Humble Pie

Javier looks like he's probably in his mid-to-early thirties. He's got a nice trimmed mustache, but is clean shaven besides that. His dark hair is slicked back with enough gel to wax a car, and his clothes are well-used, but clean. Fluent in English and Spanish, he's very open and easy to chat with. He grew up in East L.A., where he has 3 kids between the ages of 6 and 10. He loves the Lord and is quick to say that God is his Provider and that he can always count on him.

If this weren't downtown Tijuana after dark, I would be surprised to see him with a cup of the rice pudding we're handing out. Or to know that he got deported from the U.S. and that he's been on the streets for about a month now, after completing a 2 year prison term. He's been standing here in a laundromat with it's one wall open to the busy street, talking with two YWAM staff members. Right now, he's homeless. He hasn't seen his kids in two and a half years, and he's having problems in his marriage. His oldest son told him that he was disappointed in him when Javier got busted a couple years ago. I can see the pain from that comment hasn't got away yet. And even after we part ways, I sit in the van on the way back to the base, the questions lingering on the fringe of my mind.
How often have I stuck a label on someone and figured I knew their character?
A label like "prostitute" or "illegal immigrant" or "addict"? How often I judge people before I know their stories?
Too often.
You want to know what the ironic thing is? The longer I stood and talked with Javier, I could feel both the impact and the discomfort grow in my heart. Why is it uncomfortable to find out the story of someone I previously judged? Because the more I listen, the more I have to admit the truth: I have a lot to learn from people I've labeled as worse than me.

And that with just a few twists to the story, it would have been me eating rice pudding on a street corner in TJ.

Instead, I am in a fifteen passenger van tasting a different desert: Humble Pie.

The Question

I sat in my bed in the corner, staring at the blue jots in my journal scream off of the page. The question trembled in my heart and my tired, stressed out brain:

"Where are You in this?"

Tomorrow was the day. The day we'd been praying and trying to believe wouldn't come. We still needed $60,000 for our outreaches to Kyrgyzstan and Southern Mexico. The students had written newsletters, washed cars, baked cakes and pies, woven bracelets, and a host of other activities in an attempt to raise the funds. I put hours into setting up the Outreach. In staff meetings we had prayed for a heck of a lot of money and every time we tried to make a Plan B, God challenged us to have faith. So we did. Or I thought I did. Now, it was two weeks before Outreach was scheduled to start and tomorrow was our deadline. We needed the money or we would have to start planning an alternate outreach. And tonight, I had to ask the age old question. "What happens when it feels like God didn't come through?"
As the words of the song I wasn't really listening to broke the silence, goosebumps popped up all over my arms.

"With eyes wide open to the differences
The God we want and the God who is
But will we trade our dreams for His
Or are we caught in the middle?"

Somewhere in the Middle, Casting Crowns

The God we want and the God who is. His question was clear. Am I committed to Him when He doesn't do what I think makes sense? Will I trade the image of what I thought God was calling us to for what He really is calling us to?

Will I give God a blank check with my signature on it?

With a very slow, tentative hand, I signed on the line. It was a risky move, I know.
Yet, I've discovered in the last week that His dreams are beautiful, and that they don't look at all how I had imagined. He's teaching me to trust who He is rather than try to figure Him out. I have a feeling it's going to be a bigger adventure than I can possibly dream- and probably a whole lot better, too.

Overcomer

Since the beginning of DTS, I've liked Sandra. She's got a beautiful smile that matches her sweet spirit. Even though she doesn't say a whole lot during class, I can tell she's focused and weighing everything she hears. I love listening to her pray. A few weeks ago, our DTS did an intense wilderness training week that involved sleeping under the stars, doing your business behind bushes, killing chickens for supper, and probably the most difficult task: hiking over 22 miles in 4 days up and down mountains with heavy backpacks. Sandra had never been hiking before, so this experience was more than difficult for her. Even in moments when I could see the exhaustion in her eyes as she looked up the mountain, I never heard her complain. During this training, each student also had the responsibility of leading their team for several tasks. Sandra, who is normally quiet and shy, stepped out of her comfort zone to stand on her own two feet and lead the team on the at the end of the hardest day of hiking. She was the heart of our team, and all of us learned a lot about humility and stick-to-it-ness from her.

Sandra and another student, Esteban

Walking down a dusty back road picking up trash, I had a chance to find out more about her. She's from Mexicali, a town about 1-2 hours from TJ, where her 2 siblings and a passel of nieces and nephews live. She was the peacemaker in her family when her brother and sister got into it growing up. As I ask questions about her life and family, I can hear the love caress her words and almost giggle out of her. I'm excited to get to know Sandra more as we travel and minister in Southern Mexico. We leave December 16th, just two and half weeks! Sandra is excited too, but she still needs all of the $2,800 that pays for her transportation, housing, food, and ministry costs. You can be a part of helping this overcomer share Jesus with the people of Mexico. Would you considering partnering with her in prayer and finances?

To partner with Sandra, please make checks out to Youth With A Mission to:

YWAM San Diego/Baja

100 W. 35th Street, Suite C

National City, CA 91950

Include a note indicating that it is for Sandra Chavez's outreach funds.

"I Found the Key"

The classroom was silent.

