Name: Jord Date: Sun Jan 9 16:21:23 2005
Please excuse my absences the last couple of Sundays. I’ve been
struggling to get back in the groove since returning from a wonderful
Christmas in Lisbon with Debbie’s family. Debbie’s dad and I took long
walks all over the city most mornings. Debbie’s mom played Fairy
godmother to Austin’s Cinderella and made the dress appear for the ball.
Drex reveled in the attentions of his Aunt Cindy. Vitor played John Denver
and Simon and Garfunkel, some of which he'd never heard, on his guitar
New Year's Eve so we could sing along. Lisbon put on a spectacular fire
works display. Debbie was warm. All of
us were thankful. ##### It sure seems like there’s been a lot of death
going around. Along with the tidal wave, friends of ours lost their baby
this week when he was born three months prematurely. I have to remind
myself not to be overcome by death, but to overcome death with life. I
have to counterattack: Feed stray cats. Plant bulbs. Touch people gently,
look them in the eye, smile. Pray. It’s a miracle the world works as well
as it does. Wreckage and bloated bodies on beaches are testimony to the
unlikelihood that natural phenomena, even a very long succession of them,
would on their own produce life. Something More is at work. It is a
Creator with whom we have to deal, and if He sometimes permits events to
unfold in ways contrary to what we think best, we do well to remember
that death only comes as an affront because He has graciously allowed us
to become accustomed to life. ##### Here’s what 2005 looks like for us:
Debbie and I are trying to buy two more little houses in the same Lisbon
neighborhood as Casa Joaquina. We’ve been renting Casa Jo to tourists for
a year and the results have been encouraging. We hope with three places
to offer we might make enough to live on and still have time for
ministry. So Debbie will spend the first half of the year running back
and forth between Braga and Lisbon. There’s the wedding at the end of
March. As soon as Drex finishes school in June we expect to move to
Lisbon. Moving is always hard. Still, I’m hopeful some of our Braga
friendships will continue. Lisbon’s not that far. I’m planning a trip to
America in September. Our house needs painting and it will cost less to
fly there and paint it than it would to hire it out. While I’m there I
have about a year’s worth of other things I want to do and people with
whom I want to spend time. I’ll have to pay close attention to the Holy
Spirit to find out what He has in Mind. ##### Don’t pray for us this week.
You’ve got enough to pray about. Pray for
Asia. Pray for Africa. Pray for Iraq. Blessed week to you.
--------------------------------------------------
Name: Jord Date: Mon Jan 17 03:57:16 2005
David, a focused, energetic eleven year-old who moved across town last
fall, away from one of the neighborhoods where Vivarte operates, returns
almost every day after school on bicycle in order to continue his Vivarte
work. These days he’s building furniture, using wood salvaged from
donated palettes. He’s finished a chair and begun a table. David is
attracted by power tools—the jigsaw, the drill, the sander—and the chance
to see his ideas realized. I hope his work will inspire other kids,
especially the older ones who hang around on the corners smoking dope,
and I hope to use it as a catalyst to talk more with David and others
about how God has given them energy, interests and abilities for the
particular work He’d like them to do, and how important they are to Him.
Please pray that I will be attentive to the opportunities God gives me to
do so. We’re thinking of starting a weekly, informal Bible-based
discussion after hours at Vivarte called, “Love, Joy, Peace,” for
adolescents, young people and adults. Please ask God to direct us and to
create in the neighborhoods a hunger to know Him more. ##### Thanks for
praying for Drex to get connected at church. Until recently he hadn’t
been going to Sunday school. Then I started helping teach the class for
kids his age and taking him with me. The class is 90% male. My job is to
plan the games. Sock fights, for example. These operate on the same
principles as snowball fights, only with rolled socks. Drex has
strengthened some friendships and established others. It is not uncommon
now for some of these friends to spend Sunday afternoon at our house, as
two of them did today. It’s nice to have him hanging out with Christians.
