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Ensenada #2: We’re all the same

The day after we returned home from Ensenada we were talking about our experiences over dinner. Four out of the six of us at the table have been to Ensenada and “knew”. We were trying to describe the way many families have to live. My son’s friend said “Oh, I know about poverty. I’ve seen documentaries and photos . . . ” and the four of us who have taken this journey all shook our heads and said “Uh, no. You don’t know until you see it with your own eyes.” And it is true. I can try to show you, try to explain, but it looks different in photos. It looks better. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing . . .

Lupita. I will tell you her story later.

As I made connections with the people in Ensenada, met moms struggling to feed their children, kids who have never attended school, families that don’t know where their next meal might come from, the only thing I saw was love. Love for one another, love for life, love for their babies they so desperately want better for. I saw beauty and joy and hope and longing, just like I do with my clients in some of the finest neighborhoods in the world. When I got in close and took photos of the kids’ sweet faces they looked, to me, just like the children of wealthy families I photograph in the States; laughing, crying, shy, silly, naughty, funny . . . they are, simply, kids.

These families are no different than our own. They want their kids to do well in life, they want to give them the best start they can. They want to show love and discipline to their children. They want peace and quiet sometimes (not easy when you live with ten kids in 300 square feet!) and to just go to the bathroom without tag-alongs. They hope to give their children an education, although it is not always possible, and they want to see them thrive. Parents everywhere seek the same things . . . but the playing field is not always level. Life is not as easy for some as it is for others . . . but the struggle is universal. The hope is what keeps parents everywhere putting one foot in front of the other every single day. Right?

The view from our family’s backyard.

About the build.

Although we are only building the home for our chosen family over one and a half days a lot had to happen beforehand. Over the weeks prior to the trip our team worked to gather the funds needed for materials as well as set aside money for new furnisings and supplies to get this young family off to a good start. In the days leading up to a house-build the local YWAM staff trekked out to the family’s plot and poured the concrete foundation; a foundation that is essential because getting children up off of dirt floors greatly improves their health and academic successes going forward. The building materials were delivered a few days before we arrived. Esteban, the father of this little family, slept on these material during the night to prevent theft and make sure everything was ready to go when our team arrived. They are invested in this process and they could not wait!

Lisbet, Esteban and Johatan’s existing home, built by members of their family. The young family purchased this land to start their lives together and establish a home. They have electricity but no plumbing or running water. The floor is dirt, but they have done a beautiful job making it into a home for their little boy with found materials.
Lisbet’s sister and niece. Many family members were on hand to help the team and the family get their home built. You can see in this photo how nicely Lisbet has decorated the walls inside their home. She is a wonderful home-maker.
Cousins and brothers and moms and sisters all showed up to help.
Johnatan and his mom in their original home. I estimate it was about 150-200 square feet.
Praying for a successful build. The family is in plaid and red. They are young and so full of energy and excitement. It was fun to watch them as their home took shape.
How many hands does it take to build and paint a truss? Many!
Beautiful Isabelle always has a smile.
Young, old, local grandmas, pastors and church members . . . and a handful of volunteers from the midwest all came together to make this happen.
Dogs and chickens were EVERYWHERE. This rooster was tied up with a string and a rock and he was NOT happy about it. He and several other captive roosters provided the background music for the day.
A salesman and a pastor playing with electricity. !Es no problema!
This mama sure loves her boy.
Johnatan thought he’d won the fun-lottery when we was allowed to play in the paint!
The neighborhood was largely undeveleoped. Rows of white-painted rocks deliniated future plots. The roads were made by simply driving on the land until the vegetation died. There is power but no sewer or water. Shocks and struts don’t last long down here!

Read the next chapter- Ensenada: Sometimes you are sent.

Ensenada #1: The Journey Begins

For the last seventeen years my dad has been traveling to Ensenada, Mexico, just a couple hours south of Tijuana, with teams from of his church and a scattering of his own kids and grandkids to build homes for families there. My oldest son, Tyler, went with my husband when he turned thirteen and Isaiah went last year on his own. My brothers, my neice, my nephew and my brother-in-law have all gone . . . I was practially the last to join the party!

Always eager for adventure my youngest daughter was beyond ready to take her turn at Grandpa’s side. We decided to make the trip together. It was one of the most memerable trips of my life. It was life-changing for my kiddo, it was an honor for me to bear witness with my camera to the beauty, the heartache, the resiliance and the tenacity of the amazing people of Ensenada and it was special to do it together. I will share our whole journey in this blog, but I will break it up into several posts. There is simply too much to tell all at once and I don’t want to miss anything!

The beauty of the world never ceases to amaze me.
I love thirteen. One minute a sassy teenager, the next snuggling with a beloved stuffed animal that came along on this trip. She is the perfect age for her first mission trip.
Crossing the border at Tijuana. It is like driving from one planet to another. Moving from the oplulance of California to the struggle that is Tijuana was jarring.
The beautiful sunset just outside the YWAM basecamp. If you look closely you can see the ocean and a mountain in the distance.
We didn’t even know that there would be other kids on the trip, but within hours these four ladies were laughing like old friends. They would make the trip all the better.
The road outside our basecamp. This photo doesn’t capture it but I have never been anywhere this dusty in my life! Dust in your bed, dust in your hair, dust in your shoes, dust dust everywhere!
The YWAM base is friendly place to rest in the middle of what is truly a foreign place. I have been to Mexico many times in my life but Ensenada is not a tourist destination with Mojitos and guacamole on the beach. It is the real-deal.

Read the next chapter. Ensenada: We are all the same.

Two Dyslexics Walk Into a Bookstore

Hicklebees…best little bookstore in the world.

I have such fond memories of bringing my kids here when they were small. We’d walk down here from our house around the corner in the warm California sunshine, pushing my toddler and baby in the stroller in so Tyler (my first avid reader) could browse the shelves. We were pretty broke at the time, so young with three littles already, so we rarely got to buy anything, but the ladies in here were always welcoming and so helpful none the less. They earned my forever loyalty.

Such a lovely Willow Glen institution. We are happy it’s still here so we can come and read a few good ones and buy a few favorites. Lydia and I are huge fans of a good old fashioned independent bookstore. ♥️ www.hicklebees.com

Thirteen is my Favorite

Okay, okay, maybe not my most favorite but it’s an age that is just so fascinating to watch unfold. It’s a straddling of childhood and adulthood; one moment playing with old toys and the next trying out makeup and talking to boys. This is my fourth time through this stage with one of my own and each was unique. While I truly miss the days of snuggles and giggles and unabashed mommy-adoration I also enjoy watching the emergence of this new, independent, strong and unique human, separate from myself yet forever a part of me.

We are off to California; our first stop. We will see where she was born, where we brought her home to her siblings, she took her first steps and learned to sing with her whole heart. We will soak up some sunshine and relaxation before we head to Mexico to do just a tiny little bit to help people who could use a little hand up like her brothers have both done before her.

I love thirteen.

Climber Girl

This girl. She was born to climb.

When she was just six months old she would hold so tight to us that we could let go and she’d stay firmly attached like a baby koala. She was just four or five the first time she called down to me from the top of our three story tall blue spruce.m; I nearly had a heart attack, she giggled with delight.

It’s so much fun to watch someone do something they’re meant to do. There’s really no joy like the joy of true love. I am glad she has found her place on the side of a wall and someday, likely, the side of a mountain. Her joy is my joy.

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