El Señor me pastorea...

nada me faltará.

El me ha colcado en lugar de pastos;

me ha conducido junto a unas aguas que restauran

y recrean.

Convirtió a mi alma.

Me ha conducido por los senderos de la justicia,

para gloria su Nombre.

Salmo XXII

Mornings Like This

I leaned over the metallic sink,

a slimy mango heart in my hands and on my cheeks.

The sweetness seeping into my senses,

the awareness that this grew so close, in the same air I breathe.

The teachers are striking and at this point and

the next sight of school isn't until June.

So here he is, my morning friend, poking his head

through the window, a broomstick blooming beside him.

A few pesos in the meantime, she passes to him

while telling me she has secrets to imbed in my youth.

I lean at my hips a little more, pressed against the counter

to save every drop of mango from the sink floor.

This fruit grew and died here, in the same earth in walk,

among the thick, wonted song of our bird neighbors,

under the same golden sun on my eyelashes, which swims to the middle of the sky.

I always want to remember mornings like this.

No Answers

"And forgive us our debts,

as we forgive our debtors."

Matthew 16:24

I don't have any answers right now.

I had a great weekend with babies and ancient México and The Virgin of Guadalupe.

But this morning, like many before it, and I'm sure many to come, I find mostly questions.

God has given me a lot of nice reminders.

Gently, like a Father, He points again and again to the things I should know,

the things which should be so ingrained in me, that I exude them without trying.

But just last week I was praying for help to pray.

This is the foundation for my relationship.

I felt like the rug was being pulled from under me.

I need lots of help to love, to forgive.

Things I want to be so ingrained in me that I exude them and glorify God.

So He saw my need, knew it before I asked, and pointed in His Word.

"Now about brotherly love we do not need to write you,

for you yourselves have been taught by God

to love each other."

1Thessalonians4:9

I don't have any answers, the book of perfection is not in me. But what a great example.

God leads me step by step.

Today I am writing, not from a zenith of realization, but from the bottom of the hike.

I have questions inside me, questions which throw their selves around like lions fighting.

What I've done to pacify them this far is love and forgive. I still think that's most important.

But there comes a time to understand.

Daily I am confronted with the dark past I accept as a Christian.

People have done such horrible things in the name of God, and I take those things on in my history, because I'm not perfect either. I forgive those people and I love them, my ancestors.

But multiple times a day, I have to see the hurt in people's lives, caused by a misrepresentation of my God, who hurts too.

Daily I study the history of people and how organized religion was so far off track.

I look all around the case for signs of God making good out of His people's mistakes.

I accept that my people were corrupt and wrong, but I love them and forgive them.

How else can I understand?

What can I know to undo the wrong in my friend's lives?

Basically: how can I turn around the history of the world a make it all better... right?

I'm starting at the bottom.

At prayer.

I really won't be able to do anything - but God.

Always, always, always - but God.

So I'm starting with Him, praying and loving and learning.

I have no idea where I am going to go with this, but I'm documenting the start.

(Thanks to my friend John Thompson for this picture. Méxicans sticking to their roots.)

Cada Día; Te Niego

Cuernavaca,

I am falling in love with you.

The life you display in your pain. The life you've made out of nothing.

Still, I deny you every day. You ask me to buy one of your necklaces, which could probably mean dinner - and I don't. I don't want things and I don't have money.

But I am wealthy, because I sit and read and sip in the name of education, while you find me at my outdoor café table. And you ask me to buy a painting, or a package of gum. But I deny you.

I am wealthy in experience and love, and still I have something more. Better than money are my prayers. Because I only spent a dollar on this coffee, and 60 cents on the bus. Between the two of us, we've got so little things, and so much faith.

I know your faith. I know your conquered hearts and I see your accepting brow. I know you might even have more faith than I do. I've seen more love in you, than on the streets of Paris.

Cuernavaca, you always smile. You have the flowers and the sun and your neighbors. There is art and love in every plastic street stand.

We rode the bus for fifteen minutes and the whole time you only played one chord on the guitar, your song had no words. And there was more love than I'd ever heard. So I paid for your bus ride, an investment, I know.

I'm sorry. I wish I could help more. But what you don't see is the castle I'm building every day I deny you - every time I pray.

No One Greater

"When God made his promise to Abraham,

since there was no one greater for Him to swear by,

He swore by Himself."

Hebrews 6:13

This is the God we have.

The God who knows us.

The Greatest of all.

"When Christ came as high priest 

of the good things that are already here,

he went through the greater and more perfect tabernacle

that is not man-made, 

that is to say, no a part of this creation.

He did not enter by means of the blood of goats and calves,

but he entered the Most Holy Place 

ONCE FOR ALL,

BY HIS OWN BLOOD."

Hebrews 9:11-12

This is our God's Son.

The only son, the only saviour,

who did everything he did,

to be perfect for us.

"Men swear by someone greater than themselves,

and the oath confirms what is said and puts an end to all argument.

...

We have this hope, as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure."

Hebrews 6:16,19

This morning I am amazed

at the greatness of our God.

May we all be amazed,

every day we live.

Sra. Ignacia

Off the beaten track; the best description of yesterday in México.

Our primary destination was Chalcatzingo, an ancient site of the Olmec people,

nestled between two large and very steep peaks, not quite full mountains their selves.

The carvings on this site were discovered in 1930, by little boys while playing on the peaks.

We drove through a tiny village on what was barely a road to climb and explore.

We saw many carvings that represented Olmec gods of fertility, rain

and their origination from the jaguar god.

We also met our first "amate amarillo."

The amate tree covers the state of Morelos, its paper was often used for writing and paintings.

This special kind of amate has striking yellow bark and engulfing branches.

After Chalcatzingo, we went in search of some "exconventos."

These churches were built by Native Méxicans, under the supervision of

Spanish Catholic priests, therefore they all portray the same European style.

On our way, we met Sra. Ignacia, the star of the day.

Sra. Ignacia handweaves wool ponchos, blankets and purses

from her own sheep.

She invited us off the streets of the zócalo, and into her home.

We met her three daughters and one grandson.

Chickens and roosters roamed the house,

much to the jealousy of the geese in their cage

next to Leonardo, and a horse made his presence known from 20 feet away.

I am humbled by their simplicity and

lack of reliance on modern commodities.

Brett bought a poncho from Sra. Ignacia, and Kate a purse.

I always want to remember this little town,

happily forgotten by the rest of the world,

hidden among chains of volcano mountains.

(Pictures courtesy of my sweet roommate, Kate.)