A New Heart for a Brothel Prostitute

Our team participated in an outreach in an area famous for prostitution in the city of Belo Horizonte. Before I knew it I was climbing up the steps into a brothel with a team of four: Daniel (part of MC Brazil), Esther (YWAMer staff from Switzerland) Jasy (a girl from local Methodist church) and me.

The entire street of Guai Curus is filled with these buildings. Bottom floors are usually regular stores, restaurants or offices, top floors are the “work houses”. Men pour in and out as numerously as ants on an anthill. As we climbed up the slender staircase many times I brushed shoulders with them. But to my surprise, I was not disturbed, disgusted or afraid; I kept my head down and focused. I knew full well these men were just as lost as the women we would be speaking with. It was surreal walking through the dimly lit and narrow corridors which were lined with lime green doors. Many were closed yet a few were slightly ajar. The walls and floors were covered in tiles which seemed to extremely worn down from being stepped on so much; like a surface that has been overused. It was uncommonly quiet accept for the sound of foot steps of the countless men walking to and fro, but even those seemed faded and dull. I watched as many waited for a door to open, only to stick their face in for a peek and decide they’d wait for another door. Like ghosts, these men seemed; with hungry yet strangely empty eyes… almost like zombies… Dead men walking.

We would knock on an open door to let the woman know we wanted to talk. One of us would warmly greet the Lady, who seemed completely unfazed by us seeing her the way she was (almost or completely nude). I remember as I spoke to each woman I looked deeply into their eyes, searching their faces, their features. I’m not sure what I was looking for. Maybe it was my curiosity or maybe I wanted to know… what do you feel now, here in this place? How did you get here? How great is the pain, the cost, of this lifestyle?

I will never forget what happened next. As we turned the corner into the next corridor there she stood, Maria, at her door post inclined against the wall, a middle aged black woman, slightly top heavy, waiting for the next costumer. Little did she or we know that God had intentionally planned our next few moments together. We stopped at her door and began talking to her, telling her why we were there. As soon as she found out we were christian, missionaries, her face lit up. She began to explain her need to us.
“I have a heart condition. My heart is swollen… I might be dying. Do you know where I could find a hospital or clinic where they do these operations for cheap, are there any organizations that might help me with the money.”

As she spoke with Esther my own heart swelled. I watched her as she spoke… Pray for her heart… ever so quietly He spoke it into my ear until it was ringing in my head. I leaned over and whispered in English to Esther, “Do you think I could pray for her?” Esther turned to Maria and asked her in Portuguese, “Ele quer orar por voçê.”
“Oh please, sure, no problem. Come in, come in all of you."
It was almost comical the five of us crowded together in her 6 by 15 ft small room which included just enough space for a bed and a shower in the corner. She flipped off the purple neon light, switched on the regular light and closed the door. She looked like she couldn’t decide what to do. “Should I sit, should I stand?” I smiled and told her it didn’t really matter to God. Esther told her to do what ever felt more comfortable. She sat down on the bed with a smile, she seemed very happy that we were going to pray for her. I sat down beside her on the bed. The thought crossed my mind as to how many men had sat and lain here with her and now we sat here together ready to talk to God. I put my arms around her shoulder and told her that our God not only wanted to give her a new physical heart, but a new heart in general. She smiled a sad smile and nodded knowingly in response, her gaze filled with pain and sorrow. The prayer was short and simple.
“Dear God, I know this is your beloved daughter whom you care for so much, so I ask right now, in this moment, in the name of Jesus Christ that you would give her a new heart…”

That is the only part of the prayer that I fully remember saying. I remember when I said “new heart” it felt like my soul had caught on fire. I felt every measure of faith God had ever allotted to me was screaming out to God- "Give her a new heart! One that beats for you and you alone!" As I closed the prayer, I felt her body shaking against might as she began to weep. I will never forget what she looked like in that moment. Her hands were pressed tightly against her face her arms also firmly against her chest, tears streaming down the parts of her cheeks not covered by her hands. I knew in that moment it was time to do what the Lord had set on my heart. I wrapped my arms around her and put my head against hers and whispered into to her ear.
“This is not me holding you right now, it is the Lord Jesus Christ who is embracing you… My daughter whom I love so much… I created you… I have chosen you…

I kissed her forehead and released her looking up at Esther, Daniel and Jasy. We all looked at each other and we knew; God was doing something there that was beyond any of us. She cried for a little while more than finally looked up.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a half smile. “Its just that not many people pray for us that’s all.”

Later reflection on what had happened that day, I knew for sure a seed of hope had been planted in Maria’s life. I had the strangest sensation that I would see her again someday, in eternity. We’ll walk side by side with our Father... the one who gave us both… new hearts.

"I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols.I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh."

Ezekiel 36:25-26 NIV

You Reap What you Sow!

         When you work with street children, it can be really disheartening. Especially when you come week after week and you see little change. What really helps me hold on and keep hoping is the calling God has given me. I know I am here for “such a time as this” and God has a purpose and a reason for me. But what also helps tremendously is my coaches and classmates… Years ago, same of them were in the exact state of the children we work with.

