Rhetorical Questions

A few out of a gazillion things I don't understand:


Why the Very Expensive Peruvian dog looks so much like the Peruvian Street Mutt.

Why the majority of citizens are discontent with the politicians that they elect.

Why I was born in the US and not, say, the Congo.

Why American hamburgers have no ham in them, and why Peruvian hamburgers are made mostly of fried potatoes.

Why my blog says I have 13 followers, and sometimes it says 18, but only 13 appear.
I haven't deleted anyone, I swear.

Why you can't get healthcare in Peru without a govt. issued ID,
you can't get an ID without a birth certificate,
you can't get a birth certificate unless your mom had healthcare and you were born in the hospital... and for that she needs an ID.

Why mayonnaise tastes so much better in Peru than in the US.

Why a "balanced" meal here consists of rice, yucca, potato, plantain and some fish.

Why I am so darn easily distracted.

Why so many people I don't know want to sell me viagra online.

Why the politicians vote themselves exempt from regulations they pass on to us...
Oh wait, I think I know the answer to that one.

Feel free to add your unfathomables in the comments.

Rats, Poison and (un)Common Sense

Rony's grandfather, a sweet older man who has lived his life hard,
eking out a living among rain, mosquitos, fertile soil and devastating floods,
has a problem:

His liver is failing from his continual drinking.

He has railing pains that wrack him and turn him into a knot of agony.

He goes dry, takes his medication, gets a bit better...

and starts in on the bottle again.

Repeat cycle.

And he knows that one day it could quite simply be the death of him.

Have you ever heard a story like this?


A month ago I discovered that I had a rat in my house.
My house isn't that large, or spacious and there is DEFINITELY not
enough room in it for both me and a rat
who chews holes in my oil bottle,
chews holes in my bread,
chews holes in my nifty new handbag,
and poops all over my tidy home.

So I did what anyone else with a bit of sense and cents would do.

I bought poison.

And mixed it with a rat's favorite foods:
roast chicken the first night.
That next morning I found the bowl disturbed, some chicken and rice pulled out
and the majority left behind.
However, my bread bag that was hung on a tight rope across my ceiling
 - accessible only by the acrobatic best -
was quite compromised.

So, thinking he liked bread better, I bought some fresh lovely bread,
cut it in half and smeared the middle with strawberry jam -
and poison.

That night I slept fitfully, hearing the rat knocking around
and half-guitily knowing him to be in the throes of death.
The next morning I awoke to the relief of finding the bread gone.
All of it.
But no little rat carcass to be found.

I did my morning ritual of a trek down the hill to the pit pot,
and coming back up my stairs, saw a bloody wreck in the corner.
Squeamishly, I moved shoes and peered under the bookcase...

and there in the floor was a round,
completely whole
circle of messy red
jelly.

The stinker had hauled the bread to the corner, eaten the whole top of it,
flipped it over, and eaten the other side too.
Leaving the poison completely untouched.
I was so incredibly frustrated - and simultaneously impressed.

Somehow, my little rat knew what poison was... and as tempting as the food was,
he knew to stay away from it.

Now back to Rony's grandfather...

Why is it that we may not be as smart as some rats?

And before we judge, I just need to go a short ways to
think of the times in my life that I
*KNEW*
something was bad for me, but went ahead and did it anyway.

Rats.

Tangent

And I sit here on the edge of darkness and light

and I linger and fret

for I know the Tangle is deep and dangerous

and I wonder if I should go in after you

or stay on the fringe and wait.

If I go in, the chances of my finding you

are slim

- the last time I saw you, you were running

pell-mell, away from me -
(for which I am confusedly and unequivocally sorry)

But I am waiting poorly, with anxious heart

for I know the dark is deep

and dangerous.

Oh, why do you linger there?

...and can you perceive the dark

from the light?

Please,

begs my heart,

do not tarry -

or if you do see the light,

stretch out a hand,

that Someone may grasp it

until you can feel the Sun on your face,

and see the Way easy to walk it on your own.

....
This was written for a friend, but on further and better reflection, I see 
myself (oh beam of judgement in my own eye!)
and how often and how well I run 
from the One who is Light, who is waiting...


I run because I don't believe.
I don't believe that He will be there, that He is waiting,
or that He is good - towards me - that He will answer, and
that He still has good and unparalleled plans and purposes for me.


