Returning to Piedras Negras yesterday, I had a long time to think. My day started early after a restless night. Tossing and turning in my big comfy bed in my perfectly cooled house, I wrestled with a couple of things which had lain on my heart for weeks and still felt no better about when I finally got up to finish packing for my trip to Mexico. I was groggy and bleary-eyed, emotionally struggling as I often am before one of my trips here, somewhat tearful and yet excited to be finally leaving, looking forward to seeing my team again as well as the beautiful children here with whom I am so in love. I made a concious effort to shelve those heartfelt burdens and instead to open my heart to what lay ahead...
My flight was smooth and uneventful, arriving early in San Antonio and leaving me time to wait for my shuttle at the airport. I was too excited to nap, although I probably should have, and I half-heartedly nibbled at a sandwich and drank a little water while surfing facebook and killing a couple of hours. My shuttle driver arrived promptly at 1:30 and introduced himself to me as Gilbert from Eagle Pass Tours. The 10- passenger van had seen better days. I asked if I could ride up front to keep my motion sickness at bay and he very kindly made room for me, although I think he was a little surprised by my request. I soon realized that we wouldn't be going straight to Eagle Pass; it was a 10-passenger van for a reason. For the next hour and a half we zig-zagged all over San Antonio, picking up passenger after passenger until we were completely full. I was the only gringa in the van. My motion sickness had completely consumed me by this point--the air conditioning barely worked and I huddled in front of my one vent, trying to keep from tossing my cookies. Gilbert entertained me by telling me about his daughter, his peacock farm, his job, his grown son, his separation from his wife and other tidbits of his life. It was a very long, but interesting ride to Eagle Pass.
As we drove the two and a half hours to our destination, I leaned my head against the window and watched the stark, flat Texas landscape pass by mile after mile. Harsh and dusty, the fence-enclosed land is full of scrubby brush and gnarled, low-growing trees. The sky seems higher than usual to a girl accustomed to green rolling hills, and the clouds are like a child's drawing, fluffy white against a robin's egg blue. Occasionally, you see a huge ranch with imposing gates and you can't help but wonder who would choose to live in such a relentlessly hard place. Hot, dry and unforgiving.
We finally arrived and I have never been so happy to get out of a vehicle. I helped a young mom and her three babies disembark and waited with them in some welcome shade on the porch of Eagle Pass Tours. She was also en route to Mexico to meet up with her husband. I couldn't imagine traveling by myself with three little ones (ages 3, 2 and 8 months) and a huge suitcase in tow, but Ruth was very calm and patient. The babies had been perfectly quiet and sweet during the three and a half hours we were crammed in the van. I was amazed. It made me remember traveling with my small children by myself years ago and being so thankful for portable DVD players and kid's music on the CD player to keep them entertained. For goodness sake, we are so unbelievably spoiled in so many ways. God enjoys showing this to me these days, especially when preparing me for these trips.
Tex and Marissa finally arrived to pick me up after having sat for a half hour in line to cross the border into the US. We made a stop at Walmart to load up on groceries and then came across the border without incident. It was awesome to see Katt and Hallie (our interns from last summer) and meet the new interns, Andrew, Shelby, Lizz and her boyfriend Zack. We had a delicious dinner of grilled chicken salad and enjoyed some wonderful fellowship, which is a staple of these Mexico missions. I very gratefully showered off the dust of my travels and fell quickly into a dreamless sleep, thankful for my safe arrival and eagerly anticipating my first full day back in Mexico.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Captured Fireflies; Captured Moments
Sweet summer. Full and ripe and sultry like a basket of juicy peaches just waiting to be eaten, the nectar running down your chin in all its luscious stickiness. No other season takes me back so fully to my childhood as does summer. I treasure the moments as they come and go like the fireflies that appear so fleetingly in my yard at dusk... I wish I could capture them in glass jars, like I did when I was a girl, so sure that I could read by their light in my bedroom in the dark. Captured fireflies; captured moments.
