A Brazilian Birth Experience

So, while I was in the hospital, sitting around having some good alone time with Jordan, I decided that it would probably be helpful for me to process some of the things that happened the day before and so I jotted some things down in a journal and wanted to use this blog to continue processing through some of the cultural things I encountered during this experience. After my previous 2 births, I thought this one would probably end up being boring, even though I was having him in another country and I was still very much learning the language… but I was wrong. So I made a list of some of the things that were different for this birth than for the others:

1 – My first 2 births were done in the comfort of my own home (or van) with people I knew and trusted, who really cared for me. Jordan's was in the DIScomfort of a hospital, surrounded by people who I had never met, who were just doing their job, and didn't even seem to enjoy it.

2 – I was warm (even in Dec in KY). Steve and I were joking on the way up about the hospital having heat (because it was about 30 degrees outside) because, of course they have heat in a well known, popular birthing hospital in Curitiba – it’s not like we’re in the jungle… NOPE. And not only did they NOT have heat, but when I got up into my room, my windows were open. Then they give me a “gown”(if you can even call it that) to put on and told me to take everything else off. All that to say, I spent the majority of my labor shivering like crazy and very uncomfortable.

3 – No IV & no meds. Since my doctor ended up inducing my labor because I was over 41 weeks, I had an IV for the first time. Overall I could care less about IVs… I used to give them to myself when I was practicing as a new nurse, but the nurses insisted that I needed it in my AC (for all you nurses out there) which is just the area right where your elbow bends, which meant I couldn’t move my arm & had to keep it straight the entire time I was in labor. The first IV I was given came out of the vein, which meant that the medicine I should’ve been getting for the first 1&1/2 hours was just going into my arm and not into where it was supposed to be going. None of this is a huge deal, it just made things less natural and more annoying for me than anything. And as far as meds go, there was just an expectation that I would take whatever the doc ordered because he is like a god here. So, after the birth, the doc ordered a med to stop my bleeding, and so instead of letting me breastfeed (which does the same thing as the med), they took my baby away from me and gave me a shot in my butt – in the middle of a hallway right at the entrance of the surgery center… good times!

4 – Much less explaining, coaching. My doc was pretty quiet – not sure whether it was because I didn’t speak Portuguese fluently or just because he’s a quiet guy – but there were several things during the labor that I would’ve been much happier if he had explained before doing them (you don’t want me to go into detail about this one ;).

5 – Number of advocates. Well, this is probably one of the biggest ones that I was feeling as we were on our way to the hospital. I was talking to Steve in the taxi and lamenting that I felt like it was me and him against the world. I felt like no one else was on our side in regards to having this baby naturally. I have never had this feeling before, because with my other 2 births I had an amazing support system… midwives who cared for me and my baby, other moms who had given birth naturally, my friends and family. This time I felt like I was going to have to fight about everything (which was kinda the case, but there were things I couldn’t fight and just gave in on – more on that later). Also, I was missin’ my momma. My mom was able to be at both of my kid’s births… Naomi by accident, because she was a week late. And she actually caught Caleb in the back of our van, so she has been an integral part of my birthing experiences, and a part that was missed greatly this time around. Steve was AMAZING & I couldn’t have done it without him – he was a great encourager, advocate, and back pusher J. He knows me so well that he kept all of his jokes in when my legs were being strapped into the stirrups with ace bandages and tape and stayed calm when I was yelling at the doctor in English, and he kept himself from flipping out on the doc when he gave me medicine through my IV without asking or even telling me.

6 – I had to die to some of my desires. With the other births, I had options to find doctors/midwives who have similar opinions as me, so when I made my desires known to them, they understood and respected them. Jordan, at one day old, has already had more vaccinations than his almost 4 year old brother. I was given a shot to slow bleeding after the doc sowed me up, but breastfeeding my baby would’ve done the same thing – instead, I had to be away from him for 2 hours while they had him downstairs in the nursery. Not that I could ever come close to understanding what it feels like to lose a baby at full term, but this time away from him became a time for me to grieve for those who don’t get to look forward to holding their babies when the pain remains after the birth.

