Kombi, Long Version

I walked into the parking lot at the international school and I knew it was mine. There, in the back corner, was a brand new white Kombi. Well, 2010 new. I walked up to it and reached out my hand to touch it, wanting to feel this dream come true.

I’ve been dreaming for two years—Pastor Flavio for three—about having a Kombi. It took him about a year to convince me that we needed one. I saw the need, I just didn’t want to start dreaming for something so big. It is scary to dream huge—for something that costs more than our current YEARLY budget.

When a dream finally comes true, it feels  like a hole in your heart. I think it is related to how beauty always makes you hurt. Accomplished dreams fill you so much you are emptied. I was smiling so big my mouth grew. Everyone that came to the school was greeted by my “Have you seen it! It is here! The Kombi is here!”

And everyone duly jumped up and down with me, because they had heard about the dream, they had dreamed with me. When the group from America arrived at the school (they have been here on a short term missions trip all week), I wouldn’t let them sit down until they had met my Kombi. We took pictures and circled around the Kombi, the rain christening it while we prayed and gave it back to God, asking His hand to be upon every person who ever entered its doors.

But more fun was yet to come. We have been teasing Pastor Flavio about getting a Toyota instead. To him, they are a dirty word compared to a Kombi. He knew we were looking into purchasing a vehicle, but didn’t know exact dates. When he arrived at the school, we soon gathered everyone together on the pretense of a group picture. After the serious picture, the funny picture, the extra picture, Steve drove up in the Kombi and Flavio literally fell over.

Tears in his eyes, he jumped in the seat and pretended to drive off, yelling his thanks out the window. It was amazing. Our Kombi has already been used to pick up luggage and take a group of volunteers to the trash dump where we played water balloons and shared God’s love. There, I spoke with Washington and Andrea, who lead up the ministry at the trash dump.

“There it is.” I pointed to the Kombi, “It has really happened.” Andrea turned to see the Kombi and tears filled her eyes. It is just such a visible mark of God providing. She knows me. She knows the ministry and struggles and yet here it was: God provided. It is hard to explain just how powerful this encouragement is to our brothers and sisters in Brazil. There are not enough words.

“I don’t believe it.” Shrugged Paulo, from Cajueiro Claro. Two years ago, he remembers drawing a picture of a Kombi that I took to the USA when we were working to raise money for the first Trek for Transportation. This year, he remembers making the video for the second Trek for Transportation. But he put on his hard face; it was just too much to believe God would work through strangers to send a Kombi to his little area of rural Brazil. “We will see.” Is all that Pastor Flavio responded.

For the children in the Living Stones program, having a vehicle is unheard of. None of the families do. Cars are a luxury. You walk, you get a ride, you do without. With a yearly income of $4000USD or less (for a whole family), the high price of cars (about double USA prices), and horrible roads that tear up vehicles for breakfast, it adds up to a possibility. A house? Perhaps. You can build a simple one in rural areas for about $5000USD. But a vehicle? A good one is going to be closer to $8,000USD—a Kombi much more.

We were able to get the 2010 Kombi for about $15,000USD, using the rest of the money raised for registration and basic maintenance. For the children in Living Stones, that is like buying three homes: it is a miracle. We (Living Stones workers) are working on a neat way to share with the kids about the Kombi arriving. We haven’t told them yet. And I can’t wait to see their faces.