I knew it would happen some day, but it happened today. As my class on Las Epistolas Paulinas (The Pauline Epistles) was letting out, after five weeks and the final session I will have with the students, one of the students asked me how old I am. I told her I am 63 years old, and she then informed me, “That’s why you remind me of my grandfather.”… Yes, the bloom of youth has wilted—and long ago!

What do I do here in Merida? Actually I am pretty busy. First, I need to get adjusted to the language, as all I do is in Spanish. People ask me where I learned Spanish, and I truthfully do not know. My high school Spanish classes were helpful, I am sure, and spending a school year in Mexico City while in college, although the classes were in English and all my friends there were Americans, was also helpful. But I just like the language and have gravitated towards people and places where it is used. My facility right now is certainly not perfect, but I am grateful that I seem to be able to be understood in both the classes I teach and the churches I preach in. And I know that each time I am forced to interact in the language I learn a little more. From time to time, like when I order at a fast-food eating place, people talk so fast that I can be completely lost. But I do pretty well talking about justification by faith and the like…And in the sermon I have used here several times this visit, my marvelous imitation of the honking of Canadian Geese crosses any and all language barriers…

So, every morning I rise and greet my friend who sits on the fence outside my window. Then after breakfast I venture forth to one of the two classes I am teaching—one on Monday and Tuesday, the other on Wednesday and Thursday. The first is on the Pauline Epistles, the second on preaching. The Epistles class lasts 4 hours, the other 5 hours, and they really do take a lot of preparation. Fortunately the Legters have a high-speed internet connection and a printer, so I can get information and print out worksheets, Bible manuscripts (I always use manuscripts rather than the Bibles themselves), and class notes. That helps much!

So the mornings Monday-Thursday are spent in the classroom teaching. Then there is the late lunch, from 1:30-2:30, and time for study and preparation. Late in the afternoon, as the sun is getting ready to set, I take about an hour for a cycle ride in the area. My usual route is 12 miles, most of it on a new highway that is being constructed but that is not yet open to traffic--except for the occasional tricitaxi (three wheel vehicle of choice in the Yucatan)which plies the same route. A perfect place to ride, one that reminds me of years ago when Nancy and I were living in Pasadena. Our home was about 3 miles from Fuller Seminary, where I worked, and they were building a new freeway directly on the route from about a block away from the house to a block from the seminary. What a delight it was to ride several feet above the mad traffic of Pasadena each day—looking down on the stopped cars while enjoying 6 lanes all to myself… That stopped a couple days before they opened the freeway—I got a ticket. There were several police cars parked by my exit and one of the officers motioned me
over and gave me a ticket for riding on a freeway. I was incredulous, and frustrated at this show of bureaucratic foolishness, so went to court. The judge asked me if I planned on riding on the freeway any more, to which I replied, of course not since it is now open for traffic. The ticket was upheld, the fine was $1 and the judge suspended it… I am glad the Mexican police do not concern themselves with cyclists on my empty road here.

Anyway, in the evenings I may study or visit friends here. Then the day repeats. On weekends I have been busy doing various things, including preaching in different churches.

All in all, the time here goes by very quickly, and the days seem to be filled with things that count. Which is what I like! Ecclesiastes 3:1 For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven..

Tuesday evening Kathi and Judy arrived in Merida, their plane coming to rest next to Air Force One. The Ahinas and I met them at the airport, had dinner then left them to rest. The next day was interesting—particularly in the evening. The Legters had informed us of a special concert of Yucatecan choral music which was to be held in the Opera House and was to be directed by an ex-seminary professor whom I know, so we all decided to attend. Just before leaving the Legters’ home, as the sun began to set the sky filled with the brilliant colors of a tropical sunset. Hard to capture in a photo, but as you can see, I tried.

