<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836</id><updated>2011-07-29T02:09:25.901-05:00</updated><category term='gift'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='Outreach during Carnival'/><title type='text'>Greg &amp; Rebecca in Brazil</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-4159390960317176169</id><published>2011-04-09T09:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-09T09:03:44.914-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Humble Yourself in the Sight of the Lord</title><content type='html'>Last night we had a couple over from church.  They have been missionaries in Brazil for most of their lives with a few years in Mozambique (forgot how to spell it in English.  Ha! Ha!  Just looked it up and it’s the same in both languages!  That’s pretty cool!)  Now, he is in charge of their mission for the entire North and South Americas and now they are pretty much global nomads, on the road all the time.  I thought it would be nice to get to know them and figured that they could use an American home-cooked meal and a dose of friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not the best cook in the world, but I do have a few things that I make well and usually serve to company.  I planned two of these for the meal (broccoli soup and homemade cream cheese crescent rolls.)  I’ve never been much of a cake baker, especially from scratch (a requirement here in Brazil.)  But since my dear husband loves pineapple upside down cake, I thought I would make a stab at it for this meal.  (How wrong could it go?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made the rolls and they turned out fine.  I made the cake and it looked just fine.  I made the soup and it was a watery mess.  They were so polite and talked of how nice the soup was.  (But ugghh, it was hideous!)  When I served the cake, I struggled to cut it (and then struggled to eat it.  It was at least half raw.)  I’ve pretty much NEVER been so humiliated by my cooking prowess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the awful food, we had a pleasant evening getting to know each other.  But this morning I’m still struggling over the miserable mess I served them and called it “dinner.”  After doing a Bible study on humility this morning, I realized that I was far too focused on the food, and not enough focused on the nice time we had with this couple.  Lord, deliver me from my own pride.  Help me to do more “trembling at your word” and less taking pride in the gifts I have been given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isa 66:2&lt;br /&gt;"This is the one I esteem:&lt;br /&gt;he who is humble and contrite in spirit,&lt;br /&gt;and trembles at my word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-4159390960317176169?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/4159390960317176169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=4159390960317176169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/4159390960317176169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/4159390960317176169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2011/04/humble-yourself-in-sight-of-lord.html' title='Humble Yourself in the Sight of the Lord'/><author><name>Rebecca Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14075967959520485998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-659186224378012937</id><published>2010-03-07T15:20:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T15:20:52.147-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Projeto Ide Fevereiro 2010.mpg</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/T9AAZWBeBLs' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/T9AAZWBeBLs'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Projeto Ide is Project Go for our church, Memorial Baptist Church.  It is an evangelical and compassion ministry that we offer in poor areas of our home town of Campinas, São Paulo.  During the day we ministered to the children and then showed the Jesus Film at night.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-659186224378012937?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/659186224378012937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=659186224378012937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/659186224378012937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/659186224378012937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2010/03/projeto-ide-fevereiro-2010mpg.html' title='Projeto Ide Fevereiro 2010.mpg'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-8372674938292228468</id><published>2009-09-26T07:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T07:30:37.831-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New life...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ybFaXTfm9Mc/Sr4JCzWXBfI/AAAAAAAAABo/lXWvgwi0VIE/s1600-h/IMG_1020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ybFaXTfm9Mc/Sr4JCzWXBfI/AAAAAAAAABo/lXWvgwi0VIE/s200/IMG_1020.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385752148130072050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last two days have been so joyful for us.  We finalized the paperwork on the house where we will be moving, and spent some good time with our friends Steve and Debra Rowe while they oriented us to our new neighborhood, Barão Geraldo.  That evening, we had a young couple over to dinner, followed by playing “Chicken Foot,” another wonderful time.  Then yesterday, after spending the morning looking for a hotel for our first short term team, we spent the afternoon helping our pastor clean up the church for the church’s anniversary party.  This may seem like something so small, but for us, it was wonderful.  We have been so starved for service.  One of the most important things was that our pastor called us up and asked us to help him.  That was so big.  That he even felt close enough to us to ask.  Thank you Lord, for friends and for our new life here in Brazil.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-8372674938292228468?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/8372674938292228468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=8372674938292228468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/8372674938292228468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/8372674938292228468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2009/09/new-life.html' title='New life...'/><author><name>Rebecca Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14075967959520485998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ybFaXTfm9Mc/Sr4JCzWXBfI/AAAAAAAAABo/lXWvgwi0VIE/s72-c/IMG_1020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-8052994420532503161</id><published>2009-05-19T05:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T06:46:17.482-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Evangelism 101</title><content type='html'>Yesterday we were taught Evangelism 101.  Around 6:00 am I went to ride my exercise bicycle.  Just a few minutes into it a lady came in and sat on the other bike and wanted to talk in English.  I don't know how they know we're Americans, but they do.  They all seem to know.  Anyway we were talking and getting to know each other, and she asked if we could get together sometime as couples.  