Streams in the Desert

Moving to Mexico for the Summer

“Will you move to Mexico?”

I have no idea how many times the question has been asked our family—sometimes hinted, sometimes blurted outright, sometimes with tears.

Mexico is not a place I thought or even really wanted to go sometime ago, to be honest. “It looks like Mexico” is unfortunately a derogatory term people in Texas are familiar with—usually referring to a trashy dump part of town. That and other reasons are why “moving to Mexico,” even for only a short while, had not even crossed the radar screen of my mind.

And yet, Isaac and I have wound up going to Mexico nothing short of 11 times, in the span of about 2 years.

We haven’t come here because we dreamed of doing so, but because we dream of doing God’s will. And somehow, He keeps drawing us to serve in this part of the world where there are thousands of hungry people seeking after more of Him. When we are back at home, the faces of the people we love here continually stay in my mind and prayers, and somehow we keep coming back.

It’s a desert here in Chihuahua in more than one way. For one, the climate is the driest, most barren desert I’ve ever seen. Until you get to the cultivated Mennonite fields, there is nothing to see for hundreds of miles but desert rocks and mountains, and some spiny cactus sometimes. Then there is the desert inside of the people. While there are many truly wonderful people here, there are also more people suffering in depression and fear here than I think I’ve seen anywhere. That is the most formidable part of the desert.

We also will have our third baby here, surrounded by family and friends already also here. That is certainly not something I ever thought I would do either, but Isaac and I both felt God calling us to spend extended time here this year, and knowing God has spoken and is already guiding and protecting us is the best assurance I could ask for.

So we packed up our precious little blonde boys, and filled our car with the things we need for three months of living and drove through Texas and into the hot Mexican desert, again.

When we arrived to the simple gray house which our dear friends, David and Lisa Wolf have furnished for us, we found a candle burning with flowers on the table. We were welcomed with open arms and smiling faces, and the first tender green plants are springing out of the desert as it drinks in with thirst the first summer rains. Our little ones have been racing with delighted squeals over the tiles in our cottage, and we’ve been busy bringing in all the little details that will make it our home for the new little baby also. I am getting used to cooking and baking at close to 7,000 feet altitude (VERY different than at home!) and little Taramada (native mountain) children showing up at my door at all hours, asking for food. They’re too cute to turn down, even if I wanted to.

Most exciting of all, there has been an unprecedented move of God’s Spirit here—every day last week, people were filled with the Holy Spirit and set free from all sorts of bondage. They don’t even look like the same people we met when we got here. 14 of them were baptized this past Sunday, and the church building we were in nearly exploded with Mennonites (yes, Mennonites) shouting, clapping, singing at the top of their lungs in Low German,

“Hallelujah, praise the One who set me free!

Hallelujah, death has lost its grip on me!

You have broken every chain—there’s salvation in Your Name!

Jesus Christ, my living Hope!“

It was so full of life, and so different than the other services I’ve been in here, that I couldn’t help but cry my eyes out. I was thankful we had some help with the worship leading to compensate. :)

“Do not remember the former things,

Nor consider the things of old.

Behold, I will do a new thing,

Now it shall spring forth;

Shall you not know it?

I will even make a road in the wilderness

And rivers in the desert…

This people I have formed for Myself;

They shall declare My praise.”

Isaiah 40: 18-19, 21

Already, we see a new thing. It might be a desert, but already streams are bursting forth. What a tremendous honor to see it happening and to be a part.