I left my heart in Mexico

By Paul Bowers

This summer, I embarked on a journey that would change my life forever. I didn’t climb Everest or backpack through Europe; I barely even left the country. I went on a mission trip to Matamoros, Mexico, and the things I experienced will never leave my mind.

Most people come back from foreign countries with fascinating stories about the native cultures and customs, but to me these things were trivial. The real beauty of what happened in Mexico had more to do with what I saw God doing.

Preparations for the trip began months in advance, when a few students from the Fellowship of Oakbrook youth group met and picked out a mission field. Global Expeditions, an organization that sends teenage missionaries around the world, had sent us some information, and it piqued our interest. We prayed about it, and then we settled on a two-week trip to Mexico. The cost: a few thousand dollars per person. Ouch.

So, under the leadership of Lori Hamilton, an adult from our church, we quickly switched into fundraising mode. Throughout the summer, we did everything: garage sales, car washes, bake sales, hot dog sales, and even a Christian rock concert. After hours upon hours of hard work (along with some generous donations from friends, family, and church members), we were ready to go. The fact that we raised the money in time was no small miracle, and it was the first of many that we would soon witness.

Peeling ourselves out of our parents’ arms, we hopped on a plane and flew to Garden Valley, Texas, home of the expansive Global Expeditions headquarters. There, we met people headed for Spain, Panama, Jamaica, and other destinations, and we trained for the skits we would be performing in our respective countries. My group was doing a pantomimed drama set to music, and we spent the majority of a day practicing the timing and motions.

On our last night in Texas, we all crowded into the auditorium for a powerful worship service. When the music and prayer were finished, we walked outside and saw an incredible, torch-lit spectacle: Life-size wooden crosses were scattered around the campus, each with a country’s flag flying beside it. This is where I fully recognized what I was about to do. I had read the Great Commission (Matthew 28:18-20) many times before, but never had it dawned on me that this was God’s will for my life. Kneeling on the ground beside that cross, I gave it all up. All the distractions and problems in my life became insignificant as I devoted myself to serve the God and the Mexican people.

At around 2 a.m. the following morning, weary yet excited, we all piled into charter buses and settled in for the long haul. About fifteen hours later, we arrived in Matamoros at Campamento La Noria (English translation: “Camp the Noria”). Immediately, we realized that this was no Holiday Inn. We were sleeping on wood or concrete, there was no air conditioning, and we showered in the water that you’re not supposed to drink. The motto at the camp was, “Sometimes we have water. Sometimes we have electricity. Sometimes we have water and electricity.”

La Noria was rustic to say the least, but it helped us appreciate what many of the people in Mexico live with every day. One of the projects we worked on was reconstructing and reinforcing a house that had been blown down by Hurricane Emily. It wasn’t much to look at; it was about twice the size of a cubicle and had no electricity or plumbing. And yet, when I talked with the elderly couple who lived there, they couldn’t wipe the smiles off their faces. They lived in unimaginable poverty, but they were thankful for what the Lord had provided for them.

At the end of the first day of ministry, we were walking through the downtown area to get back to our bus. We had performed some dramas, and several people had gotten saved, but something happened on the way back that impacted me profoundly. Our group was passing through a particularly seedy part of town, and an old man started yelling at us and begging for money or food. We huddled together and kept walking, but as I looked back at that man’s eyes, I somehow connected with him and felt his pain. I wanted to stop and talk to him, but our group leader told us to keep moving.

I couldn’t forget the look on his face, and the thought of his suffering kept nagging at my conscience. I knew he didn’t have Jesus in his life, and it felt as if, by turning our backs on him, we had condemned him to Hell. That night, and every night since then, I prayed that God would put somebody in his path who could lead him to salvation. I never saw that man again, but from that point on, God gave me a new awareness of the hurting people all around me.

In the days following that heart-wrenching night, I met dozens of people going through ugly situations, many of whom accepted Christ. Through our group’s translator, I helped offer hope to two different men who were struggling with alcoholism. I prayed with a homeless man and let him know that God loves him even though the world gives him no respect. Our group met a man who had just left the Mexican Mafia, which I didn’t even know existed. He accepted Christ, made a commitment to turn his life around, and helped translate for us. God was working through me; I was just following His lead.

But we didn’t just work with adults. One day, we corralled all the kids in a neighborhood and held a Vacation Bible School in the middle of a soccer field. We played soccer, gave out candy, and made balloon animals (or at least tried), and then we got them to sit down and listen as we explained the story of Jesus’s sacrifice. One little boy rode me piggy-back for about half an hour, and I got pretty attached to several of the children. Kids aren’t really my specialty, but God used me to show them love. By the end, 25 kids accepted Jesus into their lives.

On our last day of ministry, everything went wrong. We were trying to do some dramas in a park downtown, but we had to call the authorities and cut through some red tape before we were even allowed to enter. Then, when we got our equipment out, we realized that we had forgotten the CD with the song we needed for the drama. On top of that, our speaker box’s battery was dying quickly.

Despite all the technical difficulties and breakdowns, that day proved to be the most effective of the entire week. We drew a large crowd, and many people accepted Christ. I guess it goes to show that it wasn’t just a bunch of teenagers running the show. Obviously, we weren’t very good at it. God was working the whole time.

After we finished the drama, I noticed a nine- or ten-year-old boy who was moving himself around with the help of a walker. He was trying to teach himself how to walk, but he kept falling when he let go of the handles. I took a group of four other missionaries, and we talked to him for a while. We found out that he was born with a disease that kept his knees from bending, and it hurt his legs when he tried to walk. We gathered around and prayed that God would heal him, and as soon as we said “Amen,” the boy pushed the walker out of the way and started walking toward a nearby soccer field where a game was in progress. We watched in awe as he sped up and broke into a run, and I had to chase him down and pull him out of the middle of the game. Panting and ecstatic, the boy explained to us that the pain in his legs was gone. Praise God.

I could go on for pages with stories from Mexico, but all the stories share a common theme: God did incredible things. I was just an instrument.

Back home in the States, I’ve developed a new appreciation for things like drinkable water and air conditioning. And yet people here are going through the same spiritual pain I saw in Matamoros. I see many of the students at my high school, and I can tell they’re not happy. Maybe they’re addicted to drugs, maybe they’re contemplating suicide, or maybe they just need someone to love them.

Maybe I never left the mission field.

Sidebar:

Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

-Matthew 28:18-20