How quickly two months pass!

It has been a very busy two months, but it is coming to an end tomorrow when I fly back home to Greensboro. The weather here in Merida has been surprisingly cool—a few days over 100 degrees but most between 80 and 90. I’ve been able to get out almost every day for my 12-25 mile bike ride, but not once was the weather hot enough to entice me into my favorite swimming hole, Noc-ac cenote. The weather and busy schedule have even kept me from my annual weekend diving in Cozumel—but there is next year!

I have finished the three classes I was to teach. Homilética IV (fourth year Preaching) was a small class, with students I have had previously. Las Cartas Paulinas was much larger, with second year students, an in Extension I taught Las Parábolas de Jesús to a group of eight interested and engaging pastor. The preparation work for these classes involved creating PowerPoint presentations for the class sessions, preview presentations for the students and a final presentation which I posted on the web. For the Parábolas class I also put together a small booklet on the parables. And all in less than perfect Spanish. Adding to the mix was grading and testing. In short it has been a very busy time! But a wonderful one…

In between class work I did have wonderful opportunities to share in the life and ministry of the people and churches here in Merida and the villages of the Yucatan. I was invited almost every weekend to preach in one of the local churches, and accompanied my hosts Dave (Bito) and Jean Legters on several of their trips to big and small churches all around the state and beyond. I was the chauffeur a good deal of the time, including every Thursday night when I took Jean downtown to her choir practice, where she has served Divino Salvador as accompanist for many years. On those nights I ritually marched down to the center plaza of Merida to a small pizza place and enjoyed what I consider to be the finest pizza in the city. Bito and Jean enjoyed a piece or two as well. I was able to attend a 50th wedding anniversary celebration in one village (as I related last entry) and a 3 year old baptism (which was riotous as the one being baptized was so terrified that he fled the sanctuary just when he was to be baptized…) in another. I ate at the festivities and watched as children and adults scrambled for the goodies pouring out of a broken piñata.

Nancy was with me for about half the time I have been here, but had grandma duties back home plus a TESOL conference in Boston. Of course life is better when she is around, but sometimes other duty calls.

The highlight of the two months has to have been the short visit of all the family. Emily, Steve, Jacques, and Colette were here for a short 5 days, and JJ was here for the weekend they were here. JJ´s coming from San Francisco was a surprise we arranged for the Content family—they did not know that she was coming. I wish I could have seen the face of the two little ones at the Houston airport when they turned around and saw a very familiar face (tía) in a very strange airport and learned that they were all going to be on the same flight! In any case we spent one day in Celestún, on a boat seeing the flamingoes and maneuvering through the jungle to the Ojo de Agua where we could swim in the place the springs fed fresh water to the salty sea marsh. That plus ruins plus hunting down acquaintances Emily had made while here on mission trips—it was a full and wonderful time.



As life goes on I continue to revert to the same theme, that our sojourn on earth is made up of chapters, each with a beginning a middle and an end. Some are short and some are long, some are wonderful and others are challenging. And now this short chapter ends and another begins. It is always a joy and honor to be received in this part of the world. The Legters are an example of faithful ongoing service that challenges me, and their deep friendship and amazing hospitality (including let me invite 20 or more students over several nights to watch a movie) means much to me. The commitment of the seminary faculty and staff, and the hard work of the students, inspires me and makes me grateful to be able to say that I am a part of El Seminario Teológico Presbiteriano San Pablo. And the life that people live here, often a hard life, but one that with faith in Christ has hope and meaning—that is something to marvel at.

In the class I taught on Paul´s letters, I once again was challenged by his writings, and particularly by his final letter, 2 Timothy. That letter contains little systematic doctrine or correction of church life, it is a farewell from a senior church leader to his most beloved companion and apprentice. It is a book to be felt more than to be analyzed. It is a book of pain (he is in prison, deserted by many, and awaiting his execution), but one of tremendous hope as well. Much of that hope is in the promise of God to him, the promise we all have been given and which we read about in Paul´s writings. But much of that hope and confidence was also in his ability to look back at his life, with its various chapters, and say, I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith… To be able to say that at the end of life ought to be our goal at the beginning. When the gun sounds and race begins we should keep our eye on the finish line and run towards it. And when the way gets hard and the energy gets low, we should keep our eye on that line as well. That is the purpose of life, and that purpose gives it meaning—plus what Paul soon received, the crown of righteousness.

