I sit on a log by the shore and watch a restless sea.  Beyond the reef high white rolling waves  and above the reef the surf sparkles as if a million diamonds are floating to shore.  It is Ash Wednesday and time to consider my mortality and the things I value in life.  

For 17 months we have lived with people who have little food to feed their families and children have red hair, dry skin and constant colds. 

Island teachers have received no salary for 6 months.  They can't feed families or pay tuition that would pay teachers. The child of a teacher is now at the hospital unable to breath and his wife called for money to be sent by boat.

Our clinic is closed as people have no money for medicine, and we have no doctor.

There is no water.  The generator works overtime and gets tired and lays down like the overburdened burros coming from the well or market.  Clothing and bodies smell, and strange things cook in pots over little wood fires.

Yet, the sun shines and makes diamonds on the sea.  Children laugh and play between naps and people do the best they can. 

As I sit and listen the sea reminds me there is pain everywhere.  From dust we come and our return is simply to once again be dust.  What has value is the time between.

A borrowed paryer says: Gracious God, when we would make much of that which cannot matter much to you, forgive us.  Amen