“You offered [me] faith without proof, love without coercion, a kingdom not of this world.”
The rain pours down, it’s melodious drops holding a steady beat as they strike the metal roof overhead. The rain’s constant song is interrupted by the heart-stopping crash of thunder that unpredictably follows the sudden flash of lightning illuminating the darkening sky. Scorching heat gives way to a cool, soothing breeze. When the unrelenting storm finally passes, the birds return to their late afternoon aerial excursions with an unintelligible but visibly exciting number. The earth completes its daily turn, and the song of the birds is replaced with the monotonous cacophony of toads, crickets, and cicadas. And as I lay my head down for the day I recall listening to the jungle’s beautiful, complex soundtrack for one last time. Its farewell, too, is filled with a downfall of melancholic tears, unexpected zaps of piercing heartbreak, secure warmth giving way to a distant coolness, soaring flights of grateful joy and nostalgia, and a noisy frenzy of uncertainty. Waking up the next morning, I embark on my last trip downriver, the boat’s blaring engine drowning out any sound of the jungle’s lively, sentimental song.
***
Three years have come and gone and it is time for the weary, fulfilled pilgrim to return home. It is time for God to gently place this fragile, frayed, and human paintbrush down and let the canvas temporarily dry as He prepares to make His next strokes. After three years, what does the painting look like? The painting in progress hadn’t become clear until recently, each and every detail playing a significant role in the overall picture. However, stepping back and looking through the Painter’s eyes, the image began to take form.
It is difficult to reflect in a few paragraphs on each and every encounter that made my heart more complete, more colorful, more human. However, as the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words. One afternoon as I walked my usual circuit around town, a young girl stopped me in my tracks to show me her work of art. A smile of utter joy and satisfaction lit up her face as she exclaimed, “¡Mira!” or “Look!” And this is what I saw:
“I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” ~ Ezekiel 36:26
Although I was sent to Santa Clotilde to meet a need, I have come to realize that God placed each person and each experience in my life to fill a need in my heart as well. God, my rock, stood before me, sustained me. Surrounded by living leaves of love- my patients, my friends, my neighbors- I learned from them how to live for others. Once scattered into pieces and leaving behind scratches and stains amidst the backdrop, my heart was slowly put back together, a reddish hue bringing forth color . And though it continues to be a heart of stone, this messy, beautiful canvas is still a work in progress just waiting for the Master Painter to make His finishing touches.
Every painting tells a story. The story behind this painting is too long to tell, the characters too numerous to count, but I will share the summary. Despite the difficult realities they face day after day, their faith is steadfast—from the poor, single mother who cares for her dying baby with unwavering devotion to the blind elderly woman who never misses an opportunity to receive Jesus in the Eucharist. Although I did not deserve to receive such affection, their love and kindness were always freely given to me: from the children who ran to embrace me during my afternoon walks along the streets to the people who shared with me the fruits of their meager harvest. Every time I entered their homes and traversed the Napo River, I felt as though I were entering sacred ground—from sharing masato (a fermented yucca beverage) under a leaf-thatched roof to traversing the river to a distant community to save a woman dying from hemorrhage. Their example of faith, love, and holiness transformed my life for the better, and I am eternally grateful for all we have shared and for their gifts of joy, humility, resilience, faith, and trust.
As I arrive to the port in the city of Iquitos where I begin my journey home, the boat comes to a stop and the whirring engine quiets. Suddenly the jungle’s divine melody comes to life again in my mind, it’s heavenly beat palpable in the depths of my heart. And as the faces of the ones I left behind flash vividly before me I am compelled to say, “You offered [me] faith without proof, love without coercion, a kingdom not of this world.”
