In Hidalgo there's a river
that's renewed my faith in grace;
strongly flows with cooling water
for my body and my face.

Lord, you knew that this was coming,
placed it on our journey back,
knew our bodies needed cleansing,
and our souls refreshment lacked.

So we walked the village pathway,
stood upon a huge rock shelf,
watched while water filled the spillway
doubted all and pinched ourselves.

It was real, the rocks and water,
rapids, holes and pools green!
So before our faith could falter
we plunged in that gracious stream.

Praise the Lord and Alleluia!
What a joy again to swim!
Feeling coolness flowing over,
diving deep to rise again.

I swam to where the falls descended
and with boys of naked brown
once again a child pretended–
clamored up and floated down.

What delight that river offered,
brought back faith in Mexico;
much resentment soon was covered,
washed away with river's flow.

All too soon we left the site,
heading back with work to do;
I returned to see that night
if it had another view:

Black and forceful, deaf'ning noise,
pluming shadows from the rocks,
awesome power, pride and poise,
spirit shaking with the shocks.

The river, God and I were there;
we talked of things both small and grand,
but mostly I within that prayer
thanked both for being close at hand.

(Written on August 16, 1982, toward the end of a summer spent in Mexico. I was on a two-month, summer mission trip, both challenging and transformative. I'm grateful for the experience, but, as is often the case in these situations, I learned a lot of hard lessons, mostly about  getting over my cheap self (as a friend of mine used to say) and realizing that "our way" is only one way out of many…and really no better, just different.)

Text and image © 2010 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.