Later that afternoon she called and invited us over for coffee, which means french rolls with meat &amp;amp; cheese, fruit, assorted sweets and, of course, coffee.  Good strong Brazilian coffee.   In other words dinner.  They knew we were missionaries so after the cultural and political discussion was more or less over, we started talking our faiths.  I assume that they were Catholics because of something Marzina said in the morning, but after a while it became clear that they were spiritists.  They believe God is in everything and that if we are only complete, we can be like God and do much of what He does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To learn more of what they believe follow this link:  http://www.spiritwritings.com/kardecspiritstoc.html.  Or look under Wikipedia for the definition of spiritists.  Brazil is the leading country for this religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine trying to talk about such a deep subject with the language capability of a 1 year old.  Rebecca understood most of what he was talking about.  I didn't have a clue.  After a interesting debate, we left under friendly terms with the goal of meeting again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we were evangelized.  Make an acquaintance, get to know them a little, invite them over, FEED THEM, have engaging discussions, then talk about God by first finding common ground and then talk about the differences.  Quite effective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to engage Edgar for more discussions.  Since spiritists believe only through understanding can one evolve, I'm quite sure he will want to get together.  It will be interesting because he will have to talk as a baby with me because of my limited Portuguese.  I will bring both my dictionaries.  It will be slow going, but I will be able to learn what they believe and hopefully, he will gain a saving understanding of Christ Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since our discussions will be a very slow process, I will be posting questions on how best to answer what he tells me.  I will be praying for discernment knowing what it says in Galatians:&lt;br /&gt;Galatians 6:1-2  Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. 2 Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-8052994420532503161?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/8052994420532503161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=8052994420532503161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/8052994420532503161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/8052994420532503161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2009/05/evangelism-101.html' title='Evangelism 101'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-6961487888049627383</id><published>2009-05-13T11:52:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T12:27:54.338-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Law Enforcement Update</title><content type='html'>In my previous post I talked about there not being traffic laws here to worry about.  I found out that there is a law against turning right on a red.  Who knew!  I didn't.  Well one day I received a letter with a picture of my car turning right on a red.  The funny thing was, our friend Diogenes was in the car with us and told me that it is against the law to turn on a red.  I am so glad the city of Campinas backed up his instructions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c3VZH0rltNI/Sgr-geipxrI/AAAAAAAAABY/IXUTdR9fhgw/s1600-h/Caught.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 217px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c3VZH0rltNI/Sgr-geipxrI/AAAAAAAAABY/IXUTdR9fhgw/s320/Caught.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335356542481450674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see I almost got around the tree before the camera got me.  And I wonder how they got my license plate number off this picture.  I think Rebecca called them just so I would be the first one to get a ticket.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-6961487888049627383?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/6961487888049627383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=6961487888049627383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/6961487888049627383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/6961487888049627383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2009/05/law-enforcement-update.html' title='Law Enforcement Update'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_c3VZH0rltNI/Sgr-geipxrI/AAAAAAAAABY/IXUTdR9fhgw/s72-c/Caught.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-3700825742297201917</id><published>2009-04-26T11:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T11:52:55.207-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gift'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>The Gift</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was my birthday.  Historically, I have always wanted much to be made of my birthday.  After all, it’s the only day of the year that’s all about me!  (I think I lack a little humility here.)  But my family always made a big deal of birthdays; no working, get to choose what’s for dinner, fine china, etc.  So when Greg and I got married, I wanted him to continue the tradition.  Bless his heart, he did.  But after coming to Brazil, we began to desperately miss our family during holidays.  So when Greg asked me what I would like to do on my birthday, I said, “Nothing.”  (Sometimes when things hurt so badly, it’s easier to act like they don’t exist rather than be disappointed by them.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as my birthday kept getting closer, he kept asking me, “What would you like to do for your birthday?”  So I finally said, “Let’s just go out to dinner.”  He said, “Would you like to invite anyone?”  I said, “No, that’s OK.”  But he wouldn’t let it go.  “How about Steve and Debra?”  “OK, they’re OK.”  But as the days kept coming, so did Greg’s questions.  “How about Sylvia and Ralf?”  I got tired of even making an attempt at dissuading him, so I said, “Yes, whatever.”  “Anyone else?  How about The Kid (Greg’s name for Alex, Steve and Debra’s son-in-law) and Krista?  And Ellie?  And our language teachers?”  (I’m thinking, “Oh dear, this is really starting to resemble a party.")  In my head I was thinking that I was just going to let him do whatever he wanted because it seemed much more important to him than it was to me.  But his questions didn’t stop.  “Where do you want to eat.”  Now we’ve been here seven months, but the reality is, other than a few snack shops or per kilo type places, we only know one restaurant and that’s Água Doce.  So I said, “How about Água Doce?”  I thought that would be the end of it but a few days later, he says again, “Where do you want to eat on your birthday?”  Once again, I said, “The only place we know is Água Doce, so let’s go there.”  A few days before my birthday, he tells me, “Marina (one of our language teachers) and I went out today and found a restaurant for your birthday and it’s going to be a surprise!”  (OK, I’ll go along with this.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day of my birthday, I was in a funk.  