Redefining 20/20 vision

This morning at breakfast, the girls asked me why I wear glasses. "To help me see," I said. "My eyes aren't shaped right, and so without my glasses I can't see." I took them off and tried to read Katy's sweatshirt, across the table from me. Failing, I put them back on and shrugged. "See? I need them."

Every 6 months, I receive a mailing from the local optometrist, informing me that the time has come to check my vision and see if I need to change my lens prescription. So it is also, as I have come to realize, with life. Every so often we need to "update our prescription" and take a moment to re-view our life in order to fully appreciate the beauty that God has given us.

When my friends, Maria and Jackie, who decided to come and visit me over their Spring Break, stepped out of the airport in Guatemala City, I could hardly run fast enough to get to them and wrap them in bear hugs. How wonderful to see friends from home! We loaded their things into the van I had rented and headed out on a 5 hour drive to Santiago, Atitlan, an indigenous village located on the shore of Lake Atitlan. Watching them take in the scenery reminded me of how I felt driving down the same roads during my first few days in Guatemala: wide-eyed and full of questions. Since then, life has taken on a certain normality. Things that at first dazzled or confused me, now seem every-day. The cow walking down the road, the erupting volcano seen out my window, beans and tortillas for breakfast and dinner have all become the norm. Yet, having them here with me reminds me of the beauty and wonder with which I am surrounded. Every time they take out their camera to capture a moment in time, I am reminded that each moment here is special and has its own unique qualities.

Even walking to the grocery store is an eye-opening experience. After passing the man and his cow walking home, you see the women with their babies tied onto their backs and the men hauling piles of wood by a piece of fabric tied around their foreheads. Just to watch them makes my back ache. Then in town, the indigenous women walk by in their beautiful fabric clothing and tuk-tuks (the cheap form of a taxi) rattle by, looking like little beetles scrambling across the road. Farther down, vans congregate in an open field, waiting to fill with passengers looking for a ride. Finally, you reach "Restaurant Row," filled with smells of atol, churrasco, and guacamole. The bus station is just at the end of the road and you can always hear the shouts of "Guate! Guate! Guate!" calling for people to ride into the capital.

Walking these streets nearly everyday, I have come to know them well. But having Maria and Jackie there with me, marveling at the sights, sounds, and differences between here and Michigan, I was reminded of just how truly special this place is. They have brought me a new lens prescription and helped me to re-see the beauty of my home.