I know I’ve been focusing on a lot of the negatives of Jordan’s birth, but there were very good things that came out of this experience. Because I was induced, this was my shortest labor, at just over 3 hours of hard labor - Caleb's was 8 hours & Naomi's 24. Also, even though I was missing my family like crazy, I was able to spend really good one-on-one time with Jordan for the first couple of days because I had to stay in the hospital for the first 48hours. But most importantly, after all is said and done, here is the best thing that came from the whole experience:

A healthy, beautiful baby boy!

I freakin' love our kids!!

So, I was away for part of the day yesterday at an annual outreach that the church does here, and when I got home I had been missing my family. It's interesting how your outlook changes when you're away for a time, even a short time, so after we put the kids down last night, I was reminiscing on how much I love my kids, so I thought I'd let you in on how awesome my little ones are.

I love that Caleb sat at the dinner table last night, quoting Rio with Naomi... they went back and forth for 5 minutes quoting every line, word-for-word. And if I tried to cut in, I was corrected with the exact words that were spoken (my loose translation just wasn't good enough).

I love that Naomi "read" to Caleb last night for almost a half an hour... she definitely isn't quite reading yet, especially in English, but they've heard the stories enough that she was able to get through the books with the general concept, and Caleb just ate it up!

I love that Caleb asks me all the time when baby JellyBelly is coming, he's so excited to be a big brother and have a little baby around that he can love on.

I love that the kids are each other's best friends... well, at least most days :)

I love that Naomi's prayer last night was, "Jesus, thank you for mommy, daddy, Caleb, JellyBelly and everyone. And thank you that you came and died on a cross for us, even when you didn't have to." Neither Steve nor I had talked to her at all about this during the day. I just love when we get glimpses into our kids hearts and minds when they are praying - it's such a cool gift!

I love that both of our kids are just normal kids too... they get into trouble for fighting with each other and they can be selfish and manipulative, but overall I think they're pretty fabulous & I'm blessed that I get to be their mother. I'm thankful for this season of our lives when I can spend most of my time with them (although I can't say there aren't days when I want to get away for a little while) and I can't wait until the newest addition arrives, in just about 5 more weeks or so! We can't wait to meet you, little Jordan!

Update on life

First of all, I just wanted to apologize for our distance for the last couple months… we have had a lot going on, with visitors and traveling, and have found that we are very reluctant to be on the computer when there is opportunity for community in front of us. So, a little (well, maybe big) update on lots of stuff that’s been happening to/with us these last couple months... first, to start the month of May out, our Pastoral Care staff from The Mission Society, Lauren & JoAnn Helveston came and stayed with us for a week. It was a great opportunity to share life with them and get to have some good, deep discussions about our life and ministry here. During that time, we took a trip over to Morretes (the city we’ll be moving to in September) and had a good opportunity to talk about expectations for us at the children’s home and get to know the staff and kids a little bit more

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The same day Lauren & JoAnn left, our good friends, Mason & Melody Reedy came to stay with us for the last 3 weeks that we were in Brazil. During the time they were here, we had the opportunity to experience our first American short-term missions team, got to hang in the favela and at friend's houses with them... it was so great to see how quickly our Brazilian friends fell in love with them. It was also really cool for Steve to get to show them where we're going to move and get to introduce them to some of the kids we'll be working with at the children's home in Morretes. We were blessed that they were with us on the day that we left to return to the States. Naomi woke in an episode, and they prayed for us and were a source of support during that rough time. Overall, they were a huge blessing and we are thankful that they chose to take 3 weeks out of their time to come spend with our family!

