It's more blessed to give...

Saturday afternoon found us right on time for a rainy season down pour. We were at the shores of the Chagres River, right where it opens into the Canal.  The opposite side of the river was shrouded by a blanket of white.  The roar of the rain wiped out all other noises.

Thankfully, this downpour also found us under a roof.  We were waiting for a boat to cross over to the community of San Antonio.  We waited, wondering how anyone would venture out into the rain.  Slowly, a canoe came around the bend of the wide river, revealing two men on their feet, rowing towards us.  Alex's Dad had come to get us.  He and the other oarsman were soaking wet.

"Now that's love." commented Alex, as the canoe touched land.  After scooping out a good amount of water, we carefully embarked.  I couldn't help but noticing the large hole in the front of the canoe. I have traveled in the same canoe many times, but I don't remember the hole in the front looking that big.

"It's safe Alex, right?" I ask, needing some assurance.  He says nothing, just motions for us to hurry and get in. 

"We won't sink, will we?"  Maybe he is wondering why I am asking, since this is the boat his parent's always use.  Maybe it's the torrential rains, but I am feeling nervous.

"Just tell me it won't sink, please."  It wouldn't make is safer, but I would feel better if he would say the words.  Alex isn't obliging today.  I guess it's another opportunity to trust God.

We get in, maneuvering umbrellas to try and keep the girls dry.  No seats, we just try and sit/squat without getting too wet. I mentally rehearse how I would get rid of the umbrella and grab Abigail if the canoe suddenly filled with water.

The girls are happy, talking and playing in the canoe, excited to be visiting Abuela's house.  Finally, we arrive at the dock.  The girls run up to the house and climb the familiar log ladder, and give Abuela a hug.

Soon after, we head over to the neighboring Embera community, for a meeting, the main reason we have come.  Their community house (a large hut with dirt floor and a beautiful thatched roof) is full of people.  An older couple from Canada are there, as is our Pastor, Bill Wilbur.  The couple have brought a large donation for the indigenous communities of Gamboa and have asked the church to facilitate the gift.  As missions chairman of Gamboa Union Church, I have to help decide how this money can best benefit the community.

This is not an easy task.  Money can cause conflict. Large amounts of money can cause big conflicts.  I pray for wisdom as the meeting starts.  We have already decided how to distribute the money, but I am quite sure that not everyone in the community will see eye to eye with us.  It doesn't help that we have a mixture of Embera and Wounaan, organized into two distinct communities.

Alex gets up and gives a short teaching on how to use our money wisely, in hopes that this donation would be used in the best way possible.  Pastor Bill explains briefly how the donation will be made, and I get the fun job of answering questions and clarifying things.  As I expected, not all in agreement, but things remain civil.

As we wrap up, the community surrounds the donors, thanking them for the gift, and many giving small gifts back: local arts and crafts, botanical medicines, thanks and prayers.  In the back ground, a flock of parrots has taken up residence in a nearby tree, making conversation harder.  The howler monkeys sound close by, right in the village, although I can't see them through the branches.

As I ride back over to my in-laws house in their canoe, I contemplate the meeting, praying that this gift will truly be a blessing.  Praying that some will invest it, some will save, some will learn to give to others.  Praying for honesty on part of the leaders. Praying for peace between the communities.  The Bible tells us it is more blessed to give than to receive. I know the givers will be blessed.  I hope blessing will come for those receiving as well.