Sunday, November 25, 2012

"You Smell Like Mexico"

November fifteenth came all too quickly. I couldn't believe that three months had already come and gone, and I found myself sitting on the plane longing to be in two places at once. But I was zooming at five hundred miles an hour towards home, I was literally being thrown into America. Entering Chicago was the strangest feeling, everyone was white. Every sound, word, and letter was English. Every smell was so strong and overpowering- even though each one was familiar and known to me. The food was so different, it honestly tasted gross, even though I had been eating the same thing my whole life. I finally understood what a friend meant when he said "English when spoken feels like vomiting." After spending three months completely immersed in Spanish, English was just short of pleasant. Sitting in the Chicago airport for the two hour layover was probably the hardest part of the trip. I believe all of this is something called culture shock. It very much exists and is one of the most difficult things I have done in my life.

I arrived home at about 1:30 in the morning tired and worn, but stronger, and in my family's arms at last. My little sisters looked so big and grown up, just seeing them showed me how long I had really been gone. Up to this day (about 10 days later) it is still hard to be separated from my family in Mexico. Whenever I look at the clock, not only am I looking to see what time it is, but looking to see what everyone at the Ranch is doing. Are they just getting up? Are they singing the daily worship song all together? Are they stacked up on the slide listening to Julie read during recess? Are they counting up their points they earned that week to shop at their "store"? Is Mireya, Jorge, and Joel there? What are they doing? Adrian and Vero? Rosa? Being completely detached from the day to day life there is difficult. But it has surprised me how fast I have been able to return to my former routines and life in the States. Some things here have been really difficult to get used to again, but for the most part God has given me a smooth transition. I feel changed though. Not sure exactly how, but God did a lot in me while I was there. One of the first changes in me that my family noticed was a scent I brought home. My mom and little sisters continue to say "You smell like Mexico."

Pictures from my last futbol game



Pictures from our impromptu after-party 







 

Monday, November 19, 2012

Blessed be HIS name

Wednesday, November 14, 2012.

Lying in my bed, I woke up at 5:30 in the morning. I hadn't been able to sleep well the past 3 nights, and once again, I had to wipe tears from my eyes before I was even out of bed. Thoughts filled my mind as I laid there listening to my two missionary sisters in their deep sleep. This is really it. My last full day. The recital- oh so much to still prepare for it. All these faces that look at me and say, No te vayas. Don't go. I tell them I must go, but it is so, so hard. And my family, what are they doing? Are they ready for my return? How will my transition take place? Will they be the same family that I had left three months ago? I couldn't take all the rushing thoughts anymore, so I rose and began my day. I went down to the kitchen and began preparing for cooking paczkis (Polish doughnuts.) Mikayla and I had agreed to meet about 6:30 and make a couple batches of doughnuts for the Recital that evening. I had no idea what food Julie was going have, so Mikayla and I decided to double the recipe. Three hours later we had made over 80 doughnuts. As soon as we had finished we separated and went our own ways for the rest of the morning. Mikayla went to school, and I began to wander around aimlessly trying to keep my heart and mind under control.

At my house in Michigan, there is this old swing that hangs from a Walnut tree. It has been there since my oldest brother put it up when he was young. It is one of my favorite spots and anytime that I need to pray, or cry, or just be, that is where I go. Being in Mexico at the time, I didn't have that spot, but there was one very similar at the park. Down I went. The three green swings hung from a metal frame right next to a hill covered in purple, yellow, and white wild flowers. The sun was shinning, and I could feel its rays sinking into my skin. I sat and swung for a good while, just praying to God for the day, the recital, the way home, and my broken heart. I tried to hold the tears back, but how could I? I was about to leave the life I had just gotten to know, and the people, how was I too say goodbye? Then God reminded me of a song,

Blessed Be Your Name


In the land that is plentiful
 Where Your streams of abundance flow
                   Blessed be Your name

Blessed Be Your name

When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness

Blessed Be Your name


Every blessing You pour out

I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
\

  Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering 
Blessed be Your name
You give and take away

You give and take away
     My heart will choose to say
                                            Lord, blessed be Your name

There was nothing else to do than sing these words in a prayer to God. As memories of the past three months played through my mind, I was grateful for everything that God had given me. He was to be praised; for every laugh, tear, and moment. I still had a whole day to live there, so I stood up ready to continue on the path God had laid in front of me. One step at a time I will follow Him. And the next step was to walk up the hill to the house and finish what God had given me, I had a recital to direct. 

I had spent the rest of the morning folding programs and translating introductions into Spanish with Jorge. Geesh that was a task. But we completed just in time for lunch! As soon as lunch was over a group of us headed up to the school to begin setting up for the recital. 

Everyone was helping. It was so cool to see so many people in support of the recital.