Jeepers, I really missed my children.  The highlight of the day was talking to my daughter on Skype for about an hour.  For the rest of the day, I just sat at the computer researching things (a bit of a hobby I guess.)  But I was getting more down by the minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 7 (remember, we’re on Brazilian time and they eat late), we took off for the restaurant.  When we arrived, it was (I have to admit) a cute little place.  When we went in, there were candles on the crisp white table cloths, live flower arrangements with roses and ivy, and a beautiful quiet ambiance.  Through the windows, you could see displays of orchids (I love flowers) growing out of tree trunks in a symmetrical pattern, and the food was FRENCH!  (I love French food.)  When we arrived, Steve, Debra and Ellie were already waiting for us,(I really love them!) and greeted me with the traditional Brazilian birthday greeting, “Parabens! (Congratulations!)”  (It was already more fun than I thought it would be!)  Soon after, Sylvia and Ralf arrived, followed by Alex and Krista.  (My heart was starting to sing.)  It wasn’t long before a mix of Portuguese and English was blended into a wonderful, laughing, conversation, and they sang me the Brazilian birthday song (which truly is a masterpiece!)  Did I mention I had salmon (my favorite food), and the food was tremendous?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the Brazilian tradition (I found out from Sylvia) to open your presents as soon as they’re handed to you.  So I did!  The present from Sylvia and Ralf was a CD of Brazilian worship music (so I will know the songs in church).  I didn’t cry (but I felt like it.  Not understanding the worship music is very hard on me.)  Steve and Debra also gave me one of their favorite CD’s.  You all know I am an earring nut.  I pride myself on being able to pick out earrings that ladies will like and that look beautiful on them.  Well, Ellie gave me the most adorable pair of earrings.  I wouldn’t have picked them of the rack, but when I put them on, they were so CUTE (and make me look good!)  I look really chique now!  Greg gave me something I’ve been wanting ever since we came to Brazil.  In Brazil, when you open plastic wrap or tin foil, the box does not have a cutter on it.  You have to cut it with a pair of scissors.  It’s a big stinking hassle.  I had been wanting this little item that you hang on the kitchen wall that holds tin foil, plastic wrap and paper towels and HAS A CUTTER on it!  That’s what Greg got me for my birthday, along with some really cute, colorful, Birkenstock type shoes with great arches that I had been eyeing in a shop on the mall!  They were wrapped beautifully, by Greg himself (believe it or not, he’s a great wrapper as well as a great gift buyer!)  To top it all off, the waiter gave us ALL dessert for free because it was my birthday!  (Steve said Greg had raised the bar for birthday celebrations!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you may wonder, what is the point of this very long birthday story?  It’s just this, everyone needs someone who loves them enough to shake them out of their self-pity, to drag them into joy.  My husband loves me that much and I am grateful.  Thank you Honey for a birthday I will never forget.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-3700825742297201917?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/3700825742297201917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=3700825742297201917' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/3700825742297201917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/3700825742297201917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2009/04/gift.html' title='The Gift'/><author><name>Rebecca Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14075967959520485998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-6912881305972845939</id><published>2009-03-21T16:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T16:52:19.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brazilian Hotdog?!</title><content type='html'>You’ve never really tasted a hotdog, until you’ve tasted a Brazilian hotdog!  Here’s what’s in them: bun, hotdog, mustard, ketchup and mayo (sounds pretty normal so far) peas, corn, mashed potatoes (in a hotdog?)  Yep, in a hotdog!  Greg swore he was never going to let a mashed potato hotdog touch his lips but tonight he ate, yes a mashed potato hotdog (he left out the peas and corn).  Hey, is what they mean when they say we’re “suffering for the Lord”?  (Well, maybe not.)  Come on down to Brazil and we’ll get you mashed potato hotdogged up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-6912881305972845939?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/6912881305972845939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=6912881305972845939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/6912881305972845939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/6912881305972845939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2009/03/brazilian-hotdog.html' title='Brazilian Hotdog?!'/><author><name>Rebecca Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14075967959520485998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-7145676219087578239</id><published>2009-03-15T14:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T14:08:50.158-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ybFaXTfm9Mc/Sb1R9Ea1AeI/AAAAAAAAABY/tYNgfcT8GmI/s1600-h/IMG_0942.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ybFaXTfm9Mc/Sb1R9Ea1AeI/AAAAAAAAABY/tYNgfcT8GmI/s200/IMG_0942.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313493244967191010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are quite a few things that I love about being a woman in Brazil.  For one thing, they like sparkly jewelry.  Not just for weddings and such, but all the time!  I love sparkly jewelry.  I’ve always felt like a cockatiel pecking at a mirror, looking at sparkly things just makes me happy.  Another thing is that no matter how old they are, many still wear their hair long.  You KNOW how I love long hair.  But one thing about Brazilian women is their love for HIGH heels.  You’ll see 70 year old women in heels so high they get nose bleeds.  On Thursday, my language school teacher Vera (a high heel aficionado) took me to the local women’s shoe store to teach me how to shop.  (No it’s not an oxymoron, I mean in Portuguese!)  I was learning to say, “Oh, those are cute!”, “They’re too small/big/tight/loose!” “I’ll take these.” and such.  After trying on about a gazillion pairs of shoes (and not a dime in my pocket), I told the saleslady (in Portuguese), “I don’t have any money, but I’ll be back!”  After language school, I told Greg (in Portuguese) “Get the scorpion out of your pocket!” (a very Brazilian phrase used to say, “Give me some money!)  We walked back to the shoe store and bought these beauties!  Just wanted to let you know that I’m officially Brazilian!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-7145676219087578239?