Time for home

Wow. This finale has been a wonderful time. From Placencia (see Tori’s last blog entry) we drove for Honduras, stopping for a night at Rio Dulce again. Thank God for two more trouble-free border crossings in as many days. In Honduras we went to Loma de Luz Hospital, where I worked for a couple weeks last November. Our family got to see the hospital and meet the missionaries there. They’re a wonderful bunch of people doing a great work. Pray for them (and for their water supply during this dry time).

The following day, driving in Central America finally demanded a (small) price. Or at least, a beefy, hot-headed cop in La Ceiba did. My driving was fine, at least right then. But we figure he noticed our Guatemala plates and caught a glimpse of the extranjeros inside, and couldn’t resist. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, my Spanish was good enough to communicate with him... so after I emptied my wallet of all its Limpiras (175 of them, or about $10) to get my license back, we were on our way to the ferry.

We made it to one of those incredible beaches you see in travel magazines, on the island of Roatan. It’s an amazing paradise, but some of us are still wondering if it was worth the ferry ride, which made Hell’s Gate at the PNE feel like a see-saw at a child’s playground. It was funny at first, especially when the attendants handed out barf bags. But after 30 minutes, with the ups and downs becoming more dramatic and some people on the ferry starting to use the bags, it wasn’t so funny. After 60 minutes, we were all very green and very quiet. After 90 minutes, stomachs miraculously unemptied, we were so thankful to see land that even Annacis Island would have seemed like paradise.

Any earthly paradise has its limitations. Like sand flea bites. Or worse, the sting of a spotted scorpion fish. This was definitely a case of Jeff’s curiosity outperforming his common sense. I had to touch the thing... How was I to know it might have venom in the spines of the dorsal fin that suddenly sprang up? But oohhh, the intense pain—not to mention bleeding, swelling, redness, and even numbness—taught me that he deserved much more respect than I gave him. (For those of you who are wondering, hot water helps, as it does for the sting of jellyfish or stingrays.) Snorkelling just off the beach was like swimming amidst a million unbelievable, colorful things in God’s massive clear blue aquarium.

So we're on our way home. Of course, we’ve picked up a few curios, some coffee, and a few other things to bring along. As we were driving away from Antigua two weeks ago, Hannah had a great idea: “I think we should bring home some time from Guatemala.” I laughed, and the thought has not left me.

Why is there more time here? Truthfully, I’m not sure. Partly, we left our usual busy-ness and expectations at home. But there’s more.

While I was chatting with Fernando (the director of SI Guatemala) one day, he remarked at hearing something about us North Americans: We have a “good day” when we accomplish much. Of course, being so task-oriented has helped us make wonderful advances. But I’m afraid that there are too many times when I’ve allowed relationship to take a back seat while I serve the task. And what do I have, if not relationship?

Well, I have gotten a bit reflective at the end here, what did you expect?

We thank you all once again, for your prayers, encouragement and support, your donations, and above all, for your friendship. We hope to bring home some time for all of you.

What other pearls will we bring home? I’ll speak at least for myself:

Relationship outranks accomplishment.

“Look but don’t touch” applies to scorpion fish.

Life is about generous Love, and little else.

We're in Belize!

Tori here.
We left Antigua early Friday morning, and stopped for a coffee at McCafe in Guatemala City. I had a chai tea latte, the first in over three months, and it reminded me so much of home, and how much I miss things like chai tea lattes that I almost started tearing up.

We reached Rio Dulce, and found a little sign for the Tijax (TEE-hash), the place our landlord had recommended. We entered into a small road, leading farther and farther away from the main road. We came to a gate, and then went even farther. (By this time, we were beginning to doubt our landlord’s judgement.) We came to a parking area, and then had to walk across a very long, twisty, and bouncy boardwalk to get to the actual place. We were quite nervous what to expect, but were pleasantly surprised. It even had a pool and air-conditioning in the cabanas, which was essential in the incredible heat. It was the hottest, most humid place I have ever been, I think. There have been a few of those on this journey. After checking in, we went to see the San Felipe Castillo, which I enjoyed very much. We explored for an hour or so, until everyone was dizzy with the heat. (We also concluded that the people that used the castle must have been quite small, as some of the passageways could barely contain one from our family.)

