One Man's Trash; Another Man's Treasure

I'm now living in São Paulo as a missionary. I have no salary, and my job is to help raise a group of children, teaching them love, discipline and hope.

Given this lifestyle, of course, means that I now rely on the good hearts of people that have had the honor of being brought up in a loving family, and have learnt how to love others, too. This has been made very real to me recently after having moved into a new apartment kindly loaned to me by the ABBA organization I volunteer for. My new room was literally a square with a bed and nothing else. No cupboard, no desk, no chair or anything other than a bed...with a mattress on it. I have since acquired something of a cupboard. It keeps my clothes out of sight, at least.

I was speaking to one of the social workers about my dilemma, and he suggested we sit down and pray together. He told me how, when the office for the organization had opened, that very week they had been donated all the office furniture they needed, without even asking anyone for help. It is a new concept to me, that I should pray that God will find people who are throwing away the very things I need and put it in their hearts to donate them to our organization. I am now living on the charity of people. My blanket is the trash of a Cuban family that lived in São Paulo for ten years, and decided to get rid of their linen when they moved back to Cuba. My pillow has a similar story, as does my 'cupboard' and even my bed.

I realized that other people's trash has become my treasure.

While I was browsing the internet I stumbled across a beautiful story about a group of people in Paraguay who live on a landfill. One day, they found a violin case, and it gave them the idea to start making instruments out of the trash in the landfill. They now have an orchestra called the Recycled Orchestra, or the Landfill Harmonica. Their clever little titles make me laugh. Their endeavour to turn worthless trash into personally priceless treasure is truly inspiring. I got really excited about this, and it made me think of my situation in my room... I am definitely considering carpentry.

So what does this have to do with our ministry?

Well it's exactly the same, sad concept. All of it. Our organization has found a group of boys that the world had thrown away and indifferently decided to have nothing to do with, and have set out to put so much value and worth on their lives to show them how incredibly priceless their life is. We are treasuring the world's trash in one of the saddest situations I know. The affects of being thrown away rears it's head time after time, but our endurance to treasure them continues.

I just think back to how many times I stood in a room filled with people, knowing that there was someone there that was just written off by everyone else. Someone different, or weird, that I didn't understand, and how many times I avoided them. I was a part of all the issues being piled up in that persons life that worked to chip away at their self worth. I was a part of making them feel like the trash of the world. I'm slowly learning that every person really is a treasure, even the ones that I can't get anything from!

If we could treasure the trashed, one soul at a time, would love not become a part of everyone's lifestyle?

Keeping Character

I am definitely a child of Hollywood, and it really impacts my life at times. For example, when you watch a crime series on tv, sometimes the most random thing suddenly happens, and you know that that's going to be important in figuring out whodunnit! Then when something random happens to me in real life, I inadvertently build up a degree of apprehension for the unveiling as to it's significance. Which, of course, rarely happens. I had to get an unscheduled Yellow Fever shot while boarding a plane last week, and I walked away from it thinking, "I wonder when the lesson from that experience will show it's face."

Given this kind of Hollywood mind-set, I was always under the impression that my parents were deeply in love at all times, and would always want to go on a first date with each other. I mean, that's how we're taught marriage works on tv. A couple meet each other, they fall in love, and are always and forever infatuated with each other. If they're not, well then they were never meant to be together in the first place.

Right?

I have seen some really broken hearts who have found this to be a lie we've been fed. But, to be fair, it sells some pretty decent movies.

My father had a stroke in 2002, at a relatively young age. This was a major stroke in the left hemisphere of the brain, which is the section that controls, for the most part, your logic (as well as the right side of your body...just FYI). For a man who was running his own business as a structural engineer, and was a genius with numbers, this was, of course, a drastically life changing event. But, my dad's always been a fighter, and he showed huge amounts of strength soon after this happened. He wouldn't show his internal fight with any of us, but we learned later on that he would secretly go to the bottom of the garden and let out a bit of a cry on his own. His life had suddenly been torn apart completely outside of his control or influence.

The next person in line that it affected the most was my mom, of course. The man she'd chosen to marry, this diamond, pearl, prince, one-of-a-kind man literally became someone else overnight.

After a few years I was talking to my mom about the situation, and said to her something along the lines of, "...but you're still in love with dad, right?" Her response completely shocked me. It was probably the wisest and most challenging thing I'd ever heard up to that point in my life. It was definitely not the answer I wanted to hear, and was even initially a little bit disappointed. She was supposed to answer, "Yes, of course! Crazy in love!" You know, like a teenager, or Rose from Titanic ready to abandon her future of prominence for this love.

Not my mom. At this stage, she answered a little shyly, and almost uncertainly, "Is it even about that? Or is it about a promise I made to God all those years ago?"

Wow. It took me a few days of mulling this over in my small mind before I realized the weight of this. She had made a choice that, for better or worse, no matter what she would stay faithful and loving to my dad. She had no idea the situation that it would get her into about 22 years later.

I made a choice. My decision was to answer "yes" to God's call to come to Brazil and work with street kids. I had no idea that this would mean being completely abandoned to myself. No friends, no family, and now, here in Brazil, almost no one to hold a conversation with because I'm the only English speaking person around. On my second day here I almost went into a panic because I could suddenly feel the weight of all that I'd left behind, as well as the drastic isolation and difficult position that I now found myself in. Now, honestly, the thought of turning back never entered my head, but the thought of going on seemed impossible.

That's when I remembered the attitude of my mom. She had now shown me first hand what it meant to stick to your promise made to God, and I fully intend to follow in her footsteps

 

Purpose

Agent Smith: But, as you well know, appearances can be deceiving, which brings me back to the reason why we're here. We're not here because we're free. We're here because we're not free. There is no escaping reason; no denying purpose. Because as we both know, without purpose, we would not exist.

Clone 1: It is purpose that created us.