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/7145676219087578239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=7145676219087578239' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/7145676219087578239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/7145676219087578239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2009/03/there-are-quite-few-things-that-i-love.html' title=''/><author><name>Rebecca Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14075967959520485998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ybFaXTfm9Mc/Sb1R9Ea1AeI/AAAAAAAAABY/tYNgfcT8GmI/s72-c/IMG_0942.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-4167846594199453409</id><published>2009-03-11T13:20:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T11:14:17.184-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outreach during Carnival'/><title type='text'>Outreach Into the Favelas</title><content type='html'>We had the opportunity of performing some community outreach during the Carnival holiday.   We went through the neighborhood around the church where we worked out of and we also went into a favela, (slum) that was near by.  Most of the pictures outside were of the favela.  Many people made decisions for Christ that weekend.  There is a picture of me with and older man and his wife.  He is the first person I have ever witnessed to in an evangelictic outreach.  He didn't call on the Lord, but he knows what he has to do.  The next day in the city we led a man to a saving relationship with Christ.  One great thing is he knows someone from the church we were at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also got to work with some great young adults from a church in Sao Paulo.  It was so much fun.  Brought back memories of the old life in Kingsburg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-19ae5390ddb396f5" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D19ae5390ddb396f5%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329936993%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D72FAD3CCEA620B24B6698F490A32DDCAAAAE0B0F.5C5753924D48CB8DE659364F2D2423DD1AEBE2A6%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D19ae5390ddb396f5%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9gdr9Zbv4tHFmExku1VM8RLZO5Q&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D19ae5390ddb396f5%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329936993%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D72FAD3CCEA620B24B6698F490A32DDCAAAAE0B0F.5C5753924D48CB8DE659364F2D2423DD1AEBE2A6%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D19ae5390ddb396f5%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9gdr9Zbv4tHFmExku1VM8RLZO5Q&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-4167846594199453409?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=19ae5390ddb396f5&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/4167846594199453409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=4167846594199453409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/4167846594199453409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/4167846594199453409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2009/03/we-had-opportunity-of-performing-some.html' title='Outreach Into the Favelas'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-7917582198415038983</id><published>2008-12-13T03:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T04:13:51.148-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Law Enforcement</title><content type='html'>There are few traffic cops in the city, and when you see them their lights are always flashing.  I have yet to see someone pulled over to get a ticket.  I guess that makes sense because there is no room to pull over.  The shoulder of the road is another lane.  Instead traffic violations are mailed to your home.  If your car is spotted in a crime, (no matter who is driving), you will receive the ticket, and the tickets are very costly.     Get enough tickets, you lose your license.  But if you're wealthy you need not worry.  Just pay double the fine and the points go away.  Kind of like traffic school in the States.  But there's no limit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Violations do not count against your insurance though. I don't know what makes your insurance go up.  Your insurance pays for your car if you're in an accident.  If you don't have insurance, your car doesn't get fixed.  Takes away the need for uninsured motorist.  I believe there is a hefty penalty for not having insurance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't received a ticket in the mail yet.  Beck's beginning to drive so I expect some soon.  When a speed limit is posted, it is usually slower than in the States.  If there are no cops visible to scare her into submission, I don't know what will happen.  It's a good thing there are no rules here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-7917582198415038983?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/7917582198415038983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=7917582198415038983' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/7917582198415038983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/7917582198415038983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/12/law-enforcement.html' title='Law Enforcement'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-1364854844255757888</id><published>2008-12-03T03:05:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T07:34:11.993-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving Update</title><content type='html'>I was wrong in my initial observation that there are no rules when driving in Brazil.  Rebecca's need to go shopping outweighed her fear of driving, so it was time for her to join the dance.  She drove just a few blocks and I realized there is a rule.  Somehow I incorporated it into my new driving habits with no conscious thought.  The rule is, you don't take the place of two cars to have more room around you.  They will not tolerate American size space between cars.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-1364854844255757888?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/1364854844255757888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=1364854844255757888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/1364854844255757888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/1364854844255757888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/12/driving-update.html' title='Driving Update'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-6350571407862846650</id><published>2008-12-01T05:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T05:05:54.248-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving in Brazil</title><content type='html'>Well we finally got a car, it’s a Fait Stilho.  Our need to go places finally became greater than my fear of driving.  And now we know how to get to five places; our apartment, the Rowes, the Heinrichs, our school, a shopping center, and our church.  Fortunately, all but our school is on the same route.  Thank you Lord.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest difference in driving here verses the states, is in the states we mind, or pay attention to the laws, and here we mind the drivers around us.  In the states everyone follows the laws so you know where the car next to you is probably going.  