Encounter at an Intersection

While walking through the Zapotec pueblo of Güilá and visiting the people, a whole new perspective and understanding of the culture has been opened to me. The most amazing encounters have taken place when I have gone with my friends from the fledgling church to visit others with whom they have already built connections. The trust they have already built is somehow transferred to me as I am introduced as a friend and missionary, and the platform is set to speak into their lives.

This last Tuesday Lidia and I stopped at a house on the corner of an intersection right before taking our taxi to San Felipe for the youth service. We were invited in and offered a very typical drink, a coke. Inside I discovered a very superstitious household, a young lady hungry to know more of Christ, and parents who were willing to follow whatever religion that provided physical relief to their ailments. They had attempted the traditional witchcraft, gone to the witchdoctors, used tarot cards, but found no relief. Demonic activity was taken for granted as a reality; the older man had even woken up feeling like a spirit was choking him.

They wanted me to place my hand on the areas where they were in pain and say a prayer to cure them, but I knew their ailments went far deeper and were far more serious then their physical pain. So, I began to explain the reality of their spiritual condition, their sin which has caused their separation from a holy and just God. The battle ensued. They wanted to focus on their pain, and I longed for them to see the truth of their spiritual state. They heard the gospel and I pray began to understand, and seeds were planted.

Much of what we do is planting seeds. The harvest will come, but the reaping may be done by another. It is beautiful to be given the opportunity and have the ability to share this saving truth. It is also beautiful to walk alongside those such as Lidia, investing in them, watching them grow and also learning from them. I often feel that I’m learning much more than I am actually giving, and I am humbled. I pray that she and others I am investing my time to build up will someday see a greater harvest take place than ever would have been possible through my own efforts.

Treasure the Moments

Those precious moments, pass by like the second hands on a clock ticking away, unaware, unnoticed. What beautiful treasures they could hold if we invested ourselves, stopped and valued one another. Those little annoyances add up, consuming thoughts of bitter frustration take over. Issues like unwashed dishes somehow appear as a major offense; inconveniences become major grievances. But what if they did not? What if we saw the good, the beautiful, those qualities worthy of praise, and we allowed these moments we are granted to flourish and grow as a lush garden? But then this type of fruit perhaps cannot be inspired of our own initiative and will power. However much I’ve tried to get beyond those silly issues, my mind reverts to the dirty dishes… One life I’ve been given, only this moment I am promised, and yet instead of enjoying each minute, I would rather fume over my roommates’ chore habits.

I recently began meeting with my roommate and another friend Monday afternoon. Out of a mutual desire for “more” we decided to fast through the day, come together for a time of devotion, prayer and enjoy a meal together. Today we enjoyed a beautiful time of fellowship and I knew God was speaking to me through the passage my friend brought to share. But beyond this planned time something beautiful took place, not something unusual or even uncommon, but why not recognize beauty when it is present? After our friend was gone and the cookies were baked, Bania and I randomly sat to talk and began “filosafando” or philosophizing as she called it about life, our purpose, how to analyze and understand well our relationships in order to live rightly and in true love devoid of self-centered, deceptive attachments.

She said a couple things that really stuck with me during this important interruption in the regularly scheduled program. She wondered if perhaps this beautiful conversation came up because we had a time of prayer and devotion together today. Her other comment took me off guard. She said that God must really have something very special planned for her that He is preparing her for that He would allow me to be her roommate. Now that is a guilt trip! I couldn’t help but laugh and tell her she had things a little mixed up, but somehow she was convinced.

Let’s not let this gift we’ve have been given called today pass us by! Let’s live it to the full by loving those around us. In my case, only the miraculous work of the Holy Spirit is able to produce the fruit to get me beyond those silly obstacles that so easily come between myself and those I care for. Let’s take the time in the Word, in fasting and prayer in God’s presence for love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control to become realities that He lives through us in our everyday lives and conversations. And the peace of God which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Imperishable Inheritance

The Zapotec church together in San Felipe Güilá

I wish you could join me on a trip to Güilá and experience the culture, the realities of life, and also the amazing ways God is moving here.  Yesterday I took off after church with my two friends Fanny and Marthita.  We hopped onto a bus to one of the main intersections in town where we waited for a group taxi that would take us to Güilá.  Since taxis out to this town are scarce on Sundays, we waved down one going part way to Tlacolula, a pueblo known for their tasty bread, and Marthita and I crammed into the front passenger seat together.  In Tlacolula we waited in the hot sun for our taxi to go by, but so were many others, so when one finally came we decided I would push through the crowds to try to make it to the church on time.  Like always the taxi driver asked me specifically where I’m planning to go since he really doesn’t believe that this white girl plans to go to Güilá.  After confirming that yes I really am going to Güilá, I took off in the taxi with a group of Zapotec men on the last leg of my trip.