Fresh cut grass. Gardenias. Cantaloupe. Smells of my childhood that always remind me of those long, lazy summers that seemed to last forever... those days when we were out of school from Memorial Day until Labor Day. Lots of time for riding bikes and building tree forts, for going to the beach or the lake and hanging out at the city pool with all your friends. Lots of time to unwind and just be a kid. Wonderful and magical times. It was okay to have sunburned cheeks and tangled hair and dirty bare feet, to stay up way past your bedtime and play hide-and-seek in your backyard and the neighbor's backyard, too. Even the chiggers and the mosquito bites didn't seem to be all that bad. It was worth it just to be able to run and play outside in the hot summer night, fall into bed with the attic fan pulling the night air over you from the open window by your bed and then sleep the sound and deep slumber of childhood.
So far this summer has been pretty wonderful, too. I am so blessed to have this time off and so fortunate to be able to spend time with my children in the summertime. Our trip to Seagrove this year was especially magical in a beautiful beach house with perfect weather, delicious food, and good company. Nothing better on earth than that. Now, I'm looking forward to going back to Mexico and spending some hot summer days with my sweet little amigos, working at our little school in Nava and teaching Bible school in the evenings. God sure has blessed me a lot. I'm quite sure I don't deserve it, but I thank Him for each precious moment, summer or otherwise, that He allows me to have. I do not take them for granted any longer, although I know I once did. Now, He just keeps making me aware of my blessings in new ways everyday, sometimes with a gentle nudge and other times with a strong push. I am reminded lately of James when he tells us that "every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows."
Fresh cut grass. Gardenias. Cantaloupe. Smells of my childhood that always remind me of those long, lazy summers that seemed to last forever... those days when we were out of school from Memorial Day until Labor Day. Lots of time for riding bikes and building tree forts, for going to the beach or the lake and hanging out at the city pool with all your friends. Lots of time to unwind and just be a kid. Wonderful and magical times. It was okay to have sunburned cheeks and tangled hair and dirty bare feet, to stay up way past your bedtime and play hide-and-seek in your backyard and the neighbor's backyard, too. Even the chiggers and the mosquito bites didn't seem to be all that bad. It was worth it just to be able to run and play outside in the hot summer night, fall into bed with the attic fan pulling the night air over you from the open window by your bed and then sleep the sound and deep slumber of childhood.
So far this summer has been pretty wonderful, too. I am so blessed to have this time off and so fortunate to be able to spend time with my children in the summertime. Our trip to Seagrove this year was especially magical in a beautiful beach house with perfect weather, delicious food, and good company. Nothing better on earth than that. Now, I'm looking forward to going back to Mexico and spending some hot summer days with my sweet little amigos, working at our little school in Nava and teaching Bible school in the evenings. God sure has blessed me a lot. I'm quite sure I don't deserve it, but I thank Him for each precious moment, summer or otherwise, that He allows me to have. I do not take them for granted any longer, although I know I once did. Now, He just keeps making me aware of my blessings in new ways everyday, sometimes with a gentle nudge and other times with a strong push. I am reminded lately of James when he tells us that "every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows."
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Blackberry Winter
Feeling a little bit like a stranger in a strange land these days... work finished for the school year, waiting to go to the beach, drinking red wine and sitting on my porch wrapped up in a blanket in May. Feeling a little guilty, too, with time on my hands. I'm not used to having the afternoon and evening stretching out in front of me with nothing I have to do... reminds me of a long, unbroken, unmarred stretch of sand leading down to the water, sun hovering just over the horizon, waiting for that flash of green before it disappears until the next morning. Sigh. There are some things that are just too beautifully simple for words to adequately express.
To go from such a frenetic, haphazard pace to this gentle stillness almost takes my breath away. I'm trying to embrace it, but it does not come easily to me--the slowing down, the intentional seeking of peace and quiet. I'm so accustomed to busy-ness, chaos, drama, chatter--it almost seems surreal to be in my house on a Tuesday afternoon, free to nap on my bed with my pup, or listen to some new music or write or read without interruption. Very strange indeed. But quite lovely in its simplicity.
It's ironic that I am feeling such peacefulness and contentment exactly one year after ending a very tumultuous and stress-filled time of my life. I am reminded of Ecclesiastes 3, especially verses 4 through 7: "... a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak...".
God's time is perfect, even when we don't realize it until we are on the other side of it.