Here, if there is a space by your car, you have as much right to it as anyone and anyone has as much a right to it as you.  So if someone pulls out in front of you, you make room for him.  If someone runs a stop sign to pull in front of you, you slow down and let him in.  After all, stop signs are really just suggestions; they are more of a yield sign here.  And all this goes on without anyone getting mad.  What’s to get mad about, they have as much right to the space in front of you as you do.  I’ve seen people just stopping in the road to do whatever.  Also, there are two lane roundabouts, as I’ve heard them referred to in the states.  It is a circle where an intersection is, and you are supposed to stop and then proceed to your turn by going around this circle until you get to the direction you want to go, then make a right turn in that direction.  It’s two lanes and logic tells you that the inside lane is for going around the circle and the outside lane is to turn.  The reality is it’s a two lane turn and you turn right from either lane.  Be aware of the inside lane turns when you’re on the outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This system works well.  We live in front of a busy street and have only seen one collision.  If you are paying attention, you can really get somewhere quickly.  A taxi driver in Rio referred to learning to drive as, “learning the dance.”  It’s really true, you are dancing with those around you, except both parties lead at the same time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-6350571407862846650?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/6350571407862846650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=6350571407862846650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/6350571407862846650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/6350571407862846650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/12/driving-in-brazil.html' title='Driving in Brazil'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-2024071011924841821</id><published>2008-09-27T07:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T07:25:12.129-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Greg In Language School</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_c3VZH0rltNI/SN4mCgTXpQI/AAAAAAAAABA/jSJOv_dcb30/s1600-h/Tarzan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_c3VZH0rltNI/SN4mCgTXpQI/AAAAAAAAABA/jSJOv_dcb30/s400/Tarzan.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250676040033346818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-2024071011924841821?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/2024071011924841821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=2024071011924841821' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/2024071011924841821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/2024071011924841821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/09/greg-in-language-school.html' title='Greg In Language School'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_c3VZH0rltNI/SN4mCgTXpQI/AAAAAAAAABA/jSJOv_dcb30/s72-c/Tarzan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-3521138813401410848</id><published>2008-09-21T10:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T10:23:35.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Going to the Doctor in Brazil</title><content type='html'>As most of you know, Greg has had two episodes of pulmonary emboli.  Because of this, he is on Coumadin (an anticoagulant) for the rest of his life.  Because Coumadin is a poison (rat poison to be exact), precautions must be taken so that the levels are not too high (thus making your blood not clot enough, that’s how the rats die) or too low (then it clots too much).  He has to take a test called an INR, once a month to insure that his levels are correct.  All this is orchestrated by a physician.  So, one of the things we had to do on our arrival to Brazil was find a physician relatively quickly.&lt;br /&gt;We talked with Steve and Debra Rowe (our missionary friends) about finding a pulmonologist who could speak English.  They had seen a pulmonologist, but she could only understand English, not speak it.  Since we don’t even understand Portuguese (yet), she really didn’t fit the bill.  Then one day, their daughter Krista told us that a friend of hers at work (she teaches at the American School) is married to a cardiologist who speaks English.  She gave us his HOME PHONE NUMBER, and told us too call him at 7PM.  Maybe he could refer us to an English speaking pulmonologist.  She said his name was Fabio.  I asked her if he had long flowing golden hair but as she had never heard of the American model for love novels, she didn’t get the joke.  (Is that a problem?)&lt;br /&gt;We called Fabio at 7, but he was not home yet.  Fifteen minutes later, HE CALLED US!  When I explained the situation, he said “Well, I’m actually a vascular surgeon so I can take care of this.  If I think you need to be referred to a pulmonologist later, I will do it.”  Then, HE SET UP AN APPOINTMENT for us the following Wednesday.  He said to come about 15 minutes early as he only has office house for half a day, one day a week.  The rest of the time, he teaches at Unicamp, the local university (University of Campinas), and his schedule for the day was already full.  Before the end of the conversation, I said, “In the U.S., it’s not proper to call a physician by his first name unless you are his friend.  What is your last name?”  He replied, “Here, it is common to call a people by their first names, just call me Fabio.”  Then HE GAVE US HIS CELL PHONE NUMBER, in case we needed to ask him anything, or change the appointment!!!  (I feel like I woke up on another planet!)&lt;br /&gt;We arrived on time to our appointment.  There was a receptionist but no back office nurse.  Doutor Fabio, called us into the room, side kissed me, and spent about 45 minutes talking with Greg.  He also looked at my medications so that I could get them in the Brazilian version.  We’ve never known what exactly caused Greg’s blood to clot.  Doutor Fabio said he was going to refer us to a hematologist, who would take Greg off the Coumadin for 10 days, give him Heparin (an injectable anticoagulant) for those 10 days and then take a test to see what is wrong with his blood.  He said that Unicamp is known for their care of these types of problems and that if Greg’s problem was genetic, we could have our children tested for the same thing.  So he will be seeing a hematologist in October.&lt;br /&gt;He sent us to a place which draws your blood for Greg’s INR.  Then you can look your results up on the internet, THE NEXT DAY!  He also checked his liver function tests so that he would have baseline values to note changes.  We were very pleased with our Brazilian medical care!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-3521138813401410848?