For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in… Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me. –Matthew 25:35,40
Randy and I made a trip to Mexico in early August to finalize plans for our move. Some friends of ours offered to let us stay in their condo, about fifteen minutes outside of San Felipe. When we move in November we’ll be living at the children’s home, but for this trip we thought it would be nice to have a place to retreat to, as we anticipated having lots of emotions and new information to process.
The condo is right on the beach, new and beautiful and everything you would expect from a resort. I loved being able to roll out of bed in the morning, pull on a sundress, and head out to watch the sunrise in the already 90-degree heat.
But after our morning walk on the second day of our week-long trip, we came in to discover we had no running water. Sweaty and sandy with a long day of business ahead of us, we had no choice but to head to the children’s home “as is.”
When we returned to the condo 10 hours later, the water was running again. Thinking that it must have been a one-time thing, we assumed we wouldn’t have any more trouble the rest of the week.
Wrong.
Each day, precisely during the time that we planned on showering and getting ready, there was no running water in the condo. And each morning, arriving at the children’s home already sweaty with hats and bandanas on, we were invited to use their facilities, to shower, brush our teeth, or simply sit in the air-conditioning for a while.
The irony didn’t escape me. We seemingly had everything, abundantly more than we needed, at the condo. Three bedrooms, four bathrooms, cable TV, and a balcony overlooking the beach. And yet we needed the aid of a children’s home to meet our basic needs.
While these kids may not have the luxuries that many in the States do, while some were abandoned long ago and others wait anxiously each week to see if their parents will show up for their supervised visitations, they have something many of us lack. They know the essence of the Gospel. They know to show love and hospitality. They may not have a four-bedroom condo to offer, but they will offer what they do have, even if it’s as simple as a drink of water.
Part of our move to Mexico, I believe, is God calling me to learn to do the same.
With the help and companionship of her husband Randy, dog Jovi, the kids at Sonshine Hacienda, and Jesus, Katie Ubry-Terrell is learning more and more every day what it means to live her faith.
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