With a seed,

strength grows

a little at a time

and becomes the majestic Ceiba.

Love and duty.
Duty and love.
Sometimes they are very much the same.

Love is consistently performing your duty.
Duty is consistently displaying your love.

I love you
because I should
because I want to
because they are the same?

I serve you
because I should
because I want to
because I love.

I do my duty because I love.
This is balanced.

I love because it is my duty.
This is weighted.

If duty motivates me
I find myself empty and burned out.

If love motivates me
I find myself with joy flowing out.

Duty and love.
Love and duty.
While they may dance together,
one must overcome.

I´ve been thinking a lot about faith lately, trying to break down this nebulous and stretched out word into what I think it really is; which, is a fallable process in and of itself. If I had to put it into non-church-speak language, I would call it "optimism without a necessary catalyst." Or, perhaps, "belief in the positive final results."

However one is going to have faith, it must be towards some goal or purpose. There has to be something to hope for. Living in Guatemala has emphasized differences between socially reasonable things to hope for in comparison to the United States norms that exist. People here do not have many of the things viewed as necessary to survive in the States. Stoves, washing machines, air conditioners, hot water heaters, dryers, health insurance, health itself, and a variety of foods are all considered luxuries when compared to the simple fight for survival the majority of Guatemalans are faced with. When I think of people who think they are going through a major trial when their hot water heater goes out, it makes me wonder what we use our faith for. Do we think that problems won´t come if we have faith? I have been guilty of having the frame of thought that just because I have faith I shouldn´t go through problems. I knew realistically that it was not true, but that´s what many of my assumptions were based on. This emphasis, then, was on how faith can not be based on physical comfort, but on something that will not fluctuate with situations, something concrete and eternal. Sort of the "substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen" Hebrews 11:1.

Perhaps this is a beginning step for all believers along the faith journey: maturing to the point that faith is something that exists independant from one´s circumstances. Really, when I break it all down, what I ultimately have faith for is that in the end, justice will be served. I have faith that we live in a world of consequences, though some are delayed. I have faith that one day all things will be leveled. That good and evil will both receive their just rewards. Hebrews 11:6 says "But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." And, when it comes down to it, that is what I have faith for. I know that God is. I know He will reward all things eventually.

This as a framework for my life produces different motivations than a passive approach to faith where it is used as a cushy shield around my life to ward of problems. We know problems will come. This is definite and backed up by scripture. We also know that they will shape us, and that "all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose" Romans 8:28. Though that good might not be seen now, though injustice and unbalanced corrupt things thrive now, I have faith that justice is coming.

Spot The Snowflakes Christmas Card

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What have you done in 2010?
2010 has been very full of progress for me. I met many goals I thought were impossible, but worth setting. I have overcome a few fears... and uncovered a lot more things that need work that I didn't know about. One of the things Talia has helped me learn is how to appreciate the small moments in life, something I'm sure most moms could say about their children. In these photos she was literally telling me to stop and smell the roses and to "take Talia's picture with the flower!"
Something I need to work on is better documenting the little moments that I am going to miss one day. For this reason I had pretty much just these two photos available to use for our end of 2010 cards.
I ended up going with this card. I like how the rose is just ALMOST in the same position on the bottom and the top... it's as if it were cut in two for the different pictures.
May the last of 2010 have challenges you can conquer and your eyes opened to what still needs to change.

Filled with
thanksgiving,
blessings surround me.

Your
faithfulness
does not wane.

Body and soul are connected,
though longingly,
the soul anticipates.

Ever learning, inching upwards
let me come to
full knowledge...

not just rotate through
the cycle of my
opposing desires.

True thankfulness
always motivates
action.

Love fills up,
spills out and must be
demonstrated.

I am thankful.
How can I help fill
this world with thanks?

Spiraling shapes fill Guatemala:
swirls and twirls
and twisted textures...

uncurling ferns
and the bougainvillea slipping over the
twisted barbed wire.

Paths wind down the mountain,
scrolled iron work emphasizes the windows, doors
fountains with water curving down in arcs...

Textiles mimic
natures unrolling progressions
and the sleepy *caracól.

Spirals incite patience,
take a little longer to transverse
and aren't readily noticed until

seen from up high:
An intricate pattern with centrifugal purpose
moving us slowly toward the center of things.

What's in the center of your spiral?




*snail

This weekend was one for a lot of reflecting. I thought a lot about deserts. And philosophers. And the combination. Why is it common for wise men to take time to pray and fast and just be by themselves in the desert?

The discipline-control-freak in me wanted to take off for the nearest desert and figure it out. But that led to another question. Why are there so few mothers who are recognized philosophers? Have you ever heard of a mother wandering off in the desert to find herself and being in any way lauded? They are usually considered nuts who abandoned their children for selfish reasons. Maybe that is true.

As a mother I can't run away and figure out the important questions in my brain. I have to figure it out as I'm running. Sometimes, however, motherhood reminds me of a desert. There's the scorching of my selfish desires as I work towards a purer, more altruistic vision; there's the searing heat of soul-searching in order to make sure that what I am doing out of freedom won't result in bondage for my child down the road; the thirst is palpable... thirst for knowledge, thirst for guidance, thirst for the best way to do everything because each small detail can make a big impact. Sometimes desert snakes startle me. Sometimes dust storms blind me. Sometimes I feel like it will be a 40 year journey and I will murmur and complain and never figure out how to mature, like many of the children of Israel. But, every once in a while, I find an oasis and see a leaner, more self-disciplined, reflection of a person with Living-Water-tuned-senses that is slowly shaping.

