Reflections on an early Wednesday morning -
- An ornate Daoist temple flush with the smoke of incense and the visit of thousands bearing prayers to ancestors. . .
- Around the corner from a blue jean factory, a simple upper room, plain but for a cross and the angelic voices of a visiting choir and the message shared: God's grace is sufficient for you, for me!
- A city bustling with traffic and high rises with laundry drying from every balcony. . .
- A village long ago abandoned by parents seeking opportunity afar. Spent houses bearing laundry of an older generation and the few grandchildren they care for. The clothes dry next to swept common areas that now have rice drying from the harvest. . .
-The dense, pungent odors from a city's "wet" market: fish and fowl, alive until the order is made, then whack! The knife falls and a new smell rises to join the many others. . .
- Intense heat of a glass bottle factory. . . The noonday heat of a country kiln burning fiercely to fire the bricks that build growing, swelling cities. . .
- The radient smile of a woman growing peppers, married, with children, and the constant rhythm of weeding and laundry. A laugh at the humanity we share. . .
- The joy-filled smile of my son, biking the countryside, absorbing the sights and sounds and smells of the province. The time with friends and with me. A gentle hello accompanied by a small toy to a young child. A smile, a thank you, a laugh, and onward. Content, wiser by God's grace.
- An ornate Daoist temple flush with the smoke of incense and the visit of thousands bearing prayers to ancestors. . .
- Around the corner from a blue jean factory, a simple upper room, plain but for a cross and the angelic voices of a visiting choir and the message shared: God's grace is sufficient for you, for me!
- A city bustling with traffic and high rises with laundry drying from every balcony. . .
- A village long ago abandoned by parents seeking opportunity afar. Spent houses bearing laundry of an older generation and the few grandchildren they care for. The clothes dry next to swept common areas that now have rice drying from the harvest. . .
-The dense, pungent odors from a city's "wet" market: fish and fowl, alive until the order is made, then whack! The knife falls and a new smell rises to join the many others. . .
- Intense heat of a glass bottle factory. . . The noonday heat of a country kiln burning fiercely to fire the bricks that build growing, swelling cities. . .
- The radient smile of a woman growing peppers, married, with children, and the constant rhythm of weeding and laundry. A laugh at the humanity we share. . .
- The joy-filled smile of my son, biking the countryside, absorbing the sights and sounds and smells of the province. The time with friends and with me. A gentle hello accompanied by a small toy to a young child. A smile, a thank you, a laugh, and onward. Content, wiser by God's grace.
Beautiful, beautiful words. It's as if we're right there with you. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteMara, Mel's mom
Thank you for capturing the moment for all of us back home!! I can smell it, hear the sounds and experience the joy in your hearts. I hope you capture every moment and because I cannot wait to hear about the whole experience! God's richest blessings to you all!
ReplyDeletethank you for your insight and thoughts so beautifully written, We can't wait to hear more. Love, Mom and Dad
ReplyDelete