Of course, it doesn’t make it any easier to move to Lisbon. We’ll miss
our church, which has been the anchor of our life in Braga. If you’ve
followed the story carefully you’ll remember that we visited this church
in August of 2000 when we were in Braga on vacation and were greeted at
the door by Jonatas Pego, smiling winningly and speaking perfect English.
This is the same Jonatas Pego who reminded me, when I returned to Braga
to interview for the Habitat construction supervisor job in March of
2001, after hearing that we would like to move to Portugal but couldn’t
afford it, that the Israelites had to step out into the Jordan River
before God made the water stand still so they could cross. It’s the same
Jonatas Pego who’s wife’s brother Austin is marrying. The pastor, Steve
Mosely, and his family, have been our closest friends. We don’t expect
God to repeat this performance in Lisbon, but we would appreciate it if
you’d ask Him to show us where He’d like us to worship. While you’re at
it, would you please ask Him to show us where to live, where to play and
where Drex ought to go to school? The latter looks as if it may be
particularly complex. It’s nice God is good at what He does. ##### As
always, we appreciate your prayers very much. Blessed week to you.
--------------------------------------------------
Name: Jord Date: Mon Jan 24 15:07:13 2005
The fireworks this weekend in Tenões, the little section of Braga in
which we live, were for Saint Sebastian, who was finally beaten to death
in 288 after surviving execution with bow and arrow and so became patron
saint of archers. I don’t know how widespread the commotion was, only
that our eighty-one year old neighbor, Dona Rosa, had on her dancing
shoes Friday evening and marched in the parade Sunday afternoon. When a
hamlet like Tenões puts on a fireworks display, in order to get the
biggest bang for their euros, they use explosives that emit no light but
sound like cannons. They are alarming, especially in rapid succession,
and it’s impossible to become accustomed to them. Most hair-raising of
all, however, are the long bamboo spears upon which the bombs are
launched. After discharging their loads the spears rain down like a scene
from Brave Heart. It’s astonishing one doesn’t hear more about people
being skewered. ##### Jacque the Peugeot was sent home from the hospital
this week to spend his remaining days resting in the driveway. There is
nothing more the doctor can do. Further intervention would be unseemly.
He is hemorrhaging oil mingled with gasoline. One can see exactly where
he was parked when Drex was picked up at school last week and where he
was parked at church. We are not anxious to have the evidence traced to
us, so we drive Manuel the Habitat truck whenever possible. To serve in
Jacque’s place we have our eye on a used black Toyota Yaris Verso named
Lerch, because of his resemblance to the Adams Family’s butler. Like the
butler, he looks like a cross between a Gremlin and a bread truck, and
represents a compromise we hope will enable us to consolidate our
transportation needs—everything from picking up foreign dignitaries at
the airport to transporting wood palettes from the dumpster at the home
supply store—into a single vehicle when we move to Lisbon since driving
Manuel there is like passing a camel through the eye of a needle. #####
The day after Christmas, as we scurried about readying Casa Jo for
guests, I foolishly removed the “Slippery When Wet,” sign from the
winding terrace stairs. Moments later, out went my feet from under me and
down I clattered as the extended family looked on helplessly. So
frustrated was I by the fall that I went right back to work when I
probably should have relaxed a bit. Almost immediately I got light-
headed, turned a shade of green for which I have become famous and
decided to sit down. Next thing I knew Debbie’s Mom’s voice roused me
from a pleasant dream. Though I am usually very happy to see her I
confess I was a little disappointed. It turned out I had missed a lot of
excitement. Austin had been trying to call an ambulance, Debbie had been
trapped beneath my limp form and Drex had been paralyzed with fear. I
felt rested and refreshed, but Debbie insisted Austin drive me to the
emergency room where we spent the balance of the day while Debbie vented
her pent-up anxieties on housecleaning. I checked out fine except for my
pulse, which was 40, which made me happy, because even in my youth when I
trained hours each day in the pool it never got that low. The doctor was
not as encouraged and suggested I visit my own doctor in January for more
poking and prodding. That appointment is scheduled for the 28th in Lisbon
with Dr. Maia and he and Debbie have been conspiring to outfit me with
heart monitors and journals to record my every move. I will overcome the
psychological barriers to this equipment by pretending that I am Steve
Austin, the Six Million Dollar Man, an extraordinary physical specimen in
whom science has a great investment and interest. It is my civic duty to
submit. Pray our guests at Casa Jo heed the “Slippery When Wet” sign.
