Mi Vida Part 1

Mi Vida Part 2

Chicken Foot Soup, Anyone?

What are you willing to bleed for?

Have you ever found yourself face to face with someone’s blood? Maybe a mom reading this has cleaned up a skinned-up knee. Maybe an athlete reading this has helped a teammate with a bloody nose. I don’t know your life experiences but let me ask you another question. How important is our blood to us? What worth does our blood have? Considering that blood is our life source, I’d say the worth is substantially significant. Blood is what keeps us going, keeps us alive. Undoubtedly, our blood is of vital importance and the mere paper cut puts us in an automatic frenzy to stop that red surge because as children we learned that blood needs to stay in our body and that there is imminent danger in the loss there of. So where am I going with this? You shall now see….

Her screams were terrifying with each yelp reaching down and tearing at your soul. You wanted to do something, anything, but you were frozen still, completely powerless, taking in the scene. Surely those around felt the same fear and helplessness that you did but they stood as well, unmoving. It was clear that everyone was impacted by her outburst. Mauro rushed by me to help the three guys who were already trying to restrain Chayo. She, who had just woken up from surgery aggressive and petrified, was clearly a danger not only to herself but others. Now there were four guys holding her down as Laura, the anesthesiologist was summoned to inject Chayo with something to help calm her down. Within minutes the screaming diminished to crying and then to soft whimpering and finally to silence as Chayo, the girl one year younger than me with Down syndrome, fell asleep.

An hour later during my break I was chatting with some students outside when I heard Chayo’s ever recognizable cry coming from the roomful of sleeping children. Indistinctively, I rose from where I was and tracked her fraught whimpering to her bedside in the make-shift recovery room. As soon as I opened the door, all eyes in the dark room turned to me. I was the only American in the room but more notably the only one in scrubs. And then as the moment passed all the chocolate colored concerned eyes in the gloomy room passed from me to the back of the room where Chayo and her mother were seated. Slowly but with a tinge of fear, wondering if in the next moment I would be running to get Marcos, I walked to the back of the room and sat down on the cot directly in front of her. Chayo’s eyelids were scrunched together only allowing her eyeballs to peek out every now and then. The two neatly cut curves under her eyes reminded me of two opposing red shaped half moons on either side of her nose. There were hints and trails of dried blood from the half moon shaped scars to the edge of her lips and even a little on her chin. Her left hand was coated in dry blood from the episode of her waking up fist in hand and pulling out her IV. Although the room was dimly lit I could see that her mother’s face was beyond distressed at the current condition of her beloved daughter; however, the immediate comfort and relief brought on by my mere presence was undeniable as a couple of lines in her furrowed brow dissipated. I sat down not knowing what to say much less what to do for my medical career had just started that morning. Unaware of my presence, Chayo started rocking back and forth, heel to toe, weeping and calling out for her daddy and Pepe. Her mother gripped her tightly begging her to calm down with bribes and reassuring promises that she was not alone and that she was ok. This was to no avail until the unbroken chain of Spanish rolling off her tongue informed Chayo that her “doctora” was there in front of her wanting to clean off her face. My breath caught in my throat at these words. I had been mistakenly called doctor all weekend by patients and even jokingly by the students but this was much different. Now I was expected to help clean off the blood on her face. Let me tell you something about me if you haven’t read the previous blog, I don’t do blood. I don’t do pain. I run from pain. I have run from the physical pain of others all my life. But in this moment, a girl, one year younger than me, was looking to me and needing me to heal her. And I knew exactly what to do. I was in this very recovery room five hours earlier when a nurse explained to me the right way to clean a wound for no apparent reason. I just thought he liked to talk a lot so I listened and thank God I paid attention to what he said because I had no reason to at the time. I immediately located gauze and wet it in water and started to blot off the blood ever so tenderly. Chayo was in perfect peace as I steadied her head with my left hand and cleaned her face with my right. And then after her face was clear of red with exception to those half shaped moons under her eyes, I took her left hand and started to wipe off the remaining blood. After I finished cleaning off the blood she started crying again only to be consoled that her doctor was there to clean her face so I started the cleaning process again and this played out until her father and brother arrived. I would guess it was thirty minutes later when they showed up and I finally had faces to match the two names she had been calling out to all along. The family left within ten minutes, leaving me with a heavy heart and one step closer to knowing and understanding my beautiful Christ.

You see my Christ died for me. He shed his blood for my sins. Oh, how many times I hear and say those very words! But how much of impact do those very words have on my life? Those words became so real to me last night as I was face to face with human blood, our life source. I couldn’t help but think of my Savior’s blood as I gently cleaned off the blood on Chayo’s face and I couldn’t help but think of my Heavenly Father as I watched the mother’s body flinch as if she was the one in more pain. The fact that the blood of my Savior was spilled for me astounded me in this moment. And how much more so did our God hurt as he willingly gave up his Son to die on a cruel cross at our hands? These thoughts proved powerful and to the point of overwhelming me and striking me in awe of God. The fact that Jesus died on a cross and He didn’t have his Dad there to hold him or a doctor there to wipe away His blood. No, He was beaten and humiliated and hung on a cross. And yes, Mary was there along with others at the crucifixion but He was up there on that cross. They couldn’t reach out and hold His hand. My Savior died on a cross calling out to His Dad. How beautiful but also how horrific did the blood flow! How many times do we say Bible verses and sing songs about the blood of Jesus compared to the number times we take time to think about the words we are saying and singing and then shudder at the very thought of the blood of Christ being poured out for our souls? Jesus bled for me. Man, that’s powerful. It’s powerful to think about those words. It’s powerful to be reminded of those words. It’s powerful to live out those words. I will never comprehend the extent of pain or suffering Jesus went through on that unimaginable day but after my experience with Chayo I am more conscious of the value of our blood. For example, Chayo was willing to bleed to have better eye sight. Jesus was willing to bleed to have me. Then finally I asked myself, what am I willing to bleed for? These are the thoughts and question I have pondered ever since….

But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:5

Playing Doctor with the Optometrists

So I don’t do pain. I don’t do blood. Since I was in middle school my grandmother has always told me, “Brooke, you should be a nurse when you grow up, just like your mother, aunt, and other grandmother.” And I inwardly cringe every time that suggestion leaves her lips because I couldn’t imagine dealing with people’s physical pain on a daily basis. I didn’t always use to be like this. I feel like this all started when I had to deal with physical pain on a daily basis. It was when pain became a struggle and fight in my life that I became super high sensitive to the physical pain of others. However, being at MITC, especially during the summer, I have had to learn how to overcome or at least deal with my anxiety over this issue because I have had to translate for over hundreds of medical consultations. For instance, one week I was working with a curly haired doctor from Shreveport and at the end of the week she told me that when I was in front of the patient and she was examining the patient from behind she didn’t even have to ask if the patient was feeling pain in the area that she was touching because all she had to do was look at the expression on my face. With that being said, it’s been a difficult process and you knowing this background info will help you understand my story about a girl with Down syndrome named Chayo.

