The waters of Wasakín / Las aguas de Wasakín

Wa: water / agua

sa: stream / cañon o quebrada

kin: island / isla

(Español abajo)

After Hurricane Eta in November, the Anabaptist Emergency Committee (CAE) in Nicaragua formed a WhatsApp group to communicate, as reception allowed, with church leaders in affected areas in the Autonomous Region of the Northern Caribbean Coast (RACCN).  This region is a vast rural area, connected by dirt roads and rivers.  It's an area that is home to indigenous communities, such as Mayagna and  Miskito. It's also an area that has great natural resources, leading to the common reference to "the Mining Triangle" and town names like Bonanza and El Tesoro (Treasure). Last year the value of gold exports actually passed beef and coffee as the top export. Yet, most people live in the simplest of conditions and the region is Nicaragua's most vulnerable to hurricanes.

After Eta, we received pictures and short videos through the chat group from Brethren in Christ pastor Ramón García showing crop damages and some standing water.  However, as we were discussing the impact from Eta, an even larger and more powerful hurricane, Iota, was forming in the Caribbean.

Ramón sent pictures and videos again after Hurricane Iota.  This time, the river had overflowed and spread far into the community. He and a friend, Roger, who is Mayagna, rode on a raft around the community taking pictures and sharing from a bag of oranges (a post about this from November). Below is a picture of Ramón's church, about a half mile from the nearest bend in the Bambana river.

CAE members continued to communicate with leaders in the RACCN region where the Convención Mennonite and Brethren in Christ churches had connections, and they organized a food assistance response for 450 families in 12 communities in December.  They drove out to the town of Rosita, packaged bags of rice, beans, sugar, and cooking oil, and then the bags were loaded on buses to head out to their destinations.

As the first ration began to run out, CAE communicated again with these communities about a follow-up distribution. The planting and harvesting seasons are somewhat different in the east, since there is a longer rainy season.  Some, but not all, of these communities hoped to get a harvest at the end of April.  This time I had the privilege of joining CAE, travelling 9 hours from our front door to Rosita to help unload and load the bags at the Mennonite church building that served as the distribution hub. CAE was well organized, and I was impressed by the all-hands-on-deck effort.  In terms of preventing COVID spread, CAE members wore facemasks and disposable facemasks were shared during the distribution as possible.

After most of the bags were loaded up, CAE coordinator Fátima Martinez and I rode on the backs of motorcycles around 20 minutes out to the community of Wasakín (the Walanguás side of the Bambana river), where Rámon García showed us the places that appeared in his pictures and videos.  Many of the homes were repaired with the same wood, and the government had helped with roof sheeting.  Some homes were rebuilt in different ways or in slightly different locations. The church roof and walls had also been repaired. 

A group of women and children were gathered in the church when we arrived, and Rámon initiated a time of sharing of introductions and experiences. I learned that there are actually a few Mayagna subgroups, including the Twahka and Panamahka and a young community member translated for us into Spanish. The hurricanes had shaken the community and the food assistance was greatly appreciated.  I shared that I felt humbled and privileged to be a link in a chain of communication with CAE and MCC to be part of this project.

Later, we were given motorcycle rides out to the foot bridge over the Bambana river, maybe not quite a mile away.  From the bridge, we could see the tiny, elevated area in the middle of the river that might have been the island within the convergence of waters referred to in the community's Mayagna name. We saw the height of the banks, which had been overtaken by the floods, and homes that had either been repaired or had withstood the storms up along the banks. We saw women washing clothes and children at play in a dugout canoe.  It was impressive to see the strength, joy, and resilience of Wasakín.  Thanks to Ramón and the members of CAE (and to MCC supporters) who make these connections, learning, and sharing possible.