I am so amazed that even when I make bad choices, even when I lose patience, even when I argue with Him, even when I don't love others the way I have been commanded to, the Lord continues to remind me He loves me by bringing people into my life at exactly the right moment, by showing me my blessings through the life and death of a friend, by enriching my relationships with my children, by prospering my business despite bad times. I am grateful and humbled beyond words. I know I don't deserve it, but I appreciate it. It makes me want to go back to Nava and love on those children again.
A couple more days of this blackberry winter, of shivering on my back porch in the midst of May and then seven days of heaven on earth...
"Sea Joy"
Jacqueline Bouvier
When I go down by the sandy shore
I can think of nothing I want more
Than to live by the booming blue sea
As the seagulls flutter round about me
I can run about--when the tide is out
With the wind and the sand and the sea all about
and the seagulls are swirling and diving for fish
Oh--to live by the sea is my only wish.
To go from such a frenetic, haphazard pace to this gentle stillness almost takes my breath away. I'm trying to embrace it, but it does not come easily to me--the slowing down, the intentional seeking of peace and quiet. I'm so accustomed to busy-ness, chaos, drama, chatter--it almost seems surreal to be in my house on a Tuesday afternoon, free to nap on my bed with my pup, or listen to some new music or write or read without interruption. Very strange indeed. But quite lovely in its simplicity.
It's ironic that I am feeling such peacefulness and contentment exactly one year after ending a very tumultuous and stress-filled time of my life. I am reminded of Ecclesiastes 3, especially verses 4 through 7: "... a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak...".
God's time is perfect, even when we don't realize it until we are on the other side of it.
I am so amazed that even when I make bad choices, even when I lose patience, even when I argue with Him, even when I don't love others the way I have been commanded to, the Lord continues to remind me He loves me by bringing people into my life at exactly the right moment, by showing me my blessings through the life and death of a friend, by enriching my relationships with my children, by prospering my business despite bad times. I am grateful and humbled beyond words. I know I don't deserve it, but I appreciate it. It makes me want to go back to Nava and love on those children again.
A couple more days of this blackberry winter, of shivering on my back porch in the midst of May and then seven days of heaven on earth...
"Sea Joy"
Jacqueline Bouvier
When I go down by the sandy shore
I can think of nothing I want more
Than to live by the booming blue sea
As the seagulls flutter round about me
I can run about--when the tide is out
With the wind and the sand and the sea all about
and the seagulls are swirling and diving for fish
Oh--to live by the sea is my only wish.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Full Hearts and Butterflies
My heart is full. Less than a year ago, I would never have believed it possible, but the old adage that time heals is so very true. I would just change the wording a little--God heals through time. The heart that was so broken has become whole again and is able to be filled once more like the vessel it was intended to be. Still fragile and maybe a little flawed, but nevertheless capable of being filled with joy and hope and faith.That is remarkable to me.
I know that these past ten months have been a preparation time for me as well as a time of healing. As I get ready to go back to Mexico, I look back at this time and realize that not only have grown in my spirit, but also in understanding and forgiveness to people who have hurt me. It is very freeing to come to that realization. In some ways, I believe it allows my heart to hold even more joy and compassion. I can allow it to overflow and cover a friend whose own heart is breaking, or be a good listener to someone who is struggling with a difficult decision, or just open my arms and hug a child at dance who values my love and approval. I know that God loves me even more when I share my own once-broken heart with others. He has given me plenty to share and replaces what I share ten-fold or even a hundred-fold.
Lately, I am feeling butterflies again for the first time in years. Maybe it is the first stirrings of spring fever and the anticipation of seeing those precious brown-eyed children again. Maybe it's just recognizing that my life is so full of blessings, big and small. My beautiful children, my cozy albeit cluttered little home, work that I love, parents and sisters who love me, friends who are my chosen family and tell me the truth, special people that God places in my life who help to make me feel hopeful and happy and whole.
As I travel to Nava next weekend, I covet your prayers and your encouragement. A lot of what I see there is heart-rending, but I know this time I am a little bit stronger and a little more prepared. My heart is full and my butterflies are fluttering...
I know that these past ten months have been a preparation time for me as well as a time of healing. As I get ready to go back to Mexico, I look back at this time and realize that not only have grown in my spirit, but also in understanding and forgiveness to people who have hurt me. It is very freeing to come to that realization. In some ways, I believe it allows my heart to hold even more joy and compassion. I can allow it to overflow and cover a friend whose own heart is breaking, or be a good listener to someone who is struggling with a difficult decision, or just open my arms and hug a child at dance who values my love and approval. I know that God loves me even more when I share my own once-broken heart with others. He has given me plenty to share and replaces what I share ten-fold or even a hundred-fold.
