Cidade de Deus

Shadows hide the nakedness of this little one. Playing with a fan just outside the security of his scrap-metal home, a half naked boy was eager to see the new faces passing by. Apparently he seldom dons clothes, indoors or out, and just as rarely joins the games played at the new church a few steps away. The church building is not spotless or exquisite in any way, but rather is marked with bullet holes and puddles of water. Be that as it may, its lack of roof and stained glass does little to keep out the 2o persons who have decided that gathering there to worship together is valuable. I did not catch this little boy's name, nor whether he is naked by choice or circumstance. But I pray that the redemption already brought to those who gather regularly, just a few steps away, will soon affect his life.

Battered pews and wet floors are not what I envisioned when told of the recent church God has birthed in the City of God favela. Our church in Columbia is going to be donating funds to help finish the building described here: http://tinyurl.com/brazilianwall Once an execution room used by drug lords; now it has been redeemed and houses a beautiful portion of God's church.

Not trained to say cheese or smile when a camera is produced, this little guy looks curiously at me and my camera. Most likely having never seen his own photo, he was amused by the picture on the rear of the camera. "Another, take another" was my interpretation of the words that followed. Having been seen eating food found on the mired paths that interlace the favela, it is comforting to see him eating chips from a bag. This is most likely not a treat, but nourishment, based on the rate at which he is eating, but he seems content with what I consider little. And amused by what I take for granted...a simple image of himself.

Long eyelashes, a sign of malnutrition. Huge smile and telling eyes of the joy within this boy. I can tell that there is something different about this boy. He clings to us like glue as we walk through the community, not asking for anything but attention and love.

He displays an unexpected joy welling from deep within. I am told that he hasn't missed a single happening at the church building since people started gathering there a few weeks ago.

We had such a fun time together and I was sad to leave him behind at the end of the day. So was he. A sadness fell over him as we had to pile into the van and say, "tchau tchau."

Our friend was reassured by Christy (a Texan living on mission in Brazil) that she would be back in a few days. It does my heart good to see that there are people committed to serving this community.

There is such a warmth to people we met in Brazil. Amidst poverty and desolation, this warmth was not absent from an older man we met.

The lines on his face, visible reminders of the years he has experienced. Wisdom eager to be passed on, but shielded by a language barrier. He is however able to portray his happiness that we are there. He knew those leading us through his city and trusted us as friends because of the work done before us. That bridge allowed us to pray and meet with many people. I am so confident in the work that came before, and continues after we left.

I cannot express the degree to which prayer is needed for this community and the workers for the gospel there. The building above is a house of witchcraft located no more than 30 yards from the church mentioned previously. God shines forth brightly, and the darkness will not overcome him, but the truth of its presence is still sobering.

An infant is held by a proud father outside the door of his home. This my friends is a rarity. Men in this community are scarce. Men with jobs, who love their wife, and who are also present in the lives of their children is almost never seen. This man is an exception. He is also a member of the church body that I have been talking about.

His older son takes in the picture of 12 strangers crammed into his house praying for his mother. This father mentioned earlier invited us in to pray for his wife who had spent many weeks in the hospital after giving birth to the swaddled little one shown earlier. I was brought to tears by the faithfulness of a family who has seen much pain, but knows the peace of God and has learned to rely on him for everything. I am humbled beyond expression and am crying in the library as I type.

This little guy has too many sandals. Just kidding. He's friends with the smiling boy pictured earlier and they exchanged handshakes just moments before taking this photo. I am hopeful for these two boys and pray for their futures.

Luke Freeman and his new friends.

After several attempts a successful bubble makes for a proud little girl.

Knowing nothing of the World Cup, this boy still knows the joy of playing with a ball. Who knows, maybe I'll see him on television someday soon, heading a ball in for a goal.

Contrast is a prevalent theme in the City of God. Clothes and trash litter the muddy streets and desolation abounds, but vibrant beauty springs forth from the faces and stories of its inhabitants. God is present and one could not ask for more. I need my hard heart to be pierced by this truth. He will never say, "tchau tchau."

I am continuing to process through the memories that I have from Brazil, but look forward to telling anyone who will listen about the goodness of God. Come taste and see that the Lord is good.