Some nights I have a hard time sleeping. Tonight is one of those nights. The reason is nearly always the same. I stay awake at night reliving the past. More specifically I re-experience my time in Portugal (if you didn’t know, I lived there for 1.5 years as a missionary student). I re-experience and my mind is loaded with regrets. I remember the first moment Jonathan, the girls, and I arrived there, when I first met Paul and Rosana, Filipe, Rolo (yes, Lisas Rolo), and all the other Americans. I remember that from the airport we then went to a beach side cafe and ate something. Ricardo was there. Somebody else was there, though I can’t place who they were. While I was in Portugal I was able to watch Ricardo’s fire for Jesus fade and eventually burn out.
I remember staying up till 6am playing computer games with Silvio and Elio. We had a rotation you know. While it was one persons turn on the computer game (Championship Manager of course) the other three would play ISS on the Play Station 2 (ISS was the best futebol game around and it was quite addicting. Fifa eat your heart out). We would do this all night. Jonathan and I would speak half English and half Portuguese on purpose and it always made Silvio giggle like a little girl. He’d giggle and say “you guys. You guys are funny” He would then begin to explain why what we said was funny. Luckily for Elio and us, we were usually able to stop him not too far into it. We would eat home made french fries with ranch sent over by our parents. Ranch never tasted so good. I remember that we saved up change for months to buy that ps2. We would collect it at every small group throughout the week. I think we even got some of the 8 year old gypsies to donate some spare change to the fund (though they later made up for their small gifts by stealing from us).
Nikko (pronounced nee-koo) was my man. Don’t be alarmed, but I called him nigga nikko and he called my his nigga. It was the normal thing to do, it was ok. Never, though, would you catch me calling him preto, that my friends was a no no. We were close, but you just don’t call someone you love a bad name like that. Nikko was 14 and he spoke a little english. Mostly it was words like “golden grahams” and “I love you”. He said those words alot. For some reason he liked Acapella music. Beats me. He would sing “You know that I’m gonna feast on Golden Grahams and Yoggi. Oh I’m gonna feast…” Yoggi was this cheap yogurt drink thing. Anyway. We loved him like a son and a brother. He was crazy. He would pee in metro stations next to the Multibanco (ATM) machines.
I remember the youth camp from hell. It was the beginning of our first summer and it was our first Portugal camp experience (Only Kristin and I were able to ever go again). I don’t remember much about that week except for the intense anger and frustration at how much I did not want to be there. The next year was amazingly different. I’m sad that Jonathan was not there for it.
I remember what it was like when the pilot light would go out while you were in the shower. I’ll never forget the pao de leite or the pasteis de Belem that I loved, nothing here will ever compare. I remember what it was like to dribble somebody for the first time. Or how good it feels to send a header into the goal.
Did you know that KFC tastes better in Portugal? Actually, to be quite honest it tastes better in Portugal, Greece, and Germany. I’m sure of it. No, it’s not some kind of culture shock experience. In Colombo (one of the largest malls in Europe that happened to be located one short bus ride from my home in the ghetto) we had Burger King, Pizza Hut, and McDonalds and I know that their food was all the same. But KFC was beautiful. “Queria menu dois faz favor”. It was a breast, a leg, and some fries from heaven. And we ate it maybe three times a week…for a year.
I’ve got story after story of crazy homeless people who came for dinner at our church on Thursday nights. Ze Carlos, who was baptized into Jesus. Alfonso the poet. That one crazy girl who spoke no language but a mixture of 6. Joao Silva, who lived in the church building and rolled his own cigarettes.
Luis was obsessed with video games. I am unsure if there is ever hope for him until he is saved from his addictions. Mario was a computer nerd too, but he did love people more than his machine. I hope that he remembers to love Jesus first. David lives in America now and was never as good at futebol as he thought. Constantino is still making music…just remember that I taught him his english. Alexandre had big eyebrows. Xando was crazy. Joao Andre was a small little man who I love dearly……..
I wish you all new these people. I wish I could see them for just another moment. I wish I could stop thinking about them and get some sleep.
I did my job you know. I worked hard for Jesus, met with guys, built relationship, studied the Bible, all that good stuff. I feel good about what I was able to accomplish. But for some reason my heart is never at rest. At night I regret what I did. I wish I had done more. I wish I had spoken better Portuguese. I wish I had been more bold. Why didn’t I immerse myself in the culture more? How could I have made a bigger difference? Why have so many fallen away in just a few short years? Will the church there last? Will I ever see Elio or Silvio or Mara or Ivnna again? Why can’t I sleep? Why do their memories torment me? Am I missing something?
All I know is that when I have these nights, I feel called to pray. I feel called to pray for my friends who are nine hours ahead of me. For them it is morning now. They are living their day and maybe, just maybe, they need a little extra help from the One I was sent to share with them. Maybe? Maybe.
God, take care of the Igreja Do Cristo. My heart is with them tonight and my humble prayer is to ask you to continue fighting on thier behalf. Fighting for thier hearts, for thier church, for their families, and for thier country.
