Huh, 'Ne.

Apparently, this blog "is a bit too much "all about me".

That makes sense.

It's about my life. But I'll spare you tonight, at least, for the next few minutes. Because people that talk about themselves all the time are, in Brazilian terms, "chato." So for the rest of this post, the words "I," "my," and "me" will not appear. Not once. After all, I would like repeat visitors. And not to chase away my friends...(though any comments inflating my ego and/or in support of the content of the past few posts/months/year would be greatly appreciated and valued and perhaps even framed.)

* * * * *

Five stars. That's how many times Brazil has won the world cup and are proudly displayed on shirts around the community, spraypainted on the walls, and shellacked (or shellaced, depending on how you choose your grammar rules) on yellow, blue and green manicures. The United States suffered a painful defeat today against the Czech Republic...what predictable sadness. :(

The Tenessee Baptists came to town, busloads full of fresh faces and southern accents. Little children running alongside of the buses full of Americans today shout out "Merry Christmas" for no apparent reason...maybe because they were sporting new shiny smiles thanks to nasty fluoride trays, new toothbrushes, and several very handsome Tennessee dentists with their blond assistants and frazzled translators. Dental work may have been slightly less traumatic for the non-medically trained-the woman translating for the "surgery" room was a bit gray afterwards. Something about lancing boils...and at least one of the doctors was fed-up with writing prescriptions and went running around looking for, if not surgeries he could perform, at least wounds to bandage or a novel tropical disease to diagnose. Hundreds of people came through the doors...received a hug or a touch or a word of encouragement. Everyone got to meet with a Christ to serve...or be served by. There will be some new prayers being prayed tonight. Some for thanksgiving, as eyes are seeing details for the first time thanks to snazzy new glasses, others because body lice or ear infections or worm infestations are being treated with little medical miracles. Some are praying because their eyes were opened or their ears were unstopped, or because God touched their hearts in an unexpected way. And at least 60 of them will be back tomorrow, American doctors and nurses and dentists and evangelists and their Brazilian translators (with the exception of this author, who is American, at least in nationality!) in their scrubs and garden clogs, ready to dispense some more prescriptions and a lot more holy love.

Praise the Lord.