The first week of classes is finished, and it seems to have gone well. I have found the classroom, received a list of students, figured out how to arrange the canon (PowerPoint projector), and engaged the students in both Las Epístolas Paulinas (class photos here) and Homilética.


At the seminary the weekly schedule of classes begins Monday at around 10 in the morning and concludes around noon on Thursday. After the last class of the week there is a chapel in a church adjacent to the seminary, then the students go to their campo, their place of ministry and service. Every student has at least one campo, and the professors do as well.

The campo is always a church, and while some are in the city of Merida, most are outside the city in one of the small rural Mayan villages that dot the jungles of the Yucatan. The students go to their campo and stay there, usually sleeping in a hammock in a room in the church. They arrive when they can on Thursday or Friday, and stay until the last church service is held, which is usually Sunday evening. Then the student returns to Merida, to the dorms, and begins classes Monday. Since some of the campos are as far as five hours by bus (almost all students travel by bus) this often means arriving in the village on Thursday evening and returning to the seminary in the early morning hours on Monday. Quite a schedule!

Some of the churches compensate the students a bit, but many only receive enough support from the church to pay for the bus to and from the campo. Their meals are provided by members of the church (cooked in a kitchen like that in the photo), and their ministry includes visitation, youth work, worship leading and teaching and preaching. Many of the students are in effect pastors of the churches they serve, and most of the churches are very small and have no other staff of any kind.


The professors usually serve as the pastor of one of the larger churches in the area, but that does not mean the church is large. Or that the building is expansive. Or that the compensation is generous. What it does mean is that both student and professor work hard and for little remuneration. In fact the seminary life here is one which is so demanding that I doubt many seminary students or staff in the United States would tolerate it for very long. But it is the way of life here…

Last night I heard a rustle of footsteps outside my window, then the music began. I went to the front door and there was most of the student body of the seminary—they were there to serenade me for my 65th birthday. I was very surprised and honored as they gathered around and, with two Mexican guitar accompanists, sang traditional Mexican fiesta and cumpleaño songs and shouted the usual Mexican cries of enthusiasm. When the singing was over each person came up to me, hugged or shook my hand and said a few words of blessing for my birthday. Then they went back to the dorms. Their genuine expressions of blessing and well-wishing were moving to me, while I must admit that their appearance was amusing. The weather here has not been hot since my arrival—it only reached 86 degrees yesterday and the evening was cool enough that I put on a long sleeved tshirt-but it was amusing to me that to the people here it was so cold that the singers were dressed in heavy coats, hats and scarves. As they sang they reminded me of Christmas carolers back home, and I guess the air to them felt like winter snow to us…


Such is the stuff of life here. Teaching classes, getting to know people, and sharing in life in another culture. Once again I am thankful to God for the opportunity to enrich and to be enriched—for his call to serve and the blessings it brings. Giving to others while learning to see faith through their eyes is one of the great joys of life. It is the body of Christ in its diversity and humanity, the way it was meant to be. And Nancy and I get to be a part of it!

The other day it rained. And it rained hard and long. Two days later I went out on my bike to do my little 12 mile circuit and I noticed a gorgeous tree. It was large and well shaped, and covered with beautiful bright pink flowers. It was particularly striking because it stood out in the stark environment of this area of the Yucatan. Being so taken by its beauty I wanted to take a photo to share with others, and to remember myself. So I told myself that the next day I would be sure to take my camera with me on my ride.

But the next day I forgot and the next day I was out of town and it wasn't until the third day that I remembered, took my camera and headed out to capture the beauty. However, when I came to the tree it had changed. The flowers had fallen off and it was now as stark and bare as anything around it. I had lost the chance to take the grand photo and was left with this one instead...

And as I thought about that I thought about life and the opportunities we have and our response to those opportunities. I thought about how time-sensitive some of those opportunities are--about how if we do not take advantage of them at the moment they are in front of us, we may never be able to at all.