Time in the US:

Left with the girl in an episode, which was an experience all in and of itself… not sure how smart it was getting on an airplane and increasing the pressure in her brain while she was in the episode, but we did it anyways… it added some crazy amount of work to travel, but I’m glad we did it. She came out of the episode right before we got on our long flight to Panama, which was an answer to prayer for me, and the pressure didn’t seem to affect her in any way. We arrived in Florida at 1am and were picked up by my mom, sister Jackie, and brother Kedrick. Thankfully, both kids are amazing at being able to sleep anywhere, so after the letdown of finding out they had to sit in carseats (it had been a whole year since they’d even seen one), and the excitement wore off of getting to hang with family, they were fast asleep.

The rest of that next week was spent catching up with loved ones and getting ready for Steve’s brother’s wedding because Saturday was the big day! The kids were so excited to get to be the flower girl and “sword bearer” at the wedding. Uncle Scott had carved a piece of driftwood into a sword for Caleb to carry the rings with, which turned out really cool; and the fact that Caleb didn’t injure anyone as he walked down the aisle made it even better J. The kids did an amazing job at the wedding and even into the late hours of the night as we got to celebrate with Scott & Liz at the reception.

The next week was filled with continuing to catch up with people we hadn’t seen in a year and then we began our travels to Orlando & Jacksonville. We stayed with our dear friends, Joe & Mindy Eichorn, and their little ones – Natalie & Nicholas, and had a great time. They were gracious enough to open their house for us to have people come and hang with us there, which allowed us to see a bunch more people than we would've in the short time we were there. We are so blessed to have such dear friends that we can connect with, even when we haven't seen them in a long time.

From there we headed to Jacksonville to stay with some dear friends there and visit their church where the atmosphere is an open and loving place. The couple of days before we got there had been a hard and exhausting time for us, as our precious daughter had 3 episodes in 3 days. We were pretty much at a loss for what to do from there because we had been as strict on the diet as we could possibly be, and she was having more problems as a result of it, so we decided that if the diet wasn't helping then we would take her off of it and let the poor girl eat. So we did. Her first meal on a "normal" diet was at Firehouse Subs and I actually cried watching her eat... she was SO excited just to get to eat a sub again! I think she ate the thing down in 3 bites, all the while giggling and announcing to everyone that she was eating a sub. It's now been 3 weeks since we started her back on this regular diet and she has been doing great! We were able to have several restful days in Jacksonville, while we hung out with friends and vegged, and then headed back toward Venice. We decided to stop back in Orlando to shorten the trip for the kids and also allow us to see a couple more friends that we weren't able to see on the way up. We had plans, before Naomi's episodes, to travel up to GA and see some friends and visit The Mission Society, but decided it would be wiser for us to have some down time and not return back to Brazil more tired than when we left.

The last week seemed to fly by, as we were making last-minute purchases and making sure we had everything we would need for when the baby comes. We were thankful to be able to spend some good quality time with our friends, Sarah & Anthony and the kids were ecstatic to be able to wake up and play with their son, Abraham while we were staying there, who is one of their best friends. Also, Naomi got to have a princess sleepover with another good friend of hers, which pretty much made the trip for Naomi. We were also able to have a quick lunch with our soon-to-be intern, Brittany, and it was great getting to know her a little bit - we really look forward to working/living life with her when she gets down to Curitiba. We're so blessed by the friends we have and were grateful for the time we had to see some of you... and bummed at the same time that we didn't get to see everyone that we wanted, but thankfully we'll be back in December and will get to spend time with others that we didn't get to see on this trip.

Our trip back was a little less eventful than the one coming to the States, but was much longer as our first flight was cancelled and we were sent up to Atlanta for a 9+ hour layover. This actually turned out to be a blessing, as we were able to hop over to The Mission Society office and hang with some wonderful people there for a couple hours. It was a good time and the kids did a great job traveling. After that, we were homebound and other than being absolutely exhausted when we got home, everything went great. We're so blessed to have such great travelers, and we're praying that this next little guy is as good as the other 2 - guess we'll find out in December :)

Will try to be better about keeping up on here as much will be happening in our life in the coming months. Thank you all for walking this journey with us and for your prayers... we are more and more aware of our need for them every day that passes.

