Ecuador: Time (or why clocks can't hold hands)

In less than three weeks, we're planning to leave Cuenca. All the mountains, the Centro, working in the lab, visits to Paute, night outings with the family, cafecito, trips to some of the most exotic places I've ever been... it's almost over, and I'm ready to head back. But I still have time left, and if I plan on being any kind of decent, I'll live the stuff I written in this blog so far.

With so much going on back home, it's been difficult living here. My family is moving this summer, something I've NEVER done before. Our new house is being built. I've been chosen as PA (Taylor's version of RA) of my floor next year, and I'm missing the PA class as I try to handle my first PA decisions overseas. All kinds of relationships have been put on hold, some are struggling or stressful or changing. I've formed new relationships here with all kinds of people, some of those will continue, but many will end as well.

I've named this post "Time" because the theme has been showing up in my life as of late. And it's not just because my time here is winding down. I've realized how much I depend on the clock to direct my life. For example, my host family enjoys not telling me that they have an outing planned until literally hours before the event (they had planned out my entire Saturday, through 3pm, and didn't tell me until ten o'clock last night. Not to mention that last week we almost took an overnight trip with a few hours notice. For fun.) When I DID find out that we were going somewhere the next morning, I asked my sisters when we were leaving. They told me, in all seriousness: "In the morning."

Touché.

No, no. "What hour are we leaving?" I was told 9 am. We didn't leave until eleven.

I feel that here would be a good place to insert an intelligent quote by a formerly-intelligent-but-currently-dead man on the subject of time, but I don't especially want to take the time to look one up.

Talk about getting the culture gap smashed in your face; why did it take me till now to figure this out? In America, time is exact, to the minute, the second even. Here... take your sweet time. Showing up half an hour late is showing up "on time" to many events. The clocks in Ecuador are really just here for decoration and mild suggestion.

I really was under the impression that I was a flexible sort of person, at least in comparison with my friends. Compared to these people, I got a lot to learn. I've been wondering if I've been letting the clock control my life lately, especially in all my eagerness to get home. I wake up in the morning, count how many days I have left here, and then count back that many days to get an idea of how long it will feel. I've always watched the clock in boring classes, during boring events, basketball practices, and even during events I really enjoy, just to see how much time I have left. Time. I'll take mine measured to the second, nicely packaged, ready to ship.

Now, don't get me wrong. If we ignore time and just live in the moment, we lose sight of it's value. It's like drinking a milkshake without looking at the glass. How big is the glass? How much delicious Oreo shake is left? If you drink it too slow, it will all melt into a warm puddle, if you drink it too fast, it'll be gone before you know it, and you'll have a lovely brain freeze. So pacing yourself is a good thing. Even Jesus did that, constantly reminding his disciples before his death that his time was short. They knew this way what kind of time they had to work with, they knew the value of soaking up every single one of Jesus' precious words, and the importance of remembering them. However, we can fall on the other extreme, and watch the descending level of milkshake so obsessively that we don't enjoy all that Oreo goodness. Or, in other words, we can spend all of our time with the clock instead of the people around us. Clocks can't hold hands, or even lend us one to help. They can't point us in the right direction. That's people. Time is a tool to help us realize the value of the relationships that keep us in step.

So when you spend time with God, family, friends, people you wish would move Madagascar, stop looking at the clock. Use the clock, live by the people.

He said, "That you love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and muscle and intelligence—and that you love your neighbor as well as you do yourself." -Luke 10:27 (The Message)

Ecuador: Practice what you Pray

Once upon a time, a God-fearing pastor was trapped on the roof of his house by a massive flood. But since he was a God-fearing man, he was unafraid. He simply prayed that God would rescue him from danger.


Soon a man in a motor boat floated by. When he saw the pastor, he back-paddled hard against the current and shouted to the him, "Hey you! Get in boat, there's room!"


But the pastor was a God-fearing man, so he smiled and responded "No, thanks, God's going to save me."


The water level continued to rise, and soon some kids floated by on a large raft. When they saw the pastor, they also shouted to him to come with them in the raft. But, being the God-fearing man that he was, the pastor smiled and waved them off saying, "No, thanks. God's going to save me."


The flood continued to rise, and the pastor was up to his knees in water when a rescue helicopter flew in and positioned itself right above him. A member of the Coast Guard was lowered down to the pastor, yelling at him, "We've got you now! You're safe!"


But since the pastor was a God-fearing man, he calmly informed his rescuer that help was unnecessary. "No thanks," he said once again, "God's going to save me."


The flood continued to rise, and rise, and eventually, the pastor drowned.


On entering the gates of heaven (it may be noted here that Billy Graham was actually standing at St. Peter's usual post that day while he went to get some lunch) the pastor was ushered in to meet his Maker. When the pastor saw God, he asked him "Lord, I trust You completely, but I don't always understand Your ways. Why didn't You save me from the flood?"


God rolled His celestial eyes and sighed. "Kid, I sent you a boat, a raft, and a helicopter. It's you I don't understand."

I don't remember where I first heard this story, but I remembered it just a few days ago, when a friend reminded me to practice what I pray.

I have been praying recently that God would give me the desire to fully participate in and enjoy life in Ecuador. It a great opportunity, and I don't want to ruin the last few weeks with my impatience to get back to the states. So I prayed. And prayed some more. I began to wonder why God seemed unwilling to give me a changed heart.

Thank God for best friends, upon whom I can release a myriad of disorganized frustrations for them to sort through. I tried my best to put these frustrations into words, and I was simply told to start doing.

Go. Get out there. Dwell on the awesome. Throw yourself into activities. Faith is a verb, and so is enjoy. Enjoy it! God is sending me helicopters, daily opportunities to change my 'tude, and here I am waiting for Him to show up in the flesh and cast a magic 'tude-changing spell on my heart.

If we simply pray and sit tight, waiting for God to fix everything, we might as well be standing dumbly on the roof, waiting for God to rescue us as he tries to rescue us. So I went to a home church gathering. I decided to enjoy it. And I did! I listened carefully to the rapid-Spanish conversations, chimed in when possible, and chatted with a couple people individually for much longer than I thought possible. I was proud of me.

If you read this and pray for me, pray that, above all, I will wake up and get on the helicopter God is offering me so that I can enjoy my last few weeks in Ecuador to the full. =)

"Come close to God, and God will come close to you." -James 4:8a