Setting up the refreshments table

Using Christmas lights really made it look special!
 Everything was beautiful. All the children were dressed so nicely and our special visitors had arrived. I was so nervous and excited, it felt just like my first recital. But I was surrounded by my new family and loving friends, I knew that the evening was going to be one to remember. Enjoy the few pictures below!






























It was truly the best recital of my life. All of the kids played wonderfully, and all the special artists did beautifully as well. I had ordered a personally engraved medal for each of them. They all loved them! The younger ones didn't take their's off all night, and about 6 of them had them on again the following day. It was so special to see their smiles as they received theirs at the end of the night. I miss these people greatly and pray to return someday. I will forever hold this day in my heart~ blessed be the name of the Lord.


















Sunday, November 4, 2012

Beautifully Painful

My "youth group" but they are so much more than that to me
Knowing that I am returning home in a short 12 days isn't something as simple as bittersweet. It's not just wanting to be here, and wanting to be home. It's not just having family here, and having family there. It goes so much deeper than this. Following God is hard. Bottom line. He never promised it would be easy, and the longer I follow him and the more I love him, the more I find this out.
My family :)



Back in August when I was raising money, packing my bags, and saying one hundred goodbyes, my heart hurt. Being sixteen and moving to Mexico, I was scared to death. Having to say goodbye one at a time to everyone I call my family, seeing the sadness in their eyes, it broke me. Not for my sake of leaving, but for everyone I was leaving behind. Knowing that God had called me to Mexico for the three months ahead, I was able to step on that airplane and fly 2000 miles away. It was beautifully painful.

My friends here- but we are more like sisters

While I have lived here, I have experienced everything from indescribable joy, to unspeakable sorrow. The times spent in grueling lessons, the aggravating times in English class, and the laughs in spontaneous games of water fights. The discouraging feelings of being wordless; having to watch others be joyous in conversation while sitting back and being silent. The ever so wonderful times of true friendship, movie nights, and the drive to church. The times sitting at the piano- new souls met, fingers danced, tears fell, laughs made, conversations conversed, frustrations played, and talents found. Every cry to God, every smile creased, and every step taken has been beautifully painful.

Now, looking at my last week and a half here is hard. I've known this whole time that it would have to come to an end- but I didn't think it would come this fast. I'm feeling the same thing that I felt in August, except this time, I don't know if I will ever be back here. Knowing I'll have to say goodbye very soon is scary, it hurts. At the same time though, I look forward to what God holds for me back at home. I look forward to being reunited with my family and friends. I look forward to school, and college, and beyond. It's not that I don't want to leave, I just don't want to say goodbye. It's beautifully painful.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

The Power of God- Through Teaching and Through Friendships

I am beginning to understand that I am here to teach more than piano. Some lessons are so difficult. I think mainly because a few of the kids would rather be playing Wii, or playing outside rather than playing piano. This brings out bad attitudes. And when the students begins to pout, or doesn't even try to do what we are working on, no progress can be make. There is no use on forcing them to do it, because there is no want to learn. No one is going to learn anything unless they have a want to learn it, and they certainly are not going to retain it, unless there is a want. Now, a want doesn't have to be exactly a want to learn piano, it simply needs to be a want to accomplish a task that has been placed in front of them. A want to do what they're told (for none of them have the option to learn piano, by Julie, all of them take lessons), and a want to do something well- whether they like it or not. Life is full of these tasks. When the students begins to show disregard for piano, that's when I completely stop teaching piano. And that's when I start teaching whatever God lays on my heart in that second. It may be diligence, perseverance, work ethic, obedience, you name, I've probably covered it! I'll be honest, these lessons can be brutally painful. I think I've had a lesson go for close to an hour and a half which a normal lesson is 30 minutes. But! God has given me much patience! I thank and praise Him, whether my lessons are getting to the kids or not. I was almost going to type "and don't get me wrong, the good lessons far out weigh the bad." But than I thought about that, and it contradicts everything I just said. All of my lessons are good, and for the glory of God. Whether my student is playing beautiful minuets or just sitting and waiting for me to give in, I preserver and pray God would use even just one thing from that lesson to impact their lives.

Being a missionary here, and living 24/7 with two other missionary women, there is a bond that connects all three of us. Sometimes, a day will be just too much, not for any particular reason, and one of us will brake down. We can't explain it, we don't know if it was the hard class we had to teach, if it was feelings of homesickness, if it is the stress of having multiple things to accomplish everyday, if it was seeing all the brokenness on the side of the streets, it could even be joy or happiness we don't know. But everything just hits and collides at once. Creating unstoppable tears. And even when the weeping young woman of God doesn't understand, the other two still do. It's like, we are all here together, we can't explain what we are going through or what we are learning separately, but we still get each other. It's an understanding and friendship only God can give. Thank you Lord, for these missionary sisters.

