A Fellow Traveller

This summer we spent no money on outdoor flowerbeds, yet had the nicest display of colour and design ever. Leftovers sent from my sister in law became the foundation, quickly stuck in before they died. A girlfriend's extra herbs and flowers were the next layer added, along with some FREE ones from the side of the street. Two ferns from the VBS rainforest display that were gifted to us became the crowning touch. All the money saved became the seed money for my Nicaraguan trip. The story of the sower and the seed that I prepared for Canadian VBS children in July was translated into Spanish in August. The song I wrote to clarify the parable's message here was what I taught in Spanish for the children in Rama. In fact, telling the story to children who lived in a rainforest where seeds grow so quickly made so much sense. As the children sat on a hard packed dirt floor and I tossed grains of rice over them, I felt like this was more like the setting where Jesus' story had fi

Gathering with retired teacher friends and colleagues felt good Friday night. Lots of stories and connections were made over tea. When I referred to being in Nicaragua just before school started, questions started flying. What were you doing there? Who did you go with? What were you teaching? When I talked about bringing Bibles for the church there, I realized they had no idea why we thought that was important. I told how we gathered the women together on two afternoons and shared two favorite verses. Our goal was to show them how to simply read, ask questions and find what was there to learn. I had worked with these women, some for ten years, yet this part of my faith life was still foreign to them. As I found myself summarizing the two verses, I told how the Nicaraguan women's eyes showed connection to the verses we shared. Women are the same worldwide and they needed to know of God's amazing love for them, even when their husbands and children didn't affirm them. They

We had our route picked out to NYC with the thruways and state highways marked. When a friend loaned us his GPS, we found ourselves following both. Although we had specific directions for the big city, it was the voice of the GPS that reassured and encouraged along the way. By the time we got home, we wondered what we would have done without it. If we had stayed on the thruways all the way home, we would have missed so much. By setting the GPS and following it through rolling hils, we travelled where we could never venture without it. Knowing that it had mapped out the best path gave us confidence to just keep following. At times we wondered how this could ever be the best way as we slowed down for small towns and twisting curves. But eventually we got back on familiar roads that led towards home. I think I need to live life with my GPS set heavenward. If I am living with a final purpose and destination in mind, then my choices and decisions will align with that big picture. Since I

My first morning back to school, I was carrying too many things. My coffee mug slipped out of my hand, cracking open and spilling coffee all over the sidewalk. My first thought of, "So much for my coffee!" was replaced with, "broken and spilled out". Where did that thought come from? Maybe this would be the way the school year would go. Now that I've completed the first day with children, I feel cracked and spilled out. Teaching a FULL class of Junior Kindergarten is exhausting enough. Teaching the Arts in the afternoon requires more giving of energy and enthusiasm to the children. Some of the behaviors seem to stem from insecurity and lack of self esteem. How will I be able to keep giving without becoming exhausted? I will need to fill my cup daily. As well as caring for my family in the evenings, I must choose to do something for ME, something that nourishes and recharges my batteries. I must make time for friends, connecting by email, phone or even going

On my last night in Nicaragua, I fell into bed and went to sleep almost immediately. I didn't realize that I wore no earplugs until I woke up. Thinking it was morning and wanting to see the sunrise, I threw on some clothes and stepped outside. That's when I realized the light shining through the curtains was man made. The sky was still dark. My watch said two and I realized it would be four in the morning at home. Sometimes I'm outside then, so this felt familiar. I wanted to see what things looked and sounded like here in the night. The sounds drew me into far corners of the yard and I kept looking up at the night sky. The clouds obstructed the stars, yet the moon was full and the planet light shone bright. The night noises reminded me of the frogs and crickets at home, yet with a different dialect. It was the same yet different. As I walked about, it felt comforting to be outside. My bed was calling and I should sleep. Maybe the next time I awoke, I could hear t

I so enjoyed going to market yesterday morning. The fresh crisp air was invigorating, and I could see the vendors setting up their produce for sale. My memory of vendors on the streets in Rama was fresh. I remembered walking along the streets, seeing families in three sided shelters, selling all sorts of things. Shopping outdoors felt more like it should be. Then I went into the grocery store to buy the rest of the food I needed. Things inside seemed so sterile and packaged. There was way too much choice and so much was processed. I saw so much of the prepared foods that are to make our lives in the kitchen easier. But what is the price we pay for convenience? After our lunches in Rama, there had been an overflowing compost bowl outside the kitchen door but little else. The chicken we had eaten had been running around the day before, the fruit probably picked or purchased from local vendors. But the streets are also littered with garbage, especially in the cities. I could see that

After enjoying a delicious meal from Bertilda's kitchen, we explored the amazing outdoors behind their homes. I only went back inside to get something from my back pack but noticed Matthea sitting in the heat at the table, looking tired. I found a paper in my pack and sat beside her at the table. Without a word being spoken, a conversation began that spanned at least five minutes. After fanning myself, I tried to fan her but she quickly stopped me, taking the paper and fanning me. Each attempt on my part was cut short as I was the guest and she wanted to serve me. As I made eye contact, she gradually allowed me to fan her. We smiled, sighed, giggled, moved our heads and I saw her start to relax. The richness of the moment made me not want to stop. As people started entering the room, we continued our conversation until finally it ended. That conversation remains with me today. Looking deep into someone's eyes says a lot about their value. Maybe I need to do more watching

My first morning back, I woke still exhausted from the week. How I wished that I could putter at home and do up the laundry. Instead, I had to be at school for teacher meetings. I found myself walking in circles, feeling overwhelmed at the day ahead. I found myself asking, " What should I do first?" A quick thought, "Open your Bible." was my answer. When my Bible fell open to Matthew 19, I read two words, "Follow me". I instantly connected to John and Tim's teaching of the weekend. It made me realize that I can only walk one step at a time. So I simply picked up one box marked SEPT START UP and headed out the door. I was hoping it had what I would need for the day. My head felt a blur as I reconnected with staff. As questions were asked, I wondered, "What words can I use?" As I needed papers, I found them in the box. As I encountered jobs, I started making lists. Then an extended family group walked into the school, wanting to change

Less than twenty four hours ago I was in Nicaraugua. I was soaking in the heat, humidity, language and culture. Now I'm getting ready to head back into school, back into the pressures and expectations of a new school year. I have been listening to life in Spanish and I'm already missing the musical qualities of it. Names now in English will sound so harsh in comparison. The world that was so real yesterday is now surreal as I begin to transition back. On the last part of the flight home, my seatmate tried to explain his business but it was like hearing another language. My only connection to his job was that I delivered the ads that he marketed in my morning paper. I'm sure he was just as puzzled when I explained my thinking about a variety of topics. The fact that I see my paper route as a way to being paid to exercise outdoors had him shaking his head. This pondering about different worlds makes me realize the different worlds between individuals all around me. Hus