In my 24 plus years of life I have seen lots of really bad things. I’ve witnessed things most people wouldn’t dream of and I’ve seen things nobody wants to speak of.

However, there is nothing I have ever witnessed that could possibly have prepared me for what I observed in Sao Paulo, Brazil on February 16, 2009.

We arrived at CENA after a bus ride, a train ride, and a hike of about three or four blocks. A very kind man named Joao showed us around and told us to make ourselves at home.

We asked if it would be ok for the three of us to walk around the streets later. Joao laughed and said no. He said if we wanted to go see the streets he would take us.

I was excited as street ministry has always been my passion. As we turned down the first street, I realized this would be unlike any street ministry I had ever experienced.

There were probably 50-75 men, women and children all sitting along the sides of the streets. Many were smoking crack pipes. The numbers were astonishing.

I smiled as Joao grabbed and hugged people. He has built relationships with many of them and is showing them God’s heart.

Then we met a small boy. As soon as he approached us I saw the crack addiction in his eyes and it was all I could do to fight back the tears in mine. I asked Joao how old the boy was. “Thirteen,” he said. There are no words to express the pain I felt seeing a thirteen year old boy trapped in the horror that is addiction to crack cocaine.

But this was only the beginning of our journey. As we were walking to the next street I overheard Joao telling Andy, “this street has not so many people but the next street has a lot.” I wondered how this could be possible.

We turned a corner and I was completely speechless. There were maybe 200 people walking around, smoking crack, selling their bodies, and doing who knows what else.

By this time I had drifted into my own little world, thinking what seemed like a million thoughts per second. Who supplies the drugs out here? How does a 13 year old get addicted to crack? What could we possibly do to make a difference in this place?

As these thoughts raced through my head I guess I stopped paying attention to my surroundings because before I knew it someone grabbed my arm pulling me from the middle of the street as a police car pulled up.

The SUV stopped in the middle of the road and four officers jumped out wielding guns and pointing them in our direction and yelling in Portuguese. Now, I don’t speak Portuguese, but I’ve been around the block enough to know when a cop points a gun at you, you put your hands on the wall and spread your legs.

As I walked to the wall with my friends and about five of the street people, I looked around and noticed the street once filled with a couple hundred people was now basically empty.

Our friend Joao was able to explain to the police that we were missionaries and after they thoroughly examined our passports, they joked with Joao a bit and then let us go.

I’ve seen police bust into places with their guns drawn before, I’ve had them stick their guns in my face before. But there was something about the militant nature of these police officers which struck me.

As the night rolled by I noticed other police SUV’s going down the street. All of them had four police officers in them and they would be hanging out of the window with their guns drawn and finger on the trigger. I was way out of my league on these streets.

The third street we went down was the most troubling of all. When we first turned down it I saw about five kids playing soccer together. I immediately saw another mass of street people about 50 yards beyond them. There seemed to be more kids on this street.

I saw many children under the age of 16 walking around with crack pipes in their hands. It was the children that got to me the most. I’ve been around many crack addicts in my life, but I don’t believe I’ve ever met one under the age of 16. Tonight I saw many.

As we walked back to our home for the next couple days I continued to wrestle with the thought of what we could do to make a difference. I feel God told me that part of my responsibility is to make sure people know about what goes on here; to make people aware that there are children smoking crack on the streets of Sao Paulo, Brazil.

For the more immediate time frame, however, I believe our best “ministry” will be to encourage those who are here on a day to day basis and to do whatever we can to serve them.

Also as I pondered the question of how we could make an impact, I was moved by the impact Joao has made on me. Walking down streets filled with evil, he glowed with a joy that only Christ can give. He wore a smile that told these people there is hope. He hugged prostitutes and kissed addicts on the cheek.

I pray I can demonstrate that kind of love to the people I encounter. Perhaps we all could learn a lesson from Joao.

No matter how dark the alley we walk through, Jesus is the light of the world. If we bring Him, we can brighten up any situation.