A few weeks ago, during the last ten minutes of the Thursday night holiness meeting, a man ran into the church whilst people were praying for each other in pairs. He lent on the back bench and in a breathless voice said, 'Someone help me, please'. I asked the Sergeant Major, G, to speak with him and G took him into another room.
Some of the women stopped praying and became very concerned. The man was obviously running away from someone and we wondered if someone else or a group of people were going to follow him into the hall. I asked C if we should close the doors which are always wide open during every meeting but she said that we should leave them open because we do not know what this man might do.
After the meeting was over, I locked the church and came to the front gate where two of the women were laughing. They told me that the Sergeant Major had taken the frightened man home. I asked them why they were laughing and they said that the man had been running away from his wife!
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
A tragic event on the Avenida.
It is not very often that you can thank God that you were ill but half way through last week I realised that it was probably good that my family and I were in our apartment at tea-time last Saturday and it was because I was feeling unwell.
We had planned to visit some friends and have a meal together but I had felt very flu-ey since Thursday and by Saturday morning I just couldn't get out of bed. So, reluctantly P phoned and cancelled. I slept until 4:30pm and P and A went to the market. They were back by 5;00pm and I joined them to watch a DVD. I prayed that I would feel well enough on Sunday to go to church because I had lots of people to talk to and the new Bible Study groups were going to have their first session.
When I woke up on Sunday I still felt unwell but all the flu-ey symptoms had disappeared and I felt well enough to go to the hall. During the morning meeting the Sergeant Major spoke to me. He told me that on Saturday evening the father of the man who lives in the house next to the hall had been shot and killed on the Avenida. When I had the time I googled the news story to find out the details and it was true. The 68 year old business man had left his Auto Parts shop at 6:30pm on Saturday and got into his Corsa. As he drove up to the traffic lights a man on a motorbike stopped and shot at him through the glass of the back seat window. The shot killed him. This happened on the Avenida, very close to where we live. If we had visited our friends that day we would probably have been arriving home at that time.
I cannot say if God saved us from witnessing or being involved in this tragedy but I do know that because I was ill we were all safe in our apartment at the time that it happened and for that I can thank God.
How can a person cope with the sudden, traumatic death of a loved one? The man who was killed had lived in Sao Miguel for 38 years and was well known in this area. His son, daughter in law and 7 year old grandson live in the house next to our church. I prayed that God would open the door so that I would have the opportunity to offer some love and support. My first few attempts bore no fruit but on Sunday I asked G to come with me and together we rang the bell. The son came to the gate and opened it to us and we talked together at the entrance to the house. He gladly received the card and plant that I offered to him on behalf of the church members and he said that he would give them to his mother who is 64 years old. As I struggled to speak in Portuguese he told me that he could speak some English and so the door was open for me to bring words of support and comfort to him.
We don't know why this tragedy has happened and why the man on the motorcycle would want to kill a 68 year old businessman but we do know that we do not want it to happen again. So, not only are we praying for the family who are bereaved, but we are also praying that God will bring peace and safety to this neighbourhood.
We had planned to visit some friends and have a meal together but I had felt very flu-ey since Thursday and by Saturday morning I just couldn't get out of bed. So, reluctantly P phoned and cancelled. I slept until 4:30pm and P and A went to the market. They were back by 5;00pm and I joined them to watch a DVD. I prayed that I would feel well enough on Sunday to go to church because I had lots of people to talk to and the new Bible Study groups were going to have their first session.
When I woke up on Sunday I still felt unwell but all the flu-ey symptoms had disappeared and I felt well enough to go to the hall. During the morning meeting the Sergeant Major spoke to me. He told me that on Saturday evening the father of the man who lives in the house next to the hall had been shot and killed on the Avenida. When I had the time I googled the news story to find out the details and it was true. The 68 year old business man had left his Auto Parts shop at 6:30pm on Saturday and got into his Corsa. As he drove up to the traffic lights a man on a motorbike stopped and shot at him through the glass of the back seat window. The shot killed him. This happened on the Avenida, very close to where we live. If we had visited our friends that day we would probably have been arriving home at that time.