Then, just as we were leaving the house, something I have heard of all my life but never experienced happened—the locust came. The only sound was the sound of their wings beating, but the sky darkened as a cloud of who knows how many millions descended. About five inches long, an ugly brown, and unstoppable, they landed on everything. For some reason they were not eating, but had they been in the mood the vegetation of the area would have disappeared. Deuteronomy 28 records the warning of God for disobedience, You shall carry much seed into the field, and shall gather little in; for the locust shall consume it…. All your trees and the fruit of your ground the locust shall possess. Joel 1 prophesied, What the locust swarm has left the great locusts have eaten; what the great locusts have left the young locusts have eaten; what the young locusts have left other locusts have eaten. And in Exodus 10 we read, So Moses stretched out his staff over Egypt, and the Lord made an east wind blow across the land all that day and all that night. By morning the wind had brought the locusts; they invaded all Egypt and settled down in every area of the country in great numbers. Never before had there been such a plague of locusts, nor will there ever be again. They covered all the ground until it was black. They devoured all that was left after the hail-- everything growing in the fields and the fruit on the trees. Nothing green remained on tree or plant in all the land of Egypt.

The next day the locust were here until around 11:00 am. Then, rising together in the same way they had arrived, they left—swarming in a cloud and moving on to another part of the city or suburbs. Having experienced this I can see clearly how horrific their appearance must have been in times long gone by, and in parts of the world today. Merciless, uncontrollable and devastating…

We left the seminary grounds that evening and went to the Ahina’s home for a wonderful meal of a typical Yucatecan dish which Antonio’s mother had spent most of the day preparing. Hollowed out mounds of Edam cheese filled with ground beef and a cheese sauce. Then mango cheesecake for desert. Delicious, but filling is not an adequate word to describe it…

Then to the concert, which was excellent. An acapella choir singing Yucatecan love songs. Some Cuban influence, some indigenous, some sounding a bit like Gilbert and Sullivan. Then greeting the director afterwards.

Quite a mixture and quite an evening… In a few hours the experiences of beauty, despair, friendship in Christ, fine food and fine art. Inescapably present, but probably always there if we stop to open our eyes to see what God puts in front of us… Psalm 78:12 In the sight of their fathers he wrought …

Last night presidents Bush and Calderon drove by. The Ahinas, Kathi, Judy and I were having dinner at a taqueria along the main boulevard of Merida, Avenida Montejo, when we looked out the window and saw several police cars leading several large black limousines with small flags of the United States and Mexico flying from the front corners. They were on their way from dinner in the campo (agricultural areas) to their hotel just off the Avenida. They did not stop to say hello, but we were engrossed in conversation and would probably have been rude hosts anyway.
When Nancy and I were in Albania, Donald Rumsfeld visited. Living right next to the embassy, for several days prior to and during his visit we noticed lots of large men dressed in slacks and sport coats standing on the street corners. I had to go to the hotel he was staying in during his visit, and the same men were there—and more of them. Being a very staunch supporter of the United States, the visit was a happy occasion and Mr. Rumsfeld was clearly an honored and welcomed guest.
It is hard to say how Mr. Bush was greeted. The press played up demonstrations and protests, but they were in fact negligible. People say that the protesters were not from the area, but were sent in by outside groups. Whether they represented the feelings of many I do not know, but my guess is that most of them were “regulars” who show up and make their presence known anywhere the president goes. Mexicans are very positive towards America, and towards Americans in particular. They are sensitive about not being seen or treated like an appendage to the United States, which makes sense—both historically and currently. They want and deserve to be treated as an equal and as a good neighbor and are insulted by the fence we are constructing along the border. But the number of Mexicans living in the United States and the economic assets they pour into Mexico, plus the money tourists and business add to the economy, are realities that most Mexicans recognize and appreciate.
For some Meridians the presidents’ visit was a slight inconvenience, as police and soldiers blocked off certain roads at certain times, and as from time to time checkpoints were set up. But for most it was just an interesting event, or a non-event. When I went to the airport to greet Kathi and Judy I noticed a line of cars stopped by the runway fence, a vantage point from which to see Air Force 1. Other than that views of the presidents were rare and life went on as usual. I hope they had a good meeting, and that something positive came out of it.
I have attached a couple of photos to this blog. One is of the land around the seminary, the front lawn of the Legters’ home. It is typical Yucatecan in being flat, with low trees or shrubs. The landscape has no hills, there are almost no rises of any kind to be seen. This makes cycling easy, but the 95+ temperature and the constant winds make up for the lack. There are no rivers or streams at all in the area, as the whole peninsula is a limestone slab and water flows beneath the surface in tunnels it has carved over the centuries. From time to time the rock which has been undermined will cave in and create a cenote, that is a natural well or pool. In such a case the water in the cenote is not on the surface, but at the level of the stream that created it—meaning the water level of the “well” is a ways down…
The other photo is of the car I usually drive—a loan from the Legters. Albania was a country or Mercedes, Mexico has traditionally been a country of the VW “bug”. Long after new bugs stopped being sold in the United States, they continued to be produced in Mexico and Brazil, and sold in large quantities in Mexico. I understand they were even subsidized by the government. In any case those days have now passed, and a greater variety of cars and many larger ones now fill the roads. But the trusty bug is everywhere—reminding me of my first car, a 1965 VW bug that I bought in Texas and drove in Mexico… Ahhhh the memories… And good ones.
Isn’t it wonderful that God has given humans the capacity to remember? Sometimes there are things we would like to forget, and sometimes there are things we should forget or need to forget. But memories also give us the capacity to relive the good times of life, and they challenge us to build on both the good times and the hard times to move into the future. The Bible consistently urges the people of God to remember. It reminds them to remember the past and its failures, and not repeat them. But even more it reminds them to remember the faithfulness of God—how he rescued and led and provided. Perhaps intentionally remembering would be a good thing to do every day. Perhaps it would be good to spend a few moments reflecting on the past and on the blessings of God, and on the hard times and the lessons in them. The Judeo-Christian faith is one of history. It is about God’s movement in history, and his moving history towards a climax. Perhaps it would be good to spend some time each day putting our unique place in history into focus—and particularly our history with God and his history and call to us. Numbers 15:40 says it this way, So you shall remember and do all my commandments, and be holy to your God.