After coming back, we had a refreshing swim, a tolerable meal, and an air-conditioned sleep. The next morning we got up early to do a tour along the river. We saw some interesting birds and many mangrove trees (which I thought before was supposed to say ‘mango grove’, not ‘mangrove’). We also saw thick, rainforest-type jungles, and the people who lived on the river in the jungle. We saw a town called Livingston, which doesn’t have much to it, but my mom got her hair braided and we helped some people load up their boat there. On the way back we went to a seafood restaurant and ate some delicious shrimp and a fish that looked like it went straight from the river to the frying pan.

After we got back, we left straight for Tikal. On reaching the national park entrance, we heard a very strange noise. The guard there told us it was the howler monkeys! So we all got out of the car to watch and listen. In fact, in Tikal we saw many different types of jungle wildlife. In our hotel room (which was, unfortunately, NOT air-conditioned... and also recommended by our landlord, come to think of it) there was a scorpion. Yes, a scorpion. Aaron discovered it by trying to kill a bug on the curtain. Instead, a scorpion fell out! My dad came and killed it, and afterward I was teased for all my screaming and whatnot.

Bright and early in the morning, at about six, we entered the park. We had been advised to go early, since the afternoon heat is unbearable. Also, you are more likely to see animals in the morning. Only about thirty seconds after entering we saw some monkey-possum-raccoon-anteater type creatures. They were so cute. We spent the morning exploring Mayan ruins, which were very interesting—and large. The tallest was about 70m! We climbed all available for climbing, excepting my mom. On one there was a water bottle incident. Everybody was egging Hannah on to throw an empty one off the top, and try to reach the Grand Plaza instead of letting it be stuck on the tower. Aaron ended up throwing it, and it did in fact land on the tower. Eventually the wind blew it down and we triumphantly threw it in the garbage, where it belonged. My mom let everyone know that she was right in telling us not to. We had a great laugh at some of the faulty English on the brochures and signs. Some more wildlife we saw included Toucans, another type of bird that makes weird hanging nests, wild turkeys, and army ants. Aaron and Hannah also claim to have spotted a spider monkey—twice—but I have my doubts. We did not see any jaguars.

We left Tikal a day earlier than expected, due to the air-conditioning situation, and headed straight for Belize after a quick canopy tour—zip lines through the trees, very fun. We had changed our plans. Originally, we were going to drive down to Puerto Barrios, take a boat, and then a bus to our place in Belize, but we decided to drive straight on through the border and have an extra day in Placencia. However, the border took much longer than expected. We had to unload all our bags to be checked. After all was done and we were through, we were astonished at the immediate change of atmosphere from Guatemala to Belize. Guatemala does seem quite third world, but as soon as we crossed it felt much more small-town America. However, Belize has its share of poverty. In Placencia, we expected it to be very quaint and touristy. In fact, as my mom says, it is quite dumpy. There is however a very cute gelato place here. We have gone twice already and will definitely go again; it’s so good—even better than Gelato Gelato in Abbotsford. Our place here (for this is where I am as I type) is very very nice, apart from the fact that the air-conditioning doesn’t work as well as expected. As you can see, air-conditioning is quite vital to me in this climate. There was a severe lightning storm our first night, so the ocean isn’t as green as we would like, it is rather a brownish color. But it is starting to clear up. Now, as I type, the prospect out the window is very beautiful.
Unfortunately, our beach is inhabited by jellyfish, stingrays, and turtle grass (seaweed). Aaron and I have been stung by jellyfish, and my dad was maybe stung by a stingray, since it seemed worse than our stings. They hurt a lot! We also have some frequent human visitors, who swim and catch crabs on our dock (despite the ‘no crabing’ sign—more faulty English). Yesterday we walked along the shore in search of a less occupied beach. We found one with barely any turtle grass and no apparent animals. It did have a strange type of muddy, gooey black sand, though. A war broke out in which all the kids (but me) and my dad threw it on each other.

Tomorrow we leave for the hospital in Honduras my dad worked at in November. After that, we go to Roatan, an island off the coast of Honduras. Then it’s back to Antigua for a day or two before our flight home on June 19.

Bye bye Antigua, holidays here we come!

We're almost our of our house!
The sleepy morning dogs lying in groups along the sidewalks, the men doubling on bicycle, and kids tripling on the way to school, and the women walking with bright bowls on their heads, greeting people with a friendly "Buenas días", all helped me enjoy one of our last mornings here.
The last couple of weeks have been a great time of serving and fellowship together with the staff here. Many of them are relatively new here: pray for them in their roles as they have already started hosting the many summer teams. We've experienced God's grace and kindness in amazing ways here.
The earthquake that woke most of the family Friday night was centred in the Carribean near our planned journey. Pray for the few people who lost loved ones and more who lost homes. Things have settled, and appear to be as safe as usual for travel. We appreciate your prayers as always!

