Climbing Down The Mountain

Mexico missions trips have always been a mountain top experience for me. In Mexico I know what I need to do, see the results in front of my face, feel the need for God, and can be a part of that hand reaching out to the children there. Yes there are plenty of battles like language, heat, red ants, mosquitos, different foods, and crazy ninos... but it holds such a spirit of Christian unity, brotherhood, evangelism, and open hearts that the battles seem like nothing in comparison. Just sitting through one church service is a picture of God's unity of his people, His love accross the world, and the love of the body of Christ (or at least what they should have) for fellow Christians and the unsaved.

It's hard to explain how even the mountains surrounding us seem to be embracing the town as we were welcomed into homes, treated like honored guests, and served with humility in every way. People of Mexico look you in the eye as you pass, say hello and smile - in the church you shake hands with EVERYONE as the service starts and a song is sung (no wonder their churches are small) and you call them all brothers, kiss the cheeks of older women, and often exchange hugs as well along with the "How are you" and "May God bless you". They are so thankful for the small things we do in comparison to the hospitality, resources, time, and money they give to the projects and VBS that it embarasses me.. when have I ever come close to doing that for others? Never.

Our ties get stronger through the week despite the language barriers, cultural difference, and entirely different tastebuds - we become one. United in effort, united in purpose, and most of all united in Christ. Long before the end of the week when we stand in a circle with our brothers in Christ and hold hands to sing "Unidos" (United) we see that we are entirely united in an open caring way that I rarely feel in any large group in the states.

Then we come back and I become another part of the rat race without the clear purposes laid out of how to serve Christ, lacking the brown eyed smiles and open hands, and feeling a bit hollow inside as if I left something behind I can't even verbalize... and I feel as if I just climbed up a mountain to see the sunset and have stumbled back home. Nothing can be the same in the vibrance of that memory, yet few things in my current surroundings have changed.