I took too many photos (Is that even possible?) during my recent trip to Guatemala. Whittling down the images I processed in black and white for this post was a bit painful. Like trying to tell Baskin-Robbins what flavor I want. (In case you’re interested, it’s always vanilla. I know… I know…)
This first gallery contains images from Antigua, Santa Maria de Jesús, Santiago Atitlan and Altamira Oriole Antigua.
Opportunities to love the unnoticed and to care for the forgotten are opportunities to have your soul grounded in what matters, and liberated from all the temporal pursuits that occupy so much of our mental and spiritual energy.
Our contact in Guatemala took us to a ministry in Santa Maria de Jesús that provided a solid foundation for the best that we image bearers carry – namely our longing to connect and to express love for others – as well as giving us a chance to be uncaged from our many preferred prisons. Examples abound.
The ministry is called Harvesting Happiness. The work is profoundly simple and indescribably beautiful. Provide lunch for the elderly population. Provide a gathering space where the aged can enjoy a meal, create art, and have their birthday’s celebrated. They also bring lunch to the elderly who cannot walk due to illness or other physical limitations. Beautiful.
Which brings us to Carmen, and her home.
Standing next to Carmen is Brennan. She is one of the ministry leaders at Harvesting Happiness who leverages her medical training to help Carmen’s oxygen saturation go from below 90 to a marginally acceptable level that morning, and consistently uses her super power (love and other-centeredness) to impact the elderly community around her. Carmen considers Brennan to be her “mom.” Carmen remembers her mom, and feels like the love, care, and medical oversight that she experiences through Brennan is her mother’s love returning to her. Our Guatemala contact built her home a few years back.
Let me encourage you to find the unnoticed and to love them. Let me also encourage you to find ways to be uncaged. Thanks for stopping by. I don’t know when exactly it is, but… Happy Birthday.
The Summer of 2026 has been busy with trips, vacation, work, etc. I have neglected my photoblog, but would like to invite you to my grand-reopening with the first of two posts from my trip to Guatemala. Since 2022 our church has been sending mission teams to minister at orphanages and to build homes in an under resourced community. So, here are a few color images from this beautiful country. The vehicle above is known as a “chicken bus.” There is no organized public transportation in the cities, so these refurbished, tricked out, beautifully painted buses are common. I would love to do a photo project one day in Guatemala and take as many images of these buses as I can.
Regarding building homes… this is what a home looks like:
El Zapote is a small community at the base of Fuego, an active volcano in Guatemala. We partner with a Guatemalan church to build homes for families. Having the opportunity to bless these families with a home of their own is my favorite part of these trips. When we complete the project we surround the family, pray for them, then officially present them with the keys to their new home. Yes… I cry every time.
And then… the children…
The orphanage we work at is located in Santiago, Atitlan, Guatemala, near Lake Atitlan. The beauty of this region is only matched (and exceeded) by the beauty of these kids. These are just a few images of a large ministry that cares for orphans in Guatemala from pre-school age to 18. I’ll close with various images from our trip, including one of an elderly woman that I will write about in my next post. Thanks for stopping by.
