Week 9

As I let the phone drop into the receiver and Giezi and I continue our brainstorm, a hidden knot in my insides releases. After a week and a half of playing phone and email tag, we've got all of our main outreach locations set up. Knowing that we have a place to sleep for our team of 24 people for the next 2 months is huge!

For the first ten days of outreach (excluding driving days), we'll be in Guadalajara, a principal city in the Mexican state of Jalisco. Then for 2-3 weeks, we've arranged to work through the base in Cancun to reach 2 cities in the southernmost state of Mexico, Chiapas. From there, we'll travel through the Yucatan peninsula and ferry to the island of Cozumel for the last portion of our formal ministry time. Altogether, it's a distance of over 6,250 miles. As our team has been praying, we've felt that God has led us to focus on orphanages, kid's ministry, sports ministry, and worship. He's also reminded us that our outreach begins as we leave Ensenada, not when we get to Guadalajara. We're excited to see how He'll put it all together!

And I've been learning what it means to let Him be in control and not trust in my own ability to organize or communicate. God knows how to push my buttons, and I'm trying to let Him. I have to realize that I'm not as smart as He is and  all my worrying and planning won't determine the success of the outreach. That's up to Him. Easier said than done. But worth it : ).

Please pray for our team, that God will begin to prepare each of our hearts for what He wants to show us and do through us on outreach. That He will give us His dreams for the people we'll meet and our fellow team mates. Pray for Giezi and I as we learn to how to lead this team together and with Him. And pray that we will be able to take everything that God wants us to have out of these last 3 weeks of lecture phase. I know He's got cool things for us in the moment and in the not so distant future. Thanks for being a part of what He's doing.

As I sit here in the DTS office listening to the printer slowly churn newsletters out, I try to keep my eyes open and focused on the screen. The last several weeks have been amazing- so intense, but so incredible. I'm exhausted, but the good kind. Let me share a few of the highlights. . .

Week 4: An electrifying peace thickens the classroom as one student sings out their own phrase of worship. Across the circle someone picks up the words and puts notes to it. Within a few moments, all 37 or 38 people in the room are singing a unique and never heard song as the simple chord progression thrums underneath their voices. Worship is the theme of this week's teaching, but the students are learning that worship is not defined by songs and instruments. It's defined by trust, repentance, and obedience. A lifestyle, not an hour every Monday and Thursday morning. They have risen to that challenge this week, and I can see the change in their faces. Some have called parents and been transparent for the first time in years. Others have acted on hearing God's voice in their personal lives, even when it was awkward and painful. Some have asked forgiveness from each other. And now their words come from experience as they sing their new song to God.

Week 5: Nervous titters and anxious looks dart up to the front of the room where a couple staff members are sorting through the slips of paper the students just turned in. The names that have "Gold" written above them are scribbled on one side of lined notebook paper, and the ones that say "Silver" across from them. Tonight's presentations of our outreach locations has also been an exercise in hearing God's voice. After hearing the locations, the students were given about 15 minutes and asked to pray that God would give them one of these two colors. Now they are anxious to hear not only who else is on their team, but which location those colors stood for. But the leaders are in for a surprise as well- due to two student leaders receiving "Gold" instead of "Silver", we have a quick prayer session of our own. At the end of the night, 14 people get together to pray for their new focus: Chile and Argentina. And my co-leader Giezi and I watch as our team of 18 students and the five kids run over to the world map and point to what is now the focus of at least 30% of my thoughts for next 3 1/2 months: extreme southern Mexico. 

And today, at the half-way mark of lecture phase, I look around at the girls in my small group, flopped at every angle over the couches in the worship hall. They laugh and exchange embarrassing stories and paint their nails as I pepper them with questions about their experiences so far and their opinions about this week's lecture on the heart and relationships. Some readily and stongly voice their feelings, while others have a little more trouble. While they have formed a rhythm and place to express themselves, I can sense a deep tiredness and a little frustration in all of us. It's normal at this stage of the DTS to come out of the "honeymoon stage" as we all find the pattern of life and the newness of people and surroundings wear off. 

But as I gather the last of my newsletters and pack up my mochila for the day, I recognize that God's got so much more for all of us in the next 6 weeks of lecture phase. He'll be settling some lessons deeper into our hearts and revealing new things. But in order to be awake enough to enjoy them, I'd better head to bed ; ).

Never Leave a Man Behind

Several hands shoot up as one of the students states her opinion during the debrief of the balance beam exercise. Across hot, sweaty cheeks, lively and cautious eyes, and sprawling bodies, the discussion about individual participation versus team responsibility rapidly criss-crosses the DTS classroom. Some readily interject their opinions, others observe attentively, while a few sit wide eyed. Emotions are running high and personalities are rising to the surface. And after this week, everyone knows how to recognize them. Four days of sharing, taking personality tests, intentional games, and physical challenges has aimed at getting this team to become exactly that- a team. Not just a bunch of individuals going through the same program, but healthy group that work hard for trust, honesty,effectiveness and relationship.  Our masks are beginning to wriggle off and the team is learning how to process "real". It's good. It's just the beginning of a molding and integrating process.

