Back to Where it All Started

My Brazilian adventure started on August 31, 2002, in a beautiful city called Manaus. My parents moved to Brazil as missionaries in 2001, and I was born a year later, probably by accident, but my Mom would never admit that. With seven kids, a couple are bound to be accidents. I came into this world pale, big-lipped, and blue-eyed—a stark contrast to the other Brazilian babies in that maternity ward. I don’t remember much about Brazil during the first five years of my life, mostly bits and pieces, flashes of memories like throwing mud balls at passing cars with my siblings (got in big trouble for that), getting clotheslined by a clothesline while playing soccer, and hitting my head on the concrete curbs that surrounded our fruit trees while playing outside. I hit my head quite often as a kid for some unknown reason. It explains a lot, I guess. Also, I have no idea why we had concrete curbs surrounding some of our trees- terrible idea. There are some subconscious aspects of Brazil that are baked into me today. My favorite cuisine is Brazilian food, and the meal that brings me the most comfort is Brazilian beans, rice, and chicken with farofa, which is very different from the beans, rice, and chicken you find in America. One of my favorites is unsweetened acai juice, which I have been told is a very Manauara (someone from Manuas) thing to like unsweetened. The prevalent thunderstorms in Manaus bring me great comfort, and I sleep through them like a baby. I have memories of going to school in Alabama and all my friends telling me they woke up to a thunderstorm in the middle of the night while I was fast asleep. The thin metal and terracotta roofs make me feel as if I am wrapped in the storm- as if it is in the room. I had an incredible first five years of my life. I was born in paradise. In a massive city in the middle of a massive rainforest. I can imagine the Lord holding my little five-year-old hand and thinking to Himself, “My little son, your story is far from over in Brazil”.

My family left Brazil in 2007 and didn’t come back until 2015. Once a five-year-old in Brazil, now thirteen. In the week we were in Manaus, I realized I had a profound love for Brazil. The love emerged out of my subconscious like a submarine does from the depths. I knew after that week I was going to live there at some point in my life beyond just weekly trips. I felt too much love for it. I remember I would daydream about my future in Brazil and even thought about going to college there. The first time the Lord placed a vision on my heart concerning Brazil was a couple of years after the trip, while I was in my early high school years. I was at a church camp when the pastor told us to look up at the American flag and pray for America. I remember looking up, and in my mind's eye, the Lord replacing the American flag with a Brazilian one. This was a bread crumb of prophecy. I was young when this happened, so I didn’t think much about it. After a couple of years, I eventually just thought of the daydreams of Brazil as what they were, daydreams. I did not see them as visions. I was going off to college, and this was the beginning of a new chapter. I left no room for Brazil to be written in. The love and dream that Brazil would be in my future submerged back into my subconscious, back into the depths.

We came back to Manaus eight years later in the summer of 2023 while I was in college, and everything I had realized in 2015 resurfaced. Our close family friend, Pastor Davino, kept making jokes that I was going to become his white American son in Brazil, and I just shrugged off the jokes because even though my love for the country was rekindled. I wasn’t ready to uproot my entire life and move. (By the way when I say “jokes” he would say it in a joking way but everyone knew he meant it.) This was another bread crumb of prophecy, but I did not see it as that at the time. I had my own plans back home and a girlfriend I had just met a couple of months prior. I felt useless during that mission trip because I couldn’t speak the language, nor was I a chiropractor, and free clinics were the core part of the trip. So ultimately, I just kind of sat around the entire time. I also hated not being able to understand all the great conversations my parents and older siblings were having without me. I went home with the mission to become more useful the next time I came back to Brazil. I started taking Portuguese classes, but they only lasted about a month. I was lazy, and Brazil was the last of my priorities at the time. While I was in college, I had fallen away from the Lord, to put it lightly, so my will was far from His. He was shouting at me at the time, and I could not hear Him or seem to listen to Him. He could have been calling me to go to Brazil. Now that I think about it, he probably was. In fact, my girlfriend at the time raised the question of whether I wanted to move there when I spoke to her one night while on the trip. Nevertheless, as the years went by, I went off to college and forgot all the bread crumbs the Lord had laid out. For all the love I had for Brazil, He had a massive amount of work to do in me before I would be called again with ears to hear and a heart to obey.