Lately, I am feeling butterflies again for the first time in years. Maybe it is the first stirrings of spring fever and the anticipation of seeing those precious brown-eyed children again. Maybe it's just recognizing that my life is so full of blessings, big and small. My beautiful children, my cozy albeit cluttered little home, work that I love, parents and sisters who love me, friends who are my chosen family and tell me the truth, special people that God places in my life who help to make me feel hopeful and happy and whole.
As I travel to Nava next weekend, I covet your prayers and your encouragement. A lot of what I see there is heart-rending, but I know this time I am a little bit stronger and a little more prepared. My heart is full and my butterflies are fluttering...
Sunday, February 6, 2011
The Reluctant Missionary, Part 3
Mark 10: 13-16
"13. And they kept bringing young children to Him that He might touch them, and the disciples were reproving them for it. 14. But when Jesus saw it, He was indignant and pained and said to them, Allow the children to come to Me--do not forbid or prevent or hinder them--for to such belongs the kingdom of God. 15. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive and accept and welcome the kingdom of God like a little child does positively shall not enter it at all. 16. And He took them (the children up one by one) in His arms and fervently invoked a blessing, placing His hands upon them."
Shortly after we returned from New Orleans, our mission team began making plans to go back to Mexico. It had been two years since I had felt the first stirrings in my heart for a mission trip south of the border, and this time I was determined to go. Once again, I began listening to my Spanish CD's and was horrified to discover how much I had forgotten. The language gradually started coming back to me, but I felt like a novice and did not feel confident about it at all. I didn't realize it at the time, but that was the first of many stumbling blocks the enemy was setting up for me as I prayerfully began my preparation for Mexico.
I managed to get my passport renewed and started saving up money for the trip. There was to be about 10 of us going, adults and college students, and we would be driving a large van across country and to Piedras Negras, Mexico, just across the border from Eagle Pass, Texas. "You know you are going to be very car sick the whole time," whispered a little voice in my head. Ok, so I would claim the shotgun position in the front seat and take my Bonine. "You really don't have enough money to do this, you know," the voice whispered again. Ok, Lord, I need several hundred dollars to finish paying for the trip. It's summertime and I have no income. Maybe I shouldn't be going. "Clean out your closet," commanded a different voice. My closet?
I obediently cleaned out my closet and while going through an old purse found $300 cash rolled up in a side pocket. Guess what I owed for my balance for the trip? You got it. $300.
Ok, Lord, I'm going, I'm going! No more arguments from me...
About three weeks before the trip I was out of town with friends at St. George's Island. I was sitting out one night looking at the water and the millions of stars overhead and my phone rang. It was my friend, Randy, our mission team leader with bad news. Almost everyone had dropped out of the trip. All that was left was me, Randy, his son Aaron and a young college girl named Maggie. Our pastor was concerned that it would not be appropriate for just the four of us to take off cross-country. It might be viewed in the wrong light by people in our church and we needed to reconsider. I was heart-broken. Randy promised that he and his wife, Katherine, would work on some other options and he would let me know. Stumbling block!
We began to pray about the trip and asked God to give us direction. Thankfully, we were able to take the money that had been set aside for the van and gas and put it toward plane tickets to San Antonio and a car rental. That alleviated the problem of spending the night on the road and actually gave us two extra days to work in Mexico. Thank you, Lord, for Your provision!
As the date for our departure approached, I had lunch one day with an old friend whom I had not talked to in months. I excitedly told her about my mission trip that was coming up in a couple of weeks. I noticed the expression on her face as I began to describe where we were going and what we were going to do. "You can't go there!" she exclaimed. "Why not?" I asked. "It's too dangerous," she told me, "You need to talk to my sister-in-law, Beth."
Beth is the youngest daughter of my mentor, Judge Robert Walther, with whom I used to attend church. Beth works for the DEA, and most recently, was the agent-in-charge of Arizona and an expert on the drug cartels in Mexico. Apparently, we would be driving straight into a cartel stronghold in North central Mexico. My friend, Lisa called Beth, as promised, and made me listen to her explanations about why we shouldn't be going at this point in time. Beth had even called her counterparts in Houston and El Paso and they agreed that it would be too dangerous. Stumbling block upon stumbling block! Now what?
