Tuesday, September 18, 2012

GUATEMALA 2012: (37) Soaring on Fallen Skies

Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail.
Ralph Waldo Emerson 

Some of these days are difficult. There are more of those who doubt, question, and discourage than those who offer assistance and support. I have been surprised by so many arms that reach to hold us back rather than lift us up. But... that sounds like so much self pity, and I do not embrace that mindset.

My grand-pop once told me that "you can't stop the birds from flying over your head, but you can keep them from making a nest in your hair." These birds of doubt were introduced to the swatting swings of my arms. Our resolve has only strengthened.

The tug of our souls to Guatemala is greater than the pull of all our lives in this familiar place. Were it not so, we would not be on this path. I feel the embrace of our family and I drown in the depth of love in my mother's eyes, and I want to reassure them that we do not stand on the edge of the abyss. We are not slipping away into loss... we are falling into the will of our Father.

Yes... some of these days are difficult.

And the peace in our hearts is unmistakable. We serve the God who strengthened Sampson, floated Noah, felt the touch of a woman in a crowd, walked alongside his men in a furnace of fire, gave a boy the resolve to fall a giant, and destroyed cities with a shout. He used the stuttering to speak, the lame to walk, the blind to see, a stable as His entryway, a cross as His victory, and yes... He can even chose to use me.

So the storms will come... well sure. We all are appointed to die, but I want to hear His voice in the whisper of the wind. I want to stand in the dust after He has moved mountains. I want to see the face of blinded eyes that see and run beside broken legs that rise to stand. I long to have the kind of faith that steps out of the boat onto the raging surface of the sea. I would toss everything to the wind to just once have the kind of love that is the essence of our creator. I chase this love.

I would rather catch the gaze of Jesus under duress than be lost without him in comfort. I have seen glimpses of His presence and there is nothing... nothing to compare. 

We passed this church everyday as we made our way up the village of Labor de Falle. On the final day our bus had to stop to allow an oncoming vehicle to pass on the dirt road. I leaded out the window and quickly captured this image... and have looked at it everyday since. The intention and boldness of this building, built with unmistakable purpose, stands among block walls, razor wire, and rusted shanties. It also is held by rolling mountains, countless trees, and an endless sky. While the composition of the building is not changed by how I chose to look at it... my attitude and heart certainly bear witness.

This is so much like our lives. What we chose to see can shape who we become. Do you see the fences that hold you back and the rust that eats away... or do you see the incredible light that shines down and lets you see for miles?

There is undeniably brokenness in our lives, and yet we chose to soar on fallen skies.
Where can I go from Your Spirit?
Or where can I flee from Your presence?
 If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.
 If I take the wings of the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
 Even there Your hand shall lead me,
And Your right hand shall hold me.
 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall fall on me,”
Even the night shall be light about me...

Let our lives bear the proof of our love.

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