Leaving General Cepeda

We are leaving Gral. Cepeda today. Last night the Garza’s prayed over us before we left their house and of course the water works started. I really didn’t think I was going to cry, but sure enough, my face was red and my eyes full of tears before I knew what was going on. Tono said that it is pretty typical. Sarita and the girls and Andrea all cried when they left too, but they had been living here for a lot longer than myself. Maybe that’s a good sign that I’ll be back. I pray it’s so.

Anyways, we are just wrapping up a couple lose ends today before hitching a ride on the bus to Saltillo, where we will stay the night with Anai again. The boys will then pick us up at the lovely hour of 4:30am and we will be at the airport by 5am. Our flight leaves around 7:15am and before 9am we will be back in the US of A. So wierd.

A Few Meditations

Although this doesn’t directly relate to anything we’ve done per se, this conversation really blessed me last week and I thought it worth sharing with all of you.

Chris Alexander and I were reflecting on the fact that we are both of a rather more quiet nature than most of the missionaries that FMC attracts. Not to say that this causes problems, but it is difficult at times to live in community with people whose personalities are so unlike your own. Most of the time, we find great opportunities to grow and learn from each other, but at times conflict does arise, as is normal. We try to handle it the best we can, which given our tendencies is to handle it in silence. But as is the case as well, we tend to grow frustrated with our own silence. It is a conundrum of sorts, and this internal struggle was the topic of our conversation the other day.

Chris had called his mother seeking advice on whether he should try harder to be more outgoing or talkative, and he shared with me her response. She told him to value his quiet nature precisely because it is so rare these days. As she said, most people are so concerned with telling their story, with talking about themselves, that those who do not are actually a blessing in today’s world.

We started reflecting on this, after joking around about his being a blessing of course, and it reminded me of the passage in the New Testament that is often said in reference to Mary. “She kept all these things in her heart”. Mary is rarely documented as speaking in the Gospels. It made us think back to what an example she is to us as the first disciple and follower of Christ. And the only things she has ever been documented as saying, ever, was praise of God, and invocing His help and aid. In all her apparitions, she asks people to pray to her son and invoke His aid and gives Him praise . That’s it. That’s all the perfect disciple ever says.

I think about how much I say. I think about how much of it is worthless. I think about the fact that everything I should say should be only in praise of God and to call on Him in my life.

That is going to be so hard….

Last few days in General Cepeda

Our time is quickly coming to an end for this trip to Gral. Cepeda and I find my spirits dragging lower in seeming unison to every passing day. Not to say our time here isn’t still blessed or filled with wonderful occurances, but although I look forward to going home, I find a hole in my heart at the thought of leaving so soon. Tomorrow evening we leave for Saltillo, as we have to spend the night there in order to be at the airport by the recommended 2 hours in advance, which happens to put us there at the pleasant hour of 5am. We will be back in Houston before 9am and probably back to Louisiana in the early afternoon. It all seems so routine at that point. No more waking up early to listen for the door; No more wandering around town trying to buy a padlock when I really wanted a candle; No more translating country music into Spanish while watching the sunset with the Garza’s extended family. At the moment, I try not to dwell in my sadness (which unfortunately is compounded by the fact that I am a bit unwell at present) but look forward to our home visits for the next two days, and the prayer meetings we will go to. We still have a couple of potential adventures ahead of us as well! We still have bills to pay, shoes to deliver, and another family dinner to crash at the Garza’s! It makes me laugh to think of the excitement these things hold for me now, when back home these type of things were such bores to me. Now they are adventures in life, made so by language and cultural barriers! How exciting!

Margarite

Sign at the Boarder between the USA and Mexico

I think it appropiate to give Margarite almost an entire post to herself. This woman has blessed me by her story in such a profound way. Any woman in the United States in her situation would find it hard to get by, but especially here in Mexico her strength stands out.

Margarite knocked on our door our first day without the boys to translate for us. She was the second person to knock on the door and I was feeling a slight bit over confident after my success praying and helping the first woman who knocked our door. However, Margarite was on the verge of tears when I opened the door and when I asked her if she wanted food or water, she quickly shook her head and launched into a stream of rapid Spanish and started crying. I was in way. way. over my head. I had a quick flash of my dad with that look on his face telling me, “you know we can’t understand you when you talk while you’re crying!” I totally understand him now. And I didn’t know the words she using to talk to me. I tried calling the boys in Saltillo for help translating. No one answered. Another knock on the door! Oh no! This woman needed food. I understood that! Joanie went to get some food, when behold, another knock on the door!

At this point, I wanted to cry.

I answered it, to be crushed by another woman in greeting (this is normal as it turns out). Who asked for something involving prayer and needing to use the phone, something which I was pretty sure we didn’t really allow. She kept saying someone was dying or really sick and she desperately needed to call her brothers and sisters. At least this is what I thought I heard. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I understood and what I was making up at this point. Joanie returned with the food for woman #2 (whose name was Maria), when another knock sounded at the door. I tried to smile at Margarite to assure her that I hadn’t forgotten about her. Woman # 3 (her name is Goya as it turns out) answered the door for me and invited woman #4 inside.