I immediately called Randy and told him of my conversation with Beth. We had already bought the plane tickets and needed to make a decision. Frankly, I was scared to death, and felt very confused. Why was God allowing all these difficulties to come against us? Weren't we following His bidding? Weren't we attempting to be His hands and feet? I even felt a little angry and frustrated. Ok, God, I'm being obedient and You are not making this easy!
Once again, we turned to prayer and did a little reconnaissance of our own. Randy checked with the mission team coordinator and one of the missionaries who actually lives there as well as his own daughter who frequently travels there. It had been peaceful and the attention was currently on the flooding of the Rio Grande. We had to exercise caution and not be careless as to time of day and place of travel. In other words, use common sense and stick together. Don't go wandering off by yourself at night or in areas known to be dangerous. Same advice you would give to someone going to New York or downtown Atlanta. So, once again it was a go! This time, however, I felt an uneasiness I had not felt before. But I was still determined to go. I believed God wanted me there for a reason; I just didn't know yet what that reason was...
"13. And they kept bringing young children to Him that He might touch them, and the disciples were reproving them for it. 14. But when Jesus saw it, He was indignant and pained and said to them, Allow the children to come to Me--do not forbid or prevent or hinder them--for to such belongs the kingdom of God. 15. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive and accept and welcome the kingdom of God like a little child does positively shall not enter it at all. 16. And He took them (the children up one by one) in His arms and fervently invoked a blessing, placing His hands upon them."
Shortly after we returned from New Orleans, our mission team began making plans to go back to Mexico. It had been two years since I had felt the first stirrings in my heart for a mission trip south of the border, and this time I was determined to go. Once again, I began listening to my Spanish CD's and was horrified to discover how much I had forgotten. The language gradually started coming back to me, but I felt like a novice and did not feel confident about it at all. I didn't realize it at the time, but that was the first of many stumbling blocks the enemy was setting up for me as I prayerfully began my preparation for Mexico.
I managed to get my passport renewed and started saving up money for the trip. There was to be about 10 of us going, adults and college students, and we would be driving a large van across country and to Piedras Negras, Mexico, just across the border from Eagle Pass, Texas. "You know you are going to be very car sick the whole time," whispered a little voice in my head. Ok, so I would claim the shotgun position in the front seat and take my Bonine. "You really don't have enough money to do this, you know," the voice whispered again. Ok, Lord, I need several hundred dollars to finish paying for the trip. It's summertime and I have no income. Maybe I shouldn't be going. "Clean out your closet," commanded a different voice. My closet?
I obediently cleaned out my closet and while going through an old purse found $300 cash rolled up in a side pocket. Guess what I owed for my balance for the trip? You got it. $300.
Ok, Lord, I'm going, I'm going! No more arguments from me...
About three weeks before the trip I was out of town with friends at St. George's Island. I was sitting out one night looking at the water and the millions of stars overhead and my phone rang. It was my friend, Randy, our mission team leader with bad news. Almost everyone had dropped out of the trip. All that was left was me, Randy, his son Aaron and a young college girl named Maggie. Our pastor was concerned that it would not be appropriate for just the four of us to take off cross-country. It might be viewed in the wrong light by people in our church and we needed to reconsider. I was heart-broken. Randy promised that he and his wife, Katherine, would work on some other options and he would let me know. Stumbling block!
We began to pray about the trip and asked God to give us direction. Thankfully, we were able to take the money that had been set aside for the van and gas and put it toward plane tickets to San Antonio and a car rental. That alleviated the problem of spending the night on the road and actually gave us two extra days to work in Mexico. Thank you, Lord, for Your provision!
As the date for our departure approached, I had lunch one day with an old friend whom I had not talked to in months. I excitedly told her about my mission trip that was coming up in a couple of weeks. I noticed the expression on her face as I began to describe where we were going and what we were going to do. "You can't go there!" she exclaimed. "Why not?" I asked. "It's too dangerous," she told me, "You need to talk to my sister-in-law, Beth."
