"The tree that grows crooked will never straighten." -- Spanish saying
In my writing class, we discussed various sayings in Spanish, and the above was one of them. I have been reminded through various conversations and observations that although many people my age imagine the great big world of growing up, we don't always recognize that the choices (however small) that we make today ultimately lead us to the directions of tomorrow. Thus, I like the above saying because I know that the days that I pass here are a step toward the promises of tomorrow. I want my everyday choices to reflect the person I hope to be.
In other thoughts, before I left, I read Isaiah 26, and I have been stuck on it ever since:
Stretch the Borders of Life
At that time, this song
will be sung in the country of Judah:
We have a strong city, Salvation City,
built and fortified with salvation.
Throw wide the gates
so good and true people can enter.
People with their minds set on you,
you keep completely whole,
Steady on their feet,
because they keep at it and don't quit.
Depend on God and keep at it
because in the Lord God you have a sure thing.
Those who lived high and mighty
he knocked off their high horse.
He used the city built on the hill
as fill for the marshes.
All the exploited and outcast peoples
build their lives on the reclaimed land.
The path of right-living people is level.
The Leveler evens the road for the right-living.
We're in no hurry, God. We're content to linger
in the path sign-posted with your decisions.
Who you are and what you've done
are all we'll ever want.
Through the night my soul longs for you.
Deep from within me my spirit reaches out to you.
When your decisions are on public display,
everyone learns how to live right.
If the wicked are shown grace,
they don't seem to get it.
In the land of right living, they persist in wrong living,
blind in the splendor of God.
You hold your hand up high, God,
but they don't see it.
Open their eyes to what you do,
to see your zealous love for your people.
Shame them. Light a fire under them.
Get the attention of these enemies of yours.
God, order a peaceful and whole life for us
because everything we've done, you've done for us.
O God, our God, we've had other masters rule us,
but you're the only Master we've ever known.
The dead don't talk,
ghosts don't walk,
Because you've said, "Enough--that's all for you."
and wiped them off the books.
But the living you make larger than life.
The more life you give, the more glory you display,
and stretch the borders to accommodate more living!
O God, they begged you for help when they were in trouble,
when your discipline was so heavy
they could barely whisper a prayer.
Like a woman having a baby,
writhing in distress, screaming her pain
as the baby is being born,
That's how we were because of you, O God.
We were pregnant full-term.
We writhed in labor but bore no baby.
We gave birth to wind.
Nothing came of our labor.
We produced nothing living.
We couldn't save the world.
But friends, your dead will live,
your corpses will get to their feet.
All you dead and buried,
wake up! Sing!
Your dew is morning dew
catching the first rays of sun,
The earth bursting with life,
giving birth to the dead.
Come, my people, go home
and shut yourselves in.
Go into seclusion for a while
until the punishing wrath is past,
Because God is sure to come from his place
to punish the wrong of the people on earth.
Earth itself will point out the bloodstains;
it will show where the murdered have been hidden away.
I don't know that I have anything profound to offer in terms of that passage, but it sticks with me throughout the day. Many of its sentiments echo the place that I find myself better than I could ever verbalize.
Our second day of classes went well although I found today to be more daunting than yesterday. I enjoy all of my classes. My professors are incredibly intelligent, and I appreciate that amidst learning more grammar and vocabulary, they are also insisting that I think critically of the texts that we use (that are often written from a European standpoint).
It's amazing to realize how much of the lives of Mexicans, and, I believe, Central Americans stems from actions or struggles of their ancestors. There is power in generational choices which, for me, relates back to the saying about the tree. My choices today don't just affect me; I want a life that creates a strong foundation to hold up future generations. I hear of the selfishness and the forceful agendas of Cortes and the other conquistadors, and I am heartbroken to see how their choices resulted in the pain, struggle, and discrimination of masses of indigenous people. I think of Alvin Anderson and the way that his life choices at the ripe age of 22 led to the help and hope of thousands of young Central Americans which will have a ripple effect on generations to come. From these examples, I know that it's not enough to live what I may think is a "good life." I'm sure in some cases, the conquistadors thought that what they were doing was right. Culturally and socially, they were doing what was expected of them from their peers and masters in Europe. They brought their own agendas of religion and "civilization." Yet, they destroyed the ways of life of thriving peoples. They carried the name of Jesus to people who had never heard of Him as they killed, stole from, and raped those that had done them no harm. Their actions triggered a ripple effect that has harmed the people they came to "save" for years, yet perhaps, in their justifications and the like, they still believed that what they were doing was good. I know that of my own understanding, I will never know what is good for another person or even truly how to love another person in the specific way that they need. I cannot see the bigger picture of what is best for myself and others. Thus, I want my heart to echo the prayer of Mother Theresa: "Ask Jesus not to allow me to refuse Him anything, however small." I know that it is only in surrendering every aspect of life to the One who sees the woven tapestry of life that I can walk accordingly in real love for others, leaving a legacy of hope with the tiny thread I carry.
I leave you with a bit from Mother Theresa that was written in the book I've been reading, Come Be My Light:
Cheerfulness is a sign of a generous and mortified person who forgetting all things, even herself, tries to please her God in all she does for souls. Cheerfulness is often a cloak which hides a life of sacrifice, continual union with God, fervor and generosity. A person who has this gift of cheerfulness very often reaches a great height of perfection. For God loves a cheerful giver and He takes close to His heart the religious He loves.
I hope as much can be said of me some day.
With Love,
Sarah
No comments:
Post a Comment