Mezquital Memories 2000

A pool of light in the inky black night. Dust rises into the air with each step to mix with insects that swirl in the lights suspended from a tall wooden cross.

Beyond the edge of light, a car passes with bass booming loud. Children laugh. Dogs bark.

To the east, round and orange, the moon rises to be transformed, high and white, bathing the weary dry land with its cold light.

A gentle breeze caresses wind chapped, sunburned cheeks, clearing the dust and insects for a moment.

Music. Pulsing. Singing. Dancing. Swaying. Clapping. Cheering. Silence. Hearts suspended between earth and heaven. Lives held in the balance. To go back, or walk a new path into an unknown future.

Life. Love. Tears. Laughter. Hands raised in worship. Knees bent in prayer. Eyes focused forward. Hearts focused upward. Tears pool and splash silently into muddy puddles. Peace starts in the heart and like a pebble dropped in a still pond, it ripples outward filling us with your love.

A new day. Cool. Crisp. Fingers comb knotted hair, crust wiped from weary eyes. The scent of water on dry earth. A hard-packed road with holes and stones lead us to our morning before your face.

Higher and hotter the sun climbs. We sit. We stand, drenched in sun. From Your heart to ours. Hearts molded. Lives changed. Songs draw us into your presence.

In a circle, hot sweat beading up and running down our bodies. A hush envelopes us. We are in a holy place. Song rises as incense on a gentle breeze to Your throne.

Tortillas - bread. Punch - wine. A holy meal. We remember that holy evening. Prayers and hearts rise to you oh Lord. Weary bodies, souls quickened. Quietly infused with the Spirit of deliverance.

Each life, a story, a scroll unrolled before You. A scroll drenched in Your blood. Forgiveness. Deliverance. Turning black to white. Healing wounds. Bringing life and light.

An intimate time with our Savior, our Friend. Sharing in His death. His poured out blood. His shattered body. Rising with Him. Freeing us from death to life. From confusion to direction.

His blood is a salve that coats our souls, our sin wracked bodies, our corrupt flesh that is rotting away with spiritual leprosy, making us as new as Adam and Eve on the First Day.

~ ~ ~

On a dry and dusty lot, under the shade of a cottonwood tree children came to play games. During that week hearts were forged into one. Year after year after year after year after year we come and offer our humble bread and fish into your hands, and you multiply them into a feast of love.

Some small ones are now nearly grown. A church stands where there was only a dirt lot. Our offering, pitiful and small has grown like a living tree. And like a tree our mutual love has grown and flourished.

Lord may each life be rooted in You, drawing daily renewal from your River of Life. Ever changing, degree by degree, hue by hue, as the sun at dawn, until our lives, our hearts wholly and completely are Yours.

lmv 4/22/2000