Monday, December 2, 2013

I wake up in the middle of the night to a sick little girl year old calling out "Mommy". She reaches out her skinny little hand so that she can feel that I am there. I hug her and tell her everything is ok. She just wants to know that someone is there to protect her.

The little girl that has been neglected, abused, and abandoned time and time again. A child just 1/3 my age, who has been through more than I could ever imagine. A princess who has had to fight for her life on too many occasions.

She doesn't trust me. She doesn't trust anyone. I can't blame her. She cries every time I leave the room. She doesn't know that I will always come back. She doesn't understand why she must take medicine. She tells me she doesn't feel good, but still she pushes on. She's never had anyone to care for her before.

I didn't plan to be called mommy at this age, but she didn't plan on losing hers either. So I let her call me as she wants. I fill in the gap that left her little heart in pieces, and slowly we begin to heal.

Friday, November 29, 2013

As Thanksgiving ends and the Christmas season starts, many people woke up early and braved the cold in order to get the best sales. When the lights come on and the front door opens the store is bombarded with rushing customers, fighting over what they will buy. I know because I used to do that.

This year for me, Black Friday looked a whole lot different.

I went with Carlos to visit his friends. Carlos is one of our newest additions at Village of Hope. Carlos is deaf and mute, and he used to live in a cardboard box. His friends a lot different than yours probably do, and in order to be able to see them, we had to get into the city dump.

I watched as Carlos carried a plate full of turkey and mashed potatoes from the day before. He hadn't wanted to eat, because he was worried about when his friends would get their next meal. His friends rejoiced to see him again.  He excitedly signed to them about his new home and shared his food. Then slowly he looked at the man shivering in the cold, took of his jacket and put it on him, because he knows he is blessed to have a warm place to go back to.

"If you have two shirts, give one to the poor. If you have food, share it with those who are hungry." - Luke 3:11

This Christmas season, join Carlos in making a difference in the life of others. Pass on the blessing. 

If this boy who has nothing can get it, why can't we?

Lord help us not to be afraid to give away what you have given to us.

To give hope this holiday season go to:

Monday, November 18, 2013

Their eyes are filled with uncertainty, hopelessness and despair. They didn't want to come here, but now they don't want to leave.

As I look at eyes of each these precious girls sitting with me around the table and I see that they cling to every word I say.

I read to them Jeremiah 29:11.

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

They had never heard that before.

No one had ever told them that their life has purpose.

They lived in such circumstances that they thought there was no way out. They believed it was ok to be treated like they were- that they deserved it.

I tell them how wrong that is and how precious their lives are. I tell them they are princesses- because their daddy is a king
Its not always easy to look in to the eyes of a child and see all the ugly that there is in this world, but slowly, I am beginning to see that hopelessness replaced with HOPE.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

My life used to be normal...

"Remember when your life used to be normal?" My mom asked me as we quickly got ready at 3:30 in the morning so that we could take a teenage mother and her very sick son to the hospital and then sit on the floor outside the intensive care unit for 13 hours. Ever since then I've been thinking about that a lot. I think there was a time when my life used to be normal, but my whole idea of normal has begun to change. The things I used to think were normal, now seem vain and insignificant.

Instead of sleeping in until noon, I wake up every three hours on the weekend to feed a baby.

Not the thing a normal teenager would do...

Instead of spending my afternoon at sports practices or hanging out with friends, I spend my afternoon praying for children at the hospital whose names I will never know, as they take their last breath.

Surely I once did normal things...

Instead of purchasing my coffee and taking a seat in a pew in the middle of the cool crowd, only to consider myself christian enough until next Sunday, I sit next to the prostitute and worship the Lord in more than one language for the grace He has given us.

I think there was a time when my life was normal....

Instead of going shopping and gossiping with friends, I find myself changing poopy diapers filled with parasites.

Maybe there was a time when my life was normal...

Instead of spending my evenings at the movies, I spent my time talking to the boy who has lived through more than I have ever imagined, telling him that there is hope.

