MK forum

I believe Dickens wrote it best: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times".

As some have commented upon, Via represents a kaleidoscope of feelings, so much so that it is hard to see what was real, what was true, what was twisted, and what was good. I feel a bit like the White Witch who had knowledge, but lacked the knowledge of the Deep Truth, to which Aslan and the Emperor Beyond the Sea was privy. What was real??

I fondly remember times with friends, playing spoons in the refei.

I fondly remember Field Day (for purposes totally devoid of accumulating points, etc., as I've already mentioned earlier in posts).

I fondly remember snack times with Uncle Rog and Aunt Linda (remember the cream puffs?).

I fondly remember frying frog legs.

I fondly remember . . .well, not fondly, but doing breakfast set-up and listening to GLAD.

I fondly remember being exposed to David Meece (thanks ViaWings), Petra & Stryper (thanks Muck!), and all the assorted friendships that, even now, through the years, we can, upon meeting one another, instantly remember and recall tastes, smells, and sounds of life as Brasilian MKs.

I fondly remember seeing the rain clouds form over the valley and hoping against hope we could finish playing volei on the quadra before it hit.

Even the inconveniences are remembered a bit fondly . . .squigy-ing the quadra after a rainfall. And who can forget electricity that always seemed to go out right at a good part in the movie!

Who could forget Clay making out with himself in a corner! (I couldn't let that memory go by without mentioning it!)

And yet, for all the good memories, there were the bad memories . . . . So, truly, a Dickensonian world was inhabited on that "red spot of land" above the valley.

I will always be grateful for the friends I made at Via. Even though we are just now exploring the aching loneliness we all felt, yet dared not give voice to at the time, truly, I am thankful my path crossed yours.

So, as they close the Via of old, with the good, the bad, and the truly horrifically ugly (sounds like a Clint Eastwood spaghetti western!), I pray that repentant hearts, partnering with the Holy Spirit, will birth a better institution on that piece of property, whatever its ultimate use. God truly can bring beauty out of ashes!

I'm feeling a little lucky right now. I've been hearing rumblings of this for years, so I kind of knew it was coming. I was prepared, I guess you could say. I just wish I would have thought to mention it so that others could have been prepared, too.

I was also able to visit Via just a few years ago with a bit more of an adult perspective. I was a little (okay, a lot...) apprehensive about it and expected some major emotions, although I wasn't sure which way they'd swing. I was very surprised when I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. So I'm very grateful that I have had my chance to say good-bye. 'Course there've been other things that have come up since then...

I don't and won't miss Via (the school and all its elements). My best memories are x-tudos, churrasco, arroz e feijao, pamonha, pao de queijo, coxinha, etc.; warm sun, sunsets and calendar-perfect clouds; the feiras in Brasilia and Goiania; volei in Silvania (at least for the first while) - and many other things about living in Brasil. Via, on the other hand, not so much.

Via closing...trying to think of a downside...but I really can't. Hope some day to show my kids the beautiful view of the valley--if there is still one with all of the new homes being built. Would love to show them my favorite tree in which to read. I am thrilled I won't have to show them any little boys and girls busily mopping the muddy patios before they hurry off to school without a hug and and kiss from their mom.

NTM of Brazil has been asking for years to use that property for consolidating the training--but people who had built on the Land didn't want to lose their "investment"--it was all built with money donated for the purpose of advancing the gospel to the tribes....I say let the Nationals have it! Just make the stipulation that that property may never be used to board children of any nationality for any reason!

What I wouldn't do to have one last meal there, though . . .and a sleepover where we sneak out of the gate and play sardines . . .wow I feel old

I have mixed feelings about this. I got back from being with my parents in Brasil, allowing my husband to see Brasil for the first time. I didn't take him to see Vianopolis. I guess I didn't want that place to take any more time away from my parents. I had one month with them and it flew by, just like all my vacations had. Now I am left crying and crying, like I'm a kid again. I can't stand the emptiness and hurt I feel inside. All those years robbed from me. And all I get is a stinkin' apology email?!?!
Yesterday I went to a wedding, and I STILL can't get myself to dance with everyone. I stand on the fringe and wiggle my legs like its evil or something. How do you teach someone that its okay after so many years of indoctrination?
And what about my views of God? My number one struggle has been wondering: will God supply for me? (Is it a wonder when I went without shoes or clothes when I was a kid?) Will He leave me (too)? Will I be good enough? Am I doing enough for Him?
I guess Mary needed tears to wash Jesus' feet. I guess that's what I'll go do. I can't wait til heaven when all these tears and bad memories are wiped away and all we are left with is good ones. When we are permanently united with our families, for life, eternal life.

64 = number of days spent traveling back and forth from Vianopolis
64= number of months spent away from my parents
number of tears cried= only God knows (Psalm 56:8)

By Your Side by Tenth Avenue North

Why are you striving these days
Why are you trying to earn grace
Why are you crying
Let me lift up your face
Just don't turn away

Why are you looking for love
Why are you still searching as if I'm not enough
To where will you go child
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run

And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life

(Chorus 2x)

Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, I love you
I'll never let you go

Thanks, findingwords.
You have found the words.
Your tears are understood -- and embraced -- here.

Just telling my therapist how I cried the whole way back from Brazil, on one of my three visits to there in my adulthood. It was so hard to go back to my husband, my regular work, and know nobody would understand. Always to be split up with those you love, the sacrifice that MKs are to bear with so much dignity.

@findingwords: Thanks for sharing your thoughts. Wishing I could hug you as I have tears in my eyes over what you wrote. It's cruel that those who were supposed to speak and live God's truth to us, have left you with only questions and doubt of God's goodness and faithfulness. I loved the song you shared. Cling to those words when you doubt. Any human will never be a true representation of Christ. You are so loved by Him, unconditionally. You are so precious to him. It's ok to ask those hard questions and to feel those hurts, but let Him wrap you in His love and demonstrate that love to you as He heals your hurts.