The Lord decided He was going to transform my life during the summer of 2024 by taking me to a beautiful little town tucked into the mountains of Northern California called Etna, with a population of about 700. On the outskirts of this town is JH Ranch. A place where “revival happens every week,” as Cal puts it. That’s an understatement, but I do not have the words or time to adequately describe the Ranch. The most transformative three months I will ever have in my life. I came to the Ranch like a broken-down car with three flat tires and steam bursting out of the radiator, with a small amount of fuel in the tank consisting of desperation and a wavering confidence that this is where I needed to be. In other words, I was struggling at the time. I left the Ranch 3 months later knowing I am still that broken-down car compared to Jesus, but I had something different in the gas tank. It was a new heart, one that desperately wanted to do the will of the Father and was greedy for His love. I also learned how to practically walk out my heart transformation thanks to all the incredible knowledge I gleaned from the wonderful people at the Ranch. Between my summer at the Ranch and two beautiful months at Scott River Lodge, I ultimately came back home with a firm foundation and a new calling. Late June, the Lord called me back to Brazil while I was on my little quiet time bridge. My mind was on Brazil, and I heard God give me an inaudible, firm “Go.” I woke up the next morning and asked him again, “Do you really want me to go to Brazil?” and He said, “Go.” I woke up the third morning and asked him the same thing, “Do you really want me to go to Brazil?” He said, “Go,” so I told Him, “ok I’ll go,” and immediately I felt the Holy Spirit come upon me in the first confirmation. I was not surprised when He called me, but I felt joy, ecstasy, fear, anticipation, anxiety, relief, and more all in one moment. I started bawling like a baby. I have found in my relatively short life that the Lord never leads me to regret obedience and always leads me to regret disobedience. His presence becomes more tangible in the midst of obedience. I had broken up with my girlfriend of over a year, I intended to marry her, a month before the Lord called me to go to Brazil. I am so glad I obeyed the Lord when he told me to do so, and I am so glad I obeyed Him by coming to Brazil. If I had not done those two things, I would not be in the place the Lord wants me to be, which is scary if you think about it. I contacted my extremely important and impactful Brazilian aunty Marilia. She started working for my parents at 17 when they moved to Brazil and has seen me grow up during my time in Brazil and through her trips to America. She is family to my family, and without her, I’m not sure I would still be in Brazil after these 6 months. So thank you Marilia. She got in contact with Pastor Davino, the same one who made those jokes about me becoming his American son, and I got my second and third spiritual confirmations during this time. The second was a voice message I got from Pastor Davino saying,  “The doors to my house and church are open to you,” which represents him perfectly. As soon as I heard this message, I felt the Holy Spirit come upon me again. I bawled again. The third confirmation was while I was in talks with Neto, Pastor Davino’s son. He told me that God sending me is an answer to their prayers. So here I was, exactly a year after the mission trip, creating plans to move into the home of the pastor who kept on telling me I needed to move to Brazil and live with his family. (I only realized it was exactly a year after the mission trip while writing this.) I called my family the following week, and everyone was incredibly reaffirming and supportive. Conveniently, my Brazilian passport expired in January 2025, so I got to spend the holidays with my family before I left, which was a wonderful blessing. God is so GOOD.

