Merry Christmas from my "hood" in my hoodie..breaking the rules this Christmas

For a recent update - one minute video of girl time in my hood...

Everyone knows the unspoken rule. Christmas cards are for cute couples and shiny families sitting in a country field with matching christmas attire. They are not for single people, wearing no make-up posing with their neighbor kids in uncoordinated hoodies on a random Sunday.
So this year I am pretty much breaking all social faux pas.
Merry Christmas from my "hood"-ie to yours. 

Falling in Love with a Country

It all began when I was 14. That was how old I was when I asked my dad if we could live in Mexico. Somewhere between the border crossing and fish tacos I fell in love and it only took a week. I was so smitten that I cried five hours up the Mexican interstate back to the US border. The culture shock and grief lasted for months. It was a defining moment in my life.

Last week I went back. Funny how what is foreign can feel so much like home. Actually, for a year and a half I returned to live in  "Clinica La Esperanza", a Medical Clinic and Missions Site in Nueva Odisea (a small fishing village on the Baja) after college.

Truly a part of me I didn't know came alive somewhere on those dusty pothole laden roads. During that year I learned to brave the challenges of third world plumbing, enjoyed the delicacies of fresh tortillas and spent hours with indigenous families living in corrugated metal and dirt floors homes.

Each time I leave Mexico, a part of me always stays behind and remains homesick for the foreign place that feels like coming home.

An impromptu photo after closing in prayer with missionaries in Sofia's home. Sofia, the woman who sang Spanish songs with me at dusk, showed me how to wash clothes by hand and made me realize corn tortillas off the grill will be served in heaven.

Orange Tutus and I love Jessie

Free pony rides.
That's right. The fall festival at my church created a little kids dream.  Carnival games, face painting, a climbing wall...add some candy and the day lives in infamy. Especially for the kids living two blocks away from church who cannot afford the NC State fair.

Word spread like wildfire and they came in handfuls.

One 5th grader from my community, in his exuberance, arrived early and tried out one of the inflatables unsupervised. Somehow the unfortunate experience left its mark. He now has a shiner.

Three girls attended the festival with me, one wore my homemade orange tutu. I think the orange mesh is still tussled in a wad on my backseat.

The event was such a success my 3rd grader neighbor called and invited herself to church with me. She and her sister, the kid I tutor, showed up promptly at my stoop at 8:15am. Maybe they wondered if the church had inflatables?

 Now they are hooked and love church.

After her first Sunday School experience, the 3rd grader presented me with a decorated page with the words I love Jessie. Jessie? She shyly confessed she was suppose to write Jesus. I kept her picture.

So it is true, God can use anything. Even orange tutus and pony rides.

The Alphabet is Hilarious and Yes 7 year old I am Single

Apparently the alphabet is hilarious. Last Wednesday I stared at the silly Kindergartener I tutor as she bust into a mysterious giggle fest while we reviewed letters. To be specific, she thought the letters "N", "S" and "J" are pretty much a riot. Just makes me wonder what will happen when we talk numbers.

As I left tutoring that afternoon, a 7 year old with a bouncy backpack took off full speed across the parking lot toward my car. She was screaming my name. Apparently there was a burning something in her soul that just couldn't wait. This was urgent.

Then it came......."Miss Jenny, do you have a boyfriend?" 

Did I mention she is 7? Awkward.

A few months ago the kids told me during an afternoon visit that they had gotten together, discussed it and came to a unanimous conclusion: They are not sure why I am single.

Truth is, I have a hard time explaining my status to myself half the time. I mean, I didn't sign up for this. However, I realize my own wrestling is rooted in the fact that that I don't fully trust the Sovereignty of God. So often, in my emotional audacity,  I tell God he pretty much doesn't know what he is doing, his plan is simply all wrong and his timing is off.

However, he is big enough to not only make the stars and change our circumstances but is All Knowing enough to leave us in our circumstances when it is for our best. Ultimately it boils down to if we really trust God.

"But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, "Why have you made me like this?"
           Romans 9:20

I will be held accountable for how I use this season. Not only for how I used the time, but for my attitude. Better to embrace it, awkward questions and all, and treasure the opportunity to uniquely extend myself to know God and love on my quirky Kindergarten neighbor who giggles about the letter "N".

                                                       the giggling Kindergartener I tutor

Pizza Boxes and Parties on a Random Tuesday

The kids are starting to take advantage of the hills around here by sliding down them on random items. Last weekend it was pizza boxes. I am sure at least 78% of them get injured as they glide with impressive momentum. It has really become a thing.