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Después del huracán Eta en noviembre, el Comité Anabautista de Emergencia (CAE) en Nicaragua formó un grupo de WhatsApp para comunicar, como se permitió la recepción, con líderes de iglesias en las zonas afectadas en la Región Autónoma de la Costa Caribe Norte (RACCN).  Esta región es una enorme zona rural, conectada por carreteras de tierra y ríos.  Es un área que dónde viven varias comunidades indígenas, como Mayagna y Miskito. También es un área que tiene grandes recursos naturales, resultando en la referencia común del "Triángulo Minero" y nombres de lugares como Bonanza y El Tesoro. En el año pasado, el valor de las exportaciones de oro pasó a la carne de res y al café para ser la exportación de más valor. Sin embargo, la mayoría de la gente vive en las condiciones muy simples y la región es la más vulnerable de Nicaragua a los huracanes.

Después de Eta, recibimos fotos y videos cortos a través del grupo de chat del pastor de los Hermanos en Cristo, Ramón García, mostrando daños en los cultivos y algo de agua estancada.  Sin embargo, mientras conversábamos del impacto de Eta, se estaba formando un huracán aún más grande y poderoso, Iota, en el Caribe.

Ramón envió fotos y videos de nuevo después del huracán Iota.  Esta vez, el río se había desbordado y se había extendido bastante por a la comunidad. Él y un amigo, Roger, quien es Mayagna, se navigaron en una balsa alrededor de la comunidad tomando fotos y compartiendo de una bolsa de naranjas (un post sobre esto a partir de noviembre). Arriba se muestra una imagen de la iglesia inundada de Ramón, quizás 800 metros de la curva más cercana en el río Bambana.

Los miembros del CAE continuaron comunicándose con líderes de la región del RACCN, donde las iglesias Convención Menonita y Hermanos en Cristo tenían conexiones, y organizaron una respuesta de asistencia alimentaria para 450 familias en 12 comunidades en diciembre.  Se dirigieron a la ciudad de Rosita, empacaron bolsas de arroz, frijoles, azúcar y aceite de cocina, y luego las bolsas fueron cargadas en buses para dirigirse a sus destinos.

A medida que la primera ración comenzó a agotarse, CAE se comunicó de nuevo con estas comunidades sobre una segunda distribución. Las temporada de siembra y cosecha son algo diferentes en el este, ya que hay una temporada de lluvias más larga.  Algunos, pero no todas estas comunidades, esperaban obtener una cosecha a finales de abril.  Esta vez tuve el privilegio de unirme al CAE, viajando 9 horas desde nuestra casa a Rosita para ayudar a descargar y cargar los sacos en el templo de la iglesia menonita que sirvió como centro de distribución. CAE estaba bien organizado, y me impresionó el esfuerzo de todos con sus manos a la obra.  En cuanto a la prevención de la propagación del COVID, los miembros del CAE llevaban mascarillas y se compartían máscaras faciales desechables cuando era posible.

Después de que la mayoría de los sacos fueron cargados, nos llevaron a la coordinadora del CAE Fátima Martínez y yo por las motocicletas alrededor de 20 minutos hacia la comunidad de Wasakín (el lado Walanguás del río Bambana), donde Rámon García nos mostró los lugares que aparecían en sus fotos y videos.  Muchas de las casas fueron reparadas con la misma madera, y el gobierno había ayudado con láminas de techo.  Algunas casas fueron reconstruidas de diferentes maneras o en lugares un poco diferentes. El techo de la iglesia y las paredes también habían sido reparados. 

Un grupo de mujeres y niños se reunieron en la iglesia cuando llegamos, y Rámon inició un tiempo de intercambio de introducciones y experiencias. Aprendí que en realidad hay algunos subgrupos mayagna, incluyendo el Twahka y Panamahka y un joven miembro de la comunidad tradujo para nosotros al español. Los huracanes habían sacudido a la comunidad y la asistencia alimentaria fue muy apreciada.  Compartí que me sentía humilde y privilegiado de ser un eslabón en una cadena de comunicación con CAE y CCM para formar parte de este proyecto.

