Clarity

Your ears shall hear a word behind you saying, This is the way walk in it, whenever you turn to the right or the left.

Isaiah 30:21

Pilgrims

Fellow pilgrim, we are still midst the shadows and turmoil of earthly activities, but soon our Saviour is to apear to bring deliverance and rest. Let us by faith behold the blessed hereafter as pictured by the hand of God. He who died for the sins of the world is opening wide the gates of Paradise to all who believe on Him.

Soon the battle will have been fought, the victory won. Soon we shall see Him in whom our hopes of eternal life are centered. And in His presence the trials and sufferings of this life will seem as nothingness. The former things will not be remembered or come to mind.

Cast not away therefore your confidence, which has great recompense of reward. For we have need of patience, that after you have done the will of God, you might receive the promise. For yet a little while and He that shall come will come, and will not tarry. P K o.732

Hope

Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us. ~ Romans 5:5

Clinic during March

Sleeping quarters

My stethescope - I love seeing peoples face when they hear their own heat for the first time!

Sunrise from the boat.

Frog Sightings:

My hand automatically jerks back away from the cool clammy something inside the bag of clothespins – then I laugh at myself as a little green frog leaps from his hiding place and bounds off to a new hide-a-way.

A frog hopped out of a toilet when visiting friends.

There is a little frog who lives in our kitchen - I only see him when I turn on the light at night as he darts out of sight.

I found one the size of my thumbnail inside the lid to the water filter.

There is one who lives in Brad and Linas bathroom.

A fat grapefruit-sized frog hops along the side of the house / patio every evening, I named him Fredrick – when I rescued him from the too curious Luzeiro (puppy)

Barefooted Home

Sacks of oranges and tucumá landed near me as the disembarking passengers swarmed off the large double decked boat; a woman carrying a very much alive chicken, another with a white kid goat on a blue string, men are carrying loads of cargo, a thin mother carries a little girl with cerebral palsy in her arms… and I wonder where she is going.

Paulo has negotiated a price for our passage across the river and he motions me to enter the little boat nearby. We are traveling with two of his friends across the Rio Negro to a small community where they have done evangelism in the past. The metal bottom smacks the choppy water as we cut our way between the sea going vessels anchored near the middle of the river and the busy port shrinks behind us into the horizon. Entering a connecting waterway, we cruise for about twenty minutes past little farms with saggy-necked cows on marshy flatlands that will soon be conquered by the rising river.

Abruptly, the driver slows, turns, and nudges the nose of the boat directly into the soft clay bank. Following the others past the patch of cucumbers, down a little dirt trail, and past a couple wooden houses, we come to a pretty school on stilts. It is on stilts like all the other buildings because the river will soon overflow to meet the lake on the other side of this stretch of land. After chatting with a few of the teachers there we set out to visit the families and invite them to a special program Thursday evening.

We wind our way through the maze of little dirt trails that crisscross between wooden houses, and the raised rows of cové, cucumbers, and green onions that are planted in mass quantities in the loamy soil. The wooden houses are clustered in by banana, cupuaçu, açerola, and cacao trees. Around some of the houses pretty flowering bushes have been cultivated, and small plants bloom out of old plastic bottles tacked to the side of the house.

Nearly every family invites us with the simple hospitiality of the ribeirinho culture, but in order to invite as manyas possible we just chit-chat and invite them to the meeting. There is a plastic fuel container at the steps to every home, the top has been cut away and it is filled with river water for washing muddy feet before entering the house. This is my assumption due to the flock of flip-flops that gathers outside. The work boots, muddy from field work, get turned upside down on sticks in the mud.

“Are you the Adventists?” A woman calls out as we pass along side her house, “The ones with a doctor?”“Yes, is someone sick?”After ascertaining that it wasn’t an emergency we promised to try to bring a doctor and medical supplies with us on Thursday when we returned.

Further down, we came along a group of kids playing an odd game involving two broken boards used like base ball bats, a ball, and two empty Guaraná bottles… maybe an amalgamation of baseball and kick the can? Sitting down near a young girl with dangly earrings and a pretty smile, I watched the game with curious interest and listened as Antonio explained about the meetings. When he asked her what topics she would be interested in hearing about she told him that she wanted to know about the end of the world. Another boy walks up dangling a baby alligator by a string tied behind his front legs. The poor thing is tired and angry from being jerked about so much, the wry thought of ‘I would grow up hating humans too’ flicks across my mind.

The next house is the home of an elderly couple bronzed skin and silvery hair, warmly insisting that we enter and visit because the husband can´t attend meetings at the school - it is to far for him to walk. Leaving my flip-flops on the wooden steps, I climb up to greet them. As we talk, I can feel my heart glowing.

My dusty feet belong here - barefooted on the wooden floor beside theirs... at home.