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In August of 2008,
Mac Lawton, Patty Lawton, Brandon O’Shields, and Owen Robertson
traveled to Campinas, Brazil, to explore the possibilities of
EFBC partnering with Hope Unlimited. After witnessing the
kingdom work that Hope is doing with children who are deemed by
the courts to be in mortal danger, Easley First Baptist has entered a three-year
partnership with Hope Unlimited.
The
partnership will take the following initial format:
1. Send 200+ Christmas
Shoeboxes to the children of Hope
2. Sunday School Classes
or other small groups adopt a group house
This would include
providing for birthday celebrations, occasional household
outings, and monthly toiletry and school supplies. A house
consists of 16 boys or 8 girls.
3. conduct a one-week
Discipleship & Arts (or Sports) camp in Summer 2009
This would include
renting a facility for the camp, food for the campers and staff,
transporting the campers to the camp site, and any special
equipment needed for the camp. EFBC Mission Volunteers would be
limited to 10-15 people.
You can access more
information about the children of Hope and the work that Hope
Unlimited is doing by going to:
www.hopeunlimited.org.
Brazil Journal
August 21 – Day 2
At age three, Joseph’s
mother gave him to the local witchdoctor. He was kept in a small
closet and was let out on two occasions: to ingest the blood of
sacrificial animals and to be bled for his pure blood. Joseph
was used as a conduit. He wasn’t given an education. He wasn’t
given love. He was used as a thing. He lived a life without hope
– until a neighbor finally reported the moans and screams.
The authorities took
Joseph out of the darkness and brought him to Hope. His mother
had no concept that what she had done to Joseph was wrong – it
simply was the way things were. It’s what had been done to her
by her parents. It’s what had been done to her parents by her
grandparents. It brought her an elevated status in the
community.
Joseph’s older brother
came to take his brother back home – back to the suffering. But
when he witnessed Hope, when he saw the love and education and
hope that young Joseph was given, he only had one question: “Why
wasn’t there someone to hear my cries and intervene on my
behalf?”
As we stood around
Joseph’s bed, my mind raced with the connections of Joseph to
Joseph. Both were abused and mistreated by family. Both were
sold into slavery. Neither escaped the notice of God. One
brought hope to future generations. Our prayers were that this
Joseph would do the same. We prayed that what some intended for
harm, God would use for good – to bring blessing and hope. We
stood with our hands on Joseph’s bed, on his pillow, under his
sheets. We prayed that God would hold Joseph in the dark; that
the bed sheets would be the very arms and presence of God
wrapped lovingly around young Joseph to still the nightmares and
bring restful, peaceful sleep. We prayed for good dreams.
We prayed at each bed in
the house, calling each boy by name – sixteen in this house. We
prayed for the house parent and his family. Each bed had a name.
Each bed had a face. Each bed had a story. And each one of them
gave Hope.
If there’s one thing
that I would have changed about our trip to Hope Unlimited in
Campinas, Brazil, we would have prayed around 207 beds – not
just 16.
This past Monday
morning, we started a men’s Bible Study on the book of James –
one of the shortest, most challenging books in the Bible.
Chapter 1 ends with these words: Religion that God our Father
accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and
widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted
by the world.
One of the beds in the
picture below belongs to Joseph. You can’t tell which one. It
looks like an ordinary bed – until you kneel down and call his
name in prayer.
I hope that you’ll have
the opportunity to do just that.
August 22 – Day 3
We visited a favella today – a slum with a population larger
than Easley. We had to obtain permission from the favella’s
president – something like an elected community organizer –
to get safe passage.
We had a flat tire on the muddy road. Open sewage runs down
the middle of the street. We changed the tire quickly –
worried that, safe passage or not, we might be robbed. I’d
hate to lose my camera. This is the first time I’ve used
anti-bacterial soap after changing a tire.
A small family invited us into their home – you wouldn’t
call it a house. We prayed with the mother and her children.
The little girls have beautiful smiles. They’re shy – never
had a gringo in their home before. The roof is tin. The
walls are plywood and slant. Nothing is insulated. Water
pours in when it rains. Everything shakes in the wind.
Nothing but a dirt floor, yet they have a TV and DVD player.
Funny. I guess everyone has a need to watch football – or
soccer. All the wiring is exposed, spliced together and
running like spider-webs at odd angles. These children will
end up prostituting themselves, stealing, and selling drugs
on the street.
As we say our “Thank You’s,” I notice the young boy, about
eleven years old. He has the most beautiful green eyes. I
wonder what those eyes have witnessed in their eleven
years.
This is where the children of Hope originate. I whisper a
prayer. I thank God for Hope and the work they’re doing. I
pray that one day soon, these three children will be at hope
– I believe it may be their only hope. I thank God that this
is not the place from which I originate – and yet I know
that in some ways it is.
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