I really wanted to cry now.

Woman #4 (Marisela, who is in fact Raul’s sister and a good friend of the missionaries, but I didn’t know that at the moment) only popped in to ask if a mission group was here (no), when one might be coming (possibly in August?), and if it was possible for someone to ship them some swim diapers (I definitely had to look up that word, not having needed to know the word for diapers before). I couldn’t really tell her anything helpful beyond I would ask about the diapers when I called FMC next, and I was sorry that I didn’t speak any better, but the boys would be back next Monday and they spoke better than I did. She thanked me and left. Whoa, I handled that one! Down to 3.

We prayed with Maria and over her food and she left rather quickly. Down to 2!

At this point, I had no choice but to call the FMC office in Louisiana. The boys in Saltillo weren’t answering their phone, and it was obvious that Margarite needed something really important, and Goya kept talking to me and I was having a hard time following her story about her family. Luckly, there are 3 or 4 Spanish speakers who work in the FMC office off and on and Joseph answered and was willing to translate for me. He spoke to both women and then told me what was going on. Goya is her mother’s primary caretaker can not leave her alone, but her mother-in-law is very near death and she wanted to use our phone to contact her family and in-laws in Monterrey, which Joseph gave her permission to do if she was quick and didn’t tell anyone in town that we let her use our phone. We tried to let her use the phone, but it actually didn’t work when she tried. We ended up buying her a phone card to call from the street and having a rather blessed conversation about our mission work and our time in General Cepeda. We eventually fostered quite a friendship with her and have been with her to visit her sick mother on a couple of occasions.

But I digress. Margarite waited patiently while we sorted out all these other womens’ concerns as we could understand them so much more clearly. We eventually called the FMC office for a translator to tell us her story which is as follows: Margarite lives at a Rancho that the missionaries used to go to pretty regularly for prayer meetings and catechisis. She and her two children would regularly attend and she would ask for prayers for her husband who had no prayer life to speak of, rarely helped her keep house, and had a tendency to drink too much. Most of her time at the prayer meetings she spent praying for her daughter who was born without a colon. This birth defect requires a life time of surgeries and other problems that Margarite can not afford and her husband shows little interest in helping the situation. At the time that she knocked on our door, Margarite had just left her husband to move into town and she was asking us for help with her groceries and if we could possibly help her daughter to get her next surgery. That her need was real and pressing weighed on me. Certainly we could buy her groceries for the week, but could we really do much more for her than to pray for her daughter’s healing? So that is exactly what we did. We bought her groceries and sat down to pray in English, Spanish, and Spanglish. She left that afternoon as a thunderstorm rolled in and it very much seemed to me that the sun had left with her.

That afternoon I thought back on the stress of the day and my internal count down of sorts of the women who knocked on the door. Trying to rush them out was not the reason why we were here, and I knew that. I felt that God was trying to let me know that I could actually handle quite a bit on my own. Even with minimal language skills, I helped and communicated with four women! All at the same time! And after that, the door was not a daunting aspect of our mission anymore. It has actually gotten to the point where I actually look forward to hearing people knock on the door, despite knowing I will embarass myself by speaking or that I have so little to give them.

Margarite came back to see us this week. Her daughter needs the surgery very soon as her stomach is growing bloated. We offered to take her to Saltillo with us when we next went, naivly thinking we might be a comfort to her at the hospital. She then told us exactly what the hospital required, which was to set the appointment in person, at least 24 hours in advance, and she needed to go on a weekday before 3pm. This proved problematic for us, as we try to do as much ministry work with Tono as we can here in town during the week. We came to an agreement though, when she told us she had been unable to find any work around town this week to earn the money for the surgery. We offered to let her clean our chapel, something we had been wanting to do, but lacked the time to do so, in exchange for the money for the bus fares and the surgery in Saltillo. She did such an amazing job in our chapel, she even thought to cut some flowers off the tree and place two vases full of blooms before our tabernacle. She hasn’t been back since she left for Saltillo, and we ourselves have been traveling to and from the city as well, so I do not know how the surgery went yet. But I am confident that God looks after and follows her like the sun.

Door Ministry

It’s hard to believe that my time in Mexico has flown by so fast. Joanie and I leave for the States in less than a week and I am pretty upset by that fact. However, my time here has given me ample time to know exactly what I need to do to prepare for a long term mission down here. First on that list is Language School. I had been hoping to avoid it, especially because of the great expense, but my heart breaks whenever I think on how much MORE I could do if only I spoke Spanish better. My Spanish has come along quite well in the last two weeks, but my pronunciation is awful and it leads me to hold back in public situations and prayer meetings where I would normally like to share or teach. I find I understand more and more every single day, but my vocabulary and recall when I speak is still pretty slow on the uptake.

