A few photos of my Brazil.

Small moments that mean a lot

Walking home on the crunchy snow that lights up a December evening, I felt so thankful. The revelation that fellowship and being together is the best gift you can give someone, and realising that although it might seem small, it can turn into something big when a person feels seen and valued. Yesterday I helped out with a crafts workshop for a group of lovely women volunteering for Crux where I worked before (well, in all honesty: they were making angels while I ate Christmas cookies, Quality Street chocolate, and chatted). I love walking alongside people in conversation, and realise sharing life for 2 hours can last so much longer in value and experience. This evening we had our Christmas dinner for volunteers and people who are part of my current job. It was a delightful evening with many nations gathered around the same table…. eating the same food… and for a few hours creating a small fellowship moment that will become a good memory for the future. Often in my job ...

Tired.

Today I've been really really tired all day. I guess it's part of life and also part of getting ready to leave. Today I dragged myself out of bed, and had a cup of tea to get going. And when the mum we were taking to see her son in prison wasn't in, the morning went doing bits and pieces. This afternoon we were at the bussterminal to see the streetkids. It was a good time I guess, but the group of kids there at the moment are really just so lost. Totally drugged, dirty, and don't really care about anything. It's like they've lost all innocence. When I got back I looked through a few past reports getting them ready to do the monthly overview of the kids we've met this month. I felt really sad. One kid said her dream was that her mum would stop drinking, another girl told of a stepfather who molested her and her sisters, and another boy told of how his dad would hit his sister. And I am left with the question of: where is the hope and future for these kids? So...

What moves a person’s heart?

As we started to sing the Norwegian Christmas song “Mitt hjerte alltid vanker i Jesu føderom” (translation: My heart it always wanders in Jesus’ birthplace”), they took the initiative to stand up and take each others hands. It’s was a powerful moment, and I think that at that point there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Singing of finding home and the blessed Christmas night , a place of such hope and peace and freedom, moved us all. It caught me off guard and I hadn’t expected such vulnerability from these women. Many of them live with a wall built around their hearts as protection from a life which they have experienced as far from safe and kind. Now they find themselves literally behind bars, and yet behind the tough exteriors, are hearts that are still capable of being moved. Moved by being literally overwhelmed by presents and love and the message of value and hope. Moved to maybe, just maybe, believe that they are worth more than what life has communicated to them so far. ...

On a journey...

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