That time I built a house in Mexico
Once upon a time I was in the construction business. Sort of, anyway. This would have been about 20 years ago, and I was part of a mission team with my church. Prior to this endeavor, my construction skills included operating a hammer, a saw, and sometimes a drill. “No experience needed”, they said. “We’ll teach you everything you need to know”, they said. Despite my lack of know-how, I reluctantly agreed to join the team for the building project in Mexico. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help out, I was just concerned about being a liability instead of an asset. That all changed once we got on site.
Just getting to the work site was quite an eye-opening experience. Once we got across the border, we headed through the town of Progresso and into the poorer parts of the area. The level of poverty got increasingly worse as we traveled and by the time we reached our destination I was shocked to my foundation at the squaller and complete destitute conditions. This was the poorest of the poor and we must have looked like millionaires. I sure didn’t feel like a millionaire. My heart truly ached for those people stuck in that cloud of sadness.
With my head still ablur, we had to get to work. The mission group we worked under had a separate team that cut all the lumber for us and had it at the site, which was a big time saver. My friend from church, James was the job foreman and we all leaned on his experience. Like every building, the foundation must be laid first. That part went very quickly, and a separate group started putting the walls together. We must have looked like a swarm of busy bees in that scalding hot Mexican sun, but we got all 4 walls up by lunchtime and painted by quitting time.
I use the word “house” in the academic sense in that it provided shelter, but little more. It was a 12-foot by 16-foot structure that would make a nice shed on the other side of the border, but where we stood it was by far the nicest house in the neighborhood. Even with no air-conditioning, no heat, and no running water it was a massive upgrade for the recipient family.
The next day we got the roof together, laid linoleum on the floor, installed the windows and the door and we were done. At least that’s what I thought anyway. At the end of each project the house is given a finishing touch by donating some decorative items, toiletries, and the like. We also gave the family a cross, a small propane stove with fuel and huge sacks of rice and beans. During the course of the project some of our team members led a Vacation Bible School for the kids in the area and they loved that. The sense of joy in a child’s face knows no border.
After Vacation Bible School concluded, we worked through our interpreter to dedicate the house to the family. Friends, I’m telling you - that was one of the most emotional moments of my life. We let them know that we are all part of a global community and that we came to give and not to receive. The tears were rolling with every word and the gravity of the situation was such that I could cut it with a knife. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was a spiritual infant. I had never seen or experienced anything like that, but I knew that I was in the presence of God. To actually be the hands and feet of Jesus changed me forever.
The column represents the thoughts and opinions of Alan Shoalmire. Opinion columns are NOT the opinion of the Navasota Examiner.
Alan Shoalmire is a resident in Grimes County and the owner of Grill Sergeant Hotdogs and submits a column to the Navasota Examiner every other week.