After the Ranch and Scott River Lodge, I spent the next two months preparing for my move. I was inspired by the story of Jesus and the infamous young rich man in the gospel of Matthew 19:16-30. The young rich man could not cast aside his earthly possessions to follow the one who would ultimately sacrifice his life for the young rich man. He stood face to face with the one who has authority over all and pretty much told Him the earthly possessions that will fade are too important to give up. It is hard for me to wrap my head around the young rich man’s response, but then I realized I am no better. None of us are. I may not have looked Jesus in the eyes before and told him no, but I have told Him no, knowing he sacrificed all for me. The young rich man did not know Jesus would die for him at that moment, so I have no room to cast judgment. I can imagine he regretted that decision. Jesus follows up that interaction with a stark warning in Matthew 19: 23-24, ‘“Truly, I say to you, only with difficulty will a rich person enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.”’ Now, just to be clear, Jesus is not saying it is impossible for rich people to go to heaven. If he were, then a lot of people in America would be going to Hell because the vast majority of Americans are rich compared to the rest of the world. In verse 26, Jesus says, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” Jesus is saying it is impossible for a rich person to go to Heaven without God. This is obvious because it is impossible for anybody to go to Heaven without God. In the first part of the story, Jesus is telling us that the expectation is higher than just being morally upstanding. Following the Lord’s commandments is great, but the Lord wants more. He is a jealous God. He wants all of me. If life were a poker game and the Lord were the dealer, He would tell me to go all in during my first action before the flop. Sure, I get to look at my cards, but they don’t matter. My strategy doesn’t change no matter what hand I’m dealt. Surrendering everything is the hard part in this scenario, but the most valuable thing we can offer the Lord is ourselves. A surrendered life is much more valuable to the Lord than all the wealth on this planet combined. It will all turn to dust. Even the diamonds. The more the Lord frees me from things of the world, the more value I bring to his kingdom, and the more I can maximize the return on investment that the Lord made through His son. Not in the sense that my life is more valuable than someone else's, but in the sense that I become a more valuable tool for the Lord. A tool that can be wielded at any moment according to the will of the Father. The Lord loves us all equally, but it is crystal clear He uses some more than others, which is not by happenstance. I love this quote from pastor Chris Hodges of the Highlands, “The Lord has favorites and we can choose to be one”. If I am a slave burdened by worldly things, I am like an old concrete shovel. I was created to dig, but now I’m stuck as a concrete shovel. My point is blunted by concrete that I just can’t seem to shake off, no matter what material my head gets put through. I can’t hold as much material as well because the stuck on concrete takes up space. My head is heavier than it should be, so it becomes more tiresome for the wielder to use me. Ultimately, I hold less compared to a clean shovel, and it requires more energy to do less work. This is how I think the Lord feels about us. Not that He gets tired, but that He takes the path of least resistance and only uses those who are willing to be used. (Matthew 10:14)  The Lord comes a long and He asks the shovel or me, “I have a hammer here and all it takes is a good smack and all the built up concrete can start to fall off.” The rich man had built up concrete on his shovel head in the form of possessions and when Jesus offered to take it from him he said no. The rich man saw it as a burden when it was the path to true freedom. For me, I was extremely hardened by the years of concrete that got built up during college. So it has taken many smacks to make me more usable. It will take many more to continue to maximize the opportunity the cross has given me, but when we truly encounter the living God, when the one who created the stars and the sand smacks us, it is like a Mack truck, and the concrete can’t help but just break right off. The enemy has to flee! So now the smacks are a lot more gentle, and my new habits make it so that I give the Lord room to clean me before the concrete hardens. Maybe one day this will be all I need. Just a little water to keep me clean after every use. This requires me to come before Him on my knees in repentance. Lord, I am sorry for allowing the concrete to harden over my heart. Humble me, smack my heart free of this, clean me with the pure water of the Holy Spirit, wash me of this sin before it hardens on my heart. Don’t forget, there is a second part that is just as important. Jesus is warning those who have been blessed with riches. Those who are rich are playing with fire or concrete. Without the Lord on your side, you will be consumed by it. It will harden over your heart and prevent the Lord from using you. It will make you resistant to his smacks, and no amount of cleaning will do anything unless you invite the Father in when He tells you to release yourself of worldly burdens. Sometimes the Lord allows life to smack us, but I have come to realize I would rather the smack come from a moment with the Lord. I’m not saying we should fear or run from riches; the Lord is greater than anything the enemy might try to use against us. I am only saying I must be prepared to give it ALL away at any moment, no matter what the Lord blesses me with. It is His anyway. Job is a story that strikes the Fear of the Lord into my heart. I must be continually preparing myself to go through a trial of that equivalence at any moment. Boy am I far from it, but that is my plum line. Also, I would like to point out that this message goes beyond just our American perspective of the rich. There are plenty of people in this world who are “poor” yet spend their money foolishly because their priorities are out of whack. This parable, combined with any verse concerning God’s provision (my favorite is Malachi 3:10-12) lays the foundation of truth that should ultimately determine the principle by which we perceive everything through. It starts with faith that the Lord is my only provider, and I cannot allow worldly possessions to come between Him and me. Whether I am as blessed as King Solomon or as unblessed as Job, my faith will not change.  Otherwise, I might be stuck in Hell trying to fit a camel through the eye of a needle for eternity.