The Heart Attack of Senhor Flavio

After the past couple of weeks, we thought this humorous story fitting. More serious posts to come, but for now . . .

Senhor Flavio is our landlord. He's the man to whom we pay rent. He's Brazilian, but his German roots and accompanying obsessive compulsiveness and control issues are very apparent in nearly everything he does. I'm not sure if it's better now that we can communicate more effectively, it was much nicer when we could just nod and smile and wonder why he walked away shaking his head.

When you ask a question to Senhor Flavio's children, he answers for them. His youngest is 28. Senhor Flavio washes EVERYTHING, even dirt. I can't explain this in English, we have our clean freaks, but this man shames them all. We are the Mersingers, clean is a relative term, imagine the context.

So I'm sitting on my bed this morning rubbing my feet, still jet-lagged and exhausted from this past week. Have had a wonderful time back with Shannon and the kids, arrived to see Naomi speaking about 50% more Portuguese than when I left. I think she's about caught up to us in just the past week.

As I was sitting I hear a "scream" of sorts. I recognize my name mixed in with some new interjections. I run out to see Senhor Flavio ascending the stairs screaming "my wall, my wall, my beautiful wall"!

One more interjection, they don't have chalk here in Brazil, that we've seen, certainly not the kind that kids use to color walls and roads with.

He arrives nearly in tears, asking me what we let happen. Pointing and screaming at the mural that Naomi and Caleb began their day drawing. He says "it is ugly, it's so UGLY, it's ruined, I will have to repaint everything". I began to explain that it is children's chalk and that it will come right off. He screams, "NEVER, I've already tried, it is there forever, it's SO UGLY, I will have to repaint everything the entire wall, because it will have to match the new paint". I apologized and took his feelings sincerely, but kindly asked for five minutes to try myself.

I now know what the face of Martha looked like when she received her brother Lazarus back from death. It was like Senhor Flavio's when I clapped my hands downstairs from his kitchen and called him out to observe. He beamed, his precious wall was saved. He thanked me over and over, said that he was so scared, and so amazed at how we restored it so quickly.

So, thank you Sarah Reynolds for the chalk. However, we won't be using it anymore in this location. It's not worth killing our landlord over. Somehow he still likes us, even though we're a terror to his precious environment.

It was a huge disappointment for the kids, so we had a whole morning explaining property rights and the Kingdom of God to our 5 and 3 year olds. That Jesus loved their work and all IS truly His, but we also live in a broken place with OCD old men and from this perspective it is his wall and we can't draw on it anymore. Caleb refuses to concede and spent an hour lamenting his loss, Naomi struggled also, but made up a song that she told us is entitled the Mourning Song, and after singing it to the wall as she sat on our steps, is feeling better.

I could create a new blog centering on our adventures with Senhor Flavio, but though it might interest some others, it's just become a bore for us, but at least a humorous bore.

The Baby Name Game

So . . . for the first time, we aren't set on a name three years ahead of time. We were, but Steve changed his mind. If it were a girl, we were set. However, baby Buzz Lightyear Optimus Prime Mersinger threw a wrench in that. Caleb is serious about this name, Naomi insists a baby brother named Hannah will make her happy enough.

The challenge at this stage in the game, is that we have to find a name that works in two languages. Steve LOVES the name Seth, and is really pushing for it. However, Brazilians CAN NOT make the TH sound, at any place in any word. It's extremely hard for them, so Seth, Adam and Eve's third son, is translated in the Bibles here as Sete. Kind of sounds like sechee. Steve likes the symbolism, Seth, the renewal of creation after Cain and Abel, after all of the loss that we've had, this kid brings hope for a new start. The biggest problem for me, the Portuguese word sete is the number 7! Steve even went as far to argue that this is fine because, counting miscarriages, Seth would be number 7 for us! Sorry, I'm not naming my baby Seven. It might have helped my dad, since he refers to us by number anyways, but I just can't let that fly.

