rMag

A Beautiful Reality

Joanne Lu

“Hi, I’m Joanne, but everyone calls me JoJo . . . .” Thus began yet another recitation of my short testimony in Spanish. Whether at a high school, in front of city officials, or with a group of local pastors, my testimony was the same: God gave me a vision. I don’t necessarily understand it. Maybe I never will. But I know that if He gave it to me, He will fulfill it in His time.

“I am from New Jersey, which is south of New York. Since I was seven years old, I have wanted to serve God and help people in other countries. However, I didn’t begin to understand what this meant until I was thirteen or fourteen. Slowly, God began to put certain people and specific regions in my heart. So about three or four years ago, God put in my heart a burden for Latin America and her people. But I had never been in a Latin country . . . until now. It has been one of my dreams for a long time to come to Mexico, and to be here fills me with excitement. I love it! However, before I knew about this trip, I often wondered, “Why? Why Latin America? I don’t have family in Latin America. I don’t speak Spanish very well. I don’t know much about the culture.” But this is the vision that God has given me, and I believe that because I had to wait for so long, the joy of being here is even greater. The Scriptures tell the story of Joseph, who had two dreams as a boy, but didn’t see them fulfilled until he was an adult. So, if God has given you a vision, be patient and don’t lose faith, because if it is of God, He will make it a reality in His time.”

During April 4-18, my senior class took a missions trip to Mexico, where we fit as much as we could into two weeks of intense ministry. We spent the first week in the Guadalajara area, doing community service projects (such as reforestation and trash cleanup), school presentations, and street evangelism in the small pueblos surrounding Lake Chapala. After that, we undertook a sixteen-hour bus ride up to Chihuahua, where we conducted a children’s seminar, visited a prison, and shared with a local church. Six more hours on a bus brought us to a YWAM base in Creel, adjacent to the magnificent Copper Canyon, home of the Tarahumara Indians. There we had the wonderful opportunity of conducting some more street evangelism and digging trenches for the base, while getting in all of our souvenir shopping.

However, just describing those two weeks as a series of activities understates the life-changing impact they had. For one thing, a calendar of events overlooks all the individual personalities, special smiles, and endearing stories that are the heart of ministry. After all, as our host said, “What is missions about? Of course it’s about God, but it’s also about people, people, people!”

I think of Chavo (pronounced Shavo), who was the leader of the team of youth who worked with us on community service projects. He looked and acted older than the rest of his group, but he wasn’t pretentious at all. A friendly and outgoing guy with a huge grin, he laughed so hard when he first learned that a pala in English was a “shovel.” “Shovo?” he said with amusement as he pointed to himself.

I think also of Angeles, a fifteen-year-old tomboy who had a raucous laugh, hazel eyes, and an affinity for the brand Adidas. She first noticed my Adidas baseball cap and wanted it. Apparently, someone had stolen her Adidas hat while she was playing soccer so she wanted mine “to remember me by.” However, it was the first day after we had arrived in Mexico, and I knew I was going to need the hat for upcoming service projects. I desperately wanted to give her something, though, so I pulled out a set of ropes that I use as an evangelism tool. It was the only thing I had that I could give away, but God had His purposes, because instead of walking away with just a baseball cap or a “magic” set of ropes, Angeles walked away that day having heard the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

That is just a taste of the “people, people, people!” of Mexico, but what about God? Time and time again on the trip, the grace of God drove me to my knees in awe and worship of Him. Our team was often so far from perfect that I wondered how God could possibly use us, yet in His grace He still chose to. Why, I do not know, except that through His grace He was glorified by the Mexican people and by us, gringo (“white man”) missionaries.

Over the course of the two-week trip, I gave my testimony and presented my gospel rope trick seven times, but the first time always stands out in my mind as a powerful example of the grace of God, and even the grace of the people. Tuesday morning, two vans and a truck headed out to a local high school in the small town of Tizapan el Alto for a two-hour presentation. For years I have said that children are my people group. Adults and seniors are fine, but the one age group of which I’m terrified is youth, especially Latin youth because they are such a close-knit and boisterous group. So here we were, a group of inexperienced gringos in matching green and khaki uniforms, walking headlong into a high school. Not only were we going to do a presentation to these youth, but I was scheduled to give my testimony and perform the rope trick in Spanish for the first time. I was terrified — nervous about sharing in Spanish and mortified at the prospect that that these students might make me the laughingstock of the year.

I knew my teammates were praying for me the whole time. I knew unnamed saints were probably praying for me in the States too, because when I finished my segment, I felt like I had taken the step that left me on the other side of the lamppost, like Lucy in the Chronicles of Narnia, who had before her a vast new world of discovery. However, it was the reaction after our presentation that left me watching the hand of God smash through a concrete wall in my life. When the formal presentation ended, a flood — literally, a flood — of students surrounded me in an instant, saying, “JoJo! JoJo! We want to meet you!” A few of those students took me across the street to buy me a soda, and the others were genuinely intent on becoming my friend. Did I feel like I was queen of the world? Hardly. Instead, I felt like the most unworthy witness of the events of grace unfolding before my eyes.

I saw God at work in Mexico. In that beautiful land, I saw a beautiful people of a beautiful culture touched by the beautiful hand of God, and it moved me. One afternoon, atop a boulder overlooking the city of Creel, I wept for Mexico and the work yet left undone. These were people whose hearts were open to God and others — they just needed the truth, and I wanted to give it until every ear heard and every tongue professed it.

Mexico stole my heart. I didn’t want to say goodbye. And honestly, I still don’t understand why, except that God gave me a burden for her people and a vision to live and work among them, sharing with them the truth of the Scriptures. God was good enough to allow me a first taste of my vision as reality. In His time, I pray He’ll show me the rest.