Clone 2: Purpose that connects us.

Clone 3: Purpose that pulls us.

Clone 4: That guides us


Clone 5: That drives us.


Clone 6: It is purpose that defines us.


Clone 7: Purpose that binds us.


Agent Smith: We are here because of you, Mr Anderson. We're here to take from you what you tried to take from us.

Purpose.

This scene, from the second Matrix movie, Reloaded, recounts Agent Smith giving the incentive he has for his all out assault on the human race. Purpose.

They say that the worst pain that a human can endure is having your femur bone cracked in half. Although, come to think of it, this information came across my path via Brian Regan, a comedian, so maybe we shouldn't take it verbatim, but why would he lie? The second worst pain, according to my torrent of information, is childbirth. However, nobody questions the choice of newly wed couples to begin a family. It's not often that a mother will advise her daughter against conceiving because the pain is too much to handle. Yet, if in almost any other situation in life, when anyone faces that amount of torment, we will all stand around and curse the pain unendingly.

Why?

Purpose.

The amount we believe in an outcome, or agree with a dream, will directly affect the amount of discomfort we are willing to endure. Have you, or someone you know ever been really badly initiated into a team? Like had to endure some pretty hardcore treatment? In the movie Old School, a group of grown men are 'abducted' by their team leader, and put through a series of interesting commitment tests to show their level of passion before they're allowed joining the group. I won't go into details, but if you've seen the movie you'll know what I'm talking about. It's believable as a script, because we know that these men are so desperate to join what is essentially a sorority.

Or, conversely, I'm sure all of us have heard of an old married couple where one passes away, and very soon after the other does, too. It always saddens me to hear of this, because it seems that they have given up on life, and discovered that without a reason to wake up every morning, life just isn't worth the effort.

The whole idea of purpose has often challenged my barometer for passion. Especially in areas that I consciously claim to have passion. Am I willing to endure higher levels of discomfort than other people would for this cause? If not, can I really claim to have found purpose?

I know I have been given a dream in life. A purpose. A reason to give up more than others, and to risk more than seems logical, and soon I will have to face up to the feelings of discomfort that could challenge my commitment and my passion. The loneliness, the isolation, the frailty and the lack of control of my situation will be all new territories that I will step into, but I need to find the resolve now to overcome and endure. My decision has been made, and my path has been laid before me and, right now, I refuse to accept anything less than full passion for this cause. Because I believe in it, and I have a purpose to play in it.

 

Using

"The worst part of being an addict are the lies you tell yourself", I listen to him tell me about his experiences of being a drug addict, and an alcoholic while the meat continues cooking on the braai, and we distract ourselves with a game of table tennis. He tells me how he stole from his family, his friends, and how every time that he 'used', he would then be able to fit in. It was so ironic to me that this guy who seemed to exude confidence was a victim of high school bullying that stripped him of his confidence and made him think that he didn't fit in. He basically took drugs so that he could lose his unique personality and learn to become like everyone else, just so that he could fit in.

The night before I met another old friend who, in a similar way, talks to me about how he became an alcoholic, and his entire life began to revolve around the pivot of himself. He became obsessed with pleasing himself. This kind of self-pursuit seems to be a common factor with people falling prey to their addictions.

We've stopped keeping score in our table tennis, as the conversation has taken a higher rank at the moment. My eyes are watching the ball bounce back and forth between us. I'm focusing on hitting the ball to his strong side, so that he can just knock it back, and we don't have to be distracted with fetching it. My side, his side, my side, his side.

"Every person in my life became someone that I could use. My family, my friends. When I would go to clubs with them, I would look at people and think, how can I use them? How can I manipulate them to get what I want? We were all like that. We all just wanted to get something from the other person, no matter what it cost. You become so suspicious of everyone, everywhere you go."

This kind of lifestyle does seem so distant to me, as he talks, but every time he throws something new out, I do some self reflection.

He's an addict!

Am I really free from addiction? Can I really stand here and pretend that I'm any stronger a person than he is when comparing our tendencies to become addicted to something? No, of course not. It's just easier to hide mine, because it's not drugs, or alcohol. That means nothing when it comes to character.

He's using everybody to get what he wants!

He really is exploiting every person in very obvious ways, from stealing cash from his dad, to taking things from his friends. But are my social activities identified by self-less love? Do I love my friends without expecting from them, or without trying to feed some insecurity of my own? Sure, I'm not using them to get drugs, but I can't claim innocence.

I start looking at what he has done about his shortfalls. He's gone to rehab. He's learnt self-control. He's faced up to his mistakes, and his failures. From confessions, to repayments, he's looked at himself, and accepted that the lies he would tell himself aren't true, and something needs to change. He's learnt to overcome. He's given himself to God. He's so aware that this relationship now is all that his life is about if he is to stay away from becoming someone that would embarrass his family, and friends.

I admire this guy, now. I am so inspired by the struggle he's gone through. I know he has been so much stronger in his life recently than I've been in mine. He wins the table tennis game, hands down.

 

Perseverance

On a day when the dream that you've put your entire life on hold for seems to be falling apart, there is not much that you think could make you smile.

My phone rings, and I look down at the name. It's someone I look up to, and hold in very high respects. Someone I had SMS'd an hour or so ago informing him that my student visa to Brazil had been denied. I clear my throat trying to find a semblance of strength in my voice, but I'm pretty confident that he'll know I'm crumbling. I'm falling apart on the inside.

"Hello?" I sound like I don't know who's on the other end of this call, and I don't even know why I did that. I'm now speaking to the guy that introduced me to the Holy Spirit. The guy that first sat me down when I decided to become a missionary and talked me through all the logistics of this decision. The guy that I spend every year with making plans to serve the youth, and to run mission trips. And here I am pretending I don't know who he is.

"Hey man. You ok?"