The reason my comprehension is getting better is mainly because of the door ministry. The door ministry here used to terrify me. Before coming down here, I asked all the missionaries who used to live here what advice they could give me, especially considering my lack of Spanish.  They all said the same thing essentially. As long as I prayed with everyone, I have done my job. If I understand anything beyond that, I can do what I can. At the time, these words actually irritated me. Obviously, I need to pray with everyone, but these people are knocking on our door with very real needs, and if I wasn’t such an idiot when it came to Spanish, or if I had the money to go to language school, or if I didn’t have epilepsy in the language center of my brain, I could make a concrete difference in their lives as well! Despite my irritation, I knew that what they said made sense, after all, we are Evangelists first. The humanitarian aspect of our mission is like the fertile land in Egypt that is left in the wake of a (spiritual) flooding of the Nile. Of course we help when we can, but we are here to pray and tell you about God and Jesus.

So our first couple days at the door really weren’t so bad with the missionaries from Saltillo helping us ease into it. Of course, they speak Spanish pretty well by now. I will admit that when they left to return to Saltillo, my first moments without them as a language crutch were filled with panic. That first knock on the door sent my heart rate through the roof and sweat popped out on my brow. But my resolution was to never be a lazy misisonary. I could ignore the door, and just wait for Tono pick us up to go along with his ministry work. But frankly, I have lived far too much of my life in fear of the unknown. I opened the door.

This young girl really wanted a crucifix to wear around her neck, so I found one in the house and gave her the chain off my cross so she could have one

A rather large Mexican woman threw her self through the doorway, smothered me in a big half-hug/half-handshake, and gave me a wet kiss on the cheek. Now some of you may not know me all that well, but I have never been what someone would call ‘efusive’ in my displays of effection. But it was a good start. I picked out a couple key words like food and medicine, and over the next few days I learned several new words and improved both my ability to ask questions, communicate back and pray in Spanish. I haven’t felt this on fire in years. Of course there are words I don’t know, words to look up and at times, I call our missionary brothers in Saltillo or a Spanish speaker or two at Family Missions Company to help me translate and figure out what is going on. Sometimes I simply just can’t do any more. I have to just say, “I dont understand. I’m sorry” and offer them what I can give: food, water, and a bit of prayer. A couple people really just want a little bit of company.

Probably my most blessed day for speaking Spanish so far was last Sunday. The Saturday before, Joanie and I had decided to spend the day with our brothers in Saltillo, in order to see some of their ministry, meet some of their friends and colleagues and to run a couple errands that couldn’t be done in Gral. Cepeda. The day went long and we spent the night with Ana, one of the active teens at the parish Ojo del Agua where the boys live and work. The next morning, I felt convicted to return to General Cepeda for Sunday mass for two reasons; 1. We are on mission to Gral. Cepeda and should engage in the local community, especially for mass and religious obligations. and 2. The Sunday prior we were unable to attend mass in the town because of our attendance at the youth conference. I feel that it is important to try to interact with the people of Gral. Cepeda as much as possible, especially considering I am limited in what I can offer them at the moment. However, the boys had made plans with our friend Rodolfo (the one who gave all 8 of us a ride in his car) to climb a mountain outside of town Sunday morning and Joanie really wanted to go with them. So I left for Gral. early in the morning and made it back in time for mass. It was the first time I was actually without anyone I knew or someone who even spoke English. I sat in the back at mass trying to focus on listening and translating the homily. I actually understood about 2/3rds of it! That boosted my spirits! Then after mass Gema Garza ran up to me and asked where Joanie was, to which I told her she was with the guys in Saltillo for the day. I wandered across the shaded square back to the mission house. It was such a beautiful day! What was I to do? I didn’t want to waste the day, but I struck all the sudden by how quiet the big mission house is when you are all alone. And then there was a knock on the door! It was the whole Garza clan, all 8 of them, tracking me down after mass to inform me that I should spend the day with them and spend the night at their house so I wasn’t all alone. Thanks God! So little Fatima stayed with me while I called my family real fast and helped a mother and daughter who came to the door before we left for lunch with her family. The woman at the door couldn’t aford asprin or ibprofen for her teenage daughter who had a fever. This need is one of the ones I can really do something about! Over-the-counter painkillers and fever reducers are crazy expensive here in Mexico, and most people chose to go with out them, even though they can help with many ailments. I prayed with them for the healing of her daughter, and gave them some asprin and some food. Then her daughter pointed to my cross around my neck and asked if I had another one that she could have. I looked around the house and found a crucifix without a chain in a spare bedroom, but I couldn’t find anything to put it on. I thought about my necklace, which my Dad had given to me a few years earlier. I hardly ever took it off. That chain was solid! I could shower, run, clean and do just about everything in that necklace. So I slipped the chain off my neck and replaced my cross with her new (to her) crucifix and put it around her neck. She beamed back at me. My cross is currently at the bottom of my purse, but I think that for her to have a necklace is worth me not having one for the moment.

Sunday lunch with the Garza family is actually a grand affair. Grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, and even a few neighbors and the oddball missionary all show up. I played with the kids, showed the teenage girls my camera video of my Salsa class from the youth conference (they think it is hilarious to watch Chris Alexander dance), and listened to a variety of family conversations. I was very blessed when Mari’s brother and Tono’s sister both took time to come sit with me and talk to me about my medicine, American politics, where I am from, our mutual friends (the past missionaries), and to tease me when, despite their warning, I pet the dog and ended up with four splinters in my hand.

