Una Foto

{Photography credit goes to Rafa.}

Picking Fruit.

A few days ago I went to pick fruit from at a neighbors.  At the end of an hour or so there, the basket was full of peaches, a few apples and a couple of pears.   The fruit was pretty ugly on the outside, but when pealed, cut up, and the blemishes are removed, I could almost imagine myself savoring a Georgia peach.   Almost.    It was the end of the season for the peaches, and pretty soon the pears will be ripe.  I was invited back and told to take all I want from the trees that are already handing with what promise to be wonderful juicy pears.   It is eagerly anticipated….

Fresh Blankets

 

 

After 2 hours of hiking, it is semi-dark and we are just barley beginning to see the lights of Mixtla, our destination for the evening.   It is January 2010 and I and six others have been staying with the people of the mountains in there homes for over two weeks.  Our base home is the house of a single mother and her four sons.  The oldest son, age 16, is married, and him and his 15-year-old wife and their 2-year-old son live with his mom too.  The time we have spent there, we have stayed up into the long hours of the night chatting, laughing, and making tortillas.  The family has electricity, but all the cooking is done over a wood fire, and running water is unheard of.   Because of this and the cold, most of us have only bathed once in the week and a half that we have been there.  Three days ago we hiked up to another village, Tlaxticuapa to plant gardens, apply medicine to children with a skin disease,  and just be with our brothers and sisters in Christ there.  

Now it is three days later and we are returning back to Mixtla for another few days there until our two weeks there will be up.   We return late, but are greeted warmly by the entire family, and a hot meal of tortillas and black beans are waiting.   We eat quickly, say   goodnight, and us girls pass into the room were the four us shared a bed, changed without saying much, then climbed into bed, ready for a night’s rest. I pull the blankets up tight and smell something wonderful.   Cleanness.  In the little time we had been gone, the 15-year-old mother took the time to hand wash blankets in the cold so that we, dirty unbathed, sweat smelling girls, could have clean bedding the few more days we were going to be there. 

I washed blankets this past week, and in doing so, I thought of her.   I began to have a new appreciation for her and what she humbly did that week a year and a half ago that spoke volumes to my heart.   The time that we were there we saw new people come to Christ, children receive medicine they so desperately needed, vegetable gardens to give fresh produce to a people who hardly ever have it, and hearts encouraged.   We were told to take pictures, write reports, and make presentations about what we had done those two weeks.  But this past week as I thought and prayed for my friend, I found myself asking God to change my heart to be like hers.  To make me faithful with what I have been given, to welcome people into my home, and to love others and Him the way she does.  And I ask myself, when God watched that week the going-ons of small village in the mountains of Mexico, who delighted His heart? 

{A note on the pictures from this post:  Some are from the 3-years Rafa worked in the mountains, as he spent a lot of time in the villages mentioned above as well.  Some are from the few months I went there every week, and some are from when I went back for a visit this past May when the group from Augusta was there.  All of them were taken in the areas mentioned in above post, with the exception of the last one, which is from today here at home.}

Quite and Peaceable

Peace fills the house.  Lunch simmers on the stove and the front door stands open, the cool breeze passing through.  Freshly folded laundry sits on the table, waiting to be put away.  Match box cars fill the other end of the table while their owner, 6-year-old Gael sleeps under a blanket canopy in our bed. How I have enjoyed {his} summer vacation.  My days are filled with a little boy companion, bloody mouths, desperate searching for bathrooms, and a million questions.  I do not babysit him.  I ask for him to come over and play.  He has a place in my heart that I never knew existed.  I just hung up with Rafa.  He is on his way home for lunch.   Life is calm and beautiful.  And it is greatly appreciated after the curve balls the past couple of weeks have thrown us.  We live thankful for the life we have, the love that is shared, the hardships that come, and the grace that covers it all.  

We live thankful, because what else could we really? 

“…that we may lead a quite and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty. For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior.” 

It’s Monday.  Again, just another day of the week.  

We are still without internet, and as I suspected, the internet company has us running around in useless circles for the fun of it.  We were given a number to call to report the fried modem.  Call the number: no answer.   Call again:  a bunch od recordings.   Go back in person to the internet office  only to hear, “We cannot give you a new modem until you call to report the damaged one.  Keep calling.  Be patient.”  Well, if I have not mastered patience at I have been here in Mexico a year, then I will never learn it. 

The weekend was lovely.   I somehow caught a cold.  And not just the normal stuffy head junk, but the ache-y tiredness all over part.   But I am not one to complain! Thanks to my dear husband and wonderful in-laws, I was well taken care of.  Warm cinnamon tea with a hint of sugar and a splash of lime, several long backrubs, and the extra little things Rafa did around the house because he knows I just rest better when the house is tidy.  I am not sure what all I have ingested medicine wise since Friday evening, but it has done it’s job

We also have new neighbors.   A nice couple with two adorable daughters.  Ages 2 and 4.  But wait!   It gets better!   They speak English.  Not their first language, but they speak it well.  I have not come across anyone truly English speaking here, and what do you know?  They showed up at my doorstep!  I think we may have found some new friends. :)

I just got a text from Rafa saying he was on his way home for lunch.   And guess what?  I still get butterflies in my stomach.  Being married has not and perhaps, never will be easy, but it’s the BEST.   I enjoy being married and I love being Rafa’s wife. 