What is normal?

I'm not sure I even know what the term means anymore.

But I have been learning that when your life doesn't look like everyone else's then you're probably doing something right.

"My child, do not walk in the way with them; hold back your foot from their paths" Proverbs 1:15

My life may not be what anyone else would consider normal, but it has become normal to me.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Feelings on the Field

Its hard to imagine losing everything.

I think we know it would be hard, but we don't fully grasp it.

How can we unless we've lived through it?

I think one of the hardest things that a MK faces is that no one really understands what we go through. People don't understand what it's like to give up your whole life. Even worse- we are expected to be grateful for it, because there are suddenly a whole bunch of people watching your family.

One of the things that I struggle with is that people would tell me they were there if I ever needed to talk, but then they'd give me the same cliche answers about how "things would get better" and "I was gaining an experience" and "they'd moved before so they knew what it was like." I can tell you- I've moved a total of eleven times in my life. I thought I knew what it was like. I thought moving to a different country wouldn't be that different.

I've never been more wrong.

It hard to even wrap your mind around that. Having everything one day, and losing it all the next.

Imagine it with me- You've spent the last couple of weeks selling everything and saying goodbye. Goodbye to the friends you've known since kindergarten. Goodbye to grandma and grandpa, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Goodbye to the church that taught you to have a passion for Jesus, to the school you made so many memories in, to the bed that kept you warm and safe from monsters, to the bikes you rode before you could drive, to the dog you begged your parents for and then watched grow up from a puppy, to the neighbors you caught lightning bugs with on warm summer nights, to the couch you spilled the nail polish on, to all the childhood toys you spent hours playing with on the floor, to the vase you never told mom you broke, to the trophies you won in soccer, to your favorite books that took you on so many adventures, to the table you shared so many meals and conversations at, all of it. Gone.

With tears streaming down your face you say goodbye to the house you grew up in and hug your loved ones one last time, not knowing when you'll see them again, and you walk away with only your immediate family and what you can fit into a 50 pound suitcase and a carry-on.

"With one plane ride the whole world as TCKs have known it can die. Every important place they’ve been, every tree climbed, pet owned, and virtually every close friend they’ve made are gone with the closing of the airplane door. The sights and smells of the market, waves of people walking, darting between honking cars as they cross streets, store signs written in the local language - everything that feels so familiar and “home” are also gone. TCKs don’t lose one thing at a time; they lose everything at once. And there’s no funeral. In fact, there’s no time or space to grieve, because tomorrow they’ll be sightseeing in Bangkok as well as four other exciting places…”
— David C. Pollock and Ruth E. Van Reken, Third Culture Kids: Growing Up Among Worlds

The thing that really sparked me to finish this post was when I saw someone comment on a Facebook status where a fellow MK was mourning her loss and tell her that she'd be fine, she was strong and that she should be grateful for her experiences. People just don't understand that sometimes we need to grieve. After all, we've just had a big loss. When someone loses a loved one, we don't just tell them to get over it. No, we mourn with them and pray for them

I know that even though we lose a lot, we gain even more, but outsiders only see the things we've gained, not what we've had to say goodbye to to get that experience. Its not easy.

This may be the hardest post I have ever written. I usually work little by little on a blog post, throwing in a sentence or two here and there, putting whats in my head onto the screen in front  of me until I feel like God has taught me my lesson and I have all I need to say, so this post has been about two years in the process. Quite frankly, I don't think I'm completely done with this subject, because I don't really have an answer yet. Who knows if I ever will? And on top of that, this is a touchy subject, I don't want to step on any toes, and I don't want to complain, because I absolutely LOVE being a missionary kid. The point of this blog post is not to tell you how horrible it is, because I bet most MKs would agree with me that even in the hard moments, we wouldn't trade our lives for anything, but what I just want to communicate with you is that MKs need you. Remember your missionaries and their kids. Pray for them. Talk to them. Let them know you're there the listen without judgement, without any cliche answers, just love.

