Commitment and Contentment

Living life takes a certain degree of commitment. To survive in today’s economic climate, one or more family members must work a minimum number of hours to provide food and housing. From childhood, minimum attendance is measured in elementary school with emphasis on reading, writing and arithmetic, along with socialization with one’s peers. Completion of high school or college is more rigorous and has minimum course requirements and passing grades. Marriage (although statistics often measure the lack of commitment in today’s society), requires steadfast commitment, genuine love, grace, and each spouse’s benevolent desire to esteem their spouse higher than oneself. Athletic accomplishments (even for professional, naturally gifted athletes) require dedicated training, proper nutrition and hydration, adequate rest and sheer determination to finish well despite grueling pain, unpleasant weather, or obnoxious opponents.

Our pastor recently challenged each one of us to commitment in several areas. Written commitment cards and the public placement of those on the altar presently remind us that our personal faith should spill over into the lives of others, and into the local church. Those cards will no longer be prominent during the holiday season once the advent wreath and the scenery for this year’s Christmas play appear. Our corporate and individual ability to fulfill such a pledge will require faith, an unwavering dependence on Christ, and daily dying to self.

As 2009 drew to a close, I planned my goals (KRA’s in Reachglobal terminology) and knew that only a unattainable goal would push me sufficiently so as to make room in my daily life for consistent exercise. Having never run more than 5K, I chose a half marathon in late fall, and knew that discipline and the encouragement of family and friends would be necessary. Until my foot crossed the finish line (which most Garmin wearing runners faster that I would state was actually 13.3+ miles) l knew that the same focus and sheer determination that got me through hours of labor preceding each of my children’s birth would be necessary. And yes, I finished the half marathon and desire to do yet another!

Commitments that are kept bring deep contentment here on earth. A marriage with a love deeper than ever imagined; a successful career and volunteer opportunities into the end of one’s lifespan; healthy communities, organizations and churches and hope for future generations. How much greater will be the contentment in eternity?

I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings. Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. 1 Corinthians 9:23-25 (NIV)

Discarded

One year ago, I stepped foot into the slums of La Carpio. Whether one arrives by bus or car, the vista is the same as there is only one entrance and exit from this urban slum. It looks like this… The days I visit remain the same week after week, month after month. And now, instead of just glimpses of poverty and disenfranchisement, I actually recognize faces of scrap vendors, jobless youth, and even dogs who remain in the same location each time I visit the neighborhood clinic.

Some of the residents of La Carpio are now more than acquaintances, they have become friends. Women who strike up conversations at the bus stop, and then sit and chat while the bus maneuvers the congested streets of San Jose. Shop owners that greet me as I carefully purchase needed supplies at the local pulperia. Clients who visit the clinic for well woman exams or prenatal care. Employees of the clinic who share their meager breakfast and coffee with me when I arrive early.

Yet, this week, as I drove past the safer, middle-class neighborhood which ends at a local amusement park, and continued along the rubbish-strewn, deserted stretch of road linking La Carpio to San Jose, the images were even more stark. The amount of discarded trash seemed to have multiplied, the smells of burning waste intensified, and the obvious differences in living conditions magnified. Complicated lives, unheard of situations, disease, hunger, and the darkness of sin. And often, the oppressive atmosphere weighs on me until I arrive home and shower away the accumulated dust from my body and tensions that weigh on my soul.

But I have recently been reminded that sin’s vise-like grip is not only on the discarded, abandoned areas like La Carpio, but on flower-edged suburban neighborhoods, corporate boardrooms, and government edifices. Only Christ’s love can redeem all of these for His purpose.

Mustard Seeds, Rainy Season and Faith

I’ll never forget the indelible impression a tiny mustard seed encased in a sterling silver charm made on me during adolescence. My Aunt explained that she wore it because it reminded her of Jesus’ words in the New Testament referring to faith. At that time, I was only concerned with the outward appearance of the trinket itself. Now in my adult years, I am gratefully aware of the truth of Jesus’ parables spoken in the book of Matthew, chapters 13 and 17.

I’ve had several recent experiences where these parables have come alive for me and totally caught me off guard. Remember, I live several thousand miles from my designated hometown, in a culture vastly different from the one which shaped my belief system.

However, one recent rainy afternoon, as rain splattered my front windshield and obscured visibility to nothing I saw faith in action. My first thought was that the fuses which provide electrical power don’t last long here in humid Costa Rica - my dear Costa Rican friend put her faith into action, placed her hand on the windshield, prayed aloud, and continued whispering prayers to remedy the situation. In awe, I watched as the wipers sprang to life about 2 minutes later.

And I am a woman who prays often; conversationally, wherever I may be--but I have never laid hands on malfunctioning auto parts- maybe I should...

Melissa graduated!

 


Today was a special day in Costa Rica....another Reachglobal missionary graduated from ILE, the language school of choice for all of us Reachglobal Latin America folks(non-native Spanish speakers) serving here in Costa Rica, and those joining Reachglobal since 2009 headed for other countries.

It was wonderful to see all of my old professors again and to share in this event--however, as we have realized, language learning never ends!

Congratulations, Melissa!

Here today....gone tomorrow!

One may easily forget how a annual tradition for many Costa Rican citizens can directly impact life. After four weeks of ministry opportunities in Haiti and varied locations across the US, we were ready to return home and get back into a routine. Reintegrating into a slower-paced lifestyle punctuated with Spanish is now as familiar as the taste of a freshly baked Nestle's chocolate chip cookie or my favorite stateside craving, a Chik-fil-A chicken sandwich!
The first sight of people walking along the highway and Calle Vieja early one Sunday morning in late July made us wonder if there were a walk benefiting a local charity, but experience confirmed that it was the early arrival of the first of several million romeros returning for the annual La Romeria from points across Costa Rica.
The faithful pass through our tiny barrio to the old capital, Cartago where they pay homage to the patron saint, La Virgen de Los Angeles (La Negrita) in la Basilica de Los Angeles.

Larger crowds had been expected this year as government officials fearing spread of H1N1 influenza cancelled the festivities in 2009.
The last time we experienced this (2008), the kids and I hunkered down at home and made trips to the local pulperias for veggies, fruit and bread until the millions passed.

But this August 1st, Brian needed to be on the other side of town, and was scheduled to preach for both Sunday services--on the day when most pilgrims walked

right outside our front gate.
It looked like this Saturday on the hill past our town but by the time we returned Sunday many more crowded 100 meters from our gate where a Transito roadblock stopped us. We had made alternative plans should our access be denied, but a collective sigh of relief and a satisfied family contently remained inside our refuge for the next 20 hours...with occasional trips outside the gate for milk and snacks, for a glimpse at the swelling crowd; for as of 7 AM tomorrow, only the overflowing trash bins would indicate they had passed through.