The dirt roads were busy with chaotic activity that was very organized. I know- what a contrary statement.
It is true though.
On the surface the favela (Brazilian slum) I was in seemed extremely chaotic. People were staggering in the roads, stray dogs barking and growling as if they were possessed, little children crying and adults shouting. I even noticed a few guys digging a deep hole in the road. They had busted through a thick layer of dirt and now they were hammering through old asphalt. They had progressed about 5 feet in depth. I have no idea why they were burrowing in the earth, and I am not convinced they did either.
The ambiance was seemingly utter disorder.
I was told it was too dangerous to take any pictures. Being a good missionary- I risked two quick snaps with my phone.
Where was the organization?
Children in this slum are assigned strategic rooftop locations to lookout for police. They warn those dealing drugs or involved in other crimes that the police are coming.
There seems to be an unwritten, unspoken rule with those that roam these streets. The sober ones seem very aware of everything that is happening around them. We received plenty of looks from these people. Most weren’t the friendly, welcoming looks I have become accustomed to receiving in this mostly welcoming nation. These stares aren’t ones of curiosity. I sensed the persistent gaze of these were more of a warning than a welcome. The rule seemed to be that the welcome mat was not present, nor would it ever be.
My spirit instantly became bold and yet very cautious. I knew I was at the exact place I needed to be and the timing was perfect. For what I was not sure, but know this; my spirit man was anticipating a mighty move of God.
About 50 feet from where we were surveying the land for a future outreach, 4 police officers in a SUV sped up and bolted from their vehicle. They pumped their shotguns, quickly pounced on a guy and had him against a brick wall in seconds. It was so quick! I didn’t even know the guy was walking near us.
They were searching him for drugs and other contraband. One officer questioned and searched the man while the other 3 officers stood guard and had their weapons ready to go. This was serious business and the people of the favela continued as if nothing even happened. I pondered how many times this must happen per day.
I wondered what happened to the child lookout and worse yet, what was going to happen to the child lookout after the police left. I will be praying for this child.
While this was going on, we were approached by a drunkard. A man that was probably in his 40’s but the abusive path he was on had him looking about 60. He stared intently into our eyes. He wanted prayer. Today was going to be a monumental day in his life.
I was with two pastor friends and two young men that were in this favela for the first time. The Holy Spirit quickened me not to say a word. If this guy or those around me heard my horrible Portuguese or strong accent we would be targeted for sure. One of the Brazilian Pastors began to minister to him. This drunkard named Pedro wanted to be free. We laid hands on him and declared his deliverance. He accepted Christ as his Lord that day. His eyes became clear and he was a little confused by his instant sobriety. God had delivered him.
All this went on while we had 3 armed police officers less than half a block from us watching. They unknowingly played a huge part in the liberation of Pedro. It was as if they were angels on assignment. Actually, we were the ones on assignment.
Be praying for Pedro and our new outreach. We begin June 6th and I expect Pedro to be one of our greatest supporters.
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