Beth is the youngest daughter of my mentor, Judge Robert Walther, with whom I used to attend church. Beth works for the DEA, and most recently, was the agent-in-charge of Arizona and an expert on the drug cartels in Mexico. Apparently, we would be driving straight into a cartel stronghold in North central Mexico. My friend, Lisa called Beth, as promised, and made me listen to her explanations about why we shouldn't be going at this point in time. Beth had even called her counterparts in Houston and El Paso and they agreed that it would be too dangerous. Stumbling block upon stumbling block! Now what?
I immediately called Randy and told him of my conversation with Beth. We had already bought the plane tickets and needed to make a decision. Frankly, I was scared to death, and felt very confused. Why was God allowing all these difficulties to come against us? Weren't we following His bidding? Weren't we attempting to be His hands and feet? I even felt a little angry and frustrated. Ok, God, I'm being obedient and You are not making this easy!
Once again, we turned to prayer and did a little reconnaissance of our own. Randy checked with the mission team coordinator and one of the missionaries who actually lives there as well as his own daughter who frequently travels there. It had been peaceful and the attention was currently on the flooding of the Rio Grande. We had to exercise caution and not be careless as to time of day and place of travel. In other words, use common sense and stick together. Don't go wandering off by yourself at night or in areas known to be dangerous. Same advice you would give to someone going to New York or downtown Atlanta. So, once again it was a go! This time, however, I felt an uneasiness I had not felt before. But I was still determined to go. I believed God wanted me there for a reason; I just didn't know yet what that reason was...
The Reluctant Missionary, Part 2
Here is an excerpt from my testimony following my first mission trip with Calvary Baptist Church, written summer of 2009:
"After Anna Claire's mission experience in Mexico last year, I had decided that I wanted to go with her this year. I was so excited about working with the children in Piedras Negras and getting to finally use my Spanish minor I had earned at Berry many years ago. I went and bought tapes to refresh my memory and eagerly started practicing my Spanish. I had planned to teach dance there and share whatever gifts I had as a teacher. There is an old Jewish saying that goes something like this: "When Man plans, God laughs." Little did I know what the Lord had in store for me right here in America.
Honestly, Anna Claire and I were both rather ambivalent about going to New Orleans. She was disappointed that none of her very close friends were going and I felt like I didn't know any one very well. We talked about it and prayed about it, and somehow we both felt led to go despite the Mexico trip not working out. The outcome of this, my first mission trip, exceeded every expectation I ever held. It turned out to be one of the most wonderful experiences in my life.
Although I didn't get to share my gifts as a teacher, I found out that I could do quite a number of other things that I never thought of as something to share. For example, I found I could direct a rag-tag cleaning crew of 5 and somehow through the sheetrock dust and the garbage and piles of lumber manage to laugh my head off at their antics. I've never been hotter or filthier in my life, but I have also probably laughed more in one week than in the last 10 years. I learned that the young people of Calvary Baptist Church have a heart for God and I am so proud to have served alongside of them.
Serving as a volunteer in the food pantry was another unexpected blessing for me. During the first two days, we primarily focused on the building of the church there in Chalmette, but volunteering in the food pantry allowed me to put real faces to the stories we've been hearing the last four years since Katrina--people who would love to have jobs and homes and the security of knowing where their next meal was coming from. On Thursday morning, Jim and I met a man outside our bunkhouse. It was 7:20 a.m. and he was waiting by our kitchen door when we walked outside. His name was Guy. He was toothless, blind in one eye, and disabled from a heart condition. He had gotten up very early and walked a mile and a half with his cart to wait for the food pantry to open at 10. Once upon a time, he had a good job and a brand new trailer purchased just before Katrina hit. His wife was a diabetic and crippled and they were living off his disability check. The food pantry was a life line for them. He gratefully accepted our offer of hot coffee and fruit and told us his story. There was just such an attitude of resignation to his demeanor as he waited the two and a half hours to be first in line to receive his food and walk the mile and a half back to his little rented house. It was humbling to say the least. It made us all realize that there are plenty of opportunities for missions right here in our own country.
God has blessed me with a renewed spirit for caring and giving to others which I learned from my team members. The NOLA mission team is an awesome team. I miss my bunkmates and the sharing of meals with everyone and even driving in circles all over the city, despite Tom-Tom's best intentions. The leadership was amazing. Thank you all so much for the opportunity to have shared this adventure with you. I can't wait to see where we go next!"
