The rains started a few weeks ago and with them came a semi restored sense of humanity. The general impulse towards individual survival has quieted, the lone ranger restored to cohabitation with its fellow man. The living room is being used again, the kitchen once more the heart of the home. People are back to wearing more clothes and the cry for ice has diminished to a dull roar. The hammocks are lonely, beds are filled. Sleep comes without cold showers and long before 3 am. We’ve awoken from our heat coma. Even the plants are a little perkier and some days we are lucky enough to have almost normal electricity. The beach is extra muddy and filled with sticky clay this year, the water line out some 20 meters across an impassable expanse. Quad drives through the beach grasses are the best we can promise the kids these days. The fishermen have moved their boats farther west down the beach to an area slightly more accesible. And since us watching the sunset in balmy solitude is less important than their livelihood, we’re patiently waiting for the restoration work of December’s winter storms.

School is out for the summer, a whiplash-y shock to the harried soul. Suddenly the mornings of multi-tasking and constant attending and schedule-shifting and cheerleading have dissipated into the misty world of “I’m bored.” No wonder some people do it year-round. Unfortunately I am not one of those brave souls. I need more than a couple weeks to convince myself to go at it again. Supposedly I should be preparing my first high school transcript right now but somehow blogging and braiding rugs and even laundry are more interesting than that. Don’t get me wrong, we mostly enjoy it while we’re at it, but I’m in recovery mode and can’t be too harshly judged for the squealing of the balloon as the air goes out.

Mango season is basically over. We’re sad and glad. Sad because mango juice is delightful and fresh mango dripping down your chin is delicious and chopped mango with chili salt and lime make the best breakfasts but glad because the worst of our spring heat is over and the stinging yellow flies will be gone and the rotting fruit everywhere will dry out and the fruit flies will find another place to live.

Motmots, flycatchers, orioles, oropendolas, hummingbirds and so many others have made their nests and homes in our yard this year. With so much land being cleared for cattle and construction, it feels right to keep our area wooded–a mini reserve for the lower branches of the animal kingdom. It gives you something to care about beyond yourself. The monkeys are still here and now with a baby? Good! They’re thriving then. You saw baby orioles? Yes! They are happy. Most of the fallen mangos have bites out of them? Perfect! The squirrels and iguanas and monkeys and birds have known the provision of their Creator.

Back in October, we decided we needed to make some major changes in the way we were working. We knew these would mean for a double-schedule, greater responsibility and hands-on labor but it was so necessary, there was hardly a decision to be made. We’ve pulled back from making short visits to places farther away and reintegrated ourselves into one of the places we had left on their own. We are now working full time in 2 different towns at once and visiting the farther places much less frequently. It is always awkward to know how much to share publicly about the work. Know that it is not an easy task and that all boasting is excluded. We are unworthy servants who merely attempt to do our duty. If there is discouragement, slowness of response, a sense of pointlessness we are humbled and reflective and grateful the results are not ours to procure. If there has been any blessing, if there has been any growth–all praise to the sovereign Lord of glory who has chosen a people for himself in tiny forgotten towns in the south of Mexico.

That’s why I love classical literature so much. They freshen my sight of the gospel and encourage my soul that this truly is the Story that will ever be told. I’m not working for something that might not work out in the end. So when Frank Osbaldistone must empty himself of his own will and go to the lawless lands of Scotland on his father’s business, when the woman he loves is working for the other side, when she is totally lost and he is humbled, when he is restored to his father and brings his bride home—I know that there are lost ones of the Bride, who are indeed working for the other side, that one day will be brought not merely to the noble protection of the Osbaldistone family, but into the Kingly line of the Eternal God.

On the hottest days with algebra ringing in my ears and mango juice dripping off my elbow, that was the motivation to get everyone showered and coated in bug spray and out the door to visits and classes and meetings. Our satisfaction, our joy, our comfort can never be found in Watt’s “terrestrial globe”.

When the power goes out–He is the Light Eternal.
When the highway is closed because of protests and we can’t get to the city–He is the Bread of Life who came down from Heaven,
When household tasks are impossibly endless, when the work is weary–He is our Sabbath Rest,
When our bodies are broken–He is our strength,
When school is difficult–in Him are hid all the delightful treasures of wisdom and knowledge,
When we feel alone, He is building his Church to the praise of his glory, one soul at a time;
When prices rise–He is the Giver of all good gifts
When we are emotionally high and low–He is impassible,
When we are distressed and falter–He is faithful,
When we are made small–He is magnificent in greatness,
When we are frail–He is Eternal.

Sometimes He takes it all away to give us Himself–which is so, so much better. I often remember hearing Joni Tada talking about waking up in the night in so much pain and finding Jesus to be sweeter than ever before. And it’s true. I know.

Well, there’s a sort of/kind of update since January. And…I will try to write again sooner than 7 months. This year’s blogging schedule is a new and embarrassing record. But also no promises because that would just be foolish.