Saturday Afternoon at Bethel House

Two days of rain finally came to an end this afternoon. The sun is shining. The solar lamps stand sentinel-like and recharge. The dishes dry in the sun. 

Across the street at the 7^th Day Adventist Church, a men’s quartet practices songs from my childhood—songs that my father, Lyle Chase, and their tenor and baritone partners offered during Sunday evening worship. Sometimes Dad and Mom sang in SATB quartets as Sunday evening “special music.” Funny how this place, Beni, calls up memories of the small manufacturing town and railroad stop where I grew up, Corry, PA.

But this day. From my perch at my desk, I look directly at the wall surrounding our compound. Just above stands the top of Renaly’s Alimention, “La Devouverte” (Renaly’s Grocery Story: The Discovery). Renaly’s is a sort of Beni strip mall. It's a long, low building with several “storefronts.” A bar, a shop that sells food items and sundries, a coiffure, and a pharmacie operate on the premises. Renaly’s Alimentation livens our evenings with a repetitive playlist at volumes that meriting a call to local authorities for “disrupting the peace” in the US.

The gospel quartet has disbursed. The street now plays its music. Motos rumble past as the bass and percussion. A radio at the alimentation sings a tenor line. Women call out greetings and a group of children plays behind us. A baby cries a sad melody against the harmonies. A songbird chips an occasional ornamentation, a grace note frequently lost in the din. Sometimes the delicate note calls out of a slice of quiet before the downbeat.

I have to think in these terms and find beauty in the din. Otherwise the sounds crash against each other and scream insults. I want quiet. I want only the songbird’s singular and gentle grace notes. I want the motos and the radio and the honking to cease. 

I want. I want. I want.

 

If I were in the US right now I would be railing against the onslaught of holiday advertisements, cheap music, and the siren call to buy more than I can afford or anyone needs.

So, I have a choice. Wish. Want. Stew in “If only” and “Why don’t they…?” Or accept what is and change what I can. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change what I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Oh….and enjoy the sun!