Children with Fins

After logging about 4 hours snorkeling with my husband, I am suffering from the acute fear that our future children will have fins and flippers instead of arms and legs. Has the human genome project found any remedies for this?

In all seriousness, it is rather amazing to see the many varieties of fish and other sea life. The varieties of colors, shapes, and even swimming motions that I, with my untrained eye, can pick out are astounding. We saw a small, grey, speckled stingray; a brownish-greenish eel; several beautiful, tiny, bright blue fish with luminescent blue spots; a large, horned fish with leopard-like spots that fade into nothing as it swims over the white sand; striped angel-fish; rainbow-colored fish; trumpet fish; barracuda; and others of all shapes and sizes. Some are smaller than my pinky, some are half my size. It's amazing. What an amazingly creative God to make so many different types.

The weather has been gorgeous. It rained both Monday and Tuesday, but it's even pretty to watch the rain here. The rain has also kept the temperature down a bit, although it does increase the mugginess. I've had fresh tropical fruit, freshly caught fish, and the ever-elusive caipirinha. It's nice.

Tomorrow we embark on a snorekl tour to 3 different reefs. I hope I can still walk on land by the time it's over! My poor knee may think I'm trying to force its evolution into a fin of my own!

I should go, as I must dress for dinner. Adios.

Iglesia La Hermosa

I gathered all my nerve this evening and went to a Spanish service, all by myself.

It was a traumatic experience, considering how I hate new situations and crowds of strangers. However, I am determined to expand my linguistic horizons, and this seemed a good option. It was fun, in spite of my emotional trauma. I discovered how helpless and stupid it feels to know you sound like a 2-year old trying to communicate your thoughts. . .the few thoughts I was forced into trying to communicate before I escaped, that is.

Don't misunderstand. I fully intend to go back--regularly. Spanish is a beautiful language, and I am excited about finally building on my meagre foundation and finding somewhere to use it. I just know it will be. . .challenging.

Psalm 73

. . .it seemed a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God. . .vv16-17

Reading at random this morning, my eyes fell on Psalm 73. The verse above especially stood out.
In context, the psalmist is bemoaning the prosperity of the wicked, and the "wearisome task" is that of trying to understand the use of purity when the wicked are evidently more prosperous. His dilemma is solved when he goes "into the sanctuary of God" and "perceive[s] their end." The close of the chapter is a repentance and affirmation of continued faith.
I don't think it improper to take this verse out of context and focus on just this half-sentece. What a beautiful, utterly true reminder as I begin my last Monday with my students. Teaching does often seem "a wearisome task." Fortunately for us, the "sanctuary of God" is no longer only a physical place in the city, but a spiritual temple within us. My task need not remain wearisome.

But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, to tell of all your works. vv28