Two weeks down. It has been a bit crazy. On one hand, there are definitely things about Mexico that I still can’t get used to. As you know, Michael time runs about 10 minutes behind the rest of the world. However, I have discovered that Mexico time is about 20 minutes behind Michael time. It’s been a bit of a novel experience being among the first to show up to meetings, and to be riding in a car along the long pothole that passes for a road and see someone walking and very nearly keeping pace. Things are more spontaneous here. Last week after class had ended, I was wandering around looking for something to do and heard the sound of music. I wandered in to the worship hall, where several instrumentalists were practicing for a prayer breakfast with local pastors the following day. They asked me if I would care to join them. So, after 45 minutes of practice for Spanish worship songs for which there was no music and no chord sheets, I was a member of the band. And, probably the most critical, I still have to go on the occasional fishing expedition after forgetting that Mexican toilet paper goes in the trash can, not the toilet.
On the other hand, it seems like I’ve been here almost forever. This week, we started with the pattern that will continue for the rest of the DTS: a speaker addresses a particular topic in the morning, and in the afternoon, we do a practicum with some aspect of arts. Last week, the respective themes were the “Father Heart of God” and photography. It was a good week, although a bit intense. YWAM is big into practice, not theory, and as one who in general doesn’t have a practical bone in my body, I think that the change of pace has been good. When we talk about things like the Father Heart of God, it’s all about what this means for us: what does it mean to be forgiven? What does it mean to forgive? How does it change the way that we see others? It’s been good for me to have the chance to think about these things on a personal and not just theoretical level.
If last week’s theme was surprises, this week’s would probably been humility. It’s been frustrating at times, realizing that I don’t know anything about taking a good picture, feeling like my Spanish has if anything been getting worse, not knowing what was happening or going to happen. On Monday night, we had our debriefing on India. Everything that they said did not really make me more enthusiastic about the prospect of going. We saw countless pictures of streets so crowded that any movement against the flow of traffic was impossible; families digging through garbage heaps hoping to make 75 cents a day; children bathing in the same river where bodies were dumped; babies left to die outside the temple of Kali, the goddess of death. JP, one of the DTS leaders, turned to us afterwards, and said (with his very strong Swiss French accent), “So, awesome, huh?” As I’m sure all of you know, I would be much more comfortable on the top of a mountain with my Greek New Testament, a lexicon, and perhaps a commentary or two. The thought of going to be surrounded by 20 million people in cities without working sewer or drainage system is a bit frightening. I know that there is a need there, an immense need; but I feel that I am inadequate to address that need.
This Friday, as with every Friday, we went down to the Bajío, the Red Light district in Ensenada, to pass out soup and hot chocolate. I went on a prayer walk around the neighborhood with Nolan, one of the other DTS students. Afterwards, I went and started talking with one of the men who was there. I don’t remember exactly how we got to this point in the conversation, but at one point, he said something to the effect of “You’re a bad person, because you don’t really want to be here.” It cut me a bit, because he was right. If I’d had a choice, I wouldn’t have been there right then. I didn’t know what to do, every attempt I made to say something encouraging seemed to backfire, I didn’t know how to pray for the people there or the neighborhood, and even when I tried to pray, I couldn’t really believe that it would make any difference. I always get misty-eyed whenever I hear stories about Mother Teresa or similar people who love the unloved and wash the sores of the lepers. What I am a bit ashamed to have realized is that generally, the unloved are that way for a reason. It does not come naturally to want to serve people who haven’t bathed in months, are nearly impossible to understand when they talk, what is comprehensible is often obscene, and what they do is self-destructive. This last Friday, a girl from our DTS was talking to a homeless woman with only one leg, and no shoe. She felt that she was supposed to give this woman one of hers, so she took it off and handed it to her. The next day, we encountered that same woman as we were downtown inviting homeless people to an event that provided blankets, food, and a change of clothing. She had no shoe, and gave no indication of what had happened to it. She asked for some water, so I gave her my bottle. She proceeded to dump the bottle on the ground and then throw the bottle on the sidewalk, laughing as she started to hobble away. It’s not exactly the kind of story that you would find in Guideposts magazine.
The hardest part about all of this has been having to recognize things about myself that I would just as soon not. It’s easy for me to love humanity; it’s hard for me to love the smelly schizophrenic homeless lady. It’s easy for me to say “Thy kingdom come;” however, in the Bajío, the circle of white kids singing worship songs on Friday nights seems more like an almost comical anachronism than a promise of a coming kingdom. What can we really change, I wonder? Why does any of this matter? And then the words cross my mind: “Ye of little faith.”
Still, I believe that God has started to rebuild even in the midst of the long process of deconstruction. While I am still nervous about India and still have no idea what to expect, I am increasingly excited that God is going to use us to some exciting end, not because of anything that we are doing, but simply because we are willing. While I am still frustrated about not understanding Spanish as well as I would like, I had the opportunity to translate for church on Sunday, and it felt like it went relatively well. While I am definitely tired and struggling a lot of the time, it feels like there is an immense amount of growth and healing that has happened even since arriving, and I’m excited to see the process continue. There still isn’t anywhere else I would rather be.
In conclusion: please keep up your prayers for our group as we prepare for India. We still do not know exactly where we will be going or what we will be doing. The way that YWAM works is that they are very concerned with listening for the voice of God, so the way that they determine this is by having everybody pray about it and then writing down all the different images/words/Bible verses/place names that come to mind. This is obviously something a bit new for me, but it’s been exciting to see how it’s shaped up so far. Pray for us for clarity and preparation as we continue this process. Also, a few days ago they told us that they are planning a big outreach in Ensenada for Carnival, February 11-17th. Please keep that in your prayers as well. For me personally, God has been showing me a lot about my need for humility over the past few days. Please pray for me that he will fill me with his humility and compassion for those that we are going to reach out to, because I know that what I saw in the Bajío will be just a very small taste of what we will see in India. Finally, please pray for rest. While I have been sleeping better, I still just feel exhausted.