We have come to know one family at the migrant center fairly well. Before they arrived, they had an appointment to enter the United States. However, by the time they had the money to travel to northern Mexico, they had arrived too late. They have been patiently waiting for another appointment ever since. It has been three and a half months. One day, the youngest daughter in the family came to us, asking to be interviewed. Only eight years old, but she had a story and wanted to share it. We sat down and Christina eventually asked, “Why did you leave Honduras?”.

My teammate and I prepared an adult Bible study for the following day at the kitchen table. After some discussion, we settled on Acts 2: 1-13 where the Holy Spirit came down on a group of followers gathered to worship in what will become known as Pentecost. The story of Pentecost is dear to me for many reasons; I announced the pregnancy of both my children on this special Sunday, it normally falls on or around my birthday, and frankly, I think the Holy Spirit is not given enough credit, so I appreciate the stories that feature Her!

Let me first admit that I hate that I don’t have all the answers to share with you about the people that we are interacting with and about these families who have been staying here with us. I work as a Chaplain at a major hospital, so I hear many stories all the time. I like to think that my strength is listening. But here, limited by my language skills, I have so many unanswered questions. I’ve learned to adapt and rely on other life skills and the Spirit to get me through. I’m here to see and each day, I pick up on something new about the system, the effects of the law on the people, the inner workings (and difficulties) of this work of ongoing care for the people who migrate through here, and the mini connections with these families from various countries, and the people in this church and ministry who support them.