This past weekend at the compound a team of eye surgeons came from Louisiana and Tennessee to operate on over a hundred patients. The students worked hard to turn MITC into a make-shift hospital. My assignment was to translate and work with the children specialists, Dr. Black and Dr. Debbie. I cannot describe in words how special and unique this opportunity was for me because these surgeons that I had the blessing to work with are some of the best in the country. I had the opportunity to scrub in two surgeries and was taught the different kinds of instruments used and the manner in which to hand them to the doctor. I watched and gave instruments to world renown, Dr. Brad Black, who performed a surgery in forty minutes that someone later informed me that this would have taken medical students at UT eight hours to do.

The first picture is from one of the surgeries that I had the honor of scrubbing in for. Here Dr. Black is fixing a little girl’s crossed eyes. This was a special case for me because this girl is one of the ones from the Orphanage here in Cordoba that I work with every Thursday. I promised her that I would be there with her the whole time. The procedure for this type of surgery includes loosening the muscles from the eye, straightening the eyes up, and then reattaching the muscles to the eyes so that when the child wakes up, her or his eyes are lined up. This particular surgery is extremely important because if the child is not operated on before puberty he or she will actually go blind in one eye. The second picture is of the two girls from the orphanage that were operated on and this picture was taken two weeks after their surgeries. I really enjoyed my time with the team of eye surgeons and hope to work with them again.

Mark Stern, a very talented professional photographer, took pictures all weekend of the work. If you would like to see some more of his pictures you can go to this link.... BUT be warned.... there are numerous pictures of surgeries so if you have a weak stomach when it comes to blood, i would pass if i were you..... http://marksternphoto.zenfolio.com/cordoba

Go ahead, You told me so....

Today is Thanksgiving. I was told this on the phone by my mom a couple hours earlier. Her calls have become less frequent and her voice a little less frantic and anxious. I don’t blame her at all. Today is my fourth day being shut off from the world and to be honest something I have come to realize is that it is the world that poses the stronger threat to me than my illness posing a danger to it. Sweet Hermana Keta brought me a plate of food, being careful not to cross the threshold she called out my name softly. I was on the verge of my endless trancelike sleep when suddenly the twisted pronunciation of my name Brewk broke into my blurred thoughts and interrupted my pending dreams. I shifted over on my side and my eyes traced the Spanish to the door and my hazy vision fixated on the plate covered by a napkin. In the next moment I was up on my feet headed ever cautiously to the door with my hands already out in great expectation of the gift I was about to receive. But something ever more precious than the gift of food that I just been handed was the gift of her counsel that she left me mentally chewing on as she walked away. She told me that sometimes God stops us and puts us into situations where we have no other choice but to be still and in that stillness He pulls us closer to Himself. She lovingly encouraged me and told me that they were praying for me in my forced stillness and quietness.

So what happened to me? Let’s start on Sunday. Everything seemed like a normal Sunday. I went to my beloved church, la Cumbre, and the service lasted almost two hours. Nothing peculiar there… Then we ate tacos and snacks and fellowshipped outside for the next 40 minutes… Once again, normal Sunday…. Then we made our way back to the school, looking forward to the 2:30 lunch because one of the professor’s wives makes lunch every Sunday so you knew you were going to get something good. And they served Mole (special chocolate sauce that you pour over your meat) which at one time I detested but now at the mere mention of this Mexican dish my mouth waters. So the perfect Mayberry Sunday continued as the students and I sat down, sang a song praise, prayed over meal, and dug in our food. However clouds formed and thunder rolled on the perfect Mayberry Sunday as we were washing the dishes from our meal. Pain started abruptly in the temples of my head leaving me dizzy and complaining of a major headache. Luis bought me a coke with the hopes that all I needed was a shot of that good ole caffeine. And with a cold coke in hand, I had to excuse myself to go lie down. I climbed up on the top bunk and went to sleep despite the light of the sun shining through my window and I awoke to pure darkness for I had slept until the beginning of night. My head still hurt so I crossed out the need for caffeine and tried some Advil and went to scoundrel up some food. Ten minutes later, I found myself in my pastor’s house, seated at their table, eating Oreos, and watching their fourteen year old son make me a sandwich. And I don’t have to go into details in how that conspired but it was a wonderful sandwich and I have you know (especially those readers who took Latin American culture with me in college) that not all Mexican males are macho and this is a perfect example. So anyways with a belly full, I made a few calls home and then went back to my room and little did I know that approaching was a night which would be in the top five worst of my life. My headache had gotten steady worse so I was looking forward to sleeping it off and I first went to sleep pretty easily that night. But I have no idea what time it was but I woke up sweating and trembling at the same time. My body was so hot, I felt like a fire was consuming me. I threw off my blankets in a fury and clung to my pillow praying for relief. I felt so bad and I couldn’t go back to sleep after that. My head was burning. Oh, was my head ever burning! Only God knows how long I was awake that night but it seemed like the dawn would never come and sleep could not find me.