 "I pray that no missionary will ever be as lonely as I have been. - Lottie Moon"

Monday, September 30, 2013

I'm not going to college.

I get the same question from every team, usually multiple times. I used to hate answering it, because I'm afraid they won't like my answer.

"What are your plans after you finish high school?"

While I understand their curiosity about whether I plan to stay here or go to college in the states, I hate the pressure it puts on me. Because for the longest time, I knew what I was supposed to do, but I also knew what the world was telling me to do, and those two answers didn't exactly line up. As a matter of fact, they were exact opposites, and I didn't know what to do about it. I didn't know how people would respond. What would people think? What would my parents think?

For so long, I had my plans all laid out for me. I thought I would do like the average person- graduate high school, get a college degree, get a job, climb the corporate ladder- but since moving here, I've realized that those were my plans-not His, and His plans are so much better than mine could ever be. I think that sometimes, when we pursue God without abandon, its going to look at little crazy. People aren't necessarily going to agree with you, and you are going to stand out. You will be judged, you'll be mocked, you'll be persecuted, but above all else, you will be right where God wants you, and that's all that really matters. 

I've known now for a long time that Guatemala was where I was supposed to be, but I kept it a secret, because I was afraid of what I would have to face if people knew.  Everyone else seemed to think I should got to college, if nothing else but for the experience. After talking with a new friend in Washington, I've learned that "There's nothing more selfish than spending 4 years and $80,000 on an experience." That kind of puts it into perspective.

I think that if God is calling you to go to college, then by all means you better be there, but if he's not, why waste your resources for a degree that you'll never use?  And if you are in a season of waiting, if you're not sure what His plans are for your life, then do the only thing that you know for sure is what you've been called to do-make disciples. We live in such a time that it is so easy to go back to school if the Lord calls you to do so at a later time, so I think its okay to wait until God gives you the answers.

Its been cool the way that every time someone comes along and tells me that I'm wrong, making me doubt, God has sent someone to reassure me.

"For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord..."

And so I continue walking close to Him and seeking His guidance for my future.

Friday, September 20, 2013


It has been way to long since I've posted and a lot has gone on in the meantime, including a trip to the Domincan Republic, two trips to the states, my brother's wedding and the first child at Village of Hope, so I think its time to catch up with these pictures while I write a more in-depth post.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

No Fear

We live in a world full of sin, and along with sin comes fear. We fear sending our kids to school because of the Newtown tragedy. We fear running a marathon because of the Boston bombing.
We fear what is happening with our nations leaders. As humans, we are afraid of many things. I for one am scared feet. I don't like them. They gross me out.

"The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?" - Psalm 118:6 

I want to live a life without fear. Now, I'm not just talking about silly fears, like my foot repugnance, but what about the fear of giving our all to God? 

I am often guilty of letting my fears stop me from what God has told me to do. I am guilty of trusting him, until it gets too scary. Its easy to pick up your cross and follow Him when you're walking through a field of flowers, but what about when He asks you to walk through the valley of the shadow of death? 

Since the day when I completely turned my life over to God, I've been rejected by a church, not allowed to go to a school, disowned by a family member, held at gunpoint, forgotten by friends and I've given up everything I owned to move to move to a place where I didn't know the language or the culture. Not exactly easy. (So for those of you who say they want my life, I advise you to rethink that) But through all of the hard times and through all of the pain, my Father has never left my side, so what do I have to fear?

I guess its just one of those things that are so simple to say, yet so hard to do, but that is the way I am trying to live my life.


Without fear.

Without fear of goodbye.

Without fear of rejection.

Without fear of judgement.

Without fear of the past.

Without fear of the future.

Without fear of pain.

Without fear of weakness.

Without fear of death.

Without fear of failure. 

I want to live my life is such a way that I have nothing holding me back from telling the drunk man or the prostitute about Jesus. I don't want to be afraid of giving my all for the Lord even in scary situations. I want to trust him wholeheartedly. No reserves. No restraints. No regrets. No fear.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Earthen Vessels Magazine

Recently, I had the privilege of writing an article about life in Guatemala for the latest issue of Earthen Vessels, a publication celebrating family, youth entrepreneurship, missional living, adoption, faith and lifestyle learning, edited by Emily Berger, the second oldest of sixteen children.