The initial name we had agreed upon was Isaiah, but Steve changed his mind and doesn't like it anymore. We're trying to stick with Bible names, but I won't let Steve go with Heman, Goliath, Sampson, or any of the extremely odd ones like Elkiniah. Meaning is important to us, but so is our kid not being a prime candidate for wedgies based solely upon his name.

The middle name is settled, it'll be Daniel, in honor of our good friend Danny Smith. Sorry to any other Daniel's out there, we wanted to be honest, but you can rejoice in the fact that you weren't part of a conversation that went something like . . . I could never give my kid the name Daniel because of Daniel . . . . So again, Rejoice! :)

We've kind of whittled it down to three options at this point, though the book is still open, and we are receiving suggestions. Jordan Daniel (this is the closest we've both come to agreeing, the problem is the translation Jordão (JordOW) is only used as the river), we've been told it could fly if we don't translate and just tell people Jordan, they'll still have trouble pronouncing a little bit but it could work as a name. The next is Simon Daniel, we're not crazy in love with the name, but it fits here, even the translation Simão (SeemOW). Finally, a name both of us love, but don't necessarily want to give to our kid, but it works great in both languages, Gabriel Daniel.

Your thoughts???

Glutaric Acidemia - MOST BORING BLOG EVER

I hope that you will forgive the "monthly phone call from Grandma" format I've chosen to go with. I don't believe that anyone particularly enjoys an onslaught of medical diagnosis descriptions, however, since so many of you have invested your time and prayer into the life of our daughter, we thought this would be the best way to give a comprehensive update. If you're already up to date, or simply not interested, please feel free to grab our blessing and insistence to pass on this and run!

It was a great comfort to us as we were preparing to leave that we came face to face with nothing but encouragement and blessings from all of those who support us. From our church, our friends, our cheerleaders. We had expected, to be honest, more than a few comments tossed out such as "looks like God's trying to tell you guys something". It was hard enough to go through everything, we were thankful that we didn't meet any of that. We believe that the Lord does move like that, we know a plethora of faithful people who planned to head to the mission field or were there, and were called back to their home country because of a health issue in the family. However, for us in particular, we consistently felt affirmation and confirmation to move ahead with this call upon our lives to do mission work here in Brazil.

Since arriving, we've met nothing but deeper confirmation that we were thinking of what was best for our daughter and being faithful as well. The medical system in the States is good, we were very thankful for the care we received. However, for Naomi's condition in particular, we met the one doctor in Miami who made an amazing presumptive diagnosis, and no one else had ever heard of it. To be fair, they've estimated less than 100 people have this disorder in the whole of the United States, it's skewed towards native tribal populations, and the majority of the cases are of a severe nature that leaves the child dead before the age of 3. To be defensive, Shannon and I are not related, we've checked on ancestry.com :).

Since arriving here in Brazil, we've made contact with four different doctors who had intimate knowledge of this particular genetic disorder. While it is still a "presumptive" diagnosis, we picked up an order yesterday for a lab to be drawn that will give conclusive results. It's a complete genetic analysis that our Brazilian insurance will cover, that is not done in the states for less than the lifeblood of the person you want to cure (it's expensive).

To top that, we met with a nutriologist (don't think we have those back home) it's a nutritionist who is also a licensed and practicing doctor. She had intimate knowledge of Glutaric Acidemia and put together a diet plan for us. This is where this blog gets juicy, at least as juicy as a blog written about glutaric acidemia can get.

Naomi has had much fewer and less severe episodes since we've arrived. Four major ones, with a bit of paralysis, but no seizures. The first two because we were still learning to read food labels, assumed pasta was safe, and fed her bowls full of noodles made from eggs, not with, from! We took her to the hospital once to get the ball rolling with the doctors here, but the rest we road out at home, with seizure medication as a back up, and just waited for it to pass. She's continued to develop fine, has started school, and everything had been pretty great. Though she had started to wet her bed again, for a few months straight, and would weaken considerably after a half hour of running or playing she would lose her ability to walk properly and we'd have to carry her home.

