They heard Him/Mexico Report

I got back from Queretaro, Mexico three weeks ago. It was by no means a trip for beach-lounging or pina colada-drinking, though the first would have been accepted with open arms had I been anywhere near the coast. It was a soul-searching journey.

After spending the short week there, I now feel I can look at the news and form a somewhat more credible opinion than I could before ever being there, not to mention a much stronger connection. I saw a couple stories on cnn regarding Mexico and the news did what it usually does best: devastates.

http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/world/2011/04/08/mexico.mass.graves.cnn?iref=allsearch

http://www.cnn.com/2011/WORLD/americas/04/14/mexico.mass.graves/index.html?iref=allsearch

In seeing things like this, especially after having been there, the tendency to feel hopeless is incredible strong. Living in Corvallis, OR does not seem the ideal living situation when there is a cause calling my name thousands of miles to the center of Mexico. It breaks my heart that an unstable economy and political unrest are the underlying causes of so much violence and disaster. From what I saw with my own eyes, the Mexican people are not at all like the criminals constantly portrayed in the news. This is what I got to experience...


The fact that spring break was only a week long and therefore an extremely short experience had little influence on how much of my soul I actually discovered there. It was beautiful. The plan was to travel to the casa of very old family friends who moved to Mexico as missionaries over ten years ago. They currently reside three hours away from one of the world's most dangerous cities (that is la Ciudad de Mexico) and oversee three different churches in the country. The church in Queretaro (a gorgeous colonial town) is now where they live and are having the greatest impact. The very first morning I woke up to the strongest sun beaming through the window. Sunday: time for church. Spanish worship commenced, my friend Cassidy leading like a freakin' rock star, and everyone-- I mean three year-olds and 70 year-olds and everyone in between- - was on their feet dancing with their hands raised to the heavens. God had my heart in his powerful grip from the first song. It was the truest feeling of humility I've experienced in a long time. It was as if the distance my praises and worship usually have to travel from me to God was eliminated. If that makes any sense... at all. Singing in Spanish manifested a whole new element as well; something about not singing the song perfe ctly humbled me in His presence even more. For the rest of the week I spent time with the American missionary family, got to know them and their ministry well. They inspired me more than anyone has in the last four years. In a country where times are very rough (as the saying goes: "When the US sneezes, Mexico catches a cold") and it is dangerous for someone to walk on his/her own at all in certain states, my friends are seemingly fearless. The two daughters evangelize to everyone they come into contact with (in their perfect Spanish of course), hold separate secular jobs to compensate for a missionary's salary, teach Sunday school, lead powerful worship and even give Sunday morning sermons every we ek. They are building up Mexican disciples who in turn go on to build their own churches. People are getting saved by the dozens weekly. They are fearless because they are p lanted in the Lord's purpose for them, so overwhelming satisfied with the work God has given them in a place they once did not consider home. Now they can't imagine leaving Mexico. I learned many things during my time there, the most significant being that I must keep my eyes and ears open for when God is ready to reveal my life's ministry. It may not be in international missions- though I would definitely not complain if that be the case- or in pastoral horizons, but I know it will be important for the ultimate Christian goal of every knee bowed and every tongue confessed. I know the calling may not come overnight (though it did for these people) but probably in a sequence of blessings and signs revealed to me over time... at least that's the way God has worked in my life thus far. I also learned of a very interesting lifestyle, which is that of the missionary and the missionary's kids. These people are not constantly covered head to toe, nor do they end every sentence with "Praise God." They are real people: personable and content and ready to spend time with anyone who wants to spend time with them. I love them so dearly, and am so blessed to have their email address. They assured me all I have to do is send an email a day in advance next time I plan on visiting them in Queretaro, and there will be a next time. As a result of my journey, I came to realize something... There's been a disturbance in the belief system I strongly cling to. It's not recent, in fact I think it has been around much longer than I've been alive, but it's just now starting to bother me. I'm getting really agitated with it. Not necessarily with the people who are doing it but with the concept itself. This concept is tolerance. My tolerant brothers and sisters in Christ, as well as myself since I have become quite a tolerant individual, have the best intentions, and I don't want to come off as a self-righteous, finger-pointing sonofagun with a wrinkled forehead. I don't. But honestly, isn't it better to be that than a confused, semi-heated church-goer who somewhat resembles, if you squint your eyes and tilt your head just so, one of those people who are living with a God-given purpose? I suppose I'm putting myself at risk of hypocrisy because I'm not classified as the gospel-preaching, incredibly well-versed Christian gal with the purest intentions. What I am getting at here has little do with the actions of others and more to do with my individual mentality that we were not made to attend church, go home, create a few "God is great" facebook statuses and call it good. I no longer believe that to be okay for myself or anyone who claims to be living for God and fulfilling spiritual purpose. Either you are or you're not. Either God's purpose is being revealed through my life, or it's not. I realized most of this as I roamed the streets of downtown Queretaro (one of the few safe cities left in Mexico) smelling cultural uniqueness and tasting the potential of a revival, a revolution of sorts, stemming from a family's decision to obey God's command.