August 2006

Just One Week

There are 52 weeks in a year. A person living to age 75 will have 3,900 weeks. So, what can the significance of just one week be? A mission trip with Pasos de Fe generally lasts just one week. Can something so important, so profound happen during someone’s experience here that one week can change them?

Below are some responses to this issue. Read them and feel how God used one week here on the border in the lives of these people.

Michelle Couch, housewife and mother, Downers Grove, Illinois

Heading home from the mission trip … wow! What an experience! I am so thankful to God that He touched me afresh this week in Juarez—even more deeply than I could have ever imagined or hoped for. God, you are awesome! You are big! You are powerful! You are sovereign! You are worthy of all of my praise, honor and thanksgiving!

As my first mission trip was quickly approaching, I was trying really hard to get out of it. Even though I was a committed Christian, I have probably never been further from God in my life ... due to my own rebellion in certain areas of my life. I wouldn’t have been surprised if God had finally lost His patience and completely given up on me. But, as we all know, He is ever-faithful and patient!

Upon arriving in Juarez, I already felt God gently poking my heart. Yes God, I’m here, despite all attempts not to come on this trip and to avoid meeting with You. Even though I don’t want to be here, obviously you want me here for a purpose. Almost immediately, God revealed a verse to me from James 4:8: “Come near to God and He will come near to you.” I couldn’t avoid coming near to God in this very special, all but hidden place on earth. He lives in everyone I crossed paths with. From Todd and Jaime, our coordinators, to Manuel and his sons, Pastor Balthazar, Philipe, Marta, Trinidad and all the rest … their lives are God! They take every opportunity to talk about and glorify God that arises. And because of their close walk with God, everything they do is Spirit-driven. The joy emanating from Pastor Balthazar as he “preached” to me about creation was undeniable God-inspired. The joy bubbling from inside Jaime as he greeted his wife and children at the Christian Family Center one afternoon was undeniably Christ within him! The Spirit moving in the worship service at Verdad Y Salvacion (even though I didn’t understand one single word) gives me this chills to even think about. I am so thankful to God for these encounters and experiences in Juarez!

What struck me the most was how these people that have so little materialistically have so much in Christ, while people at home have so much materialistically and yet are never really challenged to truly trust and rely on God for every provision. My life has drastically changed. This eye-opening, Spirit-filling experience has caused me to rededicate my life to Christ and to trust, obey and submit to him daily. Praise God for his grace and mercy which are new every morning!

Rick Carus, General Executive Grace Presbytery, Dallas, Texas

From the moment that I arrived in Ciudad Juarez I found myself in the middle of an amazing experience. It was an experience of partnership—of working, learning, and sharing life together with strangers who quickly became part of our family, brothers and sisters in Christ. As we shared experiences and worshiped each night, I marveled at the way that we all shared so openly. The things of faith so easily transcended cultural and language differences.

Words cannot fully describe the experience, but somehow I feel that I am a different person because of my experiences with Pasos de Fe. When I returned for a visit earlier this year, and again this past summer, I truly felt like I was coming home to a place, a people, and a ministry that has become very much a part of me and the young people whom I serve.

Ken Meisner, Chaplain, Buena Vista University, Storm Lake, Iowa

I didn’t know what to expect as we crossed the border to Juarez from El Paso, Texas. Traveling down the southern slope of the city into a sea of lights that blanketed the horizon caused a bit of apprehension in my gut, plus an element of anxiety for my soul. Just a week before I had received an envelope from a family member stuffed with 16 news articles headlining the deaths of over 300 young women, all murdered in the streets of this border town since 1996. Now, as I travel into this strange city responsible for these 16 young men and women, it is my hope that the portion of faith I hold would cause my fear to pass.

Escorted by Presbyterian Border Ministry missionary, Todd Reinschmidt, our caravan of three vehicles snaked through the busy corridors of this Mexican city and ventured into Verdad y Fe neighborhood. The streets quickly turned into rocky pathways and the city lights became extremely sparse. As we crammed all the vans into the mission courtyard the imposing gates were chained and locked behind us. Sounds of the streets echoed throughout the darkness, dogs howled, and the heavy bass beat of Latin music reminded me of past visits south of the border. There was a rich, spicy aroma cutting through the dusty, yet crisp air. It wasn’t long before we were at the banquet table welcomed by the small faith community, the pastor and his extended family, who welcomed us to their home for the week. The hospitality was awesome as 50 people packed into a room made for 30. Broken English and short, Spanish phrases nervously bounced around from stranger to stranger and transformed us into immediate friends in Christ. Fresh pineapple and homemade lime drink quenched our lips and was followed by incredible plates of Mexican food. The evening closed with a rich, cultural immersion we all had anticipated, yet we couldn’t quite articulate what we were feeling.

The next six days were filled with elements of service: painting, mixing cement and pouring concrete for a stairway, pulling nails from discarded lumber, cleaning out storage rooms, and constructing two storage sheds beneath the staircase. We taught English classes and played basketball and a variety of games with the children from the neighborhood. In the heat of the day and as temperatures rose into the 80’s, we stepped away from the ‘intensive’ labor to take road trips to one of the poorest neighborhoods (Colonia Chavira) as well as to one of the wealthiest neighborhoods of Juarez. Our innocent assumptions of the Mexican residents quickly transformed as we ventured deeper and deeper into real life situations that unfolded before our eyes. We began to capture a glimpse of the political, economical, emotional, and spiritual dynamics of this border town as beggars and street-children came to our vans at every stoplight. Through a brief experiment at a local grocery store, the basic understanding of how to feed a family with a limited amount of pesos quickly became an exercise of futility for us. One afternoon, we actually walked on the dry riverbed of the once wild Rio Grande River, an area where as many as 5,000 immigrants cross each day into El Paso. The beaten down paths, discarded food containers and garbage that littered the area offered evidence of the migrant’s daily struggle. As the dust swirled around our ankles during this short venture to the actual border, I reflected on how all of us truly do make a journey upon the dust of our ancestors.

During our stay at the Mission, we had the blessing to worship and interact with the Verdad y Fe Presbyterian Church. The pastor preached in Spanish from Ecclesiastes on Sunday morning and Todd translated the message. I was instantly caught up in how the powerful Word of God comes to us through many voices and many languages and is alive today through the faith of many generations. Each evening, following supper and individual journaling, we gathered for reflection and study as a large group. Throughout these powerful gatherings we laughed, cried, prayed, shared insights and thoughts, and through it all, gained a glimpse of how people struggled to feed and make a better life for their families. In most instances, we came to the realization that most migrants appeared stronger in spirit and faith than those of us whose cup truly overflows with material wealth.

Through this young missionary and his passion to teach and serve the Lord, plus offer love to the stranger unconditionally, each one of our hearts were cracked open to experience, feel and commune with a people who are desperately seeking a place to call home. The imagine of make-shift homes constructed of discarded wood pallets and tarpaper, built side by side on a dusty patch of land that was so dry and on the surface lifeless, will be etched in my mind for a long, long time. In a place where water was a limited resource and shade from a tree a rare pleasure, I was reminded over and over again of the verse from the Gospel of Matthew as Jesus shared, “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” In my heart of hearts I realize all of us are truly strangers migrating on this earth, longing for a home, a place where there is justice and peace and a welcoming voice sharing words of comfort and affirmation. Needless to say, my heart was definitely tugged through this service experience and I honestly believe I saw a glimpse of Christ along the way. I will return, God willing.

The 2006 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 66