Why does he have to ask that question? If I say that I am then I know that I'll be lying to him. If I'm honest, and say no, then I'll probably crack in my voice and sound like I'm in puberty.

"I'll be okay.." It's not a lie, I guess.

After all, I'm sure it's just the shock of now having no way to get into Brazil that is playing with my emotions. Besides, it's only a visa. I'm still doing okay. But it was my way in. It was my plan. My plane ticket still says December 2nd, but now I have no way of passing the border. How am I supposed to stay there to help be a father figure to these street kids when I'm not allowed into the country for more than three months?

The conversation continues as I explain my dire hopelessness. I make it sound much worse than it probably is, but right now, all my mind can think of is the complete collapse of everything I have been building over the last three years. He just listens.

"Look, you've had a really smooth road up to now. Almost too smooth. You've had no reason to have any faith up until now."

He's right, you know. Everything has been going exactly according to plan. Something I've thought of often before, but shoved it into my subconscious. He then reminds me of the many mission trips we've gone on and how the ones that have been filled with the most impact were the ones with the biggest challenges before hand. He poses the question of the significance of doing something for God with no resistance.

"God does sometimes close doors to guide you, but He has been opening doors for this. The Devil also attempts to close doors, but he does it to stop you. It's up to you to bash through those doors. It's time for your faith to persevere."

This conversation suddenly becomes a lot more difficult for me, because I know he's right. Besides, what do I want to tell my kids one day? That in the days where everything seemed to fall apart, I fell apart with it? Or that I was able to stay strong and rely on my faith in God when there seemed to be nothing else to hold on to. I remember the words of my pastor from Sunday morning, "Look for opportunities to exercise your faith." I need to put these words into practice right now. Nobody ever achieved anything great by giving up.

"I have to go now, but we must get together soon just to talk through everything."

I thank him for the chat, hang up the phone, and pull away from everything I was doing. I close my eyes and begin to pray. I begin to worship God, knowing that He is still worthy no matter what happens to me. He is still in control, and He is still my greatest reward.

And because of that, I can persevere.

The Career Adventure

As I wander through a bookstore that I visit often, I find myself in the children's section. It's interesting to see the creative ideas that you find in children's books these days. Almost none of the books are simple text and paper books. All of them are interactive. From colouring in, to adding your own identity to the adventure. From pop-ups, to little sound bytes, all the books approach more than one sense of their intended readers. I continue through to the "adult's" fiction books. All of these are now void of even illustrations. The extent of image creativity is found in the covers, many of which themselves are pretty plain.

Somewhere in between there and here, between then and now, between that time of life and our adulthood, we are supposed to drop our interaction with life and depend on ourselves. This has had me thinking over the last little while, and opened my eyes more and more to the conditioning of our lives we experience through this aging process.

This world is set up to teach all of us to become independent. We are all to build ourselves as a career. A career and life of self. I must go to school, and I must then go to study and slowly build up more experience and knowledge all aimed at one single, essentially unattainable, target. Once we get near there, we are taught that life will be more fulfilling and easier. After this? Well, after this we then wait until we have kids, so that we can encourage them to do the same. But what about that self that I've been building my whole life? Well, I guess that must just wait to die. And those kids will then repeat the cycle. Preserving our class, and pursuing our career.

No interaction with the world, or even our neighbours. No pop-ups, sound bytes, or colouring in. Just text and paper aimed at the one sense, the one objective and the one end result.

I must admit that this was one of the incentives that was behind my ease in leaving my job. I had been aiming my whole life at a career for the sake of me. Not for any other purpose. This led to an ambitious friend of mine to ask me, sincerely, "Gavin, don't you feel like you've wasted...the last 9 years of your life?" (referring to my studies and work experience.) I replied, "Not at all, because life isn't a career. It's an adventure."

If I had one regret, it's that I put so much emphasis on myself, that my career was a career life. If I had realized that there was more to life than just Gavin, then I could've built, from the start, a career adventure. Now I at least have the opportunity to use my experience, exposure and growth to live an interactive life. Where I can work for more than just self. I can, God-willing, be an asset to a global dream of compassion and love.

Because, let's face it. This isn't the Truman Show. Life is about more than me. It's about God, and He is all about interaction. That's why He gave us five (5) senses!

Dream of Dreams

The author Leonard Sweet posed a very interesting perspective when he asked, "Have you ever had a dream in which you sat and read for an extended period of time?". He expands on this idea in his book, The Gospel According to Starbucks, but his point is that dreams are visual. They are dynamic images and they are vibrant. They don't consist of black and white text, just like the text you're reading now, they come from the deeper desires of our souls and involve our imaginations with actions we couldn't perceive doing in reality, most times.

Over the past weekend, I was with a family that moved to South Africa from Argentina. On Saturday afternoon we visited the Argentinian Association and were visited by a family that is literally travelling the world in a 1928 Graham-Paige car. Herman and Candelaria Zapp always had a dream to travel from Argentina to Alaska, however along the way on their first adventure a few things changed, and their dream became somewhat more elaborate. Today, 12 years and 10 months later, (and four kids later, to boot) they are still travelling to countries across the world on an incredilbe adventure. Listening to them talk so passionately about their dream was one of the more inspiring moments I've had in the last couple of months. They spoke about how they had no idea how this was going to work out, and they had no idea exactly where they were going to go next, but all along the way they came across wonderful people who just wanted to help them fulfill their dream. On the back of their book, Spark Your Dream (a rough english translation from their original Spanish version), the Seattle Post-Intelligent comments, "...Forget the monkey meat, the thrashing crocodiles, the wrecked axle, running out of gas, running out of money, going into labor. The hardest part of the journey from Argentina was simply starting it... ...The Zapp's advice for would-be dreamers: 'Begin'..."

