This week marks 11 weeks until launch! Oh my gaahh!! *insert freak out moment
I bought my backpack on Tuesday! I’ll carry my home on my back, just like a turtle. As I strapped on my backpack and felt the weight on my shoulders, I could feel my heart clash with emotions. The excitement of traveling, but the heartache of missing home
I still can not believe my life is about to change so drastically and so quickly! This opportunity to travel to eleven countries in eleven months, never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined it. Being a first generation immigrant child have set some ‘boundaries,’ but I wouldn’t have it any other way. My parents are from Mexico City and have lived in this country for twenty-eight years. America is home. As I’ve grown older, I have been able to meditate and appreciate every sacrifice they made for our family. To think that they were only eighteen and twenty-three years old and with a heart full of dreams they left the only safe haven they knew. I remember as a child I would tell my dad, “I want to travel. I want to see the world. Dad, I want to go to Israel and Africa. I want to go.” My dad would very calmly respond, “You will go. You’ll go so much further than me. That’s why we’re in this country, so that any opportunity that comes your way, you’ll take it.” Even as a young child, I believed and knew down in my heart that everything my dad said was the truth.
Fast forward about fifteen years and I live in San Antonio working at a children’s shelter. The shelter provides care for unaccompanied male minors traveling across the south border of the United States. Working with these young men became my mission field on a daily basis. Every young man had a unique story to tell. Their motive behind leaving home. Their course of travel. Good Samaritans they met on the way. The sacrifices they had to make. Their family and loved ones they left behind. Each one so different, but equally important.
Fast forward one more time to about a month ago. At our local art museum, they had set up an art display called “Border Cantos” which translates into ‘Border Songs.’ I was so intrigued and stopped by on a quiet Sunday afternoon. As I walked around the gallery, I couldn’t help but to think of the young men I had the opportunity to work with in San Antonio. With every picture I stopped at, I could see their eyes full of hope and dreams. I took time and read every description for each display, but a couple in specific caught my attention. The first one read,
“It made me wonder what would it take to make me put on a backpack and leave everything behind. I can’t imagine.”
In a split of a second, I knew that the Lord was speaking. I stood in the middle of an art gallery having an honest heart check. What is moving ME to put on a backpack and leave everything I know behind? But really, what is it? And all my heart could answer was love. Love for the One that created me. Love for those that have never heard the name of Jesus. Love for the orphaned. Love for widowed. Love for the least of these. I continued to walk around the gallery and I thought of my parents story. Their story that led to my story. How the Lord had so intentionally moved their lives so that we could meet Him.
The next display that caught my heart were the various items left along the border. Each item meant a life; something they held dear enough to their heart and were willing to carry it across borders. Displayed was a picture of the New Testament lying on the desert floor. Somebody had found refuge in the Word of God in the middle of transition. I immediately felt like I could relate. I’ll soon be transitioning and moving across borders; the Word will be lamp unto my feet and comfort to my restless heart.
The last display that made me stand still was an old, faded backpack. The description of the display named each item carried. Again, I felt the Lord tug at my heart. The description read,
“If you had to leave home today with only what fits into a backpack, what would you take with you and why?”
What will I take with me? Will I be so preoccupied with over packing every single thing I could possibly need? What do I hold dear enough to my heart? Of course I could go through a packing list like water, clothes, tent, sleeping bag, but I want you to take a step further with me.What will I carry in my heart to facilitate this travel?
“But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things!”
Galatians 5:22?-?23 NLT
Community living is hard! After living three years in a girls dorm during college left me with enough stories to cry, laugh and almost pee my pants for days. As many headaches that it left me, I wouldn’t change a thing! Community is, yes the hardest, but also the most rewarding. The relationships and bonds I have build, I know will last for a lifetime. You have to know that none of this is possible without the fruits of the Spirit. Trust me, you have to exercise patience when your roommate’s alarm goes off at 5:30 a.m. because she was going to workout, but the only thing she’s working is how deep she can breathe in her sleep. Self control has to be put into action when your hall is doing a ‘food run,’ but you know your bank account won’t allow it. When having a ‘teachable moment,’ kindness is the key to effectiveness.
As I prepare my packing list, I know that each one of the gifts have to be strengthened. Eleven months of traveling sounds amazing, but you see someone’s true colors when you travel with them. All this to say, I can’t wait for community living! I know there will be areas in my life that the Lord will highlight by using my teammates in a way that nobody else could. This is where ‘iron sharpens iron.’ The countdown continues and the jitters increase.
I just want to take a moment to encourage you. Whatever your story is, know that the Lord has been intentionally weaving it together for His glory. His word says that He knew us before we were in our mother’s womb. Before you were in even a thought in your parents mind, He knew how you would come to play a vital role in His story.
Keep believing. Move forward. Enjoy this crazy ride called life.
From one vulnerable heart to another,
Diane
P.S. Here are some shots of the ‘Border Cantos’ display