Little Lalo and his abuelito

I felt I truly made some friends that day. I was no longer a random visitor here to simply give alms out to the poor (though I was doing much of that too) but I was starting to have a place in the General Cepeda family as well. I would have never been able to branch out like that with another Spanish speaker around. It has only been with my total dependence on my own ability to communicate that I have been able to learn how to do so.

Another touching story from our door ministry is Margarite and her children, but that one must wait until I post again, either tonight or tomorrow, as Tono will be here in a moment to pick us up for a prayer group! Until next time!

Prayer with Goya and Dona Marciella

 Here is a picture of one of our home visits, Dona Marciella and her daughter Goya. We meet with them once or twice a week to pray for Marciella’s health and also for Goya’s strength, family and situation as she is her primary caretaker (and a widow with children of her own).

First Week in Mexico

Well, Joanie and I have been here in Coahuila, Mexico for a little over a week now and we have done so much that I fear I won´t have time to relate it all now. The Internet modem at our house in General Cepeda was fried in a power surge a few months back so I am at an Internet cafe here in town to type this up until we can get to Saltillo to buy a new modem. Our first night here, our missionary brothers in Saltillo met us at the airport with Toño Garza (whose family is a local missionary family) who then drove us all back to General. We stopped to get gas right outside of town where we talked to a couple of guys selling burritos with the ¨Addicts for Christ¨ program. It is a Christian program that takes drug addicts, gets them clean, and then gives them jobs selling burritos and other food items around the city for income. We bought three burritos (yummy) and then we were on our way to the Garza´s casa for dinner with his wife and kids. His home is one of the bigger ones in town, with 4 rooms in all, instead of just one or two. Their living room and kitchen pretty much always have some neighbors or friends from their prayer groups over to watch TV or help with Mari (Toño´s wife) with the cooking. Their 6 kids are in a constant state of motion: running between the two bedrooms, between the visitors, or outside with the dogs, chickens and the occasional sheep that wanders by. Dinner was fantastic and our missionary brothers helped us along with translating for us, as our Spanish is not a good as their´s. We stayed at the Garza´s until close to midnight, then we walked home through the town to the mission house.

Gema and Mirna Garza take a moment from chasing the chivitas to take a picture with me

The next day started a bit later than usual due to the late hour the evening before. After a blessed morning prayer, Chris Alexander left to catch the bus back to Saltillo and after brunch, the boys decided to show Joanie and I a local swimming spot. We went walking through town during siesta time (which I now understand the need for the rest as it is simply too hot to walk about then) and we met with several friends of the missionaries. We convinced Alma´s daughter Sarai to come with us the next day for the weekend youth conference in Saltillo, and we were re-introduced to Raul and Marta, the other local missionary family. Marta and her daughters stay with us often when the guys are in Saltillo so we always have a fluent Spanish speaker in the house. Finally we made it back to the Garza´s house where their oldest daughter, Ana, decided that she and her brother Sergio would drive us and keep us company while we swam. This wouldn´t do for Fatima and Gema who insisted that they be allowed to come watch the gringos swim too. So we drive and hike to this beautiful waterfall and pool where we jumped off rocks into the water and generally splashed ourselves silly before returning the car to Toño, who then insisted we stay for dinner. To turn down food, or even not to finish the food is tantamount to insulting a family down here. Though they know we don´t mean any harm by refusing seconds, it´s not uncommon for them to ask us things like ¨Do you hate us or something?¨ as a joke.

Friday, Saturday, and Sunday we went to a youth conference in Saltillo. Youth has a different meaning down here. In the States, ¨youth¨ means high school aged teens, but in Mexico, they use the word jovenes, which means any unmarried person under the age of 30. So we were by no means the oldest people at the conference, though we probably did stand out the most. The retreat was hosted by the Community of Saint John, or the Juanitos, who came over from France some years ago to start a convent and community in Mexico. So lot´s of odd accents between us gringos, the French, the Venezuelans and the Mexicans.

It was a rather profound weekend for myself, not so much because of a spiritual enlightenment, though I did experience some of that, but more because of my surprise at the welcoming nature of the Mexican youth. I guess I sort of expected them to treat me the way most Americans treat Mexicans. They don´t speak our language, so we pretty much ignore them. But not so. The youth wanted to know about me, my mission work, where I was from, why I was scared to practice my Spanish, if I liked Mexico, where I learned to dance, and so on and so on. It didn´t matter that I didn´t speak Spanish any better than a 2 year old. Something for me to keep in mind while I am in the States to be sure. I have several stories from that weekend, and not nearly enough time to tell them all. Ricky from my Salsa class gave me a little religious bracelet; Irene from our bunk room spoke a little English and helped us when we were confused about what time to be somewhere; Rodolfo gave all six of us plus his cousin a ride back into Saltillo all in his little Honda. How many gringos and Mexicans can you fit into one little 4 door car? 8 as it turns out. 5 gringos and three mexicans. The speed bumps were really harsh on that trip.

