During the spring of 1999, my dad heard strongly from God to go as missionaries to his hometown in Mexico and so, he and my mom packed up all five of us kids at the time, me, my two sisters and two brothers, and drove down in our old van to live in Lobatos, Zacatecas, Mexico for six months. Lobatos is the name of the tiny pueblo where my father was born and raised in, and I lived with my family in this pueblo in a tiny house across the street from my grandparents. My parents shared the gospel with our family members and others throughout the village whom God led them to and helped out at a small local Christian church that had been planted by pastors from Texas. Although I had visited Mexico a couple times before with my family, this was the trip that I will remember forever. The first time I was awakened to the fact that I could have lived a very different life if both of my parents had not immigrated from Mexico to the United States and when I realized that there were people in other countries who lived with so much less than I did and this was normal life to them. I have never forgotten my entire family driving a little boy who had been accidentally burned by boiling water to the nearest city hospital which was about a half hour away. I remember the smell and feel of driving over dusty, pebbly dirt roads to get anywhere, the slow-paced, relaxed, dreamy atmosphere of everyday life, smearing fireflies on warm summer nights across my abuela's huge black gate with my Tía Margarita until it shone with neon green streaks, falling asleep to the sounds of my dad's footsteps as he walked around our little house at night with a flashlight trying to find and kill any scorpions that might be lurking about our beds, and driving out to the countryside to share the gospel with a few isolated families who lived outside of the pueblo up on the mountains and being fascinated by knowing that they bathed in the nearby creek because they had no running water. They told my parents that many Christians had come to them before with their Bibles and they had always turned them away, but, for some reason, they couldn't find it in themselves to do that to us but always welcomed us and were eager to talk about Jesus with my parents while us kids roamed about exploring with their children.
As
young as I was, that experience changed something within me and after
we came back home, I clearly remember telling my pastor that I wanted to
be a missionary when I grew up. Since then, I've had the world on my
mind and the underprivileged and the poor, the starving, orphaned and
abused children of the developing world have been a burden on my heart. I
finally had my first opportunity to go on an international service trip
through Pepperdine University my junior year of college. I visited an
orphanage for the first time in Monte Cristi in the Dominican Republic
where we stayed for an entire week with the organization Orphanage
Outreach. I fell in love and felt immediately at home in this Caribbean
hispanic nation. It was like a very tropical version of the Mexico that I
knew. More than anyone on my team, I truly came alive and was able to
bond with the children at the orphanage immediately mainly because I was
one of the few of us who spoke Spanish. We stayed in tents on the
grounds of the orphanage and I spent all the time I could with the
children when we weren't teaching English at a nearby elementary school.
I met a girl who was interning at the orphanage for a year and I
remember admiring her quiet dignity and pure love for the children. I
could tell that she was unflustered by and accustomed to all the
short-term teams such as I my own that came through the orphanage. There
was a steadiness, a maturity and beauty of spirit that I admired about
her. I wanted to be just like her. I couldn't wait until the day I could
come back and stay for a much longer time just as she was doing.
The
last day we were there was a beautiful day. I was playing with one of
the little girls and swinging her around and around to her great
delight. I remember stopping and then she looked at me and asked me,
"can you stay here to live with me?" I told her "let's ask God if He
will let me." We both looked up at the beautiful, unending blue sky
together and then she looked into my eyes and with a huge smile on her
face said, "God told me yes!" My heart broke in two. I wanted to stay so
badly. On the bus that drove my team back to the airport came along
another girl who had been been an intern at the organization for 6
months and I was crying just as much as she was although I had only been
there for a week. When I got back to Pepperdine, I remember laying down
on my dorm bed as the tears streamed down my face. I called my mom
because I was worried about a pain in my chest and I was wondering if I
should call the doctor. It literally felt like there was a hand just
squeezing my heart...it hurt that badly. I guess this is what genuine
heartbreak felt like. I had never experienced it before and it scared
me.
A year after my trip to the Dominican Republic, my next mission trip was to Uganda, and two important things happened.
