Caravana a Acatlan

 

So last week, while the Zaragozas went on vacation, the Pescadores de Hombres team headed south to Acatlan, Puebla, Mexico for a medical missions trip. Acatlan is pretty much desert, pipe organ cactus and prickly pear all over the place, but it's got a really nice plaza and cathedral downtown. Once again I was dental assistant, but for once there was a series of patients and situations where I was the best for the job. We had probably seven or eight kids between 4 and 10 come in for extractions, and about half of them were terrified of needles, or just afraid in general. So I was able to help calm them down (and occasionally hold them down) while the dentist put the anaestesia in and pulled the tooth.

Unlike the prison in Acapulco, we weren't inundated by patients, but as always, there was a steady stream of people just enough to fill the dentist's chairs for the week. I was struck by how easy it is to treat patients like well, patients rather than people. While we formed relationships with the local church well, I'm afraid some of our patients got the impression we were people who made gay jokes or talked about other doctors, rather than loving people interested in them and honoring God. Sobering. Just cuz you go on a missions trip doesn't mean you're glorifying God. (But the Coronel here usually is.)

However, there was much conversation and prayer and encouragment with our hosts, a sixty-something but quite lively (like high-school cheerleader exuberant) doctor and her son. I was pretty overwhelmed by her the first night, as I was trying to journal with my headphones on and she was like "LISTEN to Tercer Cielo" (a pretty cheesy Christian couple pop group). But she gave us ice cream, lots of care, and lots of encouragement.

We worked four days from 10a-4p in two different neighborhoods. Which left us some time in the evenings for exploring. The first day we climbed to a cathedral overlooking the city. I always like to go into the Catholic churches and pray for the cities I'm in, or just stop and be like "Hey God, I'm tired from all this walking. Got an answer on what's next yet?" One evening, I put some David Crowder in the headphones and set out to find the "Hill of Three Crosses." As I was climbing the hill, I passed a priest and a small congregation having a service outside in plastic chairs, and they were singing "Lord have mercy on me" at the same moment as David Crowder. :) The crosses were impressive in the twilight, and I thought about the eclipse, or how night turned today, when Jesus was crucified. It looked like that, and I imagined this desert hill overlooking the town was probably not so different than the one in Jerusalem. I prayed for about 30 minutes, sorting and questioning and just falling on my knees. It was good. Although I was reprimanded for disappearing for an hour and a half, I thought of all the things I did that week, this was perhaps the most like Jesus. He too was reprimanded for disappearing to the hills to pray.

On the last night, we played soccer and I scored two of our three goals...in jeans. (ugh) And made one of our team members cry. :/ I was trying so hard to not kill anyone or knock them over! After that, four of us went back up to the hill of three crosses. We chatted, mused mostly, but before we went down I was like "let's pray," and we did, and it was really good. Although I lead worship every morning BEFORE breakfast (I'm of the opinion that generally nothing good happens before 11am), I think that's what it means to really lead worship. To be like "hey let's pray" in the middle of, well, life.

God was definitely working on me and my attitudes this week. I have a hard time respecting people who aren't well...as intense, relationally-minded or hard-working as myself. And I realized rather than exhorting, I was discouraging in a couple situations. On Wednesday night, Dulce, Cesar, and I lead three songs of worship during the weekday service. Because of a lack of mics, only Cesar and my guitar ended up mic-ed, and Cesar took it away...as in, sang and added extra choruses when I was playing the next verse. It went really well, but it was a swallow your pride moment.

On Thursday evening we got to listen to two separate very inspiring sermons. First, we watched the testimony of a guy who smuggles Bibles into the Middle East. He was praying one day and God directed him very specifically and provided for him very specifically as well. His dad disowned him. The first time he smuggled into this very intense country, he spent an entire month wandering the country before finding a pastor he had the name of on a piece of paper. It was very inspiring, I know that I want that kind of purpose and intimacy with God in my life. And I thought about all these amazing missionaries and was like...hmm...I need to get serious about my quiet times. Cuz most of these people are spending at least an hour, and often spending multiple times a day seeking God.

The second sermon was from our friend Maricarmen. She and I were going to preach on the same day, but they decided to give us different days and so I promised to go to hers, but since I was in Acatlan, we had to listen via the interwebs. She preached about pretty much two things. Hardcore obedience and hardcore devotion to God. *fistgut* So God was definitely trying to get through to me, which is always cool.  Pray that I would be receptive in the midst of weariness, busyness, and plans.