Every time I come to the desert of Brazil I come away amazed at what happens to my faith.
It seems to take on a new vitality and becomes the proverbial “faith on steroids.” I begin to do things I wouldn’t typically do while at home, I boldly go where I otherwise wouldn’t simply because at home I don’t feel that it is a territory where I can be effective.
And that is probably what holds me back — me.
Prayer is one of the components of my faith that seemingly takes on a life of its own while in Brazil.
I have directly prayed for about twenty people over the last 30 hours. One 65 year old immediately begin swinging his arm around and jumping like a kid; his torn rotor cuff in his shoulder no longer was immobilizing his arm and his knees no longer hurt. A 40 year old mother was suffering something fierce with abdominal pain; I knew when it stopped by the beatific look that came over her face when it stopped. A 35 year old woman stood before me, crying uncontrollably, suffering from depression and taking several medications for it; the look of amazement on her face when “it” happened made me cry. A 51 year old with terminal cancer asked me to bless her; I did.
I have never seen myself as a “faith healer,” even though Jesus has always said the contrary, not just to me but to all of us who claim to be disciples.
Yeah, Brazil helps me become a believer.