Faith without works is dead (James 2:17). In fact, it is not true faith unless there is the fruit of works to support it. Luckily, God turns what the enemy meant for evil into good. So 2000 years after that interaction took place, I learned what not to do from the young rich man and what to do from Jesus. I decided to give away or sell most of my belongings of value and donate the money I got from what I did sell. This included my beautiful, dented, and a little rusty 2007 Mercury Grand Marquis. My goal was to take everything I owned to Brazil in two checked bags, a carry-on, and a personal item, and I did. (This included gifts for Brazilians) I honestly think every believer should find the opportunity to do this at least once in their life. Every believer whom I know, including my parents, that has done this has reaped incredible fruit, so it didn’t require that much faith out of me. There is a reason Jesus and the apostles lived simply. So they wouldn’t be attached to anything, and doing the will of the Father was made that much easier. I may not be attached to the things I own, but regardless, those things can still weigh me down in the pursuit of maximizing my value for the kingdom.  Even if Jesus were a rich man and had many things, He would be willing to give it all away at any moment. The only way I could prove to myself that I’m willing to do that- is to do it. It is a practical way to walk out two principles that are incredibly important to God. Also, this was practice for the future when God asks me to sacrifice bigger things. So once I got rid of my stuff, it was on to Brazil.

The red dot to the left of the flight path is Manaus.

I left to fly out of Atlanta on January 16^th at 10:00 am, and I wouldn’t arrive in Manaus until 10:00 am the next morning, so 24 hours of traveling for this big boy… Horayyy! I had a ten-hour flight from Atlanta to São Paulo, which is actually 1,700 miles south of Manaus, and the flight path ended up traveling less than 400 miles east of Manaus. The ticket would have almost been double if I had flown straight to Manaus, even though I am going an extra 2,400 miles. (the distance from LA to New York by plane) To roughly put this into perspective, it would be like flying out of New York to get to Chicago, and it being cheaper to fly to LA first, except the distance from New York to LA is 4,700 miles in this scenario… absolutely nuts. Manaus has 2.5 million people in the metro area. It is about the same size as Chicago. It would be more understandable if it were a small city, but that is not the case. When I arrived at São Paulo airport, I had two hours to get to my connecting gate. That is plenty of time right… right? I quickly realized it was absolutely the worst-designed airport that I’ve ever been to, and it didn’t help that I couldn’t read one sign or ask anybody for help. I don’t remember much about the airport because it was so big, crazy, and overstimulating. The first problem happened when it took longer than I anticipated to get my bag because they didn’t send one of my checked bags to the carousel, so I had to go search for it. Luckily, I found someone who spoke broken English and led me to the right spot. That’s another thing, just because someone says they speak English, DOES NOT mean they speak English. Once I got my bags, I had to exit the airport and then turn around and go back through security and everything. Just imagine a tall pale gringo carrying two massive bags, one that weighs 75 pounds and another that weighs 50 pounds, while trying to push my carry-on around. Not to mention there wasn’t any a/c in most of the airport while it was summer in São Paulo at the time. It may have been an airport but for all I know, I was the lead actor in a war movie carrying wounded men to the medic. One where the main character doesn’t speak the language of the medic he’s taking the men to. Finally, I arrive at the check-in desk. I had not anticipated having to re-check my bags after I checked them the first time in Atlanta, so this was a happy little surprise. I sat in line for 15 minutes before someone came over to me and told me I was in the wrong line, even though I was put in that line specifically by a different employee. I finally get my bags checked, and I head to my terminal. About 45 minutes to an hour have passed by now. This is when things really started to get crazy. If you have been to the Atlanta airport, you notice that it is a huge airport that feels relatively small, or at least it does not feel nearly as big as it is. Atlanta Airport is an example of an airport that is designed to get as many people as possible in and out. (São Paulo airport is not one of these airports) You have the international and national wings. Then you typically take a tram to the terminal, where your gate is pretty close. I have full confidence I could navigate the Atlanta airport without knowing a lick of English. Now imagine a massive airport similar to Atlanta (São Paulo metro population is about 23 million) except there isn’t an explicit international and national wings, each terminal is its own airport, and there’s no tram. It has its own parking, security, and check-in. In between each terminal is literally a mini mall. I felt like I was in Narnia. One moment I was in an airport, the next in a mall, and then the next moment I was in a completely different airport. Bear in mind, this version of Narnia isn’t written in English. I finally arrive at the terminal I am supposed to be in after doing this two times. I didn’t realize this at the time, but I had to cross the entire airport. I arrived at one end of the airport and departed from the opposite end. So another 30 minutes have passed, and I have 30 minutes to go through security and get to my gate. At this point, I had already concluded I wasn’t going to make it. I had brought plain protein powder, creatine, and salt (don’t ask me why). Two of those things look exactly like cocaine, so I was sure I was going to get pulled aside. You know, since I’m in a country that produces a lot of cocaine. They had pulled me aside in the Atlanta airport as well to test everything. I get waved on through to my surprise. Suffice to say, I now do not have much confidence in the São Paulo airport security. I got to my gate at takeoff time, but I had forgotten a very important aspect of Brazil. Nothing runs on time. I ended up waiting another 30 minutes to board. I am including this story because it is a great example of what it is like to live in Brazil, and it involves the first thing the Lord wanted to work on me in Brazil- patience.  I will go into further detail with more examples in the next blog, but for continuity and length purposes, I wanted to leave this example in this blog.