moments that make you stop press the brake turn off the engine witness ponder and weep and i must tell you why beholding beauty takes intentionality a decision to fight the pull of gravity the darkness of this world birthed of pride arrogance abides amidst the lies that sound so noble that sound so true but if your eyes are open you will see hidden in the gray light blind leaders with black souls immovable stubbornness meet resistance with persistent songs of hubris and insolence and lives are lost icy parades march on drones scream hearts go pale a son cannot hear his mother's wails and sighs a fatherless girl is forgotten lost in an ocean of why eyes taken from this world never to witness God’s lavish crimson stroke on a blue canvas Lord have mercy help me to remember
This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet. This is my Father’s world: the battle is not done: Jesus Who died shall be satisfied, And earth and Heav’n be one.*
if the light can reach my soul then why can’t i find my way if the words can pierce my mind then why are there none to say if the room is filled with friends then why am i so alone if i just can’t see the end then where am i to go
if i can sing a melody of fire then why is it cold at night if i can walk along a distant shore then why am i sad and my eyes so dry if i can run into your arms then why is the path so long if i can wander in a field of memories then why do i awake forlorn
fly oh my soul fly the Light has come down for you guiding your searching soul His promises faithful and and true for they will mend and make you whole and remember the never-forsaking God is beside you let His embrace define you
fly oh my soul fly His fire will scatter the night stay on the sorrowful shore and raise your tears to the sky as you open your heart and let go of the why yes it’s narrow and steep so stay on your knees and fly oh my soul fly
we are young we are sparkling newborn souls and our bones ache and our hearts creak and shadows now travel along our optic nerve
eternity beckons and we age only to realize we are beginners and the wisdom collection we keep on our shelf only reminds us of our duplicity and all that is mysterious and unknown within and without
tidal memories ebb and flow within our mind leaving behind empty shells some speaking of beauty and the brightness of life others cracked and shattered souvenirs of the hard road of the painful storms
but we are beginners every day and our God has planted eternity in our hearts endless time is within us it is no wonder we long for lasting peace we search for a deep abiding joy we ache for a love that isn’t tossed by the waves of this tumultuous life
we are bound by time and an immortal presence resides in our hearts
we are shackled to schedules coordinate our calendars while something that is ageless beckons our attention
it seems to me that we could use some time in the mourning house to see how tightly we are tethered to the earth and its own decay and to weep to mourn and wail in order to awaken the Eternal in our hearts to begin a new query into what is real what is lasting what is true
let us be boundless by being present to the undying Light and Love that perpetually shines in us let us be free of these passing moments by surrendering to our Creator God while we walk on the earth we can touch heaven in His redemption and in the grace of His Son we walk on the road while we dance in the skies and await all things new
What does the crucifixion and death of Jesus on the Cross say to our modern, latte driven, texting oriented, overscheduled lives?
One of my earliest memories as a child was the large Cross in the sanctuary of the church I grew up in. When I tell my story I talk about how I first heard God speak to me as I pondered the Cross. It was not an audible voice I heard. It was more like an understanding that gently covered me. Looking at the figure of an emaciated, gaunt, suffering Jesus nearly dangling on a cross is the most important moment and image any one of us will ever behold or contemplate.
It is there where the mystery of the love and mercy of God meets the sin and darkness in my soul. It is there where the whole world can find freedom and forgiveness and where God lifts the burden and pain of failure and shame from the back of our souls, and from the very core of our being.
I am not speaking of magic, or some metaphysical allegory that somehow heals my brokenness. The Cross is not a place upon which we toss our wishful thinking. Reject it, mock it, turn away from it in disbelief… its power and proclamation remains undiminished… unhindered:
He did not retaliate when he was insulted, nor threaten revenge when he suffered. He left his case in the hands of God, who always judges fairly.
He personally carried our sins in his body on the cross so that we can be dead to sin and live for what is right. By his wounds you are healed. Once you were like sheep who wandered away. But now you have turned to your Shepherd, the Guardian of your souls. – 1 Peter 2:23-25
The Cross is real. The suffering is unimaginable. In the course of human history no one has suffered like Jesus did. No one. Ever. Isaiah rightly describes Jesus and, apart from His grace and mercy, my response to Him. Our response to Him:
He was despised and rejected—a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. We turned our backs on him and looked the other way. He was despised, and we did not care. – Isaiah 53:3
And it is the suffering of Jesus that, even as a young boy, called from deep within me a profound and unstoppable hope.
Look at the Cross. Reflect on the suffering of Jesus. This is what the love of God looks like. As a boy, I remember the light from the candles in St. Raphael’s parish dancing on the face of Jesus. Hope in flashes of flickering light on the crucified Christ. Now, so many years later, I realize that one of the many gifts of the suffering of Jesus is the assurance that he knows my suffering. He knows our suffering.