"After Anna Claire's mission experience in Mexico last year, I had decided that I wanted to go with her this year. I was so excited about working with the children in Piedras Negras and getting to finally use my Spanish minor I had earned at Berry many years ago. I went and bought tapes to refresh my memory and eagerly started practicing my Spanish. I had planned to teach dance there and share whatever gifts I had as a teacher. There is an old Jewish saying that goes something like this: "When Man plans, God laughs." Little did I know what the Lord had in store for me right here in America.
Honestly, Anna Claire and I were both rather ambivalent about going to New Orleans. She was disappointed that none of her very close friends were going and I felt like I didn't know any one very well. We talked about it and prayed about it, and somehow we both felt led to go despite the Mexico trip not working out. The outcome of this, my first mission trip, exceeded every expectation I ever held. It turned out to be one of the most wonderful experiences in my life.
Although I didn't get to share my gifts as a teacher, I found out that I could do quite a number of other things that I never thought of as something to share. For example, I found I could direct a rag-tag cleaning crew of 5 and somehow through the sheetrock dust and the garbage and piles of lumber manage to laugh my head off at their antics. I've never been hotter or filthier in my life, but I have also probably laughed more in one week than in the last 10 years. I learned that the young people of Calvary Baptist Church have a heart for God and I am so proud to have served alongside of them.
Serving as a volunteer in the food pantry was another unexpected blessing for me. During the first two days, we primarily focused on the building of the church there in Chalmette, but volunteering in the food pantry allowed me to put real faces to the stories we've been hearing the last four years since Katrina--people who would love to have jobs and homes and the security of knowing where their next meal was coming from. On Thursday morning, Jim and I met a man outside our bunkhouse. It was 7:20 a.m. and he was waiting by our kitchen door when we walked outside. His name was Guy. He was toothless, blind in one eye, and disabled from a heart condition. He had gotten up very early and walked a mile and a half with his cart to wait for the food pantry to open at 10. Once upon a time, he had a good job and a brand new trailer purchased just before Katrina hit. His wife was a diabetic and crippled and they were living off his disability check. The food pantry was a life line for them. He gratefully accepted our offer of hot coffee and fruit and told us his story. There was just such an attitude of resignation to his demeanor as he waited the two and a half hours to be first in line to receive his food and walk the mile and a half back to his little rented house. It was humbling to say the least. It made us all realize that there are plenty of opportunities for missions right here in our own country.
God has blessed me with a renewed spirit for caring and giving to others which I learned from my team members. The NOLA mission team is an awesome team. I miss my bunkmates and the sharing of meals with everyone and even driving in circles all over the city, despite Tom-Tom's best intentions. The leadership was amazing. Thank you all so much for the opportunity to have shared this adventure with you. I can't wait to see where we go next!"
The Reluctant Missionary, Part 1
I was born with a rebellious spirit. I have a tender, generous heart, but my spirit often digs its heels in with a stubbornness that would shame even the most hard-headed mule. To God's eternal credit, He is quite patient with me in this regard and over the last few years has sought to reign in this spirit of mine with gentleness and encouragement. For this, I praise Him and thank Him.
Several years ago, in the summer of 2008, I drove my daughter to our church to meet with the other youth to load up for a mission trip to Mexico. It was a good size group of teens, college kids and adults, including our pastor, Steve, his wife, Karen and two of their own children. I felt pretty comfortable sending my daughter with them, although I had not bothered to research anything about that particular area of Mexico or the purpose of the mission. It was a hot, summer's morning and we parents stood in a giant circle in the parking lot while Steve said a prayer for safe travels and protection and that the mission would be for God's glory. Something in me began to stir and suddenly I was very disappointed and a little jealous that I wasn't going. The feelings came out of nowhere and once felt, I could not shake them. Then Steve turned to me and said, "Maybe you could go next time. We could certainly use your help since you speak Spanish." I was a little startled not only that my pastor knew I could speak a little Spanish, but that he seemed to have read my mind at that moment and knew I wanted to go... I made up my mind on my way home after tearfully hugging my child good-bye, that I would definitely go the next year.