Long ago I made a vow not to live life with a lot of "if onlys"... What I mean is not that I should try everything there is to try, because there are plenty of things that should not be done and which if done will inevitably lead to serious problems. But what I mean is to try to live life in such a way that I say "Yes" to positive opportunities when they present themselves. What I mean is that at the end of life I do not want to have to look back on a long list of things I could have done, doors I could have walked through, experiences I could have had--and that would have been positive--but that I failed to do or try.

Long ago I heard a story of a mother who was preparing supper when her young daughter came in and said, excitedly, "Mommy, come out and look at the beautiful sunset with me!" Busy with the food the mother replied, "I will in a minute, but first you go and wash up for supper." Slowly the daughter walked obediently to the bathroom and emerged just moments later, with clean hands. Then, after finishing the final details of the meal, the mother took her hand and walked out--only to see the faded tail end of the beauty that had been the sunset. The moment was missed... I do not want to miss the moments!

Last week I was at an evening chapel service in the seminary when someone came in and said that there was a lunar eclipse in process. I hurried outside, saw it was true, and then ran back to the house where Nancy was. I shouted at her to come outside, which she did, and together we watched as the shadowed moon grew bigger and bigger. It was beautiful. Had I waited long to tell her what was happening, she would have missed it and watching it together would not have happened. That special moment was not missed.

I don't know if the tree I saw in all its glory will bloom again while I am here. I doubt it. But if it does I will most assuredly take a photo right away! I missed that one, and may never have a second chance. But I want that to be the exception, not the rule...I want to say "Yes" to the opportunities God places in my way, not "No" and, perhaps even more importantly, not "Later". I want to remember that sunsets fade and trees lose their blossoms. I want to remember the words of Ecclesiastes 3, There is a time for everything under heaven. I think that is part of God's plan for each of us--part of making the most of the days, the hours and the minutes we have been given on this earth. I think that is at least one piece of what the Adventure of Living is all about...

The experiences I have when in Mexico are varied, often interesting, and regularly a surprise. Last weekend my hosts, Dave (Bito) and Jean Legters, were making a short trip to Cancun so that Bito could teach a class as part of the seminary’s extension program. So Nancy and I hitched a ride with them.

The drive takes about four hours on the toll road, and goes mile after mile through desolate, flat Yucatecan scenery. The whole of the Yucatan is a limestone slab, which gives little soil for growing things. As a result there are not many tall trees, but there are lots of thick low bushes, that fill the earth.

When we arrived in Cancun we found ourselves behind a trailer carrying two llamas, a very small pony, and a brown bear..then we dropped Bito and Jean off at the church where he was teaching, and made our way to Cecilia's house, a young woman who had lived with us as an exchange while we were in Clarkston, many years ago.
She is an architect, her husband a landscape designer, and they have two children. It was great to see them all, their wonderful home and to share a meal in an Italian restaurant right on the beach. While Ivars at Lake Union has a lot going for it, eating under a tent within feet of the lapping Caribbean, with the temperature in the 80’s as we ate dinner, does have something going for it!

The next morning Nancy and I had breakfast with Rafael Sanchez and his wife, Valya. Rafael is a Mexican and Valya a Ukrainian, and they met thanks to invitations each had received to share in the ministry of Calvin Presbyterian Church in Seattle. The world is becoming smaller… Rafael teaches music at several venues while Valya works in a travel agency, but the big news was that their first baby is due any day. Sharing in their world, their joy and their life was great.

Next we picked Bito and Jean up and headed back to Merida. The drive seemed a bit longer partly as the air conditioning in the car had decided to die, but also as we took a detour to Ek-Balam, a recently developed and unique Mayan archeological site. When the Spaniards first came to this part of the world they established a headquarters at Valladolid, near Ek-Balam, but they moved to Merida within a couple years because it was much closer to the sea and their lifeline—their ships.



While the Spaniards were in Valladolid the priest-ruler of Ek-Balam, not wanting to see his sacred sites profaned, enlisted his subjects in the task of burying them. This was not easy as the sites were large pyramids, but the project was successful and the Spaniards never knew they were there. Soon the jungle grew over the buried pyramid-temples and as generations went on their existence was lost to memory Only recently discovered and uncovered, the sites offer an unparalleled picture of life at the turn of the first millennium—the period when Ek-Balam was built.

Particularly interesting are the statues and decorations which, being buried, have withstood the ravages of time very well. The Mayan road leading into the complex is clearly visible, the temples are there, and the art is amazing. The visit was unexpected, and well worth the time.

