“Do not let the flood waters overwhelm me, nor the deep swallow me, nor the pit close its mouth over me.”
~ Psalm 69:16
The Amazon rainforest is an incredible, ever-changing, and living phenomenon. In it I stand within the warm embrace of its evergreen foliage and under the protection of its towering canopy. I inhale and exhale its sometimes stifling, but always life-giving, hot and humid breath. I observe its waking amidst its fog-dispersing sunrise and its falling asleep amidst its spellbinding sunset. I assess its nourishment in the rise and fall of its rivers’ waters. I listen to its voice in its natural chorus of harmonious birds, steady rain drops, and guttural toads. I sense the reality of its brokenness as I carefully dodge its multitude of disease-carrying and venomous creatures. And I am reminded of its hope when its colorful rainbow peaks out above the transient dark, gray storm clouds. In its dynamic, complex existence I see vessels of a broken world colliding with the current of God’s magnificent Creation. This current of infinite truth, beauty, and goodness always brings us back to shore where we encounter the fruits of faith, hope, and love.
It can be tempting to let the brokenness of the world swallow us up by giving in to its untamed waters or by attempting to navigate the storm as the captain of our own ship. But in each of these approaches lies a degree of uncertainty that we will make it through the torrent. Reflecting on this past year I see an ocean of uncontrollable waves violently crashing against a calm, unwavering shore. Thankfully, I’ve discovered, we have been gifted another way to navigate these turbid and tumultuous waters that are far beyond our control- the way of faithful, trustful surrender. And though it might be unnerving to let go of the ship’s helm and countercultural to allow oneself to be guided by an invisible sonar, it is often the only way to make it safely back to shore.
In the waves I see a new mother lose her life to a venomous snake bite. Distant access to care and corrupt government policies that neglect the country’s most vulnerable communities attempt to drag me under. Shortly after on the shore I see the priest come to give her earthly body a final blessing and I am reminded of the peaceful, everlasting life yet to come.
The next wave carries a young boy who fell from a tree; he is now paralyzed from the waist down. A deep wave of depression pulls him under, and from the depths of these dismal waters, he doesn’t see the sun for months. While acceptance brings him to the surface, hope and courage carry him to shore. I see the sun illuminate the smile on his face as he takes his wheelchair outside for the first time.
A mother watches her ten month-old daughter with Trisomy 18 take her last breath; in the same tumultuous wave I see thousands of other unborn children with her same condition who were never given the chance to take even one breath at all. Her mother stands brightly on the shore, a light of love and truth to all of those who never thought life was possible.
I see a man sustaining his sister above the waters; she suffers from terminal cancer, each passing moment that much harder to stay afloat. As cancer consumes her body I see faith nourishing her soul. When the last of the stormy waves envelops her body, she is already on the shore looking out over tranquil waters- not a single wave in sight.
Unable to stay afloat, a young child loses his sense of balance from a growing brain tumor. He is spotted from afar by an astute observer who brings him to shore where he now walks without fear.
An elderly woman sits abandoned in the middle of a sea of loneliness. Tethered by an oppressive anchor of pain and suffering, she is unable to move. A humble friar brings a doctor and her family out to meet her; a ray of hope calms the stormy sea around her as the others help carry even the smallest portion of her heavy burden.
I observe hundreds of people lost at sea, unable to see beyond the blinding mist kicked up by the crashing waves. A group of eye doctors volunteer their time and talent to open their eyes, the shore now clearly visible and not too far out of reach.
The violent waters carry a multitude of disempowered women unable to seek care because of fear and oppression. A team of doctors from thousands of miles away delivers shelter from the storm- their compassionate care provides women with preventative screening for cervical cancer. These women are now empowered to take their first step on secure land.
A young man is held under water by the stigma surrounding his medical diagnosis. He is only able to come up for air when doctors and nurses care for him in the hospital. Though the waves toss him around relentlessly, they cannot strip him of his dignity. When he finally washes up on the shore, he sees himself for who he truly is, all manmade labels and constructs dried up by the sun’s gentle, all-consuming warmth.
A tumultuous wave presents a family with the difficult decision to pursue palliative care for their loved one. Just as the waters rise so too does our friendship grow despite our differences. On the surface of the shore I am nourished and sustained by their gift of a pineapple, a symbol of their joy and gratitude.
A sudden wave crashes down on a mother who gives birth to her child with an unexpected defect. She is heartbroken as she realizes her infant is unable to feed at the breast due to a cleft lip and cleft palate. When, after a team of strangers rallies together to ensure she receives support and her child receives enough nutrition, the wave of despair subsides. In the end, I see a newborn just like any other lying on the calm shore of her mother’s embrace. And as the child learns to drink her mother’s milk from a bottle, a smile of hope returns to her mother’s face.
I witness a slow and steady wave of cancer suddenly separate the physical bond of husband and wife. As he floats away, the lives of all of those he has touched draw near. And though the despair of death is evident in the dark waters, the hope of resurrection is even more visible from the sunlit shore.
And in the midst of this dark and stormy sea often filled with hopelessness, fear, anxiety, disappointment, injustice, apathy, and suffering, I remember the group of carefree children who invited me to join them for a swim in the murky waters of the Napo River. In their humility, fearlessness, and sincerity, they remind me of the joy of a simple leap of faith.
More than one year has passed since these thoughts left my heart and mind only to land as words on a blank page in front of me. And reflecting on my first year in mission in Santa Clotilde, Peru, I realize these thoughts-become-words are now permanent, colorful realities blended together on the canvas with which I first embarked on this journey. Each pass over the canvas a singular and permanent mark, together all the brushstrokes comprise a complex and evolving picture. Despite this work in progress-the uncharted periphery of the canvas’ borders, the myriad mistakes clearly visible with careful attention, and the multiple attempts to reconcile its blemishes with new paint-its Author has already revealed to us the final product. All that remains is to acknowledge the imperfections, persevere in their restoration, willingly relinquish control of the brush, and patiently wait for His finishing touches. For it is faith that protects us from being swallowed up by stormy waters and trust that brings us back to the shore where we were meant to be all along.