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/3521138813401410848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=3521138813401410848' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/3521138813401410848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/3521138813401410848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/09/going-to-doctor-in-brazil.html' title='Going to the Doctor in Brazil'/><author><name>Rebecca Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14075967959520485998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-2118688950802966556</id><published>2008-09-05T07:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T07:43:27.622-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Like About Brazil</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;When you enter or leave a room, you greet everyone with a hug and a one sided cheek hug/air kiss (with a nice loud smack), and everyone does it to you also (mostly ladies but some gentlemen also).  It's really fun, makes you feel all warm and fuzzy and like you're part of things even when you aren't really.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People leave their doors (without screens) open all day and shut them only in the evening when the bugs come out.  There aren't many flies so even when you eat there's not really a bug problem.  There's always lots of fresh air and it circulates throughout the house.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The people are genuinely friendly and love to laugh.  There's no arrogance if a gringa tries to say something in Portuguese and it doesn't work, just general good humor about the whole thing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Brazilians love bathrooms (as do I) and there are many of them, with cool tile floors.  In fact the tile usually goes all the way to the ceiling.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The food is amazing: crispy water bread (kind of like French bread) with flaky outsides and soft insides, yummy guava (goiabada) jam and white Minas cheese that when eaten together is called Romeo (Ho-may-ooh) e Julieta (what a romantic culture), delicious desserts, fruits, vegetables, meats and oh my, the cheese!  There is great danger that I will be huge the next time you see me!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I LIKE hanging out the wash!  It smells good, you get to go outside, feel the sun and fresh air, and the clothing feels good when you put it on.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People work hard but they also know how to relax and have fun.  Having fun doesn't depend on having something special to do, they just enjoy each other and the conversation (and ususally, eating)!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;So if your thinking about coming to Brazil to see us or on a short-term trip, be prepared for all the wonderful things you'll see and hear.  Brazil is a great country!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-2118688950802966556?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/2118688950802966556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=2118688950802966556' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/2118688950802966556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/2118688950802966556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/09/things-i-like-about-brazil.html' title='Things I Like About Brazil'/><author><name>Rebecca Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14075967959520485998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-5144760634267002323</id><published>2008-08-22T05:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T12:44:12.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving in Brasil - Part 1</title><content type='html'>I am not going to talk about my driving experience because I have not and will not, for awhile, drive in Brasil.  But here are my observations about driving.  I guess it is natural to contrast new things against what is familiar.  The thing that is similar is that people use cars to go somewhere.  The differences are:&lt;br /&gt;• Most of the cars are small.  But, there are also large trucks and buses sharing the road.&lt;br /&gt;• The roads are narrow.  What we would use as a single lane is a double, a street we would use as a double they squeeze in three.  If someone has parked on the curb the traffic would go from three lanes to two lanes to three.&lt;br /&gt;• Traffic signs, such as Para, (stop), are really just suggestions, especially after 7pm.  It seems there are no rules after that.&lt;br /&gt;• There are few patrol cars as we know them.  In town, speed is controlled by large speed bumps.  Large, bottom scraping speed bumps.  On the highways speed is controlled by cameras that are hooked up to a radar gun.  You go by too fast, it takes your picture as you drive down the road, and they mail you a ticket.  Get too many tickets and you lose your license.  &lt;br /&gt;• Order of importance in the US is pedestrian, car, motorcycle.  Here it is car, motorcycle, and then pedestrian.  Here, cars are in control, well trucks, buses, then cars, then motorcycles, followed by the invisible pedestrian.  There are many, many motorcycles and they just do their own thing, going between and around the cars.  You don’t worry about the motorcycle, it worries about you.  Pedestrians are invisible.&lt;br /&gt;• Many roads here are made of rock.  The rocks are small, about the size of a brick, but they are rocks, and are a little bumpy.  Patches in the road are numerous and uneven.  I think they are uneven or bumpy because the people who fix the roads are in a hurry because they are invisible.  &lt;br /&gt;I am still piecing together the theory of how to drive in Campinas.  That will come later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-5144760634267002323?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/5144760634267002323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=5144760634267002323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/5144760634267002323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/5144760634267002323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/08/driving-in-brasil-part-1.html' title='Driving in Brasil - Part 1'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-8088716437913145918</id><published>2008-08-20T04:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T04:30:42.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to School</title><content type='html'>To find our way, BGC Missionary Steve Rowe is going to ride the bus with us to the language school.  The school is around 10 to 15 miles from where we are living.  That morning we find out Steve has never ridden the bus in Campinas.  It was years ago when he lived in Sao Paulo that he last took the bus.  Fortunately, a couple of nights earlier Rebecca and I spent some time with Alex &amp; Krista, Steve &amp; Debra’s daughter and son-in-law, going over the route and where and when to get on and off.  Steve is grateful for the map, but has decided not to follow the instructions.&lt;br /&gt;Monday morning, with Steve:&lt;br /&gt;Like all missionaries, Steve is late.  Sunday night he told us not to worry if he was late, but we did.  We arrived at the bus stop bench to wait for the bus and met a nice fellow who we were to learn was an angel from God.  We had to wait awhile for the bus, but it finally came.  We got on a fairly empty bus and head out.  Steve explained that at the end of the trip, we will be going downhill and then the bus turn right onto the major street.  