##### Kind of a light week for you prayer-wise. You can use your extra
energy to rejoice in the Lord, as He is more than worthy and doing so is
the only thing that brings enduring satisfaction. Blessed week to you.
--------------------------------------------------
Name: Jord Date: Sun Feb 6 15:13:01 2005
Late yesterday afternoon, with the forested slope rising outside our
kitchen window gilded by the sun’s adieu, I lit the Sabbath candle,
poured myself a glass of Portuguese green wine, put on Cristina Branco to
sing fado and started a salad for dinner. Suddenly it hit me: I love
Portugal. Until yesterday, I would have told you I love God and God led
us to Portugal and has proved Himself faithful time after time here in
more ways than I could recount. Portugal was fine, and certainly nice in
its own right in many respects, but interesting principally as the
background against which God has acted. But I realize now I have kept
Portugal at arms length. I have been like an archeologist or a visitor to
a museum: “Isn’t this fascinating,” “Isn’t that charming.” But yesterday
was far from the first time I had acted out that little scene with the
setting sun and the singing and the salad, and a lot of other scenes like
it. “This is not an act,” I said to myself, astonished. “You do this
because you love it.” What the long term implications of this revelation
will be are unclear, but it changes the light in which I regard
everything I see. I wanted to weep today when I saw our eighty-one-year-
old neighbor, Dona Rosa, and our friends at church. Another implication
is that I see better how much I love America. ##### As you may have
heard, Millard Fuller and his wife Linda were fired by the board of
directors from their positions of leadership at Habitat for Humanity, the
organization they founded in 1976, as a result of disagreements arising
out of a relationship between Millard and a female Habitat employee. It’s
hard to imagine anything more deflating. Millard has been the visionary,
the man who continually called us back to the Gospel of Jesus Christ and
the impossible dream of eliminating poverty housing from the earth. Who
will be the visionary now? Please pray for Habitat and for the Fullers.
##### Last week, technical difficulties and the fact that the technical
support team was in Lisbon, prevented me from posting an update here.
This is too bad, because the update was by far the best I have ever
written and will probably win a Pulitzer Prize. As a small consolation to
you, here is the paragraph pertaining to my doctor’s visit January 28:
Years ago, when the infirmities of middle age began encroaching upon our
happy home, Debbie and I agreed we would each take responsibility for our
own health care management, but that foremost among our priorities would
be procuring and providing, to the extent possible, all the information
necessary to address the concerns each person has about the health of the
other. In other words, my job, when Dr. Maia and I met Friday, was to get
answers to all Debbie’s questions. Those questions included, “Why did I
pass out?” “Why did I stop breathing?” “Is this likely to happen again?”
and, “What should we do if it does happen again?” Instead of asking Dr.
Maia those questions, he and I chatted amicably about the battery of
tests I had been through, and other subjects. He lavishly praised my
treadmill test, saying I had the best one of the day by 40 heart beats
per minute and that given my performance my low pulse rate after the fall
may not have been anomalous. “You’re fine. Don’t fall down stairs,” were,
essentially, his diagnosis and prescription, which I found perfectly
satisfactory because they exactly coincide with my own. But not getting
answers to the tough questions has made my popularity rating at home
precariously low. A big part of the problem is that on December 26, while
the rest of the family was in the early stages of dealing with the
apparent loss of a loved one, I slept peacefully. They say different
people present at the same accident will have widely varying accounts . .
. But I am trying to complete my due diligence. I’ve faxed Debbie’s
questions to Dr. Maia. I’ll let you know if he has anything interesting
to add. [No news yet]. ##### You are extremely nice to pray for us. Do
you have any idea how powerful your prayers are? Wait ‘til you find out!
Blessed week to you.