However, when dawn did come sleep found me but only for a little while. I woke up at nine with that residing pain that inhabited itself so comfortably in my head now but a new sharp ache in my chest accompanied it leaving me bewildered and wounded. I got up and did some things that morning only to come back to my room defeated from this enemy within body. Jackie found me curled up, hands cradling my head, in my bed at 12:00 and convinced me that it was serious and it was past time to go talk to Dan about what I was feeling. We walked to his office together and I went in and told him everything that was going on and much to my dismay he said that they were going to take me to the doctor this instant. And later I would thank God like I have done on many other occasions for Dan’s discernment especially regarding this decision. So Hermana Mary took me to see the spicy Doctora Rocio. Now I love Doctora Rocio. She always helps when the American teams are here; we had worked side by side just this past weekend with the eye doctors. She is witty, intelligent, and simply put a beautiful person. We went to her office and sat patiently in the waiting room. Well Hermana Mary waited patiently; I waited in ever increasing pain. I tried to distract myself by watching the TV screen, which was smaller than a cereal box, but it was just the news covering the flu epidemic. I wondered if nothing else had happened overnight in the country of Mexico as time ticked and they still went on about this crazy influenza. It’s humorous to me now that the thought never occurred to me at this point that I could be the very next statistical number to the outbreak of the flu in Veracruz. Not once did this cross my mind. Not once… Yes, I know the flu got passed around sorority row during Rush and many LSU students came down with it but nobody here has gotten it. The only people I knew who had were in the States. So it never crossed my mind but those were the first words that came out of Dr. Rocio’s mouth after she listened to my symptoms. “¡Brewk, tienes la influenza!” Then she had to convince me that she was not kidding. We took a chest x-ray and it was incredible how much mucus had already infiltrated my lungs in less than 24 hours. Dr. Rocio then sat me down and explained the seriousness of my problem. She told me that this problem in my lungs is the exact complication from the flu that people die from and she also explained to me that with the progression of mucus in my lungs and without having treatment after seventy-two hours only God knows if I would have still been breathing. From that moment we treated my illness vigorously with a shot, antibiotics, tamiflu, and some pain meds to help with my fever. And I have been secluded to my room ever since. But it is not so bad. I have had plenty of time to think, pray, watch movies, work on a scrapbook, and listen to my music and podcasts. And now I feel better and refreshed. God is taking care of me here in Mexico. God is ever faithful and I thank Him for stopping me and keeping me to Himself for awhile.

La niña de tus ojos- The Conference

“Often when we thrill to the realization of a call from God, we picture going from our faces to our feet as He increasingly elevates our position. The reverse, however, is often truer in the earthly realm.” Beth Moore. During the process of preparing for this conference this quote rang true in every way as I was brought to my knees seeking God’s help not only with what I was going to say but also how I was going to say it. If you have met me then it’s a good chance that you know that I am not the most confident in my Spanish. It literally has been a continuous fight to learn this language and the majority of days I still feel pinned to the mat, overpowered by a stronger adversary with a flexible rolling tongue. Once again Beth Moore also states in her Esther study, “God isn’t interested in our stellar performance but in our hearts. He loves our willingness and obedience despite our insecurities.” Well I just finished my 8 week Beth Moore Study and those were two of my favorite quotes from the book because they hit home for me… And I don’t think it was a coincidence that I finished my study on the life of Esther right before the conference. Let’s just say Esther had to do something really scary to save lives. And although I am not a Jew and I don’t expect genocide here in Mexico, I honestly see what I had to do as something scary and also as something to save lives. Around eighty girls came from all over the state of Veracruz and also some from out of state to this young women’s conference. When the time came for me to give the first section, peace washed over me and I was reminded of Jeremiah when he said he had to speak the truth because his bones felt as if they were on fire. So I got up there. I got up there in front of eighty girls. All eyes were on me as I set up my laptop with the PowerPoint. And then I took a deep breath and walked out from behind the stand and started…..

I started with a story that any girl could relate to, a story of a broken heart, more specifically a story of my broken heart. Let me tell you the way I saw it; I had many boundaries between me and these girls and I had to break them down in order to get through to them. First off, my mere appearance could be a boundary although I prayed that my nationality would bring intrigue instead being an obstacle. I was aware that preconceived notions would inevitably come along with seeing my white skin and blue eyes. And with my introduction I was determined to break down this possible barrier. Peel back the skin, be vulnerable, and let them see my heart was my objective. Because like I said at the end of my introduction, it doesn’t matter what country you are from all females have the same basic desires and needs. After breaking down this obstacle, I was determined to put myself on their level and I tried this by salting my speech with Mexican slang words and also by making a joke about feeling more Jarocha (not just Mexican but a Mexican girl from Veracruz) than American sometimes. I think this proved effective because I had some students later mention to me that they loved the fact that I talked their talk, not just Spanish but their Spanish. Anyway, these are just things I prepared for but it was God who worked and did He ever work! I could feel the girls following my words as I watched their chocolate colored eyes move as I moved across the stage. I believe their eyes followed my movements in the same way as their hearts followed my words. It is an incredible feeling to be still before God and just let Him work through you. In fact, it is addicting. At the end of the second section, I didn’t want to step down because I was afraid that I would never feel the power and presence of God so close to me again. I didn’t want the fire that had been so mysterious lit and the sensation of my burning heart to go out or grow cold. But my job had been done. The Word of God had been preached. My points? You are a girl created by God and for God. You are a girl with real needs and longings that only Jesus can fulfill. And you are a girl completely lost without Jesus Christ. I wanted it to be simple and clear. Thank you for your prayers. Your prayers were answered. God did a mighty work. Many came up to me, some on the verge of tears, telling me that God spoke straight to their hearts and touched their lives. At the end Anita asked the girls who had never been to a church or a church event before to raise their hands. Around fifteen girls raised their hands. That is awesome! Some students even came up to me, telling me that they didn’t expect to learn anything but to their surprise God opened their eyes to some unforeseen things in their hearts and lives. Thank you for your prayers. I honestly can’t thank you enough for your prayers for my ministry. The power of your interceding to God on my behalf is what sustained me and empowered me during the conference. I am believing God that lives were touched and forever impacted by my obedience, your prayers, and His Word.

Doy gracias a Dios por tu vida y tu amistad

I didn’t realize just how special my friendship with Debi is until this past weekend. Her younger sister, Loida, and I set out early Friday afternoon for Rancho Chico, Puebla. This little dusty town that I like to call “la tierra de Debi” or “the land of Debi” has taken a special place in my heart. I guess you could call it my home away from home. My first memory of Rancho Chico is of me walking down the streets of dust and everyone turning their heads to look at me as if I was an alien. It felt like an old black and white episode of the Twilight Zone. Debi explained to me that I was the only guerra (white girl) that many had seen in her town. Taking in the surroundings of this new environment that I found myself in left me pleasantly surprised at how dissimilar Rancho Chico, Puebla was from my ever familiar Cordoba, Veracruz. Let’s just say that Cordoba is covered in lush green while a thick blanket of dust covers the ground in Rancho Chico. Cordoba’s palm trees adorn the verdant environment while cactuses dominate the land of Rancho Chico. Cordoba is full of Abercrombie clothed city boys while real life cowboys with Levi jeans and spurs ride horses and donkeys in Rancho Chico. Horrendous thunderstorms threaten Cordoba while the wind likes to pick up, throw around, and twirl dirt in rotating spirals in Rancho Chico. One other austere difference is the issue of water. 100% of the time water flows through the facet in Cordoba while in Rancho Chico you would be lucky to take a bath with running water one or two days out of the week. So how in the world did I ever find this place and how in the world did a dust bowl with hardly any running water become a second home to me? The answer: Simply put, it’s Debi’s hometown and her family has become like my own…

