A Well-Ordered Life

(Click on pictures to enlarge)

The city of Funchal is getting another facelift. Over the past few years, many of the narrow streets of the city center have been closed to traffic and reserved for pedestrians, and this summer, two blocks of one side of the central avenue have been transformed into a pedestrian mall. Patiently, the workmen sit or squat, and some of them take the black basalt rock or white limestone rock and break them into "cubes"; other workers set the cubes one by one into the base of sand that's been prepared; finally, cement is spread over the top of the rockwork and allowed to settle in the cracks before the excess is cleaned off. The result is the typical Portuguese mosaic sidewalks.

What began as piles of sand and rocks eventually becomes a well-ordered pattern. Here, the designs are linear, but there's no limiting the possibilities. Flower motifs, designs of ships, circular patterns, wave-like formations, checkerboards ... there's a little bit of everything around town. Someone knew beforehand what the pattern was going to look like in the end, and that someone told the workmen how to set the black rocks and the white rocks so they would come out that way. The stones are not set by chance, but according to rulers and pattern molds.

It's a struggle to keep the affairs of life in order. I have a Palm PDA to help me keep my appointments in order. Of course, 1) I have to remember to enter my tasks and appointments into the PDA, AND.... 2) I have to remember to check it to see if there's something I'm supposed to remember. I used to always carry a small notebook and a fistfull of papers in my pocket to remind me of such things, but on the whole, it never was an efficient system. Using the PDA does seem to be an improvement, but I still have two steps to take that are my responsibility. That's plenty!


No sooner had I returned from our trip to the US, than the requests for translations started pouring in. Chaos is creeping up on me...so many jobs, so many deadlines, so many degrees of urgency. Fortunately, above and beyond all this, there is order in the universe. Beyond the apparent chaotic conditions of the present storm, there is an over-arching goal, a final destination of this voyage. There is One who knows how to take the chaotic piles of black rocks and white rocks, the experiences of life, good and bad, and set them one by one into a pattern of His choosing.


One thing about the way the Portuguese make their sidewalks: it's labor-intensive. Think about covering an area the size of a football field, one little rock at a time. Sure, it would be quicker to bring in the ready-mix cement trucks and pour an acre of concrete slab, but it wouldn't be nearly as beautiful, would it? I guess God could "pour a slab" in my life and dispense with my daily struggles with bearing the cross, but the end result wouldn't be nearly as beautiful. I get in a hurry sometimes, but it's best to let Him pattern my life, one painful/joyful experience at a time, setting them in line with His ruler and His molds.

Not really a vacation

We've been back just a week now, and already the pace of life is picking up. The weather isn't very conducive to doing anything at a fast pace, however. We are in the throes of a leste, (Portuguese for "east"), the hot wind coming off the African desert 300 miles east of us. The temperatures are in the 90's (32ºC+) in the daytime, which is very rare for us, and at night, the wind is still hot, with the lows in the upper 70's (25ºC+). No airconditioning in the house, so sleeping with the heat and humidity is a problem.

First task this morning was to come to town and get José Carlos, Marcia and Susana to take them to the airport, but it's not really a vacation for them. Marcia is going to Porto, in northern Portugal, for radiation treatments to complete her treatment for Hodgkin's lymphoma. She finished her series of chemotherapy treatments here in Madeira in August. She'll probably be away for three weeks; José Carlos will stay as long as possible, perhaps two weeks; Susana has to return the 16th to enroll in university classes for the fall semester.

As I mentioned in the last post, we had the day off Sunday. Aurélio preached morning and afternoon, and the music in the morning was provided by three members on guitar. In the afternoon, a couple of the young people in the church, Sara and Raquel, played the piano. Didn't get a picture of them, I'm afraid, but they'll be playing more in the future.

Aurélio's parents were from Madeira, but he and his brother, Orlando, were born in Kinshasa, Congo. Aurélio lives in Mauritania with his Dutch wife, Sitske, and two children. They lived in Morocco for a number of years; now they're in Mauritania. They spent the summer here, so he filled in for me.





Albert, Sandra and Luisa played for the morning services.

Sunday, My Day Off

I've always had a bit of a problem understanding most people's concept of the "week end". Perhaps I should say that I think I understand it, but I've never been in a position to experience it in the same way. Sunday has always been a "work day", from morning to night, with as many as four lessons or sermons, normally in two languages, and lately in three.

A lot of pastors take off Monday as a "day off", a sort of week-end replacement. But for nearly 20 years I taught English, and Monday was a work day. The consulate, of course, is open on Mondays, so Monday has never been an option for a day off. Tomorrow is Labor Day in the US, so I have that holiday and won't go to the consulate. (But then I'll be going to the prison for a couple of hours of Bible study in the afternoon, so I don't really have a day without outside obligations.)

Today, however, is my day off. When we got home Wednesday, we were just in time to attend the prayer meeting. As the church was not certain we would be there, the members were in charge of the meeting. We were also told that we (meaning Abbie, too, with the music) would have this Sunday off. The members will take care of all the teaching and preaching, as well as the music. Another phase in the growth of the church. They're like the kid who has come to realize he can swim, or ride a bicycle on his own, and they know how proud we will be to watch them do it. Days off are nice, I think.