At one point the taxi stopped in a narrow area of the road with hills on either side and began to back up.  With other taxis speeding by I couldn’t figure out what could possibly be important enough that we would pause our trip.  Since the men were all speaking in Zapoteco and my friend Martha was not present to translate, I was even more miffed by the situation.  The man next to me finally told me, “conejo” or rabbit, as if that would clear my mind of all confusion on the matter.  One of the men left the vehicle, dodging the passing traffic and came back holding a dead rabbit by its back feet.  Apparently he had spotted the road kill on the way and decided it would make a tasty dinner.

Upon arriving at the church in Güilá, I met up with my friends and the pastor in her home, and we later began the service like usual behind schedule, which was good since people were still straggling in a half hour later.  After the pastor shared, she asked me to come up and I preached a short, unplanned devotion on the same topic the pastor spoke on, conveying the beauty and importance of  having a hunger for the Word of God.  After enjoying a yummy treat, arroz con leche that we were given, we took off for San Felipe, a neighboring rancho where we were also going to have a church service.  I lead and impromptu worship time and met with some of the young adults.

God has been placing a burden on my heart for the young people of this pueblo, so please pray with me that He would open the doors even this week to begin to reach the Zapotec youth of Güilá.

The newer youth went around and told me their names, Marcos, Blanca and finally after joking around saying his name was unknown, the last one said he was Pablo.  Then it hit me, this was Pablo!  The same 15 year old Pablo that had timidly raised his hand to accept Christ a few months back, and I had gone up to where he sat and prayed with him.  The same Pablo who had smiled so big after we prayed and told me, “I feel different.”  Wilfrido, another 16 year old who is becoming a dedicated leader in the church, told me that Pablo’s parents do not allow him to come to church.  Pablo’s father told him that if he continued going, He would kick him out and disown him from his inheritance, his portion of his family’s land.  And yet there he sat, soaking in the worship and hearing God’s Word against his family’s orders.

This morning I read, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!  In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade – kept in heaven for you” (1 Peter 1:3-4).  He is our inheritance, and no land or earthy treasure could ever compare.  How precious it is to live for that which with never perish, spoil or fade!

Waves

 

The sun’s rays reflected off the turquoise waves which I heard surging, roaring, then gently flowing across the white sand.  The powerful water crashed and sprayed across the rocks, which stood firmly grounded, unmoving in spite of the continual battle.  The tropical palms and sandy beaches gave a tranquil, relaxing look to this little cove in Puerto Escondido, Mexico, but it was the waves that held my attention.

 

I watched as one man attempted to confront the power of this force of nature.  Only a few yards from the shore he waited, crouching low, taunting the rushing water to overpower him.  Sure enough the smallest of waves made impact and he rolled beneath the churning waters.

 

Farther down the shore another type of creature took on the challenge of the waves.  A flock of sea birds peacefully floated above the waves.  The waters rose and fell, forming a blue-green wall which rolled over into a white mass of foaming currents.  Even so, in the height of the strongest waves, the sea birds gently dipped their graceful necks below the water and rose above the wave, unscathed, without even their feathers unruffled.

 

I marveled at the stark difference.  Then I wondered, how do I respond to the waves in my life, the unsettling disappointments, unfulfilled expectations, hurtful confrontations, direct insults, or even simply undesired waiting?  Waves do come, but our response determines the outcome.  Some attempt standing firm in their own power, are knocked down and run from the attack; others accept the challenges for what they are, an opportunity to grow and learn to depend upon the One who created the oceans and formed the land upon the waters, and yet holds His children in the palm of His hand.  He is the one who has placed you and I exactly where we are, and He will sustain and teach us exactly what it is He intends, producing beauty, the reflection of His character in us as we turn to Him in the midst of the storm.

Simplicity

Our weekly team meetings today brought us to the topic of “simplicity,” as we study Richard Foster’s book Celebration of Discipline.  Though in our American, fast-paced, goal-oriented, materialistic society we may be able to define this word, living out this concept is a whole other ball game.  In reality we know very little of simplicity; our environment has conditioned us to long for more, our nature drives us to gain and accomplishment.

What a stark contrast I have seen between my own habits and expectations and those of this culture as I’ve continued adapting to another life.  Things I have always expected that I must have, I’ve come to realize are often seen as luxuries, excess, even extravagance by others.  And yet stripping my life of every convenience is not the answer either.  Contentment with godliness is great gain.  It is this driving desire for more, lack of contentment that plagues us, whether we have much or little.  Consider the lilies of the valley for they neither toil nor spin, but not even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed as one of these.  My God provides all I need; why should I worry?