Have you ever been falsely accused? I bet you didn’t like it. Have you ever heard a friend make a promise to have your back and to see you through to the end, only to have that friend leave you all alone. All of Jesus’ friends did that to him. Have you ever felt that aweful deep down ache because you were misunderstood? Have you ever been physically struck and hurt because someone else thought it was funny? Have you ever been made fun of? Mocked? Have you ever experienced anxiety? Jesus sweated drops of blood as he prayed to His Father to, …take this cup from me.
Jesus chose to suffer for you. Now we can look to Him and ask Him to guide us, give us grace and help us in our suffering and pain. But we must follow Him. It is too easy to want resurrection – and all praise to God, for Jesus is alive. But the only road to life and the light of Christ is the road of suffering.
We must follow Him along the via Dolorosa. The release from our pain, the soothing of our anxiety, the healing of our bodies, the calming of our mind is along the path of darkness, uncertainty, disorientation, rejection and confusion. It is taking our Cross and following Jesus. It is kneeling beside Him in the garden and saying not my will, but yours be done.
Good Friday. 2026. The Cross of Jesus.
Will you reflect on the Cross today? Will you see Jesus suffering for you so that you, in the midst of heartache, loss, anxiety, rejection, and sorrow, can also experience the hope and understanding of our loving Savior?
Over the course of my life it seems that Jesus has continually reminded me of the grace, love and power of the Cross.
There was a Cross above us on the day we were married. I saw the Cross at the end of a pew in the sad remains of the church I grew up in. I saw the Cross in a small wooden prayer room decorated with the prayers of God’s children. I saw the Cross brightly break through a cold, winter morning. I saw the Cross on Salvation Mountain. I saw the Crosses that my mom placed all over her house. I saw the Cross in the midst of the tragic loss of life, when so much ended for so many. I saw the Cross in a new sanctuary. Still speaking to listening ears.
Ponder the Cross of Jesus. Let the Man of Sorrows cover your sin and shame. Walk with Him… listen to Him… confess your sins to Him… receive His forgiveness… He. Loves. You.
i’m on a road i think i’m in control i think i know where i need to go i think i can see i think i can find my way back home i think there’s nothing behind me so why am i surprised at the tears in my eyes trying to be free while looking for a sign to ease my mind as i struggle to leave behind all the troubled times i carry in my soul things said and done they take a toll make me want to run but i choose to stay and follow the Way i sing of amazing grace i sing through my tears of a perfect love that drives away fear as the rain plays a melody reminding me that i am not in control but i’m safe in the shadow of the wings of His love as i travel on my way home
where is heart of the church the part that heals and feels pain and seeks to secure the good of the poor the stranger the unnoticed we pursue innovation but we need renovation of the inside of our soul the content of our heart so we can be a part of redeeming all that fell and all the hell in and around us as well
it is time to rebuild to be still to make a decision of the will to put on the Lord Jesus clothed in grace we move into the world that God so loved that he gave and embrace the stranger welcome the foreigner we face our flaws surrender our rights and set our sights on washing feet extending a hand we stand as ambassadors of the Way and we stay we forgive today we live not for ourselves but for those in need for those who cry and die alone for those who cry without a home
what has gone wrong that we have become a resounding gong we sing all those sunday songs and harbor hate hold a grudge belittle our spouse to name just a few and hide in the house of our pride we mock and scorn an opposing view and then we lock our soul in the rigid soil of i must win and we stew in the cauldron of our sin
Holy Spirit enter into the dark hidden sins for we are clanging cymbals who serve and sing and teach we study read and systematically arrange our grand theology and solve the mysteries give knowledge increase but we are just running from what is the greatest of these we are nothing without love
renovate our mind restore our heart we have made such a mess let us be people of kindness taking our place in rhythms of grace walking talking and loving as if we really believe that he has Risen
I cannot recall a time when I felt more proud and profoundly sad – to the point of weeping – at the same time.
My mother and father were not wanted in the white suburban neighborhood that was the cultural context of my home. I only found out as an adult that my parents experienced racism. In junior high and high school I was often called a “spic” and also experienced racism.