Good News

Thank God our car is running fine (although there is that one noise...). Our missionary friends Tommy and Marilyn from Texas are going to buy it!



Doña Dorotea has seen a general surgeon about eventually getting treatment for her skin cancer. On the same day we discovered two other ladies with skin cancer at Casa Maria! I excised one, and the other one (on the lady's nose) will be managed by a plastic surgeon which will be handled through the wonderful private Catholic charity hospital here in Antigua, Hermano Pedro.

Julia, the elderly lady who needs the hip revision, will hopefully see a visiting American orthopedic surgeon in the next few weeks.



Also, thank God the little premie twins, Antonio and Ariceli, are thriving under the wonderful care of their loving extended family. And thanks also for the donated formula which was a timely gift that arrived with the Canadian team. This family was so kind in having a few of us SI staff over for a wonderful lunch of the most delicious pepian I have tasted yet! (Pepian is a kind of sauce or stew, a--or should I say the--Guatemalan specialty, especially in Magdalena. It has dozens of ingredients and takes an immense amount of work to make. This was one of those humbling "missionary moments" where you just really feel blessed.)

Justin has finished his time with me. It's been fun to be a friend and mentor over the past few weeks. I've enjoyed that part of my role here quite a bit.

This being our last week here, we have enough going on to "keep us busy"... but I'll save my ramblings on that for another time! I'm pretty sure I will be able to get Tori to do the next blog entry, which will be refreshing for us all. We are having a great time getting together with our new friends here.

We're doing fine without our turtles, but miss our cat Louie and our dog Charlie back home! It sounds like they are being cared for so well they may not want to come home! But we miss all our friends more.

Thank you all so much for your prayers. God is listening!

Follow Up

We could have called this blog “treading water”, which is what we’re doing in the new photo (finally!) at the top of our blog. It could also be representative of what it sometimes feels like we’re doing here—hanging in there for the remainder of our time here.

We had a great time at Semuc Champey, where beautiful natural pools of clear water are perpetuated by limestone deposition. Our accommodation was fun, but despite Tori’s strategy, the bed bugs did bite.

It was a challenging drive in and out, and the car made it fine. However, now it’s back in the shop again. Nothing serious... we’re praying that it will be reliable for our trip, and that we’ll be able to sell it before we leave in June.

This morning I finally got to go mountain biking in Guatemala! It was raining, so it made me feel quite at home. Rainy season is certainly here, bringing showers—and often lightning and thunder—nearly every afternoon or evening. Fortunately most mornings are still clear (today being an exception of course!).

Getting our visas extended was another fiasco. The requirements were not set out clearly, particularly for kids... You couldn’t really know exactly what they want until trying to submit the application. However, there wasn’t anything a nearby lawyer in a shady office couldn’t fix... this time just the office was shady, not the lawyer.

Tori, Aaron, Hannah, and Matthew delivered some of the gifts for the kids at Colegio Monroy last week. The children there are thrilled with their new skipping ropes, balls, books and especially games that they can now play with at school. Our kids will be bringing similar things to the El Gorrión school next week, thanks to the generosity of all the Bridge Kids!

It was great to spend time with Phil and Judy Bergen’s Love Guatemala team here. (There’s a link to their blog on this page.) We partnered with Casa Shalom Orphanage, serving quite a few people at a clinic we held there. Terri got to share with the nurses at Casa Maria (home for the elderly). On the same day, I was finally able to do a biopsy on the large wound Doña Dorotea has had for a long time. (See the picture which was taken early in our time here. Or don’t!) It confirmed my suspicions of skin cancer. Please pray for her as we try to find a workable treatment for her—there are no plastic surgeons to do skin grafting at the national hospital.

This is a typical frustration here. For example, Maria, the elderly lady with the fractured hip I mentioned before, was never offered any treatment for a variety of reasons, and was eventually taken home by her son. A precious 63 year old woman with endometrial cancer presented to the Magdalena clinic with pain and bleeding from her endometrial cancer. The national cancer service is able to diagnose, but the treatments are just too expensive for her caring family, who will have to look after her at home as well. Julia is a beautiful old lady who has been unable to walk because of pain in her leg since she her hip repair over a year ago. This week we brought her to the national hospital for some X-rays, which showed that the prosthetic was loose. The chances of her getting a revision surgery on this joint are pretty slim. Justin, a Trinity Western student, and I visited some premature twins and their family in their home in Magdalena. The babies were born at around 32 weeks, and were discharged after little more than two weeks in hospital. Thank God they’re doing well, and pray for their health as they are still very vulnerable.