In the next couple days I think we should go on a trip to a hacienda…How’s that for an idea??

Today is March 1, and looking back I see that the just-ended month of February was one of the more change-filled months for Nancy and Will in a long time. We left Tirana, Albania, on the first day of February, after heartfelt farewells in Albania, including a visit to a place where Paul preached and Nancy’s class goodbyes…From Albania it was on to London,
where we spent two days, including a trip to the

theater, then it was off to Lisburn, N. Ireland arriving in time for my 63rd birthday. After several very delightful days seeing friends and visiting the north coast of Ireland, plus making a contact that has now turned into a decision to serve as Summer Supply in a church in Dublin, we returned to London and were escorted to our hotel by police who had cordoned off our block due to a murder across the street. Next we were on to Greensboro, N. Carolina, for a wonderful time with our granddaughter, daughter and son-in-law—a time which included most importantly time with the granddaughter, but also a quick decision and purchase of a home very near to them. Then I flew off to Merida, Yucatan, where I will be spending the next six weeks teaching two classes, one on the Pauline Epistles and one on Preaching.
Nancy will not be with me as granddaughter, a Shoreline visit, a TESOL convention in Seattle, and a family reunion (sisters only) are scheduled in March. That amount of change will be hard to beat! But let me try to illustrate…
I am living in the new home of Dave and Jean Legters, which is on the seminary campus, so commuting is no problem. The home is a wonderful retreat, and nearly completed—except the floors are mostly rough cement. And the assistance Calvin gave to make it a reality is much appreciated.


Long ago a friend made this observation, Christ gives us cat’s feet, so that wherever we land we are right-side up. In the midst of all our changes, and they are very good changes, that sentiment is true. It is only 8 months since Nancy and I took the very difficult step of leaving Calvin and the wonderful people there, but our prayer that God would use this new phase in our lives seems to be becoming a reality. We are exceedingly grateful for the health and resources God has given us, but we are equally grateful for the places and people among whom those gifts can be used for the building of the kingdom. After all, that is what life is about—at this stage or at any stage.