Bon Dia, Good Morning, Buenos Dias.
This summer I did my internship with the Back to God Hour in Brasil. I was blessed by participating in a wide variety of quality Christian media programming alongside some fantastic people. To say that my experience was amazing, spectacular, and incredible does not cover it. I was told I only had ten minutes, and that is not enough; so I had to narrow down the stories some embarrassing and some not.
At first, I thought of sharing with you my experience with Brazilian hospitality within the context of Biblical hospitality…but I would have needed more than 10 minutes, and then I would have needed to invite you all over to my house for some amazing Brazilian coffee.
Then I thought that I could talk about experiencing general revelation Brasil. I would have shown you picture like these (gorgeous pictures of Brazil's landscape)that I took. But then I decided not to, because I didn’t want you to think I was on vacation while on my internship.
So finally after much reflection and prayer on my experience, I decided to share with you something that God taught me. But before I get to that I need to share with you a long life tension I’ve had.
As some of you know I was born in Argentina but raised in Miami. I am American but not. I am Argentinean but I’m not. Regardless of which country I am in, to a certain extent an outsider. In the United States people more often than not have difficulty pronouncing my last name and they often wonder why I don’t like spicy food. When I would visit Argentina, my cousins would call me their Yankee cousin and make fun of me for not having an Argentine accent in Spanish. I felt like an inside outsider in the two places I could call home and I hated it.
When deciding where to go on my summer internship, part of the reason I choose Brasil was because I knew enough about the country to know I would like it. As soon I met George the Brazilian Dutch man who picked us up from the airport, I knew I would ease into the culture. Everyone was warm and kind. If they spoke slowly I could understand them perfectly. I just eased into the daily rhythm of Brazilian life.
Midway through my internship, I found myself relaxing in the back seat of a Fiat. We were on our way to Parachi, a quaint colonial city in Rio state. This four-hour drive was a much-needed break for me. It was very draining translating from Portuguese to Spanish to English almost every waking hour. It was nice not having to talk…and if you know me, you know that you that’s a rarity in my life! As I sat there in silence and looked outside the window at the moving mountains, I finally got to take a catch breath. While looking at the low green mist-covered mountains, I began reflecting on my experience in Brasil. I asked myself the question, Why has it been easy for me to adapt to cultures? I had done it in Spain, even Grand Rapids, and now Brasil.
As those glorious mountains were passing me by at 70 kilometers an hour, I got my answer. I realized that though I don’t have a place to call home, in reality I have the ability to call many places home. I realized that the same life circumstances that cause me pain also make me relate to a variety of cultures. New cultures don’t scare me, they invigorate me. I realize I have a gift resulting from much pain.
I think of Paul and imagine how he felt being Jewish but Roman. How he felt being pulled by two very different cultures. I can imagine him wanting to reconcile the fact that he was a Jewish with the fact that he felt at ease in the world Rome had created. But I also think of what Paul did with his own life and how his life circumstances prepared him in a way to feel comfortable in Damascus, Athens, Rome, and Spain. Paul felt just as comfortable in a Jewish synagogue as he did in a Roman court house. I think Paul understood God’s sovereignty better than I ever had, better than most of us do. He understood that the thorns of the flesh or the soul will always glorify our Father, even if we are too preoccupied with dealing with the pain.
I may never have one single place to call home and now I can say post Brasil that I am ok with that. I now understand what God told Paul. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” I am just grateful that I did not learn this lesson on a sinking ship or in prison, but that rather, God revealed His truth to me amongst mountains that echoed His glory.
This summer I did my internship with the Back to God Hour in Brasil. I was blessed by participating in a wide variety of quality Christian media programming alongside some fantastic people. To say that my experience was amazing, spectacular, and incredible does not cover it. I was told I only had ten minutes, and that is not enough; so I had to narrow down the stories some embarrassing and some not.
At first, I thought of sharing with you my experience with Brazilian hospitality within the context of Biblical hospitality…but I would have needed more than 10 minutes, and then I would have needed to invite you all over to my house for some amazing Brazilian coffee.
Then I thought that I could talk about experiencing general revelation Brasil. I would have shown you picture like these (gorgeous pictures of Brazil's landscape)that I took. But then I decided not to, because I didn’t want you to think I was on vacation while on my internship.
So finally after much reflection and prayer on my experience, I decided to share with you something that God taught me. But before I get to that I need to share with you a long life tension I’ve had.
As some of you know I was born in Argentina but raised in Miami. I am American but not. I am Argentinean but I’m not. Regardless of which country I am in, to a certain extent an outsider. In the United States people more often than not have difficulty pronouncing my last name and they often wonder why I don’t like spicy food. When I would visit Argentina, my cousins would call me their Yankee cousin and make fun of me for not having an Argentine accent in Spanish. I felt like an inside outsider in the two places I could call home and I hated it.
When deciding where to go on my summer internship, part of the reason I choose Brasil was because I knew enough about the country to know I would like it. As soon I met George the Brazilian Dutch man who picked us up from the airport, I knew I would ease into the culture. Everyone was warm and kind. If they spoke slowly I could understand them perfectly. I just eased into the daily rhythm of Brazilian life.
Midway through my internship, I found myself relaxing in the back seat of a Fiat. We were on our way to Parachi, a quaint colonial city in Rio state. This four-hour drive was a much-needed break for me. It was very draining translating from Portuguese to Spanish to English almost every waking hour. It was nice not having to talk…and if you know me, you know that you that’s a rarity in my life! As I sat there in silence and looked outside the window at the moving mountains, I finally got to take a catch breath. While looking at the low green mist-covered mountains, I began reflecting on my experience in Brasil. I asked myself the question, Why has it been easy for me to adapt to cultures? I had done it in Spain, even Grand Rapids, and now Brasil.
As those glorious mountains were passing me by at 70 kilometers an hour, I got my answer. I realized that though I don’t have a place to call home, in reality I have the ability to call many places home. I realized that the same life circumstances that cause me pain also make me relate to a variety of cultures. New cultures don’t scare me, they invigorate me. I realize I have a gift resulting from much pain.
I think of Paul and imagine how he felt being Jewish but Roman. How he felt being pulled by two very different cultures. I can imagine him wanting to reconcile the fact that he was a Jewish with the fact that he felt at ease in the world Rome had created. But I also think of what Paul did with his own life and how his life circumstances prepared him in a way to feel comfortable in Damascus, Athens, Rome, and Spain. Paul felt just as comfortable in a Jewish synagogue as he did in a Roman court house. I think Paul understood God’s sovereignty better than I ever had, better than most of us do. He understood that the thorns of the flesh or the soul will always glorify our Father, even if we are too preoccupied with dealing with the pain.
I may never have one single place to call home and now I can say post Brasil that I am ok with that. I now understand what God told Paul. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” I am just grateful that I did not learn this lesson on a sinking ship or in prison, but that rather, God revealed His truth to me amongst mountains that echoed His glory.
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