1. I fell in love with Jesus and entered into a personal relationship with Him.
2. My entire perspective on mission work shifted from just a humanitarian perspective to an eternal, godly perspective.
My
mission trip to Uganda through my church internship program was
entirely different because after encountering and embracing the true
love of Jesus for myself, all I wanted to do was share that same love
and knowledge of the transformation that God can work in any life and
any heart, a love that crosses all boundaries. I learned about the body
of Christ and that every believer is given specific gifts to build each
other up and gifts designed to be laid down for the Kingdom of God. I
learned that when God breaks your heart for someone or for a group of
people, it's usually because He is calling you to go to them, to share
the love of Christ with them and to make disciples of them. In Uganda, it was like watching the Bible come to life. I saw what spiritual warfare looks like in the physical realm. We prayed for people who were demon-possessed and prayed for the sick. We saw and felt demonic oppression. I realized that prayer is truly a weapon and that is how we fight and overcome. I realized that humanitarian work can only do so much. I realized that no matter how much good we do for people materially in the developing world, (building houses/schools/orphanages, giving medical care, food, clothes, etc.), no matter how much humanitarian work we do (and Christians are called to do this of course), if we are not bringing new souls into the Kingdom and seeing people saved, baptized and discipled in the local church as well, then we are not loving them as God has called us to love them by introducing them to the same reality of God's love as we ourselves have encountered. This is a war between life and death. We must share the gift that we have received...the gift of salvation and eternal life above all else. Now that I know that God is a God who brings healing, physically and spiritually, who brings freedom, who breaks addictions and loves us so extravagantly, I know what my mission is, at home or abroad. I came back home from my trip to Uganda almost as messed up as I had been after returning from the Dominican Republic. I cried for two days straight and couldn't understand why God would do this again: why would He break my heart for Uganda...for the beautiful people and culture there...for the wonderful friendships I had made in such a short time when I couldn't see any chance of returning there anytime in the near future? Then I understood. I understood that God had allowed me to feel along with Him just a little bit of His heart for this small piece of the world. I understood just a little bit of how God's heart breaks for His people of every nation, tribe and tongue. If I could feel that much love in my heart, then I couldn't even fathom how big the heart of God must be and how much more the brokenness of the entire world must hurt Him. He was teaching me that I was no different from them and that He doesn't love me anymore than He loves any person from any other country, race, culture or background. I came back with a new passion to see people from my community come to know Jesus. I returned with a new perspective and new love for my neighbor here...in Southern California, for my city, my school, my co-workers, my family and friends.
I took this same perspective with me on my next mission trip to the Philippines through my internship program. I saw God moving and working mightily throughout that nation and was greatly encouraged by the incredible local church we were able to partner with while we were there. This is not "voluntourism" nor is it just a mission trip without a lasting purpose. As Christians, we must be extremely careful with our purpose and goals in missions. As I'm praying to devote hopefully the next year or more (only God knows) to international mission work, I want to be strategic in what I choose to be a part of. I want to go out with clear direction from the Holy Spirit (if He's not moving, then I'm not moving), wise counsel and confirmation from family and friends, and making sure wherever it is God sends me I am coming alongside the locals, supporting them and raising them up, supporting a local church that is already there or in the process of being planted and not taking away from it, being respectful of the culture and traditions of the country I am in, and bringing others to Christ and encouraging them in their walk with Him.
Which brings us to now, to the summer of 2014. I will be going back to the City of Children and I am so thankful to God that it will be for longer than just a week! I am so excited that it is in Mexico, my native land! Haha. Not really. It's my parents' homeland but I love it and I want it to become more and more a part of me because those are my people! At the home, there are 90+ children ranging from babies up to teenagers. I had previously taken a team down there from my university during my Spring Break in late February and so I was already able to make relationships and bond with several of the children and staff (almost entirely Mexican) already. I am most excited to continue and grow those relationships especially with the pre-teen and teen girls. I want to come along as an older sister and someone they can trust, and also not just be another American who comes and then has to leave them after only a week. I am excited to work on my Spanish and ability to translate (help me Jesus!) and hope to return by the end of the summer hopefully forgetting how to speak English. ;) As an intern I will be helping host the American teams that come weekly during the summer, helping translate for them and helping them run their VBS programs smoothly. I am hoping to learn all I can about the very difficult, many times heart-breaking work that goes into running a home for abandoned and abused children. Most of all, I want God to do a great work in my heart, to break my heart over and over again for what breaks His, until it's so broken that I completely forget all about myself and desire to only lay down my life for others, for his beautiful children just as He did for us. He has given me so much. He has given me a beautiful life...wonderful family, friends, mentors and pastors who love me and cherish me, an incredible education at excellent, beautiful schools, and parents who lavish their love on me and believe in me. He has done so much for me that my desire has never been stronger to lay it all down for Him...whatever it is He asks of me...even if it is to leave family, friends and everything I know. I just want to give it all up for Him and I know that His heart is for the orphan, the poor, the broken and the lost here in the states or abroad. Wherever it may be you are calling me, Lord I am ready. May the Father's love fill me up to overflowing every day and be poured out on every child and young person, every hurting and broken heart I meet. And so, I invite you to come with me to the City of Children and learn more about the Father's love with me in that place...
"If you cling to your life, you will lose it; but if you give up your life for me, you will find it."-Matt. 10:39
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