Several years ago we visited an ancient Mayan complex in the Yucatan jungle of Mexico called Chichen Itza. I wanted to visit this site since I was a small boy. I finally did as a man, although the boy is still in me. We visited the pyramids, the planetarium, the sports arena, and miscellaneous other structures. I regret that I didn’t purchase the handful of small towels that grandma was holding. I knew they were inexpensive and she probably could have used the money, plus it would have given her the satisfaction of selling her wares.
In addition, we viewed many types of colorful clothing, beautiful pottery and assorted trinkets-all made by the local Mayan people. As I revisited some photographs, the people stood out as much as the ancient structures we witnessed on that overcast day. I began to recognize the faces I viewed were direct ancestors of the people who created these magnificent and sophisticated complexes. Along with their keen astronomical abilities, their advanced farming techniques, along with the death rituals made to their Gods, this civilization almost vanished. However, the Mayan people and their culture still exist, but without those gruesome rituals!
From the old to the young, a story lies within each person’s heart and is displayed upon their face. What will these children’s stories be like as they grow old? Only God truly knows. Have you ever thought about your own story? If you are reading this and don’t like it, there is still time to change course and alter your story so it has a better ending. I wish you well.