The months passed and I thought off and on that I needed to get my passport renewed, but never quite got around to it. You see, I had already begun arguing with God that maybe this year wouldn't be the right time after all. I was in a struggling relationship, financially strapped, stressed out, you name it. I had the excuses lined up and laid out for God to see. I had my arguments and my reasons ready. Then news came that there had been an assassination of the police chief in Piedras Negras, Mexico just across the street from the hotel where they had stayed before. Steve made the call that we should postpone our trip and do something stateside instead. I remember breathing a sigh of relief. I wasn't ready for Mexico and now I didn't have to go. See, God, I told You.
The decision was made to go to New Orleans instead and work with a church that had been destroyed by Katrina. My daughter and I debated for several weeks about going. None of her close friends were going this time and it just didn't seem as exotic and exciting as going to Mexico would have been. This would be my first mission trip and I just didn't think I could get that fired up about going to New Orleans. We prayed about it and finally decided to go. It was one of the best decisions I ever made in my life. I didn't realize it then, but God was preparing me for a place called Nava...
Matthew 25: 35-40
"35. For I was hungry and you gave Me food. I was thirsty and you gave Me something to drink. I was a stranger and you brought Me together with yourselves and welcomed and entertained and lodged me. 36. I was naked and you clothed Me. I was sick and you visited Me with help and ministering care. I was in prison and came to see Me. 37. Then the just and upright will answer Him, Lord, when did we see You hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave You something to eat? 38. And when did we see You a stranger and welcomed and entertained You, or naked and clothed You? 39. And when did we see You sick or in prison and came to visit you? 40. And the King will reply to them, Truly I tell you, in so far as you did it for one of the least of these My brethren, you did it for Me."
Several years ago, in the summer of 2008, I drove my daughter to our church to meet with the other youth to load up for a mission trip to Mexico. It was a good size group of teens, college kids and adults, including our pastor, Steve, his wife, Karen and two of their own children. I felt pretty comfortable sending my daughter with them, although I had not bothered to research anything about that particular area of Mexico or the purpose of the mission. It was a hot, summer's morning and we parents stood in a giant circle in the parking lot while Steve said a prayer for safe travels and protection and that the mission would be for God's glory. Something in me began to stir and suddenly I was very disappointed and a little jealous that I wasn't going. The feelings came out of nowhere and once felt, I could not shake them. Then Steve turned to me and said, "Maybe you could go next time. We could certainly use your help since you speak Spanish." I was a little startled not only that my pastor knew I could speak a little Spanish, but that he seemed to have read my mind at that moment and knew I wanted to go... I made up my mind on my way home after tearfully hugging my child good-bye, that I would definitely go the next year.
The months passed and I thought off and on that I needed to get my passport renewed, but never quite got around to it. You see, I had already begun arguing with God that maybe this year wouldn't be the right time after all. I was in a struggling relationship, financially strapped, stressed out, you name it. I had the excuses lined up and laid out for God to see. I had my arguments and my reasons ready. Then news came that there had been an assassination of the police chief in Piedras Negras, Mexico just across the street from the hotel where they had stayed before. Steve made the call that we should postpone our trip and do something stateside instead. I remember breathing a sigh of relief. I wasn't ready for Mexico and now I didn't have to go. See, God, I told You.
The decision was made to go to New Orleans instead and work with a church that had been destroyed by Katrina. My daughter and I debated for several weeks about going. None of her close friends were going this time and it just didn't seem as exotic and exciting as going to Mexico would have been. This would be my first mission trip and I just didn't think I could get that fired up about going to New Orleans. We prayed about it and finally decided to go. It was one of the best decisions I ever made in my life. I didn't realize it then, but God was preparing me for a place called Nava...
Matthew 25: 35-40
"35. For I was hungry and you gave Me food. I was thirsty and you gave Me something to drink. I was a stranger and you brought Me together with yourselves and welcomed and entertained and lodged me. 36. I was naked and you clothed Me. I was sick and you visited Me with help and ministering care. I was in prison and came to see Me. 37. Then the just and upright will answer Him, Lord, when did we see You hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave You something to eat? 38. And when did we see You a stranger and welcomed and entertained You, or naked and clothed You? 39. And when did we see You sick or in prison and came to visit you? 40. And the King will reply to them, Truly I tell you, in so far as you did it for one of the least of these My brethren, you did it for Me."
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