A Week in (What’s Left Of) Their Shoes
// October 21st, 2009 // 1 Comment » // Goals, Reflection, Strongholds
Last week was the equivalent of God (through our leaders) smacking us upside the head with a 2×4 and yelling “Look around you. Look at what I have given you to work with. Look at what you come from. Look at how I have blessed you so that you may be a blessing to others. Look at those whom I have called you to serve. Look at how they live. Look at what they eat. Look at what they wear. Look at what they have. Look at what they see. Look at how they love each other. Look at how they worship me. Listen to what they hear. Listen to what they say. Listen to how they DO. NOT. EVER. COMPLAIN. Listen to their angelic voices as they sing praises to me. Now look at yourselves. Listen to yourselves. Your righteousness disgusts me. Your lukewarmness repulses me; I will vomit you out of my mouth. Repent. Cry out to me. Love those whom you serve. Come back into my will.”
I’ve been humbled and corrected. The week of “El Colli Boot Camp” was spurred by our total neglect towards preparation, both in physical work and spiritual, for El Colli practice and “game day.” We showed up to Thursday’s practice with terrible attitudes, completely unprepared to teach everyone our roles and parts for Saturday’s ministry. Because of this, that Saturday ended up being rather underwhelming. This all sets up what we experienced over that week.
On Monday night after our meeting, we were handed rules for the week. These rules dictated two pairs of clothing for the entire week, including socks, shoes, underwear, etc. No electricity use except for homework. No computer use except for homework. No shaving. No toiletries except for one bar of soap per bathroom and a toothbrush and toothpaste. No using the dryer. No hot water. Spending limit of 20 pesos for the week. Most importantly: no complaining.
That night (Monday) we slept on the floor at Matt and Angie’s house. Guys in one room, girls in another. The next morning, we were given 1.5 hours to get everyone showered, using no hot water or electricity, still in the dark. Since “everyone” included 13 people, this was quite a task. We also divvied up 6 granola bars, 6 apples, and a box of cheerios between everyone. For the cheerios, there were only cups, no bowls, and no spoons. Also, we had one box of milk that was not cold. The morning was surprisingly smooth and we all got out the door and off to classes in plenty of time. That might have been the last smooth part of the week.
Tuesday day was not too terrible. We’ve all gone a day without a shower, right? We felt fine. Shoot, some of us were downright chipper. Tuesday night after La Fusion was a different story. We’d been stuck in a hot sweaty room with a bunch of kids (whom we dearly love) who were driving us crazy, we were hungry, we were sticky, and we weren’t allowed to use the microwave to heat up our dinner, or use the lights even though they function perfectly, or allowed to take a shower. That was a rough night’s sleep.
Wednesday we were allowed to take bucket showers. If you’ve never heard of a bucket shower, you don’t have to be a genius to figure out what it means. There’s a bucket. It has cold water. You give yourself a “shower” with a cup or sponge in the bucket. Simple, right? Actually, yes. The bucket showers were a lot less brutally frigid than the 2 minute shower at Matt and Angie’s, but since it isn’t hot water you still don’t quite feel clean. Wednesday mornings are worship devotionals, so Carolyn led us in a bunch of songs a capella. This turned out so much better than I had expected it to and we all drew close to God. We concluded with some heartfelt prayer and headed off to school, where we all felt self-conscious about wearing the same clothes as the day before. Wednesday is generally a pretty slow day for ministry, so we didn’t have to do much after school except study for our other classes and hang out with each other. (One awesome little aside about Wednesday is that Kim Crannell, a great friend since Mr. Bono’s Pre-Algebra class in 6th grade, sent me three pairs of brand new shorts in the mail, since all of mine had ripped and had to be discarded. They arrived on Wednesday and they all fit perfectly and Kim has earned my love forever, although she already had it)
Thursday was back to normal cold showers (still only in the morning. For everyone else, this is normal. For me, I’ve been a night shower person since I was about 7 years old when my sister started Kindergarten. Showers slow me down and put me to sleep, so this was of particular annoyance to me, and I had to repent of my frustration at the end of the week when I realized what was going on), but they weren’t nearly as bad as the first ones because, again, we had time to do it carefully. The quirk for Thursday was twofold: Thursdays are “Dia de Español” and we were not allowed to use silverware for the day. Dia de Español means that, outside of meetings, we are only allowed to speak in Spanish for the entire day, from the conclusion of morning devotions until dinner commences in the evening. This is easier for some of us, but with sleep deprivation, stench, discomfort, and general discontent stemming from living with people for a month and a half, we were all approaching a breaking point that day.