I cannot say if God saved us from witnessing or being involved in this tragedy but I do know that because I was ill we were all safe in our apartment at the time that it happened and for that I can thank God.
How can a person cope with the sudden, traumatic death of a loved one? The man who was killed had lived in Sao Miguel for 38 years and was well known in this area. His son, daughter in law and 7 year old grandson live in the house next to our church. I prayed that God would open the door so that I would have the opportunity to offer some love and support. My first few attempts bore no fruit but on Sunday I asked G to come with me and together we rang the bell. The son came to the gate and opened it to us and we talked together at the entrance to the house. He gladly received the card and plant that I offered to him on behalf of the church members and he said that he would give them to his mother who is 64 years old. As I struggled to speak in Portuguese he told me that he could speak some English and so the door was open for me to bring words of support and comfort to him.
We don't know why this tragedy has happened and why the man on the motorcycle would want to kill a 68 year old businessman but we do know that we do not want it to happen again. So, not only are we praying for the family who are bereaved, but we are also praying that God will bring peace and safety to this neighbourhood.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Brazilian Beggars
Last Wednesday was a cold day in Sao Paulo so when I went to my portuguese class at Mackenzie University I wore the jacket that P gave me for my birthday last year. It made me a target for beggars who tend to ask the more smartly dressed pedestrians for money because they assume that they have more money than the less smartly dressed pedestrians.
As I walked back to the metro from the university I was stopped by a small, middle aged woman who told me a long story about her daughter who was sick. I explained that I couldn't understand everything she was saying because I only speak portuguese a little. She summed everything up for me in one English word, 'Money'.
In these circumstances I always follow the example of Peter in the New Testament and I said, 'I can't give you any money but I do have Jesus. Can I say a prayer for your daughter?' The woman walked away as soon as she realised that I wasn't going to give her any money but her son and daughter looked surprised and a little interested. The teenage girl was wearing a face mask and her brother explained that she had a problem with her stomach. I don't know if that was true but I said I would pray for them in the street if they were willing. So, as I was praying for the young girl her mother continued to beg from other passers by and her brother stood beside her in support. The young girl closed her eyes and I prayed a very simple prayer in my simple portuguese that God would heal her and that she would know the power of the Holy Spirit in her life. I left her with a hug and a promise to continue to pray for her which I did as I continued to walk down to the metro.
As I was praying I asked God if I had done the right thing and I received a challenge. I have prayed with alot of beggars in the past two years who, I suspect, humour me while I am praying in the hope that they will receive something at the end of the prayer. I felt God saying it is good to pray for people but instead of just witnessing to Jesus why not ask them to put their own faith in Jesus? What really brings life changing power into a person's life? It's when they themselves put their trust in Jesus, repent of their sin and accept His forgivenes and love. When they are fully given over to Him then He is able to work in their life in an amazing and powerful way. I can be absolutely sure of that because that is what Jesus has done for me.
As I walked back to the metro from the university I was stopped by a small, middle aged woman who told me a long story about her daughter who was sick. I explained that I couldn't understand everything she was saying because I only speak portuguese a little. She summed everything up for me in one English word, 'Money'.
In these circumstances I always follow the example of Peter in the New Testament and I said, 'I can't give you any money but I do have Jesus. Can I say a prayer for your daughter?' The woman walked away as soon as she realised that I wasn't going to give her any money but her son and daughter looked surprised and a little interested. The teenage girl was wearing a face mask and her brother explained that she had a problem with her stomach. I don't know if that was true but I said I would pray for them in the street if they were willing. So, as I was praying for the young girl her mother continued to beg from other passers by and her brother stood beside her in support. The young girl closed her eyes and I prayed a very simple prayer in my simple portuguese that God would heal her and that she would know the power of the Holy Spirit in her life. I left her with a hug and a promise to continue to pray for her which I did as I continued to walk down to the metro.
