Storytime

Buddha and I sat on the front porch and we curled up in the wagon to read a book. Earlier today I wasn't feeling the greatest and I was at the computer center when I spotted a familiar book in the pile of donations. Max Lucado wrote a children's book entitled, "You are Mine." Usually I'm not one for cliches and feel good language, but I have a soft spot for this book. Someone read it to me once when I was really sick my freshman year of college, man how time has changed. I pulled the book out and actually read it by myself before reading it together with Booboo. The story is about wooden puppets who find their identity in having the most boxes and toys.

The main character gets caught up in this pursuit, forsakes all his friends, families and values and joins this race. He thinks he's climbing the mountain to compete with the others but he stumbles into the puppet makers workshop. Punchinello is ashamed, but Eli the maker is patient and loving. He asks him a series of questions that reveal to him that his heart is not happy and that he hasn't been trusting in love and his creator. His stuff isn't what makes him happy or important, it's the fact that the maker created him with love and finds him special. Well, it was cute because Percy came out and joined us and helped quiz Buddha on the reading comprehension and Ma caught the end of it and wanted to hear the story and made Buddha sit still until he fully understand why Punchinello was special.

The simple things of this world confound the wise. I truly have found that the more childlike I am, the more ready and able I am to receive the Words of my Jesus. How beautiful that the story can be as important for Booboo as it is for me as it is for Ms. Linda. We have an incredible maker. I remember visiting Mexico for the first time and Saul was preaching and shared a story about his wife that has stuck with me since then. They were at an artisan market in Oaxaca and they were looking at beautiful pottery. He remarked about how lovely it was and he was so focused on the intricate designs, textures and colors. His wife however said to the salesperson, "I have to meet the creator of these works." They ended up going to meet the person and driving for a few hours, but the impact of meeting the artist and entering into her story brought so much more wholeness and beauty to that amazing pot. Oh that we would focus on the creator and not the created. Psalm 73 calls Gods children to remember that God won't give us anything that gives us more pleasure than him. Sadly I have to remind myself of this almost daily.

Guatemala is known for beautiful vibrant colors. In fact my mom/aunt usually buy me the Colors of Guatemala calendar every year, which I really appreciate. I want to make my own clothes some day. U.S. clothing is so sterile and institutionalized. I suppose that my limited jeans washing is about as close to protesting this as I normally get. Anyhow, as I wandered the streets of Panajachel and saw hundreds of vendors selling the same things, I couldn't bring myself to buy any of it, even though many of the artesanias were beautiful. When we stayed in San Pedro, there were only a few shops and I stopped in one and got to speak with a woman as she was making a beautiful textile. I talked with her a while, before purchasing several of her pieces and I gladly payed a bit more for the story behind the original art.