Here in Mexico the wind is cool and the sun is hot. This morning Celia, a lady whose son has a benign tumor at the base of his throat came by to share the results of his MRI with me. It seems that the tumor is not into the bone (praise God!) and she was going to Ciudad Victoria next week to see where to go from here. Last Sunday she brought her son Fidel by for us to pray for him. 6 years old, big brown eyes, and nervous. “Does prayer hurt?” I could imagine him asking himself. They don’t go to church anywhere and Celia says she believes in God, but is not ready to give her life over to Christ — though it is painfully obvious to her that she can’t control her son’s health. I pray that she and her family will see a result that can only be attributed to God, that they may know that not only is he real, but that he longs to be known by his creation… not just known about.
Today my soul is set to vibrate on “high.” Life has been unbearably beautiful lately: in the sun straining to pierce a murky sky, friends coming and leaving, God drawing my eyes to small gifts of yellow flowers on bare trees and Spring is seen if not felt. Red, fuchsia, orange, and white burst out of the ends of branches and there’s something in the air that reminds me of the last day of school. Tomorrow I leave for Kenya, a two day trip that pulls me through Amsterdam and deposits me in equatorial eastern Africa. My stomach is aflutter with the mystery of what lies around the corner, and the adventure of a life with Christ.
Lately God has been teaching me about waiting. His timing is always perfect, and though we, seeing the goal, want to dive in, God is more about the process sometimes than we realize. Fruit does not ripen and mature overnight, and picked unripe, never attains the sweetness that it would if one had waited. So, even though I get on a plane tomorrow, I will live in the moment today and go visit my friend Sofia. I love to see her face light up as she tells me about the latest escapades of her son Andres.