Since visiting with this Nutriologist, we learned that it is not just animal proteins or meat, cheese, and egg that we must avoid, but protein in general. Specifically, limit her to fifteen grams per day. Even more important, the particular amino acids Tryptophan and Lysine (which form glutaric acid, the thing her body can't process normally) are what we needed to focus on. The diet plan we were given was built around the limitation of Lysine to 2000mg per day.

The rough news is, the things that we were using as staples, potatoes, rice, beans, and bananas all of the sudden hit the prohibited list. They're extremely low in protein, but the protein they do have is composed of Lysine and Tryptophan. Even in cutting out major proteins, the things we were leaning on were still creating a toxic environment in her body. So for the past month we've been diving into new foods, new recipes, new torture devices to force vegetables down her fried chicken loving little throat. j/k. She's taken to it wonderfully, even though she's expressed sadness over losing yet more foods. For the past month, she's had energy out the wazoo again, can run for hours without any strange side effects, she's quit wetting her bed, and her only "issue" was a little five minute loss of speech and movement on this past Saturday because her teacher forgot about our requests and gave her some chocolate cake for a class party.

All in all we really feel as though we've gotten a handle on all of this. Most of the research we've done says that a case as mild as hers is easily manageable. It's not something that she'll ever grow out of, but as she grows and her weight increases, in most cases the metabolic crises cease as well.

We just ask that you'd continue to join us in prayer, we still would love to see an act of complete healing and our little girl stuffing pizza down her face again someday. Even more important for our mental sanity, that this genetic analysis confirms the diagnosis, and if not, that I restrain myself from going Sampson on our block of four apartments here, calling all of our Brazilian neighbors Philistines, and trying to bring the roof down with my forehead.

A very late post from our hospital experience

So, as most of you know, Naomi had an episode a little over a month ago and we decided to take her to the ER so that we could start the process of having her seen by docs here in Brazil. Thankfully, the pastor we work under was able to drive us to the children's hospital and be there with us.

When we arrived at the ER, we were taken directly to the triage area and evaluated by the people there (I never really know who I'm dealing with because they don't introduce themselves... an interesting concept for me, but what do ya do?)and sent to see an ER doc for the initial evaluation. When we arrived in this room, Naomi was in a part of her episodes that have been the most difficult for me... it's about 1/2 hour into the episode and she normally has been sleeping for a couple minutes and when she wakes up she cries for a some time and then falls back asleep... this normally lasts for between an hour or 2, but she is absolutely inconsolable during this part of the episode and this time in the ER shed some light on what might be happening during this period to make her this way. As the doc was evaluating her, he stood her on the floor and the first thing she did was put her hands up in front of her face like she was trying to protect herself and she slowly laid herself down on the floor and got in the fetal position. After this, the doctor asked me to call her, and so standing about 3 feet away, I started calling her name and telling her I was there... the doc stood her up and this time she started walking in circles, crying, with her hands up by her face still. It appeared that her senses were totally shut down... I don't think she could see or hear me and it was probably the worst feeling in the world! It was everything in me not to bawl my eyes out!

Well, from there we sat in the ER for about another 2 hours, spoke to a couple more docs who decided to admit her and then moved up to our room for the night. Because of some craziness with our Brazilian insurance, we ended up being admitted under the Brazilian national health insurance.

