Mother's Day

Today is Mother’s Day.  I spoke with my mom and brother this morning and heard their plan for the day.  I then went to church at the orphanage and at the end we had a party for the mother’s.  We played games, sang, and read poems to them.  As I stood there I started tearing up, missing my mom, wishing I could spend the day with her and my brother, laughing with them, eating with them, enjoying them.  I sat in this sorrow for quite some time as everyone around me laughed and embraced the moments.  Then I looked around and realized that yes, I was away from my mom for mother’s day but at least I have a mom, most of the kids around me didn’t even have a mom... at least as a teenager I had a mom beside me, to take me to school, to ask me about my day, to fix me soup when I was sick, to watch my soccer games, to be proud of me when I got good grades, to take me to the doctor, to  make me dinner at night... these kids don’t have that in their teens... they’re missing out on the tender touch, the soft voice, the loving words that a mom provides...

I then realized that it hurt to be away from my mom and brother for this day and I am not a mom and I especially am  not any of these kid’s mom... but I am one of the closest things that they have to a mom right now.  I’m not perfect and I’m not their real mom and there are lots of them I care for but if I can have some type of an impact, no matter how small it is, to show them the touch, the love, of a mom.  To show to them that role and have some type of an impact on their hearts and lives that a mother has... well if I can do that then it is absolutely worth it to spend the day away from my family, no matter how much I miss them and it hurts.

God Fixes Cars

When I lived in the States one of my worst fears was having car troubles. I would take my car in for all of its check up and pour whatever money needed into it to avoid these awful, frustrating, time consuming, inconvenient occurrences. Since I’ve moved to Mexico it seems that dealing with car troubles is part of my job, could even very reasonably fit into my job description... I have had at least five occurences where the I am out somewhere and the car I am driving will not start at all...

Today I was in the United States in Chula Vista, about 25 minutes from the border, picking up a food donation. When I went to start the car again to leave it wouldn’t start. I tried fiddling with the battery connection which usually helps but that did nothing. Then a couple of the men who were there helped to grind down and tighten the connections. After a couple of attempts we found this wasn’t helping. We then tried to jump the car which was another failed attempt. Throughout all of this I was calm, a bit annoyed at the inconvenience but very cool and collected, knowing there were far worse things that could happen. I eventually talked to Sara and we found someone to come pick me up and we’d leave the van in the US. Just after I’d given directions to the guy who was coming to get me and though, ‘Why not give it one more try’ and sure enough it turned over and started up perfectly! Just then one of the men who’d been helping me to no avail came over and asked me what I did to fix it. I turned to him and very matter-of-factly responded, “I prayed. That’s the only explanation.” Throughout the whole thing I’d been praying, not knowing what was wrong but knowing God was big enough to fix it. Not getting frustrated but remaining thankful that I was safe in the US with caring people when this happened... thanking God and asking if it was his will if he could just let it start so I could get home.

Prayer has truly become my response to problems here. I run into frustrations and problems and issues that back in the US would have ruined my day but now I just turn to God, asking for his help and more often than not he comes through. This was never my response to problems before... but I’ve learned that along with teaching me patience God is using this time to show me that if I just turn to him he can make it all better, if I just believe. And my response to the man who asked me what I did, well in the past I would have considered this to be a crazy answer, of course something physically must have happened... fortunately God has showed me over the past 5 months that that is not always the case... sometimes he just fixes things himself!

God Fixes Cars

When I lived in the States one of my worst fears was having car troubles. I would take my car in for all of its check up and pour whatever money needed into it to avoid these awful, frustrating, time consuming, inconvenient occurrences. Since I’ve moved to Mexico it seems that dealing with car troubles is part of my job, could even very reasonably fit into my job description... I have had at least five occurences where the I am out somewhere and the car I am driving will not start at all...

Today I was in the United States in Chula Vista, about 25 minutes from the border, picking up a food donation. When I went to start the car again to leave it wouldn’t start. I tried fiddling with the battery connection which usually helps but that did nothing. Then a couple of the men who were there helped to grind down and tighten the connections. After a couple of attempts we found this wasn’t helping. We then tried to jump the car which was another failed attempt. Throughout all of this I was calm, a bit annoyed at the inconvenience but very cool and collected, knowing there were far worse things that could happen. I eventually talked to Sara and we found someone to come pick me up and we’d leave the van in the US. Just after I’d given directions to the guy who was coming to get me and though, ‘Why not give it one more try’ and sure enough it turned over and started up perfectly! Just then one of the men who’d been helping me to no avail came over and asked me what I did to fix it. I turned to him and very matter-of-factly responded, “I prayed. That’s the only explanation.” Throughout the whole thing I’d been praying, not knowing what was wrong but knowing God was big enough to fix it. Not getting frustrated but remaining thankful that I was safe in the US with caring people when this happened... thanking God and asking if it was his will if he could just let it start so I could get home.

