Sunday, June 18, 2017

Humble People

Song of Grace and Hope
Donna Bowling, June 15, 2017
“Humble People”

We finally met Yovette, the remarkable young woman from Pearl Lagoon who acted as our guide and translator for our recent trip to Nicaragua, when we arrived at the airport in Managua at dinnertime on Wednesday, June 7th. La Jefa, our mission team leader, and I had corresponded with Yovette for weeks as she made arrangements for our scouting trip to look for a site for our third Living Waters for the World (LWW) water purification system on the Atlantic coast of Nicaragua, a place neither La Jefa nor I had ever been. Mission teams from our church have been going to Nicaragua for several years now, but we have worked in the Matagalpa region. Now we were looking for a site in a new region as well as checking on the two systems we helped install on previous trips.

Just getting to the Atlantic coast of Nicaragua is an adventure. We flew on a small prop plane from Managua to Bluefields, and then took a taxi to the dock, where our private panga boat to Pearl Lagoon waited. Pangas are water taxis that hold 20 people plus baggage. They have a roof, but are otherwise open to the weather, which we learned could change quickly. From Bluefields, we took an hour-long boat ride across Pearl Lagoon to the town of Pearl Lagoon, where we spent three nights in a small, family owned bed and breakfast and ate breakfast at the kitchen table. After breakfast our first morning in Pearl Lagoon, we took another hour-long boat ride across the Lagoon and up the Wawasang River to the village of Pueblo Nuevo, which Yovette had suggested as a possible water installation site. The trip up the river reminded me of scenes from the Humphrey Bogart movie, “The African Queen.” La Jefa joked she was not sure what purpose the life vest served. If we ended up in the water and managed to survive the swim to shore, nothing but rainforest awaited us.

When we arrived at Pueblo Nuevo, representatives of the water committee waited for us at the dock. After a thirty-minute hike uphill through the village, they showed us a well on the church grounds before we gathered inside the tiny church with its wood plank walls and benches. The committee members explained they wanted to use the church’s well as the water source for the LWW system. They told us the closest place they could buy clean water was El Rama, a town many kilometers away. These are poor people, who work hard long hours everyday just to feed and clothe their families. They desperately wanted clean water for their community, especially for their children. They understand the health benefits of the clean water we too often take for granted.

After talking at length with them about what they would need to do to prepare for an installation, including building a structure to house the water system and recruiting operators for the system as well as educators to teach adults and children about the importance of clean water and how to use it effectively, we explained that our church would work for many months to prepare to return to help them install the system. At the end of that discussion, La Jefa and I looked at each other and then agreed to work with them. We signed a covenant with the water committee of Pueblo Nuevo documenting our mutual promises.

We all sat momentarily silent as we savored this new relationship and contemplated the hard work ahead for all of us before we celebrated with group photos and prayers. The smiles on the faces of these normally stoic people, who live amid challenges we cannot comprehend, were more than ample repayment for our long journey. As we hiked back to the boat for the long, wet, bumpy ride back to Pearl Lagoon, Yovette told us the people of Pearl Lagoon were humble people. Indeed they are, but I was humbled by their grit and determination and deep faith and look forward to getting to know them better.

Grace and Peace,


Tuesday, January 24, 2017

America the Beautiful

I’ve been thinking about the familiar anthem, “America the Beautiful,” since I attended the local MLK March and Celebration Service here in Temple, Texas last week on Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday. Last year was my first time to participate in this annual celebration. This year once again dozens of people showed up to walk from City Hall in downtown Temple a few blocks to a local church for the celebration service. The service included prayer, scripture, speeches and music. I was entranced by the music, especially the loving rendition of “America the Beautiful,” in Gospel style with the whole congregation joining in. I was moved to tears by this heartfelt tribute to our country by those who too often have to fight for privileges I take for granted. Those at the celebration service obviously still believe in the promise of this country, perhaps even more than those of us who have not had to fight as hard for the promised benefits of being an American.

Last Saturday, I participated in another march, this time the Women’s March on Austin on the day following the latest Presidential Inauguration. I had never participated in that kind of gathering before. My husband and I drove to Austin, not quite knowing what to expect. I am still processing the experience, but I can say without hesitation that it was an immense blessing, reminding me of the goodness of so many of our people, whose faith in our country’s promises for each of us was evidenced by their presence in Austin and elsewhere. We stood for over an hour on the south lawn of the Texas State Capitol waiting to begin the march down Congress Avenue. We could not see much beyond the crowd patiently waiting around us with their signs, which provided thought provoking commentary as well as entertainment. I’ve learned since that the reason it took us so long to reach the street and begin to march was because somewhere around 50,000 people showed up, many more than expected.

Following these two events, and in spite of the rancorous divisions in this country at present, I’m feeling more hopeful. There are many people of good will who care about America and are anxious to see us live up to our professed ideals of equality and liberty and justice for all. Each of us who showed up to march expressed that hope by our presence and by our thoughtful care for all those other children of God who showed up too. I’m still thinking about “America the Beautiful.” It was also an appropriate anthem for this latest march:

“America! America! 
God mend thine every flaw, 
Confirm thy soul in self-control, 
Thy liberty in law!” 

