On a Mission From God

Spending a week south of the border and below the poverty line, I learned that the only thing worth getting up at five in the morning for were some of the most amazing sunrises I’ve ever seen. I learned that in Mexico it’s 80º by eight-o’ clock. And you can guess how hot by noon. I learned that after traveling 1022 miles to get to Mexico, the last town in the US is called Pharr, TX. And that the Rio Grande isn't grand at all.

While on the job site, where we were building a house for four no larger than your garage, I watched little girls play in the dirt with broken dolls and hand made toys and learned that I really have nothing to complain about. Turning sand and rocks and mortar mix for an hour, I learned what a cement mixer feels like. And that I have never felt so sore. I learned that locals in Mexico have, in their yards, chickens, donkeys and cocks that crow incessantly. And that no one on a church trip finds a joke about Peter denying Jesus very funny. (Luke 22:34)

Walking the town with my good friends Carl and Stephen, I learned that when you ask the local girls if they will take a picture with you, they giggle. But that their father doesn’t. I learned that when a Mexican child stands in front of you and says “Do-ri-tos?” and you shrug saying I’m sorry, I don’t know what Do-ri-tos means, he’ll politely smile and longingly point to the bag of chips in your hand. I learned that when you offer candy to a child, eight more will show up from out of nowhere. And together, they will show you what a piñata feels like. Playing soccer with some boys a few streets from the job site, and getting whipped badly, I learned that the kids in Reynosa don’t need a fancy ball and goal to be happy. And that we all laugh in the same language.



At noon every day, we attended a local Mexican church service, where I learned that for me, harder than speaking Spanish correctly, is singing it. And that the Spanish word for Amen is… Amen. One night, we had a chance to shop on the Mexican side of the border, where I learned that the best way to haggle a price is to stare at the vendor like you don’t understand until the number gets low enough, then smile.

Finally, at the end of the week, our church group delivered 1000 new and used shoes. Three pairs donated were mine. I thought to myself, how cool is it that someone in another country would walk a mile in my shoes. Then, I reflected upon how blessed I was that I had the opportunity to walk a week in theirs.