10/366

"Objects in mirror are closer than they appear."
Isn't that true of life? Those things that I would be prone to keep at a distance?
The kids that shout and lean in close for an embrace when I walk out the gate.
The dusty dirty streets that I walk each day.
The noisy sounds and funky smells that cause me to shake my head.
The brilliant splashes of color that brighten the ordinary drab.
The promise of hope in the shadow of despair.
All that pokes at me;
all that I can't ignore;
all that keeps me alert to life around me.

Those too are closer to my heart than they often appear.

8/366

"All for not studying," it says. All of us who know Spanish pretty much let out an audible gasp and open our eyes a tad wider when we read it. But yes, the garbage cart owner asked for that to be painted on the back of his trailer. To us, it seems to be a condemnation of sorts, but honestly, he seems sort of proud of it.

I heard it during my growing up years, and I still hear it today- if you don't study, you'll be a garbage man. This particular week, a group of college-aged volunteers has come to serve that very group- the garbage collectors in our community. Certainly they are among the lowest rung of every society, the least respected, the frequently overlooked.

My community is in a bit of a garbage conundrum. For many valid reasons, the city has banned animal pulled garbage carts from the streets of Reynosa, switching over to a "motorized" system. Yes, the city owns a small fleet of trucks. But "motorized" mostly means men driving privately owned pickup trucks with trailers, or beds with built-up plywood sides to hold the garbage. It seems everyone is figuring out who's going to take their garbage. That seems to work in both a literal and figurative sense.

On this day an older man arrives with a garbage cart pulled by his donkey, Blanca. While our team of volunteers install a new piece of nylon fabric over his head to protect him from the elements, I learn that he has been collecting garbage in Reynosa for 25 years. He told me that he can't afford to buy a truck, so he'll just keep collecting garbage in the immediate neighborhood to avoid the fine for having a donkey out on the street.

He thanks us for our work. I thank him for his. I don't care what society says- I'm proud to be neighbor to these laborers.

7/366

The world-making Word had to fuss with the minutiae of making a living. He had family drama and knuckle-headed friends, temptations and distractions to sort out. He spent much of his life making and fixing things that served a purpose and were lost and forgotten. He knew the value and the vanity of toil. The inauguration of the life of the world to come was made up of hard work, simple pleasures, a small circle of influence, and love. The path of the abundant life runs through the otherwise unremarkable.
- Stephen Crotts in "The Abundant Unremarkable Life" at Sayable blog

The photo captures the inside bench of a trash cart here in Aquiles Serdán, making the quote seem especially appropriate. Day to day life here doesn't typically seem very noteworthy. Yet, the days pass and slowly slowly, we notice fractions of change, and indeed, "the abundant life runs through the otherwise unremarkable."

5/365

"Yes, I am a dreamer, for a dreamer is one who can find his way by moonlight, and see the dawn before the rest of the world."  Oscar Wilde

I wake up to sewer smells in the bathroom and to smokey smells in the living room and I wonder how much my life expectancy might be lowered by the various fumes I inhale around here. And I can hear chickens and dogs and a train in the distance making morning sounds before morning sights appear. But then I go outside and turn for the view outside my front gate as I walk to work this morning and the promise of the day ahead, and I count it all grace to see the dawn before the rest of the world.

2/365

I wore today like comfortable old shoes that fit just right. I woke up before the sun and slid out of bed and over to the chair in the corner of the room and sat still to listen. I read those familiar words, faithful and true. My guy delivered a latte with a kiss. I got in the car and drove three turns and ended up with two-handed coffee and a most trusted confidant and prayers washed with sacred tears. I packed the car and hugged my girls and laughed as they goodbye'd us with a salute. We headed back to our other home, with a stop for a few groceries and an ice tea along the way. I drove into the neighborhood and beeped at a kid who returned the greetings with a two-fingered (of significance, as he is known to use just one finger...) wave. I wiped off and mopped up two weeks of dust and my house smelled like Mexican pine. I greeted our gatekeeper and greeted our workers and greeted my teammates and sat in my desk chair and made it wheeze when it lowered. I laughed with friends. We watched the sun put on a show before setting for the night and then ate together. 

This morning my reading ended,

And the commander of the Lord's army said to Joshua, “Take off your sandals from your feet, for the place where you are standing is holy.” (Joshua 5:15 ESV) 

Maybe there are days that make us fall on our face to worship, too.

1/365

"Getting old is not for sissies," she tells me as we rise. We have just finished lunch, treating me by sharing the gift card she receives from her kids every year. She celebrated her 75th birthday just a week ago. I nod my head in agreement at her wisdom while moving with hesitation, my tailbone still sore from a hard fall several weeks earlier. I think about my husband, eagerly anticipating having pins removed from his arm in just a couple of days. Certainly, we are beginning to recognize cracks in these mortal vessels.

The new year starts dreary, gray and rainy and wet. It's a good day to sit and stare out the window and reflect. Earlier in the year past, we took time to consider the almost ten years prior. On long pieces of paper spread out on heavy wooden tables, we mapped the journey. We remembered ups and downs, detours and dead ends, sharp turns and roadblocks along the way. In both ministry and in family, we have known celebrations and steep declines and struggles and tragedy, all. 

But back in March and now still, nine months later, I recognize our Creator, Redeemer, Savior God who remains faithful, firm and unwavering. The lyrics of a favorite song play in my mind-
I will build my house
Whether storm or drought
On the rock that does not move
I will set my hope
In your love, O Lord
And your faithfulness will prove
You are steadfast, steadfast
("Steadfast" by Sandra McCracken, Leslie Jordan and Josh Silverberg, with adaptations from Henri Nowen)
That is the chorus this sissy wants playing on repeat in the year ahead.