Other follow-up: Rosa’s little grand-niece Marixa is doing well, now drinking donated formula. Rosa herself is also improved and will hopefully be able to avoid surgery, taking medicine we were able to buy with donated funds. Her brother Carlos (Marixa’s grandfather) who had been bed-ridden after an accident, was back to work at least part-time, last time I saw him. Brablio, the fellow with the strange attacks, has only had very minor episodes compared to prior. Thank God, because I don’t think he’s being compliant with his medicine, but we did pray for him!

Our turtles are no more. Sam escaped a few days after Ella’s traumatic death.

Once again, thank you all for your love and support. Pray that God continues to accomplish what He wants to during our last two weeks here before we leave on our road trip!

Post-vacation

Our car broke down yesterday. Again. We thought it was all fixed up, but I guess not. We had been shopping with the money the kids had saved up before coming to Guatemala, and the money that Bridge Kids from our church had donated, to buy things for the two schools they’ve helped at.

So there we were, stuck on the busy highway between Guatemala City and San Lucas on our way back to Antigua, as the rain and darkness set in. Thank God the engine died just in time so that we were somehow (!) able to pull a few feet over on a driveway instead of being stuck on the “shoulder”. (There’s only two feet of pavement between the edge of the lane and the sharp drop into the trench at the side of the road.)

We made a few phone calls for help. Yeah Yuri!! After towing the car to the safety of their home, he drove us and our baggage to our home. Of course he wouldn’t take anything for it: “That’s what brothers do”, he said.

I love that. For the same reason, Joyce, Julia, and Zach said “sure, we’ll varnish the new shelf at the clinic instead of hanging out in Antigua.” And Bonnie and the kids put the second coat on the next day. And Phil & Judy are down here with the Love Guatemala team to help wherever they can. And Fernando, and Seth, went to the city with a poor Gringo like me to help get some business done. And Nic, Ramon, and Marcos went to visit Oscar in the hospital when he wasn’t feeling well. And so many of you are praying for us. And, and, and...

Last week I had an Abba moment. (No, I wasn’t the Dancing Queen. I mean Abba Father, Daddy.) I was reading a book Bonnie passed on to me.* I realized, again, that God LOVES me. I realized that discovering this truth in some amazing palpable way has been the most significant, life changing thing in my entire walk with Jesus.

I got up to go outside, and appreciate it over again. We were on vacation at Lake Atitlan. It’s beautiful. I sat on a rock overlooking the volcano and lake, and His love obliterated everything for a few minutes. I discovered (He revealed to me) that the desires of my heart, that I had expressed to Him just a few days earlier, could be realized by a life flooded in this TRUTH.

...Then I noticed the bananas growing, and the old man walking down the road in his white striped knee-length pants and cowboy hat, and the rest of my surroundings returning. That's how it is. Our Father’s love is there every morning, but it only arrests us occasionally. Like being in a new culture, some things are incredible, until you've been around them for a while.

I think sometimes our spiritual lives are impoverished by a god whose love is routine. God's is NOT. When our hearts are awakened by his indiscriminate acceptance of us, his warm affectionate embrace, his bizarre and complete approval of us, his own orphan-adopted children... our everyday lives become transformed, marked by such a generous, reckless love that could only have its origins in something (Someone) completely Divine. Father, mark my life with your generous Love! (*I’d like to recommend this quick little book that I found very profound: The Furious Longing of God, by Brennan Manning.)

Thank God for ongoing safety and guidance. Pray for our car, as it’s needed for some things we are hoping to do with the Love Guatemala team, amongst other things. And you could pray that we’ll hang in there for our last month here. We’re all still doing pretty well. We’re getting out to help at sites, or to get together with other people around here. Hannah gets to Skype with some friends and generally likes it here. Aaron & Matt like to play gamecube/DS but sometimes need more to do (or maybe just need separate rooms?). Bonnie needs less to do—laundry & cooking take up most of the day without all the modern amenities—but is an amazing support for all of us. Tori’s beginning to wonder who she is. Pray for the staff here, and the Love Guatemala team that’s here this week: for God’s love and joy and health to be with them all. Although there are no officially confirmed cases in Guatemala, the swine flu is throwing a bug into some things here.
(Oh yeah, and pray for those Canucks too!)

