The Great Brazilian “Jewell” Robbery

My friend and colleague Mike Jewel received some unexpected visitors last month. Here is his report of events:
I was sleeping and heard my dog bark. When I looked from bed I saw a shadowy figure in the kitchen. He ordered me to bury my face in the mattress. He asked me a question and I looked in his direction. It looked like he had a pistol. He threw what looked like a sock and felt like a rock at my head and hit my chin. He then came behind me and put something to my head and said “quero dollar.”
I told him I didn’t have dollars. He then said “Where’s the money! We know you have money!” I told him where the reais were. He made me show him. He then ordered me to the floor where he tied my hands with electrical tape. He tied my feet with a rope that I had in the room. He then told his buddy Zé “vamos embora! (Let’s get out of here)”
They left with the keys to the house and my van. As I sat thanking the Lord that I was still alive I was able to slip out of my bonds. So, at 2.00am with the house basically open i took a look around. It was what I would say a typical robbery scene with stuff scattered everywhere.

Robbery is a fact of life in Brazil. When we arrived we were told it was not a question of if but of when. Our family was spared the kind of trauma you read of above during our first term. We had some items “appropriated” from our yard once, and twice from our car. It wasn’t until we came back to the US that we actually had a vehicle stolen.
What impresses me most about Mike’s situation is his attitude toward the events, as evidenced by the subsequent posts on his blog. What follows is one particularly thought-provoking paragraph that he posted shortly after the robbery, re-posted here with his permission:

The night before last as I sat in my own house, in my boxers, tied hand and foot, Christ was all that I had. I could not depend on my super strength. As I had imagined doing in such situations. I could not depend on a super hero coming to my rescue. Though it would have been a choice time for the U.S. Cavalry to have showed up. I couldn’t even trust that one of my captors might all of a sudden fall to his knees and ask Christ to save him from his wicked ways. Though I had prayed audibly and asked for Gods help for both he and me. Christ was there in my weakness. With nothing between me and death but inches of musty air, Christ was both with me and in me. He was all that I had. It was at that moment that I discovered that he was all that I need.

I encourage you to read the rest of what Mike has written. You will be encouraged, challenged, and motivated to pray for your missionaries.