You're being watched (do you know?)

Pastor Jorge leading us to his house

Do you ever wonder who's really watching you?  Do they watch you because you're wearing something nice, or because you drive a nice car?  As Christians, we know people are watching our lives to see if God is really living in our lives.  

As we travel in Mexico visiting pastors, we know people are watching us, because in the towns and villages where we go, there aren't usually any Americans so we notice that people are watching us because we stand out (sometimes heads and shoulders above the rest). 

In 2006, many pastors from the state of Sinaloa started attending the conference in Chacala (that's a 12-15 hour drive).  Since we like to understand the circumstances of the lives of the pastors who attend the conferences, we started visiting some of these pastors in Sinaloa.  We were always struck at how concerned they were that we call them to tell them that we were coming.  I had saved a number of the their houses on our GPS so I didn't want to trouble them with having to meet us "at the edge of town" as they seemed so eager to do.

When I called Pastor Jorge yesterday to ask him if we could come by he said (in Spanish),

"Oh yes brother Chuck, I'll wait for you right outside of town."

"No, it's OK Jorge, I know where you live, and you don't to have to wait for us."

"It's no problem brother.  You just let me know about when you'll be coming."

"OK. Thanks Jorge."

Today I called at 10am to tell him that we'd be arriving later than I had thought.  We had planned to arrive at 11am, but we would be arriving at noon.

"No problem brother Chuck.  I'm waiting for you."

Was my Spanish breaking down?

"Jorge, we won't be there until 12pm."

Visiting with Jorge and his family.

"It's OK brother."

How many friends do we have that wait 2 hours for us with joy in their hearts when you arrive?  We have more of these friends here than we deserve.


When we arrive at Jorge's house, I'm reminded of what a privilege it is to serve these pastors.  Jorge's entire family (him, his wife and three daughters) live in the one room seen behind us in the picture.

Typical lunch of refried beans and tortillas.

For 20 years, Jorge has been ministering to the indigenous Yaki people who live in the mountains east of the coast.  Five years ago, Jorge was attacked by elements of the cartel, which controls Sinaloa, and caused him to move his family to this house closer to town.  While his location is now "safer", it's still at the center of cartel activity.



In 2010, the area of Guamuchil and Culiacán, Sinaloa erupted with cartel violence to the extent that at night, no one ventures out after dark.  Even just last April (2012) another pastor in this same area, told us that he stopped holding evening services because it wasn't safe for the people to come out of their house at night.  

As we are sitting eating tortillas, fried tofu and beans I see Jorge watch Sydney (who's not eating, she's not a big bean enthusiast) and he makes a phone call.

Jorge: "Hello, brother Pedro.  Do you have a liter of honey?  Can you send your son on the motorcycle right now?  Good.  Thank you.  God bless you."

I look at Sydney.  "You're being watched" I say to her.

"Yes, more than you know Sydney," says Jorge.

When I ask Jorge about how the cartel violence is affecting him now, he says that the violence is down because the cartel is now in better control of the area.  They announced to the people that "the peoples' time" is from daybreak to 10pm, and 10pm to daybreak is "cartel time" when the people should allow the cartel to conduct their business.  

"Everything is recorded," Jorge says.

"When you arrived, your car was reported [to the cartel], your license plate was reported, the people visible in your car were reported, but then because you met me at the edge of town, they knew that you were with me and that was reported" explains Jorge.

Jorge's wife Olga preparing our lunch in their kitchen.

In a few minutes, a young boy drives up in a motorcycle with a soda bottle full of honey.  We pour the honey onto a plate and dip our freshly made tortillas into the honey which Jorge tells us comes from the mountains.  The man whose son brought us the honey goes into the mountains and collects honey from wild nests of bees in trees.  The honey definitely has the "wilder" bite of honey (not the smooth flavor of store-bought honey), but for Sydney this makes an acceptable meal.

Alistair playing Jenga with Jorge's daughter Susanna

I ask Jorge about how his church is going up in the mountains.  He says that even though they can only travel to the mountain areas Friday thru Sunday, the church has grown to around 40 people.  Just last weekend, their church held an event for children and many more families participated.  You can't help but notice that Jorge has MUCH less than the average pastor in the U.S., and yet he considers it a joy to have a ministry where he has sacrificed his comfort and safety to reach people where no one else cares to go.  It's always a joy to visit him, share a meal together and here an update on how his ministry is going because he isn't embarrassed by his humble situation and considers it a honor to have us visit him.

Us (minus Ethan) with Jorge, Olga and their daughters.
We don't stand out do we?