My dream is now two months away from beginning and there are so many opportunities to pull out that come across the 

way, not to mention the incentives to follow suit. However, I have put my head down and stubbornly decided that I'm not going to give up the one opportunity that God has given me to follow His calling to Brazil. I won't get an opportunity to "save money" in this life, and use it for whatever God has called me to do in the next life. This is it. This is my vapour in the wind that I choose to use for His will, no matter what the cost. 

I hope that somewhere along your journey of life, in your own car of choice (because, to be honest, that 1928 Graham-Paige didn't look the most comfortable), I hope that you get inspired to drive off the beaten track and go to a place that you'd always wanted to venture into. A place that not many people had the courage to veer into. A place that you had only before seen in your dreams.

:)

I feel like I often end my posts with a Braveheart-esque finale. I should stop that.

There Is No They

We live in a messed up world. 



Ever heard that before? I know I have. Many times. Growing up, I would see things wrong on tv, and I'd just think to myself, 'it must be a matter of time until they sort that out.' In fact, I can remember this one time I was watching a special on crime in South Africa, and they were doing a dramatization of a woman being attacked in her house. I remember thinking to myself (as a kid, please remember), 'What is this guy doing? This camera man? Why doesn't he stop filming, and go help that lady out??' Years later (Many years, I promise), and I now find myself aware of the fact that there are many people behind the camera's that are made aware of many situations that they could have an influence on, and very little is getting done.

Why won't they sort out all the crime in South Africa? Why won't they sort out all the drugs in South America? The oppression in Asia? The hungry, the homeless, the widows, the orphans, the addicts, the angry and all the victims of lives affected by others making bad decisions. Why won't they sort them out??

One of the things I've realized is that it is scary to do something brave. It's very scary. When you don't know the outcome of a choice you've made, you don't really want to make that choice, do you? Because what if you don't like the outcome? It's not fun putting your own life-building pursuits behind you to do something that benefits someone else more than you. In theory, that just doesn't make sense. Besides, surely they ARE going to sort out these situations soon, aren't they?

You know what, though? There is no they. There is no one else that you have any influence over to sort out the situations that your heart cries out for. There's only you. You control yourself. If you're not happy about something in your life, change it. If you're not happy about something in the world, change it. Nothing will get done by simply complaining about it or liking a facebook group. The only question is, what cost are you willing pay to see that issue in your life or the world corrected?

Today is my first day without a job. I have just resigned and am preparing myself to move to Sao Paulo, Brazil in an attempt to give a bunch of street kids a second chance at life, because I saw a documentary on tv that showed how horrible a life they have to live. Even with all these horrible possibilities and negatives that keep creeping into my mind, threatening to deter me from going forward with this pursuit of justice, I just have to remind myself that there is no they. I alone can control myself, and that's enough to make something of a difference in this world. It might seem to be unfair that I have to give up so much to do this all, but I believe it is so much more unfair to see the hopelessness that some people have to live in. I am the 'they' that I've always been waiting for. With Christ as my engine, my encourager and the drive in my veins, I will do all I can to be the difference that I have always just been waiting for.

The Scorpion

A conservationist was out in the jungle with her team, tracking the path of an endangered specie of scorpion. She managed to find a beautiful specimen just before it crawled it's way hurriedly into a passing river and consequently began to drown right before the nature team. Instinctively she jumped into the river and reached out to grab the creature before it drowned, but the scorpion stung her. Undeterred, though hurt, she reached in again only to be met by the stinging tail of the critter.

This battle continued for a while, before one in her team asked, "Must you persist? You're being attacked mercilessly!" She continued reaching in for the scorpion, and continued being stung. He cried out again, "Please stop! This animal clearly doesn't deserve to be rescued!"

She replied, difficultly through her fighting, "He does only what he knows to do! He knows no better. I must do what I know to be best for him despite his resistance!"

 

How often do we play the scorpion and resist the love of friends or family or mentors or someone around us that cares? How often do we resist God when all He is trying to do is try bring about the best for us, after all He does know better. But then, how often do we walk away from people in need because they react in a way that is only indicative of all that they know? We allow them to drown in a pool of their trouble because we don't want to get into a difficult situation with them.

 

I was told this story by a man who runs the rescue house for street kids in Sao Paulo, and he related it to these poor children who grow up with no discipline or concept of love. He warned me that they will hurt the very people trying to help them, but only because it's all they know. We need to remember our role, and stubbornly insist on carrying them to a brighter future of hope.

Indescribable Value of the Children of God

This is the most difficult post I've had to write so far. I'm sure it won't be the last difficult blog post that I put up, but it is hard to put down in words. Chris Tomlin wrote an incredible worship song called Indescribable as a paradoxical description of God. He sings about the power of God and how this God is past amazing to an area that you couldn't even describe. It's a nice song that goes on to describe some of the things our God has done, however it's a song that you can't really sing in honesty until you get to the end of your knowledge of God.

 

On Friday night I was at the youth group at my church and the worship was incredible! I don't know if it's because I've stopped being in charge of the running of the night, so I focused only on God and not on how the night was going. All I know is that I felt the love of God in a way that surpassed emotion, logic and even circumstance. I found myself on my knees on the floor crying like an undeserving pearl. There was another leader that felt that same love of God enter the room that night, and afterwards when we tried to explain it to each other we were at a complete loss for words, all we knew is that we wanted to get back to that presence of God where nothing else on earth mattered. Where I felt complete, loved, clean, valued and strong. It was an experience that I know will stick with me for years to come. When I consider it, I know that this is worth any amount of sacrifice. This doesn't mean that I've overcome all my shortfalls, and I'm now invincible. Far from it, but it definitely was a state of spirit that I want to pursue with more and more of my life, even if I never get there again until my death.