--------------------------------------------------
Name: Jord Date: Mon Feb 14 14:04:30 2005
Last week was Carnival (Mardi Gras) week. Carnival in Braga is very tame
compared to what you may have seen elsewhere. Thankfully, the language
appears to be the only thing Braga’s celebration has in common with
Brazil’s. As usual, the only people naked in the streets in Braga were
the advertisers. Everyone else was dressed as Zoro. Except me. I was
governor of California. ##### Debbie is learning German and a smattering
of other European languages. She had the VisitingPortugal.com keywords
translated so the website brings in Googling non-English speakers. This
has made communication more challenging but it has brought renters, which
is good for business but not ideal for family togetherness, as it means
Debbie spends more time in Lisbon than in Braga. Please pray we don’t
forget what she looks like and that God will give us all a great big fat
extra measure of His grace during this protracted transition. Please
continue to pray that Austin would be well, too. ##### One of the things
I like about being in my 40’s is that I am free to develop quirks. Not
that I haven’t had plenty of them for a long time, but quirks befit a man
in his 40’s. One quirk I’m developing is hat-tipping. When I take my
morning walk—I won’t be able to call it my “morning constitutional,”
another endearing quirk, the way Benjamin Franklin did, until I’m in my
60’s—I wear a shabby green fishing hat. When I pass people I tip my hat,
as a way of showing them respect. Showing people respect is a powerful
thing. It makes people feel good. It makes me feel like Gregory Peck.
It’s another way—like smiles and appropriate touches and eye contact—to
transfer power to people. Whenever we convey the truth of God to people
we give them power. And what is the truth of God for the people I pass on
my walk? What would God like to say to them? He’d like to say, “There you
are! How I’ve looked forward to being with you! I am so hopeful that
today may be a day we grow closer together.” That’s what I’m saying to
people, in miniature, when I tip my hat. ##### Thank you for praying for
us. Blessed week to you.
--------------------------------------------------
Name: Jord Date: Sun Feb 20 16:00:47 2005
The big news in Portugal this week was the death of “Carmelite Sister
Lucia dos Santos, the last of three Fatima visionaries, who died Feb. 13
in her cloistered convent in Coimbra at the age of 97. The Portuguese
government declared Feb. 15, the date of her funeral, a national day of
mourning. On May 13, 1917, when she was just 10 years old, Sister Lucia
and her two younger cousins claimed to have seen the Blessed Virgin Mary
at Fatima, near their home. The apparitions continued once a month until
Oct. 13, 1917.”* Today, Fatima is the Mississippi River of Portugal—at
the country’s core, dividing it geographically, culturally, spiritually,
and probably generationally. Sister Lucia is to the Portuguese self-
concept what Tom Sawyer is to the American. Senhor Silva, a member of
what has become a men’s group that meets most mornings to walk up and
back down Bom Jesus, the sanctuary in the shadow of which we live,
described this morning the beauty of the Fatima story. It is a road down
which the evangelical is unable to follow. Though wanting to affirm
Catholic spirituality whenever possible, he wonders what impact the
consecration of the country to Mary’s Immaculate Heart, in obedience to
the instructions Sister Lucia received from the vision, has had upon the
country’s spiritual well-being. ##### Please pray for Drex’s long
division. He was in Lisbon when his class learned the Portuguese method,
the logic of which—if indeed there is logic in it—eludes his parents,
diminishing their ability to help. Portuguese long division transforms
what has always and everywhere been a low point in the math curriculum
into the academic equivalent of cold oatmeal. (No one should ever eat
cold oatmeal). One senses that if one could grasp what goes through the
Portuguese mind when it does long division a lot of other elements of the
culture might be explained. The life lesson for Drex, of course, who
within a fortnight will do all future long division on a calculator, is
only tangential to math. It is the critical skill of identifying
situations wherein he needs extra help and must humbly do everything
necessary to get it. ##### No one enjoys a crisis,
but God specializes in redeeming them by using them to show people their
need for Him. We’ve got a friend, call her Yaz, who has been calling out
to God from the midst of her crisis. Please pray for Yaz, that God would
comfort, direct and encourage her and that her joy in Him may be
complete. ##### You are very kind to pray for us and with us. Let us know
how we may pray for you. Blessed week. ##### *Catholic News Service,
Tidings Online
--------------------------------------------------
Name: Jord Date: Mon Feb 28 12:32:33 2005
I guess we know one another well enough now that I don’t need to
