Saying "see ya later" to Mexico

As I think about heading back to the States to start grad school in a few weeks, my heart is divided. I'm both excited and sad to leave people who I've come to love here in Mexico. I feel blessed that I'll be able to continue working with Back2Back part-time over the internet supervising the new social worker and continuing to influence how we work with these beloved kids and families here, but I also know that I won't be able to do my favorite part of my job from St. Louis.

From an outsiders point of view, my job may seem flashing and exciting and world-changing. I, however, would say that I am in the business of healing hearts, which is in essence a miraculously mundane process. There are no perfect words or quick fixes. Lots of time, lots of waiting, lots of being together, some words, some mistakes, lots of forgiveness, some tears, and lots of laughs. But no magic buttons.

I'm a missionary in Mexico, and what I do everyday is miraculously mundane. Nothing I do is glorious--although I do it all with and for a glorious God. I listen to upset mothers and lead kids in games and break up fights and make birthday cakes and take kids to the doctor. All things that normal families do--I just so happen to do all of those things with little brown-skinned Spanish speakers. And while those moments taken separately are nothing special, when done together they lead to trust and love and healing. And that is the slow but glorious work that God has called me to be a part of here in Cancun--and that is why it is so hard for me to leave. Because leaving for 1 1/2 years means giving up all of the little moments in which lay all of the meaning and which I have come to love and treasure quite desperately.

I love that I know that Hania doesn't like cheese on her sandwich and that all of the middle school boys like Carla and that Eduardo acts up when he gets too hot and that Gael is really 10 years old (even though he tells everyone he's 12) and that Jonatan loves to dance during worship. I love that Luis calls me Auntie and that Citlally asks where my ring is when I forget to put it on and that Jiromi and I share a birthday and Ami and I have an inside joke about the time she ate a whole bag of carrots just to hear me say that I was proud of her for eating her vegetables.

I love all of those little moments and those are little moments that I can't have over the internet; they are moments that only exist by being together. And that is what I will miss most while at grad school--being with these kids. And yet I say yes to another change, another city, another opportunity to learn, another chance to see God in new ways
 knowing that the children and families I love are his and that he will keep them and draw them to himself. I move forward knowing that the love and relationships God gave me in Mexico were not given in vain, but for his glory. I trust him both with the kids present and their future, and I trust him with the love I've come to have for them--longing for that beautiful day when we will no longer be separated by time or distance or any of the barriers that exist in this world. A day when we can fully know and embrace one another in complete and total worship to God. So today I thank him for being God and for being good and for working out all things for his good, pleasing, and perfect will.