Email: Leisha Reynolds

Dear Friends and Family,

It hasn’t taken me long to find myself back in my old college habit: put writing something off until the last minute just to see if pressure can’t build up enough to make that piece of writing even better. It got me by well in college (not that I’m particularly proud of that), but I realize this is a different situation. The pressure I put on myself to construct a beautiful piece of work for my friends and family only ends up taking longer to actually do, therefore making people wait longer for what I’ve promised them since the beginning: monthly updates. I can already tell that the goal of writing something better has been missed, without even haven written all of this yet. So bear with me, eh?

In December, I wrote:

It’s a joy for me to share that as I write this, I’m sitting in my bedroom in Odessa, Missouri—my home. Although the word “home” brings pause for thought as this year (and years past, as well) has seen me questioning what “home” really is. Is it where I sleep? Is it where I keep my clothing? Is it where I leave my toothbrush? If that’s the case, do you have any idea exactly how many places I have toothbrushes? If home is where my heart is, I’ve got a lot of homes. If home is where my family is, then I’ve got a lot of those, as well—family here in Missouri, in other states, and in other countries. Home? Something for us all to consider. Just why do we call a place “home?”

During my time here at “home” I’ve been a source of nonstop chatter for my mom to listen to. Every once in a while I pause for a breath when sharing with her about my experiences the past four months, and during those pauses, she asks me, “why isn’t this in a newsletter?” Good point, I say—but there’s just too much!

Ha! Maybe that’s another reason I haven’t written. OK, so as my new housemate Karis says: “anything is better than nothing.” Augh! So true, but so difficult to remember.

In January, I wrote:

Happy New Year to each of you! Speaking of “new year,”  I’m not sure I anticipated the changes in the new year that were awaiting me as I returned to Agua Prieta after spending a very wonderful holiday season with my family and friends at home in Odessa, Missouri. One might say that, upon returning, I encountered a bit of a problem with the apartments in Agua Prieta where I live (for more on this one, please inquire within!). I spent the next two weeks living at the Frontera de Cristo office, out of my suitcase that I’d brought back from home. During that time, the U.S. coordinator of Frontera de Cristo and his family returned to the border and my new housemate Karis arrived, as well; one might say that these two events caused an entire round of changes that have truly been for the best, at least for me.

I am back in my apartment now, and finally working on a schedule that allows me to live like a slightly normal (or at least sane) person. Time for work, time with Karis, time with the families and friends that I’m closest to here, and time for self—it gets a little bit tricky as I’m sure every life does when it comes to the issue of balance—but when I try to add intentional time for God, for self, and for new friends I’ve made recently in Agua Prieta, it’s not easy. I do feel like I’m already beginning to see a sort of balance or sanity starting to be worked out, and I’ve started to see Agua Prieta in a new light and in new ways, with new people. Living in Mexico (and I’m not talking about living at the expatriate standard of living in Mexico) is pretty neat, you know?

My time at home with family over the holidays, in many ways, helped me to clarify a bit more why I am involved in border ministry work.

Nearing the end of February now, I find myself looking at my calendar with shock on my face. Six months have passed already? What? Will the next six months pass just as quickly? I feel like I’m finally in a place where I can say I really, really want to be here. Stressful months have passed—stressful events, and some bouts of sickness including strep throat. Apparently it’s not healthy to not take days off for myself. (Didn’t I learn that in college, too?) As soon as I think I’ve moved a step forward, I find myself a step behind. I can’t say I’m not where I thought I would be when I arrived on the border, but neither can I say that I am. I’ve had many moments for self-reflection, and at the same time, none at all. And I can’t help but wonder if this newsletter is helpful at all—if it’s letting others know how I’m doing, or if what it’s really doing is allowing me an opportunity to vent, to share, to let go what I’ve been holding within—frustrations with self that never seem to end. Disappointment with self. I still procrastinate. I might always procrastinate. “Anything is better than nothing.” Where is my discipline?

At the beginning of this month, the YAV Tucson group returned to the Cascabel Hermitage Association in Arizona for our Lenten desert spirituality retreat and sojourns. I got to spend four days alone in a tent ramada on the top of a mesa in a desert canyon, in silence, in nature, with God, with self. While I didn’t receive any major epiphany about my life or greater vision as to where I might be after this year, I did have four days to feel like the worries of the world and work were for once not on my very own shoulders, weighing me down. I felt transformed by the world of silence around me, by the sunshine, by the peace. Upon returning to my family of volunteers on the last day possible, and receiving numerous hugs from those who were thrilled to be back with others, my only response was that I could definitely use a week or even a month more of what I had just experienced. For sure, the experience did me well. But I didn’t find myself ready to be back in “life.” Yet we all know that life is going to reach us whether we are ready for it or not, whether we hide from it or not. May as well embrace.

So here I am on the border embracing life. Might I dare call it that?

I would like to share with you about the Migrant Resource Center. I would like to share with you about the thousands of brothers and sisters we have seen, served, and shared with there in the past few months. I would like to share with you about the realities of the borderlands, how it’s everything you might imagine it to be, and at the same time, nothing at all as you would imagine it to be. I would like to educate you, inform you, teach you, share. But I know it won’t be in this letter.

To all those who hold me up in your prayers, to all those who think of me from time to time, to all those committed to making this year possible for me: gracias. Really: I thank you.

Que la paz de Dios sea con todos Uds.,

To find out more about my year you can explore my blog.

If you would like to financially support me over this year you can send a tax deductible check to:

St. Mark's Presbyterian Church
Attn: Linda Marshall
3809 East Third Street
Tucson AZ 85716

Checks can be made out to St Mark's Presbyterian Church with "YAV" and my name written in the memo line.