Matthew 13:45-46 is where the kingdom of heaven is compared to a merchant seeking beautiful pearls and he finds one of great price and sells everything that he has to buy it. I felt like that pearl on Friday night. Today is Monday morning, where I could feel far from that feeling, however God reminded me of my value with that story. I now will not only choose to live as a pearl of great price for Christ, but striving to share this truth with people around me in a world full of people who seem to feel like they aren't even worth a "Good morning" from those that they see as more important than them at work, in their social circles or at school even. It must be a sad feeling for God to give so much value to someone, so much that He paid whatever He could to show them He loves them, and then seeing them reject His price tag on their life, and ascribe their own worthless evaluation.

From the child on the street, to the Queen, herself, God wants to love us with an intensity that is quite literally indescribable.

I Can Imagine

Ok, firstly I strongly suggest you read the picture I put here. It's from the book mentioned below.

When I was little, I used to really enjoy drawing. I would even take pictures from disney cartoons in magazines and draw them with chalk on a board for weeks at a time. It was my own world and my imagination having a field day in it's own form of art. I would get into my own little creations. Do you remember when you were little, and you used to draw pictures? You wouldn't just draw the pictures, though. You would be talking to them, and interacting with them, making them come alive in your imagination as you drew.

As I grew older, people started telling me what good art was, and what bad art was. Unfortunately my pictures never ever ever ever made the good art category (not sure I have enough 'evers' memorized there). I even tried taking the subject in grade 8 and grade 9. I remember spending hours on a drawing of an elephant using 'stippling', and the teacher gave me 60%, and then I spent ten minutes drawing an orange, and got the exact same grade. My imagination was killed. It had been weighed through comparisons with others, and fallen short. I don't think I've drawn anything other than doodles since grade 9. This was something I really enjoyed doing, something that gave my imagination an outlet that I enjoyed, but because I was told it wasn't something that other people enjoyed, I gave it up. What other aspects of my imagination have been killed like this??!

Reading a fascinating (and CRAZY) book* lately has taught me something really interesting. Imagination is so important! It's something everyone does when they're little, but stops doing at some stage in life. I remember when I used to believe that my stuffed animal toys were alive, and I could even hear them breathing. Then I was taught that the animal was made out of cotton and nylon. It was no longer able to breathe. Slowly, but surely, our imaginations are laid down in the trunk with all our old toys, and all we're left with is logic and cynicism**.

I believe being a child of God requires a lot of imagination. It's something He created, and something He longs to use. I'm not just talking about being in the creative stream of ministry, I'm talking about serving God. Right now I can imagine the streets of Sao Paulo where the kids have stopped running away from their parents to form gangs and sell drugs. I can imagine the country of Brazil being a place where the poverty isn't horded by the rich. I can imagine being a role model and even an inovator of many programs to bring love to the street kids of Sao Paulo. But what would I have been able to imagine if my mind hadn't been streamlined into our "grown up" way of life?

I can imagine a group of people loving God and pursuing Him with the imagination that He equipped them with. I can imagine Him backing up their imaginitive ideas with practical applications, and I can imagine a world where the love of God becomes tangible to the people of the world through His own Body of believers because they dared to live with a different mindset.

*

** If I were to ask you what state of being was most detrimental to the longevity of humans, most of us would venture a guess at stress or anger. However, I heard a specialist on the radio say that cynicism takes off more years of our lives than anything else. Fascinating. Makes you think we were made to live a life as people who forgive others shortfalls.

Unfinished Ribbon

I remember a few years ago listening to a pastor tell a story about a man who he was walking a journey with. This man wasn't a Christian, but was in a friendship with the pastor. The pastor ended the story there, saying that some stories just don't have that bow tied around them to wrap the present up as finished. That imagery has always stuck with me, I think because I feel like it's the story of my life.

I am an unfinished process. I have many hang ups and short falls, especially when it comes to my walk with Christ. I am not where I think I should be to be doing and attempting to pursue the things that I am doing and attempting to pursue. But I don't believe that this should stop my pursuit of all that God has for me.

This morning I looked at a few of the lives of the disciples, and I really got encouraged by them. It all started with this verse in Matthew 13, where the disciples ask Jesus to explain His parables. Right away I loved that. They were with Him all the time in the flesh, and heard all the things that we've heard from Him and way more. Their minds must have been in there with His, and yet there was so much that they still didn't understand, and so far for them still to travel. Then, of course there was Peter, who denied Jesus three times. Thomas, the famous doubting Thomas, who refused to believe that Jesus had done what He had repeatedly told them He would do until he had seen it himself. Judas flat out betrayed Jesus, even though he had walked with the Man for so many years. Even before all this, there was John the Baptist, who had his doubts in Jesus while he was in prison, too. I was thinking about all of these guys, and their shortfalls and failures and hiccups, and I realized something that really really encouraged me, and I hope it can encourage you, too. They all were walking with Jesus, and they were still far from perfect. But the only person who escaped from Jesus' hands, the only one who slipped out of the protection and forgiveness and purpose of Christ, was the one guy who, himself, gave up. It was never Jesus who walked away from them, or turned them away or refused to go any further with such weak, failure-filled people.

Isaiah 24:16 says, "For a righteous man may fall seven times and rise again."

The verse doesn't call those that don't fall righteous. It says that the righteous are those that rise again. And again. And again. I can do that. I can be righteous. I am most definitely a work in progress, but by the Word of God, I will not give up, or count myself out or declare a state of unrighteousness. I will rise again, and I will chase after the dream God has put in my heart, and I will pursue righteousness as a righteous man.

Because I want Jesus to present me to God one day as a perfect gift with a finished ribbon.

Their Life

Below is a video, taken from a documentary that was shown in Brazil about street children. I'm told that ABBA, the place I'm going to volunteer at, have worked with many of the kids in this video.


I just want to share with you the situation that I can't turn my back on and hope that it works out on it's own.

