July 22, 2009

• “God will judge, the Holy Spirit will convict, and i am here to love.” –Billy Graham

  When we pray for patience, does God give us patience–or an opportunity to show patience?

  i found the saddest verse in the Bible: Zechariah 11:10

  We said goodbye to the group of Americans that came for the short term missions trip. Colin said “You aren’t one of those who go and get married and become all serious and frumpy, are you?”

  i hope not. what a horrible word that is…”frumpy.” We had good times together. looking for mandolins and feeding monkeys. (we have resident spider monkeys at the Alcance now)

  i feel melancholy. airports do that to you. even when you aren’t leaving. because someone is. and i have to get more documents for renewing my visa in the endless process that feels like it is taking over my life.

  to get one document, i have gone to my college three times–the first time to pay the pre-fine and to get the name of a different person i needed to talk to. the second time to pay the entrance fine and to talk to the first person who told me to talk to the second person. the third time to talk to the third person and then get the actual document. each trip requires me to stand out in the rain (it has been raining) until a Kombi comes by, i squish in, and then walk through lama (puddles and piles of mud) both ways (uphill, i should add in my complaining…).

  but right now i have a full belly and can sit and enjoy it. vegetarian sushi. i can sit and watch the time pass.
  the Time that still holds me and says in my ear “you have to use me wisely–don’t waste a minute”
  sometimes Time whispers lies in my ears–that if i am not productive, i am a waste of time. and “productive” is undefined and unattainable–always a bit more than i have done. Sometimes i yell at Time, plug my ears and rock back and forth and say “You can’t control me!” and then i stay in one position as long as possible. but that gets old. I try to make a pact with Time–promising everything as long as i get what i want–but Time never keeps pacts. it runs ahead and spins me around, and then creeps forward when i am ready to go. it never lives up to expectations, but sneaks in pieces of heaven while i am not looking–and i see them, finally, as they set in brilliant colors into the night. sometimes i have the eyes to see them. sometimes i have learned to give up control, because a watch doesn’t control–it only reveals. but there is beauty in revealing when you are not too busy trying to control.

  Airports hold a different kind of people. the glass doors only open for those with the money to buy a ticket. most of them look the part–and play with their electronic toys without lifting their eyes. others do not play along, and i can point out the Americans in international airports–their laid back assurance that flip-flops are appropriate attire for any occasion. Everyone walks fast and determinedly to their destination at the airport–and i wonder if their life day-to-day is lived with half so much direction. But anyone can play the part at the airport.

  • 9:57 am
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