I Once Thought Chicago Was Big...

          I sit on the bus and stare out the window.  If the traffic is light, I will only ride this bus for one hour, if it is heavy, I will ride it for three.  Every so often a vendor walks onto the bus shoving some new food into our hands in hopes that we will make the purchase.  The streets outside are filled with color: outdoor markets, graffiti on every building, street vendors, apartments, buses, homes, cars, and people, so many people as far as you can see.  And all of it blends together to create a symphony of sights, smells, and sounds called Mexico City.  I get off the bus and walk to the Metro.  The line is packed and I shove my way into an already full car.  Immediately, I am surrounded by a wall of people on all sides of me. I look at our hands, all grasping for something to keep us upright as the metro lurches to a stop.  We are all so different, yet in this moment, we are so similar and I am struck by the complexity of humanity.  For in this moment, we are all here together, and, in the next moment, we will never be again.  I hop off the Metro and head down the street.  I share the sidewalk with street vendors, people traveling in all directions, and occasional cars that decided to park on the sidewalk since there really isn't any room to park on the street.
          And somehow, amidst the difference of it all, I feel perfectly at home.  You see, I am now able to see how God has been preparing me for this moment for years now.  When I first moved to Chicago it was a difficult transition.  I was unused to life in the city: the public transportation and the lifestyle differences of living in such a huge place.  The first few years I yearned to be home amongst the mountains, I longed for the ease of taking a car and not needing to walk a mile with my groceries or wait half an hour in the snow for my bus.  And yet, as time passed, I grew to see the beauty of the different styles of life.  I learned to navigate the city and feel comfortable in the middle of a crowd.  I learned that despite the danger a big city presents it also brings with it a wondrous thing -  for it is a place full of faces that all reflect the image of God.
          My new "Chicago" is about 7 times bigger, speaks a different language, and has streets that wind around so much that they literally resemble a bowl of spaghetti.  Yet, my new "Chicago" is filled with the same stuff as the last one.  People.  People who are hurting, people who are laughing, people who are busy, people who have nothing to do, yet all these people have more in common than meets the eye: they are all people searching for a purpose; people who desperately need God.  Sure, the people here might buy milk in a box and bread that is already toasted, serve chilies with every meal, and eat four times a day instead of three, but underneath all the cultural differences they are a people who need God as much as we all do.  Would you join me in praying for these people?

This is a small, yes small, section of Mexico City :)

This is the street I live on - near where the man is walking