Loida and I arrived around 6:00 that night, and just like the first time I went to Rancho Chico the Gonzales-Sanchez family welcomed me with open arms, doing everything to accommodate me and love me. During this quick trip home, Loida and I spent the days visiting family and friends. I left this weekend understanding the grace of God a little bit better and completely overfed from the abundant supply of meat and homemade corn tortillas. I do admit that it was difficult to understand their Spanish every now and then because I didn’t have Debi with me. It’s hard to explain but the last couple of times I was at her house Debi was my translator. This might seem absolutely absurd considering the only words Debi knows in English are “God bless you” but yes she would translate from Spanish to Spanish sometimes for me. All I can say is that God has created a special bond between us. I can only describe it as one of those extraordinary relationships where spoken words aren’t always needed to communicate. I have never met anyone who can so easily read my moods and at the same time discern my future actions and thoughts. She knows and understands me so incredibly well and I don’t understand it all because I can be a very closed off person. Like I said, I don’t understand it but I thank God because she has been a huge blessing in my life.

It took me going to Debi’s house without her to realize just how much I miss her. Debi is a fourth year student, meaning that she is in her year of practice. She is currently serving the Lord in a village in a mountain in Oaxaca. It’s going to be nearly impossible to try to explain in this blog how God created such a beautiful friendship between this American girl and a Mexican chica who thought she could never love or grow close to an American. Our friendship started two years ago in the kitchen of MITC. She was the one in charge of cleaning and what started with a couple jokes turned into a water fight and that’s when I knew I found a friend. Later I gave her a sour Warhead and told her that this candy from the States would help loosen her tongue so she could speak English better. She quickly unwrapped it and popped in her mouth only to be bitterly surprised. Our friendship which started with these practical jokes turned into a true comradeship. We have shared so many experiences together including going to Tlacotepec (yes this word took me the whole the week to learn how to say) and when we were there I was the one who ended up giving her my Pepto Bismol after she was so sure that I was the one who was going to get sick…. haha… and that’s not all that happened on that trip… She has made such an impact on my life and I can honestly say that I am a better person from knowing her. Over the past two years she has been there for me. I don’t understand how she sees things coming and I don’t even have to explain things to her before she already knows what’s wrong. For instance, how did she know that guy was lying to me? How did she know that I was going to make that decision? How did she know that I was crying? How did she read me like that? I thought I was unreadable but she sees right through me. And the beautiful thing is that she’s not American, she doesn’t speak English, she couldn’t read this Blog if she tried, she didn’t grow up with running water, and she has never stepped foot in an air-conditioned church. With that being said, we have all these differences but we have the most important thing in common; we serve the one true living God. It’s so significant to understand and at the same time so completely spellbinding to comprehend that Jesus Christ is not a white American with blue eyes and He did not die just to offer abundant life free from the punishment of sin to American citizens. Traveling in Europe and living in Mexico has made me realize that the US is not the center of the universe. America is an incredible country full of opportunities and freedom and I am proud to be an American but we must realize that our national identity doesn’t make us the chosen people of God. Our decision to repent from sin and follow Jesus makes us His people. Jesus Christ died to offer true life to people of every nation, every tribe, and every tongue. Debi and I are from different nations and of a different tongue but we both serve the Lord God Almighty and the Holy Spirit lives inside both of us and that is what makes this friendship possible. And that sweet reader is the Gospel…. and I dearly miss my sister in Christ.

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.

Rambunctious kid … Rebellious me…

Working with little munchkins is not what they call in Spanish my “forte” or the word we know as strength in English. There are two things on this Earth that you can be sure of… #1. I will never be the first or second or third or even fourth in church to raise my hand to volunteer my time and efforts to babysit kids on Mom’s day out and # 2- I’ll never be that elated girl in the room begging to hold the newborn at the sight of that little wrinkly bald headed little eyed babe enter the room. With that being said…. Deep down, I do love little kids as you can read about in my blog titled And Kelsey Sang and I do hope to have a couple miniature Brookes running around someday- my own little moldable disciples. However, give me a rebellious teenager any day over a little rambunctious five year old kid. With this preface, I will begin my story of what happened today and how God turned it on me.

My words, thoughts, and Karen’s movement from 4:00 to 5:00 today:

“Siéntate chamaca” (sit down chica)… “Vas a volverme loca” (You are going to drive me crazy)… well, that last phrase shouldn’t have been in the future tense…. She was up walking on top of the kitchen counters... She was eating jello… She was finding a glass of water… She was looking for her gummy vitamin candies… She was flipping over my poster… She was changing the subject…. The list goes on… then finally for a moment she stopped and sat Indian style on the top of the counter in front of me… the poster of the ABC’s in the middle of us… we started with A and got through to letter D when she had to get up again… She came back three minutes later with her notebook… She decided to write the letters which took forever than wanted to write them again… She was ignoring me... Yes, every now and then she would repeat the sound but it took me saying it five times for her to repeat it once…. And then after that one time of repeating the letter she wanted to go to the next letter, and it didn’t matter if she didn’t say the previous letter right…. She wanted to learn all 26 letters at once with the least amount of effort as possible…. Then after I got through to the letter F she decided it was time for another unannounced break…. My eyes trailed her little body as she walked barefoot on the counter to the stove… She plopped down and took a large spoon out of a dark pot on the stove and started licking off the black beans…. You would have thought it was raw cake batter the way she licked that sucker clean… and by the time she finished, her face and teeth were coated by a thin layer of black beans… it was quite humorous and it caused me to take out my camera and take a picture… and of course my camera started a frenzy… she wanted to take some pictures so I went ahead and let her take some and then some more and a couple more and a couple more…. You can tell by my facial expression from the last picture that the words following this picture were “Karen, dame la camara” (give me the camera).