The first week I got to Brazil, my Brazilian mother Donna Ionde told my American mom and me that she had a dream in which she was pregnant. She is much too old to bear children now, but in this dream she had the baby. When it came out, it was fully grown, white, with red hair. She asked God what this dream meant. Her answer came a month later when Neto, my Brazilian brother, told her I was coming. (My beard comes in red for some reason) After three weeks in Brazil, I was talking to my Brazilian sister Sofia when she told me the jokes that Pastor Davino was making during the 2023 trip were the same jokes he was making in the 2015 trip. Two more crumbs of prophecy that were revealed to me. The Lord cracks me up sometimes with His prophecy. He does not move without telling someone beforehand.

During this entire process, from the moment I left my house in America to the moment I arrived at my new home in Brazil, I remained calm and composed internally. Yes, some parts were stressful and overstimulating, but it didn’t affect me. I was steady. This is what life is like with the Lord. I find that I am so confident and at peace when I am connected to the source. I got this from Bruce and one of his many ranchisms while I was there. “Happiness is determined by what is happening, while joy is the deep-rooted confidence that the Lord is in control.” This principle is simple. If I am not in a place of joy, then I am doing something wrong or my heart is in the wrong place. The Lord promises me joy, so I will take him at his word. (Nehemiah 8:10) It is like a cheat code when I am living with true joy. I do not play the game of life by the same rules as others. I can function beyond the boundaries of the game. What affects other players does not affect me. The circumstance may be stressful and overwhelming, but I can always fall back on my confidence, the Lord. Now this was an example of a stressor in which I was proud of the way I handled it. It was also a relatively easy stressor for me. I have traveled a significant amount in my life and done so by myself. At its core, this was similar to other experiences, so the stressors were just the new things I faced amid an experience I’ve had already- traveling by myself. I hope that I haven’t come across as boastful or arrogant in this first blog. I am a bumbling mess without the Lord's help, so it is all Him. In the next blog, I will go over what my first 6 months have been like in Brazil, and I can say without a doubt that I have not been proud of my response at all. It has been a trial that is unlike anything I have faced.