New Blog: September 16, 2012: First night on the streets

"Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, 'Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.' I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent." -Luke 15:4-7

As I was reading God's word outside on my front porch this morning, God showed me just what I needed to hear. I have been wondering what I'm doing here lately and what God wants me to do and see in Brazil. A couple of nights ago, I went out to the streets for the first time to talk to prostitutes and transvestites. I have to admit, I was pretty nervous and terrified because I had no idea what to expect or what I was going to see. I tried to talk to one of the girls about what was going to happen in the car but she only speaks Portuguese so I didn't get to much out of her about what to expect. That night, Nic had bought many roses to give to each girl or transvestite we came in contact with. We were supposed to ask them what they thought of the rose and to describe it to us. After they told us what they thought about the rose, we would tell them that they were just as beautiful and special as the rose. We would let them know that there was a God that thought of them as beautiful and that wanted to have an intimate relationship with them. While we were driving down the road we would be on, I saw many people that appeared to be girls standing on the street corners everywhere. You could literally feel the spiritual oppression all around. When a couple of white guys, a white girl, and two Brazilian girls started walking down the street with all kinds of roses in our hands, I could only imagine what we looked like to onlookers.

Immediately, I felt like I didn't know what I was doing. What could I, a normal American guy that just graduated college, do to help these people that were in situations I'd only seen in movies. If anyone could relate to these people, it wasn't me, I thought. I know now that these thoughts were from the enemy and it wasn't God speaking to me because I quickly realized that God was with us and His Spirit was guiding us. He was protecting us and he was literally watching us making sure that His glory would be spread and His love would be shared to these people that so desperately needed it. We walked up to the first person and I quickly realized that it was not a girl. I can't really describe what he looked like in full, but he had long hair like a girl, women's clothes with high heels on, and make up, but there was no mistaking that he was a man. I didn't talk to him but found out that he had been on the streets for 11 years and he was only 25 years old. He was really friendly and talked to us for a long time. I was surprised to see how open he appeared to be and how much he was willing to share to these strangers.

On the next corner, we saw a group of about 5 or 6 transvestites talking together and laughing, smoking, and smiling at cars that drove by slowly. You could see the deadness in their eyes but they were good at hiding it. They would joke around with us and some of them were really friendly and talked to us for a long time. You could quickly see that they were great actors, they had to be to do the kind of work they did without feeling. As we handed them their roses, they looked surprised and suspicious at first, but all of them would smell them and hold them up to their noses for long periods of time. I don't think most of them had had someone give them a flower, or any gift for that matter, in a while. Some put them in their hair or on their clothes to make them feel prettier. The Brazilian girls with us would ask them to describe the flowers and a lot of them said it was pretty, smelled nice, or was new. Then, they would tell them how special and loved they were by their Heavenly Father and that there was somebody that wanted them to come as they were, scars and all. Most of them would quickly open up to us and talk openly about God and most of them had been Christians in the past or had family that were. One boy that made a very convincing girl, talked for 20 minutes about God and ended up singing an amazing song about God wanting us to come just the way we are. All of them looked relieved to see people actually looking at them with eyes of love and not like a piece of meat or like something you can buy at a store. It was great to see them talking to us and really enjoying the conversation. However, at the same time, they were constantly looking at cars that drove by out of the corner of their eyes because, after all, they were here to work and we were taking up time they could be making money. One of the girls would pray for them when they didn't want to talk anymore and we gave them all hugs as we said goodbye.

We drove to another corner a little later in the night. Like the other street, you could tell that most, if not all of these people, were boys dressed like women. It was a crazy thing to see these prostitutes with little clothes on, and still not be able to tell that they were boys. They wore make-up, dresses, heels, and most had really long hair that made it nearly impossible to tell that they weren't girls. This corner was filled with boys, probably close to 10, all working for the night. Most of them were teenagers and had been on the streets for years. Some still lived at home, some had been kicked out because they were homosexual. Some looked like they slept on that corner because they had their stuff hanging on a tree. Most of them were joking with us and smoking cigarettes and you could tell they liked the attention from us. One girl we saw was sitting alone on the sidewalk smoking a cigarette. Most of them were good at hiding their pain and sadness, but not her. She made no effort to mask what she was feeling and I could see that the years of living on the streets and her way of life had taken its toll. She couldn't have been more than 16 or 17 but physically, she looked about 35. My heart hurt for the girl because I know that I could blame her for her situation and turn the other cheek, but Jesus adores this girl and wants her to come back to Him so that he can heal her heart and fix what's been broken in her short life. Just like Luke 15 says, God and the angels rejoice when one who is lost and broken comes back to the Lord and repents. God will reward the faithful that continue to follow Him their whole lives and He honors when we obey Him, but He REJOICES when one who is sick turns to Him. He wants these people back and desires to see them come to faith in Him. So I must love these people too and rejoice when one of the repents and turns to the Father.

I won't lie and say life here is easy. I miss my family and friends and the comfort I had back home in America. I miss being able to drive a car instead of taking a bus crammed full of people on bumpy roads getting sick every time. I miss having A/C everywhere I go, especially when I sleep at night. I miss not having 20 bug bites on my body when I wake up in the morning. I miss being able to keep bread longer than a day before it molds. I hate that I'm missing my sister's senior year of high school and getting to see her in a beautiful dress when she wins homecoming queen. However, I wouldn't have it any other way. God has given me much to do here and He wants to use me for His kingdom. If I can love that one kid on the street by coloring with him, or hug that one confused boy on the street that is looking for meaning, or play with my kid neighbors whenever they constantly come over to talk to the American, I will. I can do what little I can whenever I can as long as God keeps giving me the strength to keep going. We are all important pieces in the great story of God and we all have a part, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant.

"In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple." -Luke 14:33