We wanted to get off there, before it turns right.  As we went downhill we saw this ESSO gas station at the end and decided when we saw the gas station we would pull the cord that tells the driver we want off.  It all worked well and we found our way to the school after a five to ten minute walk.  After two hours of school we left to find the bus stop that we would use to return “home”.  We finally found it after a 10 to 15 minute walk.  This bus was really crowded, and we had to stand for the 25 minute trip.  It is really a wild ride and you have to hold on for dear life.  When Steve pulled the cord to stop at the next stop the driver stopped right away instead of going to the next stop.  We got off anyway, and looked around and wondered where we were.  We, (Steve), finally figured it out, and after a very long walk we got home.  Missed lunch!  But of course Silvia cooked another one.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday Morning, Solo:&lt;br /&gt;Rebecca and I felt real good because we took off at the right time.  Found the bus stop and said Bom Dia to our guardian angel.  We tried to find out how to say receipt in Portuguese, but he couldn’t understand what we were saying.  The bus came, but this time the bus was packed with people, and we had to stand once again.  We have these large school binders on shoulder straps swinging from our shoulders, and as we go on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, they are swinging around hitting the people sitting.  Rebecca can’t help herself and laughs about this and about almost falling over.  I had to point out that no one else is laughing.  But we’re going and we’re on the right bus.  We find out that it is very hard to see where you’re going when you are standing up.  You can’t crunch down to look because this bus is packed.  But I thought it will be alright because I can still see around 30 yards in front of the bus looking for the ESSO gas station.  Then we simply pull the cord to tell the bus driver we want to get off.  We start going down the hill into the down town area and come up behind another bus.  I can now only see the bus in front of us.  How am I going to see the ESSO station?  I start getting a little concerned.  Then Rebecca informs me there is no cord to pull to alert the bus driver we want to get off.  I start watching what the other people are doing.  They’re doing nothing.  Now I’m really concerned.  We were down town, in a very busy down town I might add, and had no idea where we were.  It must have been obvious because our Angel sort of asks or mimes if we know where we want to get off.  We said yes because even if we couldn’t see it, we knew where to get off.  After a couple of minutes of motioning to him that there is no cord to pull, he showed us the buttons on the rail poles to push.  Rebecca now says she thinks she remembers that Honda dealership we just passed and we could be close.  The bus came to a stop and the doors opened up.  We were close to the doors and I just felt this incredible urge to jump, so I told Rebecca, “let’s get off now”.  Well the bus drove away and there on the other side of the street was the ESSO station.  Just like in a movie.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got back with no problems, other than our binders swinging around.  We went to the store to buy back packs to hold our binders.  Rebecca said she didn’t want one and I had to remind her it was her binder doing the most damage.  Now we’re back packed up and ready for day three.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-8088716437913145918?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/8088716437913145918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=8088716437913145918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/8088716437913145918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/8088716437913145918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/08/back-to-school.html' title='Back to School'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-7967943596242628364</id><published>2008-08-12T05:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T05:30:47.799-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Balance</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin-top:0in; 	mso-para-margin-right:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0in; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We have been here 3 days now.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wish I could say I feel at home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I just don't feel balanced here.  I just read in my devotions that God takes pleasure in Himself and enjoys His own perfection.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(Attributes of God; Tozer).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;If this is where God wants me it is the perfect place for Rebecca and me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Perfect but unbalanced.  Is that possible?  Things are the same and things are different here:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are cars&lt;span style=""&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;But they are all small&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are roads&lt;span style=""&gt;              &lt;/span&gt;But they are narrow and bumpy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are birds&lt;span style=""&gt;               &lt;/span&gt;But they sing jungle songs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is electricity&lt;span style=""&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;But it comes from a different jack&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is speaking&lt;span style=""&gt;           &lt;/span&gt;But I don’t understand it&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are toilets&lt;span style=""&gt;             &lt;/span&gt;But don’t put the paper down it&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is water&lt;span style=""&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;But you don’t drink it out of the tap&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is money&lt;span style=""&gt;               &lt;/span&gt;But it’s not easily recognizable&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are homes&lt;span style=""&gt;             &lt;/span&gt;But they are all behind walls and gates&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are beds&lt;span style=""&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;But they are not king size&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are stores&lt;span style=""&gt;              &lt;/span&gt;But I don’t know what’s in the packages&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are floors&lt;span style=""&gt;              &lt;/span&gt;But they are all tile&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are stop signs&lt;span style=""&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;But they are more of a suggestion&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is milk&lt;span style=""&gt;                  &lt;/span&gt;But it comes in a unrefrigerated box&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is fruit&lt;span style=""&gt;                  &lt;/span&gt;But the flavor is explosive&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is God&lt;span style=""&gt;                   &lt;/span&gt;And He is loved and worshipped &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;                                &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I guess I need to focus on the unchanging God of the universe.