I landed in Marabá on the weekend of Brazil’s most celebrated holiday: Carnival.
Four days when a whole nation “lets loose.” Sometimes with joy. Often with regret.
Our churches do something quietly rebellious with those same four days: we run a youth retreat (for youth of all ages). We’re not pretending culture has no power. We’re just refusing to hand the steering wheel over to the darkest parts of it.
When our people return to school and work, their friends often have stories of excess, hangovers, broken relationships, and the strange loneliness that comes after a party ends.
Our people come back with different stories:
Mud. Laughter. Teamwork. Worship. Tears. Prayer. And the steady, surprising presence of God right in the middle of it all.
And that is exactly where Psalm 9 lives.
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The Psalm That Changes the Rhythm
Psalm 9 carries an unusual pause-word: Higgaion. Selah. In plain language:
Stop. Change the rhythm. Think deeply.
That’s what David does. He looks at the chaos and refuses to be shaped by it.
He chooses praise. Then he chooses justice. Then he chooses trust.
“I will give thanks to the LORD with all my heart… I will tell of all Your wonders… I will rejoice and be glad in You.”
And then the hinge—the part I’ve been circling all week:
“The LORD sits as King forever… He has established His throne for judgment… He will judge the world in righteousness… The LORD will be a stronghold for the oppressed… For You, LORD, have not abandoned those who seek You.”
That’s David’s blueprint for servant leadership in one paragraph:
Begin with worship.
Tell the truth about the world.
Defend the vulnerable.
Trust the King who reigns forever.
And remember: we are “merely human.”
Which brings me to two men who shaped my life—one who finished at 44, and one who finished at 93.
When the Pioneers Go Home
This past week, a mentor of thirty years stepped across the river.
Jim Nyssen is now with Jesus.
He joins Luke Huber—the mission leader who first invited us to Brazil—who went ahead of him decades ago. Luke died on the front lines at 44. Jim finished his race at 93 after a long, steady decline.
Different endings. Same surrender.
Both were what I call all-in Christians.
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Jim Nyssen and Luke Huber in our home in Chilliwack, 1992—one photo, two pioneers, and a decision that changed our lives.
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In 1992, Jim and Luke visited us in Chilliwack. We had a good home. A beautiful one-year-old daughter. A comfortable path in front of us.
Then Luke invited us to Brazil.
And with the help of many people—Jim included—we went in 1993.
Jim: The Man Behind the Scenes
Jim’s life didn’t move in a straight line.
He lied to get into the military as he was underage, and served in special forces with unusual assignments in various countries. After that, he worked in Canada, almost anonymously, as a farm laborer in rural British Columbia.
In upcountry BC, he met Vicky and became a Christian.
Then he became an inventor.
When engineers told him it was impossible to build a corrugated steel culvert machine, Jim didn’t argue—he kept walking forward.
God gave him dreams. God gave him provision. God gave him courage.
Along the way he had a powerful encounter with the Holy Spirit at an Assemblies of God church, and gave his businesses and future to God.
Jim remembered the poor. Quietly.
He supported orphanages. He invested in mission work most people never heard about. He helped build churches. Along with my father-in-law and others, he helped spark what became the Xingu Mission and the Vineyard churches in Altamira.
He was never the loudest man in the room.
But heaven knew his name.
The Garage Church (And the Dream That Bought a House)
In the mid-90s, we were barely surviving in Brazil.
Minimal support. No savings. No health insurance. No backup plan.
Our first church was meeting in our garage in Altamira—pushing the truck out every Sunday morning because the battery was dead, sweeping mud off the floor because the streets were clay. When it rained, water found its way in. When it didn’t rain, the dust did.
We squeezed about 80 people into that space.
Then we rented a riverside dance hall for Sunday nights. Sometimes the owner asked us to end early so they could open the bar.
That was pioneering life.
At home, we lived in a swampy rental. Rats ran through the house in plain sight, even when guests were there.
One night, Jim phoned.
“I had a dream,” he said. “I never do this—but I think we’re supposed to help you buy a house.”
We found a place on a hill—$11,000. He helped us secure it. That home became a hub for mission life and church gatherings.
Years later, Steve and Elba bought it from us and continued using it as a hub for many more years. The funds helped us start over in another city.
That is how movements grow.
Not by spotlight.
By faith.
Luke: The Front-Line Fire
Luke and Christine Huber were the ones who first invited us to Brazil. Wholehearted. Passionate. Completely surrendered.