Sweet reader, let’s just say that my numerous and stern warnings that we were not going to play a game until after she learned her alphabet was to no avail. The game was Bingo and of course this game would never have worked if she didn’t know her letters. I couldn’t seem to do anything to keep her attention for longer than 35 seconds. I finally looked down at her older sister, Erin, who was patiently sitting by my side. Our eyes met, mine silently pleading for help and hers rolling back into her head. Her shoulders shrugged as she softly spoke the following English words in her cute and irresistible accent, “My sister is crazy.” It was undeniable and also endearing how she put an extra emphasis on the word crazy as if her pronunciation added depth to the meaning. She wasn’t just crazy but craazzzyy. After all hope seemed to be lost, I came up with a different game plan. I decided that we would play Bingo even though Erin would inevitably win because she knew the alphabet as well as she knew every word to her favorite Hannah Montana song. This would then create jealousy within her little sister which would then cultivate into a strong desire to learn the alphabet. I knew I could bank on little Karen’s competiveness and jealousy just as I could count on black beans and tortillas being served for lunch. And magically it worked- Karen got upset at how her older sister knew the letters which sparked a sudden interest in her to learn the ABC’s in English. I chucked to myself as I left their apartment, thinking of how effective my little devious plan worked.

I chuckled until God interrupted my thoughts with His Holy, Higher Up, ever Humbling, Loving thoughts. And all of sudden, it was as if a light had been turned off and a red curtain pulled back…. I suddenly saw the Karen episode replay in my mind but some major roles had been changed. I, Brooke Carter (the twenty-two year old college graduate), took on the starring role of little rambunctious 5 year old Karen as I bounced barefoot on the kitchen counters, distracted by the littlest thing, unfocused as all get out, and rebellious to the core. And then The Lord Almighty, The God of Jacob, My Creator and My Father, slipped on my human flesh skin, propped Himself up on the blue stool, and began to coax me to sit down because He had something He wanted to teach me. I knew He was there just as Karen knew I was there but it was a matter of me stopping what I was doing and sitting down on the counter, Indian style, in front of my Teacher and listening to His Words. What He had wanted to teach me was not hard because a) He was going to break something as scary and big as the English language down into the ABC’s b) He had a colorful poster with pictures, a song, and a game to go along with the lesson to help me learn and c) He was going to go as slow as it took for me to comprehend each letter. But instead of submitting myself to my Teacher’s authority, I went about my own business. For instance, I was hungry so I ate some jello and black beans. I was thirsty so I went to find a glass of water. I also needed to get up again and locate my gummy vitamin candies because I hadn’t consumed them today. Clearly as you can tell, I was taking care of my needs and desires; however, I was neglecting my most vital need …. I was neglecting my one on one time with God… I wasn’t doing per say bad things and yeah I acknowledged His presence every now and then as I repeated a certain sound after He had said it the fifth time…. But I wasn’t sitting still, in front of Him, soaking in His infinite knowledge. I wasn’t watching His mouth as He pronounced the words. I wasn’t watching His eyes encouraging me to take that step and say that letter that sounded uncomfortable and weird. I wasn’t in close enough proximity where He could give me a high five after I said something right or reassuringly rub my shoulder if I said something wrong. And then my time was up, and I missed the opportunity to fully learn what He had wanted to teach me. It wasn’t His fault for He had patiently and lovingly waited for me to come to Him but I didn’t take the time out of my day and submit myself to Him to enjoy His presence and fully receive what He had to offer. I in turn, was just like that beautiful black bean stained craazzzyy little girl and the question is how many days am I like that? It took my experience today to realize that I have been missing out on God’s presence this past week… It’s funny the ways God can grab your attention… It definitely took a little rambunctious girl for me to see the rebellious girl in me.

Please stay with me a little bit longer…. I have two big questions for you…. But first you have to realize that God is in the same room as you. He is sitting at the kitchen counter waiting for you. He loves you. He wants to spend time with you. He is there. The Creator of the Universe is lovingly watching you; in fact, He is calling out to you. It is a matter of you, hearing His call, stopping what you are doing, sitting down, and receiving Him.

Questions

1. Have you ever submitted yourself to God? Have you realized yet that the one thing you are desperately searching for will not be satisfied with things of this world? Your jello, black beans, water, and candy vitamins will never be enough to keep you from stopping your carousel ride of finding fullfillment? In essence, have you ever sat down and received His love?

2.If you have received His love, are you daily spending time with God? If you are not, it doesn’t make you less of a Christian just an unnourished one. God’s presence is something unrivaled. His sweet presence is worth stopping your busy activity and sitting down on the counter. What else is there to life than knowing and being loved by God?

O God, you are my God,
earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you,
my body longs for you,
in a dry and weary land
where there is no water.
Psalms 63:1

I need your prayers

“You will be the next Beth Moore but in Mexico.” I dismissed the thought as soon as it left Sarita’s mouth. However, I did appreciate her affirmation for she was only trying to encourage me after I made the terrifying decision to be the speaker at the young women’s conference this November. Let’s just say I had been trembling since Anita took me by surprise a few hours earlier in the kitchen. We were just cooking some beans for lunch when suddenly what seemed like a normal nonchalant conversation took an unexpected turn and I had to ask her to repeat herself to make sure I understood her Spanish right…. My thoughts became sporadic (surely she was just inviting me to attend the conference and not inviting me to actually be la Conferencista). Immediately, I could feel the heat rising from the beans that were on the verge of boiling as my mind switched to panic mode, piecing together the string of Spanish words that rapidly rolled off her tongue. And there it was again .... that word “conferencista” . It was as unmistakable as the green hot sauce and it stung all the same. She looked up at me as she finished her request, eagerly awaiting my response. My first stuttering words echoed the thoughts that rushed in my mind as I said, “Anita I can’t possibly be the speaker.” Did she really think about this question before she asked me? She asked the girl who still struggles on a daily basis to communicate to stand up in front of a group and share God's Word… This place is crawling with seminary students perfectly capable of doing an outstanding job not to mention their native tongue is in fact Spanish. Then right on cue, images flashed in my mind, one after another, turning my stomach as the devil pressed rewind on that infamous tape of my past sins. It was as if the devil had the perfect game plan. First, he started with reminding of my weakness and uncovering my deep insecurity concerning my Spanish and then topping it off with making me feel completely incompetent by jogging my memory of every past failure and rebellion. I felt sick to my stomach with these horrendous past reminders coupled with the sudden pressure. I stared down at the pot of black beans in front of me, wishing to dive in head-first and hide from everything. Instead, I chose to escape through the back door of the kitchen, welcoming the gush of fresh air behind the screen door... It never felt so good to breathe. Then the tape of my shortcomings was paused by the interuption of the ever recognizable Garth Brooks’ song “Shameless”. Hmm… of course I thought… It was a sweet reminder of my self-proclaimed theme song. Let's just say that six years ago, this song played on the radio and the words took on a different twist for me. I listened to the song as if Garth Brooks’ voice was my own and I was singing to God. Ever since this moment, this song has been something very special between God and me. You should listen to the song this way; it is very powerful and a picture of the desired intimacy we should want to have with God. I love it. And God knew it was just what I needed. Bottom line, I am in love with God and I am willing to do almost anything for Him even if it means making a fool of myself. And the thing is that I know God will not make a fool of me, no matter how paralyzing the feeling is of this speaking engagement......