apologize for being a head case. You must have built up some tolerance
for it or you wouldn’t be reading. At the beginning of the week I was
exactly like William Shakespeare when he wrote Sonnet 29: “In disgrace
with fortune and in men’s eyes, all alone beweeping my outcast state,
troubling Heaven with my bootless cries, looking upon myself, and cursing
my fate, wishing me like to one more rich in hope, featur’d like him,
like him with friends posess’d, desiring this man’s art, and that man’s
scope, with what I most enjoy contented least . . . “ After bumbling
along like that for a couple of days I remembered the benefits I’ve
enjoyed lately from memorizing scripture. In the past, when I’ve
memorized scripture, I’ve been like a person trying to drink from a
gushing faucet or trying to breath with my head stuck out the window of a
speeding car. I’ve memorized such big chunks it’s been impossible to take
in the sustenance I need. The promises went by too quickly. Lately, I’ve
been taking little pieces of scripture like candy and sucking on them for
days. About midweek I went looking for one of these little treats,
something that spoke to my circumstances, and found Salmo 71:5: “Tu es
minha esperança e confiança.” (You [God] are my hope and confidence.)
That about solves all my problems. If God is my hope and confidence I’m
bullet proof. All my fears—I’m wasting my time, my efforts on behalf of
the Kingdom of God are piddling, I’m not as neat as lots of other guys I
know of, you name it—are all put to rest. The security one finds in
making God their hope and confidence is the security we all need to
thrive. How much of the brilliance of the Jews through the ages is due to
their living and moving and having their being with God as their hope and
confidence? This is not the hope the world gives—that maybe you’ll get a
raise or your kids will be better off some day than you are or even that
someday you’ll go to heaven. This is the hope and confidence that you are
an integral part of God’s master plan for redeeming the world and that
your work will bear His image as naturally as a tree bears fruit. That’s
brilliant-making. And yet how often we evangelicals have turned what
should be the perfect medium for human growth into a wasteland; taken
this heritage of hope and confidence that is rightfully ours, too, and
made God out to be a diabolical game show host artfully devising
difficulties to prevent us from gaining some elusive prize. This week,
let’s keep in mind God our hope and confidence, in order that we and our
children may shine like stars. ##### Parenting philosophies differ
widely, it seems, with respect to children’s hair, but I like to use my
children’s hair as a means for them to exercise their burgeoning
autonomy. Difficult as it has been at times I like to leave hair
decisions to them as much as is humanly possible. I could still force
Drex to get his hair cut, but that won’t be true much longer, and when
the time arrives when it isn’t, he may as well have had some practice
making decisions about his appearance. This, along with a certain
tempestuous tendency in Drex’s hair, traceable to both sides of the
family, means that lately we’ve been tempted to give his hair a name of
its own, like Ivan or Charley. I think it may have been the casual
observation this week by our dear eighty-one-year-old neighbor, Dona
Rosa, that Jeanne or Frances might be more appropriate names that led
Drex to bring his entropic experiment to a close. I urged him to seek
professional help but he does not like strange men binding him and coming
at him with sharp pointy sticks so he insisted I do my best. I must say I
find the result—a flaxen turbulence tapering to the nape and setting off
the little cosmos of freckles on his nose—absolutely charming. #####
Speaking of young boys, there are a couple I’d like you to pray for at
Vivarte. André is a twelve-year-old physiognomological wonder: one look
at him and you think, “I’d better not turn my back on this guy for a
minute,” and you’re right. The expression he wears, that of a periscope
feigning innocence—simultaneously seeking and denying responsibility for
trouble—gives his face a look of startling malevolence. The only good
thing I’ve ever seen André do is show up right on time laden with the
bundle of wood he and I have been turning into a chair every time I’ve
been in his neighborhood the last two weeks. It’s wonderful to see him
directly his energy towards something constructive. Pray I can convince
André God loves him and wants to make him a blessing. Like André, nine-
year-old Filipe is on the road to self-destruction. He has an array of
behavioral problems that includes theft and probably a lot of other
things I don’t know about . He lives with his grandparents who say
they’re just about ready to send him to a home for boys. Interestingly,
one of the few wholesome acitivities Filipe enjoys is chess. He also
enjoys all the attention he can get. Please ask God to touch Filipe’s
heart and turn it towards Himself. ##### Thanks for praying for us and
with us. The Lord bless you this week.