PS our pics (especially of Lake Atitlan)are at: http://picasaweb.google.com/jkornelsen

This is Guatemala

The hot, humid, pungent smell of fresh fish catches you the moment you open your car door at the fish market. The heap of snapper and corbina bass, the aggressive invitations to buy from each vendor, the friendly bartering, the fresh squid being shown off by the seven year old who can clean them almost as quickly as his dad... the old fridges, lying on their backs, rusting at the edges, filled with ice and the fresh catch of the day... the bare hands being used to eat while grabbing fish and plopping it into the same tin pan that weighed everything else... they all confirm it: This is not North America.

We had a good day in El Gorrión Thursday. Tori, Aaron, Hannah, and Matthew helped at the public school there. Bonnie and I worked in the clinic which we are now doing every week in this village. Bonnie’s a great enfermera (nurse). We cared and prayed for a 36 year old single mom of seven children, who came in with her four year old grandson. Not surprisingly she is struggling with feeding and clothing her family. It’s all too common a story here in Guatemala.

That same afternoon our new credit cards arrived—a miracle! The whole story could take pages, and you might not believe it anyway. (If you’d like to read a little more, it’s the last entry below.)
The other day I went the wrong way down a “one way”. It’s okay, it was only a block. People do that here—like the two bare-headed policemen flying down the street on their motorbike. Oh well, this is Guatemala: As Aaron says, “una via” is more of a “guideline”. Una via and alto signs are stuck to the side of buildings here, and they might be on the left or right, so you need to watch close!
Bicycles are fun. Somebody has flooded the market with cheap kid-size mountain bikes, or maybe people prefer them? (Most Guatemalans makes me feel tall.) There are adults everywhere bumping along the cobblestone streets hunched over on these bikes, sometimes with a passenger or cargo.
And motorbikes are simply an economical form of family transportation, or substitute for a small pickup. While it’s rare to see bikes larger than 125cc (many are 100cc scooters) it’s common to see families of three or four riding one one at one time. One staff member here saw five. Moto’s are handy for hauling things like full 50lb propane tanks loosely tied to the back, cross-ways, while winding between lanes of traffic. You don’t see many helmets around. Occasionally they’re actually worn on one’s head, but sometimes they’re just hung around one wrist while cruising the highway or navigating the very bumpy cobblestone streets in Antigua. Or like one bright father discovered, you can get your baby to hang on to the handlebars while you talk on your cell phone! (Using a cell phone while driving is actually illegal here, but of course remains a common practice.)
There are things on your car you don’t use much at home, but are essential here in Guatemala: You need your hazards to indicate that you’re going to park, or you’re waiting for someone else to park, or there’s backed up traffic ahead, or you’re just creeping along because you’re watching the scenery. And in many spots your mirrors should be folded in when you park. Otherwise they’re liable to be accidentally broken off by a pedestrian walking the narrow sidewalks, or by a car navigating a narrow street. Your horn goes without saying.
Buses are a phenomena here. You should read my friend Nic’s posting on their blog called: Chicken Bus for the Soul. http://bekaerts.in.guate.googlepages.com/cb4ts
Of course they don’t have Air Care here. The other day we were right behind a 20’ truck with the back doors not just open but removed. There were people bouncing around at the back of the box, but we could only see them occasionally when the black cloud of exhaust cleared.
Antigua and the capital are fairly modern cities, yet the large majority of adults in Guatemala cannot read or write. This makes prescriptions tricky, whether you give somebody medicine with instructions, or give them a prescription to get at a local pharmacy, where everything is simply purchased from behind the counter regardless of a prescription.

The average yearly income per household is probably around $5000, and at least 10% of Guatemalans live on less than $1.50 a day. The biggest source of income into the country is money sent from family members working abroad.

In order of importance, the following account for about 40% of years of life lost: perinatal mortality, pneumonia, HIV, diarrhea, and violence. While there is supposed to be health care available to everyone, the resources are extremely limited, and people do not trust the national hospitals. From conversations and experience we can see why.

Last week at the home for the elderly we were told that 88 year-old Maria just didn’t want to get out of bed, despite being up and around the day before. She said her legs hurt. On further examination I discovered she had fractured her hip. We brought her to the national hospital where she saw an orthopaedic surgeon, a great doctor I had met before. He said she will need a transfusion which she can get, but she will have to find people to donate to the bloodbank to keep it supplied, unit for unit. Furthermore, while the surgery is “covered”, the hardware is not. That will cost her about $300. Fat chance. Tomorrow I will find out how much more blood or money is needed, and hopefully we will be able to help.

