The Beautiful Chaos: What Sao Paulo Taught Us About the Work

If you've ever felt overwhelmed by a place—a place that seems too big, too loud, or simply too different—you know the feeling. When I pictured arriving in Sao Paulo, Brazil, I honestly expected a gentle, guided transition. What I got was a sensory overload that felt like a cinematic disaster movie.

Flying into one of the biggest cities in the world, surrounded by announcements in English and Portuguese, and then trying to navigate the chaos of the airport—it felt utterly terrifying. My initial thought was, “How am I going to learn this language? What even *is* going on?”

The sheer scale of the city, the pollution, the traffic, and then meeting a little man who speaks nothing but rapid Portuguese to herd us into a van—it was baptism by chaos. I remember praying the whole time, genuinely hoping I wouldn't die that day. It was a humbling reminder that the work doesn't always come packaged neatly. Sometimes it arrives covered in smog and Latin traffic.

After all the adrenaline and the terrifying drive, we finally arrived at the MTC. It was a beautiful, functional building, but even the food presented a challenge. We were given farofa, a type of flour that looked suspiciously like sand. When we, a group of American missionaries, stared at our plates of rice and beans topped with this beige, gritty substance, we looked at each other and thought, “What is this?!”

It was a cultural shock that forced us to dig in. We didn't know how to eat it, but we eventually learned to. This experience—from the chaotic drive to the strange, delicious, sand-like staple—was far more valuable than any classroom lecture. It taught us adaptability.

The Gift of Necessary Confusion

The truth I learned in Brazil is that the best missionary preparation is often the kind that feels like a little bit of controlled panic. Because when you are forced to navigate a new language, a new cuisine, and a new level of daily chaos, you stop thinking about what you *should* know, and you start focusing on what you *can* do.

More Than Just Studying

The MTC wasn't just a place to study; it was a place of immersion. We had endless opportunities to practice Portuguese—not just with the teachers, but with the surrounding community. The mission field, even the one right outside the MTC, is the ultimate testing ground. We had chances to proselyte in local shops and even went out to Avenida Paulista, the Wall Street of Sao Paulo. We were given books of the Law of Moses, and we went out and shared the gospel with broken Portuguese, feeling the Spirit guide our words even when our grammar failed us.

The Spirit doesn't require perfect English or perfect Portuguese. It requires humility, willingness, and a heart eager to share the gospel. The chaos of the world often clears the noise, allowing the Spirit to be the loudest voice.

A Skill for Every Disciple

If there is one take-away for my fellow rogue disciples, it is this: Embrace the unfamiliar. If you are currently studying, or if you are preparing for your own service, look for the moments that feel slightly uncomfortable—the conversations that require you to stretch your vocabulary, the areas that feel overwhelming, or the cultural differences that challenge your comfort zone. Those moments of necessary confusion are where the gospel is truly learned.

Next Steps in the Work

Don't wait for the structured environment of the MTC to feel like a disciple. You can practice this adaptability right where you are. I highly recommend digging into the concept of Christlike behavior through the lens of the Book of Mormon. If you're looking for some structured study time, check out a local Book Club or join a Bible Study Group in HolyPlaces this week. If you're feeling stuck on how to answer a tough question, remember that Davee is here to help you walk through the hardest investigator questions in your area.

Keep embracing the chaos, my friends. Keep the Spirit alive. The work awaits!