Más tarde, nos llevaron en motocicleta hasta el puente peatonal sobre el río Bambana, tal vez a un kilometro de distancia.  Desde el puente, pudimos ver la pequeña área elevada en medio del río que podría haber sido la isla dentro de la convergencia de aguas identificada en el nombre mayagna de la comunidad. Vimos la altura de las orillas, que habían sido superadas por las inundaciones, y casas que habían sido reparadas o habían resistido las tormentas a lo largo de las orillas. Vimos mujeres lavando ropa y niños jugando en una canoa tradicional.  Fue impresionante ver la fuerza, la alegría y la resiliencia de Wasakín.  Gracias a Ramón y a los miembros del CAE (y a la base constituyente de CCM) que hacen posible estas conexiones, aprendizaje, y oportunidad de compartir.

How trámites are like a video game

I've written here before about the legal processes that I've waded through en route to residency or paying a traffic ticket.  Trámites.  These are processes that involve multiple stops, formal letters, lots of and photocopies, and an elusive finish line. 

There are times when I think we're getting better at these.  I've learned where to go for tasks ranging from renewing an organizational ID number to purchasing the official timbre stickers. However, the trámites also evolve over time, so it keeps us on our toes.

Over these last couple months I had a problem with a U.S. trámite.  I needed to renew my driver's license, which was set to expire on my birthday, February 15.  Long story short, the DMV mailed it but the USPS wouldn't deliver it because of an address glitch.  I contacted both agencies to try to sort it out, and supposedly it will be mailed again.  But I decided to take the plunge with getting my driver's license here.  I have a valid driver's license, I have Nicaraguan residency-- how hard could it be?

I started out by going to the Managua Transit office.  I found the appropriate building where I could ask my question and stood in the first of many lines for this trámite. The official told me I still needed to do the health tests at the Red Cross and pay the fees for the driving class, seminar, the test, and the license. She told me to make sure I get started or my driver's license would expire and it would become more complicated.

I plugged the Don Bosco Red Cross into Google maps, and found it not far from the Transit office. It was a small block building, with an open air waiting area.  Several people were in line. I bought some water in a sealed bag from a street  for a few córdobas, bit open the corner and rehydrated (the hot months are getting closer). While I was waiting, one of the staff came out to say they were out of the blood tests.  I could do the vision test and the psychological test, but I may as well do all three at the Belmonte location.  This one was across town, but closer to home, which I thought might be helpful.  I drove there, and as I pulled into the parking lot, a kind parking area guard asked if I already had my receipts.  Ah, right, you pay at the bank first and bring the receipts. I should probably have known this by now.  

After finding an ATM for some cash and a mid-morning bite to eat, I went to BanPro where a long line was standing outside the building awaited me.  I was glad that at least the Red Cross and Transit accounts were at the same bank; I could pay them all at once. As the sugar from my snack hit my brain, it was possible to be optimistic about these run-arounds. I started thinking about how it's like a video game.  We never had a video game console, so the closest I had was Commandeer Keen on our computer during middle school years.  I imagine the objective is often the same: collect some coins or clues to find your way to finish a level (which mostly leads to a new, harder level).  

Receipts in hand from the bank, I went back to the Red Cross, where they had closed for lunch.  I would pick up with this the following day.

On Day 2, I went first to the Red Cross.  After answering questions satisfactorily for a psychological test, reading little letters successfully for a vision test, and getting my finger pricked for a blood type test, I traded three bank receipts for three Red Cross test receipts which I could take back to the Transit office. I drove across town, stood in line, hoping that this might be all I needed to do.  I had collected all the video game coins to advance to the next level, I thought.  

Instead, I was told that I still needed to take the seminar and the written driver's test.  I scheduled for the next morning for the seminar; the test, that afternoon.  On the seminar registration slip, I noticed that I needed to purchase a copy of the transportation law and bring it to the class. I found someone at Transit selling them, who pointed out the practice quiz and the answers at the back. Very helpful.

On Day 3, I sat in a class with a variety of people who were either trying to reclaim a suspended license or applying for a change in license category. I had expected something of a talk about driving laws and practices, but it was more of a chat/lecture that included the inspirational, the comical, and the don't-you-forget-that-driving-is-dangerous-and-a-privilege. Three hours later, my attendance was documented in the system.  

