been

There ought to be more. Shouldn’t there? Shouldn’t there be more to this frightful mess of life than just my pitiful attempts to suffice a God who will not be satisfied with anything less than the best I know how to give?

I am finding that taking the next step on the ladder toward heaven is the hardest part of life for me. I am fully aware of its height and am not so frightened of how far it takes me from the safety of ground as I am afraid of the fact that as soon as I go one rung higher the one beneath me dissipates in a cloud of dust. My world dissipates in a cloud of dust.

The world I place so much stock in, the world I try so desperately to leave behind me, the world which has nothing for me, the world which is so worthless in light of eternity and all that that entails. Yeah. That world.

The thing which disgusts me so much about this is my rebellion to let it fall away. I am determined to remind myself daily of all that sacrificing it would mean to me. All that I would have to leave behind: A home, a family, friends, church, safety. Yeah. The world.

It has to become nothing to me in the sight of my God. It has to become loss to me in the sight of His fellowship. It has to become nothing to me in the light of His love. It has to.



Serve the ones that I despise
Speak the words I can’t deny
Watch the world I used to love
Fall to dust and thrown away
I look beyond the empty cross
Forgetting what my life has cost
So wipe away the crimson stains
And dull the nails that still remain

babble

Finally, a quiet moment.

Finally a moment when all the busyness which surrounds me becomes quiet. Finally I can process something more than flip flopped Spanish sentences and six year olds clamoring for a piece of my broken attempt at their language.

Finally a moment when I sit still and wish I had stuck my bible and journal in my melon colored canvas bag this morning.

But I’ll settle for the quietness too.

There is nothing I’d like better to do than write and write and write, process the thoughts which have been fighting for breath and soon smothered under the weight of the daily grind. A few:

We lose the power at least once a day, sometimes three or four. This would not be such a huge inconvenience if we were not so reliant on alarm clocks, spreadsheets and keeping contact through email at home.

The best thing to do upon returning home each evening is to pick three large lemons off the tree outside and make fresh lemonade. Soon the tree will be bare of lemons. This is not the best thing.

I feel like I may be repeating myself when I say this, and so I am, but it is hot down here. They promise that it will be hotter from March through June, but I prefer to hope in the goodness and mercy of God. There has not been a day under 90 since we’ve been here.

It is a bad day when I want to watch Smallville because it will have the only English words I’ll hear that I’m not generating.

I was dismayed upon finding out that:

There is no differentiation between seasons here. No shadows or turning. The darkness always falls at 6pm and the light always comes at 7am.

Spanish uses a completely different alphabet than we do. The letters are the same, but nothing sounds the same. Nothing.

I am not allowed to go barefoot outside.

Mazatenango isn’t a very white-person friendly environment, therefore, we are not allowed to be displayed to the public very often, which is fine, except it means we go nowhere alone. Being alone has its advantages, I already knew, I just didn’t always appreciate them as much as I do now.

Culture:

There are drunk men lying on the side of every road.
Horses graze in parking lots.
Women are taught the art of balancing bags on their heads from a very young age.
Cow tendons are a delicacy.
Children are the same here, there, everywhere. The same mischievous grins and fooling eyes. The same perfect destinies and faith. The same dependence and small stature. The only thing different is that here we speak a different language.

The story of Babel isn’t very comforting to me right now.

soup

I take that back about the soup. The wretched soup came on Thursday when we were served cow tendons in broth. Bite. Chew. Swallow the wretched soup.

imagined

I somehow imagined that this journey would be more arduous. I imagined there would be daily opportunities to show Christ my loyalty and now I find I am learning two things: Christ does not need my loyalty, only my humanity, broken, prideful, arrogant and weak; and opportunities to die for Christ are smaller than I ever thought before. Bite. Chew. Swallow the wretched soup. Sit. Sit. Sit. Wait patiently for the slowest movements to be made. Keep my heart focused on the job at hand: looking for the smallest opportunities to let Jesus see that I am not a great child or an able martyr, only a servant when no one is looking but Him.

two

I am now fully bilingual. I have, as of a few hours ago, mastered the alphabet in Spanish sign language. Kudos to me. Now I can talk to Keila's dad.

newness

I am here and have been for several days. I celebrated the new year on the roof of a guatemalen home, watching fireworks, friends who will leave and photo shoots.

I am here. For the long shot. A year doesn't sound so long now that I am down here, but I refuse to deceive myself into thinking that it will be a cake walk. I square my shoulders, set my pace and crumble when the slightest hint of home is reminded to me.

She sat on my lap last night. My arms around her shoulders, her head resting on mine. 'I'll miss you' she said and I reciporated. The tears formed in both our eyes and somehow I think we buried our heads respectively enough to keep anyone from noticing.

But we noticed. We noticed the lack that will be there in three days. She will board a plane, I will ride a jeep on bumpy roads. She will go home and I will make a new one.

Two weeks of good-byes is too much.

At each stoplight here two people, usually a man and a boy, will come to the center of the one street and begin to do clown acts. Juggling. Air-cycling. Faces. You name it, they do it. It's normal here. It's not normal to me.

It will be in a few months though. I'll report back later.