To request a free sample print issue, email

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

"Why did God have to make my life and my family this way?"

Rip. my. heart. out.

Speechless, I stared into Rosa's deep brown eyes. In all honestly, It was a good question.

Rosa comes by our house almost every day. She's usually just passing by, bringing flowers, asking for something to fill her aching belly...or just looking for hope in a place where she feels like she matters. Whenever I can, we sit together on the porch as she eats and I listen to her story. She has begun to open up to me, and that I consider a privilege.

I remember one day we sat on the porch, watching her brothers play and eating peanut butter sandwiches. We had just read a bible story about friends, so I asked, "Who is your best friend?" I got tears in my eyes as she pointed at me.

Sometimes I feel incapable when I look at the world around me. Everywhere I look there are broken and hurting people like Rosa, and it doesn't make sense to me.

Why does her life have to be that way?

Why does she have to live in an abusive situation.

Why does she never have anything to eat at home?

Why can't she go to school?

Why do all 12 of her siblings live in one room?

Why can't she be a normal kid?

Not fair doesn't begin to describe it.

 Anything I could come up in response to her question  seemed so cliche.  Its simple to say God is good all the time for someone whose life is all in all pretty good. But what about for someone who has absolutely nothing good in her life. How does that sound to a child with no hope, to someone who is called 'lice' by the community around her.

Her question has left me thinking, and I still don't have an answer. I don't know that I ever will this side of Heaven. All I know is that God's ways are not our ways, and His thoughts are not our thoughts... and I know HE doesn't call her 'lice' HE calls her His precious child.

It makes me think of the quote, "Sometimes I would like to ask God why he allows poverty, famine and injustice in the world, when He could do something about it...but I'm afraid He may ask me the same question."

While I may not know why bad things happen, I do know that when we see something wrong, and we have the ability to do something about it, we are responsible to do something about it. (James 4:17) Its not enough just to look into the face of injustice and say "poor you." You must take action.

“... Let us love, not just in word or speech, but in truth and action.”

- I John 3:18

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

You know you're a missionary kid when...

I read a post the other day about how to tell if you're a third culture kid, so I decided to make my own list. :)

You know you're a missionary kid if...

1.You don't know where home is.
2.The question "Where are you from?" does not come with a short answer.
3.Your life story uses the phrase "Then we went to..." five times.
4.You'd rather never say hello than have to say goodbye.
5. You think football is played with a round spotted ball.
6.You realize how small the world is.
7.You go to a church you have never been in before and find your picture on their bulletin board.
8.You had a passport before you had a drivers license.
9.You've missed a Skype call due to confusing the time zones.
10.Your neighbors say, "I met an American once" and then ask if you know them.
11 Sometimes you do..
12.You've spoken at many churches even though you aren't a pastor.
13.Your friends are mostly people that visited for a week.
14.You're surprised when a driving rule is enforced.
15.All black people do not look remotely alike, nor do Hispanics or Asians.
16.You don't know whether to write the date as month/day/year or day/month/year.
17.You know whats its like to be the minority.
18.You're used to people rubbing your skin or touching your hair because they've never seen anything like it.
19.You don't take anything for granted.
20.People all over the world know who you are, but you have no idea who they are.
21.Way to often you have surprised people by saying, "I know what you said" in their language
22.You are used to people staring.
23.You divide your friends based on where they live.
24.You're not afraid to eat food that you can't even pronounce.
25.You have found yourself struggling to read what something says, only to realize that you're trying to read in a different language.
26.Switching languages in mid-sentence seems normal to you.
27.You are not surprised to see people peeing or sleeping on the side of the road.
28.Seeing 16 people in the back of a truck seems normal.
29.There is always room for one more person on the bus- even if that means hanging off the side.
30.You know words in another languague that you don't even know in your national language.
31.You have no clue whats in style.
32. People have asked you what language you think in.
33.You feel surprisingly at home in an airport.
34.You are a giant compared to your friends.
35.You've been to the places most teenagers only read about in their textbooks.
36.You know the value of peanut butter.
37.You have rainy season and dry season, not spring, summer, fall, and winter.
38.You get annoyed when people waste.
39.You understand what all of these mean.