What after all truly matters?  Though this is a deep philosophical question, it is also the most practical of questions.  May I refuse to hold to a belief without living out the conclusions of that affirmation.  In my life in the States, I ran from one event to another, work, ministry, study, degrees, then back to work and more ministry.  I learned to eat fast, for that time can be used to pursue some accomplishment.  Perhaps at times there is a place for this, but perhaps as well there is a better way.  In Mexico this goal-oriented, drive for achievement is exchanged for a relationship-oriented drive for simply being with one another.  Presence is seen as more important than accomplishment.  I have noticed that I still eat at least twice as fast as my Oaxacan friends, and though I’ve become aware of this and even try to change, it is the result of years of conditioning.  If something so simple is such a challenge, how much more to develop an inner quiet and to enjoy the simple satisfaction of “being” with others without concern for the next event?

One of my leaders and missionary mentors here Mike Hadinger pointed out two areas of caution and concern when considering our own busyness and distraction.  The first is the concern of loosing time truly being with the people that really matter in our lives.  The second is the worry of missing those divine encounters God would wish to send our way as we see every interruption as an intrusion in our plans.  Simplicity, I long to simplify my life to live for what truly matters, loving Jesus first of all and loving others with abandon.

Festival de las Etnias

Zapotec Ladies in their everyday attire and me trying to blend in with my Mixteco outfit.

We recently celebrated the annual ethnic festival with indigenous pastors from around the state of Oaxaca.  I felt like I was joining in a family reunion as I welcomed fellow brothers and sisters in the faith who I know and have worked with from all corners of the state.  I felt overwhelmed, amazed and blessed that God has given me the opportunity to invest in so many people and even different ethnic groups here.  My friends, Lidia from the Zapotecs of Güilá, Francisco from the Mixteca, Isidro from the Chatino Group from the coast, Nery from the Mazateca… and so many others joined together with their churches in Nochixtlan, which has also become another “home” church for me when I travel to this town to teach weekend Bible classes.  My friends from CAMAD studying to be missionaries were also present providing their support.

How beautiful it is when the brethren join together in unity!  God´s presence touched us during those meetings in such a beautiful way.  During one meeting, the Oaxacan missions director Gabriel, another precious friend who has pulled me into the Mexican family here, preached and reminded us of our purpose to honor and glorify God so that one day those from every nation, tribe and language will come together and praise His name.  He called everyone forward and encouraged us to praise the Lord in our own languages, and during that little taste of heaven I remembered, I remembered the purpose for which He called me here, to this place, for this time.  I am here for that day, and am so excited to live this day to the full, to love Jesus, love His servants and be a part of this family.  It is incredible beyond words to be in His will!

Precious Gifts in Unexpected Moments

While pushing your plow through mounds of earth with the scorching sun on your face, eyes placed on the next step before you, it seems that very often you do not see impact left behind.  Right now I feel overwhelmed, confused by the grace of God that He would so use me in moments in which I at times am so unaware.

Just today a new friend left for his home in Tabasco, Mexico and left an unexpected gift, a journal, a very nice cell phone and a note expressing his appreciation for my service and example here working as a missionary.  I met Koki just a few weeks back when he was serving as a clown during a kids’ outreach and only hung out a few times in groups of friends and my roommate’s family.  How could I have possibly left such an imprint that would lead to such a gift?  Once again I am overwhelmed by the generosity of many in this culture, a generosity that is mostly unheard of back home, and I am more than a bit overcome with how God chooses to touch people when we are just ourselves, unaware even of  “ministry” that is happening.

Two days ago I received an unexpected text from a young lady I met in Güilá, the Zapotec town where I’ve been assisting at times.  Her marriage is on shaky ground, and she’s reached a breaking point.  She expressed that she knew I was a friend who cared who she could reach out to for advice.  Thus my confusion; I’ve only talked with Flor one time, had one good conversation about the gospel, one day at her home and later in the church service.  How could I have possibly made such an indelible mark that she would reach out to me in her time of need?  How could she possibly have sensed my love to the point that she would consider me a close friend after one day?  Once again I am overwhelmed by how God works in such unexpected ways.

I remember one little fifth grade boy that showed up to the school early before anyone else the morning I was flying out of Bolivia.  That class had been my favorite of all the grades I had taught that summer, first through high school.  They heard the message I shared.  Not only did I teach English, but I was able to talk about God’s mission, the gospel, our purpose in life, and somehow those little fifth graders caught what I said.  Each day those precious kids would each kiss me on the cheek on their way out of class.  I had no idea that one little boy was so touched that he told me that morning as I was leaving that God had called him to be a missionary.  This little 10 year old recognized God’s call, thanked me for being his teacher and gave me an adorable little teddy bear asking that I remember him.

