The Gilded Journey

"Cast off your moorings from the land of fear and doubt, leave the prisons of despair and melancholy and set sail on a gilded journey..."

 

During my morning reading I was captivated by the above quote.   I was particularly enamored by the phrase "gilded journey."  You could do a whole discussion group on it's interpretation. The only problem is that after I centered a whole blog post around this lovely phrase, I realized I had misread the original quote.  It should have said, "Cast off your moorings from the land of fear and doubt, leave the prison of despair and melancholy and set sail on a guided journey where the stars are in their appointed places and the voyage is beautiful and safe."  (Letters of the Scattered Brotherhood.)  Well I love the corrected quote, but I still prefer the "gilded journey."   And I ceratinly prefer uncharted territory over guided and safe.  All expats have that bit of adventurer in them. My mother-in-law says that my husband and I are the most adventuresome people she knows and I take that as the highest compliment although I am not sure she meant it quite that way.  I think there was a little bit of a mother's "what about retirement" worry in her voice. Anyway let's get back to the gilded journey.    My literary dyslexia illustrates a life lesson I am continually learning - that even our mistakes can be beautiful mishaps solely due to our interpretation of the situation.   I remember years ago singing robustly in the shower what I thought were the beautiful lyrics to a popular song.  They were beautiful lyrics, but they were also incorrect. (I am famous in my household for this.)  Well it appears I have done it again!  Nevertheless, I will sing with gusto my own song with words of my own making for the sun is rising upon a new horizon this morning, and truly - life is a gilded journey!

Mexico Withdrawals

Today I was sitting in our church in the U.S. with it's  large sanctuary and comfortable padded pews while the full worship team and band played skillfully. I kept waiting for anyone in the congregation to embrace me and whisper in my ear  "Dios te bendiga." But it never happened.  In fact in Mexico they don't just embrace - they kiss you.   During meet and greet time during the service today, people would say things to me in English and my mind was responding with, "Igualmente." which is Spanish for "Same to you."  I smiled and nodded a little dizzy with culture confusion. I embraced a member of the church like I was accustomed to doing in Mexico, and I could tell he was a little stunned I didn't shake his hand. As I sat surrounded by several hundred church members in a gorgeous sanctuary enjoying the state of the art sound system and latest video announcements, I found myself longing for my little cramped Mexican church with it's white plastic chairs,and old Christmas decorations on the walls.  I imagined Cruz singing loud and off key with all the passion and enthusiasm she could muster as she literally jumped for joy leading worship with CD tracks because our tiny church in Mexico has no instruments.  But what we lack in expertise we more than make up for with fervor.  I smiled remembering how everyone in our church in Mexico clapped, but rarely on beat or in unison. All the little kids would pound their tambourines during the fast songs, but as soon as worship started little Floracita would gather up the tambourines from which half the rattles were missing. I miss the broad smiles and trying to understand all that was being said.  I  miss the long tear filled prayers and even longer sermons that I struggled to stay awake through.  I miss eating tacos after church with Mariana and Armin, our pastor.  I miss all the earthy richness and warmth of my little Mexican church family. Despite all the things we don't have in Mexico, what we do have is so full, so alive and so authentic. Hasta luego Iglesia  de Senor.  Mi corazon esta con tu.

Ride Like the Wind!

Today I was sitting in my writing perch watching a little boat bouncing on the waves of the ocean. Now I have never really particularly wanted a launcha (a Mexican word for small fishing boat,) but when I was a young girl I always wanted a horse.  I spent my summers in an ancient willow tree reading every horse book that existed. Well at that  moment from my window that small boat bouncing across the horizon became a stallion galloping across a vast blue field.  Suddenly the lowly launcha had a whole new appeal to me -- (never mind that I get sea sick.)  I could escape into the wild blue Caribe, battle with giant sea monsters, and explore the edge of the universe!  I could ride like the wind out to the vast ocean of solitude.  However something tells me that you are probably supposed to have a "fishing buddy" for safety reasons which would totally ruin my grand illusions.  I can just picture someone yapping away and desecrating my blessed silence.  I remember my Dad telling us kids that we had to be quiet if we wanted to see any animals in the woods.  I can't remember how he worded it, but he conveyed to me that nature was like God's church and deserving of awe and reverence.  And so the ocean has become one of my meeting places with God.  There is a scripture that says, "Thy way is in the sea and Thy footsteps are not know."  So in a way I guess that little launcha symbolizes my avenue of escape into the deep.  I am already contemplating what color I will paint it and what I shall name her.  There is a sign in one of the little Mexican restaurants I eat at that say's "Respecto la silencio por favor."  Which is kind of hilarious since there is always a television blaring out cheesy soaps in Spanish. Nevertheless maybe I can make such a sign for my vessel!

Mercado Magic

There are things I have a fond appreciation for and one of those cosas or things is outdoor markets. Perhaps my infatuation with markets comes from having lived most of my life without them. Walmart's grocery section definitely lacks the romance of an earthy foreign market. Whatever country we visit I always want to go to the mercado. The market here on the island is no exception.

Stormy Weather

Outside my window the sea is churning and the waves are white with foam. We are having a tropical storm and Stan says it will be here 2 days. I am up in my little perch listening to the wind howl, and sipping hot coffee with books piled all around me. This is paradise indeed! It's the island's version of being snowed in.
Last night I taught my first Bible study with an interpreter. When I was first asked to speak I thought it was for a women's Bible study, but it ended up being a meeting for the whole church. I was encouraged as I sought the Lord for the service, and I pray the precious congregation was too. My interpreter, Jose, was good and asked if he could keep my notes when I was through. My Pastor asked me to preach 2 Sundays from now; and I am excited as I seek the Lord for what he would have me to share. I hope to challenge the people with His Word, knowing I too will be challenged for I am always preaching to myself first. God's Word is a refining fire, and how I love it's heat.

Contemplative Bliss

Our first guest has come and gone and I am catching a glimpse of the peaceful rhythm of life after building. This morning I took a tray of coffee up to my writing loft and luxuriated in the sound of the surf rolling onto the beach and the steady breeze from my ceiling fan. The only short fall is my computer signal will not reach the loft, so tomorrow we will have to buy a range extender in Cancun. But this little space is hands down my favorite spot in the house. It is my upper room, my private retreat and my pinnacle for contemplation. I have a mahogany colored desk and chair, a Chinese armoire full of books, and a daybed piled with Indian pillows. These are back-dropped by 3 Moorish arched windows that overlook the sea. It doesn't get better than this.