--------------------------------------------------
Name: Jord Date: Wed Mar 9 06:04:26 2005
Yesterday was Austin’s 22nd birthday. It’s not too late to pray a special
birthday blessing for her, though she seemed content enough last evening
when we spoke. Vitor made her dinner. Right now, she’s at the airport
waiting for Debbie’s parent’s delayed flight. They’re here early for the
wedding so Debbie’s mom can finish Austin’s dress. Please continue to
pray that Austin stays healthy as the day approaches. ##### Monday
evening at Habitat for Humanity Braga we had our first official meeting
about sending a Global Village team to another country to build houses
for families in need. I hope to lead a team of about twelve people, both
Americans and Portuguese, to Mozambique during the first part of August,
2006. The cost will be about 1200€ ($1584), plus your air fare. Please
pray for the trip and let me know if you’d like to go. ##### In other
Habitat news, the Bairro Integrado, or Integrated Neighborhood, is a
project our affiliate has been discussing for some time. The Bairro
Integrado would house families of different incomes and descriptions,
much like urban neighborhoods everywhere. All of the houses would be
built in the traditional Habitat way, with volunteers building alongside
homeowners, but by building some more expensive homes for families with
greater means we would raise money to buy land and to help poorer
families. Carefully, prayerfully chosen families would choose to live in
the Bairro Integrado because they would all receive their homes for less
than market value and because they believe that living among different
kinds of people is enriching for everyone involved. The idea is new to
Habitat for Humanity. There are all sorts of obstacles and complications
that might prevent its ever leaving the drawing board, as you can
imagine. A motto for the project might be, “God can’t work miracles
unless we ask.” Another might be, “Help us change the world one
relationship at a time.” Please ask God to give us wisdom and creativity.
##### Thank you for praying for us. The Lord bless you this week.
--------------------------------------------------
Name: debk Date: Thu Mar 17 07:10:50 2005
Hello, dear friends and family. Jord asked me to post a brief update
regarding the wedding. Austin and Vitor have done a fabulous job and
things seem to be beautifully organized. (Yesterday I called Austin to
ask if there was anything I could do to help and she said, "Um, no,
not really... in fact, right now I'm laying out in the sun at Casa
Joaquina.") So thank you for your prayers. And please don't
stop! Please continue to pray for peace and health for Austin and Vitor,
as well as safe travels and a good visit for those who are journeying
around the world to honor us and our daughter on her special day. #####
We love you all and are keenly aware of those of you who will only be
joining us in spirit. Having missed two very special weddings myself in
the past 3 years, I know that you will in fact be thinking and praying
for us on the 26th. Thank you. Very much.
--------------------------------------------------
Name: Jord Date: Sun Mar 20 15:21:12 2005
“Who gives this bride to be married?” “Are you talkin’ to me? Gives her?!
Who said anything about giving her?! I want my daughter to stay home with
me!!” Humperdink awoke with a start. It was ten days to the wedding, the
king still lived, but Humperdink’s dreams were growing steadily worse.
