Sunday, September 29, 2013


My first church experience in Mexico was beautiful. But I was broken. My heart ached from recent goodbyes and I sat in my seat ready for the floodgates to unleash at any second. 

Today, I attended Vida Abudante for the second time, and in contrast to my first Sunday, my heart was filled with such joy and felt so free to enter into worship, content before the King.
Joshua was the guest preacher and taught on Matthew 5:17-20.
There's something about seeing familiar faces that does such wonders in making you feel at home. In the past weeks, I've bumped into people I know on the street, at the university, and in the metro. And today. I was warmly received back to worship in the small Zumba/Tae Kwon Do facility that the Mexican church service is hosted in each week. 

Meet Barbie: precious young lady who blesses everyone in the church with her service to the little ones. 
Meet Helena and her granddaughter. Helena attends Bible study at our house mid-week and lives in our neighborhood.
 After church, we made the trek back to our colonia with Helena, our good friend and neighbor. She bought us lunch and I relished every bite of my first tlacoyo.

 Sunday looks and feels different than it did in the U.S. 
But I find such a depth of beauty in that from the very heart of Mexico City to Chicago, 
from remote villages to elaborate cathedrals, and in the diversity of all people groups on this earth, when we come together to worship God, we worship the same great God. 

And that's just a little taste of heaven. 

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