My parents and the beautiful, crazy, loving till it hurt, generous, loud, FUNNY, hard working, intelligent, beautiful Puerto Rican family that I was a part of was the song, dance, and light of my life.
Dancing in the basement of my uncle’s house in the Bronx while LP’s spun Salsa music in the air are golden memories that I would love… just love to step into and experience once again… even if it was just 5 minutes to see what, as a boy, I could not fully comprehend: people filled with so much love and joy who were also familiar with heartache, tragedy, misery and pain.
And, if I could be there again… just for 5 minutes… I would embrace them all and thank them and praise them for all the goodness, kindness and love they gave to me. They certainly weren’t perfect… but they were present… to me, to each other, and they found solace and refuge in their culture. A culture that celebrates, rejoices, works so hard, laughs and loves. They understood that together we are family.
My mother and father are Americans who were born in Puerto Rico. In case you are not aware, Bad Bunny is also an American born in Puerto Rico. I am the first generation on my father’s side born in New York. I am also an American. I still remember the sadness in my mother’s eyes because she struggled to speak English. My mom and dad are the most American Americans that I will ever know. They never forgot who they were and the beauty and depth of the culture of La Isla del Encanto
For the past 2-3 weeks I have been listening to Bad Bunny’s Grammy Award winning album, Debí Tirar Más Fotos. The songs feel like the soundtrack of my life. I could not be more proud to be Puerto Rican.
I was told that we are “…one nation, under God, INDIVISIBLE with LIBERTY and JUSTICE for ALL.” We can only make that pledge with integrity if we make it our mission. We can only make that pledge with honesty if that is how we choose to live and love others, especially those from all the nations that make up our nation. It seems that our behavior and our chosen allegiances reveal a different pledge: “…a nation, under siege from within, with liberty and justice for some…”
When Bad Bunny ended his amazing performance with “Together We are America” and the parade of flags from Latin American nations I began to think of the nations that make up our nation. I see no reason not to celebrate and learn about the nations that make up our nation, because together we are America. I see no reason not to listen, empathize and give liberty and justice for those who are marginalized, forced to live in fear, or just trying to make their way because they struggle with English, because together we are America. I see no reason not to dance, sing and celebrate my heritage and culture in the land of the free(?) because together we are America.
Thank you, mom and dad, for loving well. Thank you for being brave, strong and true to who you are in the midst of racism and hatred. Thank you for making life not about those who hate, but about passing on your heritage and legacy of laughter and love.
One day, when God gives justice and all is made right, our nation’s flag and pledge will no longer matter. It will be irrelevant. All nations will surrender before the true King of Kings. All nations will bow before the majesty and splendor of the victorious Savior of the world. We can celebrate all nations now because the nations will be welcome in eternity. Not just one nation. All nations.
I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their splendor into it. On no day will its gates ever be shut, for there will be no night there. The glory and honor of the nations will be brought into it. Revelation 21:22-26
every moment is in the past every experience dissolves into a memory as soon as a moment in time arrives it retreats into yesterday the crimson and deep blue sea colors of a sunrise merge with a new day and they quietly disappear after loudly announcing the gift of a new day a photograph tries to stretch the brevity of the moment
but it remains powerless to make the moment last it only amplifies the memory which in turn makes the moment more elusive it only brings to our consciousness that the moment has slipped away and continues to slip away beyond our reach it only represents the beauty and majesty of the Creator and brings us face to face with this mysterious transient thing that we call life which i think is why an old stoic and wise man once said
It is better to go to a home where there is mourning than to one where there is a party, because the living should always remind themselves that death is waiting for us all. Sorrow is better than laughter; it may sadden your face, but it sharpens your understanding. Someone who is always thinking about happiness is a fool. A wise person thinks about death. *
a bit dark
i suppose
but also true
pondering impermanence stills our striving for things that do not last heals our hearts of passions that never satisfy pauses our pride in who we think we are
so i will welcome the loud colors let the moments slip away even as i too am slipping away following the crimson and deep blue colors pondering the promises of a heavenly voice
He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. **
rutakintome pictures 
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