Crossing Borders

Yesterday was one of those beautiful, but rare days, that happens only every 3 or 4 years.

Four 9 years now members of my family (my wife, Mary, son, Brian, and daughter, Jessi)
have been visiting our families in Lomos de Poleo, Mexico, a colonia on the edge of Juarez.  By "our families" I mean the 7 families who have received us into their lives, and treated us as members of their families.  We have lived with them, eaten with them, worked with them, prayed with them.

I usually find one way or another to visit Lomos de Poleo every year, but it is only about every 3 or 4 years our entire family is able to go there together.  Yesterday was one of those days.  We began the day at Cristo Rey Lutheran Church in El Paso, Texas, Mission Partner of the church I serve in Arlington, Virginia: Faith Lutheran.  Here we are with Cristo Rey's Pastor Rose Mary.

We loaded Cristo Rey's van and headed across the border.  At Lomos de Poleo we were welcomed with the usual fiesta, featuring chile rellenos. 

After feasting, we talked about how life is going for everyone, with a special focus on the students who are part of the scholarship program we support for children of these families.  We heard from these students, who are part of the program, and doing very well in school.



This past year through the scholarship program we were able to support 5 students in college and 3 in high school, as well as those in junior high and elementary school.

I often get asked why, given the level of violence in Mexico, especially around the border, we keep crossing that border.  The answer is really quite simple:  these are our families and they can't cross the border to us.

This particular trip all started when my daughter visited here in May with a group that decided not to cross.  The group had met our families at the border fence, and all Jessi could do was touch our family members through the fence.  She immediately called me and asked when we could go together to Lomos de Poleo and again hug each other as family members do.  So, here we are.

It is hard to describe how difficult life in Mexico is, day after day.  By contrast, the opportunities we have as US citizens is almost incomprehensible. Indeed, the first thing one always has to do is get byond the guilt of our privilege.  Beyond the guilt comes the solidarity, love, and feeling of family.

And so, until our families can cross to visit us, we will cross to visit them.  And I will continue to relish the rare times when we can all break tortillas together, and through laughter and tears, celebrate what it means to be brothers and sisters in Christ.