Back in Merida there are classes to give, churches to visit, and people to interact with. One evening finds Nancy and me at a small village church where I have been invited to give a message about love for Valentine’s Day. Another finds us at the large downtown Presbyterian Church, either attending or delivering the sermon I have been invited to preach. My classes take many hours of preparation, but that itself is a joy…

In short, while being away from family (i.e. granddaughter) is not fun, Nancy and I are at the right place and doing the right thing. It is varied and interesting for us, and prayerfully helpful for the people we are and can be with. The words of Proverbs 3 are certainly true, 5Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; 6 in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. I would translate that also as make your paths an adventure. And we are thankful for the path we are on.

Last year getting bike in box from bus to ferry at Cozumel.

While I pack as little as possible when I travel, knowing that what I might not bring will probably be available where I am heading, my bicycle is a different matter. If I am going to be some place for a length of time, it goes where I go. But as I like to say, a bike is a vehicle well designed to carry people, but not well designed to be carried by people. So I look for the best bag or box or whatever—something big enough to put the bike in but small enough to be somewhat manageable. This means that when bike and box must go together, creatively using local transport for bike transport. On the other hand, if the travel is the beginning of a trip, it has to be something that can be discarded at the destination. Which raises the question of what to do when leaving someplace with an item that airlines require to be somewhat disassembled and secured in an appropriate box or bag, when the required container is almost never available at the airport itself.

All of this is to say that when preparing for Merida a week ago I debated about leaving fenders on my bike—a truly trivial debate. Fenders weigh next to nothing but they do take up space, make the machine more difficult to disassemble, and can be broken. Why, I thought, when I am going to a place that will be near 100 degrees many days, would I have any need for something the only use of which is to prevent dirty water from soaking one’s backside when it rains…

In the end, I did not have to compromise size for convenience, as a very kind employee of Continental Airlines (non-solicited plug) at the Greensboro Airport left his post and fifteen minutes later emerged with two, not one but two, nice new cardboard boxes especially designed for bicycles on airlines. They are very large and accommodate a bike with almost no disassembling at all—a real treasure and at no charge to me.



Well, today I realized why leaving fenders at home would not have been a good idea. I headed out on a little exercise ride, it clouded up, and it rained. I should have remembered that despite the heat, or rather because of the heat, afternoon rains are a part of the world here. They are not unpleasant because the temperature is still in the 80’s and the rain itself is warm, but they could be if one were subjected to a constant stream of muddy warm water constantly spewing off rotating tires onto chin and back and other body parts for a period of time. So riding in the rain, on uncrowded byways past old haciendas and fields of brush, was and I am certain will be just fine because I brought my fenders.

However, the experience did cause me to reflect on Ireland, and the different experiences we can have in different places. Last summer Nancy and I had a wonderful two months with wonderful people in Dublin—and it rained every day. It was some kind of century record for rain in Ireland, which is saying something. And the strange thing is that while I chose to get out and cycle almost every day, I never really got wet. The rain just seemed to pause and the sun often broke through the clouds as I headed onto the road. In short, I realized that I would not really have needed fenders in rainy Ireland, whereas it is very nice to have them in hot and sunny Yucatan.

And what did this cause me to ponder? The unexpected things that come into our lives. Preparing for things that by all rights should happen but do not. And not being prepared for things that by all rights should not happen but do. And especially, but not uniquely, as we travel. The point is that if we think we are or even can be in control, we are very wrong. If we think we are prepared for any contingency, we are very wrong. One of the truths of life is that we are not in control, and that the unexpected happens—both good and bad.



I guess in that reality there are two lessons. One is to not get too worried when what we think should happen or have prepared for doesn’t come about. The other is to rejoice in the fact that God’s hand is in everything. This is not a fatalistic presence but a personal and powerful one. As Paul wrote in Romans 8:28, Ahora bien, sabemos que Dios dispone todas las cosas para el bien de quienes lo aman, los que han sido llamados de acuerdo con su propósito. (I am in Mexico!...But for English speakers, We know that in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose.)

Changing worlds, changing lives, plans that have to be altered, disappointments, serendipities, at home with the most familiar or far away in a different culture—in all times and places God is present and at work—for good in and through those who love him…