i've returned from a week in monterrey, mexico. our little mission team accomplished a lot. all said and done, we saw 530 people, and gave out over 700 pairs of glasses. we did children's ministry with 25ish kids, and shared over 125 coloring sheets, and 3 different crafts. i wanted to blog while i was down there, but the lack of reliable internet connectivity and my complete exhaustion that set in by 8 PM was enough to limit me to sparse facebook status updates.
but, i can't deny the fact that some big shifts happened while i was down there. i experienced God, and i felt myself diminish daily. the long, hazy afternoons where the sun sank behind the mountains, illuminating the dusty air in a soft yellow glaze, were like a childhood i'd never had - sitting on the dirty concrete, shouting and jesting witha tight circle of 15 kids as we threw down our uno cards, knees to knees and elbows to elbows, the older ones coaching the younger, amused moms and toddlers looking on - it gave me glimpses of heaven. of a place where those children didn't live in fear of drive-bys and floods, where those moms were liberated from the oppression and suffering of a chauvanistic culture and where Jesus would most certainly reside.
i already know that the optical clinic was a place that showed what true christianity is all about. i already know that by giving the glasses and bibles and prayers and gospel message, Jesus's nature was revealed. but what i wasn't prepared for was how tangibly, physically even, i felt Christ as I set up tiny wooden tables and chairs outside, and waited for the kids to come creeping out of their homes.
it may sound silly, but the coloring and crafts, uno and sidewalk chalk, all served a purpose. it conveyed 2 messages: 1 - that some rich white people actually care, and want to bring a smile to your face because they love Jesus and want to give that love to you. and 2 - you are worth it. every kid is worth it. every last one deserves to be included, to be loved, to be given extra coloring sheets, to win a game of hopscotch.
i also wasn't prepared for how my long afternoons outside would affect me.
i later thought about it like this: lets say that life offers different shaped boxes that we can squeeze our hearts (spirits, souls, essence, whatever you'd like to call it) into. the life i've been living here in america, in des moines, has been a box of a certain shape. i could basically fit my heart into this box, but it took some squeezing, some adjusting, some pushing, and straining to make it fit. but when i was down there, i was presented with a different shape to put my heart into. working 12 hour days, unable to speak the language, but lovinglovingloving til my head hurt - i was wiped out, but the shape of that experience allowed my heart to sink perfectly inside, to dwell and feel a complete peace and contentedness.
time slowed in mexico. our meals were an hour minimum. our watches were abandoned, our calendars went unchecked. there was no cellphone buzzing in my pocket. no headaches from staring too long at a computer screen. no tasks that needed completing. nowhere else i had to be. to be wholly present in a moment, in a place like that, is divine. we had many pretexts, but in the end, i feel our purpose was to build relationships: with the local church, with the patients that came for glasses, with the kids, with one another. by building up the people around us, by expressions and gestures that conveyed love, by the pure time we devoted to the people, i know our faith was shown to be true.
and we also walked away with a greater understanding of the Body of Christ, and with some incredible, lifelong friends.
