Desde el Monte... Preface is
here.
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I've been sitting here for awhile now with the cursor patiently blinking at me. I've even had to wake up the screen once because it figured I had dozed off or walked away. I was so excited about telling you all about my mission trip to Uruguay in 1998 that I forgot that how I ended up on that trip started with some very painful events. Having to remember it all now is not pleasant, but I wanted you to know why I went. Nobody extended a personal invitation to me to go on that trip. I was not studying missions in school. So why did I end up in Montivideo, Uruguay at the end of that spring?
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I dropped out of college in 1991 and did not go back again until 1995. I transferred from the local junior college in Corpus Christi, TX to Southwest Texas State University (now just Texas State) in 1996 to pursue a Bachelor's degree in Social Work. When I transferred to Lubbock Christian University in 1997, I was a senior and just a few days past my 28th birthday. There were some complicated reasons involved in going to Lubbock. The Social Work program at Southwest was considered the best bachelors-level program in the state at that time. But it was filled with atheists - on the staff and among the students. I didn't just need to know how to be a social worker. I needed to know how to be a Christian social worker. There were schools in San Antonio and Abilene that I could have gone to, but based on church preference, a boyfriend, and some complicated family issues, I ended up in Lubbock.
At the end of 1997, the boyfriend and I had a nasty, painful break-up. Coming back from Christmas break to start the Spring semester was so hard. I was not going to be able to avoid seeing him sometimes and the memories that there would be no forthcoming wedding were everywhere. I do not remember exactly what prompted me to get in my little truck and drive nine hours away from home to start another semester. I was so good at running away from painful things that running towards a painful thing was out of character. I wish I could remember what compelled me to go, but I don't. All I know is that in January of 1998 I was back in Lubbock and trying to finish my degree.
I do know that I made a conscious decision to get involved in activities that would keep my mind occupied while not in class. I was involved in a tiny prayer ministry (there were 3 of us). I started going to Senior Class meetings (there were 4 that showed up regularly). I went to basketball and baseball games (I'm a football fan). I went to the optional chapel service on Fridays just for the fellowship (most were going to make up an absence at regular chapel services). I worked three student jobs to take up my time. It was working for me, mostly. My gaping wound of heartache had some bandages slapped on it, at least.

Yes, that is me at 28 years old with pigtails in my hair. No real idea why. Sitting down are Josh (a Senior Class officer) and Tara (a fellow Social Work student and prayer partner). Standing next to me is an extremely nice guy whose name I cannot remember (Correction: Amy has reminded me that this is Shaun Markwardt. Now if we could just remember his girlfriend's name. She was taking the picture.) Selling the Alumni polo shirts was our class fundraiser so we could buy the school a gift from our class. I sold the most shirts!
Why am I telling you all of this?
Because I want you to know that I did not end up on a mission trip because I was noble and altruistic. I was not burning from the inside out with The Great Commission (Matthew 28:16-20). I was trying to stay very involved in school activities so I could avoid thinking about how I was not getting involved in wedding activities (do NOT underestimate how important that is for a girl raised in the Church of Christ). So when it was announced in chapel one day that there would be a meeting in the Bible building for anyone interested in going on a mission trip that summer, I was in. Most of the students in our Missions program were interested in Africa, so I was surprised that there was a trip going to South America, but who cared? It was a mission trip, which was a very popular thing to do at least once while at LCU.