[Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud, and how does it relate to the person you are?]
I looked out of the van windows at the passing countryside. Now and again a field would pass by where workers were toiling. My team, consisting of multiple Californian churches, was in Mexico to provide medical aid and spread the love of Jesus. In minutes, we would have arrived at the site.
Hours later, the day's work was drawing to an end. The hot afternoon sun beat down on me as I stooped to pick up a bicycle. Looking around I could see that doctors were finishing up with their last patients and children were running off home, leaving behind their rainbow-colored crayon etchings. I looked for the little boys I had played soccer with earlier, but they were nowhere to be seen. Many helpers were sitting down and chatting.
I love riding bikes, so I patted away the dust on the bike seat and got on. It was small-there were no brakes-a child's bike. I began to pedal and realigned my balance since I was on a dusty slope. I sped up, feeling the air grow less hot as I wheeled around the church building, looking at the sights and sounds of this rural community. In the distance a plain stretched out for miles with little windowless houses and slanted fences dotting the sandy landscape. I started down a different slope but quickly remembered I had no brakes, so I carefully braked with my shoes. Ahead of me was an outhouse and there was some dark liquid oozing out of it.
I rode over this before I realized it was sewage. Nearby, a girl was carrying her baby brother home. She looked like she was eight years old ...
It then struck me that this was it for these people. This was where they lived every single day. Tonight I was going to be back in camp with a working shower, a sink, and a comfortable bed. What was life like for these children and their parents? And that girl; she already had the responsibilities of a mother-at the age of 8. Many of the children did not come with their parents. They were out working, likely in the fields which our vans passed on the way to the site.
This was the final day of ministry and it was the third year I had gone on short-term missions to Mexico, but I never had truly understood. Now something clicked into place, and for a brief moment as I rode on that rusty, dusty little bike, I saw what it was like to live there.
I am home now. I just came in from jogging at 1:30 in the morning in the chilly, foggy streets of Walnut Creek. It had been silent and empty except for the lone car now and again. The traffic lights at every corner had created brilliant glows in the presence of the fog, and even though my glasses were not on, I could see those distant twinkles overhead. Here, the streets are paved.
My experience in Mexico further shaped my understanding of the realities of this world, and has left me with a lasting appreciation for all things simple and good. Though "proud" may not be the right word for my opinion of it, this trait is essential to my character has transformed the way I view life.
I looked out of the van windows at the passing countryside. Now and again a field would pass by where workers were toiling. My team, consisting of multiple Californian churches, was in Mexico to provide medical aid and spread the love of Jesus. In minutes, we would have arrived at the site.
Hours later, the day's work was drawing to an end. The hot afternoon sun beat down on me as I stooped to pick up a bicycle. Looking around I could see that doctors were finishing up with their last patients and children were running off home, leaving behind their rainbow-colored crayon etchings. I looked for the little boys I had played soccer with earlier, but they were nowhere to be seen. Many helpers were sitting down and chatting.
I love riding bikes, so I patted away the dust on the bike seat and got on. It was small-there were no brakes-a child's bike. I began to pedal and realigned my balance since I was on a dusty slope. I sped up, feeling the air grow less hot as I wheeled around the church building, looking at the sights and sounds of this rural community. In the distance a plain stretched out for miles with little windowless houses and slanted fences dotting the sandy landscape. I started down a different slope but quickly remembered I had no brakes, so I carefully braked with my shoes. Ahead of me was an outhouse and there was some dark liquid oozing out of it.
I rode over this before I realized it was sewage. Nearby, a girl was carrying her baby brother home. She looked like she was eight years old ...
It then struck me that this was it for these people. This was where they lived every single day. Tonight I was going to be back in camp with a working shower, a sink, and a comfortable bed. What was life like for these children and their parents? And that girl; she already had the responsibilities of a mother-at the age of 8. Many of the children did not come with their parents. They were out working, likely in the fields which our vans passed on the way to the site.
This was the final day of ministry and it was the third year I had gone on short-term missions to Mexico, but I never had truly understood. Now something clicked into place, and for a brief moment as I rode on that rusty, dusty little bike, I saw what it was like to live there.
I am home now. I just came in from jogging at 1:30 in the morning in the chilly, foggy streets of Walnut Creek. It had been silent and empty except for the lone car now and again. The traffic lights at every corner had created brilliant glows in the presence of the fog, and even though my glasses were not on, I could see those distant twinkles overhead. Here, the streets are paved.
My experience in Mexico further shaped my understanding of the realities of this world, and has left me with a lasting appreciation for all things simple and good. Though "proud" may not be the right word for my opinion of it, this trait is essential to my character has transformed the way I view life.
