This weekend we are:
waiting: for Selma's front tooth to come out. This will change things forever. I'm not gonna lie; it makes me kind of sad.
finishing up: The last of the Gregor series with the kids. This has been Joshua's read-aloud with the kids. Hmmm . . . now what?
hoping: to spend some time walking through our neighborhood - stopping for a coffee at a local cafe and pausing in a park to let the kids play; maybe we'll run into someone we know or make a new friend.
remembering: last Friday when we joined some friends to set up a flash mob party for the prostitutes on one of Mexico City's prostitution hot spots. The kids and I (plus a couple of sweet neighbors, plus a few dear friends) spent our week baking and decorating cookies to hand out at the party.
"Let's put the cookies in our basket," Selma said "I think it will look nice like that."
When we arrived, we paused as we watched the party unfold: Someone was carrying a box of pink umbrellas - readying them to be passed out (everyone always needs an extra umbrella during Mexico City's rainy season). Behind me, several individuals were setting up a makeshift nail salon - prepping the water buckets, the clippers, the towels, the polish. To the left I caught sight of Malachai on someone's shoulders, tying party banners up on a nearby pole. As the musicians set up their equipment, one woman kept coming off the curb and urging them to start up the music.
Then we were drawn into a circle to pray.
We are individuals who keenly recognize that we have experienced God's love in sweet, profound ways, and so we prayed for every individual that we would come into contact that night - - that we would have opportunities to communicate to them that they too are created by God, and are therefore deeply loved, deeply valuable.
The party began. . . and we ventured out to invite our guests.
I grabbed Josu's hand, hooking the basket of cookies onto my arm.
We went from woman to woman.
We paused in front of each one of them, looked them in the eye, and told them
"We made cookies for you."
this is not the end of our journey to care for this community of hurting women in our city.
It is just the beginning
part of the bigger picture.
waiting: for Selma's front tooth to come out. This will change things forever. I'm not gonna lie; it makes me kind of sad.
finishing up: The last of the Gregor series with the kids. This has been Joshua's read-aloud with the kids. Hmmm . . . now what?
hoping: to spend some time walking through our neighborhood - stopping for a coffee at a local cafe and pausing in a park to let the kids play; maybe we'll run into someone we know or make a new friend.
remembering: last Friday when we joined some friends to set up a flash mob party for the prostitutes on one of Mexico City's prostitution hot spots. The kids and I (plus a couple of sweet neighbors, plus a few dear friends) spent our week baking and decorating cookies to hand out at the party.
"Let's put the cookies in our basket," Selma said "I think it will look nice like that."
When we arrived, we paused as we watched the party unfold: Someone was carrying a box of pink umbrellas - readying them to be passed out (everyone always needs an extra umbrella during Mexico City's rainy season). Behind me, several individuals were setting up a makeshift nail salon - prepping the water buckets, the clippers, the towels, the polish. To the left I caught sight of Malachai on someone's shoulders, tying party banners up on a nearby pole. As the musicians set up their equipment, one woman kept coming off the curb and urging them to start up the music.
Then we were drawn into a circle to pray.
We are individuals who keenly recognize that we have experienced God's love in sweet, profound ways, and so we prayed for every individual that we would come into contact that night - - that we would have opportunities to communicate to them that they too are created by God, and are therefore deeply loved, deeply valuable.
The party began. . . and we ventured out to invite our guests.
I grabbed Josu's hand, hooking the basket of cookies onto my arm.
We went from woman to woman.
We paused in front of each one of them, looked them in the eye, and told them
"We made cookies for you."
this is not the end of our journey to care for this community of hurting women in our city.
It is just the beginning
part of the bigger picture.
I wish I could have been there!
ReplyDeleteoh my goodness, Mercy - you would have LOVED it!
Deletewow. this is a beautiful story. i want to know more!
ReplyDeletethere is something particularly beautiful about love when it risks itself, don't you think?
Delete