Por Los Calles Viejos Del Barrios Mexicanos

I love architecture, I love structure in general. I suppose that's the engineer in me and a childhood built upon Legos, Constructs and Brio trains. I love textures, colors and lines. New cities are giant playgrounds to me. I could just walk around neighborhoods and take pictures for hours. I suppose I do that too. I love taking pictures, but my favorite way to capture beautiful architecture is to run through neighborhoods. Running through Mexico has afforded me the opportunity to experience some beautiful and culturally significant areas as well as traditional and commonplace areas that most would deem unworthy of the limited schedule of a foreigner. I love running because it is a core value to me. I will get up early to run. I will run when I'm tired and feel like taking a nap because it is important to me and because I know that it's not everyday that I can run through a beautiful city. Even when I can't run and have to walk, I love exploring the city.

On Thursday when we visited Andrew's family in La Presa, high in the mountains (on the side of a mountain in realidad) I realized why sandals are for eating Huarache's and not for wearing. We were caught in a downpour and his family was so hesistant to let me leave wearing sandals. Ana took some comfort from the stories I shared about how I would wear sandals in high school in the middle of Winter to board the bus for ski trips in rain/sleet or snow. The rain was pouring and the street from which we had to catch the bus resembled a white water rapids ride at Six Flags. Of course we had to cross the street to catch the bus. My sandals and jeans are still wet and their odor did not improve from this incident. I took pictures which I will post later. Side note: I violated my no umbrella rule twice so far aqui in Mexico.

Mexico City is so huge. 27 Million People. Sit on that number for a minute. I have such little sense of perspective and geography in the whole city. I crave control and understanding. Even in the little tiny blocks where we stay, I want to know everything and I feel confident in small pieces, but the city is comprised of hundreds of areas like this and my task of direction seems beyond reach. I pretty much gave up, which I think is good, especially for a visitor. I can just enjoy where I am without knowing the larger picture. I know this is part of God's purpose for me being here. I focus too easily on things that occupy my entire worldview and I lose sight of the Kingdom of God. I can't grasp God's will without knowing His Kingdom.

The past few days we've been staying in Andrew's summer apartment, which is really just a concrete block with a bathroom on the roof of a real house. You have to climb this rickety spiraling staircase just to get there, of which I am no fan. It's actually somewhat exposed to the elements, which makes for chilly sleeping, but I am not one to complain about living simply or without much semblance of American comfort. I almost prefer this place to the fancy apartment we had been staying in, for the simple reason of the view. Last night I sat out on the roof and eventually stood on the wall and just looked out over the city. I couldn't do anything for several minutes. I was moved to read through Jeremiah and hear of his passion and compassion for the Cities of God. I stood and sang as I prayed and just entered into God's arms. I disappear and am empty that I might know God and His amazing love for me. I still know so little about His vast and perfect love for me.

The city folds up like a taco resolving the temporary obstacles the ridges of the mountains provided. The city surrounds you with even more people than you can imagine could possibly live in such a confined area. The houses go up too, layer stacked upon layer like duplos or toothpick bridges. There is something so humbling and overwhelming to see so many houses stacked upon each other, so many stories so tightly packed together invariably tied together regardless of desire. I'm sure the majority of Mexicanos don't stop too often to consider the existential consequences of living amongst so many, in seeming insignificance in the municipal, much less the cosmic scale. I was fortunate to observe the Big Dipper and a few other constellations through the lights and pollution of the city.

Who am I that God is mindful of me and with all the people, problems and issues, how can I waste so much time fretting over things that I allow to expand and dominate my thought life. Today as I walked out of an amazing church service, I was greeted by another hill side village nestled into a massive green mountain and with the Spanish alabanza musica still in my head, I shook my head in wonder as God continues to open my eyes to His world around me and how much grander and greater it is than that which I can fathom.