As I was praying I asked God if I had done the right thing and I received a challenge. I have prayed with alot of beggars in the past two years who, I suspect, humour me while I am praying in the hope that they will receive something at the end of the prayer. I felt God saying it is good to pray for people but instead of just witnessing to Jesus why not ask them to put their own faith in Jesus? What really brings life changing power into a person's life? It's when they themselves put their trust in Jesus, repent of their sin and accept His forgivenes and love. When they are fully given over to Him then He is able to work in their life in an amazing and powerful way. I can be absolutely sure of that because that is what Jesus has done for me.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Metro Rage! Part Two
In recent years I have come to realise that I need God to help me with the issue of anger.
It became even clearer to me on the day that a mob of Brazilians pushed their way into the train at Brás as I was attempting to get out of the train with a suitcase in one hand and the hand of my little boy in the other threatening to lose contact with him. I shouted, ´Stop!´several times in English before I realised that I would be more effective if I was shouting in portuguese! So, I began to shout, ´Pare´and eventually we were able to leave the train. But I had completely lost it and I felt a mascara smudge of emotion afterwards.
I think the Holy Spirit may have been doing some work in me because today I was back at Brás and I could see that there was a crowd ready to push their way onto the train as we slowed to a halt at the station platform. As the doors opened and the crowd surged forward with no consideration to the people in front of them trying to leave the train, I found myself saying, `Com Licença´(Excuse me). This lasted a few seconds until someone banged hard into my shoulder and I said, ´Come on, let´s show some manners people!´in my best English accent, not caring whether they understood or not.
I am not sure how close to holiness that is, but I did feel a little calmer and I only held the grudge against the person who banged into me until I reached the top of the escalator!
It became even clearer to me on the day that a mob of Brazilians pushed their way into the train at Brás as I was attempting to get out of the train with a suitcase in one hand and the hand of my little boy in the other threatening to lose contact with him. I shouted, ´Stop!´several times in English before I realised that I would be more effective if I was shouting in portuguese! So, I began to shout, ´Pare´and eventually we were able to leave the train. But I had completely lost it and I felt a mascara smudge of emotion afterwards.
I think the Holy Spirit may have been doing some work in me because today I was back at Brás and I could see that there was a crowd ready to push their way onto the train as we slowed to a halt at the station platform. As the doors opened and the crowd surged forward with no consideration to the people in front of them trying to leave the train, I found myself saying, `Com Licença´(Excuse me). This lasted a few seconds until someone banged hard into my shoulder and I said, ´Come on, let´s show some manners people!´in my best English accent, not caring whether they understood or not.
I am not sure how close to holiness that is, but I did feel a little calmer and I only held the grudge against the person who banged into me until I reached the top of the escalator!
Monday, April 4, 2011
Reaching out to the homeless
Every day we see homeless people on the streets of Sao Miguel and every day I remember that we are The Salvation Army so shouldn't we be doing something about it?
In the UK The Salvation Army has Lifehouse Centres which provide professional help and support for people who, through different life circumstances, find themselves homeless or suffering with an addiction to drugs or alcohol. Whilst working in the UK whenever I met someone with a need in this area it was a fairly easy task to link them up with the nearest Salvation Army Centre. It is different here.
In Brazil The Salvation Army has many social projects but they tend to work mainly with children and adolescents. This is also a great area of need in this country where the population has become accustomed to the fact that hundreds of children live on the streets and thousands upon thousands of them live in favelas (shanty towns). The Salvation Army here is doing a valiant work through education and child care to help improve the circumstances of these children. However, there is so much more that needs to be done and there are very few other organisations doing it.
So, when I meet a person who is homeless in Sao Miguel my first problem is that my portuguese is not good enough to have a conversation with them and my second problem is that I have nothing to offer them in terms of a solution. Having said that I cannot do nothing so I have been trying to reach out to the person under the blanket (see earlier blog) who seems to live on the streets around my own apartment block. My first attempt was useless. It was a hot, sunny day and I thought I would give her a drink. As I came closer I could see that the person is, in fact, a woman who may not be as old as she looks. I spoke what I hoped were words of kindness in portuguese and put a carton of juice into her hand. Her eyes were crusted over and when I saw that she couldn't see I tried to open the carton for her but this startled her and she ran away. I began to walk after her but as she settled down near a crowded bus stop I decided that I would not like to create a scene so I walked on. There have been two more occasions when I have been able to simply place a carton of juice or a bag of fruit in her hand saying, 'Hello, this is for you', and walked away. I hope that she will grow to recognise my voice and maybe one day we will be able to offer her more help.