As he was praying for our team, our speaker Tim Pratt was reminded of the phrase used by the U.S. military: "Never leave a man behind." And he's repeated it several times in the last four days, trying to get us to grab it and weave it into the make up of who we are as a team. For situations like the one that's sparked this discussion- when someone either got left out of the exercise or chose not to participate and not many people noticed. The way that we process as a team in the classroom will determine how effective we are as a team outside of it- and whether or not we model Jesus' love to each other and others in real life. So I hope we learn well, and choose our actions and words carefully. It's beginning here. And in our brokeness and free will, there's no guarantees we'll be a success. Success will depend on how much we choose to trust each other, how humble we're willing to be, and how much we listen to and obey our Team Leader. As Tim and many others have said, the point is not the goal- it's the journey.

Off and Away!

A sweet awe hangs in the air as guitar strains sing softly, our voices now silent, letting the moment linger. Tonight, this green team of 31 new DTS students is practicing their newest lesson- intercession for the area and people in Ensenada's zona rosa (redlight district). In just a couple minutes, half of them will be following their prayers to the zona rosa, armed with soup, smiles, and a loving touch. For many, looking drug addiction, homelessness, prostitution, and drunkeness in the eye will be a new, uncomfortable experience. I hope it breaks their hearts. Just I'm leaving the room, one student is getting a group together to pray for the ones who are going out. This is what DTS is about. Perspective. Relationship. Learning the necessity of us and Him. Warfare.

In the last six days, I've had the opportunity to get to sit down with many of these students. Hear their stories. Eat lunch with them. Randomly dye our hair together. Mess up their names. Say "I'm not sure" to their questions about Ensenada and Wal-Mart and where the closest ATM is. They are a great bunch of people. And I do mean a bunch! With 31 students, nine staff, five kids, and one adorable, chubby cheeked 7 month old,  this will be the biggest DTS I've been a part of (not that I'm intimidated or anything ; ). Our passionate, untameable, gentle God's got plans and appointments with them- I can feel it. And I can't wait to hear about it.

As I've been settling into a new base, group of people, and rhythm of life with the students, I've had a chance to talk with Tym and Sarvia (who lead the DTSes here). I'll be cleaning, restocking, and setting up the speaker's room each week, helping out with some admin stuff when they need it, and being the "book girl" (making sure small group leaders have and hand out the next book to the students). I get to meet twice a week with a small group of 6 girls, helping them process DTS and lecture and what God's doing. I'll also be  following up individually with each of the girls, seeing how they're doing. Days will be full with lectures, staff meetings, exercise, local outreach, grading book reports, reading journals, and host of other "unexpecteds". The staff will also be going through some extra training in leadership, complete with our own classes, journals, assignments, and reports. It'll be a bit crazy, but I know that I'm in the right place for now. So as I take a couple minutes to let the day wind down, drink a cup of tea, and wait for the students to get back from the zona rosa, I'm also buckling up and leaning into this next adventure!

24 Hours

24 hours ago, I was hurriedly packing and cramming all of my stuff into suitcases, boxes and garbage bags. Now, I'm on staff with the DTS in Ensenada.

In the last week, God has been doing interesting things in the TJ DTS. Due to beginning with samll school of 10 girls, our leadership began wondering what was going on when 3 of our students cancelled or requested to be transferred to the Fall DTS in Ensenada. After several days of long meetings, prayer and conversation, the leadership team decided to combine our school with the DTS in Ensenada. Many of our students were surprised, but have agreed to transfer an hour further south. We don't know what God has up His sleeve, but are trusting His faithfulness.

Interestingly enough, throughout the last year I have always had a sense of peace when I am at our Ensenada location. In the last several weeks, that peace has come back very strongly. Last week, I spoke with Rob, the DTS director in TJ, and Jim, the base director about what had been going on in my heart. We were processing what that could mean or look like and waiting on God to speak into the situation when our studetns began to be directed elsewhere and the decision to combine the schools was made. When Tym, the DTS director in Ensenada informed my leaders that he was in need of one more femail staff memeber, they asked me Wednesday afternoon if I would consider helping with the DTS in Ensenada. I said yes. AS the DTS students arrive on Saturday, I moved down last night, got unpacked, and am getting caught  up to speed  as much as possible before the school officially begins on Monday. 

While there are certainly challenges with all the rapid change, I feel that God has His hand in all this. He's a master weaver of lives and circumstances, and I'm learning to trust His judgment : ). Right now, it's off to a meeting and a new adventure!