Those 10 000 Reasons

One of the more powerful stories I've come across recently was from a sermon I listened to by Jackie Pullinger, called God Uses Foolish Things. She has a really good point in there that I want to share with you. She was working in a drug rehab, and introducing people to Jesus. She wouldn't preach to them, or read the bible to them, she would just introduce them to Him, and pray for them, and wait for the Holy Spirit to talk to them. In response to hearing Him, these drug addicts would then give their lives to Jesus.

They would stay at the rehab house with her to help get off drugs, and they would then go through the bible. But she wouldn't teach the bible to them, she would discuss the stories in the gospels, and get them to discuss it with each other. Around three days after introducing them to Jesus, she would get to the parable of the man who finds a treasure in the field, sells all he has and buys the field (Matthew 13:44). Then they would discuss this parable. So, she would ask them, "Do you think you understand this story?", they'd say yes. "So then, tell me, who is the man in the parable, and what is the treasure?" She says, 100% of the time these men who had had no theological teaching, often no teaching whatsoever, in fact, would respond "Well, Jesus is the man, and I am the treasure." Which she says is theologically correct, unless you think you can buy God. I thought that they would reply the other way around, because that's the way I've been taught it by a pastor. Or a man. They have never been taught it by man, they only have the Holy Spirit to listen to for understanding.

When I heard this, I was quite astonished when I reflected on how I read the bible. I often will be reading a passage with a particular sermon in mind, and not be clearing my mind and waiting for Christ to reveal to me His heart behind the words. I just thought how I need to start reading the bible over in a completely new way. With God. It was Him that wrote it, He is the Word, and He is living in me. Surely something should be able to penetrate the intellect and alter the spirit?

When I depend on man, I fear that I will run out of power, or inspiration for falling in love with God, because man is so finite. If I forget all earthly wisdom, and depend entirely on God, I truly believe I could, daily, get those "10 000 reasons" to fall in love with Him all over gain.

Rising Above

A couple years ago I went hiking with a bunch of friends up near God's Window. It was a four day hike, but we decided to take five days to do it. We stopped over the one day and just spent the day relaxing and swimming, and digging holes for our toilet breaks.

There was a 12m high rock jump that every one of the 30 people with us on the hike seemed keen to do. Everyone. The younger people, the older people. Which meant that I would have to do it, too. Standing on the top I just made my decision. "I'm going to do this. I'm going to jump no matter what. I'm going to step to the edge, and I'm going to be so scared, and my mind is going to tell me that this is a bad idea and I shouldn't do it, but I'm going to. I'm going to rise above those voices, ignore them and jump into that water that is apparently SEVEN THOUSAND METERS AWAY!!! So what's the point in waiting up at the top and mustering up the courage? I'm jumping whether I wait or not." So I did. I stepped to the edge when my turn came, and without a second thought I leapt off the rock and jumped into the water with all the others who had already done it.

Afterwards a few people came up to me and said, "Wow, Gav. You're brave, hey? No fear of heights for you. You just jumped like it was easy!" But they didn't know that the truth is, I'm petrified of heights. I don't know why, but my body just locks up when I let my mind perceive greater heights that I'm at.

I hope I don't sound like a stuck record, but I was talking to a friend recently about my moving to Brazil and leaving my job and working as a missionary and I realized that this is almost exactly what it feels like. I know that this is the right move for my life. I can't sit by any longer, hoping that someone else will do something brave for God to show His love for His people, and to be His hands and feet. So I know that this is definitely what I want to do. But that doesn't mean it's not scary, right? That doesn't mean that I'm fearlessly stepping into the great unknown without second thoughts. Everyday is a battle to force myself to confront my fears, but you know what? I've made my mind up and no matter how difficult it is, I'm going to rise above my thoughts and fears, and I'm going to take this step! I'm not going to do it half hearted, either. I'm going to put everything I can into it, and invest all my effort to making this work. My hope is that there will be enough people who believe in me, or this calling to support me and make it a long term endeavour.

:)

Thanks for reading this.

Construction in Progress

For the last two years, I've been working on a shopping center at work. Every day that I've been at work has been a struggle to get calculations accurate, designs completed and drawings issued to site, so that this shopping center can be built as planned. The architect has changed his mind a lot of the time, and the contractor has needed our help a lot of the time, too. It's all come down to this week. On Thursday, April 26th, our 22 000 square meter shopping mall opens up to the public, and it's going to be amazing!

It's very rewarding to see the product of something that you've been working on for so long, because there are many, many...many frustrations along the way. Just working with your head down, not yet being able to see what all your efforts are accomplishing. But that's where the secret is. Before it all started, there was a dream. A plan. A vision that some client saw in his mind, and he got all the right people involved to make it happen. When I visit site, now, I can finally see in concrete what he saw in his mind, and it's marvelous.

I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this, but I'm very excited about my own dreams, and my own visions that God has given me in my mind. They have only been planted in my head up until now, but I must continue to work, head down, trying to reach them. Again I refer to those two verses in Philippians 3 where Paul says we must press on! It would be difficult to only work on the processes to reach the dream without taking a step back every so often to remember what that dream is all about, and what it is that we're working so hard to reach. We're heading towards eternity with Christ with the hope of a future greater than our present. So much greater.

Maybe today you're struggling to get through this part of your life. Maybe even just today is a struggle, at work or with family, or friends, and it's putting a strain on your faith in Christ. Situations like these make it so easy to forget why we found that faith in Him in the first place, so I want to encourage you to take a step back and remember Who it is that we're chasing, and why we've surrendered all to Him. In a time when He could have abandoned else because the foreign prospect of being rejected by God, Jesus, Himself, chose to press on to achieve a final product that would reunite all of His creation back to God. That love that He felt for us on that day that kept Him going is the same love that we are pursuing after to be in the presence of soon.