I returned in the afternoon to sit in a computer lab with youths attempting their first driver's license. It was a strange feeling to be back at a computer for a driver's test.  I thought about Grandpa Charles waiting outside for me to pass my test and hand me the keys to his Dodge Shadow.  The proctor gave us instructions and I made my way carefully through the questions.  There were a few that really made me think, and my score was high enough to pass but low enough to make me feel uneasy.  One way or the other, I went to stand in a line where the official told me I could now go back to my local police station.  I tried to ask for clarification about what would happen at that point, incredulous that the end of the process could be in sight.  "Tell them to attend you!" the official said impatiently. 

The District 2 Police Station, just down the street from our house, was basically empty at this point in the afternoon when I arrived.  It was the first place where there was no line.  I was directed right away to the desk where an official took my picture and asked me to verify the information on the license example image on her computer monitor.   Just a few minutes later I was walking down the street to our house, the video game coins collected, and a driver's license in my wallet.  On to the next level.

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On this end of the experience, I can see now that it wasn't really so hard.  In the middle of the trámite, it can be confusing and discouraging.  I realize that sometimes I expect something to be easier than it turns out to be, and I realize I carry a lot of privilege and can be surprised by some of these additional challenges.  

Also, back in the US, my license still hasn't come through yet.  So the trámite in Nicaragua helped me out much faster than my homeland system this time.

Hurricanes Eta and Iota

On November 3, much of the world's attention was on the U.S. election day.  In Central America on the same day, people braced for Hurricane Eta, which entered Nicaragua's northeast coast as a Category 4 hurricane.  People had been fairly successfully evacuated from vulnerable areas and there were very few deaths in Nicaragua, although many crops and roofs were damaged.  The storm then turned north, weakening in its windspeed but continuing to rain extraordinary amounts.  As the storm passed through the mountainous central Honduras and continued north, the water converged around the Sula valley which led to flooding up to people's rooftops. The storm then lead to flooding and landslides in Guatemala, and even continued up north to Cuba and Florida.

José Hernández, a Mennonite pastor who lives in the Chamelecón area, was with church members on the second floor of the church's classroom building, where they waited during two days until the waters receded enough to leave.  (pictured below)

Our area directors, Cesar and Lizette, attend the Iglesia Central Menonita in San Pedro Sula, and their church members quickly organized to offer their church building as a temporary shelter to people affected in the Chamelecón and Rivera Hernandez areas. People were eager to get back and start cleaning up, and MCC offered some initial support with wheelbarrows, shovels, food, and hygiene.  They found homes covered in mud and furniture and appliances had floated around their homes and even out into the neighborhood. At the same time, MCC also began conversations with other partners in Honduras, Nicaragua, and Guatemala about responses in other affected areas.

Unfortunately, as the clean-up progressed and NGOs evaluated and prioritized the damages and needs, Central America became anxious again about another storm brewing in the Caribbean.  On November 16, Hurricane Iota entered Nicaragua just south of where Eta had hit, but Iota's epicenter was much wider.  Iota reached category 5 windspeeds at sea, and hit land as category 4. Nicaragua had evaluated some 50,000 people again, but this time there would be more deaths. The storm hit already saturated land, and the flooding and damages were more extensive.  The storm had a more direct path westward than Eta, so areas that had escaped Eta got hit by Iota.  The Sula valley saw the same extraordinary levels of flooding. Across the region, we heard about exhaustion and discouragement among NGO workers and church volunteers who were working with shelters and clean-up from these back-to-back storms.

In Nicaragua, there is a joint committee between three Anabaptist conferences for disaster response, and they had contacts in the northeastern area known as the mining triangle. I made a call to one of the church pastors who was sending pictures through WhatsApp. I learned he was sending the pictures directly from his phone, as he floated around the area on what I would later understand was a simple raft.  (pictures below)

There were homes that withstood the winds, but also ones that were blown over and many lost metal roof sheets.  In many of these areas there are concerns about flooded latrines and contaminated wells. 

