a very relaxing afternoon and went to bed feeling very loved and blessed.

I have to share a couple of Gabriella stories from that day. I was in the kitchen preparing breakfast when Gabriella called from the bathroom in a panic. I opened the door to find my daughter bent over with her legs dripping with blood. Apparently, she decided that six years old was a good time to start shaving! She had several cuts on her little legs-one being about an inch long! In all my life I have never had an inch long cut from a raiser, so I have no idea what she was doing! I told her that little girls don't shave their legs and asked her why she wanted to do that. She told me that she was sick of having harry legs! My little girl absolutely floors me!

That same day when our friends arrived for church, Gabriella came outside with pink makeup all over her eyes. She looked beautiful, but she knows that she is not supposed to get into mommy's makeup without asking. I pulled her aside and asked her about it. She said "But I didn't use your makeup mommy!" I asked her to show me what she did use. She pointed to a sparkly, pink, birthday candle from her recent birthday party. Apparently, she rubs her fingers on the candle and then applies the "makeup" to her face. It was so adorable. It caused me to reflect upon the creativity of children.

I am not a parent who has issues with boys playing with fake guns. Most boys will make a gun out of anything. If you deny them the use of play guns, they will use their hand, a piece of wood, or any number of other items. Playing with fake guns is not going to make a boy violent. People typically become violent because they have been mistreated by those people who are supposed to protect them and love them the most. Reflection: Boys will make guns out of anything, and little girls will make makeup out of anything-even a sparkly, pink, birthday candle!

By the way, the picture of Marko is of him eating a chicken heart!

1 comment:

  1. Great stuff. thought of you on last Saturday. it rained, without thunder and lightning, like i haven't seen it rain in a long time. oh and we had 2 soccer games in it.

    love you,