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Fifty- nine years ago tonight my Uncle Bill Lester was spending the night with my dad, who was to be the Best Man at his wedding the next day. It would be a Sunday afternoon wedding. Bill Lester was marrying “his girl”, and a girl he loved and cherished for all of their marriage. They started out with nothing except God and love for one another. It worked. It was not always easy – but it worked…for 59 years.

Uncle Bill called this morning to tell me where he was (with my dad) 59 years ago today. And he also told me this story. He and Aunt Margie were engaged. He was in Basic Training at Fort Knox; she was a high school senior. He missed her senior prom. When it came time for the senior trip to Chicago, Aunt Margie wrote Uncle Bill and asked his opinion of whether or not she should go. He wrote back that he was certain that she should NOT go.
The next correspondence he received from her was a card from Chicago. He laughed as he shared the story this morning…and what I heard is what I witnessed for all of my life: They were each true to being their own person while equally faithful to one another. They had many disagreements, but their honoring of one another was alwasy stronger than any other gain.

Aunt Margie made her transition to heaven last year. We celebrated her life. I celebrate the love that she and Uncle Bill shared. It was not always easy – but they were able, by the grace of God, to weather the hard times, respect one another enough to keep living fully and at all times to give God room to reign in their lives together. It’s a love story… and it is written day by day, month after month…year after year. What love story are you writing?

There is no wildlife on the pond this morning…only ice. The reeds are still and cold. The edges of the water sticky against the grass.  The ducks and geese have chosen a different location for their morning chat.  They are using Plan B. I wonder where it is? I wonder if they flew in this morning and saw the conditions…then chose another way…like the Wise Men.  Or are they here and I cannot see them….nestled in the brush all huddled together for warmth…waiting for the thaw. 

Maybe they were here early…dancing on the ice…slipping and falling because they are better at swimming than dancing.  Yes… busting their feathers then jumping up to fly off  with bruises and joy for the good time!  Probably so. Sometimes conditions change and a new approach is required. You have to make the most of it – embrace the moment and see what happens.  So ducks and geese fly off in reckless abandon this morning….with joy on their wings.  And maybe gratitude that something has changed, even if it involved some bruises.  

Yesterday was the celebration of independence here in Guatemala and other Central American countries.  The bands began the day before and even continue this morning.  I walked my way into the sea of people yesterday and tried to blend in which is a ridiculous attempt when you are “white”…but the people are so gracious and I was fine.

I watched the children in mayan dress with their eyes wide open and hearts full of anticipation. The students processed in uniforms, costumes and dreams….all displaying the expressions of honor, respect and love of their country.  I could feel their dreams in the sounds of the trumpets, their strength in the beating of the drums and their joy in the bells. I prayed for the opportunities of their futures.

So this morning my reading is from Revelation and the verses 21:24-25 tickled my ears.  It is a vision of the “Holy Jerusalem” and the parade of the nations.  “Its gates will never be shut by day and there will be no night there.  People will bring into it the glory and the honor of the nations.”

What we do on earth can give us a glimpse of what we will experience in heaven.  The difference is that the boundaries of our individual countries will be no longer.  The gates will be open – the tribes will be welcomed. I won’t stand out as “white” and we will all be sounding our trumpets and dancing to give our Creator honor and glory.  I really enjoyed the celebration yesterday and it gave me a little bit bigger picture of the parade in Jerusalem to come.   God speaks in mysterious ways.

Once when I was leading the EMS (Emergency Medical Services)  system for our County I came into the office and a big sign had been posted on the door by one of the EMT´s. It said, ¨the only person who likes change is a wet diaper.¨  (I am working from a spanish keyboard so excuse any loss of punctuation). Maybe it is obvious that I, as leader, had just initiated a change.  Thankfully we worked under an environment of great respect and fun so although the sign made me mad, it also made me laugh…because it is TRUE! It helped that the person who did it was a former partner on the ambulance and a dear friend!

So it IS true and in fact, I am surprised when even good change feels uncomfortable. I am a change agent. And even change agents take a deep breath when we see it coming….uh oh…there is going to be a change!  In Gautemala, my experience is that change happens at least five to ten times a day.  We begin with one plan…we morph quickly into another…and another…and another.  But in the end, I am finding that it all works out for the best.  Margaret Wheatley is an author I respect. I think it was her writing that first suggested to me that we need to be like water…strong, ever changing, ever adjusting and free to navigate around all that we encounter as we flow faithfully and boldly along.  I like the thought of being like water.

I wonder if Jesus was saying something like that when he spoke of the ¨Living water¨?  Living water never runs dry. Living water doesn´t worry about the rocks it encounters…in fact the rocks are transformed from the faithful persisitence of the water´s flow.  Living water never asks you to return over and over again because it is consistently abundant.  Hmmmmm…..

Today I have landed in Xela on my way to a camp north of Chichicastenango. Doris (the VIM Coordinator of Guatemala) has arranged for meet to have an early meeting with the children of Quiche, and an afternoon meeting with the children of all other areas.  These are children that people from our church have ¨sponsored¨.   This means a financial commitment has been made to keep a child in school this year.  One of the children that is receiving a scholarship wrote a thank you note into my journal yesterday so I can share it with the couple who sponsored him.  In the note, the spanish word used is ¨godfather¨. ….¨thank you for being my godfather.¨ That word scared me when I read it…what does this mean?? I asked Julia, our translator.  I learned..this means you care enough about me to provide a way for my future this year.  How humbling is that?

So many people have been ¨godfather or godmother¨ to me in some way during my life.  I pray that every child always has a sense that someone (parents, other family members, friends, SS teachers, whomever!) cares enough about their future to offer a prayer of hope, a word of encouragement, or even something like a ¨scholarship¨ when the need arises.

Cambio….change. Let it be. And let me be like water.  And if that can be living water…I am on my knees giving thanks.

Early morning moon
you shine strong though night
has long since past
Your witness to the rhythms of the
earth and sky
rising and setting
visible and invisible
hidden and revealed.

Soon we return.
I return
Land of language and color
Land of los niños and coffee trees
mangoes and plantains
dirt and violence
hunger and despair
Love and joy
hidden and revealed
in the rhythms of life
of human beings breathing in
and out in the place
of their planting.

Leaving and returning
coming and going
between here and there
The holy rhythms of faithfulness
to a God that calls from
both places with a  sharp
voice and Light that shines
too bright to ignore.
Like the moon, even after
night has long since past.

Vona Rose Wilson
Febraury 9, 2012