A Lesson From Brazil.

Hey friends and family-- sorry for the repost, but I wanted to move this story over to my newer blog, so here it is again. :)

10/1/12:

Our trip to Brazil was nothing short of amazing. I should really have a couple posts about it, but I loved every second of our time there.

I love Bryan's family so much, and it was so great to get to spend so much time with them.
{We learned all the ways to beat each other in Monopoly Deal, you know, quality family stuff.}
But today I want to share an experience I had while in Brazil.

We woke up and took about four subway rides and an interesting train ride to get to one of Bryan's areas, Jaragua.

On this train ride, we passed through favela after favela and it was astounding to see poverty extend literally farther than the eye could see. 

{View of a favela from the train}

Once we arrived, we walked through so many neighbors like the one above in order to find two things.

1. The house Bryan lived in for several months.
2. The apartment of a family Bryan was planning on visiting.
We found number one pretty quickly. 

{Gate to Bryan's apartment}

We then proceeded to walk {and by walk, I mean semi-hike... all the neighborhoods are on insane hills so you are hardly ever walking straight. Always up and down} to find the apartment of this family Bryan wanted to visit. We walked for a long, long time, and truthfully, I was starting to feel tired and hungry and ready to get there. We finally found the neighborhood we were looking for, but when we arrived, to our dismay, the family was not home. We had walked all that way for nothing. Bryan mentioned that he had this experience almost daily on the mission and I started to see how it would be so easy for missionaries to get discouraged.
So we turned around to walk back to the train station. {Which seemed forever away, and I swear, somehow, we found a way to walk uphill both ways.}
On our way back, we stopped to look at the chapel that serves that area.
There just happened to be a member there, working on the grounds and he so sweetly unlocked the gate and building for us so that we could take a look around. 

{Sweet Brazilian man letting us in.}

The second I stepped in the chapel, I was completely overcome. Right in the hall was the same picture of Christ that hangs in the hall of my home ward. The women's bathroom had a white jumpsuit hanging up to dry-- they had just had a baptism. Bryan wrote on the chalkboard in one of the small classrooms that he had been there. I'm literally starting to tear up just writing this. Everyone was off talking to the member and looking around, and I just happened to find the primary room. I opened the door and saw tiny chairs, little plastic toys, pictures of Christ on the walls and an old electronic keyboard with a hymnbook sitting on top of it. I wish I could explain how things like this feel, but I really can't do it justice. In that instant, everything made sense to me. I know why missionaries hike in shirts and ties through slums to go to appointments that don't even show up. I know why all their hard work and sacrifice is worth it. I know another reason why I am so proud to be married to Bryan. There is a reason. It's very real. What we have as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is real. It is worth sending nineteen year old young men out into the world to share what we know. And all the sudden, even after my inward {and probably outward} complaining, I knew that what we are doing as members of the church is worth any sacrifice we make. Everything made sense. Everything was in perspective. Eternal perspective. Naturally, I started crying. And naturally, we wanted pictures in front of this amazing building. So, this is the picture I have from the stake center in Jaragua. 

{Yes, I am most definitely still crying.}

We had a lot of fun in Brazil, and I loved everything about being there.
{Except maybe my clothes all reeking of Sao Paulo, that city does not have a good smell.}
But this is one memory from my trip that I am never going to forget.
Not only did it give me a deeper appreciation for my faith and beliefs, it strengthened every part of my testimony, and it made me fall even more in love with my husband.
I am so grateful for the good decisions he made and for the things he sacrificed before, during and after his mission. I am such a lucky, lucky girl.