Last week, my friends and I made a happy return to Croc, Mexico over spring break. The drive down was less painful with the hotel stops and the eagerness of the week ahead. Once we arrived in Croc and over-dramatically hugged our friend Justen (as if we hadn’t seen him in years), the evening played itself out slowly. The type of evening you wish you could replay over and over again. As I look back on Croc, I can not help but wonder why I feel the way I do when I am there. It’s as if Croc is a magical place where everyone is kind, communal and slow. Slow in the best way. Not the frustrating kind like people driving 35 mph in the left lane, but the good kind. Where everyone takes their time in conversations and truly wants to hear how you are doing. The kind of slow that takes you 30 minutes to walk a half a mile because of the constant conversation and awareness of one another.
I dream of a world in slow motion. Where we no longer hurry from place A to place B and hide behind clothing racks at Target to avoid talking to the girl in your English class. A world where we put our community first and everything else second. Where we actually acknowledge one another and take the time to hear each other out.
Although it is easy to romanticize Croc because we are only there for a week and get to come home to the comfort of our suburbia reality, I can not help but be a bit jealous of their value for community.
As I reflect on myself and the past few months I can not help but feel convicted. Convicted for putting school, work and myself first. Putting community, friendships, and God on the back burner because I am just “SO DANG BUSY”. Although I do value my school, work, and self-care, I have been sacrificing the most important things God has for me. My community. My friendships. My relationship with Him.
Croc, Mexico constantly inspires me and pushes me to think deeper and slower and I am grateful for that. I am grateful for the people of Croc who invite us to last minute fiestas, prepare wonderful foods (the best cheeseburgers in the world), and are patient with our broken Spanish. I admire the people of Croc and how they carry themselves with such grace and kindness. Where “mi casa es tu casa” is more than just a overused phrase, but implemented into daily life.
I am going to strive to find a balanced life. A slower reality where God and my community come first and everything else follows suit. One where I will talk to the girl from my English class at Target. One where I will take some pit stops in between place A and place B and be okay with it.
I took more home from Croc than I brought there, literally and metaphorically.
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