Ricky, John-Paul, Yameleth, Chris and I at the Juanitos youth conference

We returned to General Cepeda, and the boys returned to Saltillo, and then people began to knock on our door. This is actually normal when missionaries are in residence, but usually the missionaries speak better spanish than we do. I speak marginally better than Joanie, so I have been the mouth piece the last few days. We have tried to help around 20 or 30 people so far, giving them food, water, maybe a bit of money, buying medicines for them and most importantly praying with them. It is exhuasting. I think that it would be much easier to handle were my Spanish not so bad, but it is, and despite that (and a few calls to our spanish speaking friends for translating) we are making do.

Toño has also taken us under his wing and brought us along with him on his ministry work around town. The last two days we have gone to visit the shut ins, people so sick or incompacitated that they rarely, if ever, leave their homes. Toño tells us that many of the people they used to visit have since died. This was my first time being around someone that ill. Doña Maria doesnt have any legs and doesnt have a wheel chair, a handicap accessable house, or a way to get off the floor by herself. Her sister Gabriella is blind andToño says she is slowly suffereing from a mental illness. Another woman is on an oxygen machine, but it is so big she can´t move it, nor can she go anywhere without it. Yet another woman is over a hundred years old and simply can not hear anything. She spends her days swatting flies and watching the chickens in her yard.  The ones who are aware of our presence seem so happy we are there even though we can hardly say anything to them that makes sense. Just the fact that we are there is such a grace to them.

I have so many more stories I feel like I should share, but I fear they shall have to wait until my next venture to the internet cafe or until the modem is replaced in our house.

Until Next Time, may God´s blessings be upon you!

Peace and love,

Erin

Latest Newsletter/6month update

Here is a copy of my most recent Newsletter and SERVE article. Both detail my life for the first half of 2009: what I have been up to, my spiritual development, and my preparations for mission. I leave for General Cepeda, Mexico tomorrow, so today I am trying to rectify the fact that I have been lax this year in my updates. So here, they are. They talk about some of the same topics at times, but oh well.

SERVE article:

The Unexpected Mission

 After going through the Intake process in the fall of ’08, my head was full of grand and colorful visions of my first year in mission. I would learn Spanish, move to General Cepeda, and do God’s work helping the poor under the bright blue sky and blazing sun of Mexico. But my plans were slightly derailed in October, when I had a rather unexpected medical emergency; our Intake class of four had been plagued by a slew of twisted ankles, bug bites, allergies, and busted ear drums. However, even all these physical attacks didn’t prepare me for the shock of blacking out one morning during a class and waking up to the frantic concerns of my fellow missionaries, who then informed me that I had had a seizure.

My first thoughts were: “They must be mistaken! Couldn’t be me! I may have an unhealthy addiction to caffeine, but otherwise I am quite proud of my dedication and struggle to be healthy! I don’t have seizures!” But then a quiet little voice of reason whispered to me, “but your aunt does! Epilepsy can be genetic, but no one else in the family seems to have it… yet!” My aunt had been diagnosed with epilepsy after having a generalized seizure on my 21^st birthday a couple years before. As it turned out, she’d had the disorder for several years, unknowingly suffering through “mini-seizures” which she had previously chalked up to a lack of focus. All of the sudden, my memory flashed to my sophomore year of college where I was constantly afraid and borderline depressed because of dark thoughts and memories I couldn’t keep track of in my head. I had one set of memories that I was sure had happened and they didn’t distress me in the least, but then I also started forming a second set of memories that made no sense to me and scared me senseless and caused what I thought were panic attacks. Right before I blacked out in class, that panicky, distorted feeling had overcome me.

And right there, in the middle of a room filled with missionaries in varying levels of distress over me, I felt a total calm. Even better, I felt joy. After four years of struggling in my head, living in the world, and being completely miserable at both, I finally had an answer. I had finally given my life over to Lord, and here He rewarded me with the one thing I hadn’t known I wanted and in fact needed the most; confidence in my own brain! I knew right away I had exactly what my aunt had, and while I experienced a measure of fear, I couldn’t help but revel in God’s providence for me! Oh happy day!

I returned home to Colorado in December to both figure out this new complication in my life, and also to fundraise for my future life in General Cepeda, Mexico. I began to see a series of neurologists and perform a number of rather daunting tests involving large machines with loud noises, needles, and wires glued to my head. Again, God was looking out for me! The tests that could bring bad news came back normal. My EEG (a test that can show proof of epilepsy, but only if it catches a seizure in the act) came back with solid proof of epilepsy and the location of my seizures on the first try. The only downside to my time at home was the overwhelming drowsiness caused by my new medicine prevented me from doing anything productive for quite a long time. By the time I gained even a moderate level of energy, I was very behind in fundraising for my mission. I started to pursue fundraising avenues, but then one night, my mother received a distressing call from my uncle in Georgia.