Monday, May 6, 2013

They corrected me when I asked, "Are you pregnant?" instead of "Are you embarrassed?"and they corrected me when I  said, "I have a man" instead of "I am hungry." Through all of my embarrassing Spanish mistakes (some much worse than the ones listed above) no one has been the least bit rude to me. Occasionally they laugh, I don't blame them, it is kind of funny, but they have always corrected me in a loving way, helping me to learn.

In the states, its pretty common to hear someone say, "If you're in our country, you need to speak our language."

That makes me sad.

Don't get me wrong, I love my home country. I truly believe that it is the greatest place to live. We have everything we could ever need right at our fingertips.

We have healthcare so that we don't have to die of AIDS, or lay in bed with no skin because it got burned off and we can't afford a transplant, or be crippled because of polio.

We have good education, so that our kids can learn to read instead of repeating their fourth year of second grade because there are too many students stuffed into a classroom where the teacher just graduated high school and has no book to teach out of, so he just teaches off the top of his head.

We have security, so that people can't just walk around robbing people at gunpoint. (Not saying that this doesn't happen in the states, but it definitely happens a lot less.)

We have food stamps, so that families don't have to go hungry once again.

We have clean water, so that children don't get sick with parasites.

We have freedom.

We are a blessed country, but I think that sometimes, we forget just how blessed we are.
 Since moving to Guatemala, I've realized just how hard it is to learn a language. Its definitely not something that is just going to come to you the moment you step foot over the border. Languages take years to master.

Quite frankly, as people of the United States (I'm not real fond of the word American unless it relates to people from North, South, and Central America, but that's a post for another day) we are ignorant. We fail to realize that these people are trying. It's not easy, especially when everyone keeps knocking them down.

We get angry, saying that anyone with brown skin is an illegal immigrant from Mexico. Let me just share a little bit of knowledge with all of you. Not everyone with brown skin is from Mexico, and not all of them are illegal. Sure, some of them are. I've met the ones who have been deported. Honestly though, I can't blame them. If you saw how they lived, you would understand why they want so badly to go to the land of opportunity.  Not to mention the fact that all of our ancestors were at one point immigrants.

Let me share something else, the United States is one of the only countries where the majority of the people only speak one language.

Yep, that's right, we get angry with others when they don't know our language, but we fail to put forth any effort to learn any other than our own. Most of my friends in Guatemala not only speak Spanish, but they speak a Mayan language too, and its the same thing in many other countries.

We truly live in the greatest country there is, which is why so many people want to go there, but why don't we make it better by trying to help others instead of judging them.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Out of your zone

A few weeks ago, I sat in a small room in the American School in Guatemala City along with eight other teenagers who were taking the ACT. We didn't have anything thing in common except for the fact that we don't fit in.

During one of the test breaks I asked one of the other kids where he was from. He kind of chuckled and shook his head. Then he looked and me and said, "I don't know." He went on the tell me that he had lived in 4 different countries, but he had never stayed in one place long enough for it to feel like home. I think that's what life is like for a lot of missionary kids. We are stuck between different countries and cultures, and we don't belong in any of them.

In some ways, never knowing where I come from or where I belong has been so hard for me. Is home in Guatemala or Texas or Indiana or Illinois or Pennsylvania or one of the many other places I have lived? Is home a place or a feeling? Is home where the family is? Is home where the heart is? To be honest, I don't have an answer. I'm homeless, both in the physical sense (our family seriously owns no house) and sentimentally. But on the other hand, this feeling of not belonging anywhere has made me cling to my savior all the more. While I may not have a home here on earth, I am a citizen of Heaven, and I know that there is a place waiting for me.

