Mexican mariachi in a Bolivian celebration for two Oregonians

The past two weekends we’ve been heavily involved in gatherings of Friends leaders from around the Bolivian yearly meeting. Our history team has been sharing some of the findings of our investigations, especially of the past 28 years. (We talked about earlier periods in previous meetings.)

We’ve all been concerned about the lack of growth of the church. For the first 75 years, the Friends Church here added numerous congregations each decade. But since 1990, we’ve hovered right around 200 congregations. Some of the confusion comes in realizing that while the national missionary movement has added churches in new areas, at the same time an equal number of churches in other areas have closed.

So we’ve been talking about this, analyzing and reflecting, trying to discern causes and figure out how to move into the next 100 years (or at least the next 25 years) in a healthy way. The discussions have been hard, but necessary.

But even with this hard stuff, the Bolivian Friends Church is a celebrating church. And last Saturday afternoon, after a long, exhausting day of wrestling with the issues, we celebrated. Hal loves to visit with people after meetings and we’re usually the last to leave the premises. This time, as we were talking to Palermo and Hipólito, Reynaldo came and told us to hurry down to the fellowship hall for tea before we left. He then took us by the sleeve so we had to accompany him.

As we walked into the large room, a Mexican mariachi band began playing and people opened up a path for us. There in the front of the room was a three-layer cake with the words, “Happy 50^th Anniversary, Hal and Nancy!” We were totally surprised. People clapped and yelled and made a lot of good un-Quakerly Latin American noise.

The celebration lasted a while, with everyone lining up to personally give us an abrazo and a blessing. The cake was yummy, the people even better. The band played the whole time. We learned that they were from the Cordillera Quarterly Meeting, a Bolivian Quaker mariachi band!

With all the hard stuff, the church is still the church. Lack of love is not one of the reasons for lack of growth!

(This was the third 50^th anniversary celebration we’ve been treated to so far this year by Bolivian Quakers. And our actual anniversary isn’t until August.)

Words of congratulations by Friends president Hector Castro

Friends women bless us

How good to celebrate with friends!

49 and counting

Who celebrates the 49^th anniversary of anything?

49 is not special.

It’s “see if you can hold on for one more year”

or “almost perfect but not quite.”

It’s the California Gold Rush

which turned out well for a few

but disappointed thousands of treasure seekers.

We were looking for gold when we married.

I reckon we did better than California.

Who celebrates their 49^th?

We do.

Eureka!

Through a mirror darkly

I have new eyes, and I couldn’t be more delighted. I can see individual leaves on distant trees and spot squirrels in the grass even before they move. The colors are more vivid than I have experienced for a long time. The light swimming through the forest is alive.

Put less poetically, my cataract removal/lens replacement surgeries were successful. It’s a new world out there, and I’m loving it.

Except when I look in the mirror.

When did I start getting so old looking? Where did these little lines and blemishes come from? Why do we have so many mirrors in this house? I feel the need to eliminate most of them.

And why does this matter so much? I’m probably only looking my age, so it’s all natural.

But it does matter. True confession. My surrounding youth culture does affect me.

I have, however, discovered that I have another mirror, one that tells me a better story.

It’s this: that even after 47 years of marriage, Hal still sometimes looks at me as if I’m the best thing he’s seen coming down the pike in a long long time. He doesn’t need to speak a word. His look says, “lovely, good, beautiful, chosen” even “gorgeous.”

Just possibly—I’m not totally sure about this—but just possibly the mirror in his eyes may be telling a deeper truth than that critical too bright square in the bathroom.

And I can decide which mirror to believe.

Two love poems

Today is our 42nd anniversary.

When Hal and I were first engaged, we came up with this wonderfully romantic plan. Every anniversary we would gift each other a poem. An original love poem. I still love this plan.  But...

He owes me 41 poems.

Which, actually, makes me smile. Here is one I wrote for him around about our 4th anniversary:

ANNIVERSARY POEM

When I say
thus and such
and you respond with
such and that
I almost begin to realize
that you didn't at all understand
my this and there
thinking it instead to be
otherwise
and then I correcting spout
how as what
but you come back with
why and wherefore
and I meaning to point out
because furthermore and
therefore--

Oh, forget it!
Come kiss me.

I think humor has been one of the glues that has held our relationship together.  When our son David was a wise 14 year old, he told me that my God-given mission in life was to make Dad laugh. (Hal can be rather serious and intense.)

As I was meditating in the early hours of this morning, thanking God for Hal and our marriage, I thought of the poem I will give him today, written by Wendell Berry. (I might also be able to come up with an original contribution before the midnight deadline. Or I might not.)

THE WILD ROSE
by Wendell Berry

Sometimes hidden from me
in daily custom and in trust,
so that I live by you unaware
as by the beating of my heart,

suddenly you flare in my sight,
a wild rose blooming at the edge
of thicket, grace and light
where yesterday was only shade,

and once more I am blessed, choosing
again what I chose before.

Thanks be to God for love that endures.