First off, a huge thanks again to all of you who supported
our trip, financially and prayerfully, down to Mision Mexico in Tapachula. Although there was the initial postponement,
the delayed trip resulted in what my brother-in-law Kirk called “the most productive”
of all the trips he has taken. All three trips I have made have been
great in different ways. What’s been similar throughout is that each trip
builds relationships and trust.
I’m sure we’ve all been damaged, taken advantage of, and hurt
in some of our relationships. Perhaps
not to the degree that some of the kids at Mision Mexico Refuge have before
they came to the orphanage, but I’m sure we can all relate on some level. We
can compare good and bad relationships of our past and our current lives, and
we know that relationships take time. So
the familiarity that’s been built over the past four years since we first
headed down there is fantastic…
When I walked into Mision Mexico on the first day, there
were lots of hugs, lots of smiles, and lots of friendly faces. It’s hard to
remember everyone’s name, and some kids have grown or changed a hairstyle, but
there’s a love, God’s Love, that permeates the place so much so that now there
is a “This feels like home,” sensation upon entrance. Problems from back home
go away temporarily because my job is to make sure that the kids are having a
good time. At least that’s what I feel
God has commissioned me to do…I get to be the sports guy—play some volleyball,
basketball, soccer, Crazyball, etc., and trust that God will take care of the
rest. Despite the chaos of 40 kids running around, there’s a Garden of Eden
quality to it—for a week life gets very simple.
Now that’s easy for me to say because I get to play the “cool Uncle”
role for a week, as opposed to Pam and Alan, or the amazing volunteers who are
working constantly to take care of these kids.
I’m guessing no one in those roles has ever thought of him or herself as
a comparison to the caretakers of flora and fauna where everything else is taken care
of. And since my brother-in-law is in
charge of the trip, for one week in my life I actually get to be the assistant
and not the head guy, which is a great break. I told Jackson, one of the head
volunteers who has been there for a year and half now, that I’d like to read
his biography someday, if not write it.
I have no idea where he gets the energy every day to take care of these
kids. I run off God’s tank for a week, and it takes a few weeks to recover when
I get back to the States. So how the heck have Pam and Alan run this place for
so long?
My best and most honest answer is: this place only works
because God is definitely here, and so is everyone else’s Love and prayers. I
sprained my wrist badly and my ankle within my first hour at the orphanage
while playing volleyball. I felt sick to
my stomach over the immense pain and my thoughts turned selfish. How the heck
was I going to get through this week on one leg with one arm? But the kids were
amazing and caring during this time. I went and bought a couple cheap braces at
the store, and was back at it about six hours later…during that time I probably
cursed God and also asked him to get me through this. I’m not even really sure,
because my body hurt big time, but somehow I was able to hobble back and play
some one-armed volleyball and some one-legged Crazyball (a combination of
soccer and basketball). I drew my inspiration from the kids because they are
all chargers. They surf and skate with no fear. I’m sure their tattered pasts
propel them. I’m sure for a lot of them there’s a feeling of, “This is fun compared to what I’ve been through,” so I had to tap into resource.
Enough of that, though…the simple morale of that story was “Keep going…”
There was a heavy dose of skating on this trip. And if you know me, you know I don’t skate.
There’s a good chance I probably won’t ever get on a skateboard again…the idea
of falling on cement (since I already did that playing volleyball with a fun
result) has no appeal. But for a lot of
the kids (not just the kids at Mision Mexico, but in the town of Tapachula),
skating is their number one activity. I’m most impressed with how my
brother-in-law has tapped into this culture.
We all know that skaters have a reputation, it’s not a good one, and
some of it is deserved. It seems
silly though…the reputation that is…because it’s an athletic activity. Perhaps it’s daredevil proclivity draws a
certain crowd. Then again, maybe we exacerbate the stereotype like we do with
most stereotypes. After seeing four
skating sessions—a mini-contest at some guy’s ramp, a downhill bombing session,
a mini-contest for the kids, and our big Tapachula Skate Clasico at Pemex
Park—well, much respect to these skaters, because they get nuts and go for it.
I witnessed some bad falls, a sprained ankle, a roadkilled elbow, a mid-session
board to the face resulting in a broken nose (the dude kept going), and other
crazy falls that I’m shocked didn’t result in time off.
But the most impressive aspect of all this is that somehow
Kirk has built a skating ministry in a no-name Mexican town. Perhaps this is
the best example of Christianity I could offer with my limited knowledge. It’s
not some megachurch in Sunday, Orange County (because I can promise you after
going to Church in Tapachula a couple times, I know this--God ain’t white),
it’s not some politics-mixed-with-religion debate that keeps dividing us (the
way the devil wants us to be divided), and it’s not some narcissistic fool
telling you you’re better than someone else because of what you’ve done or
haven’t done or where you were born or weren’t born. It’s grit in the jungle or
wherever you are. It’s grinding through the tough times, working hard, and
sharing Love for everyone. It’s doing what you love to do, and at least taking
a little bit of time to acknowledge God who gave you these opportunities. It’s
not going to be perfect, because we aren’t, but if you can find those moments
and slow down, you’ll recognize that God is at work all around you, when you
want him to. But never does it become
more clear to me than when I am down in Mexico, with people we rarely think
about, realizing that they are having as much fun (if not more) than we are
with a lot less (the way we define less and more).
A last note—I asked a lot of you to pray for my health while
I was down there. Obviously you failed since within the first hour of my trip I
went down with a sprained ankle and wrist. Kidding. Actually I noticed within a
couple days (maybe because of the ankle and wrist pain) that my hip was feeling
a lot better. For too long I obsessed over being able to play in the Sunday
futbol match, and worried that I would not be able to. I injured my hip in
February and was not able to do much for a long time. For the first time since
before the injury, I was able to swing 100% with my right leg while kicking a
ball. We had a great time playing another ridiculously long game, and at the
end of it I was able to walk off in the rain feeling very satisfied and very
close to God. It was just nice to go out and compete with the kids, cheer them
on, make some good plays, make some bad ones, and then cram 30 people into a 15
passenger van on our way back while I apologize to the kids for sweating all
over them.
I realize that a lot of this narrative is about myself…I think
that’s because these trips are always spiritual journeys. The kids down in
Tapachula are fine…well, not fine in the sense that there aren’t problems. Of
course there are problems when you have that many kids in one spot. There are
illnesses, surgeries, disputes, kids who run away (some come back, and some
don’t), broken pasts that result in tears, bad decisions, and lots of pain, so
the prayers are always needed. We don’t
do this alone, and by working together, we realize that we are never truly
alone when God is at work. But we are not to take this for granted, it is our
job to love one another and pray for one another, just the way Jesus did
for…everyone.
Thank you again for your support. It truly was an awesome
trip. I got to room with my nephew and get to know him a lot better, which was
fantastic. It’s an honor to serve with anyone, but especially family
members—Kirk, Noah, and JJ. Kirk
performed 8 baptisms are last day on the beach. I got to be the photographer,
much like I was for all the skating, and that was pretty cool. Because
sometimes it’s our role just to assist, hang in the background, and enjoy
taking it all in, too. God Bless…
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