Gifts, gifts so precious they will last for eternity.  Those are the gifts, the jewels, the fruit we are often unaware of, but in unguarded, unexpected moments sometimes God allows us to see them.  Gifts, precious people that are changed

by the touch of God’s love through a human vessel.  That they would give back to me when I did nothing intentional is more than I can take in.  I am blessed.

 

 

As I Walk Through the Valley

I remember one winter my family was snowed in for a week, trapped by thick logs across the drive way and heavy snow and ice.  The electricity was cut off, so we warmed all our food over the wood fireplace and hauled in water from the hot tub for toilets and some bathing.  Talk about a practical, hands-on missionary training experience!

After close to a week in these conditions I was able to call a friend who met me at the end of the road over half a mile away.  Oddly enough, the rest of town was functioning as normal; only our area was still living in the stone-age.  At times I’ve wondered why it seems that I’ve been singled out for these rare challenges, but then it has all been preparation for this work.  It no longer seems strange as it did then to cook food over a wood fire or to dump water, warmed by the fire over my head to bathe, though I’ve since learned much easier ways to go about these tasks and discovered that much of the world lives their every-day life in these conditions.

Since her vehicle couldn’t yet make it down our ice covered, back country road, my friend dropped me off at the turn to my street, and I walk home…  Night had fallen, and the darkness appeared even thicker under the forest trees down the gravel road rightly named “Inwood.”  The forest was still, though I knew the wood animals were present, deer, coyotes and even cougars had been spotted near by.  I don’t remember ever hiking so far on such a slick, icy, uneven trail.  My trusty flashlight became an essential tool in order to place each step in front of me without falling.  I would be lying to say I didn’t feel some measure of concern or fear as I slowly made my way in the dark.  At the same time I felt God’s presence, His Spirit teaching me to depend on Him, remembrances of other dark roads I’d walked down alone and even times I’d been lost in New York, D.C., Bolivia…  His presence, guidance and protection always covered me and will continue to do so.

This life is full of many journeys, twists and turns; at times the way is clearly paved, and at other times ice and boulders fill the path or darkness threatens to lead us off course.  Some of us, myself included, like to plan, see what is ahead and pursue that destination, but there are times we cannot see what is to come and we are forced to carefully place one step at a time.  Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet.  This precious Word we have been given is a guide, more powerful and effective than the strongest spot light we could shine ahead.  It is during those times when we find ourselves in the darkest valleys and when we don’t “feel” His presence that we learn to depend entirely upon our Savior to deliver us.

Mission Oaxaca

A Change of Focus

Close observation is the missionary’s first key to cross cultural adaptation.  To delve in and understand a culture, nothing can take the place of time taken carefully observing.  Unfortunately, no one who has crossed cultural boundaries has survived without a few blunders and sometimes humorous and often uncomfortable misunderstandings.

Last month I spent a week with an indigenous Mazatec community in northern Oaxaca, sleeping on hard church benches and eating more tortillas and mountain grown coffee than I thought possible in one week.  Each day we hiked through the mountain trails to visit homes and enjoy more mountain coffee at each stop.  I noticed that before we sat down to visit, the chairs were neatly placed in a row facing one direction, so I conveniently rearranged my seat to form more of a circle and face my hosts as we talked, thinking nothing of this.

During the Wednesday evening church service I was given the opportunity to preach.  While I shared I felt more and more discouraged by the obvious lack of response and apparent uncaring as they all gazed toward the ground.  I attempted to gain their attention by speaking more energetically and walking back and forth, but nothing I did captivated their attention.  In spite of this I was surprised that many responded at the end seeking God in prayer.  While I still felt disheartened, I was also glad though a bit confused over the response.

Later on we visited another home, and once again I repositioned my chair to be able to face the pastor’s brother and look him in the eye as we talked.  Then my observation skills finally kicked in, and I noticed his wife giving me a strange look.  Finally I got it.  The adults in this culture have very little eye contact when they converse.  Even two men will sit side by side and barely glance at each other during a conversation.  I quickly averted my gaze to the ground.

Taking this humorous little lesson to another level, how easy it can be to strive for esteem in the eyes of men.  All of us to an extent yearn for approval.  Yet as cross-cultural servants, we are often misunderstood, and we often misunderstand.  Barriers and resentment can easily begin to grow when the focus of our gaze is out of place.  What is the core motivation and resolute impetus that drives us to continue on in the face of challenges?  Though a desire to reach the lost is necessary, people will always disappoint, and passion wanes.  The direction of our focus and gaze cannot be upon people or we will become disillusioned.  Only when our gaze is wholly placed upon our Lord and Savior, enraptured with His beauty, yearning only to please Him, will we have clear sight and staying power to overcome every challenge.