If motherhood can be like a desert, surely righteous children are as worth it as a Promised Land.

Luciérnagas son
brillantes en la noche.
Esperanza dan.

When depression,
black ghoul,
rears its head
at my soul

On the wings of
The Word
would I fly.

When the dank
tendrils creep
'round the soles
of faith's feet

'Neath the shadow've
His wings
rejoice I.

When my will
is so weak
that I fall
at His feet

In the cleft of
The Rock
let me hide.

When out breaks,
the sun
forcing the dark
to run

It is well,
I will say,
at thy side.

The mountain trembles
from its basin-planted feet
up to its peaks.

The sky sporadically
explodes
in multi-colored glee.

I am grateful
for the chill
and the excitement...

Glad to be experiencing
the bombs of festivity,
not war.

If you and I disagree enough
we might come full circle
and misunderstand
our mis-
under-
standing

this unreliable constant.

A centrifugal emotional whirl
of mental surety
and emotional instability

and other languages.

We communicate around
and at
each other
but rarely with.

Maybe next time
I'll just hold your hand.

Textiles in every
visible color
and patterns
-structured chaos
into useful beauty;
These things are inspiring.

Continued steps
with long-expired desire
and soles
and still finding room
in your tired self to smile;
This is strength.

Human relationships
treasured, grasped
though unaffordable
with trust's
bounced check;
Relational endurance.

Heritage-focused
unfashionable pride
finding beauty
in ancient and
unique;
Self-security.

Third world:
in money
First class:
in riches
mixed with good and ugly;
Guatemala, abiding.

How glorious was the morning
in your eyes
unburdened by the weight of reality.

The adventure was brimming,
overflowing your cup
of Satisfaction.

How noble the noontime
acceptance of responsibility.

Your shoulders broader
and yet the still managed
to be full of new things.

I don't understand you,
in this tandem swirl-
always at the other end of extreme.

How is the evening?

My country 'tis of thee
a land in
death convulsing
of thee I weep.

Land of great moral strife
debt-choked
lie-hypnotized
for thee I weep.

To relinquish heart's hold
on thee,
Prepare for my new Country
I am so weak.

Thy transformation
I prefer-
hope has yet
to cease.

weather lies

When the lies of men
gather in
like hurricanes in September...
and truth goes marching on
by

When probabilities
are said as certainties,
storm-sheltered
you remember "blue
skies"

When life and chance
and circumstance
mix rain with
no umbrella
-sigh-

Will you waterproof your heart,
put up your guard
or
live with heart still open,
alight?

Que no me traicione la luna
tan fuerte, brillante y tramposa.
Se esconde las veces que más la necesito.

El camino de la vida
lleva mucho polvo de los sueños rotos.
Polvo que sube al aire después de que camino
en las piedrecitas que perduran
de las esperanzas.

En aquellos momentos,
dentro de una nube de ese polvo,
y con pies en el lodo de lagrimas
necesito más la luna
-aquello celestial-
para recordarme
que existe algo más que yo
y cosas rotas...

existe luz, sencillez y
mundos fuera de mi alcance.

Entonces, paro por un momento.
Dejo que la nube, otra vez
descanse...

y veo, con paciencia, al cielo
con ojos fieles y fijos

Poco a poco,
la calma, la luz
me asegura otra vez que

con algo celestial, fijo,
que queda sin cambiar
por el humor de los hombres
que el polvo no importa

porque veo como brilla

la luna

la cual es hecha
de polvo también.

Your expectations are weighing me
down.
You don´t know that mine are just as heavy
of myself.

Two burdens, I can´t carry.

You, with your complaints and demands,
will have to go to my Boss.
I carry His first...
and if He places yours on my heart-
with pleasure,
I will carry yours too.

In a contest between
peace
and
quiet

My mind would always choose peace.

But that
external
and
internal conflict

Make my actions say otherwise.

Could you
make my actions say otherwise?

When does an external force
bring about internal change
that in return
is demonstrated?

Where is the line between
purification
and
extermination?

And, who can win?

free falling
freedom to fail-
Baby, I can't have illusions
of keeping you safe.

I only have as much power
as I choose to release
and there's so much more
that I can't control.

safety isn't within my reach...
but training to cope
and thrive
amidst disaster or success equally

that is my desire.

children

The first time
I thought I held it
but it was only a shadow-
It had lines and definition
perfectly human
rational emotion
detailed generalization
and blatant implications.
Her name was Goodbye.

The second, I held.
Our spittin' image,
since we were made from spit
way back when soft sunlight
drove away the cold night,
crumpled it with laughter-
conquered it with peace.

The first days were
overwhelming
but every spell of cold
would force my head up
and I would say
"I can do this" and
It was never as hard
as I'd imagined.

Redefinition comes with
accomplishment;
I am a dreamer
a future liver
but it's not without fear
and it's not without want.

Everyone has a piece in them
that wants to be a king:
Command the cold away.
A piece that's into
poetic license and control...
or poetry's into them.

So we hold the fire,
without it we'll be cold
but holding it burns
and we must decide:
That hurting is worth
the warmth.