This week, we were blessed to have two of Vicky's friends come and serve for a week. They both shared our room, so all five of us were a little cramped in here. But it gave us joyous times as we got to know each other by talking and laughing in the evenings. Laiza and Jackie spent their week here helping in the school, playing with the kids, teaching guitar lessons, and helping with chores. Then to top off the week, they prepared a theatrical with the kids! Friday night they preformed "Abraham." They made costumes, and entire set with curtains and props, a dialog and acting! It was so fun to watch the children, and I believe they had fun as well. Sadly, we had to say goodbye to our two knew friends today, as they had to return to their Seminary school here in Mexico. It was fun getting to know them, and Jackie gave me hope and encouragement of learning Spanish. She is originally from Mexico, but has lived in the States for two years, and so she has learned English. She speaks it so well! It gives me hope to someday speak Spanish they way she speaks English.

Here are some pictures of my Missionary Sisters and our two new friends! Enjoy!

 Vicky and I. Vicky is a seminary student that is completing her course by serving here for a year. She is such a blessing to have in my life. She only speaks Spanish, so that is a barrier for our friendship, but we find many other ways to communicate. And, I am getting better at speaking/understanding Spanish.
A picture from recess. Back row: Mireya, Mikayla, Angie, Caleb, Vicky. Front row: Ruth, Dani, Carolina, David. Mireya is our head teacher in the school. She is so sweet, I enjoy her friendship. She willingly helps me with Spanish, anytime she sees me studying, she will come over an help me, no matter what she was previously doing. She is Godly and wants to serve. Her and her son, Joel, come three times a week to teach school and Joel comes to attend school. On Fridays, her other son, Jorge, comes to study as well.


  
These were our two guests this week! Laiza and Jackie. I thoroughly enjoyed having them around and will greatly miss them.



Mikayla and I :)

Monday, September 24, 2012

Whispers from God

Sometimes, like now, it feels as though I'm in a movie. I'm sitting in the kitchen feeling the cool breeze coming through the always opened doors, out the window I see rolling hills, and I hear a strange language coming out of the darkened people. As we drive in the crowded van to and from various places, I see busy streets, lots of taco restaurants, and broken homes. And that's when I realize this not a movie, this is not a dream, this is reality. I am actually living in Mexico, the place I'm calling "home" (in quotation due to the fact that I only consider one place my home) during these weeks, is on a mountainside, closer to Brazil than to my home.  And I have the opportunity to touch the results of broken homes. God has given me 18 sets of dusted fingers to teach music to, and four little minds to teach English to. What is this family going to remember when my time here is over? I want to accomplish everything God has for me here at this time, without worrying about the future, or what happens when I return home.
Being here "on my own" for this time as got me thinking that I'm growing up. I know, I know, I'm sixteen, and I have plenty of time to "grow up." But there's certain things that I can not control when they decided to mature. Like my heart, mind, and soul, when God teaches them, I can't just ignore Him and say "Sorry, God, I'm to young to grow up!" . College, ministry, school, music, all take up my extra thoughts, and it is scary knowing that I'm going to have to face these decisions one by one when I return home.The days of my youth are passing, but I thank my Lord that I will ever be able to entertain the spirit of my youth I can't say it enough, God is good. Even 1,800 miles away, God still uses my Pastor's messages to speak on what I need to hear. My Church family is always ready to listen and help, my family is on the other end of the phone, and God is just a whisper away.

Thank you for all your prayers and encouragement, you'll never know how much it means to me.

Some pictures from this week:






Saturday, September 8, 2012

Being a missionary is hard.

There are all these children looking up at me and observing my life every day, I'm trying to learn how to teach piano in Spanish, I'm trying to learn how to just speak Spanish, and keeping up on my own school studies. Missing my family and friends, and upholding friendships with everyone here. Cheese that tastes funny, clothes that always feel damp, and cold showers. And on top of all this, God is working quite diligently on my own heart and life.

But you know what?

If God hand picked me to serve here, then these are not complaints, but praises. If this is all that I have to "suffer" then so be it! God gives strength daily, so I don't have to be worried about being "able." Stephen was stoned, the Apostles (among many others) were executed, John Bunyan was sentenced to prison, John Elliot was speared, all this for something called the Gospel. And the whole time they were being persecuted, they were praising God that he thought them worthy to suffer such things.

"God doesn't call the equipped, he equips the called" ~Unknown

"If any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of God; if any man minister, let him do it as the ability which God giveth: that God in all things may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom be praise and dominion for ever and ever. Amen." 1 Peter 4:11

I'm finding out, that even though at times it is hard to serve here, all the little "sufferings" are completely worth it. Every time that I say the wrong thing in Spanish all the kids laugh and laugh, they think it's so funny. That's okay though because it allows me to laugh with them. God is good, and he takes care of his people.

"The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together. For I reckon that the sufferings of the present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." Romans 8:16-18