My aunt, the one with epilepsy, had suffered three generalized seizures back to back, was unconscious and on her way to the hospital. My cousins were in a state of fear and confusion, and my uncle concerned about their family’s future. My aunt home schools my 4 cousins, ages 2 to 13, and my uncle’s job requires that he travels most of the year. The emergency personnel responding to the call informed my uncle that my aunt would no longer be able to drive, she would be in the hospital for who knows how long, she would be physically incapacitated once home, and a permanent life change would be necessary to avoid any serious health consequences. My mother wanted to get on a plane immediately, despite the late hour and the fact that she had to work the rest of the week; dad wanted to go the next day, but he had to work as well and had other obligations he couldn’t ignore. And then there was me: single, able to fundraise anywhere, familiar with the medical issues, and available to help them in their time of need. I got on a plane less than 48 hours later to go to my newest mission field: Atlanta!

While my work with my cousins is definitely not what I originally planned to be doing, God’s hand had led me there. Atlanta did not have the foreign appeal that Mexico has for me, but once I set aside my notions of what I wanted and started focusing on what God wanted, my mission field took on a new dynamic. I haven’t mastered Spanish yet, but I had the chance to teach the basics and new cultures to my cousins. I couldn’t claim to be living in poverty, but I did learn to be dependent on other’s charity and teach my family about the poverty that most the world faces. My evangelization was teaching my 8 year old cousin about North American martyrs and the Catholic faith in history. I was able to help my aunt in her health crisis and give my uncle some help and peace, and to get to know each of my cousins in a whole new way. Best of all, my relationship with God has a new facet: my God is so loving that He takes what seems to be a crisis on the surface but times it so that nothing but good comes out of it!

During all these experiences, my troubles with fundraising did not go away. While worried about the state of my finances, it was actually easier not to deal with my problems. After all, it was so easy to wear myself out helping with other peoples’ problems, which seemed so much bigger and easier to resolve. But God had my back once again! My aunt asked me to accompany her on a retreat to the headquarters for EWTN in Alabama. She needed an adult with her in case of a medical emergency, and her husband had offered to take time off work so she could go on the trip. I agreed to go with her and on the trip I ended up meeting several people who blessed me with their insights. During a few such conversations, my life as a missionary came up as a topic of discourse.  Some of those people not only felt called to be among my benefactors, but felt as though the Lord was calling them to help me with my fundraising. Not only did I get a spiritual reawakening and an educational insight into the Church and the media at EWTN, but all my biggest fundraising issues were resolved on that one trip.

My plan to be a missionary in a foreign, exotic land was just that: my plan. God’s plan was to arrange my life, my health, and my ambitions to suit His timing and will. I am so blessed that He ruined my plans! His are obviously much better!

Newsletter:

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Since I last wrote to you, God has done an amazing amount of work in my life. I feel incredibly blessed to be able to share with you the journey my life has taken over the last six months. I have learned the most incredible lesson of relying on God’s divine plan and timing in my own journey.

My most recent adventure began back in October. During my training to become a missionary I rather unexpectedly had a seizure. While this was a new and highly stressful complication to my life, the hospital assured me I wasn’t immediately dying and therefore I chose to focus on my training instead of finding out the cause of the seizure. I returned home in December to do some fundraising and found out that my mother had been busily scheduling doctor’s appointments for me in my absence. Seeing the obvious wisdom in her plan, I started seeing doctors who had scary job titles I couldn’t pronounce and also undergoing a series of tests involving loud machines, flashing lights, and lots of wires glued to my head. In the end, the tests confirmed what I had begun to suspect already: I had epilepsy. My neurologist was very optimistic about medication and within a couple days I was on a daily anti-convulsion drug. And for about a month after that, it was a real struggle to stay awake during the most normal of daily activities.

Unfortunately, one of these daily activities was the one I had come home specifically to do: fundraising! By the time my body adjusted to this new medicine, most the missionaries I knew were already in the field and I was still in the first stages of raising money. I knew I shouldn’t be upset by the time lost (I really needed that medicine after all!) but it was hard feeling so behind. And then it got harder. My avenues for fundraising simply weren’t able to produce the funds I needed to go on mission, and I had no idea how or where I could possibly meet people who might be willing to make that happen.

In the midst of this struggle and subsequent personal doubt, my family received some distressing news. My uncle called to tell us that he was on the way to the hospital because my aunt, who also has epilepsy, had just had 3 grand maul seizures in a row and was unconscious. Their four girls are home schooled and my uncle travels most of the year for his job, and there was some concern as to how their life would look in the near future. My mother instantly wanted to hop on a plane and go be with her sister, but she couldn’t take time off work with out a couple days notice at least, and the same for my father and sister. But here I was without a job, with no commitments, and with a bleak outlook for my fundraising efforts. So within 48 hours I was on a plane for Atlanta.

Atlanta became my first mission field. While I was expecting to make my debut in Mexico to people I have never met, my field was actually my own family. I taught my cousins when my aunt needed to rest; I helped clean the house when they were trying to sell it; I changed diapers, cooked meals, walked the dog, drove to and from Mass (and all around town), assisted at soccer practices, and bought groceries for the family. I wasn’t prepared for my mission to be so ‘ordinary’. I thought I was going to learn Spanish, live in Mexico, and help catechize and meet the needs of the people.  It just turns out that meeting the needs of my family in Atlanta was a different mission from the one I had been expecting.