..... This conversation with Anita took place two weeks ago. Today at lunch she gave the students (the ones leaving for the weekend to go to their assigned churches) the invitations for the conference. It was a very surreal and humbling feeling to look down at this invitation and see my name listed as the conference speaker and to think these pink papers were about to be spread in the surrounding cities and towns of Cordoba. Please pray for me as I am preparing myself for one of the biggest steps of faith I have ever taken. I honestly don’t have a clue as to what I am doing. Please pray that God would show me what to talk about and use me as His mouthpiece so that hearts would be healed, sins uncovered, and souls saved on November 7. Thank you my sweet reader. John 15:5





Click on this link to listen to "Shameless" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YdDD8hSiKZs


"Shameless" Garth Brooks

Well I'm shameless when it comes to loving you
I'll do anything you want me to I'll do anything at all.
And I'm standing here for all the world to see
Oh baby, that's what's left of me
Don't have very far to fall


You know now I'm not a man who's ever been
Insecure about the world I've been living in.
I don't break easy,


I have my pride
But if you need to be satisfied I'm shameless, oh honey,
I don't have a prayer
Every time I see you standin' there I go down upon my knees.
And I'm changing, swore I'd never compromise
Oh, but you convinced me otherwiseI'll do anything you please.


You see in all my life I've never found
What I couldn't resist, what I couldn't turn down
I could walk away from anyone
I ever knew But I can't walk away from you.
I have never let anything have this much control over me


I work too hard to call my life my own
And I've made myself a world and it's worked so perfectly
But it's your world now,
I can't refuse I've never had so much to lose
Oh, I'm shameless.


You know it should be easy for a man who's strong
To say he's sorry or admit when he's wrong
I've never lost anything I've ever missed
But I've never been in love like this.
God It's out of my hands.


I'm shameless,
I don't have the power now
I don't want it anyhow


So I got to let it go.
Oh, I'm shameless, shameless as a man can be
You can make a total fool of me
I just wanted to you to know.


Oh, I'm shameless,
I just wanted you to know
Oh, I'm shameless,
Oh, I'm down on my knees shameless

And Kelsey sang

It was hot… I am talking about the kind of hot that motivates you to share the gospel from the sheer horror of knowing that Hell is real and worse than the current environment you find yourself in. And I forgot my deodorant… The wet stickiness under my armpits reminded me of those days in middle school when I first started wearing deodorant. I’m sure you remember your first wearing deodorant days and the unmistakable regret that welled inside you on those days you realized you forgot to apply that sweat protector. I painfully reminisced of how I would fake sick just to go home because of my impending smell. Now being a veteran deodorant wearer, I couldn’t remember the last time I forgot my deodorant and it seemed paradoxically fitting that here I was in a village in a mountain in Mexico on the seemingly hottest day without my Mitchumen antiperspirant. Not only was I reeking of body odor, but also my body was tired and achy from the work that I had been doing in the kitchen the previous week. My mind was tired from teaching 10 classes and translating; I was at the point of speaking English but with Spanish grammar. Let’s just say that “She is a girl pretty” sounds strange. My feet were swollen and reminding me of that ever familiar dulling pain. I was sitting on a wooden pew in the middle of seven Mexican children who chattered away in their Indian dialect when I glanced up at the ceiling and admitted “Father, I am tired. I don’t think I have anything left to give.” I was at the end of myself. But something happened. Something made me come alive and conquer my physical exhaustion and mental tiredness. All I can say is that Kelsey sang. Yes, Kelsey sang. Man, did she ever sing. I have never met anyone quite like her who was so musically talented and so consecrated to God at the same time. And that is all it took. She played her guitar and sang. Suddenly the heat within the church transitioned from something unbearably uncomfortable to the warmth and protection of a winter coat in a storm. The sweat on my face turned into tears making their way down the curves of my cheeks. The disarray of words and grammatical rules of two languages that were mixed in an alphabet soup in my mind formed words in comprehensible ways. Peace and strength resonated within my body to the notes that eloquently and unashamedly flowed from Kelsey’s mouth. And I joined her as we sang praises to our King in this little church in some village in a mountain in Mexico.

And then the little girl, who had been sitting in my lap since we started the VBS, looked up at me with those beautiful mesmerizing brown eyes and every inconvenience, sore muscle, and discouraged thought disappeared as she tugged and pulled on the loose strands that had fallen on my face. I inclined my head, giving her little fingers the advantage to my rebellious strands of hair. In this moment in some village in a mountain in Mexico, God spoke straight to my heart and evoked within me His love for humanity. The people that we coin as “the lost” became more than terminology or some abstract concept that we Christians throw around at Bible studies or mission conferences and going to the nations became more than a command. It became a little five year girl. Lost now had a name; it was Arelia. Lost had a smell and it was a mixture of dirt, sweat, and tortillas. Lost had a soft curious touch. The nations had a heartbeat and I could feel it rhythmically pulsate against my chest. Lost liked blueberry lollypops and in fact her tongue and lips were stained blue. So many times we think of Jesus’ command to share our faith as some kind of burden. Let me disagree with you completely. To forsake the so called American Dream, to give up your comfortable lifestyle of instant macaroni and cheese, to leave your family and everything you have ever known is hard and challenging but something happened in my heart as I gazed through those little fingers that were playing with my hair to those precious brown eyes…. In those eyes I found the purpose of my life… I was born to tell Lost that Jesus loves her… And whispering these three small words “Jésus te ama” in Arelia’s ear made everything I left behind in the land of hamburgers and movie stars no sacrifice at all. To share your faith is no burden at all but a privilege, great joy, and something I take very seriously. I know everyone reading this blog has a little Arelia in your life. You don’t have to go to a foreign country to find her. She might look different, talk different, act different, than my Lost but I bet if you look close enough you can find that same hunger and curiosity in your Arelia’s eyes that I saw. What is stopping you from whispering those same three little words in her ear? What is blocking you from being synced with the compassion God has for humankind? ... And Kelsey sang. It wasn’t her amazing voice, skillful hands, or the words of the song that awakened my spirit but it was the power behind the song; moreover, it was the God of the song. I know life is hard and your environment might not be conducive but I pray that your spirit would hear Kelsey’s song and first that you would rejoice in Our Maker and then that you would look at the little girl on your lap with Jesus’ eyes. Do you hear the music? Have you looked around? Believe me, lost is not some religious term. Lost has a name, a smell, a heartbeat….

