Getting Back Into Recording the Journey

It's been nearly five months since my return to the States and it has now become an undeserved commodity to sit at my old room, at my (new) desk in the house that saw and witnessed the range of family ups and downs within high school and middle school, in the town that witnessed most of my childhood. Have you ever felt like you're middle of so much bliss and things longed for that you know the grave abuse not savoring it anymore? In rare occasions I give myself the time to notice my ingratitude and the most selfish attitude of vanity and selfishness I allow myself to easily nest and feed of. How easily do I ask myself,  mainly bitterly, of the pain and brokenness of the world and its affect on my own cross but forget to be utterly repulsed at my direct contribution to it all- and how often is not rhetorical here, every day I do this and perhaps ever more frequently since the return of this young pilgrim.


But this is no woe post of course, but rather a necessary acknowledgement in the records for myself. Blessings experienced in the past 5 months have been sweetly held in my memory and now ever more eager to continue its recordings. A beautiful chapter of my life has been closed and despite my daily ungratefulness God gives me enough sanity (ah, praise for Mercy!) to see what I must do for a holy journeying in the years to follow, even if my will strongly battles with it at the moment.

The Desert

I've been on the border city of Cuidad Juarez, a few meters (or an inch like in the above picture) from El Paso, TX for about 3 days. The quality of my phone camera is really VERY poor so I was not able to capture in an image the painfully DEEP and stinging contrast between the two cities meters away from each other. Both cities lie in a desert and yet Cuidad Juarez is the only one that shows this for when I looked over the fence to glance at el Paso all I could see the very characteristic American highways, big trucks, huge hospitals, hotels and the whole infrastructure rising above its neighbor, a city filled with dust, graffiti and slums (the bordering part of Cuidad Juarez is the oldest part of the city, and hence in worst conditions than other places, for example, the U.S. consulate near my hotel) where one wonders if for its residents in Juarez (or likewise in El Paso) do not wonder how this can be, and silently feel some sort of desperation or remorse. For myself I couldn't help but wonder how I could have grown up in Juarez near its slums, WATCHING with my own eyes a life and place SO different from mine and know for whatever reason I was born a few meters south of a city that I could see but never enjoy. I still can't fully grasp the image I saw a few hours ago I must confess. No, my God, I still cannot grasp why in the above picture you'll find pieces of trash, stray dogs and houses in the desert in Juarez while El Paso you see Border Security vans protecting with guns and a fence anything resembling Juarez.

The desert is a beautiful place, desolate and full of false promises and yet come and see like I did this place, on Juarez, and don't tell me why you don't understand why a 12-year old boy risked his life to cross the desert, he knew El Paso, he had been watching the city his whole life. 

Today I was able to experience something QUITE wonderful, all praise and thanks to God! I gathered with a group of students from St. Joe's University to talk right across the fence, to ask about and listen to the immigration dilema. I shared my story, which in Juarez was coming to its end. I heard others, who in God's great Mercy and Love had traveled much longer and painful journeys. I saw the desert, and saw border patrol too, right across the fence, worried about me, about us, worrying that the U.S. was threatened by a few older women and a young woman. I saw my friend after nearly two years, but the fence impeded me from hugging her, the best we could do was pass our fingers through the fence and touch, even if barely. I heard students wishing me luck, desiring to show me New York when I return, excited to consider St. Joe's. It was touching, I felt unworthy to have that hope...most there did not. And so we prayed, in a circle, on the fence, touching hands, everyone still on their respective countries despite our inches in distance..... and I thank God DEEPLY for it!

The desert IS a beautiful place, in fact, I think it's the VERY first time I've been able to see one, but ever more beautiful was the experience that occurred there this Friday morning......