Fourth Missionary Journey to Mexico

First leg, just getting there…..
Perhaps, Mexico is not the destination that may come to mind when missionaries are thought of, but surely missionaries are needed in Mexico as well as the United States, all nations as Jesus said.

Almost twenty years ago Mexico had taken up residence in my heart and to the depth of my bowels or bosom in the biblical sense. Unexplainable in the language of men, my desire for Mexico has been much like a lust, albeit a much more healthy dose.

This fourth trip was unique in the fact that I spent the first week visiting one of my oldest daughters, Teri, her husband Andres and their four children, two of whom I had not met before this trip. That week also turned into a missionary journey, for I was invited to speak at two different churches in the little “pueblito” of Santa Rosa, where my daughter lives. That one week visit alone gave me enough experiences and material to spend the next year writing.

I will try and do the trip and the experience justice, and I will try not to bore you to tears with the minutiae of daily events. I love minutiae, but I am pretty sure that not all people share my love of the minor details of life’s experience.

The flight into Mexico city via Houston was uneventful and without fanfare, without dogs, customs agents or soldiers disturbing my burnt out brain that was trying to squeeze itself out through my bulging bloodshot eyes. I was pushed out some big doors by some unseen force I have yet to define, and I began my wandering back and forth in my sub-catatonic state with a cardboard sign that read “Templo de Alabanza”, Spanish for Praise Chapel, desperately hoping that my ride would see it.
They didn't and so I went in search of the nearest Starbucks or a store that had "Sugar Free Red Bull". Red Bull won.
My two new best phrases "cuanto cuesta?" and “Puede hablar mas despacio por favor”.