El Viaje de la Facultad

This past Friday we loaded the buses and headed to Casitas, Veracruz for a weekend staff and family retreat. I was beyond excited about going to the beach, because I had missed the annual family vacation to Galveston this past summer. I was stoked when Dan told me that I was going with them and also very curious to see what it would be like to go on vacation with these great men and women of the faith. During the ride, most slept while I listened to a podcast of Dr. David Platt from the Brook Hills Church in Alabama (I definitely recommend listening to him if you are into podcasts). We arrived at our hotel which was right on beach and headed straight to the white sand. Man, I loved the beach… The water was so beautiful and blue… And I loved watching the waves… And I loved standing on the seashore, letting the water come up and cover my toes only to digress, as if the water had fingers that were teasing me to come in…. Dan made it clear that our agenda was in fact no agenda at all…. We were to relax and have fun and this we did with great joy…. We ate like kings and queens at each meal with a feast of Mexican finest cuisine including deserts with each meal… The food was utterly delicious, the fellowship couldn’t have been better, the sand was hot to the feet, the water was cool to the skin, the sun was beaming down making the ocean look like “a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue plain”*, the palm trees blew in the wind, and the continuous roar of the waves entranced one to a deep peaceful sleep. As I hope that you can conjure up from my imagery, the weekend was nothing less than wonderful and refreshing. The verse that Joaquin used in a devotional Saturday morning was the following found in Psalms 34:8, “Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him.” And yes this past weekend we tasted, some reluctantly, the saline of the sea and although salty to the taste, it was good to the soul. And yes this past weekend, we saw the majesty of the Lord, as we arose, once again some reluctantly (due to the time), to see the incomparable beauty of a sunrise over a vast ocean with an endless horizon. Taste and see that the Lord is good today. You might not be surrounded by a breathtaking landscape but God is just as magnificent and His taste just as addictingly sweet as it was there as it is where you are. Enjoy God today.

News about the school: All the 1st, 2nd and 3rd year students are arriving today!!!!! Classes begin tomorrow! All the 4th year students will arrive Saturday to find out their placements for the year. We already have six new 1st year students. Please keep all of them in your prayers. Thank you. To God be the Glory.


* Incubus “Wish you were here”

Vale la Pena ... if you read any of my blogs, read this one

The Dash in the Middle

Her laughter broke the short-lived silence and peaked not only my own curiosity but also the curiosity of my other roommate Niche and I wondered how a little girl of Karen’s stature could produce such a hearty boisterous laugh. She definitely captured our attention and we waited with much anticipation for her to reveal the reason behind her sudden outburst... (background info: they had just seen pictures of my sorority house and of my trip to Europe and Cuba when she started chuckling uncontrollably)... She smiled, showing off two rows of sparkling straight white teeth, and then proceeded, verbalizing her hidden thoughts “Well, she said, I was just thinking… Brooke, you were just telling us all about your adventures. You have been all over the world and it’s funny because ahora tu estás aquí con nosotras en México durmiendo con las cucarachas”…. Are you ready for the translation, my sweet monolingual reader?? …. She said, “it’s funny because now you are here with us in Mexico, sleeping with the cockroaches.” At this, I’m sure we awoke Cordoba with the laugher that spilled out of our dormitory into the streets. Concerning the cucarachas, the past two nights we have slept with the lights on because of our fear of these little creatures… (and I must stop right here to tell you that I just had to kill one climbing up the wall next to my bed even as I am writing this… haha) … We laughed at the absurdity of me being here. I had been all over the world and I had just lived 2 years in a mansion by a lake (the Chi Omega house) and now I am sleeping in a dusty cockroach infested dorm room with no air conditioning. Why the heck would anyone in their right mind make the adjustment that I made? The memories are fresh on my mind of waking up to the smell of bacon and biscuits or returning from class to a squeaky clean room. Mrs. Dorothy, our cook, prepared our every meal including Louisiana’s classics and my favorites: jambalaya, gumbo, and red beans and rice while sweet Mrs. Tic from Vietnam vacuumed our rooms, took out the trash, and cleaned the bathrooms. Ok so back to the question, why the heck am I in Mexico? Was it hard to trade in the colossal Doric white-washed columns for bunk beds? Or Louisiana cuisine for empanadas and gorditas? Or the extravagant American lifestyle for a less extravagant missionary lifestyle? As they ask in Spanish, ¿Vale la pena? (Is it worth the price?) Believe me, sweet friend, I have answers to all these questions and now I hope to have your attention.

I think the best way to answer these questions would be to explain why the title of my blog is “The Dash in the Middle.” What in the world could I possibly be referring to? Any guesses? How I would love to engage in conversation with you and to hear your reactions and thoughts. I must confess I often wonder who you are, reading these words of mine. If you have a question about what I am about to say I would love to hear from you, one of my favorites things is to talk about faith. Ok let's begin- the dash in the middle refers to the little dash mark in between the year you are born and the year you die on your tombstone. Ah, you see it now? Yes, let’s talk about death for a minute in order to talk about true and satisfying life, the kind of life that vale la pena (it’s worth the price) of getting out of the bed in the morning. Do you know what I am talking about? Are you experiencing this kind of life? If you are not, let me let you in on a little secret, which in fact is no secret whatsoever for many and many years millions of people have wholeheartedly to the point of death accepted this secret (which once again is no secret)... Ok, here we go… if you have ever wondered why I am the way that I am …. This will explain it…

First of all…. Let me tell you that there is a God in this jacked up world and He knows your name. In fact, He loves you more than you know but there is something that separates you from Him, which is yourself…. You and I are imperfect human beings. Let’s just say that your mom didn’t have to teach you do something mischievous or bad when you were little. Am I right? We were born knowing how to get ourselves in trouble and desiring whatever this trouble promised. For example, although my mom told me no cookies before dinner, I put my hand in that jar, desiring the taste of those chunky chocolate chips more than wanting to obey her command. Or it took your dad saying “don’t touch the stove” to make you put your little grubby hand on that hot surface. You know what I am talking about. We were all born with this rebellious nature, it is our instinct because it was the path chosen for us by our forefathers, Adam and Eve but as some of you know the Bible doesn’t end with the story of them eating the forbidden fruit. Genesis is only the first book in the Bible. There are a lot more books but I will give you the spark notes for right now… So our nature = sin (any action that goes against God) and God is perfect without sin so therefore imagine a chasm separating you from God. Something had to be done because as I said, God loves you more than you could imagine so He provided a way for us to get to Him through sending His Son Jesus Christ to this earth to die on a cross and to conquer to death. This is the reason Jesus Christ came to the earth, He came to take on your punishment for sin thus offering you a second chance… and this second chance includes a real personal relationship and eternal life with God if you so choose. So what exactly am I trying to tell you in other words? …