Friday was the zenith of the experience. We were allowed showers on Thursday night (still cold) and I took mine right around 11pm, figuring that would be the best timing for the water to be the warmest (in Mexico, potable water is kept in tanks on the roof, so the water is being warmed by the sun all day). I was right. That shower felt absolutely amazing. We were also allowed to change into our second pair of clothes on Friday morning, so we felt refreshed throughout the day. That night, we opened up the youth center and spent hours playing with kids from both Arenales (the youth center neighborhood) and from Casa Hogar (a home for abandoned/orphaned boys). We also attempted to get them to watch Shrek 3 in Spanish, but that didn’t last long. It did last long enough for them to consume inordinate proportions of Coca Cola and Jiffy Pop, though, which they loved.
After sending all of our munchkins off for the night, we headed over to El Colli to split up into two groups and walk around the neighborhood observing just what happens. I cannot stress this enough: that was a dangerous thing to do. The violence in this neighborhood isn’t something we couldn’t handle, since there really aren’t guns or things like that, but the spiritual oppression and the perversion of this place is not only palpable, it’s so thick in the air that it feels like you’re wading through a bog of sin, fetid with the stench of decay and rife with the whispered lies in the shadows. I stayed close to our girls, ready to do anything necessary to protect their innocence, their comfort, and their bodies. After the walk, we met back up at the van and discussed all that we had seen, felt, heard, smelled, and sensed. At the end of the night, we came home for dinner, which was eaten hurriedly and with much loud complaining about the week.
At the conclusion of dinner, Angie commented on how little it sounded like we had learned based on our conversation and complaining, going so far as to mention that the week could be extended if necessary. Angie drilled home the point of the week: “You’re supposed to be learning what it’s like to live in El Colli, not that that is possible living in an amazing house with a real bed and fans and going to two colleges at the same time, but you’re supposed to be gaining an understanding, be it ever so minute and limited, about the kids you’re serving. It doesn’t sound like you guys learned anything. I want you to take a moment to think about this week, then every person is going to explain what they’ve learned.”
That ring around the table was one of the most passion-filled, compassionate, heart-breaking conversations I’ve ever had the pleasure and the honor to take part in. Each of us spilled out intimate heartcries for the rest of the group to hear and each of us broke down at one point or another. For my part, I spoke of my brief stint as a homeless person in college, which almost nobody knows about. I related it to this and said that even that was becoming a source of pride, that the enemy was lying to me about my supposedly superior experiences and my supposedly superior wisdom and that I had been listening to and putting credence in those lies. In truth, I have more to learn than I could have ever thought possible, and I am now even slower to learn it because I spent so much time thinking I already knew it. I repented and asked for forgiveness from the group for my arrogance and my pride.
The next day was El Colli, but I stayed home. Normally, this is not allowed. On this week, I have no idea why it was allowed, except that I had almost no responsibility at the ministry that day and I had to get a ton of homework done so I could go to a retreat with the youth group at my church (Esmirna) that night, where I ended up making a ton of friends, building relationships like a madman, got asked by the youth pastor to lead worship some time in English, and discovered that I now have at least one Mexicana who has a crush on me. That last part is the least exciting, by far.
When we got home on Sunday, we went straight to the finish line of the Guadalajara Marathon to watch Angela Tiffany (not Matt’s Angie) and Matt finish their race. Unfortunately, we were on Mexican time (I’m not sure why they even say time in that phrase, since Mexicans both have no concept of it and don’t keep track of it), which meant we were about 30 minutes late to see the finish. They both finished, however, and I am so proud of both of them.
On the way home from the marathon, I did something crazy. I signed up for a 10k this weekend. Oy vey. This could turn out to be a very bad decision.