It’s been a week since Mexico.
With reentry, I feel all the feels. Enthusiasm. Excitement. Anticipation. Hope. Sadness. Loss. Distractedness. Anger. Despair.
I struggle to even write that last word. As an enneagram 7, a lot of my deep inward motivation in life is to avoid pain. I avoid people who are in pain. I avoid situations that might be painful. And if something in my life causes me pain, I push it aside and move on.
And even with that realization, I’ve moved on. I stopped looking at pictures. I’ve stopped talking about it. I’m onto the next thing. I am a busy bee planning outings with friends, keeping my kiddos busy with summer projects, unpacking the Shackelodge, prepping for projects, and planning a big birthday bash for Eli. All business that a school teacher does in the summer.
But in the back of my mind, I keep going back to words that one of my mentors, Paul said. Things like, “When I am weak, then I am strong” and my friend Jesus, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” In the end, I know he is right and I have chosen to live how he asks. So I am inviting you, my friends, to help me step into my pain for a few minutes and sit with my negative emotions and put words to them.
Let’s begin with the good stuff.
Enthusiasm. Excitement. Anticipation. Hope.
I love having a clearly defined purpose. I love to travel. I love to accomplish something. I love to help people better their lives. I love culture. I love meeting new people. I love churros. In a nutshell, this is what motivates me to go to Mexico every year.
As a child, I spent a week of every summer of my Jr. High and High School years at camp. The intense focus and conversations that happened there while experiencing exciting activities and outings filled my happy heart. Mexico is like that for me as an adult. I anticipate that intensity that only a trip to the beach can rival.
“A vacation with a purpose.” That is often how I describe Mexico to people. My vacay results in a life-changing situation for one Mexican family. This year, I was able to connect on a deeper level and share hope for the future with my home-owner, Hugo.
Sadness.
Hugo had been deported 4 years ago after living illegally in California since he was a 7th grader. His wife, and now children, are Americans. Nora, and her 4 beautiful girls, uses passports to travel across the border each weekend when school is out to see her husband. She leaves each Sunday night to go back home. She visits Hugo’s parents and siblings in California, so their children will know his family, even though he will not be able to see them for at least 6 more years, as they are illegal also and he is not allowed back in the US. Hugo has been bouncing from place to place for the past 4 years. He earns $66 dollars a week interpreting Spanish/English for the school district there. With his limited income, he has been unable to purchase a home. He would also like to save money to complete paperwork for his family to have dual citizenship.
Loss.
“Fun One, Woo!” (my team) built a beautiful new home for Hugo. But as we handed the keys over to him, I know that I will never know the end to the his story. To beautiful little Ella’s story. I will never know if he gets to feel the embrace of his mother again. That I’ll never get to chat about where his girls will go to school once they gain dual citizenship while he carefully turns the carne asada on the grill for us, a demonstration of his thankfulness to our team.
I also sit in the loss of this team. A group of unlikelys that I worked side-by-side and figured out to to help make man’s life a little bit better. I’m a chaotic thinker. But this team helped me focus and be part of a group that made the world a better place. I may see some of them again. But never in the same capacity. Never in the same situation.
Distracted.
There are so many things. I want to do all the things. I HATE when anyone (particularly someone in my family) says, “I’m bored.” But on the flip, I spread myself like a friend on whole30 spreads butter…thin to the point of invisibility. I can’t seem to finish or accomplish anything. I have a half-finshed gardening project. My chickens ran away on the 4th because I only put chicken wire around part of their cage. Heaps of boxes half-emptied. Texts written but never sent. Books with one chapter read. And one million tabs open on my computer. When people stop by and see my mess, I blame it on the move. But I believe it truly comes from the lack of processing that I have allowed myself to do.
Anger.
Injustices. To Hugo’s family. To my family. To choices I’ve made. To choices I haven’t made. To choices I need to make. For my kids. At my kids. To people with power. For people without power. At my inability. At my lack of motivation. To my lack of compassion. To my indifference. At my lack of time. To the things that steal time. For little girls that only see their daddies on weekends. For people born into poverty. For people who love each other but are citizens of different countries. I just can’t stay here in this emotion for too long. More acurately…I don’t want to stay here in this emotion for too long.
Despair.
Someone used the phrase, “Drop in the ocean,” when referring to the work that we were doing in Mexico. This is where my despair enters. Perhaps my deepest motivation is to make a difference in this life. That the world will be a better place for having a Lindsay Shackelford in it. And I don’t feel satisfied with making a tiny drop in the ocean. I want to make a tidal wave. I love the ocean. Kids, pee all you want in the ocean. All kids, everwhere, pee in the ocean, because it’s so big it doesn’t make a difference. That’s why.
I guess that is a bit what life is. A series of events that our spirit connects with in different ways. An ebb and flow of good and bad and the things that make us human. Choosing to move forward and be a better person for it. Choosing to make a difference. Choosing to imitate the person of Jesus by sharing love. Choosing a big picture for the sake of hope. Thanks for sitting with me in those thoughts for a moment.
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