We have a few people who come once a month to pick up a food parcel from the church building. They just want to take the food and go. We suspect they sell it, certainly J is using it to buy drugs, but if I can maintain this monthly contact with them maybe one day we will be able to offer them more help. At the very least we pray for them by name and I believe all prayer is powerful and effective.
For the past two weeks we have had some meals left over from Alpha and so P. along with Cadet G. has taken a bag of about 10 meals out onto the streets on a Sunday afternoon. It hasn't been difficult for them to find people who are hungry and living on the streets.
We have also started a Sunday Breakfast Club for children who come to Sunday School. A couple of months ago the Sunday School leaders told me that some of the new children were complaining of being hungry half way through Sunday School and they discovered that they had not yet eaten anything that day. So, they now provide bread and hot chocolate at 10am on a Sunday. Interestingly, the Sunday School has increased in number since we began doing this!!
So this is it so far. Compared to the organised and professional work that The Salvation Army is doing in the UK it is not really very much. However, we need to start somewhere and we are praying that God will guide us into a clear understanding of how we are to focus our mission in this area.
In the UK The Salvation Army has Lifehouse Centres which provide professional help and support for people who, through different life circumstances, find themselves homeless or suffering with an addiction to drugs or alcohol. Whilst working in the UK whenever I met someone with a need in this area it was a fairly easy task to link them up with the nearest Salvation Army Centre. It is different here.
In Brazil The Salvation Army has many social projects but they tend to work mainly with children and adolescents. This is also a great area of need in this country where the population has become accustomed to the fact that hundreds of children live on the streets and thousands upon thousands of them live in favelas (shanty towns). The Salvation Army here is doing a valiant work through education and child care to help improve the circumstances of these children. However, there is so much more that needs to be done and there are very few other organisations doing it.
So, when I meet a person who is homeless in Sao Miguel my first problem is that my portuguese is not good enough to have a conversation with them and my second problem is that I have nothing to offer them in terms of a solution. Having said that I cannot do nothing so I have been trying to reach out to the person under the blanket (see earlier blog) who seems to live on the streets around my own apartment block. My first attempt was useless. It was a hot, sunny day and I thought I would give her a drink. As I came closer I could see that the person is, in fact, a woman who may not be as old as she looks. I spoke what I hoped were words of kindness in portuguese and put a carton of juice into her hand. Her eyes were crusted over and when I saw that she couldn't see I tried to open the carton for her but this startled her and she ran away. I began to walk after her but as she settled down near a crowded bus stop I decided that I would not like to create a scene so I walked on. There have been two more occasions when I have been able to simply place a carton of juice or a bag of fruit in her hand saying, 'Hello, this is for you', and walked away. I hope that she will grow to recognise my voice and maybe one day we will be able to offer her more help.
We have a few people who come once a month to pick up a food parcel from the church building. They just want to take the food and go. We suspect they sell it, certainly J is using it to buy drugs, but if I can maintain this monthly contact with them maybe one day we will be able to offer them more help. At the very least we pray for them by name and I believe all prayer is powerful and effective.
For the past two weeks we have had some meals left over from Alpha and so P. along with Cadet G. has taken a bag of about 10 meals out onto the streets on a Sunday afternoon. It hasn't been difficult for them to find people who are hungry and living on the streets.
We have also started a Sunday Breakfast Club for children who come to Sunday School. A couple of months ago the Sunday School leaders told me that some of the new children were complaining of being hungry half way through Sunday School and they discovered that they had not yet eaten anything that day. So, they now provide bread and hot chocolate at 10am on a Sunday. Interestingly, the Sunday School has increased in number since we began doing this!!
So this is it so far. Compared to the organised and professional work that The Salvation Army is doing in the UK it is not really very much. However, we need to start somewhere and we are praying that God will guide us into a clear understanding of how we are to focus our mission in this area.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
The Red House
Last Tuesday evening I stood outside a brothel and cried. I don't know why I was crying and when I finished praying as I walked away the emotion left me. It was a red house that is situated in the same road as The Salvation Army hall. I have passed it many times in the last year and I have always thought it was a student house because I often saw young men going in and out of it.