And he is here now, so off I go! 

xoxo

Kat 

lightning bolt.

It’s Friday.   That really means nothing special, just a day of the week.   But it is special because “this is the day the Lord has made, {so} I will rejoice and be glad in it!”  

Our internet (which is still at my suegra’s until we move into our new house) has been down the past couple of days thanks to a nice lightning bolt.  Other people on the street are without internet too, so we know it is not our problem. I know I should go to the internet office and talk to the people there, but I do not want to hear what again “Venga la otra semana porfavor.”   (“Please come back next week.”)  It seems to be the most popular phrase which really means, “We-have-no-idea-what-to-tell-you-or-we-know-you-are-not-going-to-like-what-we-have-to-say, so I am just going to tell you to come back next week.” Most of the time they have you come back next week at least five times in a row.   It’s cruel really.  But now that I understand the system, its all a lot less frustrating, and a lot more entertaining. A great way to meet people.  “Hola, my name is Kat, this is my account number.   I am experiencing X problem.   Great meeting you.  And of course, si, I will come back next week.”   Everyone in the towns record office, and just about everyone at the electricity office,  knows me by name.  Pretty soon everyone at the immigration office, and now the internet server, will too.  

That same lightning bolt always fried an uncle’s TV too.   His son…my six year-old-cousin Gael who sometimes shows up here on the blog, is lost. He has no idea what to do with out 24/7 TV access, especially now that it is summer.  So we have been spending a lot of time together.   The other day we ran errands together and then went home to fix lunch.  As he was topping a casserole with  cheese before it went into the oven he peered up at me and said, “Umm, Kat, does Rafa actually eat what you make?!”

The next day he and another friend of ours came over.  We made sugar cookies.  Gael had the idea to pass them out.  It was a wonderful idea, so we sat down, made a list of potential cookie receivers, and then they each picked two people.  

They made cards for each of their selected people with the title “5 cosas me gustan de ti…”  or “5 things I like about you…”  I was blessed to be one of the people chosen to receive cookies and a card.  They did all the selecting, I promise!  Here are the things my card said,

• I like how you smile.
• I like your hair.
• I like your eyes.
• I like your hair.  (I must have some pretty amazing hair!)
• I like your shoes.
• I like your glasses. 

We packaged it all up, and then made our deliveries.  We came across a couple very surprised people and we had a wonderful time passing out the cookies. 

Yesterday us women folk of the family where invited to an uncle’s workshop.  It happens to be where Rafa works, so I had no problem going along.  We bought gordititas and a coke and enjoyed the couple of hours we spent there.  I enjoyed watching my husband hard at work and giving thanks to the Lord again that he spends his day doing something he loves. 

Last night we invited a couple of people from the family to come watch a movie.  I made apple tea and they were going to bring sweet bread.  Normally when we have people over for a movie, we set up the air mattress in our bedroom, place the laptop on a chair, and hook up the speakers. {Rafa has dreams of an in home theater.  One day, they may come true, but for now he does a great job with what we have.} Then we all prop ourselves up with pillows and settle in for the movie.  Well somehow, the amount of people that came over last night were more than double the expected!   So we pulled the mattress out into the living room, placed them long ways along the wall, and filled them with pillows and blankets.   One giant sofa!  When the amount of people double, the amount of food normally triples!   We had a grand time, even though we lost a few people during the movie to sleepiness.  

We were so tired afterwards, that we just curled up under the blankets in the living room and slept there all night long. 

Rainbow.

Saturday evening. We walk back to our apartment hand in hand from an afternoon spent painting out house.  Hunger turns in our stomachs.   It is still early, but we had seen the sky and knew rain was on its way.  Rafa looks at the dark clouds closing in on us and the bright sunlight still shinning brilliantly just a couple of blocks in front.   He says, “There is going to be a rainbow.”   We walk quickly, almost  running to bet the storm.   We begin to feel soft drops splatter across our faces.  “There it is!”  he cries with a grin.   I turn to look behind me. A rainbow gleaming in a perfect semi-circle; not one end or the other can be seen.   We hug tight and Rafa takes a couple of pictures.  How awe-striking it is to look back at the storm and see a rainbow.   A symbol of God’s ever faithful promise to mankind.  

Last week we found ourselves caught unexpectedly in the middle of a storm.  The situation, which was mostly not of our making, is almost completely resolved now, but in those moments of unknown, it seemed like an eternity.   It was a battle not to panic, not to think about the “what-ifs”, to choose to remember, and give Him thanks through it all.   Something I wrote in one of those moments:

“We are at peace because we know Who we serve.  We are His children and He is our protector.  He does not give us the grace today for what will happen tomorrow, but His mercies are new every morning and  His grace always sufficient.  In Him {alone} we live, move, and have our being.”

The same God who was with Noah all through the flood that destroyed the rest of mankind, is the same God who remained with us through the small, yet intimidating, personal storm we passed through last week.  

So, we stood there hugging in the rain, taking in the majesty of that rainbow that Saturday evening, remembering our Savior and His faithfulness  that we had seen yet again in our lives just that week.   We stood in the middle of the storm, looking at His promise; a rainbow.