Besides the fact that we're definitely still learning Portuguese, there were many other things that made the visit somewhat (ok, a lot) more uncomfortable than past hospitalizations. Here's a few of those things:

-Instead of the ACH suite, we were in a roughly 8'x 10' room with no A/C to be shared with two other patients. The kids all stuffed into tiny baby cribs and the parents left with a chair that could recline more if the room were bigger.
-About an hour before bed the moms left and the dads arrived to spend the night, so I spent the night with two other men and woke up about every fifteen minutes after accidental games of footsies.
-I was only allowed to keep a tiny plastic bag of my own stuff in Naomi's room with us because of infection control purposes.
-Since the rooms were so small, only one adult was allowed in the room at a time, except for the 1 hour visitation period between 2pm and 3pm. Whoever was staying was identified by these hideous smocks that had to be worn at all times. I got yelled at by security because I had it draped over my shoulder, and it had to be worn PROPERLY.

But there were also blessings that accompanied this interesting time in the hospital and they were as follows:

-I got to meet 2 new Brazilian couples who were really cool, and had some good conversations with them, which was encouraging in regards to how well I'm picking up Portuguese.
-We got to pray for one of Naomi's roommates who was going in for brain surgery the day we were discharged... she had been in the hospital for 2 months already and was a sweet little 3 year-old girl.
-We were able to get connected with some other doctors who are knowledgeable about Glutaric Acidemia (the genetic problem they think Naomi has) and have been able to become more knowledgeable also, which has been fabulous.

Well, if you're still there, thanks for hanging in this long. And thank you even more, for walking this crazy journey with us! We wouldn't be able to do it without the amazing support of those who love us!
Tchau, for now.

They Might Buy Food

I wanted to take a second to reflect on something that I wrestle with. Specifically to give or not to give, when you're encountered on the street by someone who is begging. Almost anyone who lives in a large city or has traveled abroad has to wrestle continually with what to do in these situations. Many people develop a rule or a consistent pattern for dealing with this, whether to never give, to always give, to never give money, to always give whatever. I'm not writing this to criticize a particular perspective or to give my opinion on what is the best, but simply to share out of my struggle.

I was walking to buy some groceries a couple of weeks ago and this guy came riding up to me on a bike. He skids to a stop, hops off, limps and says "brother, brother, I need 2 bucks to get some bandages for my leg". He then lifts up his Jean legs and shows me this horrifying gash about the length AND width of my forearm running down his leg. There's maggots and flies in it and it was everything in me not to vomit. When I was younger, I would've just started emptying my wallet. It saddens me to say that the years and some hurtful experiences have hardened me. I know in many ways it can be for the better, but still, I stared at this obvious need and paused. I knew in my head, and have met in experience, people whose addiction is so deep that they're capable of doing something this atrocious to themselves just to up the anty in pursuing their fix.

As I stood there staring, thoughts ran through my head. The predominant one, a line of thought that I can't stand, "he might buy drugs, he might buy alcohol, he might use it for something bad and then you're supporting that". It's true, he might. Then a thought I've heard less frequently, but one that is more dear to my heart "he might buy food, he might buy the bandages, he might get some water". It's always easier to hold onto the first thought, because you can walk away feeling safe, even if you were wrong.

For me, I don't have a pattern. I fight with all my heart and soul to keep from developing one. I try, as cliché as it might sound, to really let Jesus lead me in these circumstances. Yet, nearly every situation, whether I give or withhold, I walk away. Sometimes I have a sense of peace, sometimes I don't. Developing a pattern would be easier, it might make me feel better, but I feel (at least for myself) that this agonizing and wrestling is a good place where Jesus meets me, a place where He wants me to be.

If I still feel bad, I stay thankful that I'm not in a position like an old missionary to Hong Kong named Jackie Pullinger constantly found herself in. She ministered in the walled city, one of the dingiest red light/drug districts you could find yourself in. She earned the trust of the people and has a powerful ministry to opium addicts. She writes in her book, Chasing the Dragon, about some of the guys who came to trust her coming and asking her for money. They were straight up honest, they were going to use it to buy drugs. The simple answer is NO! I'm a missionary, of course I won't give it to you for that. Yet, she knew these guys well, knew the context, understood the whole picture. She was their last resort, if she didn't give, they were heading out of the walled city to mug, and often murder, someone to get the cash they needed for their fix. To give, was to support the drug habit and impending death of her friend in front of her, but to not give might cost the life of someone else. She said, she never stopped wrestling with what she should do.

