How Then Shall We Live?

As we settle into our final few weeks here in Mexico, we wanted to take some time to share our experience so far. Life for us has consisted of refreshing spaces amidst a whirlwind of learning. The ministry we are partnering with, Urban Mosaic, is so incredibly vast and thorough in its holistic approach to transforming urban poor communities that we feel like little sponges desperate to absorb everything we are seeing. We are very excited to be able to share the heart of their work through video in the coming months.

The Mexican culture is a warm and laughing one, filled with sincere greetings, hard work and delicious food. We have especially enjoyed visiting local mom & pop shops, such as fruit and vegetable stands or the lavandería (laundromat), where we enjoy conversation with the same vendors who often singlehandedly run their business. Coming from a culture where consumerism is high, but actually having a relationship with who you are purchasing services from is becoming less and less, we have found our weekly visits with these vendors incredibly refreshing in the huge reminder that humans are everywhere and each one has a story. Probably most dear to us is the lavandería lady, Pati. She was taken with River from day one, wasting no time scooping him up in her arms and giving him loving nicknames like “Gordito” (Chubby) and “Guapísimo” (so handsome.) The second time we took our clothes to get washed, Pati was asking about River–when he was born and things like that–so I asked her if she had children. At first, she was quick to say that she had two teenage boys and it seemed that would be it, but then she softly added that she had been pregnant last year and was expecting a girl. She was so joyful to be having a girl, but in her seven month of pregnancy, her baby girl died in the womb. As her eyes fell to look at the counter, obvious pain in them, River spontaneously, like he knew what she said, reached his hand out and touched her face. She literally closed her eyes and smiled, soaking in his little healing baby touch. My heart burst in that moment. I was shocked that she was so honest with me about such a painful thing and I was overwhelmed to even consider how hurt she must be. But mostly, I was so proud of my sweet son who is already discerning the pain of others and extending his hands in love. From that moment, our visits with her became lengthier and they always include lots of holding River. She often will carry him with her to retrieve our clothes or to bring back our change, which is adorable. Errands used to be something that I dreaded, something to bustle through as efficiently as possible so you can get back to your life. But in this situation, spending an extra twenty minutes every time we drop off clothes or pick them up, just so Pati can get some sweet baby cuddles and smiles from River, feels like the smallest of offerings if it means that her grieving heart can be a little more lifted because of him.

Also during our time in Mexico, we have been taking time asking ourselves the question “How then shall we live?” This question has been one of the biggest driving questions throughout our journey, along with "How is each country/culture revealing an aspect of Christ in a special way?" and "What are the consistent qualities among believers of Jesus cross-culturally?” The last two are intended to guide us as we seek to answer the first, but “How then shall we live?” in our own culture, in our own context, amidst the good and the bad, remains a very intimidating question for us, especially with the current turmoil we have witnessed from afar. Sometimes it feels easier to stay tucked away in some other world, considered foreigners forever so we never have to face it. It’s not because life in other countries is easier or that corruption and chaos and war are not things–they of course are and in many cases much more so–but they wouldn’t be ours, because we would be outsiders. To consider a life in the States means owning up to our own stories, our own history, the whole of it, indeed the worst of it, and doing the grueling work of healing the land because it is ours to do so. The rainfall of questions feels painful as our lifestyles and spirits find themselves rearranged completely, but it is at the same time freedom because we are being formed into the truth of who we were always intended to be. Reconciling work is difficult but it is the main work of our loving King that we have seen in every place we have landed. Kenya. Haiti. Mexico. In each Christ's church can be found, working to reconcile the brokenness of their histories and present moments to the loving, justice-bearing Kingdom of Jesus. We as storytellers and filmmakers can consider ourselves doing no greater thing than that. We humbly ask for your prayer as we continue to seek out these answers, that we might be given the confidence and determination to lay aside what is asked of us for the sake of an existence on earth filled with purpose far beyond our small lifetimes. †

Here are some pictures from our time in Mexico so far: