Tia's Story

I wrote this short story about a year ago, as a creative branch of my ENG102 research. Seeing an old friend a few weeks ago, her son Abraham, reminded me once again of Tia and Hermosillo, which I once called home. I have labelled it simply, Tia's Story.

I had known Tia for over four years now - yes, ever since the incorrigible little redhead spitfire had walked through the door to our little house in Hermosillo, we had become fast friends. She came to clean and organize our home on Wednesdays and Fridays, and I would always be by the door, waiting for her arrival. When I occasionally forgot, I would be play-scolded for my negligence and prodded out of bed to a hot breakfast of eggs and chorizo. Her real name was Socorro, meaning 'help' in Spanish, but we affectionally called her 'Tia', or aunt, and she was like a second mother to me, scolding and spoiling and teaching constantly. She taught me the ways of Sonora - how to talk like a true Sonoran, how to consume chiles like a real Sonoran, and she taught my sister - she never quite trained me - to wear those crazy spindly high heels that Sonorans wear. Two years later, when we moved back to the United States, Tia became, of course, a regular visitor to our home in the States, our honored guest - and, as she could never be idle, she began to work, cleaning and organizing people's homes, and excelling at it with her usual spirit and determination. She never forgot Amy and I, though, and every night we would have our daily tournament, or war, rather, of her favorite board game, Sorry. Besides, every extra peso helped in her little home back in Sonora.

It was one of those trips, her Christmastime visit, the end of a week of grueling hard labor, and finally she was home again with us, sitting on the guest bedroom floor, counting her earnings. I watched as she slowly and deliberately counted every dollar with precision going over her addition twice on the paper I provided her. Her money counted, she began to divide it carefully into categories. Clothes for the boys - $30.

"They need uniforms for school," she said. "They haven't had new ones in nearly two years now. And my oldest, he's grown so much - he needs a new pair of pants. Do you think you mother could drop me off at the thrift store later?"

"No problem," I replied, rather absentmindedly, watching her meticulous counting.

Food - $100.

Savings - $50.

The ticket home - $30.

"I have been so blessed by this trip," she exclaimed, her voice gushing with excitement and joy. "Look how much I made! 100 dollars in one day! Your aunt was most kind to give me that much."

New sweater for her husband - $5.

"Now, if I can just get another cleaning engagement for tomorrow, I will ahve work for 3 more days - I will go home Saturday night. There - I'm done counting."

Total: $300.

"Tia, you work too hard! Give yourself a break! Can't you just hang out tomorrow? It's about time! I have the day off - we could go shopping, or play Sorry..."

"You come with me, Anita! You know I can always use a translator. Some of these tall blonde ladies, they talk so fast as if they expect me to understand, and then leave me a long list of to-dos in English!"

"Tia!" I gasped. "What do you do? I know for a fact you can't read a word of English. You told me so yourself!"

"And you know just as well that I hae never left anyone unhappy with my work. I just do a thorough cleaning, you know, and organize just the tiniest bit, and everyone's always happy."

Just a little organizing, right. Tia's organizing was renowned in our home - whenever anything went missing, ask Tia. And we usually asked the right person, too. Every six months we had the seasonal cleaning-out of my closet to take care of - a nightmare for me, but a joy for someone like Tia. She would wake us both up bright and early, hand each of us a large garbage bag, and tell us to fill it, or else she would. Nevertheless, she was right - my closet was always spotless after her, and most clients wouldn't recognize anything rearranged for a couple of days anyway, at least until Tia was safely out of the country.

"Speaking of organizing - I haven't seen my black dress shoes since last summer, Tia. Would you happen to know where they are?"

"Hm, let's see... now that you remind me, I think I might know the pair you mean."

A quick raid of an obscure un-searched corner of my closet produced the coveted shoes I had recently replaced. That Tia.

She did work those last four days, and that Saturday she left us, waving emphatically as the bus pulled out of the station, her arms filled with discounted buys and surprises for her family back home, cast away items from the houses she had cleaned. South, further south she went, going home with clothing, food, and a little to spare. "I'll be back this summer, you know I will," she had promised. For now, her extra little income had kept her family above water - for now. True to her name, she was taking help home to her family, in many different shapes and sizes. My eyes filled as I remembered the little Christmas gift I had found on my bed before she left. All her saving and economy, and she hadn't forgotten me. And it was then that I realized how truly blessed I was, not only in material possessions, but to have a friend like my 'Tia'.

Train Tracks and Rabbit Trails

I'm seeing a theme!

Sometimes God will bring a lesson - a recurring theme - into my life through any means possible until I finally stop to listen. It's interesting how much more pressing daily, earthly details can become when I don't want to change... when I get, well, comfortable. To be very blatantly honest, when I get lazy in my walk with the Lord.You always learn the most about yourself - and your sin! - when a sovereign God steps in and rearranges your life. It's in moments like these, when I feel the weakest, that my perspective is, once again, set right. I get lazy rather quickly. But now - I'm wide awake.

Well, it all began with a song. It often does. Music has got to be the best medium one can possibly use to get through to me. I turned on the new album by Sara Groves, not expecting to hear anything particularly revolutionary or life changing. It seems that He often works the most when we're not expecting anything - and this proved true in my life that day. She began to sing about someone going through the motions of the Christian life - someone comfortable. She sang about a walk that looked great from without, but was hollow within. A life that was all show and no joy. And, much to my chagrin, I recognized myself in the song. As conviction rolled in, I tried to shut the image out with everything else - anything else.

Yeah, that never works.

Next, he used a book. Out of mere curiosity (and for lack of anything else!) I picked up a small book that had been collecting dust on my bookshelf for months: the Dangerous Duty of Delight by John Piper. There I found a passage that would threaten the course of life as I knew it. He used the modern term "Christian Hedonism" to describe a right view of God, and a way of life that the great saints of the past lived out with passion (Hebrews 11).

...if Christian Hedonism is old-fashioned, why is it so controversial? ... It insists that joy is not just the spin-off of obedience, but part of obedience. It seems as though people are willing to let joy be a by-product of our relationship to God, but not an essential part of it. People are uncomfortable saying that we are duty-bound to joy... joy is an act of obedience. We are commanded to rejoice in God...Maximizing our joy in God is what we were created for.

In his book, Piper quotes two amazing men of God well worth quoting - and their words both opened my eyes and cut me to the heart. I know few who would not be!

God is glorified not only by His glory's being seen, but by its being rejoiced in. When those that see it delight in it, God is more glorified that if they only see it. His glory is then received by the whole soul, both by the understanding and by the heart. God made the world that He might communicate, and the creature receive, His glory; and that it might [be] received both by the mind and heart. He that testifies his idea of God's glory [doesn't] glorify God so much as he that testifies also his delight in it. - Jonathan Edwards, The End for Which God Created the World, 1759

If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that the notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in te Gospels, it would seem that our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like and ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased. - C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Therefore, God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.

I've realized now that the whole of the Christian life is based on healthy balances. To balance brokenness with joy, theology with action, great faith with works to prove it - and to keep these solely through a complete dependence on the One who created them. I think I often separate the realms in which I live: the mind, heart, and soul - the intangible - from the tangible, my body and daily life. In my struggle against "practicality", I have banished from my faith and thought life. I've learned to go through the motions - I've taught myself to be blind. True worship is nothing, though, if not a way of life. What if my heart was so focused on God that my first response to anything was to immediately go before Him in thanks and praise? It sounds like a 'given' - but quite honestly, that's not how I usually live. Living in a fallen world, I'm far too ready to sacrifice this closeness for the trivial, the light pleasures offered us here that in the end will offer no true, lasting satisfaction. Paul, I believe, had found out the mystery of choosing joy, and for this reason he rejoiced in all things: in all advancement of the Gospel, in his thoughts of fellow saints, even in his own chains. Wow.

I'm thoroughly convicted. I've been chasing rabbit trails for a while now, I'm afraid - preoccupied with earthly things, rather how my walk looked than how it really was. With God's help I hope to get back on track: to refocus on the goal of my life: making God famous by rejoicing only in Him.

"Since then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory." Colossians 3:1-4

Just Showed Up for My Own Life
by Sara Groves

Spending my time sleepwalking
Moving my mouth but not saying a thing
Hoping the changes would take by working their way from the outside in
I was in love with an idea
Preoccupied with how a life should be appear
Spending my time at the surface
Repairing the holes in a shiny veneer

There are so many ways to hide
There are so many ways not to feel
There are so many ways to deny
What is real

And I just showed for my own life
And I'm standing here taking it in and it sure looks bright

I'm gonna live my life inspired
Look for the holy in the commonplace
I'm gonna wake up and feel all that's honest and real
Until I'm truly amazed

I'm going to feel all my emotions
I'm gonna look You in the eyes
I'm going to listen and hear till it's finally clear
And it changes our lives

Oh, the glory of God is man fully alive...

Caborca, Contentment, God's Overarching Sovereignty, and Other Weighty Matters

"Teach us, O God, that nothing is necessary to Thee. Were anything necessary to Thee that thing would be the measure of Thy imperfection: and how could we worship one who is imperfect? If nothing is necessary to Thee, then no one is necessary - and if no one, then not we." ~ Jeremiah Burroughs

It was late Friday night that we - the East Valley Caborca team - returned home, and I've taken a few days now for some thought and clarification. I've learned - or, at least, am trying to learn - never to speak too quickly about anything - and writing is exactly the same way. Hm, where to begin...

CABORCA EXPERIENCES
The body of Christ in action
Dust
Unity
Pastor Abraham
Cold
Great Mexican Food
Cross-Cultural Evangelism Team
Ministry in the city
Asparagus
Campo Viva
Worship
Children's ministry
Clowns
"beautiful feet" (thanks, John!)
Different Tribes desiring to hear the good news
Peoples from Southern Mexico responding to the gospel in repentance and faith
Campo Rocio
Believers with ONE purpose UNITED in GOSPEL
Cold cement floors
Gospel tapes in various languages
Ministry in the camps
Warm fellowship
La Alameda Village
The Passion
Friendship
Washboard roads
Chucking the deuces for Jesus
More dust
Campo 25 de Enero
Bibles arriving just on time
The prayers of our SENDERS back home
Many open doors
The power of God
Love
Abundant life
Spiritual warfare
"Yo quiero nadar en el rio de Dios"
"Swimming"
Hundreds of people heard the truth
Many of those responded
Rejoicing in Heaven
Rejoicing on earth
Instant coffee
Alfonso
Oatmeal
Ministry in the villages
Praise God from whom all blessings flow (sung in Chol, a Chiapan dialect)
God saving peoples through His people
God's great glory

To elaborate...

That first weekend we spent in the actual town of Caborca itself, in ministry with an amazing, very Gospel-centered national church there. Our main focus was a poverty-stricken colonia on the outskirts of the city, Santa Cecilia. That Saturday night, while the Jesus film played on the side of the RV, I joined the prayer team inside. It's always been incredible to see how God works when His people pray. In the midst of our prayer, the movie turned off completely, leaving our audiences to nothing but the dark and cold. We prayed fervently for the tech team that night. I've seen, on past trips, that God's sovereignty is always better than whatever else we may have had in mind, and I know that He will never impede anything that brings Him glory. Within minutes the movie was playing again. None of our audience had been lost. And better still - we had seen Him work.

As the movie wound up, a prayer request came in for a young girl named Myra, who had expressed interest in the Gospel, and was eager to know more. Once the Gospel message began, I felt an inexplicable urge to get outside and see what I might do. Searching for any opportunity to be of use, I noticed, at the very edge of the crowd, a young girl about 14 talking - or gesturing - with a few members of our team. Myra! It had to be. I made a beeline for the girl, and immediately introduced myself as Ana. She shook my hand earnestly, and told me her name was Myra. Gravity was the only thing that kept me from going everywhere at once. And then suddenly - as though spiritual warfare began in that very moment - I lost all words. There was nothing that I could say to this young girl, so desperate for answers, even for a friend. How I longed to share with her the hope that I had - the hope that can only be had in the Gospel - and yet, there I was, helpless. And then I realized - I had the testimony of God's grace and great mercy in my life! I had been saved - therefore, I had something to share, a story to tell. What could I possibly say that would be more real, more relevant to this young girl's life? From then the story of my own story - let me rephrase, GOD'S story in my life - gushed forth. It was no longer me speaking, but the Christ that was in me. What a beautiful thing it is to be merely an instrument in the hands of an almighty and truly awesome God. Example of glory #1.

The weekend over, the real central part of our ministry began: the camps. In Caborca, (and in many other cities across Mexico), agricultural 'camps' are instituted that house workers to plant and harvest the region's multiple crops. Most all of these people are brought en masse from the South, being promised higher wages and a place of shelter. Here in these camps can one often see the depths of real poverty. And here in these camps, there is a great need. Drawing from past experience, I knew exactly what to pray for in my own heart. I have a very great tendency to depend entirely upon myself: my reliance, being a rather veteran missions worker, is often on myself, on my abilities, and my expectations, my focus, are often distracted from their goal. I prayed that Sunday night, and I prayed all through Monday morning and afternoon. Slowly, I began to feel my heart prepared. The Lord used a piece of good Christian literature - The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment by Jeremiah Burroughs, a devout Independent minister from the early 17th century. One particular paragraph took me entirely by surprise, and taught me a valuable lesson. The English, at times, borders on the archaic - but it makes the simple truth spoken all the more beautiful.

A gracious heart is contented by the melting of his will and desires into God's will and desires; by this means he gets contentment. This ... is a mystery to a carnal heart. It is not by having his own desires satisfied, but by melting his will and desires into God's will. So that, in one sense, he comes to have his desires satisfied though he does not obtain the thing that he desired before; still he comes to be satisfied with this, because he makes his will to be at one with God's will. This is a small degree higher than submitting to the will of God. You all say that you should submit to God's will; a Christian has got beyond this. He can make God's will and his own the same. it is said of believers that they are joined to the Lord, and are one spirit... A gracious heart must needs have satisfaction in this way, beacuse godliness teaches him this, to see that his good is more in God than it is in himself. The good of my life and comforts and my happiness and my glory and my riches are more in God than in myself.

Wow - what a beautiful thing. We, as humans, were made to serve a purpose, to bring glory to someone, to something. The unbeliever has not found this purpose - therefore he wanders aimlessly and has no peace. The person, however, whose hope is in the Lord, has purpose indeed, and the Holy Spirit inside him (or her!) will lead them to accomplish this. Once again - I'm just a broken instrument that God, in His great mercy, has chosen to use.

It's funny - you've got to be careful what you pray about - for what you ask in His name, He surely will answer. Our first camp was labeled Campo Viva, and, once again, pride took over. (When He said this was a fight, He wasn't kidding.) I'd worked at Campo Viva twice now - I was, indeed, a veteran, and I intended (although I never would have admitted it!) to display my talent and ease in this camp ministry as a whole. Once again, I lost the words - it seems that a divine sense of humor was playing a role in my life. Introductions - pleasantries - were a chore, and I found myself unable to understand even the simplest Spanish that I was presented with. As it grew dark, I returned to the van, inwardly kicking myself for passing up all Gospel opportunities, for making a fool of myself with the infamous tape player, and for my the worry and fear that seemed to plague me in that moment. I breathed a sigh of relief as the Jesus film began playing on the side of one of the barracks, and with an air of resignation I propped myself up against the vehicle for about an hour and a half.