So keep rejoicing, keep praying, and know that even amidst the tough times, we'll get glimpses of our final goal; whether it's a touch from Christ, or a word from God, or a healing, a blessing, a gift, a friend. We know that the end is our goal, not the journey. :)

This week, I got accepted by ABBA to be a full time volunteer there in Sao Paulo. This is the first glimpse of my final product in Brazil. It's a great incentive to reinvigorate my passion! Now for the next goal: University!

Silence

There's a famous story in the book of Joshua, where he leads an army around a city in silence for a week, before they let out a loud shout and God gives them a victory with hardly any other effort from them.

This got me thinking.

An entire week, this group of people heard nothing but nature and the sound of their feet marching around a city. They spoke about nothing. They discussed nothing, and planned nothing. They had no idea what anyone else was thinking or going through or feeling. All they knew was silence.

How stark a contrast is that when you compare it to the way we live? There's hardly a moment of silence in our lives, let alone our week's. Think of your average day, and all the voices you hear. All the opinions you hear. Think of all of people's moods, and troubles, their excitement and their plans that are thrown at you. Ironically, even this blog you're reading right now is a part of all the noise in our world that bombards us incessantly on a continual basis. People want you to see things from their perspective, or to buy their product, or to conform to their world view, or to be on their side when it comes to an aspect of life. All this is done through words, through noise.

It makes me think of silence. When I don't hear from friends, or family, then I miss out on what's going on in their lives. If I don't take the time, for whatever reason, to listen or talk to others then I can't love them adequately, because I have no idea how to actively love them in a relational way. Think about the torture you go through when a loved one gives you the ‘silent treatment’. If we can, we do whatever it takes to break down that silence in order to love them interactively, again. In a very similar way, how can I love God if I don't drown out the rest of the noise of life, and focus on His voice? Instead of hearing what others say about Him, or instead of endlessly speaking things at Him, what about silencing myself to hear His voice? This is what will grow my love for Him.

Finally, my mind falls on the involuntarily silent. Those who are screaming, and are never heard. Those who are crying out for love, but their cries have been so expertly combined with the consistent noise of life that we can no longer make out what their cries are saying. Amongst those cries, I hear the kids on the street of Sao Paulo, and I long to answer at least their call. I want to help in being an answer to the cry of someone whose voice is being harshly ignored.

Face your week with determination and conviction in your life, but don't keep the volume on so loud that you become deaf to the voices that matter. Take some time out to silence all that you can, hear what God has to say, He could have an answer you need to hear.

Or maybe, just maybe, He knows where you could be an answer to a forgotten voice.

The Shadow Proves The Sunshine

There's a song by Switchfoot that I was listening to called The Shadow Proves The Sunshine where Jon Foreman sings about how if you can see a shadow, you know there must be a sun shining. You don't have to look at the sun to believe it's there.

Last night one of the girls that has been in my youth group for years, but had left for a gap year in Jeffrey's Bay, came back to church for a visit and started relating life to a video game with me. It was a fascinating conversation about how, in the game, you have to build yourself up to a level 10 warrior before you begin to fight the level 10 enemies. She was telling me how we should be sharpening our weaponry in order to be more effective warriors for Christ, however, what I walked away from that chat thinking was, if I'm facing what I feel is a level 16 challenge, then that must mean that God thinks of me as a level 16 warrior.

Even if I don't.

So when I'm faced with these challenges that seem so insurmountable and I can't see how I'm going to overcome them, it's because I'm too busy falling back in my walk with God to a level that I've grown out of, instead of advancing forward, taking ground, and becoming the person that He knows I can be.

This morning I read Matthew 12:33-37, where Jesus is telling the Pharisees how a good tree must produce good fruit, and a bad tree must produce bad fruit, because out of the good or bad of your heart comes good or bad things. I am claiming, with my life plans and with my words, that I am representing God. I am representing good. I am speaking good, and attempting to do good. However, if I'm spending all my energy and focus on what I'm doing, or saying, and none of my energy on who I am and what's in my heart, then when idle times come...the hidden me will be exposed, and my true identity revealed.

I may carry the flag of God through my life and my words, but you may too. So let us, together, make sure that what we're doing is not out of duty, but out of an overflow of identity. When we see one of our brothers or sisters facing a level 20 challenge with their faith still at level 15, let us remind them who they are beneath their fears, and stir up their faith to the next level. Let us be Who we represent, and not attempt to represent only who we want to be.

Let our shadows prove the Son is shining.

Family Love

Here we are at another Monday, this one being the last of the month of March. I spent the weekend with my extended family in a lodge in Pretoria for my sister's wedding, and I realized how spoilt I am with the relationships I have in my family. From sisters and brothers, parents and grandparents, to aunts and uncles, cousins and in-laws. All of them are so special and exciting to me. My family; a group of people that travel from Cape Town, Durban, London, Australia, and almost everywhere else you can think of to spend a weekend together celebrating my sister's marriage. It was the kind of weekend where you reach the Sunday afternoon and think to yourself, "Wow that was incredible, I feel like my heart is so filled up with love. What? I have to go to work tomorrow morning? But that seems like it's a whole world away."

All the way through it all and after it all, the conversation kept returning to Sao Paulo. "So when are you going to leave? How long are you planning to be there for? What exactly is it that you're going to do?" My thoughts were held firm on my calling, and being surrounded by a family that was making my heart overflow with love affected the patterns of these thoughts with a deep impact. I would love to stay in this country, surrounded so closely by people who love me, and people who I love so much. I would even love to move to the countries where many of these people now live, and be close to them, and be able to know that I can spend the weekend with family who love me, not because of what I do, but because of who I am.

The inevitable thought, however, keeps on surfacing in the pool of my heart: the precious children on the streets of Sao Paulo will never know this kind of love, joy or fulfillment. That thought saddened and even scared me. I am called to leave my family and friends, and go be a family that these kids will, otherwise, never know, and I get these urges to abandon that calling so that I can enjoy these special times more often. I know these kinds of feelings are natural and healthy, however, when I step back, they feel selfish.