For example, Pastor Sidney, he ran away from an abusive alcoholic father who frequently and severely beat him, his siblings and his mother. After living through hell he was rescued by people doing the same thing we are. Today he is an amazing man of God who has preached and ministered in over 25 different countries. He’s the one who led a team to Uganda and Sudan this last year of 09… me included! He is currently a teacher at MCB. Missionary Anderson is another amazing example! He also ran away from his family when he was only 8 years old and fell into the world of drug addiction and the dangerous street life of Brazil. He now teaches and trains the students of MCB to minister to street children. Gustavo was also rescued by YWAM. He is now a student here at MCB who I am proud to work alongside of. These people encourage me a lot by their example. They are living proof that it is worth doing what we do.

         But what really has encouraged me recently is seeing the fruit of the labor we do in Christ. This last month the Lord allowed me to see a little peice of the bountiful harvest he has for those who serve him.

         The week I returned from the States back to Brazil I went over to the Youth With A Mission Restoration house- a safe house for boys who want to leave the streets. MCB has a partnership with YWAM as we live and work together. We take the children who want to leave the streets to their shelters where they are given a home, education and best of all chance to learn about and draw near to a God who heals, restores and transforms lives!

          As I walked up the steps to the towards the MC office which is located in the Restoration House I glanced back into the kitchen of the house. That’s when I saw him. My heart did a triple flip as I laid eyes on Vinicios… Could it really be him… Vinicios… Three months ago I was watching him get high off paint thinner. I remembered him well because of his smile. He has an incredible smile. And here he was; not high but sound and sane. He did not flash the same toothy wild smile but instead a softer one. He had the look of some who is happy but has undergone deep… well, deep waters for lack of words. “Vinicios!” I happily laughed as I hugged him. “How are you! I’m so happy to see you here.” I tried to say more but found that I was at a loss for words… I just couldn’t express what was going through my mind. Something deep within my spirit sighed. I looked long and hard into his eyes. He smiled back shyly… “Estou bem tia.” (I’m good aunty) he said.

Every time I think about the atrocities of this world, I say to myself, “God, I wanna do something.” And when God mercifully puts me in a position where I can be used I always think to myself- If I can just make a difference in one persons life… that will be enough for me. One life changed is worth any amount of effort , sweat, tears and blood. And here stood Vinicios… the one life changed.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up”    Galations 6:9

(Vinicios 6 months ago)

Africa 2009; Love like Never Before

If I had one word to describe my experience in Africa it would be simply this: Love. Gods love was so overwhelming and evident to me even from the moment before I stepped on the plane to leave. I was at the airport and I couldn’t believe that I was going to Africa. I felt like God was simply just loving on me as his child and granting me the unspoken desires of my heart. Sure, I had my doubts and insecurities but I knew at that moment that Gods love was coving over all those things. Through out the journey, the feeling only increased. God simply just poured down his love into me, through me and around me. Everything I did was inspired by his consuming love. I felt I was not even doing anything. Instead, I was witnessing love move through me; like being moved by an indescribable force; like being in a dream, the kind you never want to wake up from. The places we went, the children we ministered to, the missionaries we served, the people we spoke with; everyone and everything was like a testimony to me of the depth, the height and the width of Gods amazing love.

God did something very special in my heart during this trip. I had been previously suffocating and numbing my heart to the sorrows of this world. I figured nothing’s ever going to change and no one could really make a difference in these countries where war, rape, corruption, poverty and disease had made their homes. I had almost convinced myself that there was nothing I could do but weep and despair and hope that Jesus would come back soon. So in order to protect my heart I wanted it to become cold. Not angry or cruel, just numb… dead… apathetic…

What God did was extraordinary. He took my heart and brought it back to life. He took my small and insignificant life and showed me how powerful and mighty his love is, even through me. He showed me first hand how his love is sweeping across these nations and bringing hope and restoration in the places and cases I thought there could never be any. God sees the pain of the orphan, he hears the cries of the desolate women who have been mercilessly raped, he’s aware of the turmoil of a county ripped apart by war and violence. He sees and he has a plan and his plan starts with his love… for God so loved the world…

I remember the last few days in Africa when we were leaving from the orphanage in Sudan. I was very much heart broken to say goodbye to the girls. But I remember as we drove away and the fresh morning air cooled my tear stained cheeks, I was filled with such a sense of peace. I was amazed at how much you could love someone when you allow God to love through you. I remember how later that evening as I read my Bible how it had suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks; how much God had loved me and loves me. I was so overwhelmed; for truly, it is an overwhelming feeling. Something I’ve been longing to discover with my heart, not only my mind.

I am very extremely in awe but most of all humbled. Humbled that he would love me so much and ashamed that so many times I don’t recognize and see this love.

Saying goodbye was difficult; saying goodbye to Sudan, Uganda… to Africa. I was saddened to leave but so filled with joy and wonder at what God had done. What his love had done!

