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A letter from Ellen Dozier in Guatemala |
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April 2005
I began the day waiting along the roadside as the Maya Quiché
women who were to be the delegates to their convention slowly
gathered. Women from villages up in the highlands made their way
to the flat lands of Guatemala, their bedding and clothing for
the two-day meeting wrapped in bundles with their brightly colored
cloths. We did not want to leave anyone behind and as usual were
not sure exactly who would be coming, so we waited and waited.
The patience of the women was contagious, so that my usual “let’s
get going” attitude slowed down and I enjoyed just sitting,
sharing an orange with one of the children, listening to the variety
of sounds—trucks and birds blending together. Finally we
decided everyone had arrived so we climbed into the back of the
pickup, women, children, bundles of bedding, backpacks, and an
ice cream cart! The ice cream men, with their carts, go wherever
the action is, hoping to sell their wares, and one saw an opportunity
in the women’s convention. |
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Maya Quiché delegates to the women's convention. |
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We were on our way to Monte Margarita, up and
up the winding road, through abandoned coffee plantations, past
an occasional home, a school, a store, breathing in the cooler,
clean air. Finally we arrived at a clearing among the trees where
we saw the church building, a small simple wooden structure but
the pride and joy of the congregation. They had decorated the sanctuary
with brightly colored streamers and artificial flowers. |
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Outside, women from the church
and community cooked over the open fire, huge pots of black beans
and mountains of tortillas. After all the women had registered,
settled their bedding bundles into a corner of the church building,
and enjoyed slices of watermelon as a snack, the convention began
with a devotional led by the pastor of the church, Efraim Pérez.
He said, “I want to talk about a secure life.” Then
he read Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd, I have everything
I need. Even in the valley of the shadow of death I will not be
afraid, for my God is with me.” He continued, “We
know we are safe and secure in God’s hands. God never fails
to fulfill His word or His promises. God is our protector.”
That was it, an amazingly short sermon, as Guatemalan sermons
go. |
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To fully understand the depth and
power of this brief message you need to know a little about Efraim.
I first knew him as a student at the seminary where he was in my
Christian education class. He struggled through every assignment,
especially the written ones, understandable since he had only one
year of formal education, first grade, and was about 45 years old
when he began seminary. He is a pastor and a farmer and ekes out
an existence, just enough food to feed is family of eight, by planting
corn and beans. About five years ago, while he was a student at
the seminary, he saw his 20-year-old son shot by two men who had
entered their home to steal what little money they had. He held
his son as he died in his arms. Efraim knows the Shepherd, his Lord,
and he has walked the valley of the shadow of death. His life is
a powerful witness to the truth of the words of Psalm 23. |
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Delegates to the women's convention. |
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From time to time I receive email
asking me if it is safe to come to Guatemala, is it safe to travel
the roads in Guatemala? On one hand I understand the concern of
folks, thinking of coming to what for them is a foreign country.
On the other hand, I am frustrated and a bit angry. How do you
expect me to answer that question?! Who can guarantee your safety,
here or anywhere? Next time I receive such an email, I may invite
the writer to read Psalm 23.
“Jehová es mi pastor; nada me faltará.”
“The Lord is my Shepherd; I have everything I need.”
Traveling mercies go with you,
Ellen
The 2005 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
62 |
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