Just Call Me "Juan Ricardo"

Note: This does not qualify as an official Story Entry, even though this post alone could probably knock the socks off anything Box or Jason could attempt, I don't wish to enter this particular chapter of my life in the contest. Where as while Colin may have marched with the Penguins and Jason may have proposed in a fish-tank, I had my own reward in seeing God's work done, but I'll get to that later. Thank you.

So let me begin by saying everything happened this weekend. Texas embarrassed OU, David Crowder came to Borders, and there was actually a Sunday at church without Junior Highers (which, if I may say, was pretty upset that that one special weekend off was the one I'd be gone). Yes it was a productive weekend and I assumed a fun one for those who were actually in Austin, but my weekend was completely different. I mean it was like foreign....Oh wait it was, 'cause I was in Mexico, Piedras Negras to be exact.

In case you didn't know, Friday morning I ventured out with literally a group of people I'd never met before and crossed the border to partake in the on-going saga of "GO" ministries. The concept was simple: Go into a small little border town and leave it better than when you entered. The work was not so simple. The car-ride itself wasn't too bad, but I knew this was going to be intense when we stopped for Tacos close to the border, and all that was in mine was a solid pound or so of cow-and it wasn't necessarily cleaned to expectation with questionable ingredients, it was one of those 'Don't ask, just eat' kind of things. During this time I was introduced to what would be my grandma and abuela for the trip who were by all means stereotypical. One was strait out of 'Tuna Christmas' and the other was one of those Spanish, family oriented ladies you see on t.v. and what not. Shortly there-after I'd find myself crossing the line (no pun intended) and being able to say "I'm out of the U.S."

Upon arrival of the small colonia (community) stage one was to become acclimated to our environment. For most this was putting up flyers in Spanish about the clinic we'd start where as for me it consisted of playing futbol (soccer, for you illiterate individuals...Which is sad if you really are) with the local kids or chicos. A good time was had by all and I'm proud to say I had some of my first authentic conversations in Spanish with another person. That night I went to a Spanish-speaking Baptist church back across the border in Eagle Pass, Texas and shared my testimony to a group of people who I'd never met before. But it was awesome, even though as I'm sure most of you fully realize, I cannot stand public speaking and I'm the shyest person you'll ever meet.......Yeah. All of this was the easy part, the next morning would be volumes more important and challenging.

I awoke, ate, and entertained Saturday morning. For all the children, I was there newest toy. Mainly I'd just stand in the middle as they dazzled with their uncanny ability to pelt a soccer ball barefooted or in flip-flops* and have hours of fun running around (they never really seemed to tire down, which was a bigger challenge for me you can be sure). One of our games consisted of kids tossing the ball and me using my head to relay the action. After about 5 minutes of this I realized there will probably be repercussions in my future sending me into an early encounter with Altzheimer's somewhere down life's road. But it was a fun time. Dirty, sweaty, definitely smelly, the kids and I were occupied allowing the adults plenty of time to go through the clinic and receive the proper medical attention needed.
*Some did have shoes I won't lie, but that doesn't really matter seeing as how they could probably be on their knees and with their incredible shape put the fat little American kids to utter shame. This time it's not a question of what they feed them, but the fact that they don't gluttonize and that they actually cherish the ability to be mobile.

One of the things that amazed me about these children was how genuinely happy they were. To be honest they have next to nothing, perhaps a few hand-me-downs from older siblings that received them as hand-me-downs from America, but yet they made the best and didn't allow poverty to stricken them as some would think. They didn't need computers, or television, or Myspace to pass the time, and in a way, they were better for it. There was a sincere joy coming from situations where most American kids would say "I'm bored." In there minds, 'boredom' was the refusal to have fun, and none of them knew such a concept.

The other over-my-head quality was how kind they were. Even if you couldn't speak a lick of Spanish, or in my case, you could only force out broken sentences, they didn't care. All that mattered to them was that you were showing a substantial interest in their life, that you were actually giving them much deserved and needed attention. Most of them are used to not being noticed (which is absolutely horrible) in that either their parents don't have the time to, are gone from their lives, or just didn't care enough to stay and love these children. In this situation a little goes a long way as I'm sure you could imagine. It's heartbreaking, but a definite need that we as the more fortunate can help out with. It was then that I realized why God led me to go on this trip. He needed someone to show a few of His younger children that He loves them all. This time it was through a blonde, super-white kid from Austin. Jars of Clay paints this exact ministry of love very accurately in the song "Show You Love"**, and that's exactly what God wanted from me. That's exactly what the children needed from me.
**Album: Who We are Instead. The verses are significant as you will be able to see, but really key in on the chorus' lyrics.
Speak- say the words that no one else will ever say, Love- love like the world we know is over in a day/I'm gonna show you a love in every language, I'm gonna speak with the words that need no form, I'm gonna give you what you never had before/You're beautiful and I am weakened by the force of your eyes, So shine bright to separate the truth from the lies, I'm gonna show you love//So tie me to a tree and let the smoke and ash collect, No I won't regret to let love do what love will let, We can drown in mixed emotions or walk across an angry sea, This is the cost of being free//.


Once the day concluded the rest of the trip was mainly details. The quick highlights were that I got to lead worship, a capella at that, and I was able to share my experiences with the rest of the group that night. I was able to learn something about worship in Spanish cultures; it doesn't matter how perfect or in-tune it is, the only elements of any value are that it's loud and joyful. In this sense they are one step ahead of most Americans in this area for they realize worship isn't about dynamics, rather it's where the heart and the soul kneel before God's presence and through this meet the Beauty of God's love head-on, thus connecting with Him.

Such an amazing experience. Such an opportunity. Obviously I'm going to say that should you ever find yourself presented to do such, which if I'm correct Box is working that out for in the future, take advantage of a gift God is offering to you. Don't let the enemy frighten you with the barriers of culture and language, and the water there. But instead see how amazing God is by seeing His love shared and expressed from countries other than our own. Guys, believe it or not, there actually IS a world out there that, believe it or not again, God actually created. I'm just blessed to be able to become a part of that one chico or chica at a time.