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Can't sleep...

Can’t sleep. It’s almost 1 am, but I am wide-awake (written with my eyes wide open and no yawns in sight). I don’t know why. I had a cup of tea around 21h30, but that’s it. And honestly, I think my body is way beyond being affected by a cup of tea, taking into consideration the vast amounts of caffeine it’s been subjected to over the years.

I managed to connect with a couple of my very good friends in Fortaleza today, and I think my conversations with them are mulling around in my mind. It’s funny how as soon as I hear their voices I am transported back, and feel like I am right there with them. And it is funny how as they share about what is going on with people and situations I catch myself saying “we should do…” and “I think we…”

It’s good to hear good news. Hear of how the toughest youth prison I only made it into once is now asking us to come in and work regularly with them. Hear of how one of the coordinator in another prison became a Christian. Hear of how the boys on the farm are doing so well they can no longer be called street kids, and how one of them is planning to do DTS next year. Good to hear of how God is impacting lives in the community with the girls and prostitutes. It all touches my heart and brings such a longing to be back and be part of it.

And heartbreaking to hear that three of the kids, now adults, I have known for many years made it onto television because they killed a man. It’s a cruel world where people make very bad choices!

One or my friends told me Rachel just had another baby. When I saw her for the last time back in April, the thought crossed my mind that she might be pregnant, and I suppose I was right. James had come to the project to let them know. Apparently he was chubby, looking well, and saying he wasn’t using drugs anymore. They are still on the streets, but I choose to believe that all that has been invested will amount to something! I asked my friend to give them both a big hug from me when she sees them again. It makes me happy to hear that they are doing good, but also kind of desperate to hear of child number 5 seeing the light of day to this couple of 21 year olds who choose the streets to be their home. Especially knowing that the three boys who are still alive are in the care of social services (they had a daughter a few years ago who died only 5 days old).

Hearing news makes me feel so close and involved, yet almost even further away. I miss being there. I miss being able to be involved in lives. I miss “getting my hands dirty” as the saying goes. I am doing really well here at Grimerud and it is a blessing, but sometimes I get a bit restless and impatient. And so as I sit here feeling awake yet tired I feel tears fill my eyes once again. Tears of “saudade” (missing). Tears of sadness that I am no longer part of the ministry I still feel so connected to. Tears for the news that I heard which wasn’t as good, and tears for people and situations I worry about.

I suppose I should give sleep another shot. My room is too hot as my radiator got “fixed” on Friday, but can now not be turned down and so is spewing out masses of heat, which quickly fill a very small room (which mine is). The solution is having the window open which creates a strange cold-hot synergy and stuffy feeling.

But that’s life. And compared to the extreme situations that fill my mind, it’s not important. I mean, I’ll try to get someone to fix it, but right now I don’t really care.

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