Jar of Hearts

His skin, unnaturally white, is forever wet. He will never grow up. He will never grow old. He never even took a breath. He never had a chance. Forever stunted, forever trapped. Frozen in time. Jarred. Pickled. No, he's not the fetal pig you see in high school anatomy classes, but a baby.

Some may be upset with my use of the term "baby" since technically what I saw jarred were human fetuses in the embrology lab at the medical campus of the University of Veracruz in Poza Rica. However, though many will call me illogical or perhaps over emotional, what I saw were babies. Trapped in time, forever frozen, for the benefit of someone else.

I feel sick to my stomach. My heart aches. I'm fighting so hard to hold back the tears. Call me illogical. Call me dramatic. But I saw a baby. I saw children brought into this world, trapped without a chance. I saw people cast off and ignored. I saw my own fears of infertility when my future husband and I try to start a family.

I came to Mexico with this internship to teach English. But we were mislead. I feel lied to. I have not taught a single lesson since being here. At first it felt like a traditional study abroad trip, but now we are shuffled place to place for photo opportunities for others, and in between stuck in a house with open windows and men standing in the street huddled, watching as we come and go. People back home say they are proud of me. People here in Mexico say we are an inspiration. I feel like a sham. I wanted this to be my summer of service to others - how can I serve, how can I be this "inspiration" by simply being? By smiling for photos? For walking around a medical school campus? But never walking alone - everyone says it's too dangerous to walk in the city. We are told it's too dangerous to even take a taxi. Yet, we are told to take the taxi. We were informed of no safety concerns back home - we were assured this city was safe.

I have tried to stay positive but I've ran out of steam. I'm disappointed in the way this is playing out. I'm disappointed in myself. The people we are staying with are so nice...but the neighborhood, the city isn't safe. Coming to Mexico was a dream of mine...now at this moment I don't know what to think. All I see when I close my eyes are the babies in the jars and my heart is breaking. For the babies. For the children left alone in this world. For not being able to do anything. For feeling trapped myself...and I feel guilty for feeling trapped.

I pray for an open heart for what lesson I am meant to learn from all of this. And I selfishly pray for safety.

Families, Mangoes, and Time, Oh my!

When you travel, your heart will never be the same because you leave parts of it with the people who cross your path. This evening, I spent time with 3 generations of strong, wonderful women of Veracruz. When together, I was not treated as a stranger, but rather I was embraced and felt like I was visiting family. We talked and we laughed. And during our conversation we would hear 'crash!" Only for someone to say "mango!" as mangoes fell from the tree outside, and we would laugh more. Mrs. Conchita gifted me with beautiful handmade items for the kitchen - the embroidered sunflowers was a wedding gift for me, she said, since I am getting married in September.

One of the biggest lessons I have learned in my first week in Mexico is the value of time. Here in Mexico, people take time to visit with family. They take time to sit down and enjoy food and conversation with friends and family during meals. They take time to enjoy life with those they love.

Start taking time. Stop putting off seeing family because you don't have enough time - make time for what matters. Your loved ones matter. Take time to hold your mother's hand on the couch. Take time to talk with your grandmother. Take time to know your siblings. God gave you your family and He sent you your friends - take time to enjoy your blessings.

I am blessed with my family back home and I am blessed with my new family here in Mexico; and I thank God for both.

Day 3/4, What God Wants Me to See

During my spare time I am trying to squeeze in some recreational reading. Last night I was reading I Am Malala: How One Girl Stood Up for Education and Changed the World.

In chapter 2, Malala describes an encounter with impoverished children who, instead of attending school, sort trash to help support their families. After this encounter she asks God "Did you know there are children who are forced to work in the rubbish heap?" She then realizes that of course He knew; it was His plan for her to see the children so she could see that in order to change the world, she would have to do something. She prays for "the strength and courage to make the world a better place." I believe we all can learn from Malala's epiphany.

On this trip I am keeping open eyes and an open heart to what God wants me to see. While walking to the bus station this morning, a billboard caught my eye. It read: "Jesucristo es el senõr universal; centro de ayuda universal." Though the billboard is an advertisement for a religious help center, Jesus Christ is indeed the Lord of all and the help we all need.

I believe that God showed me the sign to tell me that He is with us wherever we go, and He will continue to lead my heart where I need to be and where I can offer service to others through Him.

Being at the Universidad Veracruzana yesterday evening and interacting with the students, practicing language skills, my heart was full. There is no doubt that God made me a teacher. I am so glad that God placed a passion for traveling, learning, and teaching in my heart, and so blessed that He placed this opportunity in my path.

