As I was going to sleep last night I had the TV on National Geographic channel. They were highlighting a Mexican prison...which led me to think of the Mexican prison I've been in and the incredible story of Providence that accompanied that visit...so I share it with you today.
I was 16, a Junior in high school, and was with my youth group in Mexicali, Mexico for spring break doing missions work. My youth pastor had "rented me out" for the day to another team of women from Azusa Pacific University who were going to visit the local women's prison. My task was to sing 2 songs in Spanish which I had come prepared to do w/ background tapes (Seek Ye First and Amazing Grace). I didn't know this team of women and was a bit bluesy to be separated from my team. Still, I was honored to be doing this and excited about visiting a real prison for the first time.
We arrived at the building pictured above (NOT what I had expected...) and we entered. 3rd world prisons are so NOT like American prisons...There were no jump suits, no automatic locking doors, no clean, sterile halls...There were just woman crammed into tiny cells with clothes hanging all over the place (at least that's what I recall in my mind's eye). We ended up in an outdoor courtyard and the leader of our group--some older, blond, tart who spoke fluent Spanish--gave a talk to the women. I wasn't nervous or scared and the ladies seemed happy to have some American visitors.
It came time for me to sing. I pressed PLAY on the boom box...and nothing happened. Checked the cord (plugged in), checked the tape deck (the tape was in), pressed PLAY again...and nothing happened. I remember being frustrated and embarrassed all at once, like, "What do I do now!?" Blond Tart came over and told me to sing anyway...like, TOLD ME to sing, like, RIGHT NOW. This got me upset and even more flustered and I started to cry in front of everyone. Why was this lady being so mean? How on earth could I sing without music? Why was this whole thing being ruined!? So I started to cry harder and have myself a big 'ol boo hoo fest.
The women began to murmur...Blond Tart kept telling me to sing but I was sobbing...Suddenly, this angel of a prisoner came up to us with a boom box she'd had in her cell, plugged it in, and the music began. I thanked her with a million "Gracias"es and told Blond Tart to please give me a minute to pull myself together...she looked at me and said, "The time is now, Dear". >:( Anyway...I sang both my songs and the woman cried throughout. It was a beautiful thing...Afterwards, I avoided Blond Tart and helped give out underwear and hygiene items to the ladies. They were so thankful and kept telling me what a beautiful job I had done singing.
When we left, I was so homesick to be with my team, especially after my interactions with Blond Tart. Thankfully the group split up and we went to find a bath house (we'd have to shower mid-day while in town=no running water at our camp site). Usually my team would use a bath house in the center of town ($1.50 for a small bar of soap, a wash cloth sized towel, and a small, closet-like cubicle to shower) but for some reason the ladies I was with went to some bano on the edge of the city where I'd never been.
It was later in the day and I figured that my team must be back at the camp site already. I just wanted to be with them, familiar faces, tell about my day, and the Providential moment God provided a boom box in such an unlikely place.
I showered and then sat on the floor of the hallway to wait for the other ladies. Suddenly I heard, "Hey, Jen!" and standing there like an angelic proclamation was one of our team chaperons! Turns out a few members of our team were also in the same bano and were getting ready to head back to the camp site--they had gotten side tracked and ended up there. RANDOM? NO! Providence! I started to cry all over again, I was so joyed to see her. I told the Azusa ladies that we'd part ways there and I'd go back with my team, which was fine with them. I have a picture somewhere of me sitting on the floors with the chaperon--I wanted to capture that moment, how I felt, how "God" it all was.
I share this story because, in all recollection, that day was the first day I can ever remember seeing the hand of God work so clearly. And I remember it making such an impact on me. Moments of our life are NOT random...they are ordered, they are orchestrated...and whether their results are good (meeting up w/ my team in some random bath house) or bad (there was no reason why MY boom box shouldn't have worked because I checked it when we got there and it HAD worked) the overall intent is for good and growth (if my boom box hadn't failed, the prisoner wouldn't have had the opportunity to share hers) What an amazing thing to happen on a hot day in Mexico...
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