A letter from David and Jeannene Wiseman in Guatemala
June 11, 2007
The clog and slog and scootch of mission service
Jesus said, “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings …” (Matthew 23:37)
Grace bubbles up in Maya-Ki'che village of Palamora.
It’s four days before my 60th birthday, and I’m home alone. Jeannene is attending a women’s retreat and I am sitting in a light-less house. I was scheduled to attend the dedication of a new church today in order to say a few words but received the early morning call that, because of heavy rains and washed-out roads, the event has been postponed. The rains have also knocked out our electricity. I just finished lunch: a frozen roll thawed and toasted over a candle with a slab of cheese in between. Such is life in Guatemala.
Friends from North Carolina sent a book for my birthday, neatly wrapped and awaiting the celebration. With the mesmerizing sound of raindrops on the rooftop and the computer out of commission, it’s a perfect day for reading. I unwrap the gift a few days early and discover Anne Lamott’s Grace (Eventually) in which “she recounts the missteps, detours and roadblocks in her walk of faith.” Her words resonate with my own experience here.
What I especially like about Anne Lamott is her honesty. She names the way things are without the sugar coating, without prettying things up. Often when I attempt to describe mission service in Guatemala, I feel compelled to make it sound noble and good, so that folks back home will marvel at what we do and continue to be generous in their giving. What I am discovering, however, is that mission supporters may want and need to be hearing more of the truth, namely that mission service, like all of life, has its share of missteps, detours and roadblocks.
For example, I frequently find myself caught in the middle of difficult power struggles and ecclesiastical roadblocks among church leaders and church factions; there are continuous allegations of mismanagement of funds and accusations of legal missteps both inside and outside the church; there are colliding philosophies among mission colleagues as to what is a well-thought-out strategy for mission and what is a detour from this sacred task. There are days when the challenges as a mission co-worker seem inconsequential and other days when they seem insurmountable. Though these are not issues unique to Guatemala alone, they somehow seem magnified here.
All that being said, I am grateful for the ways that the threads of grace are woven throughout this complicated tapestry. Unlike the brilliant colors typical to Guatemalan weavings, however, the threads of grace are often muted, subtler to the eye. One has to look in unexpected places.
Partners in pollo project, posing in front of chicken coop.
Last week I accompanied a mission delegation from a PC(USA) church in Austin, Texas, a trip initiated by their associate pastor, a former Young Adult Volunteer. The team worked in partnership with the Maya-Quiche Presbytery. Part of their mission service was to assist 25 indigenous women in launching a simple chicken project in order to supplement their meager incomes. Working shoulder to shoulder, the Austin group and the women constructed chicken coops, adopting the “design-as-you-go” method, resulting in some rather “innovative and nonconventional” structures.
The high and holy moment was when we heard the sound of cackles in the distance and the 250 pollos were delivered to the village. As the boxes of chickens were scootched across the floor, ready for distribution, Pastor Kathy, her first time praying in the presence of such a fowl congregation, offered a petition in words something like this: “O Lord, like a mother hen you gather us in and shelter us under your wings. Watch over these women as they begin their work and as they seek to support their families.” Each woman, equipped with a large, round basket and a smile of gratitude, received her 10 chickens — 5 yellow, 5 white — and proudly carried them home balanced on her head.
Learning the universal langauge of love in the midst of learning Ki’che.
The sky didn’t open up that day. There was no descending dove as at the Baptism of Jesus and no voice of God thundering forth. Nor were there choirs of angels to herald the moment. Simply the flurry of descending chicken feathers and a multitude of squawking hens, announcing that the Kingdom of God is at hand, in the midst of the ordinary and the every day.
Anne Lamott captures the essence of this experience when she writes, “I wish grace and healing were more abracadabra kinds of things; also that delicate silver bells would ring to announce grace’s arrival. But no, it’s clog and slog and scootch on the floor ….”
That’s how it often is in Guatemala. Grace abounds, eventually.
David
The 2008 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 258
