Pumped

Yesterday for the BI work day, I watched kids until 10:45 (while the students did miscellaneous jobs around campus) and then we had worship practice from 11 to 8:45 with a few hour breaks. I was definitely sung-out by the end of the night. We're doing about 9 or so songs--6 of which are 100% Spanish and in the other three I sing some English verses and choruses in the mix (ooh, and on “Lord I Lift Your Name on High”, we sing the chorus twice in Hauve--an indigenous language native to southern Mexico--which is neat because a majority of our students speak Hauve as their first language).

*I'm unofficially a part of the worship team here, now.*

Okay, also, last night was a big bummer but turned out for the better. All day Luci (one of my roommates who is pretty dramatic and extroverted) had been singing at worship practice, however, after cena (dinner) she said she felt sick and was crying. Anyway, we decided to just finish practice without her; well, 45 min. later I was called out of practice to call my Aunt and Uncle (who were running errands in Tijuana) because apparently Luci had “passed out” on the ground. When I walked into our apartment, it was crowded with BI residents who were watching one of the hermana’s here coach Luci on her breathing as she lay on the ground seemingly suffocating/hyperventilating. God insisted I pray for her, so I did. I handed my phone off to someone else who spoke English, plopped on the ground, and began to pray for Luci aloud (in English); during this, people just continued to stare and the hermana just continued to coach. I was hoping others would come lay hands on her as well, but no one did. And I was praying for her breathing to return to normalcy, but that never happened. She actually stopped breathing a few times (or so she had people thinking). I held my fingers on her wrist as I prayed and her heartbeat was regular the entire time. Like I said, she’s pretty melodramatic, and the whole ordeal seemed pretty fishy (like she was exaggerating her symptoms)—I also later found out that she faked a similar episode last year; it’s nothing new. Anyway, I didn’t know this at the time. I just kept praying until the ambulance came.
I was pretty discouraged for two reasons:
#1 I didn’t see any healing manifested, and it took a new place in my faith for me to do what I did.
#2 No one else prayed with me. Why was I praying alone at a Bible School??
I called my Pa for encouragement, and it helped a lot. We finished band practice for another half hour and then I took Efren (a student/ worship team member who speaks good English—he has a cool story) with me to go pick up Luci and Elda from the hospital (Elda accompanied Luci in the ambulance--she is the mother hen in our dorm apartment—I’ll tell you more about this admirable lady in a minute). By the time Efren and I got there, Elda had already been waiting an hour, and the three of us waited another hour before Luci was released.
*Mexico has Health Care similar to the plan we were trying to pass in the States last year. It’s pretty crappy. The hospitals are small and patients are treated like animals—they are dealt with and decided for on the hospital’s terms. Waiting is to be tolerated—no matter how long. There was no telling when Luci would be let out, and they prefer you not to ask.*
The doctors supposedly said that Luci just had indigestion which caused some other pains… but see where I got the fishiness? :)
Anyway, I went home and crashed in my Tio and Tia’s house (that’s two nights in a row I’ve slept in their house instead of my dorm); to be honest, I’m much more comfortable there than I am in here, but in due time things will improve.
This morning I woke up exhausted! So much went on Monday—and to still wake up before 5:30! Ugh. After Devotionals and breakfast I had the morning off until 11, which was so nice (I got a nap in). In daycare I had baby Abril, baby Daniela, and 5-year-old Priscilla this morning; things went great! Both Daniela and Abril don’t cry much at all anymore—and they PLAYED TOGETHER! So neat! After comida at 2 pm, I chilled out for an hour until I had Beteli at 3:30. We tried to spend most of our time outside because it was cooler out than in. Juanita and Keila also came and hung out with us on the deck and I helped Keila with her homework some.
In the middle of my slot having Beteli, Aunt Lila had mentioned to me as we walked past eachother that one of the student’s, Efrain, younger sister had just died today (we had just been talking about her kidney disease—which runs in their family—last week). I didn’t think anything of it; maybe just an “Aw, poor guy.”
That was way too light of a reaction, I later found out. Right after cena at 6, there was an unexpected service for Efrain and his sister. Students and friends of his went up and prayed over him as he sobbed and mourned. I sat their. In the pew. Thinking about my brothers and sister (and even Laura) and how devastated I would be if they died. I don’t even know how I’d react; I don’t even want to think about it. I got teary-eyed anyway.
Then God told me to pray for the resurrection of Efrain’s sister. What? Resurrection? Why not, like, peace for the family or something? She’s dead. In Oaxaca. Well, I guess I could pray for her to come to life. So I did. I commanded her body, from here in Tecate, in the name of Jesus, to rise again. I prayed, in the name of Jesus, for her to have perfect kidney’s when she’s alive again. I commanded Satan, in the name of Jesus, to leave the family alone. I prayed the whole time. It got me excited, really. I’m excited to see if there’s a phone call tomorrow praising God that Aresale’s alive. God can do that, you know. He’s given us the power. I like this healing stuff that my dad is all hyped up on—it’s making me love God more. My dad’s been healing people, in the name of Jesus, left and right this past month.
So Rigo (the blind, aspiring pastor who is a student here) and Jocabed (my roommate with the shaky arm) are next on my list. God’s wants them to be healed; it’s just my job to use the power He’s bestowed. Here I go!

**Efren’s story is that he is an ex-convict who has lived most of his life in the states; he spent five years in prison and then last year when he was sent back to Mexico, he decided to utilize his faith he had gained in prison and become a pastor; so now he’s here.**
**Elda is in her late twenties, 4’9” (the small, but mighty type) and is just an all-around great gal! She deserves THE VERY BEST GUY, when it comes time for her to marry. She’s emotionally strong, a natural leader, and very considerate yet confident. Even though I have to look down at her, I look up to her.**