My worries about my fundraising hadn’t disappeared while in Atlanta either. However, God’s plan and timing are so much greater than it is possible to see in the moment. Only in hindsight does the big picture make sense.

While in Atlanta, my aunt asked me to accompany her on a retreat to EWTN headquarters in Alabama, as she needed someone with her in case of a medical emergency. I jumped at the opportunity to see the Network and also the obvious spiritual benefits I could gain from the trip. What I hadn’t expected at all was to meet several people on that trip who would end up enriching my life. After only knowing them a couple days, some of them felt called to assist me in my fundraising efforts so that I would be able to go out on mission as soon as my time in Atlanta was over. I felt so blessed to have met these benefactors, and so thankful that while I was despairing of making it onto a foreign mission field, God was setting me up to do just that.

My Aunt Lisa, Fr. Corapi and myself after a filming of a show at EWTN

I returned home to Colorado once more in April to wrap up loose ends, see my family, and facilitate my return to Family Missions Company. While home, I took the opportunity to undergo some intense spiritual direction. What I experienced changed my outlook on my relationship with God and my family. I was finally able to let go of many past hurts and trials for which I had not forgiven myself or others. I had tried in the past to let these things go, but hadn’t been able to so. My priest kept emphasizing the importance of forgiving “In the name of Jesus Christ.” And amazingly it worked! The power that those words had in my soul was profound and lasting. I have always believed in the power of words. They can be used to build up or tear down. I had tried to forgive myself and others in the past, but saying, “I forgive myself” didn’t make it so.  I had forgotten the awesome power imbued in the name of God. “In the name of Jesus Christ, I forgive myself!” Christ gives me that ability to forgive, not myself. The power of speaking those words filled me with a new appreciation for God’s power and also Holy Scripture, the very words of God.

It was in the processing of this awe inspiring and new view of my spirituality that God’s divine sense of timing really hit me. My aunt’s seizures occurred the first full week my uncle was home in over 8 months. If my medical tests hadn’t come back positive on the first run through, I would have spent even more time and money on more tests. If I hadn’t been on the medication, I might not have been free to help their family. If I hadn’t gone to help, I wouldn’t have met the people who were so instrumental in meeting my fundraising goals. If that stress had not been lifted, I wouldn’t have made the time for the spiritual direction that changed the course of my life. Yet my plan was to bypass all of that! I wanted to have no side effects from the medicine, no trouble fundraising, and I would have been in the mission field early this year. But I wouldn’t have been whole. I wouldn’t have understood the value of suffering and its redemptive power.  My idea of a mission would be an idealized fairy tale. My spiritual life would still be stunted and flawed. Thank God for ruining my plans!

I have been in Louisiana for a little over a week now, readjusting to life in community with other missionaries and discerning if God still wanted me to serve Him in General Cepeda, Mexico or someplace else. If God wills it, I hope to go to Mexico for the near future, and I am preparing for that trip by studying Spanish and praying for the people of Mexico. I hope to raise enough funds that I may be able to attend language school to improve my Spanish and communicate more effectively with the Mexican people and help establish a girls’ youth ministry with our team in Saltillo, Mexico. I have also set up an email ‘update list’ to keep my benefactors up to date with my mission as I experience it and I am also continuing to fundraise.

Many of you have been so generous to me already and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your gifts. I would ask you to prayerfully consider supporting me on my mission, financially and (more importantly) through prayer. God’s word to me in prayer lately has been to practice more discipline in my life, especially with my prayer life, health, and finances. I wish to be a good steward of all the gifts God has given me, and the prayers of my benefactors are so vital to my practice of discipline.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read about my life in the last few months. You are in my prayers, and may the Lord bless you in all your endeavors!

 In Christ’s love,

 Erin Ugran

I am so bad at updates…

The Mexican flag in the plaza in front of the Presidencia in Saltillo

This entry will be mainly a transcription of emails I wrote to my family while I was in General Cepeda, Mexico detailing just a few of my experiences last fall.

Hey Family,

Just wanted to send y’all a note so you know I’m not dead or in the hospital or anything. Mexico is a lot of fun so far, we’ve visited two Ranchos last week and we are gearing up for the Medical Mission people to arrive today. We had a Life in the Spirit retreat this week which was really cool. I had a couple visions about people when we prayed over them which was cool as well.  Next week I get to run to the pharmacy in town to fill prescriptions for the doctors as they see people here, so that will be a new experience for my Spanish to tackle. Ms Genie sent me to the market the other day to fend for myself and get food for dinner. That was fun and probably hilarious for all the Mexicans around me. I really love it here, and I think I’m being called to serve down here next year. So I have been practicing my Spanish like crazy.

