It’s been almost a year now, and I remember it so clearly.
As we entered the streets of Acari, the atmosphere was gloomy. There was undoubtedly some kind of heavy spirit lingering over that place. It was dark, not just as in the time of day, and the humid, sticky air was thick with a cumbersome essence. There were a lot of people outside that night, including a number of small children playing in the littered streets with no recognizable hint of a parent in sight. I had to refrain myself more than once from scolding some of them, especially the small boy who I observed repeatedly playfully but violently smacking one of his peers with a broken, jagged, splintery wood board. No one else seemed to notice or care.
It must have been a strange sight to the residents there, a large group of us, our team consisting of both Brazilians and Americans, walking cautiously together, coming into their territory. I made sure to smile at everyone I passed, but most of my reluctant smiles were met with inquisitive glares.
Likewise, it is an extremely peculiar feeling to enter a place where everyone stares unabashedly at you. One of the little girls on the street, through a translator, asked me if everyone in the U.S. was white. And then she proceeded to tell me she had never seen a white person before. I’m pretty sure I blushed when in silent amazement she reached out to touch my long, stick straight hair and told me how beautiful I was. I made sure to remind her that she was beautiful, too. She was, breathtakingly so. I couldn’t tell if she was a victim of the sex slavery that we knew was happening here, but I wouldn’t have been surprised.
We did some street ministry with the local church (who was also hosting/protecting us while we were visiting there in Acari), and many people were healed. Some of us got to pray for a little baby girl with a brain tumor. We crowded into her mother’s tiny living room, not much bigger than the size of my walk-in closet at home, and prayed for her healing. It was one of the most touching 30 minutes of my entire life.
While walking through the dark, narrow alleyways, we had every reason to be afraid. I knew there was crime happening all around me. There were drug dealers cutting cocaine on the side of the road. We saw people hiding weapons under their clothes and eying us with disdain, but, supernaturally, I wasn’t scared. None of us were.
In fact, all I could feel in that moment was love.....
Pure, unadulterated, unconditional, un-Americanized, un-religious love for these people, some of whom were criminals, and some of whom were victims. We were in the midst of all of the sin and ugliness surrounding us, and it all disappeared as we were overwhelmed and immersed in God’s love in its truest form, and His presence so thick. I wasn’t scared of anyone or anything there. I wanted to help them all see and feel this Love that I was so vividly and tangibly experiencing in that very moment. I wanted them to know that they were so passionately loved by the Father, too. Because this is the kind of love that changes lives...and atmospheres. And in a place like this, where the people are starved for any kind of love at all, the Father’s Love is free to flow abundantly.
There were many unforgettable moments during our trip to Rio last April. But this visit to Acari impacted our entire team, Americans and Brazilians alike, in a major way. It didn’t just change the lives of some of the people in Acari, it changed all of our lives too.
Ray Hughes, founder of Selah Ministries, recently delivered a compelling message at Resound: One Night, at Vinelife Church, and had this to say:
And David said, “People of God, interrupt the space on this planet. Everywhere you go, release that sound of praise. Create a habitation for Him to be in that moment.” Boy, what a job. What an awesome wonder, and what an honor. True creativity never finds the full expression in the confines of the intellect, because true creativity is borne out of God’s desire to reveal His mysteries. So we get to carry this mysterious, wondrous, awesome God who chose to dwell in us, and the overflow of our worship alone displaces everything that’s dark in our world.
I don’t think I could have said it any better myself.
It’s impossible to really understand it until you’ve experienced it for yourself, but there truly is no greater feeling than the humbling realization that God is using you creatively for something bigger than yourself, to carry Christ's light, love, and life into very dark places, and, in turn, there is no greater reward than to experience that same light, love, and life alongside those who need it the most.
And that is why I’m going back to Rio this June. It’s also why I invest my efforts, money, and time into Resound: Resound Conference, which happens right here in our community, and also Resound Global, where teams of us travel to places around the world with the sole purpose of resounding Love and life, and displacing darkness with radiant, divine, and glorious light.
Note: The purpose of this post is not to ask for financial assistance. I honestly just want people to understand why I invest so much of myself into it. But if you are interested in contributing financially on my behalf, please contact me at jenn@resoundconference.com.
