Mexico Jeans

Thoughts from a team member...

Earlier today, when I was getting ready to go horseback riding, I picked up my jeans to put them on. These jeans (because I don't have a washing machine and because I'm really financially frugal) haven't been washed since they crossed the border and built a house a couple weeks ago. As I was putting them on, a lingering little Mexican dust cloud came up out of them. At that point I realized that everything about these jeans was still exactly as they had been in Mexico; well, mostly everything. My pocket knife was still clipped on, they still had spare nails and screws in the pocket, there was black roofing tar on the leg. But after I got them on and looked in the mirror, I realized that everything about where they are at now (as well as myself) is different. For starters, I was freshly showered. I was in my carpeted room, with my bed behind me, my computer sitting on it, my stuff all over the place. I proceeded to put on my other clothes from Mexico until I was clothed in exactly the same way I had been in Mexico. It's funny, I sometimes referred to these clothes as dairy clothes, work clothes, or riding clothes, but now they're Mexico clothes. These dusty Mexico jeans sent me into a huge time of thought and realization the rest of my day. 

As I was driving out to where I keep my horse, I began to notice how vastly different everything was from the scenes of Mexico. I saw rolling green hills, and trees, big fancy houses, and nicely paved roads. It's funny how being gone for a week can make me look at my surroundings so differently than I did before; surroundings that I've been seeing almost daily for the past two years. I've been having similar thoughts since I got back from Mexico, but today it really hit me that I have got absolutely no reason to complain about anything. Ever.

Here's a picture of those same jeans in Mexico. There, I'd wake up every morning on the hard floor of the sanctuary at the church where we stayed. I'd get dressed, eat a bowl of cereal, brush my teeth in the small bathroom, and go to bed without a shower. We were actually living in comfort, compared to the average Mexican family. We had an abundance of food to eat, a vast supply of clean water, a large gated area to leisurely hang out, eat, and worship, a flushing toilet, and a fairly decent kitchen with a refrigerator  stove, and sink. But during the day we'd be working on a house, where they didn't have all of these commodities. There I met one of the most amazing people ever.

Juan Jose, the father of the family receiving the home we were building, is truly an inspiring person. He'd stay up working at night, then get up and work on the house with us every day. The day we poured the cement slab, he kept working on it even after we left. He was just as much a part of the building process as any of us were. He knew so much more about building houses than any of us on my team did, but he never got frustrated with our ignorance and he was very willing to teach us better ways of doing things. In addition to all the work he put into the house, he spent all of his money to feed us a delicious lunch on Tuesday. He never complained or asked for anything in return. It's almost ironic to think about our situation. We went to Acuna, Mexico to show God's love, by way of building a home and giving to a family in need. On the flip side, that family showed us God's love by being open and welcoming from the start, helping us build their home, and feeding us great food when they didn't have to. After three days of working alongside our family, this empty lot became their home.

  Thanks, Casas, for making this happen.

Aimee Sonnier

(Aimee is currently spending her summer serving with Casas por Cristo and building homes for families every week!)