El Grito

The fifteen-passenger van whips around another corner, and I brace myself against the seat and try not to land on Elsi sitting next to me. Johny chuckles from the driver’s seat up front, and turns his attention to finding a parking spot in crowded downtown Ensenada. After parking the van, the six of us weave our way through crisscrossing pedestrian traffic and vendors with their carts selling elote (cups of corn with butter, salt, and hotsauce), caramel apples, cotton candy, and shimmery red, white and green Mexican flags in an impressive array of sizes. A teenager offers to paint my cheek with the Mexican colors, and I barely have time to offer a polite “No, gracias” before hurrying after Susie’s retreating head. The energy of celebration pulses in the air, trumpeted by little horns and whistles, bright lighted booths selling tamales and chicharones, laughter, and mariachi music pumping from the stage area. It’s September 15, Mexican Independence Day, and it seems as though all of Ensenada is on this street for El Grito (The Shout), the sound of freedom.

On the main stage, huge banners lead up from the platform to a second story balcony where the formal ceremony will take place in about an hour and a half. Large video screens allow the crowd to participate in the pre-ceremony festivities. As we work our way closer to the platform, a young girl gets up and sings acapella in a high clear voice, a traditional Mexican love song. Right on her heels and in a furl of black ranchero pants, billowing stripes and swirls of color, a dancing group flirts, begs and tip-taps their way through several traditional dances from the state of Colima (Susie and I decide we need to find out how to sign up ; ). All the while, the whistles toot and people applaud and catcall.

I try not to trip over a plastic cup rolling around between a maze of people’s feet as we find the rest of the group representing YWAM’s 3 locations in Mexico. We’re an interesting bunch, more than a few nationalities, languages, and races represented, but all of us laugh, attempting to dance to the lively folk music and getting to know people we don’t often get to spend time with. And after a presidential speech piped in from Mexico City, the Mexican National Anthem and several other localized political ballads, we join as the Mexican Declaration of Independence is read and the crowd screams, “VIVA!” in response.

Just as the excitement reaches its peak, we’re directed to turn around. After a second, the dark night air is broken by high pitched shriek. A second later, a riot of color explodes and sparkles in the sky above us. We crane our heads back and applaud like the delighted children in front of us as firework after firework sounds the independence of Mexico.

After a few minutes of chatter and more mariachi music and dancing, we round our group up and head back to the base. In the midst of preparing for DTS, it’s worth the crowds, the parking, and the neck ache to celebrate the culture and heritage of a country I get to share.

Sportin' a 'Tude

I knew Chad's sermon for the MA kids was really meant for me, but I doubted he knew that. "I will not give the Lord a sacrifice that cost me nothing. . ." The verse inched under my skin as I sat in the plastic chair in our make-shift worship hall. I had the sneaking feeling that God had something to say about it. I began to think of all the things I could sacrifice to God. . . my future, my desires, you know. The big things. But as Chad got down and I went up with the rest of the worship team to do the last set, it hit me. I'd been complaining all week about being assigned to Mission Adventures this week. I had my excuses: we have a lot of work to do with the DTS just a few weeks away. It's an evangelism team and the role of translator feels way bigger than my skill level. I had plans for this weekend, and I was on the worship team and Saturday breakfast prep already. It would take days away from the work week next week, days I couldn't afford to loose. But I couldn't find a replacement. So here I was. And as I picked up my mic, I knew the thing God wanted. My attitude about this week of translating. It's easy to think about sacrifice when it's in the future. But what about tonight? "Okay fine. Just for You." But as I said okay, my heart began to change. And my heart changed, my whole week changed. The first day, I didn't have to do much translating. All the kids at the orphanage we were working with were out of the building, so we deep cleaned the kitchen while the guys on the team cleared a lot to be used for youth rallies later. The next day, my friend Susie went along to help translate so I got to do a lot more relationship building with the team and the workers at the orphanage. By the time my heavy translating day came on Monday, I realized I was having a lot of fun. I loved the kids on the team. I loved the orphanage and the pastor we were working with. And I had had a great example of a translator the day before and my Spanish was warmed up enough that I enjoyed translating for the kid's program. God blessed me by removing some of the things that I was insecure in. He didn't have to do that. But He did. And He didn't have to give me an amazing group of students to work with. But I was so impressed with their flexibility. Their outreach location got changed at the last minute, yet still the words I heard out of the leader's mouth over and over were: "How can we serve you? Yeah, we have a program. But what do you really need?" or "Give me the dirtiest job. I want to get it done for you." Whether it was moving rocks in the burning afternoon, or scrubbing cup after cup in the kitchen, or moving a pile of rotting trash and old Depends, I saw them stretched. And I saw them fight, and make up. I saw them serve in situations they weren't planning on. My "sacrifice" ended up being a blessing- to me. Instead of coming away exhausted, I felt refreshed. And as we learned to serve together, I made a passel of new friends. Sometimes, our sacrifice isn't the actual action itself. It's our pride. My rights. My time, right now. God knows the right things to ask for, eh? Because he knows once we get over ourselves, our lives are whole lot more of a blessing to everyone-including ourselves.