What you see when driving in darkness in the D.R.

A long awaited escape to the beach, family in tow, I found myself pointing my camera into the darkness as we wound and swerved, straining to see, who and what was before us . . .

People on the streets, motos without lights, children running to and from colmados (a.k.a. little tiny neighborhood convenience stores), pockets of people gathered around domino tables, clammering on the sidewalks, a collision of senses, the flicker of a candle, power out, plastic chairs lined up side by side, the prisms shattered of a disco ball spinning every once in a while.    The slam of the dominos on the table, the fusion of competing music - was it a speaker truck or two houses "sharing" music?  The Dominican community - something to be marveled at, I thought.  Neighbors being truly neighborly. Passing slow enough to see them and smile and fast enough to blur them.

Snap. Snap. Snap as the sound of the shutter stimulates more scenes and more thoughts.  How this place has changed me.  Scripture references bombard my thoughts - darkness and light, and I snap some more.  Such a dark place.  No, not the Dominican.  Me.  But I came to share what I do not possess in and of myself, but here I am.  I am willing, but useless, apart from Him.  Yet, what is so striking about the darkness, is not the darkness at all, but how it is defined by the presence or absense of light.  Darkness is not capable of defining itself, neither am I, though the world may tell me so.

The glow of that glowy orb draws my attention - so vibrant and warm and inviting.  Isn't the light alluring?

The roads here are so dark and unpredictable.  There are potholes unforseen. Can't help but notice the cow crossing signs every 50 feet in those parts.  Add to list - watch for kids, motos w/o lights, cows and donkeys.  I'll take "What is eye strain?" for 100, Alex.  Yet, I can't stop watching, looking, seeking.

No street lights, no car lights and/or too bright of lights on the occasional car blinding you from the other direction makes it a treacherous stretch.  Yet the stars reach out so brightly, faces of children with the noses pressed against car windows sending their curious thoughts towards the sparkling diamonds in the sky, and then . . . . there they were . . .

Never seen 'em here in the D.R.  Not even on major highways, let alone in cow crossing, no cell service, darkness lit up by stars part of the country.  Not once.  R.E.F.L.E.C.T.O.R.S.   Crazy, beautiful, well spaced out and OH SO HELPFUL.  Snap. Snap. Snap. Love the streaky streaks snaking so alive like.

Jesus is the light in the dark place, and I am the reflector.  Or am I?  Depends on the moment and my heart condition, but OH how I want to be.