A mom's point of view: Visit to rural Mexicon home spurs life lesson for suburban family
My husband, Bernie, and I hadn't seen Tim and Roberta for 14 years. As we drove along the dusty, narrow roads looking for their driveway, the rain picked up, turning the dirt to mud puddles.
We were 12 in all, including our kids, the cousins and my in-laws, and none of us could remember exactly where to turn. We stopped a couple of times and asked pedestrians, “Donde está la casa de Tim?” then followed their directions until we reached the steep decline leading down to their house.
I had initiated this visit with our friends while visiting Bernie's family in Mexico in July. Tim and Roberta Rovenstine are American missionaries and have been living in Valle de Bravo, about an hour and a half drive from my in-laws, for more than 25 years. I wanted to see them. I wanted them to meet our daughters, and even more, I wanted our daughters to meet them.
As we parked, I could see the beautifully set tables through the window. They were expecting us. We were greeted warmly, and after introductions, we presented them with our hostess gift. We brought them what every American living in rural Mexico dreams of: Krispy Kreme Donuts. Our dinner, prepared by Roberta and her chef friend, was delicious: spring mix salad with mandarin oranges and pecans, chicken fajitas with rice, and mango mousse with fresh whipped cream. Roberta sent her helper-girl to a nearby store twice to buy more Coke. When I told her we were fine, that the kids could drink lemonade, she insisted, “Quiero que estén a gusto” which means “I want them to feel comfortable.”
As we lingered over our after-dinner coffee (one of my favorite Mexican customs), I looked around their modest, cozy home. Mexican pottery, rustic furniture, baskets and traditional Mexican tiles — I was struck by how the décor of their home reflects their hearts. They have embraced the culture, language and spirit of the people in Valle.
The bedrooms upstairs have “niche dorms” — extra sleeping spaces above the full size beds, just big enough for a mattress, that jut out the side of the house like the ends of a pop-up camper. The fully stocked kitchen with hutches and open shelving are visible reminders that this home was designed for serving others.
Tim told us about the girl helping Roberta in the kitchen. She has been living with them because of some tragic events that happened in her family. We heard stories about other young people in their community whose lives have been affected by poverty, divorce, death, suicide and abandonment.
As the rain continued outside, Tim and Roberta told us about their upcoming plans to take 11 of these youth on a two-week camping trip.
As they talked, I pictured flooded tents and swarms of mosquitoes, and I wondered why on earth they would venture out on a camping trip during the rainy season. There was only one reason I could think of: the group of 11 young people that were willing to go with them. It was an opportunity for Tim and Roberta to invest in the lives of these students, an opportunity for them to be the only family some of these kids will ever have.
Spending time with Tim and Roberta reminded me what matters most. People matter more than things, more than convenience and more than comfort. For some of us, we think of religion in the context of beautiful cathedrals, sacred rituals and piety. There is a somewhat surprising verse in the Bible that speaks about true religion. James 2:17 says, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”
Tim and Roberta are the real deal. They daily live this out, and as we left their home, I felt a twinge of sadness, maybe even envy. It's sometimes challenging for our family, living in suburban Chicago with every luxury and convenience within reach, to keep our priorities straight. Sometimes my abundance clouds my perspective. My life becomes cluttered with things and activities, and if I'm not careful, I can stretch my time and resources so thin I hardly notice the needs of those around me.
With the start of a new school year, we've been decluttering closets, sorting through clothes and school supplies, organizing drawers and getting rid of stuff we don't need.
And after our visit to Mexico, I've been more intentional about making room in our lives for serving and reaching out to others.
I want my kids to know that people are welcome in our home, even if the bathrooms aren't clean and my kitchen is a mess. I want them to see me, better yet, help me make a meal, encourage and reach out to someone who needs a little help.
Tim's and Roberta's children have married and moved back to the States. Several of their grandchildren are adopted and have special needs, including Down syndrome and HIV. Their children may not have followed in their parents' footsteps vocationally, but they have followed their parents' hearts — their way of living and loving.
One thing is certain: spending one afternoon with Tim and Roberta has inspired me to live simply, to love extravagantly, and to do my best to rub off on my children the way Tim and Roberta have rubbed off on theirs.
• Becky Baudouin lives in the Northwest suburbs with her husband, Bernie, and their three daughters. She blogs regularly at beckyspen.blogspot.com.