Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.

Writings

The Road


The sun was shining and I stepped out the door with excitement.  I was excited to have the opportunity to walk the road on this beautiful day.  I was looking forward to the solitude and the time enjoying God’s beautiful creation.   Maybe I would have a chance to see some old friends along the way or maybe not.  Either way, I was going to enjoy my time on the road.  You never know what surprises will lay around the next corner.  You never know what people you will meet while walking along.

 The quietness on the road is only interrupted by the beautiful sounds of nature or the one or two vehicles that happen to pass by.  I feel at home.  The bus from the market passes me and drops people off.  I see villagers carrying all their produce walking along together to their little village.  All the women are dressed in their traditional colorful Mayan dresses.  I pass a girl making wapiles to the backdrop of enormous green mountains.  I see men working their land on the steep slopes.  I pass the occasional cow, horse, or sheep.  Every once in a while I will pass walkers heading the other direction carrying bundles of wood to fuel their stoves.  We greet one another, and continue our journeys down the road.  I pass through tiny villages.  People are always curious, asking where I am going.  I stop and talk with a family who wonder about me, why I am walking the road.  I give them a destination but then explain that I walk because I love the road.  I feel alive and the ways of my life begin to make sense in my mind.  I feel peace, clarity, and wisdom.  The ebbs and flows of my life are put in their proper perspective.  Things in my life that once felt like strong winds and huge waves begin to feel like a light breeze and tiny ripples.  God speaks with me on the road and reminds me of His creation.

I get lost in time, only enjoying the moment.  I sit down at a spot overlooking a cliff.  I see miles down the road, and a village way off in the distance.  I open a book and read.  The quiet is deafening.

I arrive to a familiar village, one I had developed a relationship with at another time in my life.  Things feel the same, yet different.  A woman catches up with me and talks with me, she leads to me to an old friend and we greet one another.  He is working with other men, building a new school for the village.  I go to his house and visit with his family for just brief minutes before they leave to work their land.  I head back to the road, back home.  A girl waves me over.  I talk with her and her mom.  Then I continue on.   I wave to the family working their land as I walk up the hill.  My legs are tired but my soul feels well.  I stop and rest when a pick-up truck comes barreling up the road.  I wave it down and hop in the back.  The road goes faster and I miss the slower pace.  The truck stops and two men and two boys with shovels pile in the back, coming off a hard day’s work.  I arrive back to my town.  My time on the road has ended and my energy is renewed.

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