It was my turn to prayer walk the area around the hall. During a holiness meeting when we were praying for our community G. had told me that there are 4 brothels in our area, so I asked her to go with me so that she could point them out to me.
She set off at a great pace and I worked hard to match her steps as we walked up the road from the hall and turned a corner into the road where she lives. G. stopped outside a lime green house which was just two buildings from where she lives and we prayed. This was the first brothel that we prayed for that night and as we prayed I looked at it. I realised that it was different from the other houses and buildings because instead of a high wall and gates it had a low iron fence in front of it and the windows were completely blacked out. As we walked away two women left the house. Just a couple of minutes later we stopped outside another lime green house and prayed. This time there was a man standing guard at the door. I prayed that he wouldn't see that there were two women praying on the other side of the road and he didn't appear to notice us at all. When we had finished praying, we continued walking up to the hospital, and the man went inside the house. We prayed for the hospital and other buildings as we continued on our way. Once we were outside the hospital we had walked a full circle and were once again in the road where the hall is situated. As we approached the red house, G pointed out that a young man had got out of a car that he had parked in front of the house and when we stopped outside the house the man was waiting at the door. As we prayed, another man left the house and walked up the road looking back towards the house as he walked. From where G lives she can see this house and told me that some days she can see up to 40 men walking through it's front door.
We returned to the hall a few minutes after the prayer meeting had ended and there was no time to pray for the 4th brothel.
Our group of prayer walkers is growing and in a few weeks time we will have a meeting to share our experiences. I do not know what kind of work God has planned for us to do here but we will continue to pray on the streets of this area and ask God to open doors of opportunity.
It was my turn to prayer walk the area around the hall. During a holiness meeting when we were praying for our community G. had told me that there are 4 brothels in our area, so I asked her to go with me so that she could point them out to me.
She set off at a great pace and I worked hard to match her steps as we walked up the road from the hall and turned a corner into the road where she lives. G. stopped outside a lime green house which was just two buildings from where she lives and we prayed. This was the first brothel that we prayed for that night and as we prayed I looked at it. I realised that it was different from the other houses and buildings because instead of a high wall and gates it had a low iron fence in front of it and the windows were completely blacked out. As we walked away two women left the house. Just a couple of minutes later we stopped outside another lime green house and prayed. This time there was a man standing guard at the door. I prayed that he wouldn't see that there were two women praying on the other side of the road and he didn't appear to notice us at all. When we had finished praying, we continued walking up to the hospital, and the man went inside the house. We prayed for the hospital and other buildings as we continued on our way. Once we were outside the hospital we had walked a full circle and were once again in the road where the hall is situated. As we approached the red house, G pointed out that a young man had got out of a car that he had parked in front of the house and when we stopped outside the house the man was waiting at the door. As we prayed, another man left the house and walked up the road looking back towards the house as he walked. From where G lives she can see this house and told me that some days she can see up to 40 men walking through it's front door.
We returned to the hall a few minutes after the prayer meeting had ended and there was no time to pray for the 4th brothel.
Our group of prayer walkers is growing and in a few weeks time we will have a meeting to share our experiences. I do not know what kind of work God has planned for us to do here but we will continue to pray on the streets of this area and ask God to open doors of opportunity.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Metro Rage!
I have never experienced road rage, either from me or directed towards me, or any other kind of 'rage' that we use to describe losing our temper with a complete stranger. Until now that is - now I have experienced metro rage.
The city of Sao Paulo has a wonderful metro system with lines going in all directions around the city. I can board a train in Sao Miguel Paulista and change from the train line onto the metro line at Bras or Tatuape and then travel to any part of the city by metro. Many lines converge at the stations of Se and Bras so there are certain times in the day when these stations are extremely busy. I have to travel on the metro twice a week in order to attend my portuguese language class.
