Hermanos Y Hermanas

We just returned from an awesome week in Mexico City. There was a team of 8 of us, which included my big 6 year-old! From the moment we stepped off the plane I felt like I was home, I often do in different cultures. There was a little bit of chaos, uncertainty where to go and what form to fill out, different smells, sounds and people. Eliza started to cry and said, "Mommy, I want to go back to America." She changed her mind soon, though.

We stayed with host families of one of the churches in Mexico City. Our family had 4 kids and their apartment was half the size of our house! I was mostly impressed with the attitude of the believers there. They were so gracious and welcoming. They are a very personable people. We learned to call one another hermana or hermano, which means sister or brother. You shake hands and lean in for a kiss on the cheek with every person that enters the room or space you are in. You hear and say things like, "Mucho gusto!" and "Dios te bendiga" or God bless you, as you are hugging.


Most of all, I loved to worship with this church. Often we would sing the same worship song, in English and Spanish. They asked Marshall and his co-leader for the trip, Kenny, to lead worship. Often when they were done, the group would shout, "Autre, autre!!" or "more, more." It was incredible to imagine God smiling down on this group of misfits, uniting together across cultural, language and economical barriers. During each service they would have a time of sharing "gratitutes" or "words of thankfulness." Every time there was mention of either us blessing them or them blessing us and many tears of emotion along with it.

We ate a lot of authentic food, walked many miles to and from places, road the crowded subways, taxis, bicycle taxis and vans (without seat belts, I might add), climbed the ancient pyramids, dressed like clowns and led 2 kids clubs and toured the national palace and old cathedral downtown.



There were no stop lights or stop signs (the only one I saw was upside-down). There were pot holes as big as our taxi on the back roads and speed bumps every couple hundred yards on the "good" roads. You can't flush your toilet paper there. The water is randomly shut off. You can't rinse off your toothbrush or mouth with the tap water or drink it! There are little tiendas or stores every few houses, so you can buy a Coke or some candy anywhere.

All of these things describe our experiences in Mexico City, but the greatest one above all was experiencing God's presence with my hermanos and hermanas in Christ. The first night there the women of the church came to pray over each of us Americans, and the same with the men. As Norma was praying over me, I started to cry. It felt so good to be prayed over, even though I had no idea what she was saying! I felt the presence of God in it. Our last service together was full of tears as we all talked about how much of an encouragement and blessing we were to one another. Now that's how God intended our churches to be, reconciled to one another across barriers and encouraging and blessing one another in the Spirit!