As for us here in Managua, we had heavier rains during Iota than Eta, and there were a couple trees down along our street.  The government's disaster monitoring declared a 'yellow' category, which led to our children's school being closed one day. We know of some homes that were damaged nearby, however, in the city itself, the rains weren't so different than other thunderstorms that happen here.

We were encouraged by the financial sharing and encouragement that people offered, even after a challenging year in which resources are limited.  MCC is collaborating on multiple responses with different organizations and church groups across Nicaragua, Honduras, and Guatemala.

Life in Managua during a global pandemic: An update

Five months ago we took cupcakes into school to celebrate Lia's birthday, and the next day school went online.  The rest of the school year finished out that way, at first with emails back and forth and then with a platform called Seesaw.  I had joked that online school should be called on-the-parents school because of the extra work we were doing, but I'm sure everyone was doing more work than normal trying to improvise in these complicated circumstances.

Cases didn't seem to emerge quickly here, and we wondered why.  Could it be the climate and the humidity that causes it to move more slowly? Could it be that there was simply not a very active tourism industry that meant fewer travelers? Could it be that Managua is not so densely populated, with mostly one-story homes?  The neighboring countries all put in place strong public health measures, locking down borders and in-country travel, and still were reporting cases. Here, the Ministry of Health promoted hand-washing, but not much else.  Public school, buses, markets, and such were all operating as normal.

Then in June there was dramatic increase in concern.  There were still few official numbers to go with what people were experiencing but many people we talked to seemed to have a relative or connection of someone who had recently died abruptly.  There were two people from our local church who died, including a man who was in my small Sunday School class.

Our work changed significantly during these months as well.  Our two Nicaraguan staff began to stay home; one of them could do work virtually. We had our babysitter who helps with Miriam during the workday begin to stay home as well. Our three SALTers had left back in March, but our YAMENer from Guatemala didn't even have that option.  Over the following months, we began doing many more meetings virtually and partner organizations were all carefully monitoring the situation and taking precautions of their own.  

The biggest change for our work is that MCC needed to look at adjustments in light of the financial situation.  Among cuts and consolidations was the consolidation of the MCC Honduras office with the MCC Nicaragua office.  This brought staff changes and the country representatives for Honduras and their family left at the end of July. Two staff remained to close the office and pack up, leaving in August.  Everyone worked really hard to make this transition possible, but it is still a sad and challenging transition to go through.  In the new arrangement, the relationship with the Costa Rican Mennonite church is now directly with our Area Directors and our office is responsible for the MCC programming in Nicaragua and Honduras.

At a family level, our kids have been remarkably flexible and resilient.  We have been able to get out to the park or to go together to the office on a regular basis.  Lia has done a lot of reading this summer, especially enjoying any Nancy Drew book she can get her hands on.  We made it through the whole Narnia series at bedtime, alternating between the books in Spanish and English.  Silas has learned how to hula hoop and has spent lots of time with Legos.  Part of the daily routine has been to practice piano (Lia) and recorder (Silas) and read "20 and 20" (minutes in English and Spanish) for a 10-day chart towards family movie nights.  Miriam also had to adjust and learn how to share her living room kingdom with her brother and sister.  She has shifted to talking more in English more during these months.  She enjoys playing with Pollys and playing with her siblings, but she likes when they do things on her terms.

We have been able to do a few weekend city escapes with Nathan and Angelica, the two other MCCers in our neighborhood. We've gone out to hike at the Chocoyero, hike the coffee hills at Las Nubes, and we've gone with one other family who had also been taking precautions to the beach one day and to the Apoyo lagoon.

Recently MCC Nicaragua was able to support the three Anabaptist church conferences in a food assistance response for people who had lost work in these recent months.  Nathan, Angelica, and I were able to go and help at their packing day.

In the recent weeks, there has been a perception that there are fewer cases of COVID in Managua. The few indicators that we have to work with seem to suggest that as well. Two of the private hospitals have had reportedly had very few or no COVID cases in recent weeks.  Our partner organizations and some churches have started to step back into their buildings. Our kids' school was able to use a charter flight for some of their staff out of the country (still no commercial flights here) and they plan to start an adapted in-presence school day with a virtual option on August 31.  At this point, it looks like Lia and Silas will go to school; their classes will be using facemasks and social distancing.

Thanks to all for your prayers and support.  It's certainly been a strange time, but we have felt that support.  Bendiciones, God bless you...

MCC Centennial Sharing with Millersville Mennonite

Yesterday MCC East Coast had planned to have 100 Speakers in 100 churches to celebrate MCC's Centennial year.  We were planning to be with Millersville Mennonite in Pennsylvania, but because of the current situation with COVID and travel limitations, that wasn't possible.  We made a video and shared that, though. And you can take a look below as well. I had to edit it down a little so it would fit within YouTube's 15 minute limit.

Grandma Charles and her gift of love

When I was little and we would go to church on Sundays we would see Grandma and Grandpa Charles.  Apparently there we took turns sitting with them, but I don't remember those details.

When we would go over to their house as kids, I remember Grandma would take us on wagon rides down to the farm.

By their front porch, I remember the flower bed and the snap-dragon flowers.

I remember sitting on her sofa and looking at her scrapbooks in three-ring binders.

She also kept a binder of The News Boost, a little family newsletter I worked on in middle school years.  I was proud that she kept them; it made me feel pleased with my little product.

One time when we were coloring or doing something at her table, I remember she said something about "praising" me for what I did.  I told her I thought that the word "praise" was supposed to be just for God.  Somehow she clarified that praise can be for anyone we are affirming.  I now realize how much her affirmation, her praise, has meant to me over the years.

I remember going down into their basement, passing by Grandpa's wood stove and books. Down around the corner is where they would stretch out tables for family holiday meals for the years that we would fit there.  And I remember the curtains, separating the space into makeshift bedrooms.  There would be people that would come and stay in their house, from Armenia, Ethiopia, North Carolina, Burma, probably others.  How did they all get here to this little house in rural Lancaster County?  One way or the other, the lesson of their open door and open hearts sticks with me.

In the living room, I remember playing with the organ, stepping on all the bass pedals and moving the switches we didn't understand.  I don't remember being scolded or being told to turn the volume down. (There were the hymnals there too, with Grandma's pencil marks for more inclusive language!)

I remember sitting at Grandma's kitchen table, unsure about the tomatoes.  The oscillating floor fan moved the air on a summer day.  On the kitchen wall hung her quilted piece: "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up on wings as eagles."

Grandma operated on the Lord's strength and moved on wings as eagles for 93 years.  Just in the last few years she started to slow down, and turned over her driver's license around a year and a half ago. In the last few months she had moved into the care of the Mennonite Home.  After her health worsened several weeks ago and a brief hospitalization, she was moved back home to be cared for by Hospice and family.  She passed away this morning, May 23.

This morning I sat down with pictures, like I did as a kid on her sofa.

I found a picture of Grandma, giving us a gift of a quilted wall hanging, just before we moved to work with MCC in Nicaragua. (The 'wings as eagles' wall hanging is in the background.)

I saw pictures of Christmastime, when so many sacred traditions were shared. After the meal, there would always be time for sharing music (singing "The Star" and others together), some gift giving (as kids we got a toolbox one year, and tools each year after), and MCC health kit packing.  But our gift for Grandma was sharing stories.  For as long as I can remember, we were asked to write up a story from the year.  Every year these stories would include adventures, laughter, everyday experiences or relationships, and things that moved us.  In the pictures, Grandma is sitting tall, leaning forward with interest.

And there were pictures of Grandma sharing her love with our children as well. Grandma understood and valued children.  Here's one with my mom and the Miriams.

Over the past few years we have just seen Grandma during home leave trips.  But she continued to express her love and interest.  She kept a Central America map on the wall and always reminded us about her prayers and love.  Every now and then I would get an email: "Thinking of you..." "loving you all dearly..."  Her emails were filled with exclamation marks ("Spring is soon here! The scarlet tanagers are so lovely!) and praise and affirmation.