Grace and Peace,


Friday, January 6, 2017


Here on this day of Epiphany, just across the threshold of a New Year, the months ahead stretch before me like fresh fallen snow—new and clean, pristine. We humans like to come up with these artificial new beginnings to give ourselves a fresh start. God knows we need those. I’ve been thinking in the past few days about a familiar prayer that pretty well sums up my thoughts about this beginning of 2017, “Dear Lord, So far I've done all right. I haven't gossiped, haven't lost my temper, haven't been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish, or overindulgent. I'm really glad about that. But in a few minutes, God, I'm going to get out of bed. And from then on, I'm going to need a lot more help.”[1]

As I begin this New Year, I pray that God will guide me into those places where I can best serve God and others and do my small part to make this world a better place. I pray that I will continue to find things for which to express my gratitude each day. I am thankful that God’s compassion never fails. It is new not just at the beginning of a New Year, but each and every morning. With that knowledge I can face each new day in this New Year with hope and determination, knowing that when I mess up God will forgive me and provide me yet again with a new start, just for the asking.

Grace and Peace,


Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Doing Things the Hard Way

We sold Nicaraguan coffee again as a fund raiser for our next trip to Nicaragua this coming year to help install our third Living Waters for the World water purification system, at a church this time. I picked the coffee up once again at Fara Coffee, the Nicaraguan distributor’s office in Austin. When we ran out of Starbucks recently, my husband, John, bought a package of the regular for him and the decaf for me. Only in America can you get decaf Nicaraguan coffee. Decaf coffee is an oxymoron to Nicaraguans. This year it turned out the decaf coffee was whole beans, not ground.

This is a long explanation for why I’ve been doing things the hard way to make my morning coffee of late: grinding the beans instead of simply spooning the grounds out and into the little plastic filter for my Keurig.  I’ve realized some things because of this process. First, grinding the beans takes longer and slows me down. It takes time to dump the beans into the electric grinder, grind the coffee to the right consistency, not too coarse, but not too fine either, or the water will not percolate through the filter. Then I have to brush the remains out of the grinder. I have to allow more time to make a cup of coffee, and the process slows down my usual morning rush—a good thing most days.

I’ve also realized that I love the rich, fresh smell of the whole beans, much more fragrant than coffee that’s already been ground. And the brewed coffee tastes richer and fresher as well. Each morning, the aroma of the beans transports me back to Nicaragua. I see the coffee trees clinging to the hillsides along the dirt roads in the mountains, and the people climbing the steep hills to harvest the beans. The most important thing I’ve realized because of this change in my routine is that fussing with the beans to make my morning coffee reminds me of those sisters and brothers who toil long hours in challenging conditions to make my morning cup of coffee a reality. I know they are not paid a lot for the picking, and they don’t get to drink the finest coffee because the best beans are exported. They drink what is left over, the dregs if you will.

As I think of them in this Christmas season, I remember they are the kind of people with whom Jesus spent much of his time, the poor and the vulnerable--the ones who were considered unimportant in their culture. They are still among us today, the ones our culture considers unimportant--the ones who harvest our food, and cook and clean and do other jobs we would rather not. We who claim to follow Jesus need to see these sisters and brothers and to do what we can to make their lives better. For me that’s helping provide them with Living Water to drink.

Grace and Peace,

Thursday, November 17, 2016

Choose Civility

Civility is claiming and caring for one’s identity, needs and beliefs without degrading someone else’s in the process.” Cassandra Dahnke and Tomas Spath, the founders of the Institute for Civility in Government.

A young friend reminded me recently that our politics have been uncivil from the beginning. You have only to remember the duel in which Aaron Burr, then Vice President of the United States, killed Alexander Hamilton, former secretary of the Treasury, to realize that. The stories of campaigns from years ago demonstrate that our political interactions have always contained ugly elements. And yet, this year seemed uglier than the norm, somehow, as if all bonds of civility and decency had been cast off. As I talked with this friend, I agreed that our political campaigns have never been pretty, but I argued that this year was different—perhaps because constant access to social media and the 24/7 news cycle shoved the nastiness in our faces in a way that felt much more intrusive.

I’m wrestling now with what I do about the ugly divisions that plague us in our civic life, especially since the worst impulses of sexism and racism and xenophobia have been ushered into our public spaces during this recent campaign. I grieve for those who are frightened for their own personal safety, and I fear for our future unless we confront the nastier elements that have been unleashed from their dark cellars to parade openly among us. I don’t want the ugliest instincts of the long divisive Presidential campaign that has just ended to become routine.

I know that I will continue to participate in the local NAACP as one way to reach across the divisions in this country. I will also do my best to continue to promote the Institute for Civility in Government,, of which I’m also a member.  I display their bumper sticker, which says "Choose Civility." Perhaps God encouraged Cassandra Dahnke and Tomas Spath, two Presbyterian pastor friends, to create this organization some years ago for just such a time as this. Civility seems somehow a tame response to the ugly forces that now roam openly among us, but perhaps like love, civility is a force that is stronger than we think. We think of hatred and violence as overwhelmingly strong forces, but perhaps that is because they get more publicity than the forces of love and hope and civility that are also at work among us.

In a sermon awhile back, I talked about standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon and seeing what the slow, steady force of water had created over centuries. Not something you can see happening as you stand on the edge, but the results are certainly more impressive than anything that could have been created by dynamite and angry human beings. Civility is a force akin to the slow, steady movement of water eroding through the hard rock of our divisions and our anger to reach the bedrock of our humanity, where we are each precious children of God.

Grace and Peace,