Two chickens scrounging anxiously for something to fill their stomachs, pecking their way along the dirt road and through the garbage piles; a round little boy with a lollipop in his mouth- walking, though with no sense of urgency; distorted Bachata music drowning out, in an almost surreal way, all the sounds that one would otherwise expect to hear; two young men lounging in plastic chairs enjoying an afternoon game of checkers- using bottle caps atop a thin piece of wood, with squares sketched roughly in pencil; a beautiful young girl twirling nearby is her stunning white Sunday dress, contrasting with the unimpressive, worn, dirt-stained clothes of her friends; mopeds bouncing and creaking, converging and weaving amid a multitude of rainbow-like houses, which, despite all the bars and barbed wire and ominous tapestries of power lines overhead, are welcoming with a warmth that mirrors the surrounding climate. Maria Auxiliadora is a strange, yet wonderful place. And here I am: standing at the intersection, my feet placed awkwardly between two mud puddles- remnants of a wild storm- flossing my teeth and asking my brother Dudo if I can borrow his shirt.

This is life. My life, yes, but more importantly our life. All these events are passing and we’re sharing in them together, as a community, in what is a wondrous and redemptive and breathtakingly mysterious journey, when one stops to consider it. I often try to ponder what God may be doing through it all, but of course it is far too grand for any one of us to understand. That’s part of the beauty- it’s collective and as inextricable as the countless spliced cords overhead. If we’re the cords then I suppose Jesus is the central transformer, holding everything together and making it coherent. We find our meaning in him.

Ordinary things, simple things- things that may even be deemed insignificant- are somehow brought together in Jesus. Observing two girls swinging back and forth on a tire filled with cement, hands grasping the pole, rocking back and forth and laughing, eyes fixed on one another’s faces; sharing dinner with my friends Tracy and Darin, talking and laughing and enjoying the atmosphere for hours; dancing on a smooth floor at Hector’s angelito party, spinning and shuffling and bumping elbows and enjoying the freedom- twenty of us, squished like sardines, in the living room, singing along to the romantic music.

Rob Bell puts it like this in his book Velvet Elvis: “What I find fascinating is how many of us have had moments like these when we were overwhelmed with the presence of something or somebody so- and it is hard to find words here- so good, so right, so true, so safe.

“Warmth, comfort, terror- but the good kind of terror. Maybe we should say ‘awe’. You have your own ways of describing these moments…Ordinary moments in ordinary settings that all of a sudden become infused with something else. With meaning. Significance. Hope…

“I assume you have had moments like this when you were caught up in something so much bigger than yourself that you couldn’t even put it in words. What is it about certain things that ignite something within? And is that something actually someone?

“Whatever those things are that make you feel fully alive and like the universe is ultimately a good place and you are not alone, I need a faith that doesn’t deny these moments but embraces them. I need spiritual understanding that celebrates these kinds of transcendent moments instead of avoiding them. These moments can’t be tangents. They can’t be experiences that distract from ‘real’ faith. These moments can’t exist on the edges, because they are a part of our faith. A spirituality that is real will have to make sense of them and show us how they fit. They are expressions of what it means to live in God’s world.

So all these blessed, holy, kingdom revealing moments- combined with the unavoidable tension caused by unjust, brutal, painful moments- collide to bear testimony to a big savior who is healing a deep problem. We’re not there yet, but I give thanks to God for how the beauty of his redemption is revealed in countless ways in this place. Heaven is shining forth even now- the light piercing the darkness- epitomized in the Son. “The reality,” Paul writes, “is found in Christ.”