MICKEY MOUSE

I grew up in a proper latino household:  No Twinkies or Chocodiles.  We had pan dulce (Mexican sweet bread).  Our popsicles were called paletas. Our Christmas dinner had no ham or Christmas goose.  We had tamales!

Early on, growing up my sister and I spoke Spanish.  One day I told my Mom:  “I’m no longer speaking Spanish!  Mickey Mouse doesn’t speak Spanish so I’m not speaking Spanish.”  With one simple decision I forever affected my value as a future employe.  It’s the one decision I regret the most.  Spanish isn’t like bike riding.  You don’t use it you loose it.  I lost it.  My Spanish today is horrible.  Sarah, my wife (of Irish descent) speaks better Spanish than me.  It’s a sad shame.  It’s embarrassing when I’m in a public place and someone’s looking for someone to translate and they look for the nearest brown person.  I try not to make eye contact but I get singled out.  I know what they’re thinking:  “Your brown.  You must know the language of your people.”  When they find out the truth I see what they’re thinking:  “What’s wrong with you?”  “It’s Mickey Mouse’s fault!” I want to say.  

I’m a 4th generation American.  When my great-grandparents arrived to the US they probably felt very much like visitors in a new land.  That the US wasn’t their home.  Back where they came from was home.  But generations later I’ve assimilated so much that I’ve lost the language.

Too many Christians do the same.  They’ve spent so much time consumed by earth that they’ve forgotten that this isn’t their homeland.  We are just visitors passing through.  We’ve begun to think worldly and embrace the hopeless worldly language.

This is what’s said about Abraham:  By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.  Hebrews 11:9-10

Apparently Abraham viewed earth as a place to stop by.  He had no intention of making it his home.  His mindset on this broken, compromised planet was:  “This isn’t home. Don’t get too comfortable.  We’re not staying long.  But there is a place where I will spend forever!”  Abraham could weather anything life threw at him because he was preoccupied with Home, Heaven!

I think where we make our mistake is we view this life as if it’s eternal and view the after life as if it’s temporary.  Some of us are struggling today because we’re trying to make earth heaven.  Instead of the blessed hope in knowing no matter what crazy things happen on earth I have security in my homeland.

I want to live with more of a eternal perspective.  I’m reminded of the church services growing up and hearing the old songs of heaven.  Looking around and seeing elderly sister so n’ so singing with tears in her eyes.  Heaven was a reality to her.  Heaven meant seeing her loved ones.  Heaven meant no more pain.  Heaven was real.  I want to live with that kind of perspective of heaven.