There are many more stories that put faces to the statistics. Please pray for the people we meet, and for us to help spread God’s love and kingdom the way He wants us to.

Careful where you use your Credit Card

Apparently about a month ago we used our credit card at a business which was “compromised,” so the account was frozen. Hey, this happened before and didn’t bother me much, because I knew it was for our own security, and the new cards arrived very quickly in Canada.
So this time we waited for UPS to deliver the new cards. And we waited. Finally I called the bank. Wait a few more days, they should arrive, we were told. They didn’t. I called UPS, who told me the cards had been ordered back to Canada because they were undeliverable here. Why? Not sure, bit of a language barrier... So it turns out our cards were already back in Canada while we were advised to wait here. Okay, our bank said, that didn’t work. We’ll have to cancel the new cards, and try again.
This time I followed the UPS tracking number daily! ... Lots of time on the phone—with both UPS and the card company. That’s okay our bank said, we can reimburse you, just keep your phone receipts. What’s that? This is Guatemala. You don’t get a record of cell phone time or money spent. (You walk up to almost any tienda, hand them some cash and tell them your phone number, and 20 seconds later your account is “recharged.” It’s great, actually.) So last week I called UPS Guatemala, and was advised to call back the next day to speak with Luis, he will tell you about some outstanding charges. Another international call to our bank, who said this is completely unusual, but they will reimburse us. The next day after a couple tries I finally got Luis on the phone. Unfortunately he didn’t speak English either, but he told me there are now two packages he must deliver, and both have taxes which will have to be paid first. You can pay them there in Antigua.
To the bank. Of course I picked the line-up that didn’t move. This is Guatemala—I tried to be patient, even after a few people that arrived after me had been served and gone. Finally my turn: You can’t make deposit without the account number. Oh, Luis didn’t give me that. Cell phone use is not allowed in the bank, so back outside I went to call Luis. Anyway, you get the picture so I won’t go on with more details. I paid the taxes. I was told the packages would be delivered mañana. Mañana came. No packages. I called again. They will come, later today? ...or more likely mañana. Sure enough, mañana it was.

Semana Santa, Part 2

HE'S ALIVE!!

This morning we went to a small Easter Celebration at the Saravia’s (S.I. director). It’s about time. The processions are getting a little old. I mean, it’s been a wonderful experience, culturally intriguing and spiritually challenging. But after processions every weekend of lent, and in the past week at least a couple processions almost every day—four on Friday—through all hours of day and night, filling the atmosphere with pungent incense, and dirges with tubas and drums and cymbals, and morbid figures of Christ carrying a cross and crying Virgin Mary’s... well, we’re ready to celebrate that Jesus is totally ALIVE.

We were glad to see quite a few alfombras made for the Easter procession today, which turned out to be my favorite. This one was fairly modest—less incense and no robes for the carriers—and more upbeat with singing and clapping. You can’t really get tired of the alfombras, and the crowds haven’t bothered us like they might some of the locals. Except for the commotion around the procession, today there are mainly a few leftover gringos on the streets. Antigua has been full of people for Semana Santa (Holy Week). It seems to be a religious pilgrimage for some, a big party for some, and a tourist destination for others. For most it’s probably all of these.

The people of Guatemala are well-acquainted with the story of Jesus, his pain and crucifixion. We have developed a real respect for the way they recognize Christ’s sacrifice for us. They have such a vivid reminder every year. We could learn from the way they honour Jesus with these efforts. At the same time I have struggled with how our understanding differs from theirs. I guess for many people, faith is more trying than trusting.

I had a great conversation with one of our neighbours on Thursday while the 200+metre alfombra was being made outside our street. (His English was excellent, so I can be more confident that it actually was a good conversation!) After learning of our purpose here and telling me of some really great things he was involved in, he essentially said “I hope I go straight to heaven.” I’m pretty sure he meant he hopes not to spend much time in purgatory. It gave me a great glimpse into the mindset of his people, and an opportunity to share with him the possibility of knowing where we stand with God: The good we do is not really the reason we go to heaven. I mentioned a passage that I had happened to look at in the morning (Matthew 7:21-23), where Jesus describes what He will say to some religious people who had done lots of good things, “Get away from me, I never knew you!” Our neighbor seemed to recognize this truth. (He also commented on being able to tell what kind of people we were by the relationship we had as a family.)