At the point of the crucifixion the movie was paused and Pastor Alfonso came forward to share 'a few things about Jesus'. My eyes widened as dozens of campers came forward to repent of their sins. I wonder that I should be surprised - I guess I still haven't fully grasped the depths of God's ability to change lives yet. My own salvation continues to be a mystery - albeit a beautiful one. All those who had expressed interest received a Spanish Bible, and I watched as each one came eagerly forward to receive theirs. One man who had been close to me against the van for the duration of the film returned to the same place, with a new light in his eyes as he gazed at the brand new Bible he held in both hands. As he stood there gazing at it, one of his more skeptical fellow campers came from behind and snatched the Bible for a closer look. "What is this?" he asked the first man. "Is it worth anything?" After thoroughly looking it over, he carelessly threw it back at the new believer. The owner took it back carefully, his eyes still fixed on its cover. "And in here, here in this book," he said, "you will find the truth." This man, who had known the Lord scarcely five minutes, was already sharing with those around in him! When God works in a life, in a soul - it shows - and I prayed that I would never doubt His ability to do so again.

Finally, I got to see the body work as a whole. During one of the final days of the trip, we split up into teams and took off to share the Gospel in Diamante, the town we were staying in. As we went from house to house, we were surprised that no one at all seemed to be at home. Every house, every yard, was completely empty. Just as we were about to give up, we came upon Camilo. He was sitting alone, a solitary figure against the background of dust and sky, and immediately I remembered him. Six months ago we had visited Camilo and his wife, shared the Gospel, left a Bible, and had gone. A Mexican team member, Abram, went boldly forward to talk to the man, and I followed close behind.

An hour and a half later, I was thanking the Lord that only Camilo had been home that day. One man heard the Gospel - the full, complete, clear, beautiful Gospel. Abram fearlessly shared the Word with him, and I interjected whenever Abram was at a loss for words. Our two other team members, although they couldn't personally speak Spanish, prayed fervently for us as we shared with the man. Embedded in tradition, myths, and Catholicism, Camilo couldn't understand his need for a Savior - but he heard the full truth that day, and we left him sorrowful, and yet rejoicing in our own salvation, that our own eyes were opened to the mystery that is foolishness to those who cannot see.

God's glory was clearly manifest in Caborca. I thank the Lord that I was allowed to be a part of His work.

What a God we serve - great is His name!!!

"God created us to live with a single passion: to joyfully display his supreme excellence in all spheres of life. The wasted life is the life without this passion. God calls us to pray and think and dream and plan and work not to be made much of, but to make much of him in every part of our lives." ~ John Piper

Taking a Moment to Prepare

Caborca is tomorrow. And honestly, I am exhilarated.
Naturally, I tend to be somewhat of a skeptic. Pessimism runs in my sinful veins, and once I get used to something, I'm just that. Used to it. Apathetic. Oh, how I hate the word, and how often I resort to it. But, guess what? God is bigger. Yep, that's right.
In Caborca, I have seen God work. And I mean, really, really work. The change-lives, split-the-skies, jaw dropping kind of 'work'. Wow, what an opportunity to be a part of His work again - I think sometimes we fail to realize what a blessing it is to be used by Him! It's funny how distracted we - well, I know I - get distracted here. And even without all the modern conveniences (oh boy, no Internet!!!), life goes on, and it's pretty good, too. A few (thick!) sweaters, a Bible, notebook, yes, some deodorant... not to mention great fellowship... Caborca existence is a beautiful thing. As an added bonus, there's lots of opportunities to come out of the good old comfort zone - especially if you happen speak Spanish. (!) Mine is a formidable thing - complete with thick hardened walls surrounding its small space. So, I get a chance to step out in faith, and you... well... pray hard, those of you staying... that His name - and His alone - might be glorified.

God's going to work, I know it. He's going to do great things. May I work towards great things myself - for Him.