So you see I could tell you stories of where we went and what we preached and the number of people who were saved, but that wouldn’t do justice to what God really showed me there. His infinite and perfect love; love like never before.

Have you ever tucked a child into bed?

Written 10/07/09

Have you ever tucked a child into bed? If you’re a parent or you’ve baby sat or perhaps you have a younger sister or brother, you know what I’m talking about. You pull the warm blankets tightly across your little one and tuck the edges around the bed, making sure they are nice and cozy. Perhaps you read a story or sing a song to lull them gently to sleep. You kiss their forehead and bid them goodnight as you lightly close the door behind you.
Today I watched as Marianne, one of my team mates here in MC Brazil, tucked a sweat little girl away to sleep. However, her bed was not warm and cozy one at all. No, it was the hard, cold, wet pavement of a third world country. Marianne did the best she could to lay the sleeping child’s head against the cold metal sheet wall of the store we all had gathered under in attempts to avoid the rain. Ah yes, the rain, not the mention the thunder and lightning. My God, I have never been in the rain like that before. The wind gathers the pelting drops and mercilessly slaps them against your face and body. The thunder shakes you to the core. Marianne held the child inside her sweater as we sang “Mighty to save” together for her. She was fascinated to hear the song in English and asked us to sing it over and over again. I tell you my friends, this was not your average lullaby moment. When it was time to go, the little girl had fallen asleep in Marianne’ s arms. I swallowed hard to hold back the tears as Marianne laid the sleeping girl on the ground alongside a little boy, also fast asleep. I couldn’t believe what I had just seen.

Guys, this is the world we live in! If no one will stand up and do something about things such as these, then how can we expect there to be a brighter day?

First night in the Streets of Brazil

First day on the streets
I’ve been to Brazil before so I’ve seen street kids and I’ve heard about the conditions they live in. But for the first time in my life, I got up close. Thursday night (sept 10th 2009) Our Masters Commission team set out that night to one of the hot spots where the kids like to stay. What I saw and experienced there was indescribable but I’ll do the best I can to put it into words.
Most of the kids there ranged from the ages of 7 to 17. A few older men were present and were obviously in charge of bringing and distributing or selling the paint thinner and other “soft drugs.” Most of the children I sat and talked with were extremely disoriented from smelling paint thinner. I immediately noticed that many held tight wads of cloths in their hands. These they would soak in paint thinner (usually kept in small plastic soda bottles) and continuously hold up to their noses and mouths in order to inhale the dangerous fumes. At first I couldn’t figure out why their hands felt so strange when I first shook them while introducing myself, now I clearly understood.
Our team arrived with one goal in mind; treat these children like Jesus would. Matthew 19:14 Jesus says, let the little children come to me. He clearly values and esteems them and we were there to do the same. These children are considered the outcasts and even the miscreant of society. Many people live in fear and disgust of them due to their condition and also the possibility of assault (some of these children have even committed murder), thus they are largely despised and treated with little value. However, with all this in mind, I felt honored that I was given the same opportunity to treat these kids the way Jesus had treated the outcasts of his time (for example the prostitutes and tax collectors).
I found my little friend that Pastor Sidney had introduced me to the first day I arrived in the city. Her name is Caroline. She’s around 10 or 11 years of age and the cutest little thing you ever saw. Her tan golden skin contrasts beautifully with her deep brown eyes. It broke my heart as I sat with her and watched her bring the tightly wound strip of cloth continuously to her face. She was so innocent… so unaware of what she was doing. When I asked why she was using paint thinner she looked at me so puzzled. “eu nao sei.” (I don’t know) she replied. She shivered in the cool evening air so I sat her on my lap and we began to sing. Jefferson (another one of the members of our team) invited us to play Uno. Just FYI… it’s hard to teach drugged children how to play simple card games. I tried not to laugh when Carolina stuffed all her cards into the deck and asked excitedly if she had won. A little boy younger then Carolina joined us. He was probably around 7or 8. Jefferson quickly discretely informed me he had watched this boy smoke a huge blunt earlier. Marcus (the boy) informed us he didn’t like soft drugs but preferred marijuana and cocaine… I couldn’t believe my ears, this was coming from the mouth of a child younger than 10.
These were only a few of the shocking events of that night. However I saw that we made a difference as we turned to go that night. I knew many had been impacted by the love and value we had shown them during that time. I was able to tell Carolina a little bit of my testimony and to tell her that there was hope. We told the children there was a program they could come to if they wanted to get out of the streets, many of them wanted to come. (FYI for the most part these children don’t want to leave their freedom and drugs and if they did, it would be dangerous because drug lords and deranged abusive parents would come after them.) But I knew that that night we had planted a seed of hope in these children’s’ hearts and I had faith that no many how long it took, God would water and make these seeds grow. Pastor Sidney, Gustavo, Anderson, and Paul Victory were all living testimonies of that… but that’s another story.