Ano Novo, Vida Nova

New Year, New Life! It does feel extremely refreshing to "fit in" again, not that fitting in is something we've done very well anywhere we've been. Yet, to feel adjusted, comfortable, and even sometimes understood in our new environment has brought the stress and tension way down and started to make life feel "normal" again.



It was tough being away from family and friends through this first holiday season. But we've really had a blast and taken full advantage of the opportunities presented to us in the midst of this. The first challenge in this has been the weather. While many people would miss cold Christmases, it's never been something we've counted on growing up in Florida. Yet, several weeks into summer, we've hit the 80's today for about the fifth time. This city is cold!!! So for us, it was a cold Christmas.

The second challenge, and most shocking thing to us, is how this city empties during this time of year. Curitiba has roughly 3 million people. It's the 6th largest city of Brazil. However, because the retirement of Brazilians is provided for socially, the main type of investment for anyone with any kind of money is in real estate, specifically, on the coast. So when you have the colossal collision of Christmas, New Years, and Summer Break for school kids, everyone heads for the coast. Because of this, tons of people get laid off within the city, or put on break from their jobs. They also head for the beach towns where seasonal employment opportunities explode. It's a strange dance, an odd cultural pattern that we're living in the midst of.

With all that said, most of our friends bailed mid-December and said they'd see us again in February. Thankfully, a few of our friends, seeing that we'd be alone for Christmas, invited us to come crash on their sister's floor in a beach town called Itapóa. So we hopped a bus on Christmas eve and stayed four days down in Itapóa in a state south of here called Santa Catarina. It was beautiful, reminded us a bit of home, and gave us the opportunity to rest, enjoy the beach, and pass the holiday with dear friends. It also provided for us the opportunity to celebrate Brazilian style.

It's a shock to us that Brazilians don't seem to suffer holiday fatigue, especially given that Brazil has seemingly, at least one holiday per week. I've always loved holidays, and felt something special during these stations of life, but like most people I know within our own culture, they wear you down. My birthday is Dec. 23 and my mom's is Dec. 6 so we started the festivities at Thanksgiving and continued on through New Year's, it was always such a full time of the year. My poor brother whose birthday arrives on January 12, each year, normally got a few gifts in the mail and people complaining or making excuses why they couldn't make a birthday party for him, they were just too worn out!

I've spent quite a bit of time reflecting during this season, and my mind has continually drifted towards Jesus' teachings regarding the Sabbath - was it made for man or man made for it. I think holidays can be reflected on in the same way, do they exist for us or do we exist for them. Too often in my life, it's become the latter. I've come to exist for the holidays, offer my life in service to its' success and completion, and come out of it worn, exhausted, and glad only that it is over and won't have to be done again for a while.

While there are some styles of Brazilian celebration, traditions, and customs that are different and interesting and enjoyable; the main thing that has stuck out to me is the attitude. It's now January 5th and walking to the grocery store and back I had four people tell me felicidades or feliz ano novo. My attitude the past four days was, "really, dude, it's over, move on". In my mind, you say Happy New Year on the first, check that off of your list, and the next day move on, already having screwed up on your resolutions, accepting that life is just life and it was just another day. But I'm learning something from the people here, who see this time of year as charged with opportunities of genuine change and transformation in their lives.



I was buying some bread yesterday afternoon and a man was talking with the owner and asking him about some problems that had been going on. He laughed and smiled and said "ano novo, vida nova". New year, new life. He didn't say it with skepticism or cynicism, but hope and expectation. It rocked me and encouraged me, it's contagious. I want to walk in that childlike faith again that can look at something as simple as a "special day" and bring meaning and hope out of the heart of it and use it.