This: The Creator of the Universe wants a relationship with you. You were created to know Him and be loved by Him. I can help you understand this way: We were created with a God-shaped hole in our heart and we live life trying to fill it with so many other things. For example, I have seen so many people try to fill it with religion, alcohol, sex, food, other’s approval, and many other things but all these things never completely satisfy but leave the person wanting/ needing more. Jesus will completely satisfy your God-given needs and cravings. He will give you purpose and a reason to get out of bed in the morning. This relationship with Christ, if you chose to accept Him, starts with you giving your life over to Him. Repent of your sins and acknowledge that you need a Savior and that you want this life that Jesus offers. Salvation is an internal transformation. It’s you giving up your life to follow Christ. So you might ask, Brooke, how do I do this... You must not just intellectually believe this but actually receive Christ by personal invitation. Receiving Christ involves you repenting of your sins and turning to God and trusting Christ to come into your life and forgive you of your sins.

Sweet friends, I made this decision… this decision to accept Christ into my life…. this decision to become a Christian… this decision to follow Jesus… this decision to give my life over to Him….. awhile back when I was preteen. I remember someone explaining these same truths to me and all of sudden my eyes were full of tears because I wanted to be reconciled with God, I wanted to taste His sweet forgiveness, and I wanted the life that He offers. I didn’t understand everything but I knew enough to make that decision, and I wholehearted prayed to God, giving Him the control of my life. And I am here to tell you that this is the most important and best decision you could ever make. It’s not about religion but about a true meaningful relationship with God and it starts with you giving Him your All because He gave His all for you. And I don’t want to fool you into thinking that your life will be a piece of cake once you become a Christian because it’s not BUT you have someone who will never leave your side and you don’t fear death because you will forevermore be in the presence of God. God has changed my life and He can do the same for you, in fact, He wants to do the same for you. Give Him your heart, because then it couldn’t be in safer hands.

Therefore; my life’s message and plea to you is the following:

The majority of us will have less than a hundred years of life on this earth. Make your short dash in the middle count. After you experience the forgiveness of Christ and begin to get to know Him, I think you would be more than willing to do anything for Him…. Sleeping with cockroaches in order to tell others of the way He has transformed your life becomes nothing… to tell others what I have told you: that there is real abundant life in Jesus Christ makes everything you go through….. completely… vale la pena ….

… for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God…. Romans 3:23

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 6:23

But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8

For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” John 14:6

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith- and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God. Ephesians 2:8

Yet to all who received Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God- children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God. John 1:12-13

Spring Cleaning and Mexican BBQ

Everyone is doing well here at the Ghost Town. There still isn’t much to do with all the students and still some faculty on vacation. This past week, gracias a Dios, there were 2 events that interrupted by boredom here at the school. Dan decided to start spring cleaning early so Mary, Armando, Marcos, and I helped him clean out his office (Chuy came very conveniently at the end of the process hahaha… no she was busy making us some delicious food in the kitchen and plus she told me that the disarray of dusty books and other nostalgic things that covered the living room stressed her out tremendously to the point of scaring her). The amount of books and things that came out of his office was astonishing and the fact that almost every book was a gift given to him was also an impressive fact to swallow. My job was to dust the books which for me took longer than a normal person given my insatiable thirst for a good book. I carefully investigated each hardback that crossed my hands, putting some aside to feed my own appetite and making a mental list of others to come back for later. I came across some very interesting things including Dan’s dad’s diploma from LSU and as you can see in the above pictures, I found an old picture of our beloved Pastor Larry Williams when he was younger. In this picture, he is standing next to Dan’s dad. Also, you can see Marcos taking a siesta as we were busy cleaning away... definitely caught on camera… haha

The other pictures that you see are not a burial of someone but a barbeque… Mexican style. Debe’s family invited the whole MITC faculty and their families to come enjoy Puebla’s finest foods…. Barbacoa (lamb meat) and mole poblano… I had already had the blessing of enjoying these yummy foods on my visit to Debe’s house two weeks ago and more so I had the privilege of meeting and getting to know her family. At ten in the morning on Friday, all the professors and family members met in the breezeway to find out their riding arrangements. I rode in Dan’s suburban with hermana Chely, hermano Joaquin, hermano Juanito, his wife, and Marcos. The ride was so much fun with Joaquin’s endless stream of jokes, Marcos’ laughter, and Dan’s commentary. After a little more than two hours, we arrived at our destination, Rancho Chico, Puebla. As soon as I stepped out of that black SUV, I was greeted with a homecoming of an arrival including big smiles, hugs, and kisses on the check. Everyone laughed as they ran their fingers through the purple strands in my hair and we reminisced about that crazy night that Nanci, Milka, and I colored our hair for no other reason than being able to and crazy enough to do it. It was so good to see everyone again and to have my Cordoba family with me made it even better. I felt a sense of pride as I helped Debe show everyone around her house and town. When the tour was done, Dan gave a little devotion and then we headed to BBQ pit, which was no pit but actually huge mounds of dirt in the ground. I was completely clueless as to what we were doing until I asked someone why a couple guys started ferociously digging up the mounds and then it was explained to me that the borrego or the meat of the lamb was buried underneath these mounds of dirt. Layer by layer these guys uncovered our meal. It was so interesting to watch and you can see the process through the pictures and also see Marcos and his self-proclaimed expression “dame borrego (give me lamb)” on his face. Finally, they reached the lamb meat and hoisted it from the pit and thus started the feast. We also ate mole poblano which is the other food that is on my plate. I loved everything. The lamb meat was very tough but it was so good wrapped up in a homemade tortilla with some salt and salsa. And when I had finished stuffing my face, Danny, Debe’s brother, brought me another plate full of meat. I tried to decline but he wouldn’t hear it and Debe’s dad pitched in, telling me that I had to eat some more…. TO say I was stuffed, would be an understatement. I don’t think I have ever eaten so much in my life but at least I really liked what I was eating… we all left happy and a little bigger…. And that pretty much sums up this past week…. More to come later….