Puerto Rican Salutations

"And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of [buildings that have laid waste for] many generations; and you shall be called Repairer of the Breach, Restorer of Streets to Dwell In." (Isaiah 58:12 AMP)

I'm sitting in a blue room provided by a cousin of my grandmother...Waldymar. He and his wife Eneida have given grandma and I the room with the aircon! I am blessed as the 90 degree weather at 6am (slightly reminiscent of Pemba summers) can be warm! I'm thankful for this blessing.

We've done so much the past 5 days here...beginning in San Juan and the El Morro fort, El Yunque (the rainforest), getting lost in Rio Piedras to visit a cousin, a lechonera (I did see a skewered cerdo), and eat a Puerto Rican dish called mofongo (mashed green banana, garlic, and one other ingredient I JUST discovered that I will not repeat;) lol) made from the local Chinese drive thru...Next we went to visit grandma's nephew Carmelo in Fajardo...another roadtrip and getting lost...it seems many people know their urbanizations so well they don't know how to give directions and our American (praise the Lord P.R. is AT&T 3G compatible) gps' don't know whether to register in English or español! But it's all an adventure...Fajardo gave us an invitation to a 4th of July Barbecue in Guayama with Carlo's family... The day after Fajardo (July 3) we decided on a last minute trip to Mayaguez (west coast, grandfather's birthplace) but do to traffic we only got (24 km shy of Mayaguez) to Aguada and grandma's birthplace, lot where her house used to be and St. Francis parish where she was baptized. Aguada and Aguadillo two neighboring cities will both tell you Columbus landed there first when he discovered Puerto Rico (ask Grandma for the story...she'll tell you it's Aguada;)

A whirlwind it seems thus far, but July 4th is the day that has taken the cake...The scripture above I feel is what this trip is about...the picture above is a little lady (grandma on the left) building bridges with relations she has not seen in years. A woman who lives thousands of miles a away has managed in the span of 5 days to reconnect with 3 generations--4 if you count the generations growing.

The first few days were a challenge for me because as grandma would ask questions, it seemed that people in this family (which are mine as well) have forgotten their history, have been dispersed throughout PR and have not really followed each other's journeys. And yet, 5 days into this trip, this little 4'6" Puerto Rican dynamite has built bridges between family...if not for those here--for choices to visit and rekindle family flames must be made--for us, for my generation for those in the west who do have a root here in Puerto Rico. This little woman has built bridges with love that two generations (My uncle Michael and myself) of the Brignoni family can now safely cross...

There is a legacy that has been forgotten and still can be discovered. I admire my grandma and her desire to see her roots, to know the history of the time since she left Puerto Rico, and her hope to love as well as she can...

Back to July 4...I didn't quite understand what this trip would look like and have not felt "home" until we made it to Patillas to see Ana, the last living sister of her mother Juana. Again we got lost, this time in Patillas...and it's a good thing too, because Ana's son Ray came and found us and led us through the countryside to this beautiful house hidden amidst Papaya, Mango, Acerola, Breadfruit, Passion Fruit, Avocado, And other trees, herbs, Gallos, Gallinas, and pollitos...river and luscious tropical landscape...I felt like I was home, unable to speak the language yet speaking the language of the heart being welcomed in with hospitality and allegria. With the sweetest juiciest delicious fresh fruits freely given...and to see a reunion...although completely unlike the bush bush in Africa, I felt like I was on such a journey...no questions asked come in, eat, stay, see and learn...Ana had two houses on her property...and 4 generations living there...secluded from "normal" and today a bridge was built upon an ancient foundation and perhaps one day these will be able to cross the bridge into our world, culture and lives...

There is a story to be told, I am beginning to discover this part of it. Tomorrow we will visit the site where in 1952 my grandfather Pedro lost his entire family in a plane crash. His story didn't end and his family's legacy is yet to be told...Perhaps as I follow this spunky grandmother around, we will discover the richness of our inheritance forgotten to see it restored and left to the future generations...

So...in a nutshell...we've seen much, have much still to see, have gotten lost many times, but In the discovery of being found, richness is being uncovered, the oro (gold) is being mined and treasures that have been hidden are now in our midst...

Thanks for letting me debrief...for journeying with me...and for dreaming dreams. That there would be peace on earth...that breaches would be repaired, and bridges rebuilt...to see generations united in love!!

Love,
Desi:)

Fluttering on the Wind

"The Wind blows where it wishes and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit..."

Dearest friends,
One of my favorite place to hang out at the Village of Joy in Pemba is the prayer hut in the midst of this incredibly beautiful garden. This hut has a 360-degree view of landscape and ocean, and sets a stage for some amazing sunrise views too. I love praying—it’s what I was born for; communion with the King—and I love the spectacular views of the ocean; but this simple hut called Bethel (house of God) is my favorite place of all because of the WIND…

Throughout the last two years, I’ve spent nearly a year living in Pemba…I’ve experienced the hot season and the hotter season…during both, WIND is a blessing. Not only does it cool, but it it also makes it harder for mosquitoes to fly. In all the places on our base, the ONE place that without fail has some sort of wind, or light breeze, is our house of prayer. It is almost as if to show the tiniest glimpse of His omnipotence and omnipresence to His sons and daughters crying out day and night in the midst of a wilderness that He is there.

I am rather fond of the Wind. I love how it cools my house in Pemba, I love how it sounds when it blows against objects in the midst of stronger gusts, and I love that I can imagine how many colors must float on its wings in every season--winter, summer, fall and spring. I love that the wind is my reminder that the omniscient God is really ever present leading me joyously and spontaneously through this crazy little adventure called life! It is the wind of His Spirit that beckons me, carrying me on the wings of His love, leading me where He wishes…

Mozambique: The Memory of my heart—
When I made the decision to go to Africa, two years ago, and with each subsequent trip back, I fully thought I would be living my life there. I thought that Pemba, Mozambique would be home—and the “west” would be the distant memory that I would visit from time to time. But, as the wind blows where it wishes…I have returned to California—My Mozambican home, it seems for a time, will now be the memory in my heart that I get to eagerly await to revisit when the Wind blows me back!

The theme is the Wind—Spirit

I can relate to Jesus’ statement in John 3: though I may hear the sound of the Wind, I might not know where it will blow me “next.” I am daily learning to trust the Divine leadership of the Spirit of God fully convinced He knows where He’s going—It may at times look like a whirlwind that drops out of nowhere, or a steady breeze that blows the sails of a boat, or there may be a sudden stop and movement is not possible—the flag won’t fly and the sail falls lifeless—Is it the sail’s fault it cannot blow in the wind? What an absurd question don’t you think? Sometimes the wind just stops and the boat captain is forced to make a decision in order to move his ship. In Mozambique, many of the fisherman boats have sails, and if the wind stops, most of these boats will sink, not float. So the captain must decide on a plan of action...Does he wait for the wind again, or does he paddle to shore? Maybe the wind has shifted direction? Or perhaps it is time for him to return to shore to get a new boat?

For a season the Wind was blowing my life across the seas of missions in Mozambique; I am not the captain of my ship, but the Spirit of God is, and He sailed us to the West where He is now beginning to blow upon dreams in my heart that have been waiting for such a time as this…a sudden shift in wind direction can only mean…

It’s time for a NEW boat!