"Do you live here or don't you?"

Well, a new chapter in our lives has begun. We’re innkeepers now. Only our inn is spread out over about twelve very undulating city blocks. There’s nowhere to park, so forget driving. Maybe we’ll get roller skates or skateboards. Then our neighbors would think us even stranger than they think us now, if that were possible. They do not understand at all what we are doing. Debbie tried explaining to two charming elderly sisters who live across the narrow street from Casas Travessa and Santana and it only frightened them. “So, do you live here or don’t you?” one asked. All they see is us walking around the neighborhood carrying all manner of household items and tools, coming and going from different buildings, picking up garbage and dog poop all over the place. I plan to get housepaint in various colors to match our neighbor’s houses so I can paint over the graffiti our guests must pass when they arrive. We’re wackos! We spent last weekend trundling about. Debbie’s been at this for weeks but it was my first taste of real action. All three places were full. There was a late Saturday checkin and an early Sunday checkout and a late Sunday checkin. Drex went to church with Austin and Vitor while Debbie and I worked. We love Sabbath-keeping, but we call this having our “ox in the ditch.”[1] Please pray we can keep our ox at liberty by scheduling checkins and checkouts on Saturdays.

One evening last week as I prepared dinner, Drex excavated in the back yard. He came across some worms. The discovery triggered a reaction in his brain and he asked if we could go fishing. He had not wanted to fish for almost a year, having lost patience with Portugal’s reticent trout. During this season of estrangement, when the boys at church have clamored for us to take them fishing as we have in the past, Drex has been unmoved. I didn’t want this smoldering reed of enthusiasm extinguished, but it was a school night, time for dinner, bath and bed. I knew the gear was a tangled mess. I asked Drex to give me a few minutes to think about it. During those few minutes, the Holy Spirit reminded me of the sort of childhood I’d like Drex to have; the things I’d like to come into his mind when he is old and looks back. I bundled up the tangled mess and off we went. We were on the Rio Cavado in eleven minutes. We fished about an hour, until dark. Drex, finally forsaking the instructions of his father which had availed him nothing, imitated the Portuguese who dangle their worms in the shallows for fingerlings and caught one. I didn't catch anything, but the winsome river and the clouds like great divine pastries baked by the setting sun to a brilliant orange pink beneath and set on a table of ice blue, made me wonder how I had stayed away so long. We fried Drex's fish for breakfast the following morning and he ate it in one bite, with exceeding relish. The next evening he caught three more. Maybe when we move to Lisbon and find all the good fishing spots around there we’ll include guided fishing trips on the list of VisitingPortugal.com amenities. Drex likes the idea of being a guide.

Please pray for thirteen-year-old Angelo. He used to be one of our most regular artists at Vivarte. He came almost every day to practice guitar, among other things. Lately he’s been in a slide, though, and we’ve seen less of him. His schoolwork has completely crashed. I think a big part of the problem may be his dad’s recent release from prison and subsequent reentrance into his life. His dad bought him new Nikes and a new cell phone, but they don’t seem to have given him either surer footing or improved communication. Angelo is off balance. His mom seems to be trying to control him, which only hardens his resolve to be free of her. Today he asked me if we could make a chair for his room. At Vivarte, we make a nice chair out of garbage. That is, from wood taken from pallets thrown out by the home and garden store. I jumped at the chance to make one with Angelo. When it comes to helping kids with their projects, I subscribe to a theory from Jeff VanVonderen’s book, Families Where Grace is in Place. He says the object of the game is to bring just enough of our own power to bear so the kids can succeed. I knew Angelo would need plenty of auxiliary power. He lasted about fifteen minutes before drifting away to a guitar. I figured if pressed he’d abandon the chair, so I finished cutting out the pieces myself. “Tomorrow we’ll put your chair together,” I said. Please ask God to put Angelo’s life together. His eleven-year-old sister, Cata, a joy who loves baseball, could use your prayers, too.

Thank you for praying with us and for us. In heaven you’ll see the effect of all this praying and it will be immeasurably beyond your imagining. Blessed week to you.

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[1] Luke 14:5

Caught in a Vortex

One of the questions I had when I came to Portugal was whether it would be possible to have fellowship with Catholics as we have had in the United States; to leave aside, for the most part, our doctrinal differences, talk candidly about spiritual matters, pray together and encourage one another’s faith. The answer is yes. The early-morning peripatetic men’s group I’ve asked you to pray for has been having a spectacular time doing those very things. Each morning we read and discuss a verse or two from the Bible printed in Portuguese and English. They help me with the Portuguese. I help them with the English. Our most enthusiastic member, Senhor Araujo, says his life has changed completely as result of our discussions and prayers. He says he sometimes prays spontaneously with his family at home now, much to their surprise. He may be in the process of being born again. Please pray it would be so. Please also pray for the continuation of the group after my departure for Lisbon at the end of June. Finally, pray I can get another similar group started in Lisbon. By walking together and staying away from church we not only get good exercise, we avoid a lot of unnecessary conflict.

It looks as if this house may be turned into a foster home for kids under the care of the Bomfim Foundation, the foundation affiliated with our church, the same foundation that operates Vivarte. Our landlords met here today with Anabela Pereira, the Executive Director of Bomfim and my co-Sunday school teacher, and Carla Pego, Austin’s sister-in-law and the person responsible for the operations of the foster homes. Everyone was very enthusiastic. The next step is to get the house approved by the authorities and make a few minor modifications. The foster home that may move here might be that of Alvaro Azevedo, former Habitat for Humanity construction assistant, and his wife, who care for seven foster children who often play in the street where they live now. What a blessing it would be for them to have this big back yard and the neighborhood soccer court a stone’s throw away.

Please pray for Drex. When one is accustomed to the clever, delicately balanced repartee of a household such as our own, having one parent 366 kilometers away can be disorienting. Translation: He's tired of his father harping at him all the time. "Are you having bad days, Dad? You seem angry," he said this evening. And I thought I was doing great today! I was Mr. Patient! I was feeling real spiritual. What must he have been thinking last week when I was dragging a little? Maybe Drex isn't the only one for whom you should be praying. Whether it is a manifestation of these stresses or deeper relational issues between him and his teacher, Drex is finding it difficult to face his professora day after day. He says she criticizes him. Here, Drex is caught in a vortex. At home, he receives the standard American lavish positive reinforcement treatment. About the harshest criticism he hears for anything other than deliberate disobedience is, “Good try!” But positive reinforcement has not yet arrived in Portugal. When a math problem is incorrect, it is “bad.” When a tree is not green, or a sun is not yellow, they are bad, too. What is a nine-year-old to think? One good thing that has already come of the conflict is that it has made Drex more a man of prayer. Please pray he would be increasingly so and that God would transform his relationship with his teacher.

God bless you and keep you and make His face to shine upon you this week. Thank you very much for your prayers.