At the crucifixion ceremony Friday afternoon in Central Park, a preacher was talking about (amongst other things) Jesus' thirst while he was on the cross... thirst for peace, for justice, for love. Although the language barrier was fairly high, I thought this was quite insightful. I noticed something yesterday evening as we watched the story again in “The Gospel of John”, a fantastic word-for-word depiction: It is very apparent that Jesus also had a great thirst for us to know His Father, through knowing Jesus himself, and that this relationship would remove fear and bring life and power to his followers by the presence of His Spirit.

Thank God that He has power over death, and that Jesus proved it by living after dying! This is the message of Easter. This is the good news—that we have ultimate life if we daily live His life instead of our own. That’s what it means to take up our own cross (Luke 9:23-25). Not just during Semana Santa, but every day. And the only way to do this is to rely on His life-power, not hope in our own efforts.

Wow didn't mean to preach so much... guess I've been thinking a lot about this stuff lately. Lighter stuff next time, and cheers to all!

meanwhile

Last week when the El Gorrion clinic was quiet we decided to visit the family with two brothers that both have muscular dystrophy. Their mother cares for them and sells tortillas. SI staff frequently stop in to assist with basic physiotherapy, etc. When we arrived, we discovered it was Fernando’s 8^th birthday. He still walks well, but his brother (10), has to use a walker. While we sang happy birthday, their father lay face down on the opposite bed, passed out in a drunken stupor. He didn’t stir until we decided to pray for him. As we did, he teared up and expressed his desire to be free of his addiction. We prayed for him and for his freedom. He and his family have ongoing contact with SI staff. Some of the donated funds are helping supply the brothers with vitamins. Thanks for praying for them.

(Alcoholism is a very common problem in Guatemala, and particularly in El Gorrion.)

Bonnie’s birthday was happier...

Our family recently went to visit the elderly in the same home I have been to before. The photo doesn't really show it, but this guy was so friendly:

Yesterday we went on a hike. At the top we found an unexpected playground/park. Pics at http://picasaweb.google.com/jkornelsen/Meanwhile#

Huge thanks for all kinds of support. We really would be lost without you. While we are having a good time, and helping advance a few things here, the kids are missing friends and home lots at times. Life here is the same as everywhere: every day we need to follow and rely on God.

Today we enjoyed another walk around Antigua. It's amazing to live in a place where you constantly run into beautiful places and sites (but it's hard to not take too many photos!)

Semana Santa, Part 1

Yesterday we made an alfombra for Jesus. It was a fun. First we headed to the market, fighting through a crowd waiting for the procession on the way. We didn’t find much at the market, but bought a whole bunch of flowers for about $10, including gerberas and lots of fresh rose petals. Unable to find any sawdust to buy, we decided to take a tuk-tuk home. We abandoned it a few blocks later, because walking in Antigua is faster than riding in slow traffic. After asking a few people who were making their own alfombras, a very friendly fellow gave us a bag of untinted sawdust and refused to take anything for it. We brought it all to our streetfront, and found a way to make it into a small but pretty arrangement. The neighbours enjoyed watching our gringo rookie efforts, and seemed impressed with the result. Then we watched it get trampled by the procession. That’s how it’s done. Here are a few photos, but as always there are plenty more at http://picasaweb.google.com/jkornelsen/SemanaSanta1#

Cuaresma (the 6 weeks before Easter, ie. lent) is pretty significant around here, but Semana Santa (Holy Week) is absolutely huge. People come from all over Central America and other places to join in the festivities. With the arrival of Palm Sunday, the city of Antigua has become crowded and very colourful. The vendors are everywhere, selling ornate palm-branch thingies, sunglasses, rosaries and relics, balls, balloons, and toys, snacks and typical food and popcorn and cotton candy, and any number of trinkets. The entrance areas of the cathedrals have become marketplaces. It’s fascinating, but the religious commercialism is almost sickening. Just as sickening is the realization that it hardly compares to what we do at Christmastime in our part of the world.

The tradition of the processions apparently started with the Spanish colonialists demonstrating the story of Jesus to the indigenous people. First there were the soldiers who took Jesus, and then came a bloodied Jesus carrying his cross, followed by Mary whose pain is as evident as her son’s. This was part of the Spanish approach to evangelism, er, colonialism, which also included forced labor. Of course the native Central Americans became Catholic, and more than an ocean away from the centre of the church in Europe, the religion took an interesting form. The indigenous people identified mostly with the suffering Christ, and syncretised their own beliefs including forms of sacrifices, etc.