##### Of course I’m only joking. I’m fine. It’s true I’ve cried at every
wedding I’ve happened upon since Austin was born. It’s true I have a
history of losing consciousness in some stressful situations, but hardly
all. Really, I’m sure I’ll keep breathing through the whole thing. I just
won’t think about it. Let’s talk about something else. But you can pray
for the remaining wedding preparations, that everyone involved would be
blessed and God would be glorified. ##### Please pray for Debbie’s Dad
who is suffering great pain from a pinched nerve in his arm. Debbie’s
going to try to get him to a doctor in Lisbon tomorrow. ##### Teaching
the Portuguese to speak English is a priority of the new Portuguese Prime
Minister, José Sócrates. At the suggestion of Senhor Silva, one of the
principals of our men’s group that hikes to the top of Bom Jesus each
morning, I’ve begun teaching the group English using the Bible. I print
out a Bible verse each day in Portuguese and English and we study it,
linguistically and spiritually. Please pray the word of God takes root
and bears fruit in all our lives. ##### Thank you for praying for us.
Blessed Easter. Don’t forget, “We were buried with Jesus through baptism
into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through
the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life,” (Romans 6:4).
--------------------------------------------------
Name: Jord Date: Sun Apr 3 06:29:44 2005
The Quinta, or little farm, where Austin and Vitor were married last
Saturday centers around a series of small low whitewashed red-tile-roofed
buildings, connected by gravel walkways, sheltered by friendly trees and
bordered by manicured lawns and gardens. More than once the guests had to
run for cover from rain, but sunshine prevailed most of the afternoon and
the variegated sky only reflected the variegations in the international
crowd. The wedding was here, rather than in a church, because Protestant
churches in Portugal are still prevented by law from looking like
churches, so Austin and Vitor’s respective church facilities appear
better suited for grocery shopping or band practice than for weddings.
##### A couple of decades ago a television commercial showed a group of
fellows drinking beer in the woods. One proclaimed, “It doesn’t get any
better than this.” I enjoy an occasional beer in the woods as much as
anyone, but even two decades ago I could tell those fellows were
mistaken. The Bible says we’re unlikely to find any greater joy than
seeing our children walking in the truth.* In other words, it really
doesn’t get any better than it got for Debbie and me last weekend, seeing
our firstborn marry a man of faith. “I had planned to tell you how much I
love Vitor,” Austin told the gathered friends and relatives, “but instead
I’m going to tell you how much Vitor loves God.” She went on to explain
that she can put her confidence in Vitor because Vitor puts his
confidence in Jesus. Austin and Vitor have a lot of work ahead of them,
but they have chosen a sure foundation upon which to build their
marriage. ##### Even aside from the quinta and the language, it is
unlikely you would have mistaken this wedding for a wedding in America.
We started an hour and a half late, which is actually unusually punctual
for a Portuguese wedding. In the past, calendars rather than clocks were
used to approximate the beginning of the processional. We hadn’t
rehearsed, so just before we started down the aisle the pastor asked me
whether I wanted to be asked who was giving away the bride. I had to
confirm with a passerby how to say, “Her mother, her brother and I,” in
Portuguese. When it came time for the children’s story, we had to try
different locations for the drawing board for greatest visibility. Some
guests said later they enjoyed the ceremony’s unhurried pace. Then there
was the food. Even though I had been a party to the pre-wedding catering
discussions I was astonished, though perhaps I should not have been. In
Portuguese homes the food keeps coming and coming. Apparently, at
Portuguese weddings, it keeps coming and coming and coming and coming. It
was dizzying. It would have been nice to stay a week to do it justice. It
remains a mystery how the Portuguese eat so much and stay so trim. #####
Austin and Vitor are honeymooning on the Portuguese island of Madeira,
from which Austin’s ancestors were exiled for reading their Bibles a
century and a half ago and where Drex prayed to receive Jesus as his
savior and took his first communion in the summer of 2000. This is
Vitor’s first visit. Please pray for them, for their health and happiness
and their following hard after God. ##### Please also continue to pray
for Debbie's dad, who just barely made it through the wedding, so
great was the pain radiating from his neck to his right fingertips, and
who is due to see a neurosurgeon in Seattle tomorrow. ##### Thank you for
your prayers. Blessed week to you.
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Name: Jord Date: Sun Apr 10 15:44:47 2005
In order to make these prayer and praise updates easier to navigate and
in order to facilitate the inclusion of pictures, I'm moving to
decapolistelling.blogspot.com. See ya there.