Musings From The Ground Up
Initiating a new grassroots movement in downtown Vancouver
huh. i like you.
i relive my time in germany like that too . . . did i really give all i had? did i invest in the people as much as i should? no.can god bless what i did do anyway? yes.i hope he does.also . . .which of these churches is the correct one (the one you work at)? i need to mapquest directions on how to get there for my sister's wedding:800 NORTH ANDRESEN, VANCOUVER WA 9866116401 NORTHEAST 182ND, VANCOUVER WA 986622602 NORTHWEST 151ST, VANCOUVER WA 9868511105 NORTHWEST LAKESHORE AVENUE, VANCOUVER WA 986853217 NORTHEAST 54TH STREET, VANCOUVER WA 98663 2215 NORTHEAST 104TH STREET, VANCOUVER WA 98686they were all listed as c of c's (can you comment on my blog with the answer today? not that i am too demanding).
ry- i feel like i know most of those people you talked about. between rolo, you, tara, kim, andre, and joao miguel and amy (andre's brother and sister in law) i feel like i lived there almost. did you know agustino? tara probably did. he lives in france now, is married, he calls us once in a while and is the most amazing african guy ever. he speaks very little english, but always uses what he knows to wish me well and say his God bless yous and all. Anyways, he called us yesterday, we werent home, but he left a message. we expected him to call since portugal played angola (he from angola). anyways… i am not really saying anything with that. but what i wanted to say is that i too have nights, and days, that i can't stop thinking about mexico. i can't allow myself to put that time to rest and put my feelins about it where they need to be. it haunts me. and i feel like i should be past it now, its been 6 years already, and i still regret, i still think of what i could have done better, i think of the people i missed out on really getting to know. its hard, you know. it was such an amazing time and i feel like i screwed it all up by just being me, and not being Jesus. I don't have any advice on how to put those feelings away, cause i can't do it either. i will always wonder what my presence there did for anyone, because i feel like as much love i have for Mexico, i will always hate how it haunts me. how wierd that you were there with me for a part of it. anyways, i am dying to go to portugal. i feel like its my destiny since almost everyone else i know has lived there. i know rolo will like this post, you have no idea how much he misses lisbon. and I envy him because he is completely at peace with his time there, though he is not at peace that he didnt' stay longer. anyways, its hard to let the past be in the past when it means so much to you. I think prayer is where we will find the peace and comfort and confidence that God accomplished exactly what was meant to happen at that time. And we continually pray that the work we did is still being accomplished through others who are serving him there. sorry this is so long.
thanks riz!
Yeah I used to do lunch with agustino every week. He actually spoke pretty good english but he probably hasn't spoken it for a long time. Him and Joao Andre were two of our close friends and we missed agustino quite a bit when he moved. Joao andre especially was never the same after he left. It's cool that he's married now.I don't think that Rolo worries about much. Lucky guy.
Then you dont know Rolo. he worries a lot. Just not about Portugal. Wait… are you saying he should be worried about Portugal???Rolo says the same thing about David and soccer, thats funny. I hope he doesnt read this. Did you know they are prego? He is a nice guy. Rolo was in their wedding so i met him then. he calls her parents mom and dad…. a little creepy. (no offese to anyone who calls the inlaws mom and dad, I just don't get it).
precious.hearing all of your memories, reminds me of things that i had forgotten. sometimes i think i have early on set alzhimers…i forget things that i shouldnt and it makes me sad. i was in portugal about 7 years ago and it breaks my heart to think of all the crap i did instead of sharing jesus. i thought i was doing well at the time, but now looking back i see how little i gave. do they even remember me? did i do anything worth of remembering? carina was the first person i baptised, personaly. it was the coolest thing ever…now, i dont think she even goes to church anymore…breaks my heart. she was so on fire. anyway, thanks for reminding me.
It was bad luck. Maybe bad timing is a better way to say it. I got to be in Portugal to watch Carina, Rute, Anna, Ricardo, Mario, Fatima, Maria Joao, Pedro (though I doubt he's ever been genuine about spirituality), and a few others choose to leave Jesus. I heard stories of their passion, of thier first love for Jesus…but I was there to watch them give up. I hope and pray that things have changed for them, that their love for Jesus is renewed and rekindled.Lisa, no, I have no idea if Rolo should be worried. There's nothing he could do about it anyway if he were. I'd rather be at peace then all worked up about it.
What a strange paradox. You do something for the kingdom and you don’t feel happy; in fact you feel tormented. I’m sure I don’t have the definitive answer as to why, but I will offer this: you have stepped outside of yourself. Instead of thinking about you, you are considering them, and them has some hurts. See, living for yourself is safe, because you’ve got it pretty good, plus you can have a direct, immediate affect on what is going on with you. Taking concern for others is dangerous, sometimes what they deal with is not so good and, in the case of people in Portugal, you have no way to affect a direct, immediate change. You ask, “Am I missing something?” I say nope, you got something. If it had been a vacation to Portugal, you’d be sleeping just fine. But since you went and invested in the lives of others you can’t sleep.I was reading this today (Theocapitalism: Converting Consumer Media Capitalists to Christianity) and the part about Theocapitalists doing anything for Jesus as long as it makes them happy, got me thinking about your post. We are challenged everyday to live for ourselves, even in what we do for Jesus. When what we should strive for, is living for others, which indirectly starts us living for Him.I hope you have many more sleepless nights, and I wish the same for the rest of us.
It's amazing how the places we've been to minister to end up ministering to us. I only can pray that I have had as big as an impact on the individuals in China as they have had on me. I think many of the same thoughts about my time in China
I liked that this was a Related Post all the way in the future… 6 years into the future.
Wow… things really were different back here, weren't they.
Who would have or could have known that we would be where we are now… Crazy, crazy life.
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