A storm gathers over the river

(You can find part 1 and part 2 via the links) We arose bright and early.  The previous day, after realizing that things beyond my control had pushed our trip back, the day to leave was finally here.  We packed up, excited to go.  I was taking along my two youngest kids so I went through their things, making sure they had what they would need for four or five days on the river.  It is always an adventure going on a boat trip and I was looking forward to going together with them.  Our team had several people that dropped out and one late addition, so there were seven of us going altogether. These additions and subtractions were all taken in stride. 

                We made the one hour drive from Altamira to Vitoria where we put our speedboat in the water.  Everything was loaded up, wrapping our luggage in a tarp, and everyone was seated so that the boat would be balanced.  We had a pray and shoved off.  The weather was scattered clouds and that means probable rain this time of year.  The boat ran well and as we headed through the islands, we saw a friend who was fishing in his wooden canoe.  He was just a couple of minutes from his fishing shack, a small place he keeps.  He will often spend four or five days a week fishing along the river.  He was delighted to see us and we shared a few minutes together with the promise to see each other again soon. 

                Then within a short time, we were in Souzel, where we tied the speedboat off to the back of a boat.  We had a quick lunch, bought some supplies for our trip, and headed out.  I was tired and quickly fell asleep in my hammock as the throbbing of the diesel motor and the motion of the boat lulled me to sleep. 

                After a couple hours, we stopped in a small village along the river’s edge.  The people living there were glad to receive our visit.  The man was the leader of the church in that community and we were glad to encouraged him at his home.  We planned a baptism for the next day as several of the church people there wanted to make that commitment in their lives.  For several hours, we sat and visited in the yard of the community leader.  We swapped stories as we sat under a tree drinking coffee.  The running narrative created its own dynamic among those present and the conversation jumped easily between the recent and distant past.  The oral tradition is strong, especially among those people that live along the river.  The conversation generates laughter, thoughtfulness, reflection, more questions, and more stories.  Every time my coffee cup empties, there is an offer of more.  I try to drink it more slowly but even then realize that I have passed my caffeine limit.  The late afternoon heat and humidity are mitigated by an afternoon breeze under the shade of a fruit tree and the decreasing intensity of the setting sun.  The conversation ebbs and surges as we move among topics.  The kids play on a shallow, sandy beach as we sit on our improvised benches in our discussion. 

                Finally, we look up and see that a storm is approaching.  It is time to leave, more as a question of safety than concern about keeping any type of schedule.  The wind starts to pick up and the waves form white caps.  We move away from shore with a promise to return the next day to have baptisms in the morning and celebrate with lunch together.  I think how many conversations is a soul worth?  How much time?  Is this incarnational living, being a friend to others, is it really this simple?  Isn’t this part of what Jesus modeled during his time on earth?   There is always something new to reflect on as I slow down and think about how God is acting in that moment…

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Drinking coffee together is synonymous with hospitality