Red Rain Jacket

The day was a juxtaposition of emotions. Excitement salted the air like a coastal town but there was also that accompanying saline scent, which was subtle but undeniable fear. There was a sense of pride that you were now the top dog of the school but at the same time a humbling notion because you were putting yourself completely out there and leaving your beloved school behind. This was your moment. You were now a fourth year student and you knew what that meant. It was your year of practice. You would not have classes this year but instead a yearlong assignment. You were going to a place that the faculty chose and live among the people and put into practice what you had learned over these past three years. You were now a pastor, a worship leader, a missionary, a Sunday school teacher; whatever that church needed you were it… For the past three years, your professors had been tirelessly teaching you and preparing you for this moment. You had learned enough to know that you hadn’t even scratched the surface of the Bible but somehow by the grace of God you are now equipped enough to preach His precious Gospel. Your parents and home church had been earnestly praying for you all this time. Your American brothers and sisters had ensured you a free education and you know that they were covering you with their prayers as well. Where were you going? You didn’t know but you knew you were going wherever it was. It could be up in the mountains where the people don’t speak Spanish and the thick mud envelopes the ground. It could be in the middle of a prominent city or a small isolated rural community. You could be going to Puebla. You could be going to Chiapas. You could be going to Veracruz. You could be going to Oaxaca. You might be able to use your cell phone or you might be completely out of range. You might be going to a place where there is a flourishing church or you might be going to a town where there are only a couple Christian families. You might face severe persecution from the town’s people or you might encounter only small disputable church matters. You might have your own room. You might be sleeping in someone’s living room or you might be sleeping in the church. What will you be eating? Chicken feet soup? There is some weird food up in the mountains and sometimes there might not be food at all for you.

These thoughts along with many others ran rampant through the minds of my brothers and sisters. Fear etched the faces of my dearly loved friends but there was also this irrefutable light of willingness and anticipation in their dark eyes. Their faith astounded me. Here they were… in the midst of everything… I’m sure it was hard to pack, not knowing if they were going to some place bone chilling cold or unbearably hot….I’m sure it was hard to leave their families… I’m sure there were some tears shed on the bus ride here…. I’m sure a doubt or two crossed their mind… I’m sure the devil tempted them to turn back… But here they were… We were sitting in a circle in the Chapel… 20 sold out believers ready to take the Gospel to the ends of the earth… Nobody said anything for a moment just eyes darted back and forth from the floor to Dan to the ceiling back to the floor. Rain started falling hard on the roof with the occasional clap of thunder. The lights went out… Mr. Richardson spoke a few words of encouragement. The professors gave some spiritual and also paternal advice. You could tell how much the students meant to their teachers by their proud and watery eyes and choked up words. I felt so honored to be in this circle and witness this emotional time. I was sitting in between my best friend Debi and my pal Abner. I looked across the room to Oscar, Yoiner, Ivan, Cesiah, Marisol, Angel, Evelia, Tania, Suset, Danny M, Julia, Eva, Lucia, Cesar, Mimi, Danny G, Nancy, and Nacho and I was overwhelmed with not wanting them to leave, but excited to see them heed the call of Christ, and encouraged by their obedience. Dan read the list…. the list of names with assignments…. Nacho, La Cumbre…. Julia, Puebla… Cesiah, Puebla…. Yoiner, Vega del Sol…. Debi, Oaxaca…. the list goes on…. After the list was read the faculty and I stood behind these great men and women of the faith and we prayed over them. When it was my turn to pray, tears streamed down my face as I pleaded with God on their behalf. I thanked God for their lives, I begged Him to protect them from evil, and I prayed that His Kingdom would be advanced through them. And then that was it. Debi and Nancy, two sisters and two of my closest friends left within a half hour to two different villages in the mountains of Oaxaca. As we rushed to make sure they had everything packed, I noticed Nancy didn’t have a rain jacket; I gave her the one off my back as she got in the car to leave. It was the least I could do as I stood in the rain watching the truck pull away….

This actually happened the first week of September, I just recently found the words to describe it. And this picture was taken two months before Nancy left. We were heading back to MITC on a bus after hanging out downtown.