Tonight, on a random Tuesday, I went to a birthday party for a 6th grader. He gave me an invitation last week for "Jenny y familia". Because he can't stop talking about mangos from El Salvador, I got him a card and a mango and with the words 'El Salvador' in fresh black sharpie ink across the side. He laughed.

Here they do birthday parties right.  Birthday parties are intergenerational and the whole neighborhood comes out; it is truly a community event.  You could tell tonight was a big party because there was an inflatable. Upon my arrival I was greeted by neighbors - now- turned - friends with screaming, hugs and kisses on the cheek. The pregnant mother of the girl I tutor/mentor grabbed my hand and placed it on her belly so I could feel her baby girl's toe kick her. Of course the festivities were not complete without someone getting bit by a dog, two damaged piñatas, a mash-up birthday song with cha-cha-cha and a kid getting his face shoved in the cake. Not bad for a party on a Tuesday. Check out the 20 second video below for several highlights.

Video of Birthday Party

Late night chats, Porches and Parking lots

Live wisely among those who are not believers, and make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be gracious and attractive so that you will have the right response for everyone. ‭Colossians‬ ‭4‬:‭5-6‬ NLT

Sometimes I run into my apartment from my car and avoid my neighbors.
Especially on the long days after lending my exhausted ear after a day of counseling. Frankly, I don't have the energy. Sometimes my avoidance is wisdom and a part of setting healthy boundaries with others but sometimes I am being selfish, rude and am missing opportunities. This came to light during several late night chats.
Over the last few weekends, I have found myself in the twilight hours talking with women at my apartment complex on porches or in parking lots. A week ago I sat on lawn chairs with a group of  Senoras, as we swapped stories, family photos and struggles under the night sky and in front of a group of kids jumping rope. It was bonding.
Last night I debated having conversation with anyone.  As I started my predictable scurry routine from my car to avoid human contact something stopped me. My neighbor was outside with the hood of her car raised as she tinkered and poured water into something. She greeted me. Pause. In my mind there were the excuses. My purse was heavy. Ridiculously heavy. It was nearing midnight. Not sure what made me choose to hault and not bolt to my door.
After we exchanged some chitchat, and I set my bag of bricks down, we found ourselves in the middle of an honest conversation about God, how neither of us have it together, how to have a relationship with God and making sense of God in the trials. The time was closed in prayer.
As I entered my apartment I felt sobered. I don't like interruptions. I don't want life messier than it is and don't like my schedule changed. It is easier and more convenient to run.  However, as in the life of Jesus, interruptions may be opportunities. Especially, under the stars through random late night chats.

                             Pupusas, a  dish from El Salvador, made with Amor from a Senora

Living in a multi-cultural world. God's family is Color FULL and he likes it that way :-)

After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands,

Revelation 7:9

I think a lot about the fact that I am white as I am daily reminded of  it.
Where I currently live, there are only four other white people I know. It is the norm for people to point me out or identify me in relation to my race. At times I often get confused with one of the other "white girls" (my friend Rachel) who lives here. At times it is a conversation starter as neighbors often ask about my race because I speak Spanish. It feels weird, but a good weird as it makes me think about the subject of race. I am forced to challenge stereotypes my neighbors have towards me and contemplate how race plays a role in someone's identity. All of these interactions makes me feel more comfortable talking about race and culture. In fact, it becomes more necessary to talk about.

Yesterday, my new neighbor from Kenya stopped by my apartment while some kids from Uruguay were visiting me. Three countries, no three continents represented in my living room. Our conversation was a swirl of  foreign foods, stories of their family living far away and the best apps to communicate with others internationally. The differences made our conversation richer, more fascinating. At the close of our time, my neighbor offered to make us Kenyan food. My mouth maybe watered a little.

Moments like these fly in the face of the concept of being "color blind"  as an attempt to embrace diversity. A part of who someone is, is their race and their culture. If you are blind to a person's color (race, culture, etc...) you miss the true beauty of SEEING it. It is apart of seeing them. Of understand who they are.

The Bible and Jesus are not afraid to talk about race and how the gospel calls us to embrace cultures different from our own. Jesus intentionally caused a stir around the issue of cultural difference via talking with a Samaritan woman at the well. He had a frank conversation about it with her. Additionally,  an extension of God's call on Peter's life was to confront his own feelings about culture and race along with challenging the church to embrace the Gentiles.You see, as believers, we become a part of a multi-cultural , multi-racial family whether we like it or not. In heaven, God's family is from every nation, tribe and tongue. All have an equal invitation through Jesus to be at home, in his color FULL home with him.