Luke told us he would train us as missionaries—and then move with us to Mozambique.
When Luke died, we placed that Mozambique dream back into God’s hands.
Jim believed Psalm 9. Luke believed Psalm 9.
One finished at 44. One finished at 93.
Both finished all in.
A Word to the Young (of All Ages)
If you are 20 — go all in. If you are 40 — go all in. If you are 70 — go all in.
Even at 93, when he struggled to breathe because his lungs were hardened, Jim would look up from the couch and say, “This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.” Every time I visited him, he would say this. Jim was still all-in for God.
When considering a decision that has great implications, I ask myself, “What’s the worst thing that could happen if I do this?”
The worst-case in going all-in?
You get to heaven early.
Paul wrote it without flinching:
“To live is Christ, and to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21)
That isn’t recklessness.
That’s clarity.
And the best case?
You live a life so aligned with God’s purposes that—whether you finish at 44 or 93—you cross the line with joy.
You were created for meaning. You were created for courage. You were created for surrender.
And nothing else satisfies.
A Quiet Moment for Reflection
Before you scroll—pause.
Where is God asking you to change the rhythm?
Who is one “needy” person or family you can remember this week—practically?
What would “all in” look like in your actual next step—not your someday dream?
A simple suggestion: text one person today—encourage them, pray for them, or offer help. Small obedience is how big movements grow.
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Deanna’s Journey to Healing
Deanna and me with Jim and Vicky a few years ago—gratitude, history, and a quiet kind of friendship.
Deanna is getting healthier. This week she told me it felt easier to walk up the hill where we used to do our morning walks.
We are grateful. And we keep praying forward.
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A Word from This Week
A young mom is crossing the mudhole obstacle with her team following close behind. And that mud did not smell too good. Contestants had to stay under the rubber bands.
At the retreat, everyone—from age 10 and up—was divided into six teams with color shirts. Here was the rule:
The team isn’t finished until everyone is finished.
So the strong helped the weak. The fast circled back for the slow. The brave steadied the fearful.
That is collaboration.
That is discipleship.
That is servant leadership—taught without a lecture, written into muscle memory.
Ivanildo explaining the rules—clarity before the challenge.
Later, there were two pots of “soup.” Every participant had to drink 200 ml. One tasted terrible. The other was… repulsive. It wasn’t dangerous—just challenging.
The lesson wasn’t “be tough.” The lesson was: you don’t quit on your people.
Teams searching the property for hidden items—matches, kindling, tea—scattering like ants on a mission.
Then came the fire challenge: find the six hidden items, build a fire, boil the pot first.
It looked like a game.
But what was being trained was leadership:
initiative
teamwork
endurance
problem-solving
encouragement under pressure
Angelita ministering in the morning—about 20 youth responding to Jesus.
In the morning session in the photo above, after Angelita shared her testimony, about 20 youth invited Jesus into their hearts.
It sounds simple. Almost unimpressive.
But it is not.
A few Christians truly living like salt can keep whole communities from going off the rails.
That is community transformation in practice.
Clenildo calling forward those who were part of these meetings 15 years ago. In Brazil, Carnival means masks, fantasy, performance. Here, the whole church participates—but redeemed. What the culture uses for escape, we use for formation.
In one of the evening sessions, Clenildo invited everyone who had been part of this church 15 years ago to come forward.
A few went forward immediately. Many hesitated, because life hasn’t unfolded the way they once imagined.
Clenildo honored them all.
He remembered that many fight giants we cannot see.
And then he prayed—strongly, tenderly—over their lives.
In that moment, under the glow of the cross, you could feel Psalm 9 breathing in real time:
The LORD sits as King forever. He has not abandoned those who seek Him.
And neither should we.
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Prayer Requests
Deanna’s complete healing and strength.
The mission property sale: if it’s You, Lord, let it go through cleanly; if it’s not You, stop it with mercy and clarity.
Our Portugal survey trip: prepare us, prepare the people we’ll meet, and prepare the circumstances ahead of us.
For youth everywhere (youth of all ages): that God would form “all in” hearts that finish strong.
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Closing Prayer
Lord Jesus,
Thank You for the pioneers who went before us. Thank You for quiet investors and front-line warriors. Teach us to live with open hands and fearless hearts.
Give courage to the young. Give endurance to the weary. Give vision to those who are wondering if they still matter.