The thief does his job well, whispering lies of mistrust, of unfaithfulness, of my own inadequacy.
Of inferiority and superiority and easier ways out 
of the thick of longing for Life and Reality in which I find myself 
caught in those moments when it falls silent all around...


So I start to run.
I run to distraction and I run to pleasure. 
I run to forgetfulness and I run to self-pity.
Perhaps... just maybe... the time has come to run back to His arms.
With all the strength that can be mustered.

Bad Medicine

“There's nothing wrong with you.”

The doctors said as they did test after test.

Or at least that the story I heard

as his body wasted away.

Rail thin and wracked with pain

But there was another story

whispered in English so no one could

understand, of one test

that did come back postive.

And he just didn't want to face the results.

The first story I heard from his own lips,

and the lips of his mother. A sad story

about incompetent doctors

who saw obvious symptoms but drew no conclusions.

The second from his brother-in-law.

I met him on a hospital bed on his last night

and we read passages from Romans

and prayed to the Doctor.

And he found a peace that he had never known,

...and my friend, his brother-in-law said 

the change was remarkable.

Cambodia, Nazi Germany, the A-bomb

The Congo, Rwanda, Joseph Kony,

Stalin, North Korea, Saddam and Bin Laden...

And day by day one hears of the symptoms:

petty tyrants, corruption, greed, apathy,

oppression, slavery, injustice, theft, lies,

infidelity, abuse, deceit and murder...

Are the doctors incompetent?

“They have healed the wound of my people lightly,

saying, Peace, peace, when there is no peace.”

Jeremiah 8:11

...or is it that the world knows, but doesn't want

to face the truth of it's desperate state?

“...who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them.  For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.”

Romans 1:18-20

I sure feel like I don't know much these days.

But I do know that yesterday
on a dark morning a

good man died, leaving a wife and

two young children.

I don't know 

who closed their eyes 

first,

but looking 

the other way 

never healed anyone.

A Little Higher

The street under construction, but the vendors around the corner

on the banks of the river were wetting feet and produce,

So they moved back onto the newly cemented road

And the waters rose a little higher.

First the house on the end of the street, building an extra platform

So the water couldn't touch them as they slept

But the waters rose, a little higher.

House by house it advanced, store by store

Street by street, curb by curb, conquering one structure at a time

Forcing relocation, then relocation again

Until even the main street was impassable

Homes unlivable moved to rented rooms, then to abandoned buildings

And still the waters rose, a little higher.

The bridge shut down to all but foot traffic

And smaller, narrower plank bridges were set up in place of sidewalks,

A slim course for the stream of people to pass

Attenuating balance above waters filled with

Fish and trash and splashing mer-children

Who went home at night with itchy eyes and irritated skin

From the sluggish waters that couldn't sweep away the filth

Fast enough, to sleep on damp boards above musty solutions,

Until at last

it started to recede

in the same way it came

one decimeter at a time

leaving a miry footprint

of sludge

and sand

and plastic bags.

10 meters down now and 

counting.

Recession

Rising rivers and

vengeful rain,

beating sun and

crying puppies.

Wasp stings and

backbiting,

hasty words that cannot be

retracted and

weights of silence.

Receding waters and

warming sun,

cut grass by the helping hand of a friend

and one more pup, still alive.

Forgiveness.

My world is full of

scattered thoughts and

incomplete sentences.

Redemption.

4am and 4am and 4am again.

One comes and

another goes

but I feel little moved by either.

Rest and rest and rest

people say.

But how can you rest

when there's so much need,

When you are working for the King...?

not for earning, not for works, but for love...

yet so tired.

Was this how Martha felt?

Truth and

grace and

strength and

peace

are all lost to

restlessness

and unnamed fears.

But there is One

who came

with perfect love

to cast out all fear...

if only I would

take His hand and

His yoke

and learn.

Weightlessness

Sometimes, it's easier to never say "hello" than it is
to have to say "goodbye."
And I am tired.
Tired of guarding my heart
            - against any possible disappointment, once again.
Tired of weighing consequences,
                         - and I know my scales are weighted.
Tired of turning away from people I LOVE
                 because it is just hard to know they will be far away soon.

And I am grateful.
Grateful to a God of second (and third and fourth and umpteenth) chances...
Who understands my numbness...
and offers Himself and His amazing

     open -armed and
     open -hearted and
     willing to hurt and
      willing to be rejected and
        willing to lose
          without conditions...

             ...agape love

as a solution.

I John 4:18 - 19
"There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. We love because he first loved us."