Mexico is really cool, the drivers are ridiculous, even by bad drivers’ standards. General Cepeda is a lot like Denver climate wise. Its super dry and a mile high as well, but its a lot more dusty, probably because there’s no suburban grass that gets watered everyday. But once you are used to being covered in dust all the time, its pretty easy to get on here. Our mission house is shaped like a giant rectangle that’s open in the middle with a bunch of bedrooms and dinning rooms and various other rooms on the outside. the people who help out in the house are really nice and as far as I can tell, they don’t make fun of me for my terrible Spanish speaking ability. Then again, they see some of us say some pretty ridiculous things. So my bad grammar must not be too laugh worthy. Well there’s other people who need the computer now, so ill write y’all so me more later.

I love you guys!

Erin

Hi Mom,

Yeah, I don’t mind if you forward it, but please let them know that the grammar sucks because the keyboard down here is very different and I cant find some punctuation marks on it. So, the other short term groups got here yesterday, and while its really amazing that 50 plus people felt Gods call, the noise and chaos have grown, forcing my struggle to remain patient to new heights. Praise Jesus. I gave my testimony today for the first time since I’ve been down here to a group at a rancho. There were more missionaries than villagers, but it was a really good experience I think. Actually I had a really amazing experience last week when we went to a rancho called Independencia. Mr Frank asked if I would give my testimony and I freaked out a bit because I hadn’t prayed about it or prepared anything. so he asked a couple other people to give theirs and while i was listening to them, I really felt God telling me to get up and talk about my seizure moments and what not and what a relief it actually was to finally know what they were. I also felt like I should talk about how worried y’all were, but how my serving the Lord is the best place I could be and medicine I could possibly take. however, after their testimonies, Mr frank started his teaching right away so i never got the chance to give my testimony. after his teaching, he invited all the villagers to come up one by one so that we could pray over them for their needs and healing. the second woman to come up to my group was a girl about my age, and wow, she was so pretty. she said her name was Suzi and she has a benign tumor. she didn’t ask for healing from the tumor, but only that she wouldn’t become more of a burden on her family. after she sat down, it hit me how sad she looked, and how the random thoughts i had had about my possible testimony were totally meant for her. so i went and talked to her with Alyse, one of the resident missionaries, who translated for me. i told her that i had seizures or epilepsy or something like that and how i knew how it was scary to have something wrong with you that you cant control, especially when your family worries about you. I told her that Gods our Father and he loves us completely and our families here on earth love us so of course they’ll worry, but we aren’t ever burdens to God. she started crying then and then i started crying and tried to speak Spanish to her myself, which wasn’t great but she got the point hehe. so i am really hoping to go back to Independencia this week to talk to her some more, or at the least try to write her a letter or something to keep in touch. Anyhoo, I love you mom!

Talk to you soon!

Erin

Mom,

The last two days have been part of the medical mission trip, and my job has been as a runner of sorts. We run out of Kleenex, I go find, and seriously, i went to three stores to find it, and buy more. If we don’t have the medicine someone needs, I go with them or run to the pharmacy and buy it for them. There are three Farmacerias in town, and I can walk to all of them, but 6 trips or more a day is tiring. Ms Genie offered to give me the van to drive to them, but between not knowing what is going on with the epilepsy and the ridiculousness of Mexican drivers, Id much rather walk. the first day i almost cried when I went to the first pharmacy and the lady that owned it started speaking so fast my head hurt. but over the last two days I think my comprehension is getting much better, and my ability to get my point across is a lot better, but still quite dismal as far as the Mexicans are concerned.

So I am getting some awesome exercise down here with all the walking and what not. We got together a small soccer game the other day, but it was just us missionaries. There is a concrete type of court we can play on, but we tend to hurt ourselves when we play too rough. Alyse twisted her ankle, Jayne got hit in the head, Jon cut open his toe, Joanie bruised her butt, and Matt and Colby kept falling. I managed to escape with only a slight ache in my hip, which could have been from the excessive walking anyways. Matt and Colby went to play today with a couple of Mexican kids who stopped by after they got out of school, and the kids kept making fun them when they played 2V2. Matt and Colby are both 16, and the boys they played were 8. I wish I could have seen it.

Street performers in the Saltillo market square

 We’ve been visiting several Ranchos and groups at night and I have given two testimonies now since I chickened out at Independencia. Ms Genie and Sarah both said that they were good testimonies, so hopefully I am reaching some people. OK well, as always, I could write more, but I am too exhausted to think straight at the moment, so Ill try to write more tomorrow. We are supposed to go to Saltillo, the Capital of Coahuila, the state we are in here in Mexico. Mexico is actually called the United States of Mexico, an interesting tidbit, I thought. Saltillo is an hour from General Cepeda and we are supposed to go to dinner and to a marketplace last I heard. Ill try to get some souvenirs, but I gave most of my pesos to a lady I helped buy medicine for. She sold me her tamales, which were yummy. I gave her more money after that to buy groceries after she told me she was stressed because her husband doesn’t have a job. Sadly a typical story and she obviously needs the money more than me. OK I really need to go to sleep now.

Love you!

Erin

Hello world!

Hello Everyone,

My name is Erin Ugran and I am a lay Catholic Missionary with Family Missions Company. I will be living in General Cepeda, Mexico and hopefully I will be there in the next couple weeks. Currently, I am in my hometown of Littleton, Colorado awaiting clearence from my neurologist to leave the US of A.