On the topic of fishing…

Wow. Costa Rica has really been something so far! We arrived by plane a couple of weeks ago, exhausted and worn from the airports. Customs didn’t take as long as the most of us expected, however, the wait in line took an eternity. Luggage in hand and heavy, we meandered through the terminal to the pick up area, there taking a bus to Jaco. When we arrived at our new home, it was dark outside- yet even the wind carried with it the calls of the local night life booming from the shanties and clubs along the main drag. The sound brought with it a sudden excitement and aura that welled up within me and marinated on through the night, which was spent in long awaited sleep on the top half of a bunk bed. In the morning, I awoke covered in sweat,(so humid it is here- also, our room has no windows but we’ve found how to tame the heat) and full of anticipation to see the ocean and meet new people- and that we have. The first week we were given the opportunity to work with the homeless. We were divided into different ‘jobs’. I was assigned to doing artwork and drawing with those who wanted to participate. One of the first that came along I sat next to. He spoke scant English and though slowly, I was able to learn a bit about the man. He loved fishing, specifically for marlin. I’ve never been fishing for marlin, but back home fishing on the river is one of my favorite things to do. We talked for what few minutes we could and exchanged a few stories but sleep took him to the bleachers on the other side of the gymnasium,(the shelter is located in an open-air gymnasium), and our time came to a close. I haven’t seen the man recently and I can only hope that he’s done a bit of fishing since- to say he reminded me of a much younger Santiago from Earnest Hemingway’s ‘The Old Man and the Sea’ would be very precise. Over the next week we aided the community by evangelizing and painting light poles, each intricately designed- each a collage of sea life put to paint. As I sit now writing this blog in my hammock, the morning tide has rolled in, crystalline and blue. There are distant mountains running cove-like and parallel along the north and south shores. Soon the high tide will wash in, the words once so scrawled into the beach sand abraded by the sea and it’s constant wash and roll. Such is God in our lives, constant as the ocean- at times tumultuous and tempestuous, at others calming, a comforting sound and cradling rock. To trust the sea and it’s consuming power is one thing, to trust the God that made it is another. In trust I have grown with the creator. Trust and faith. Swimming in the pacific is another story, mouth and nose full of saltwater- sinuses aflame