Las Montañas

A week ago on a Saturday, we woke up early and took a road trip with folks from our church. I can't really say where we went, because I never really understood where we were. I know that we were near the beach, and then went into "las montañas." But even the people we were with, although they call it "las montañas," admit that we weren't really in the mountains.

Along the way, we stopped at a beach near Puntarenas and ate. The men fired up the grill, a hubcap rim on poles with fire built from sticks and leaves. How handy is that? The kids played along the shore until the dark sand was too hot to walk on barefoot. The adults huddled under the shade of the trees along the road. We had just enough change and not a colon more to pay for two of us to use a very clean bathroom, gracias a Dios!

The purpose of the trip was to celebrate and worship with another body of believers in the same association of churches. So we packed up after the picnic and kept on driving another couple of hours. This fellowship meets outside a home, under an outside roof and a tarp. It's a dry and dusty place, with beautiful bougainvillea in bursts of bloom along the road and cows grazing near a barbed wire fence.

That afternoon the air hung hot and mostly still. We worshipped under the glare and heat of the midday sun. The floor was dirt, fine and powdery covering our toes. A chicken skittered around our feet. The dogs next door lay lazy until after the service was over and the food came out. We sang praises with gusto. Our pastor preached grace and thanks. The kids swung their feet from benches and the adults stood up and moved to the back in order to avoid eyes falling heavy. The final “amen” was a loud one.

And then the ladies brought out food, arroz con cerdo and sweet te frío and pieces of cake. In that humble place, they fed us all and offered seconds. The kids ran around and taunted the pig out back and played the games that are universal. The men sat in groups and talked and the ladies sat in groups and talked and we all shared hugs and goodbyes, just as anyone leaving a church supper would do.

We piled into the microbus, sweaty and dirty and tired after a long day, but oh so full (& I'd say that even if we didn't have the promise of a stop for ice cream on the trip home...!)
I can't help but think of the first stanza of the hymn,

How sweet and awful is the place
with Christ within the doors,
while everlasting love displays
the choicest of her stores.

Sweet and full of awe, indeed.

More photos of the day are available in a Picasa album here.