that is where i am, dear ones. and this is the first chance i have had to get a note out to you all. i am fine, and in fact, am dreading leaving this place, just a little bit. we have been having such a good time. and i have to tell you that i do not think i will be the same person when i come home.
home...such a wonderful word. and home means so many different things to so many people. you would not believe the poverty in this place if i told you. or maybe you would. all i can tell you is that it breaks my heart. but it humbles me, too. and i can see the abuse by abundance that we place on ourselves, as well. oh, i am not saying that i am coming home to sell all my possessions and live with the poor. but i will certainly think about it. and i mean that in all honesty. i really, really, really mean that. right to the tips of my toes.
last night, we shared church with the people who worship at el buen pastor, the episcopal church we have been working with. maria elena is one of the priests, and she gave the sermon in english and in spanish. we made eucharist together, speaking different languages at the same time. it felt like pentecost mixed in with the magical mysetry tour. the older ladies at the church have been cooking for us all week, and they made us pasole last night. and we danced until we could not dance anymore. (incedentally, i cannot find the apostrophy on this spanish language keyboard, hence the lack of contractions...ay dios mio...)
anyway, maria elena began her sermon by addressing us as " my brothers and sisters" and i started crying. it was such a precious moment to me. in that moment, i realized the only thing of any worth i brought to my brothers and sisters in mexico is myself--just being with them. that is really the only thing of any value i have to give them. they do not need my standard of hygeine, just because that is what i am comfortable with. they do not need my news, or my ideas, or my ideals for that matter. they just need me to see them, to really see them. to see past the crushing poverty, the struggle for mere subsistance, to see past the nits and the dirt and the smells, and see that they are my brothers and my sisters. they are whole people. they are beautiful and broken and just like me.
i did not have time to go on this trip, for lots of reasons. i honestly do not think when i left san antonio i had room in my heart to be on this trip. too many ideas too many ideals too clean too american too much. and somewhere along the way, the Jesus who lives here and the Jesus who lives inside of me met and made something new inside of me. and thanks be to God for that. it was time.
blessed am i among women.
mil besos.
rmg
