When the King Speaks - 7-28-18

Puerta Del Diablo (Devil's Door)

Today we go to Puerta Del Diablo (Devil's Door), a group of three rock formations once used ages ago for Mayan sacrifice rituals. The rock formations jut high up into the sky and we have to climb a ways in the truck to reach the entrance. We arrive and spend a few moments reading and talking about Matthew 11. 

We focus on the last part, where Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11: 28-29). I'm not sure why this passage resonates with me. Perhaps it is the stress from entering a new country, struggling to understand some of the language, missing the comforts of home, or simply wondering what this trip will mean for the future. 

Or perhaps it is the longing to be used by God, fully available to him, but that heroic thought closely coupled with the fear of what he might ask. In any case, Jesus' easy yoke and light burden sound beautiful and comforting.

The rest of the team begins their trek up one of the large rock formations, while Colin and I wait behind. Colin and I head up the smallest rock formation. I feel my legs shake, and wish I was stronger, but I forget about that and enjoy the moment. We reach the top, perhaps thirty rocky steps later. Spilling out away from the top is a deep valley that extends out as far as I can see. Green goes all the way to the ocean, with houses and a town sprinkled below. I can see why the Mayans used these rocks. But for me there is a different sacrifice here on the mountain. A sacrifice of praise to God for beauty, for bringing me here to El Salvador, even in my weakness, even with Fibromyalgia.

Some of the Team at the top of Puerta Del Diablo


We took a brief neighborhood tour through Zacamil. 


A Zacamil apartment building, 
similar to the one where we are staying.



Saturday Prayer Meeting

We gather at the church building, a cement block building, for prayer meeting. Juan says that we're going to do something different, something that may be difficult, but it is good to practice. He asks, “Does a king or his subjects speak first?” We all agree, the King speaks first. Then Juan talks about how we often start the conversation with God, but we end up carrying on a monologue.

The King never gets to speak.

He says that we are going to practice silence for an hour. “Count backwards from ten if that helps you focus” he says. “Listen for God and do what he tells you. There are no mistakes. Just enter in.” Everyone gets quiet, most bow heads. The fan squeaks. A leaf skitters across the tin roof.

I have to count backwards from ten again and again until I start to relax and focus. I pull out my journal and jot down things that keep surfacing so I'm not trying to remember them. After ten or fifteen minutes, things start happening. Juan gets up and walks across the room, kneels down in front of Ethan, lays his hands on his feet and prays. He gets up and goes back to his seat. Mike breaks the silence singing softly. Several other people get up, approach people around the room and pray for them quietly.

I've been here before, resting in the presence of God, but this time for me is sweet, incredibly sweet. God reassures me that he is with me. At first I am expecting something earth-shattering, but instead, I get just what I need, the quiet reassurance of his presence and love.


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