Derrick Charles is MCC Co-Representative for Nicaragua and Costa Rica.
Ever since picking up the guitar in middle school, I’ve enjoyed playing and creating with music. Over the years, making music has also been a way to reflect on Christian faith, our relationships, and our world.
Since we’ve come to Nicaragua, there has been much to process: adjusting and learning as a family, just local and international relationships, climate change, thinking and rethinking development, and now most recently, sociopolitical unrest.
I’ve shared some homegrown recordings of these songs as a glimpse into our experience and in the hope that someone else may enjoy them as well. The three below originally appeared on our family blog.
Like drops of water in an open hand
I’ve had some inspiration to share some songs again. Here’s one that I had written some months back about one of our favorite spots in Nicaragua, the Laguna de Apoyo. Like many places here, there is a volcanic history behind this crater lagoon, and it is today a beautiful area. The water is fantastic; some say its minerals have therapeutic qualities. And there is some great food and boats available at restaurants at points around the shore.
In the recent months, this song takes on some additional meaning. I think about the vulnerability of people in times of unrest, the need for reconciliation in our societies, and the hope of something beautiful, as fragile as it may be, in the process.
Thanks also to our children for their enthusiastic participation in the chorus.
blue on blue
sky, lagoon
my feet resting in the water
rocking in a cradle
of an ancient crater
a floating dock above the deep
a violent past
a forceful blast
turning the land inside out
and in its wake
this quiet space
seems suspended outside of time
and here are we
in between
the dangerous and the serene
a simple man
among the lake and the land
like drops of water in an open hand
telling the tale
marvel at the scale
see here creation’s resurrection
and from the ashes to rise
a divine surprise
life ascending from the deep
and mirrored, I
and all I despise
shadows around and within
bear a judge’s load
or cast no more stones
invited, lifted, in the light
Land of the guardabarranco
Nicaragua is a small country, but as the famous Nicaraguan poet-statesman Rubén Darío said, “Si la patria es pequeña, grande la sueña”: If the homeland is small, one dreams it big. I’ve adapted the phrase in the chorus here – “great is the dream” [of the people]. The more time we spend here, the more we hear about different people groups and different places that would be interesting to explore.
Here’s a song of things we have not done, but would wish to do if it were all possible!
Thanks to the kids again for singing along.
land of the guardabarranco
land of lakes and volcanoes
with so many stories to tell
Nicaragua
y grande es el sueño
let’s take a slow boat out to Ometepe, hike up Concepción
bike riding the island, watch the setting of the sun
go on pilgrimage to Solantiname and while there
take time with the locals’ art and join with them in prayer
float down the Río Coco, learn to sing in Miskito
fly to the Corn Islands, snorkel off the coast
explore the unexplored in rainforest Bosawás
listen to creation, greet the quetzals and macaws
let’s walk and swim the canyon and taste rosquillas in Somotó
look down at the lava of the Masaya volcano
hike into the waterfall Estanzuela in Estelí
watch the turtles hatch along the beach, make their way out to the sea
To find these missing words
I’ve been joking these past several weeks that I’ve forgotten how to hold a normal conversation (optimistically assuming this is a skill I had at some point). In some trauma and stress training activities from the other week, I learned that this is actually one of many potential normal responses to stressful situations. Some of us experience something of thought-cramping in our head and have trouble beginning to unravel it. At the same time, others (my wife) process by thinking out loud, which can make my processing and sharing that much slower. Thanks to Rebekah for her patience with me in this.
sun-stained paper folded in a bottle
floating on the waves
tumbling day after day
a long-forgotten source, a long way from here
and an uncertain end
awaiting a friend
unknown
unheard
what will it take to find these missing words?
like a dream forgotten
that Daniel will tell
a hidden mystery
unveiled
these few written words, perhaps little to say
what will they become?
they may move no one
yet in being found, to emerge to the chance
is a hope tucked inside
captive of the tide
and might my thoughts wash up to your shore?
cannot be sure
and might I be looking for yours
looking for yours?