The modern version of the procession has taken on a life of its own. People pay (around $25 to $75) to carry the anda (float) for only a block at a time. There can be a few to over a hundred men carrying a float at once (the largest requires 400), and the processions may weave around the city for over 100 blocks. The biggest will last from before dawn until after midnight. Women carry their own float, with a statue of Mary, and follow the main float. The bands usually play a dirge along the way. We haven’t exactly figured out the meaning of the incense, but it sure fills the air. (Once again, here's a great primer on Semana Santa in Antigua: http://www.questconnect.org/guat_semana_santa.htm )

The alfombras (carpets), made of coloured sawdust, pine needles, flowers, and sometimes fruits, are beautiful and sometimes artistically exquisite. They are very impressive, particularly for something that gets destroyed shortly after its completion ...reminiscent of a jar of perfume wasted on Jesus feet, actually. I appreciate the extravagant form of worship: These people have found a beautiful way to honour the Lord, and His sorrow and death. I wish the celebration extended to His resurrection, but we hear the Easter procession barely exists. Please join our prayer that they would experience the wonder of relationship with a living Saviour.

good slavery

Phil 1:1 (& 1st verses of Titus, James, 2Peter, & Jude)

I am a slave of Jesus Christ. He bought me; I am not my own. I own nothing—everything around me is his. My time is his. I do whatever he wants, right when he wants me to. My life is ordered by his will. Even my wife and children belong to him. He owns me, and it is so good: He provides everything I need. He protects me and cares for me, and does more for me than I could imagine. My Master is so kind, so patient, so loving and good. He is my Guide, my Companion, and my Friend. I lack no good thing. I am safe and at rest with him, even while I am working for him. I have joy, and I have peace. I have love, and I have true life.
P.S. He adopted me; He is my Father and I am His son. (Romans 8:15!)

The other morning I started reading the letter the apostle Paul wrote to the Philippians. I didn’t get past the first verse, and started writing the above paragraph. It struck me that Paul considered himself a slave of Jesus (as did at least a few other apostles). I should really consider myself a slave. I imagined what “slave” meant at that time, and I imagined Kunta Kinte in "Roots" and other stories of slavery. A number of other spots in the New Testament mention this. (Rom 6:22 & 1Pet 2:16, etc.) I am a voluntary slave of God, but bought for a very high price—the death of his Son. When experienced in fullness, this is the most wonderful arrangement possible, because I also become a child of the Father of the Universe!

Yesterday on my way to clinic I passed a couple walking up a steep part of the road. The woman was carrying a child, the size that would normally be walking. I wondered if the boy was ill, or if they needed help. Following God’s prompting, I offered them a ride and they climbed in. The mother had a repaired cleft lip, but her speech revealed that her palate was not repaired. I found out the boy was unwell, and they were planning on heading to the hospital in Antigua. I dropped them off at the clinic and promised to check him a short time later. After I did so, I started him on some antibiotics for pneumonia. It turns out Elvin is 6 years old but can’t walk or speak. He was developing normally until 6 months’ age, when he got meningitis. He has a 12 year old brother who is also disabled, but from birth. This couple has been caring for these boys, as well as three healthy girls, all these years in their home, with little support. I was impressed. They are following Jesus. After we prayed with them, the father was visibly moved—a sight I haven’t seen so far in this country. We plan to visit them in their home. (By the way, only two of the daughters are still at home. The oldest, 15, got married to an 18 year old fellow and moved out of the house just two weeks ago. She’s fine, it’s normal, the father reassured me ...I was partially reassured.)

Would I take time to reach out and help someone at home? I asked myself. Maybe sometimes?

Quite some time ago at night, I received a phone call from a colleague who was requesting my presence while someone else was on call. I can’t remember what I actually said, but I clearly recall thinking “If I start doing that, my life will be over.” After I hung up the phone, I may as well have heard God’s audible voice: “Your life ended long ago, when you gave it to me.” Believe it or not, I felt His joy in me after I changed my mind and was driving to the hospital a few minutes later. The life He has for me is better than any I could live, anyway.

This is the kind of slavery that I choose. The paragraph I wrote helps me remember my identity. More than anything, I'm his chosen child, loved beyond comprehension.