Prayer has truly become my response to problems here. I run into frustrations and problems and issues that back in the US would have ruined my day but now I just turn to God, asking for his help and more often than not he comes through. This was never my response to problems before... but I’ve learned that along with teaching me patience God is using this time to show me that if I just turn to him he can make it all better, if I just believe. And my response to the man who asked me what I did, well in the past I would have considered this to be a crazy answer, of course something physically must have happened... fortunately God has showed me over the past 5 months that that is not always the case... sometimes he just fixes things himself!

Hope

I sit and hear my kid’s stories often. I listen, I watch their eyes shift from mine to the floor and glaze over, I hear their voice change, I see their faces become serious. I not only hear the pain in their past but I visibly see it in how their demeanor changes and I typically sit there and think to myself, how do they go on? I put myself in their shoes, with their painful past, with all the neglect, abuse, denial, the lack of love... and I think to myself, ‘if it were me, I think I’d give up, I’d quit getting out of bed in the morning or worse...’ I literally cannot fathom how some of them did not take their own lives by this point... their stories are that bad and I mean when all you have is abuse and people not wanting you in your life how do you have any hope? If you’ve never seen any one hope and just experienced hurt then how do you know of it?

Over the past 2 weeks we have had numerous teams of Americans come in on trips. There has been a slight part of me that wonders why are ALL of these people are coming down here. As I’ve talked to some of the members of these groups I have heard them experience the same thing that I experienced on my visits down here in the past, “There is just something different” and it makes you want to keep coming back and clearly groups and people do.

I came across a quote from Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell today that says, “Ultimately our gift to the world around us is hope. Not blind hope that pretends everything is fine and refuses to acknowledge how things are. But the kind of hope that comes from staring pain and suffering right in the eyes and refusing to believe that this is all there is. It is what we all need- hope that comes not from going around suffering but going through it.” And that is just what these kids have; a hope that makes no sense, one that has been with them from the very beginning. A hope that was with them as they were beaten by their mom, raped by their dad, told their weren’t good enough by their adoptive parents, hungry as their dad spent all their money on drugs, lonely as they sat at home alone at 3 AM as their mom prostituted herself... These kids have looked some of the worst pains and suffering in the face and said, “I know there is more than this, I REFUSE to give up” and they’ve kept on marching. That is why groups keep coming back... these kids know a hope that has never pierced our safe suburban homes, with our savings accounts, our complete families, and all the securities we place around us to make sure we’ll always be “alright” protecting ourselves from many pains and sufferings.

The hope they have still makes no sense to me but it is a beautiful light that shines brightly to me through their smiles daily. It is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen... it has God written all over it and I have no doubt that in those moments that pierce my heart and make me cringe that my kids went through that He was right there beside them, never once taking His gaze off of them, never letting them out of His sight... renewing that hope in them each morning and longing one day for them to be safe and walk in His freedom.

Medicine Application or is it Feet Washing?

Most of my life I have been a pretty independent person, ever since I was a little kid I wanted to, and could, do most things on my own and for myself and I only asked for my parent’s help when it was absolutely necessary. I always just wanted to keep up with my brother who was 4.5 years older than me and he didn’t ask my parents to help a whole lot so from the age of 4, when I learned how to ride a two wheel bike by myself, on I didn’t ask for much of anything. The only time I remember really wanting and feeling like I needed my parents was when I was sick. When Mom or Dad would have to stay home with me and they’d make me special food and give me my medicine, I not only wanted them there but I felt like I needed them and I felt so special. When I was fifteen I had shoulder surgery and I remember a couple of days after it my mom went on a trip and I just wanted her home again, I needed her to help me take my medicine and help me get dressed and to put my hair in a ponytail... To this day when I am sick I just want to be taken care of and I miss my parents a lot at these times, there is something special about how a parent takes care of you...

Yesterday a couple of our kids went to the doctor, one had sores on her head and the other had sores/bites all over her body. They each came home with medicine that they needed to apply twice a day. At night, before she showered, one of them came up to me and asked me if I could help her with the medicine and applying it after she showered and quickly the other one asked the same. These are two girls that I am not extremely, extremely close with yet when I came in their room and was looking at the medicine and started helping them they where just glowing and turned to me and said, “You’re like our mom.” I laughed at the thought and yet knew that their was some truth to it... that I may be the closest thing they had had in a while, or ever, to a fully loving and caring and embracing female figure. As I thought about how much I wanted my mom to help me with medicines when I was sick and how I still miss her when I am sick it all started to make sense... they’d probably never had an older female figure care enough to take care of them when they were sick and help them with their medicines. It wasn’t quite washing feet and the Bible never speaks of Jesus applying medicine to the disciples but while I was combing through one girl’s head searching for the sores (something that to me was rather gross and I’d really prefer not to do) I couldn’t help but be aware that what I was doing was much more than just applying medicine. Just like when Jesus washed the disciples feet (John 13:1-17), it had much more meaning than just cleaning feet, I knew this moment and this gesture for them was far greater and spoke far more to their hearts than it looked like on the outside and that their hearts were being touched in a way far larger than I could probably ever know.

