So today marks week one in Guatemala.
It seems contrite to say that we have experienced a lot of contrast but it's true. We have experienced it culturally, emotionally, physically, spiritually. We have gone from Guatemala City where the sports bar in the Marriott has 70 inch plasma screens and menus in English to the guest house in Comitancillo where the Mayan language Mam is clicked softly deep within the throat and there are no menus or plasma screens.
We have been ecstatic and distraught all in the same moment. We know nothing of the culture or language. Spanish looms over us like an iceberg - unavoidable, immovable; while Mam thunders in the distance. How will we learn a language that has only been written for 20 years?
We left the western comfort of Guatemala City where the TV in the hotel played Gilmore Girls in English and my credit card could buy me anything to drive in a 4x4 through the almost heavenly beauty of the western mountains where tiny, beautiful, red-brown children ran and waved. As we ascended the mountains our hearts soared at the opportunity before us: teaching grace and hope to a people who will teach us far more than we could imagine.
I have never experienced God's mercy so deeply as this past week. We have prayed for Deacon to sleep and he does. Prayed for safety and been kept safe. God has gone before us and with us and beneath us and above us and yet He has not made it easy. Easy is overrated. Hardship over glamorized. We have in this one week done nothing more than obey our Father and be sustained in our obedience.
Last night I was discouraged and tired and just plain old emotional. It was annoying. I haven't even been through that much. But God knows how much each man can take and He has given me enough. I turned to the Psalms and began to read the 92nd. I can't even remember what was in it, but as I read aloud and alone I wept as the Lord, my Father, Redeemer, Sustainer, and Counselor ministered to my soul. He whispered something to me as I read His Word and he healed me, filled me and reminded me Who He Is. There were no trumpets or lights, no earthquakes or parted seas. Just the Father, the Son and the Spirit working in the deepest part of a man in the quiet whisper of heaven.
And that was enough. And always will be enough. Forever.
And that's week one.