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The One who is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The One who is the same in Kingsburg and Campinas.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The One who is perfect here and there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The One who wants me here.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can find my balance there, with Him.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-7967943596242628364?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/7967943596242628364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=7967943596242628364' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/7967943596242628364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/7967943596242628364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/08/balance.html' title='Balance'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-4160117172989091582</id><published>2008-08-10T07:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T09:30:40.720-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dawn</title><content type='html'>August 8th and 9th, Friday and Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;The day we left and the day we arrived.  They are really one day to us if you look at a day as you're up then you sleep.  The most painful day in our lives.  So much emotion.  The more exhausted you are the more your emotions have their way:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Holding on to my family in big hugs to say good-bye.  These hugs were too long and not near long enough.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The flight.  Spending 12 hours in a space that was created to cramp a person who is 5' 10" when your 6' 5".  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Worrying about if my "stuff" was going to arrive with me in Brazil.  God was gracious to let my plans succeed just as I planned them.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Then we got here and met up with the Rowes and the family we will be living with for who knows how long.  We already love the Rowes, and can see clearly we will love Ralph and Sylvia and their family.  This helped when the feeling of the loss of loved ones were so overwhelming that if we were Dorothy we would have clicked our heels three times.  I'm glad we couldn't do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;This is really the Dawn.  Got a full nights rest, something I haven't had in at least a month.  (I had been waking up at 3 or 4 every morning for quite a while.  I felt it was Gods way of getting me ready for the time change, it worked).  Keeping with Dorothy, "we're not in Kansas anymore".  Little things remind you it's different.  The birds singing in the back ground sound more like jungle birds, the paper towels are only around 8 by 8, everything is tile.  And it is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am grateful to God for showing me my limits.  Reminding me of how I would have done things before He started working in my life.  When things would start pressing in on me, I would have lashed out in anger and do something that would get me in trouble because that was what I did growing up.  I would rather suffer the punishment than live the stress.  I knew I could handle the punishment.  Now, up to my limits, I look for Gods leading in the stress.  God is faithful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-4160117172989091582?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/4160117172989091582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=4160117172989091582' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/4160117172989091582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/4160117172989091582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/08/dawn.html' title='Dawn'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-1350134016636232662</id><published>2008-08-06T07:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T08:11:31.311-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dusk</title><content type='html'>Wednesday morning around 5:00 am.&lt;br /&gt;Today we move our things out of the house to the various places we have assigned our stuff.  So much stuff.  Sunday night at our prayer meeting we sent out a global request for help for today to move and tomorrow to clean.  (I need to get my deposit back).&lt;br /&gt;It really starts today.  Last night was the last night we slept in our own bed.  Tonight and tomorrow night we'll stay with our son and his family.  We've rented a van, to haul all our stuff we're taking, to drive to Los Angeles for our flight.  We'll say good bye here in Kingsburg then cry all the way to LA.  Hopefully we'll get it all out in private before we get on the plane.&lt;br /&gt;God seems to be moving in the shadows.  Just there.  Out there close.  Waiting to see if I break.  Ready to step in, but letting me stretch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-1350134016636232662?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/1350134016636232662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=1350134016636232662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/1350134016636232662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/1350134016636232662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/08/dusk-wednesday-morning-around-500-am.html' title='Dusk'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4661554571297666836.post-1238359247718286319</id><published>2008-08-05T09:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T09:12:50.670-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twilight</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's Tuesday morning.  Three days until we leave for Brazil.  We have been working hard to get our home ready to rent.  Repairing, painting, packing &amp;amp; moving, and cleaning.  It has been overwhelming for me, more than I thought.  We took last Sunday off from the work and because we were still anxious, we realized the stress we are experiencing is more from the loss of moving than the work.  I have been trying to give the Lord the wrong burden.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4661554571297666836-1238359247718286319?l=gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/feeds/1238359247718286319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4661554571297666836&amp;postID=1238359247718286319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/1238359247718286319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4661554571297666836/posts/default/1238359247718286319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gregbekahinbrazil.blogspot.com/2008/08/twilight.html' title='Twilight'/><author><name>Greg Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11042019400004401655</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