Is it not a rational thought to receive this kind of love, and then be willing to share it? Is it not advancement in this kind of love, and an overflow of a healthy family love that can drive me to plant it where there is none?

My thoughts this week for you are that you may cherish and value every member of your family. That you don't take them for granted, or the love and sacrifices they make for you as something to be expected. My prayers are that, together, we may learn how to grow in this love. Grow into more than just being receivers and takers, but also to be givers and sharers. To pour out the abundance of love we may receive into the hearts of the desperate and empty. This could very well be the answer to the depravity in our communities.

Amen.

Dinner With the King

Something really interesting happened a couple thousand years back, just before Jesus was to be executed. He had a Passover dinner with his twelve disciples in a stranger’s house. This wasn't too out of the ordinary, even though there were a few background stories going on at the table, including this one Man being very aware of the fact that He was about to be tortured and killed. What He did at that dinner, though, was new. Jesus took off His coat, dropped to His knees and began to wash their feet. All twelve of them. One by one, He washed off all the dirt and dust of the earth from their feet. Peter, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Thomas, Matthew, the other James, Lebbaues, Simon and even the feet of Judas. Jesus knelt before each of them and served them. I often feel like I am Judas, and that Jesus is helping me in a way that I don't deserve. Even after all the amazing things He does for me, I still so often find that I get up from the table and betray Him.

I had another dinner this past weekend with some friends of mine, and they introduced me to some missionary friends of theirs who are in South Africa from Brazil. I had an amazing opportunity to ask them a whole bunch of questions about the culture changes, and the language, and the climate of the country that I'm moving to. They asked me what I was going to do there, so I told them that I was going to be a missionary to the street children of Brazil, and in order to do so, I was going to have to study Portuguese so I can have an extended stay there on a student visa. The one lady asked where I was studying, and when I told her Mackenzie University she threw her hands up and grinned, and began to tell me that her dad was the vice president of the university at one stage, and even now, her twin brother still works there in the linguistics department, and she was going to speak to him about me.

I received a lot of advice from the two Brazilian couples, and the one piece I'll never forget is when I was told a sort of timeline of changes that I can expect after the move: The first two weeks will be exciting and adrenaline enthused fun. Then I will start realizing the change has occurred, getting headaches from my mind trying to listen to a different language all day, and dealing with a culture change. Then after two months, and all the excitement has died down, I'll begin comparing South Africa to Brazil, the negatives with the positives, which could make me withdraw to myself from my new home. My friend told me not to worry, that all this is normal. I feel that now I know this beforehand, though, I can combat it more equipped.

I am amazed at the contacts that God is placing in my life, and the way He's making sure I'm looked after, and encouraged.

Even though I have betrayed my God so selfishly, I know that if I sit down before Him, and dine with Him, as He invites me to do in Revelations 3:20, He will forgive me, and accept me back. So here I sit, having dinner with the King, and He's washed my feet all over again. Now I'm left with the choice: how will I get up from the table? Will I get up, like Judas did, and betray Him? Or will I get up like Peter, or like James, or Matthew, John or Andrew, and give my life back to Him? I know what I choose today.

Rapid Waters

On Saturday morning I did some river rafting with my company in Parys. I have never gone river rafting before, and the experience was quite exhilarating. I could feel the overwhelming power of the water rushing at 30 cubic meters a second carrying me down an unpredictable, meandering river whilst I sat, unstrapped, in an inflatable raft, battling the hydraulics with my unparalleled weapon: a 2m pole with a plastic plate on either end. Yet, even though most of the time my 'captain' and I (the 'engine') managed to manoeuvre the raft adequately enough to stay inside of it, there were also times when all we could do was hold on while the water toyed with us and launched us over rocks and rapids, taking us wherever it wanted to.


This week has been an exciting week in God's orchestration of the journey to Sao Paulo. Our role in God's plans for our lives is of course vital, but in essence, the most vital part is to be in the journey of God. It's not my control that's going to eventuate in a successful migration. It's God's hand, and God's power, and God's will that will direct me despite even my best efforts. Week by week, I am trying to do what I can to make this dream happen, but at the end of the day, it's Him who is in control. He placed this call on my life. He is the water propelling my raft. The momentum that is carrying me over the obstacles. And even when I hit turbulent water, my destination has already been determined, whether I can see what is coming up beyond the next bend or not. I have to admit, I saw some people capsize their rafts yesterday, and there are times when it feels as if I've fallen out of the boat and out of any sense of control, but, like I saw yesterday, there was always someone around who would help the fallen boatman out of the water and back in the boat and the whole time they were continuing in the same direction as everyone else.
So what happened this week? Something that gets me very excited. I went to a 21st on Saturday night, not knowing almost anyone except the birthday girl. She placed me at a table with her brother. I knew him through association with my brother. On the other side of me was a guy I had never met, but after striking up a conversation with him and his wife, I somehow got to telling them about Brazil. They were very excited and encouraging and even offered to support me financially every month while I'm there. This is probably the most humbling experience I've had so far, that a couple who have just had a child, and are moving to another country even, are willing to help out a cause that they believe in with me as their entrusted ambassador. (and if you're reading this, thank you so much!)
I went to church, Sunday morning, and was introduced to a small group leader who told me that his small group are looking for missionaries to get behind and pray for and support. He asked if he could find out more about what I'm doing so he could speak to his group. I, again, was overwhelmed that all this is happening outside of my influence, and control, and that God in His plan, is calling people from everywhere to get behind a calling He's placed on me.
I hope the rapids you face, and the rocks approaching your journey don't intimidate you enough to make you jump ship and swim for shore. If we can be the friend that helps others back in their boats, our journey down God's river will be one surrounded by love, company and people who are willing to abandon their comfort zone to take care of us. So let's take up our paddles and let our lives go with His flow.