Left To Reflect

At the moment I’m sitting in the airport of one of the biggest cities in the world. People rush by me on their way to catch their departing flight, linger to say good bye, and then strain for one last glimpse of a family member. Diana’s sister Donita, niece Samantha, and nephew Josiah have just entered the security area themselves and I am left alone in a sea of people to reflect on their Thanksgiving visit with us.

I could tell you about some of the things we did together: the visit to the market to buy cemitas (Puebla sandwiches), our visit to Cholula to see the Aztec pyramids, our Thanksgiving dinner with turkey and dried grasshoppers, the pre-dinner touch football game with friends, the all day and late night games, the visit to the Cathedral followed by hot churros, or the sidewalk dinner in Cholula.

Or, I could take time to reflect with you on the many things that were meaningful to us: the support and encouragement, learning about Samantha and Josiah’s summer trip to Kenya and hearing their heart, a special prayer time we had on Thursday evening, everyone’s servant attitude toward us, or an opportunity to share a bit of my heart at the Starbucks in the airport.

But, what was really meaningful to them? Beyond the first impressions and cultural intrigues what did they take home? If they could write their own story what would they tell us and what insight would they share? What tapestry did the Lord weave into their hearts that we or even they were unaware of? I’m left to only wonder and reflect. Regardless, we are thankful for them brightening our corner of the world by coming.

MORE OF MARIA'S DRAWINGS:

All Things

Her entrance in the waiting area of the bus station commanded respect and attention. She came in with the aid of two crude homemade canes and a family member at her arm. Everyone waited with festive excitement for their arrival but they also did not fail to greet and give respect to grandmother. Her presence filled the room.

I observed her for a long time, letting her appearance soak into my mind. She wore a blue checked apron that almost completely covered her flowered dress and a heavy brown wool sweater. A scarf accented the mismatched outfit. Her gray hair was braided and tied together. A straw hat with yellow ribbon completed this indigenous outfit. But most striking of all was her leathery face and dark piercing eyes hiding underneath that straw hat.

She commanded attention not only because of her position in the family but because of her life journey and her connection to the ancient ways. As I observed I thought, and as I thought I hurt. What were her chances of inheriting eternal life?

In the back of the room a young child of the family was being tossed into the air and squealing with delight oblivious to the presence of the old grandmother, to the ancient ways, but very much in the circle of influence. What are his changes of inheriting eternal life? Is it possible to step outside the influence?

"Jesus looked at them and said, 'With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.'" (Mark 10:27)

My Humiliation Their Persecution

Precaution: this entry has some disturbing content.

It happened again. When will I ever get beyond the moments of another failure, a dull mind, and more humiliation? It’s peck, peck, pecking away at me and affecting other areas of my life. I’m so tired of being humiliated. Such were my feelings when I picked up a book about the life of Liu Zhenying. Liu is a underground house church leader in China. He has suffered greatly because of his faith in Christ.

Here’s some of what I read: “The cell leader, who had been appointed by the guards came and deliberately urinated on my face and urged the others to do the same…This was a great humiliation but I was too weak to protest…One afternoon I was also carried to the yard, where the guard instructed the men to throw me into a septic tank where the waste of all the prisoners was collected…The guards electrocuted me again and again…They even used their electric batons to stab me inside my mouth. I cannot easily describe the pain this caused. I thought my brain was going to explode. My mind and body shake even today when I think about those experiences. I longed to die to escape the pain...”

"I’ve suffered many tortures and torments in my life…But I tell you from the heart that the most difficult thing I’ve ever experienced was seeing the condition of my family when they came to visit me in those days. They were all skin and bones from lack of food, were dressed in rags, and I could see they were struggling terribly…The paternal instincts inside me cried out to be a good daddy to my precious children, and a good husband to my dear wife…Usually the authorities come and confiscate everything of value from the prisoner’s home, even pots and pans, clothing and furniture. Sometimes they even take away farm animals and seed."

Well now, that puts a different spin on humiliation. And I thought forgetting a few words or not understanding questions was difficult. More importantly than my little world of lost words is the world in which our brothers and sisters suffer. While we live in relative ease and self-imposed unawareness, others of our body are imprisoned, beaten, raped, burned and chased from their homes.

The second Sunday of November is International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church.

And yet these men and women are able to rise above these difficulties in a way that makes my Christian life look feeble. “I’d suffered some horrible tortures, but God has been faithful. I’d been dragged in front of judges and courts, but God had been faithful. I’d been hungry, thirsty, and had fainted from exhaustion, but God had been faithful…Through it all, God was always faithful and loving to me. He had never left me nor forsaken me. His grace was always sufficient and he provided for my every need…I didn’t suffer for Jesus in prison. No! I was with Jesus and I experienced his very real presence, joy, and peace every day. It’s not those in prison for the sake of the gospel who suffer. The person who suffers is he who never experiences God’s intimate presence.”

All other days are International Days of Prayer for the Un-persecuted Church to have the same faith and courage.

(From The Heavenly Man with Paul Hattaway: Monarch Books – 2002)

Day of The Dead - Round Two

Entering our second round of Day of the Dead, we realize we don’t understand it very well and even those here have differing opinions. Some say it’s a way to maintain Mexican traditions, while others say that “strange and unusual” things happen. Some say it’s only a way to honor deceased relatives, while others say they keep up the custom “just in case” the spirits were to return. Some say the food is left untouched, while others say the spirits “take the odor from the food” and leave it tasteless.

One thing we do know is that there are basic elements that go into creating these altars which have specific meanings. Some of these include:
Photograph of the Deceased – a way to remember those who visit this night. Also some things the deceased owned are gathered for comfort.
Water – quenches the thirst of the deceased after their long journey, also symbolizes purity of the soul.
Incense – cleanses the area of bad spirits and incites prayer.
Flowers – represents the welcome for the soul and marks the path for the spirits to find the altar.
Bread – one of the principle elements and is an offering for the soul.
Liquor – a drink to the deceased in order to remember the good things of their life.
Cut Paper Decorations – purple and yellow are especially used to signify the union between life and death.
Salt – an element representing purification.
Candles – light the way for the spirit to find the house and represent the ascension of the spirit.

With reluctance I’m posting some photos to give you a better idea of it all. I say that because I find it neither pleasant nor intriguing, but it is the harsh reality of the world in which we live everyday. Without reluctance I ask that you join hands with us in prayer for our family and teammates during these days and for all those whose lives await liberation.