What Would You Do

When I was in eighth grade I remember a song coming out, the name was “What Would You Do” by City High, and I loved it. It was a very vivid, very sad song about a guy who used to be friends with a girl who was now a prostitute and asking her why and what happened and then her explaining that it was her only option to feed her child. The man goes on to question her and judge her and she explains how much she hates it and how it makes her want to die and how as a kid she ran away with her sister so her dad couldn’t rape her.

LISTEN HERE:

I came across the song again the other day and got excited because I remembered how much I liked it. As a 13 year old I remember thinking it was very intense, as a kid living in an upper-middle class, quiet suburban town none of these things had ever entered my mind and I didn’t know how to fathom them yet it grasped my soul and my heart broke as I listened to it; I was hooked. Little did I know at that time that 11 years later I would find myself surrounded by this on all sides. That I would walk daily and love deeply kids who had this type of a life. That I’d patiently have to explain the value of trusting someone and work tirelessly at helping a kid learn to trust who had been raped numerous times by three different step fathers and who had to run away to escape. Or that I’d walk alongside someone who is constantly acting up and just can’t seem to behave like a “normal” kid because for first first ten years of her life she’d stay at home alone with her brothers and sisters while her mom prostituted herself and her dad brought home all of his druggie friends. That I’d welcome into our orphanage three young girls who were just all raped by the man who was supposed to be protecting them. The stories don’t end there...

At the age of 13 I didn’t know what to do with this song other than hurt and think about how awful that must be. Today I find myself knee deep in it yet full of hope. I know this crap happens now and I hate watching the effects and pain my kids feel daily as a result of it all. Yet when I am in the courtyard playing with them, or in church or the car listening to them sing to God, I hear a hunger in their voices, one that is from deep down in their souls that only someone who has gone through Hell and seen the Light can sing out from. They hunger and yearn for God and look to Him and depend on Him for everything. They need a Savior more than my safe life has ever felt. What has happened to them continues to pain me, yet when I see Christ’s redemption at work I am reminded that He is in control and has a plan and I am thankful for the opportunity to get to walk alongside some of God’s beloved as He reveals His redemption and love to them.

The Kingdom at the Border

Yesterday I was doing one of my favorites activities in my new found job, sitting in line at the border. I seem to spend a lot of time sitting amongst hundreds of other cars for hours on end waiting to get into the US. I must say that over the last year I have become a much more patient person that before but I definitely still have a long way to go, thus this, waiting in line for hours on end is not fun for me in the least.

Yesterday I was crossing with Cris, one of the ladies who works with me. Our line was moving along and suddenly for about 5 minutes we did not move at all. We soon saw the problem, a woman’s car had broken down in our line thus all of the cars in our line had to get over (and people are not very nice when it comes to letting you over and in front of them). I instantly was annoyed, thinking ‘Why did this have to happen in my line. Come on lady, move your car!’ As I annoyingly tried to move to the other line Cris turned to me and said, “Oh poor lady.” To which I again thought, ‘Poor lady! Poor us! This is so inconvenient for us and its all her fault.’ As we got over and pulled up alongside her Cris said “I am going to talk to her” and she beckoned her to the car. They spoke in Spanish so I didn’t really know what was being said until I saw the lady start to cry and Cris give her a hug. Cris then told me she was going to get out and help her for a minute and would catch up with me. About 5 minutes later she returned to the car and told me about how the lady’s car needed to be jumped but she didn’t have money or a way and just kept telling Cris what a screw up she was and how she could never do anything right...

My response when I first saw her reasserted to her that she was a screw up but Cris was willing to look beyond our agenda and schedule and see a lady in need not only or a jump for her car but of truth being spoken into her and of love. I have no doubt that Cris was an angel to her and that spoke to her and her heart, that she is worthy and good and so much more than just a screw up.

I so often get caught up in only my life and agenda and miss those opportunities to be the Kingdom. I am the Kingdom when I want to be, when I put it into my schedule... this isn’t how it works, this isn’t have God calls us to walk. I am thankful I am constantly surrounded by people who get the Kingdom better than me so I can be reminded of who and what it is that God calls us to be.