You could have heard a pin drop on the other side of the dividing curtain as Marty, our DTS speaker for this week, knelt in front of my friend. She cradled her head in her hands as he quietly asked for forgiveness on behalf of the men in her life who had hurt her so deeply. His eyes moistened as she began to weep. Mine were wet as well as I prayed from the back of the room. I could feel the battle in the air. At this critical moment, all of her experience and all of Hell's army were pitted against her. "God, make a quiet sanctuary in her heart where You can speak to her as she makes this decision," I begged silently. Soon, the tension began lift and Marty gave her hug. She said "Yes, I forgive you" and whispered several names.
Now, a few hours later, her eyes look different than they have in the past couple months. Sparklier, lighter, freer. As we sit on the front porch of the base, watching sea birds swoop and dive through a crack in the buildings across the street, she tells me,

"I felt like that. Like I dove straight into deep water. . . like my feet
were chained and I was sinking, trying to find the right key on the ring to fit
in the keyhole. I was almost out of air," she gives me a sideways glance and
with a small, mischeivous smile, adds,

"But I found
the key."

God wins again. He's been winning the last couple weeks here in TJ. Winning battles like my friend's. Winning hearts. Winning strongholds. With topics like "Pain from the Past", "Identity in Christ", or this week's, "The Father Heart of God", He's been stirring up a lot of buried earth in the hearts of the students. . . and staff ; ). But He's slowly winning, battle by battle. The soldiers are tired, but free. And they're not letting anyone fight alone.

Please keep praying- you're helping win the battle too!

Names of the DTS students: Brooke, Elizabeth, Egla, Alex, Laurena, Sandra, Silvia, Luisa, Diana, Fabian, Chad, Sergio, Esteban, Arnold, Nolan, Omar, Abraham, and the DTS baby, Fabiola

Names of DTS staff: Jim, Nico, Scott, Jamie, Andy, Stacie, Montse, Dina, and Amy

What's Up?

Shock seeped from their eyes as we walked into the hidden retirement home in an small colonia. Maybe a little disgust or pity, even apathy. But as this group of teenagers mopped the floors, wiped noses, cleaned away cat urine, and held wrinkled hands, I saw something different begin to burn: compassion. A few hours later, at a last minute opportunity to help out, these kids gave $195 to the retirement home in less than 5 minutes. Even more encouraging were the stories they told in the van on the way back to the YWAM base. Lives changed. Mission Adventures is officially over for this summer, but the effect it had on hundreds of lives is just beginning.

Like the base, I am entering a new season. After a lot of prayer and thought, I have decided to stay at the Tijuana base instead of moving to Ensenada this fall as originally planned. My passion is to bring hope, freedom, and empowerment to young people's hearts and to those in poverty through truth and relationship-based discipleship and through meeting basic physical needs. Currently, I am staffing the DTS in Tijuana, discipling and forming relationships with the students, being the kitchen liaison, and doing some of the administrative work. I'm excited to see God get real with people this fall, and to go on outreach with the team in December!

My Life

A sum up of my life at the moment:

15 students

3 Countries

5 nights in my own bed in 3 weeks

2 conferences

1 house build

10 hours in the office per day

2 days until DTS starts

17 web calendars

9 hours of meetings in 2 days

5 months of DTS

$3,000 for students without money in 2 weeks!

2 new staff members this week!

1 Mexican Independence Day!

21st birthday a couple weeks ago

1 BIG GOD!!!

The Rose

Smothered in a rough, oversized coat, she sits against the short wall bordering the business sidewalks. My friend points her out, saying he wants to give her the rest of his ice cream. The gratefulness in her eyes at receiving such a gift invites us to stay awhile and talk. Her name is Rosa. Originally she's from Mexico City, and that's where her family is now. Years ago, she hosted Bible studies in her home in the States and handed out Bibles a few blocks away on Revolution Avenue, where all the tourists come to drink and party. When we tell her that we're Christians too, she opens even more. She has no one in Tijuana and no contact with her kids. She's been living on the streets for 4 years now, but she doesn't act desperate or beg for anything. Instead, she tells us stories of how God has provided for her unexpectedly. She tells people about God's Word at every opportunity. When we ask her what we can pray for her, she says she wants a home, a job, and some new clothes, but right now she'd be happy with a cart to put her bags in so she didn't have to carry them all day. As I listen to her story, I can feel my heart breaking. Why is it so easy to assume people struggling with poverty are so different than me? If I had met Rosa at a church somewhere, I would have been inspired and challenged by her passion for seeing people saved. Tonight, sitting cross legged on a sidewalk in downtown Tijuana, I am awed and convicted. By now, it's almost midnight and we need to reconnect with our friends. With all the stores closed for hours, there's nothing we can do for her but give her some money and pray with her, that is after she tells us about a big prayer gathering that one of the churches is putting on in a month. Soon after we meet back up with our the rest of our friends, one of them has compassion on a little girl selling roses. Not really wanting the rose, she gives it to Rocky. Half an hour later, as we're walking back to the van, we see Rosa moving in the dark down the block. Rocky and I have the same thought at about the same time. As our friends climbed in, we run to say good bye and to give Rosa a gift one of God's faithful princesses deserves: a delicate red rose.