During the months leading up to my departure to South Texas, I made a point to prepare for some of the ways I expected to grow — mainly in my knowledge about immigration, through the stories I’d hear from community members and in the new relationships I’d make. I knew that in some way, God would speak to me through these aspects of my trip. However, I never expected him to be encouraging me to reflect on the theme of family as much as he has.

The past year has been especially challenging for me and my family; it’s been full of change, pain and brokenness. We moved out of the home we had lived in since I was eight, and six months later my parents announced they were getting a divorce. For many reasons, thinking about family today brings heaviness to my heart, along with discomfort in the tension within our relationships.

In the midst of this season, God threw me into another family — one of a widowed mother with seven sons and daughters, three of whom are heavily involved in the ministry I’m serving with. Pastor Eunice and her three daughters live together in South Texas, and as someone entering a family ministry, I’ve seen the emotions, arguments, sacrifice, patience and love that are inevitable within a family.

A week ago, the team and I packed up our bags for a two-day trip to Victoria, Tamaulipas in Mexico. Pastor Eunice’s mom lives in a pink house in a colorful neighborhood near the city center and has battled colon cancer for the past two years, so the family wanted to make a trip to visit her. Tíos and tías (aunts and uncles) from the large family joined us for an almost-complete family reunion.

The day we were set to leave Victoria, we piled eight people into a five-person SUV, with myself and one of Pastor Eunice’s daughters in the trunk. Her other daughter was driving us along a city road when she suddenly braked, then hit a speed bump that sent the two of us in the trunk in the air. We squealed, and the tension from bracing for the impact dissolved into laughter. One of the tías asked, “Is there a mariachi band back there?” and the laughter continued as we kept on driving.

Until we couldn’t. After the daughter slowed down to make a turn, she pressed the gas and the car didn’t accelerate. She turned off the car, turned it on and pressed the gas again, but it didn’t move. Cars behind us began to honk as she re-started her car multiple times and the passengers started growing concerned. Once the car again failed to move forward, we knew we had to push.

Multiple people got out of the car and came to let us out of the back (a sure surprise for the car behind us). We took positions at the trunk and side doors of the car and started pushing it across 2.5 lanes of traffic (supposedly two, but in Mexico road rules are more so suggestions, and two lanes often shift to three). We got to the side of the road — with the help of a kind stranger who parked his truck laterally across the lanes of traffic to block cars — and popped the hood to assess the damage. It turns out that as the daughter hit the bump, the engine got loose (forgive my vague description of car stuff) and it just needed to be reconnected with some tools to function again.

The daughter only had to make one phone call to her tío who lived nearby to explain the situation, and about 20 minutes later, he arrived with his toolbox and got to work on the car. Minutes later the car was driving down the highway as if nothing had happened.

In that moment I could see the power of sacrifice and love in their family. The tío dropped whatever he was doing to help out his family, and did so happily. The daughter that was driving later shared with me how proud of and grateful for her family she is; that they’re so dedicated to and supportive of each other that they wouldn’t think twice before dropping everything to help each other out.

Being around this family — and especially these three sisters — has encouraged me to reflect on the gift of family and my relationship with my own. I can feel God pushing me to re-evaluate my role in my family, the relationships I have with my sisters and parents and the space for growth that exists among the five of us. He’s softened my heart and filled it with love for my family and a desire to make us stronger, despite the challenges we currently and will always face. And overall, he’s shown me how hope rises in brokenness.

Much love,

Katia

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Katia is serving in South Texas from June 19th – July 29th, 2022 as part of our Leadership-Development Program. Her ministry involvement consists of photojournalism work, serving alongside local organizations in South Texas, and supporting our mobilization summer program.