"We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift if prophesying, then prophesy in accordance to your faith; if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach." - Romans 12:6-7

I will never be as brave as Malala, nor make as big of an impact as she, but I still pray for the strength and courage to make the world a better place.

Day 2, Mexíca: Sol y vida

As she walked she felt the cool grass beneath her feet. In her heart, she was thankful Tlaloc sent rain so their maize would grow. But she also was worried. The cycle was almost over. What good is Tlaloc's water without the sun allowing the Earth to grow? What if this time, the sun stopped shining? What if she wasn't enough?

To the Mexíca, the Aztecs, the sun was held in high religious regard as it helped to create and sustain plants, animals, and people. The esteem placed upon the sun is evident in rituals and religous history. According to Aztec legend, there were 5 suns in the creation of the world and humankind - under each of the first four suns, humans were destroyed. Under the 5th sun, charged by Quetzalcoatl, the plumed serpent, humankind was recreated once again, but not destroyed.

She felt the blood pumping through her veins as she awaited her fate at the altar. Would her blood, her life source, keep the gods pleased? Would her blood be enough to keep the sun in the sky?

Once misidentfied as the Aztec calendar, the Stone of the Sun (pictured here), was a sacrificial altar on which human sacrifice took place. Human sacrifice was common in Aztec and other indigenous societies in pre-hispanic America for religious rituals. Blood was a symbol of life and human sacrifice was a way to keep the sun, the source of life, alive.

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Just as blood was a symbol of life for Aztec society, the blood of Jesus Christ is the life source of the world: He, as the ultimate sacrifice, has erased the fear of the sun dying as there is eternal life through Him.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." - John 3:16-17, NIV

Day 2, Museo Nacional de la Revelucíon

¿Cambío al pais la Revolución mexicana? Did the Revolution change Mexico? The Mexico Revolution, indeed, brought political and social change to the country. The history of the Mexican Revolution fills an entire museum, Museo Nacional de la Revolución en Ciudad Mexíco, and numerous college courses can be taught on the people and politics involved. If only approaching the topic from a small lens, such feats as fighting for equality and the role of such marginalized groups as women in securing change should be addressed; these elements further illustrate the passion of Mexico rooted within its history.

Many sources available online will state that the Mexican Revolution did not begin until Profirio Díaz' call to arms on November 20, 1910; however, the Mexican Revolution is rooted in the preceeding century. In 1810, insurgency against Spain erupted, with priest Miguel Hidalgo leading creoles (those born in Mexico) to rise up against the peninsulares (those born in Spain who moved to Mexico) after resentment to class differences built up until the dam of social acceptance busted. Class tensions, political disagreements, and political instability are all woven throughout the 19th and 20th centuries in Mexico.

Though conflicting political agendas and ideologies stirred conflict, the people of Mexico, the rural farmers, the workers, the women, are what fueled the Mexican Revolution. According to Elena Poniatowska, author of Soldaderas: Women of the Mexican Revolution, "Without the soldaderas, there is no Mexican Revolution - they kept it alive and fertile, like the earth." Elizabeth Salas, author of Soldaderas in the Mexican Military, would agree. Salas explores the roots of the Mexican Revolution soldadera to the Mexíca in which women would fight in battle. Both authors argue that women did not simply follow men during the Mexican Revolution to care for them (which did happen), but also would take up arms themselves. For greater information on the women soldiers in the history of Mexico, please see Poniatowska and/or Salas. (Salas is a great read!)

So much else can be said about the Mexican Revolution, but to sum up, it did bring change. Yet, one thing has remained the same among the people of Mexico: passion.

Additional links to consult on the Mexican Revolution:

era.anthropolgy.ac.uk/Era/Peasants/mexican-revolution.html

http://www.mrm.mx

Attached photo, taken May 23, 2017 at the Museo Nacional de la Revolución, illustrates soldaderas.

Day 1, Exploring Mexico City

Mexico City is love.

Every street carries families hand in hand and couples arm in arm. All ages, young and old, hold on to their loved ones as they move around the city.

Several couples step to the side, hoping to forget about the world. Hoping to hide from the realities of the world in their own realm looking into each others' eyes. But not you two. No, you two, in the middle of the busy reality of the world, stood in the middle of Centro Histórico. And as you kissed, you dared the world to just try and dim the fire of your passion. But the world cannot black out a light so pure.

Love is a beacon for hope; love is passion; love is and makes art; love is and makes change. Love is in this city. Love is this city.