Easter. A Rat. A Snake. Some Chicken Guards. Oh, and the Visitors.

Sunday I was asked to share my story about Eugenio and going to court with a group of local missionaries as part of their Easter service. It was an honor. I loved being home and getting to speak at LifeSprings, Beulah, Cokesbury and Warm Spring during their Sunday services. Getting to share an Easter message was humbling. I shared the story of being robbed, and paying the prisoner’s fines. I did it only because I trusted God. It was not my incredible kindness or heart of great love, but my simple trust in God and knowing Him. I shared my revelation of all that God and His Son have paid for me and how I want to be a good steward of the freedom He gave me by paying a price for me. It is a lifelong lesson for me. Each day, of course, brings a new mercy and a new revelation and I am only beginning to learn just what freedom in Christ means. 

I was exhausted from the sleepless night and came home to take a nap. I woke up groggy and pulled my laptop in bed with me and watched an ancient episode of “Good Eats”. They were filmed in Atlanta and I think he must be at that Disco Kroger in some of them. This episode he was at The Silver Skillet, making biscuits. As I am watching, I also watch a gecko climb the wall in front of me. I watched him for a little while and lost interest and went back to the biscuit making. I heard another faint noise. Since the previous rat infestation and my squirrel encounter, all noises of any kind get my attention, even tiny ones. This noise is so faint it is almost nothing. I looked up just in time to see a snake fall from my rafters onto the floor and then a rat duck back up into the ceiling. I paused in fear. My door was closed and the snake was between me and the door but I wanted to get out and fast. I threw a pillow at him and it worked, sorta. It put an object between him and me and the door and I bolted. Shivers ran down my spine as I leapt out of the room in pretty much a single bound. I found Carola in the kitchen and I announced, “there’s a snake in my room”. Carola the Doctor, takes action. She instantly put on her shoes so I did too. We stood there with our shoes on and she asked me “What should we do?”. I told her to call the guard. We were both speaking a mix of English and Portuguese. “Chamar a guarda”, I said. She ran outside to call the guard and I stood at attention, staring at the floor in my bedroom, not at the snake of course, but at the general area in front of the snake so that I could point out where he is not rather than where he is. The guards arrived with flashlights and Billy clubs. They walked one in front of the other and at the mention of “cobra” they would not even go into my room. They told us that cobras will bite, they will kill you and you will die. I rolled my eyes as I knew where this is going. They were more afraid than I was.  They were hovered together in the kitchen. I joined them. Quick thinking Carola got on the phone and called the other doctor, the South African male one. He came over and so patiently, with not one ounce of fear or concern, walked into my room, moved the pillow, whacked the snake with a Billy club and walked out of the house. The guards followed him with the snake, triumphantly on a bamboo stick. Carola followed them and beat the snake into a pulp, I assume. I stayed inside until the hebejebe’s allowed me to stand back up. I had given up animal proteins, yeast and sugars for the past month or so. There are some things all the Duty Free Vodka one can stash simply cannot fix and for this I needed one thing, chocolate. Carola had a box of cookies in the refrigerator. We broke them out and ate cookies for an hour. We anointed the house with oil and prayed for those dang barracas again, declared our home to be a sanctuary and not a place for pestilence and reptiles and rodents. Of course, we laughed as we did this and we wielded our swords. I read Psalm 91 and fell into a sugar induced sleep. I awoke to a sugar hangover headache this morning. I am home now for lunch and writing this, glaring at the space from whence the rat and the snake entered last night, praying more. After the snake was dead last night,  the guard came back and asked me for mosquito repellent. I gave it to him. Then he told me that that snake was a baby and there would be “many more”. He told me I need to buy some rubber and burn it and that they don’t like the smell and will leave. He told me I can buy this device for $1 (25 mets). I gave him the money and this morning at 5:30am, he showed up with this:

It’s a broom-like device made from rubber and mecuti and bamboo. When he told Carola it was what the witch doctors used, we opted against it. Plus wise Twyla told us it would make the whole house stink to high heaven (my words, not hers). 

The view from Church on Easter Sunday

We had a visiting team teach in the school this week. It was wonderful for me, because I got to just sit and listen and didn’t have to “perform” all day. My students made me proud by being polite and respectful, for the most part. The team taught on “identity” and knowing who you are in Christ. We made English language lessons out of the new vocabulary they gave us, and the teachings were translated. But the students got 3 days of lessons on knowing who you are in Christ. The visitors spent a great deal of time, each telling their own stories of their lives, once feeling very dejected, abused, many becoming addicted, to now living a life of joy because of their relationships with Christ. It was beautiful to see my students listen to and respond to their stories. The team simply spoke loving words over the students and called them, important, valuable, beautiful, incredible. Their countenance changed as did the atmosphere in the room. One of the muslim boys in the room wanted to argue and the team stayed after class to talk to him and answer his questions. It was great for the students to get the individual attention. They eat that stuff up. They spent a lesson simply drawing pictures for one another. A visitor gave a student a picture of a fish and asked if that meant anything to him. He said that good things in his life are hidden and are deep and you have to go deep to find them but they are there. Our daily conversations in class are so surface level. I give them practical language and we learn about grammar. We don’t talk about “vocabulary of the heart” :) and it was beautiful to do so. 

Team of Visitors from Bethel Church, Redding, CA