in the beginning

before we even knew it, before we even stepped off a single flight, (before the world began), God was using us as a lighthouse of His love. i still don't know all the 'how's, but

somehow, the flight attendant giving announcements from Indy-Miami found out our final destination (thought she couldn't pronounce it to save her life) and our mission to 'serve the underprivileged...in a foreign country...what a sacrifice...i wish my kids would be that unselfish with their time'. i never really thought about it as a sacrifice of my time to go on this trip; i believed from the beginning that it was the very best use of my time. but i soon came to see it as beautiful that she valued sacrificial service so much. maybe because that is what she does so that her kids can go to college. she even got some other passengers to clap along with her appreciation for us.

somehow, in the airspace between Miami and Guayaquil, a seatmate of one of my teammates saw something in us, said 'you guys are different--i don't know what it is, but there's something different about you', started a whole string of conversation that went straight through to immigration, asking questions and seeking answers about Christ and Christianity and Christendom (oh yes, they are three very different things, which the disillusioned eye can see all-too-clearly, which discrepancy is often the driving force for church-leavers). pray for the identity issues faced by those of mixed 'race' (whatever that is)--this curious young man is half-Ecuadorian, half-Canadian, often travels between the two continents in probably a serious struggle to define what 'home' means and where he can settle his heart. but we know that only in heaven can we find that true home, and "our hearts are restless till we find our rest in Thee"--a.w. tozer. so pray he keeps searching, buscando, preguntando, llamando a la puerta de la corazon de Cristo

somehow, the baby next to me slept quite peacefully except when she decided to look me straight in the eyes and smile glamorously. her name is Ana! and i spoke with her mother half in Spanish, half in English. she looked so tired, i offered to hold little Ana so she could sleep more comfortably, but i assumed wrong. i missed the fact that ultimate comfort comes from being in our Father's arms, often conveyed by our earthly parents' arms, and from being able to cradle others in our arms when we have the chance. so she stayed warm and close to her mother, receiving continual kisses on the head from both parents. what a stereotype-shatterer this neighbor couple turned out to be. instead of the expected latin american machismo, which i had just read about in Culture Shock Ecuador, i saw a father who was tall and commanding yet shockingly tender with both his baby daughter and the two young sons across the aisle. how he filled bottles and draped and tucked blankets around his family, and playfully wrestled with his sons in the aisle, and joined in the baby-kissing and took her to sleep on his shoulder for a while. how destructive to my pride, to my possible prejudices. pray for the wholeness of families, for the healthiness of their expressions of affection--i would hope that more families could be like the one that unfolded before me on flight AA 933. thank God for his mercy in keeping our hearts soft and good soil for unconditional love to take root

somehow, the moment i stepped onto Ecuadorian soil (well, pavement), i felt like i had been transplanted back home to India. funny, a friend of mine on the team felt like she had landed in China! smells and sights and sounds put our sensory-memories on overload as we strolled down the sidewalk while our luggage was loaded onto pickup truck-beds. yes, we almost wandered off and got left behind, but luckily speed-walked back to the right parking spots in time to squish into the front seat of a pickup with a Chinese decoration swinging wildly from the rearview mirror, speeding past all the signs above little shops closed for the night with corrugated metal pull-down doors, and arriving at the Hotel Sol de Oriente. again reminded of the lodgings to be found in a far-away land, with the tiny lobby and many men with uniforms standing ready to lug our luggage into the elevators and unlock our doors for us with those hefty macho metal keys. the bathroom, the beds, el dicho 'don't drink the water', the view of dirt-streaked buildings, the blasing musica all through the night, y mucho mas.

so how was it, then? in the beginning? in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. God is holy, his Word is holy...and I really felt like I was standing, sitting, sleeping, whatever, on holy ground.
here's how i felt: i couldn't stop my palms from turning upward or the droplets from forming in my eyes the moment we started filing out of the plane, with a friend behind me saying "we should kiss the ground". honestly, so far this culture doesn't 'shock' me but soothes me, spices up my mood, spikes my motivation, sparks my curiosity, sings me to sleep. yet i know i have only scratched the surface of the deep. deep river, deep flowing love of God for the nations he knew from the beginning. in the beginning