Last week I was travelling home from my class a little later than usual as I had stayed to have a chat in the student cafe with two members of the class. So, when I got on the tube it was already crowded which meant that I couldn't walk further down into the carriage - I had to stay standing near the doors. When we stopped at Se the doors opened and, ignoring the fact that the carriage was already full, a great crowd of people surged onto the train in one mad push. Unfortunately, as they pushed me forwards, my rucksack, which was hanging over my right shoulder, got caught between two people who were getting off the train through the doors on the other side of the carriage. I felt like I was going to be carried off the train so I let out a little yelp, grabbed hold of a pole and tried to pull my rucksack back towards me. I think the people must have realised what was happening because I was able to retrieve my rucksack. However, at the same time as this was happening, the crowd behind me were continuing to push and I found myself pinned with my face against the pole that I had grabbed hold of. My back began to hurt and so I shrieked! I managed to turn myself around and face the people who were pushing me. 'Calma! Calma! I shouted and came face to face with three quite small looking women. One of the ladies immediately started justifying herself in portuguese. I gathered that she was blaming the people behind her for pushing her onto the train. I wasn't terribly understanding of her situation.
This is not an unusual occurance during the rush hour in Sao Paulo. I prefer to change trains at Tatuape where the people are a little more gracious and sensible. Last Monday I let 6 trains go by without getting on because they were just too full. However, I took a photo of three men who pushed and squeezed their way onto one train and watched as the third man's leg finally disappeared into the train as the doors closed (see photo on sidebar).
Bras is at the end of the line so when the train arrives it is always empty. For those who are determined to get a seat, they push anyone who gets in their way and throw themselves at a seat almost throwing a triumphant arm in the air. I have seen frail old men and ladies discover new strength as they charge towards the seats using elbows and sticks to make sure they get a seat on the train. I have never seen anything like it before!!
Well, this posting is probably more therapy than blog. Thank you for listening - it's been a great help to me to share with you my first experience of metro rage.
The city of Sao Paulo has a wonderful metro system with lines going in all directions around the city. I can board a train in Sao Miguel Paulista and change from the train line onto the metro line at Bras or Tatuape and then travel to any part of the city by metro. Many lines converge at the stations of Se and Bras so there are certain times in the day when these stations are extremely busy. I have to travel on the metro twice a week in order to attend my portuguese language class.
Last week I was travelling home from my class a little later than usual as I had stayed to have a chat in the student cafe with two members of the class. So, when I got on the tube it was already crowded which meant that I couldn't walk further down into the carriage - I had to stay standing near the doors. When we stopped at Se the doors opened and, ignoring the fact that the carriage was already full, a great crowd of people surged onto the train in one mad push. Unfortunately, as they pushed me forwards, my rucksack, which was hanging over my right shoulder, got caught between two people who were getting off the train through the doors on the other side of the carriage. I felt like I was going to be carried off the train so I let out a little yelp, grabbed hold of a pole and tried to pull my rucksack back towards me. I think the people must have realised what was happening because I was able to retrieve my rucksack. However, at the same time as this was happening, the crowd behind me were continuing to push and I found myself pinned with my face against the pole that I had grabbed hold of. My back began to hurt and so I shrieked! I managed to turn myself around and face the people who were pushing me. 'Calma! Calma! I shouted and came face to face with three quite small looking women. One of the ladies immediately started justifying herself in portuguese. I gathered that she was blaming the people behind her for pushing her onto the train. I wasn't terribly understanding of her situation.
This is not an unusual occurance during the rush hour in Sao Paulo. I prefer to change trains at Tatuape where the people are a little more gracious and sensible. Last Monday I let 6 trains go by without getting on because they were just too full. However, I took a photo of three men who pushed and squeezed their way onto one train and watched as the third man's leg finally disappeared into the train as the doors closed (see photo on sidebar).
Bras is at the end of the line so when the train arrives it is always empty. For those who are determined to get a seat, they push anyone who gets in their way and throw themselves at a seat almost throwing a triumphant arm in the air. I have seen frail old men and ladies discover new strength as they charge towards the seats using elbows and sticks to make sure they get a seat on the train. I have never seen anything like it before!!
Well, this posting is probably more therapy than blog. Thank you for listening - it's been a great help to me to share with you my first experience of metro rage.
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