It was a relief when she was able to move back to her house for her last few weeks.  Although she didn't have COVID-19, the virus made visits in the hospital and Mennonite Home impossible.  I was able to call her through a video call the day after she arrived home.  Although she was in bed (pictured earlier) and the backlight from the window made it hard to see her face, her voice and mind were incredibly clear. She said hello to the children and we talked about some ordinary things.  Little Miriam was playing with legos on the floor which included a little frog, and I told Grandma that we had a frog or a toad in our house last evening that we had to shoo outside. ("You don't want a frog in your house?")  And as we were saying goodbye Grandma said more slowly and thoughtfully, "Thank you for your testimony of grace and service.  May your testimony of grace and service live on."  Grandma, even with her last energy, was inspiring, affirming, and sharing her gift of love.

Thank you so much Grandma.  You will be missed.  You have also left an impact deep within all of us.  Your gift of love will live on.

Wisdom, goodness, and suffering

I've been trying to do more Bible reading this year, and a resource that I've stumbled upon which I've really appreciated is The Bible Project videos up on YouTube.  They go book by book, looking at how the different biblical texts are structured and what the writers were likely trying to emphasize within their socio-historical context.

I just finished the Wisdom section, and it's been interesting to read this in light of the COVID-19 pandemic that has overcome many places around the world.

Since we came to Nicaragua, the question about poverty traps and bad luck has always been a present one.  For example, there's a family we know who in the last couple years were struggling financially as the father/grandfather was in poor health.  A family member lost his job pumping gas.  They opened a little tortilla stand by a bus stop along the highway.  In an evening trip by motorcycle for supplies, a young couple from the family was rear-ended in a hit-and-run. Then they had to close the stand because it wasn't profitable and about that time the father/grandfather passed away.  They tried again, this time in one of Managua's markets, setting up a stand for rice, beans, and kitchen basics.  Their sales weren't great there either, and then when COVID-19 showed up, the sales were worse and they were concerned about health in the market, so they pulled out.  What does it take to get out and get on top of these emotional and financial troubles?

I appreciated hearing about the perspective of the Wisdom books as a set of three, each with a unique angle on wisdom, goodness, and suffering.

There are a lot of good lines and good reminders in Proverbs.  (On these hot days I need to read these about being slow to anger for understanding.)  And a lot of it is good sense about living decently, sharing that good karma and it coming back around; the personal good is the collective good.  But there are lines that are uncomfortable as well.  Such as the suggestion that a person who is lazy will be poor ("a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest and poverty will come upon you like a robber...," 6:10-11). Or that if a person is hard-working they will have long life and prosperity ("a slack hand causes poverty, but the hand of the diligent makes rich," 10:4).  Maybe Proverbs works in general terms, but it doesn't explain a lot of the inequity and trouble in the world.

Ecclesiastes and Job might not completely get to these answers either, but these books make a much more direct effort at looking at these problems.  Ecclesiastes recognizes the randomness and injustice in life (the righteous perish and the wicked prolong their life in evildoing, 7:15). "Everything is Hevel," the Teacher in Ecclesiastes says. The Bible Project videos say that while this is usually translated "meaningless" or "vanity," the Hebrew word is "smoke" or "vapor," so it is hard to grasp, chasing after the wind.  In the book of Job, he also also tries to make sense of suffering through a long dialogue and between Job and his friends.  The conclusion there seems to be that humans are too small to understand the universe and God's wisdom.

So while Proverbs makes it sound like you get to choose your own adventure in life, Ecclesiastes and Job seem somewhat fatalistic: you don't have control, trust God and have the best attitude you can in your circumstances. On the one hand, we are responsible to do our part in shaping goodness within our world, and at the same time, we are finite beings who choose to have faith that God's steadfast love is at work in ways we don't always understand. It makes for an interesting set of books. It makes for something of a conversation between perspectives; a conversation which, like our world and our lives, continues unsettled.