Thursday, August 3, 2017

And everywhere I go, people are singing “Depacito.”


The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures : and leads me beside still waters. He revives my soul : and guides me along right pathways for His name’s sake. Psalm 23: 1-3

Vi que tu mirada ya estaba llamándome. Muestrame el camino que yo voy. –Luis Fonsi

I took out this chunk of time from a fairly tightly orchestrated life with lots of checklists and schedules and emails to deal in order to practice the command to “Follow Me” with no hesitation and with lightness in my step.

And everywhere I go this summer, the song “Despacito,” is being sung in full blast chorus, from those sitting around darkened beer halls or accompanied by blaring car speakers, to a busload of Christian young people and to small children dancing under the sprinklers.

The lyrics are actually a bit detailed graphic for such broad enthusiasm, but so is The Song of Solomon.  And there is something gripping and palpitating and organic about His love for us, for me, His beloved.

Yesterday, after a long WhatsApp conversation with Nicole, I slid on my full knapsack, cinched the hip strap, and headed up the cobbled hills, just to put my old knees and ankles to the test. My itinerary seemed pretty simple: the castle on top of the great big hill, a bank to deposit my costs for Taíze into the church account, and a trip back and forth through Old Town and its swarms of tourists on my way to my next Secret Shopper hostel. Especially with a fully charged iPhone and gMaps with all of the proper pins, easy peasy.

But in Prague, nothing is simple, when guidebooks wax eloquent of fairy tale spires and ancient stone gates, what they really mean are mysteriously convoluted streets and twisting trails up and into dense forests. And sometimes GPS likes to take a little break and just pulse silently and sometimes it leads me right to a cliff hundreds of feet above the bridge I am to cross.

Which was perfectly delightfully fine. It was just me and no one else, tromping past the gilt art deco and through the aching crowds and past haunting doorways into the splattering raindrops.


Nope, correction. it was just me and Jesus. Sent out two by two in order to learn to hear His voice, “Follow Me.”

So I invented a little prayer today, crossing myself as a gentle reminder, as I walked by so many churches reaching up to heaven and so many iron cast outstretched arms reaching out for His beloved world and so many downward looking eyes seeking His lost sheep.

Merciful Lord God, please give me Your thoughts (God the Father, touch my forehead), please give me Your heart (God the Son, touch my chest), ​please give me Your strength and power (God the Spirit, touch each of my shoulders), in the name of Jesus, Amen. 

A simple reminder which I long to become the rhythm of my soul. As we journey on together, two by two, sent.


God, we know that You never fail us. Even in our suffering and loneliness, help us to hear the whisper of Your love. Be our refuge and shelter, and remind us over and over that we are Your beloved. Amen.