January brought us the visit of three young men—Jonathan, Nathan, and Anson. Two from Virginia, one from Guatemala, all of them ready to work. They came to help with a fencing project on the farm, and Anson, in particular, did his best to surprise me with his arrival. Unfortunately for him, I caught wind of it before they reached Cusco. Even so, I was overjoyed to have them here.
Their visit came at a good time. Saying goodbye to Caleb and Belinda wasn’t easy, but having these three fellows, along with Tanner, around helped to ease that transition. We’re grateful for all the work they did. Tanner especially took the lead on the farm projects, making sure things kept moving, even when the rain tried to stop them. Despite the challenges, they accomplished a great deal, and I wish I could have spent more time with them.
Halfway through their visit, Anson received word that his grandmother had passed away in Virginia. She was dear to our family, and I consider her husband a mentor of mine. I decided to accompany Anson back to Virginia for the funeral.
Gabriela from Huaral came to be with my wife while I was away; she was a blessing. It was a joy to have a youth group for a few weeks. They had fun working and playing together.
It was a sorrowful but special trip to Virginia, one that coincided with the anniversary of Keith Crider’s passing. I was able to visit the cemetery and spend time with his family. It was meaningful for me.
I’ve never been one to visit graveyards. It’s never seemed necessary or particularly useful. I don’t tend to be sentimental in that way. But this time was different. For the first time, I found myself standing beside a headstone, crying.
Memorials and stones of remembrance appear throughout the Bible. We don’t set them up to glorify those who have come before us, but as reminders of who the Lord is and how He has worked. And as the years pass and the gray hairs slowly multiply, I’m beginning to understand the weight of that more and more.
As I watched my dear mentor walk through the grief of losing his wife, I was struck by the grace of the Lord Jesus in his life. The beauty of their love, the testimony of their marriage, the quiet endurance of faith. It challenged me to think about the memorial stones I’m leaving behind—not in the form of headstones, but in the way I live, in the testimony I leave for my family and those influenced by my life.
We don’t live our lives in hopes of having statues raised in our honor. But we do want to leave behind the testimony that the Apostle Paul left: Follow me as I follow the Lord Jesus.
Juan David 