I have come to realize that as a Christian, I am not supposed to feel like I fit in or belong, because I don't belong on any place here on this earth.  This place is only temporary. We are not supposed to ever be comfortable, because the moment we start feeling safe is when we start trusting in our security instead of depending on God. When we feel comfortable, we lose our sense of urgency to find those who are lost and to help those who are hurting.

I recently read a quote that said, "The greatest enemy to human potential is your comfort zone" I think its pretty safe to assume that God's potential is way greater than ours could ever be, but in order for Him to work in us, we have go to get out of our comfort zone. I think that the Lord allows us to feel like we don't belong here so that we anxiously wait for the day that we get to be with Him. He allows us to struggle, because it in is these difficult times that our faith is strengthened and we turn to Him.

I know that as a human, comfort is appealing to us. That's why we stay in hotels that are labeled as comfortable. We shoes that are comfortable to walk in and clothes that are comfortable to wear. We eat food that brings us comfortable and we surround ourselves with people that we are comfortable around. That is not how Christ intended for it to be! I don't think Daniel was comfortable when he spent the night with lions.  I'm sure Job wasn't comfortable when God stripped him of everything he had on this earth. I bet Paul wasn't comfortable all those times when he was persecuted, and I can guarantee that Jesus was not comfortable when he hung on that cross, but think of how those stories were used for the glory of God!

Following Jesus is not supposed to be easy, its really hard. It requires dying to yourself in order to live for Christ. It means picking up your cross daily to follow Him. The cross isn't a piece of jewelry that we wear around our neck, it is a weapon of torture! But it will be worth it on the day that we stand face to faith with the Father and he tells us, "Well done my good and faithful servant."

I encourage you to take that first step out of your comfort zone and into the unknown. Let God guide your path, one step at a time.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Am I missing out?

As the end of the school years draws close, I realize how many things I would have been doing, and I am reminded  of everything I am missing out on.

I probably won't ever have the memories of dressing up for Prom or playing on a Varsity team. I might never go on a Senior trip or drive to the mall to hang out with friends after class. I may never walk across the stage to get my diploma.

Sometimes, I mourn for the things I am missing. Sometimes, I desire to be a normal teenager, and I wonder, "Does being a missionary kid cause me to miss out on the fun things in life?"

This week, I got my answer.

I spent a couple of days this week translating for a team of surgeons. People had traveled for hours, some even from out of country, just to come to the evaluations. They stood outside the doors, clinging to their families, and what seemed to be their last hope. One by one, they passed through those doors, only to leave a few hours later, some with their names on the surgery list. I stood on the inside of those doors, working with the doctors, loving on sweet babies and learning their diagnoses.

The next day, I went back to the hospital for the first day of surgeries. As I suited up in scrubs (thanks Dr. Casatelli) a surgical mask, and head and foot covers, I couldn't help but think of all the families who were depending on this surgery. I couldn't help but think of the lives that were being changed, and I am so thankful that I got to be a part of that.

I think I had always taken the things that go on inside an operating room for granted. I just knew that people went in there with something wrong, and they came out with it fixed. This week, I learned just how important each and every step is. I learned just how guarded every single utensil is, if just one piece of dust were to land on one, the whole set would have to be re-sterilized. Each motion is so precise, because it could mean life or death for that child.  Each patient is monitored so closely, from the moment they fall asleep due to the effects of anesthesia, to the moment they wake up, not having any clue what just happened to them.

I stood in the operating room as they put in a shunt and drained the liquids out of the head of a little girl with hydrocephalus. I watched as they untethered the cord of a child born with Spinal Bifida. I saw the difference that was made in the lives of these children when they were healed. It was seriously one of the coolest things I have ever done in my life.

So, to answer my question: no, I am not missing out by being a missionary kid, I am actually gaining. I may never go to high school dance or walk across a stage, but I am dancing with Jesus and walking on His path. God's plans for me include something bigger than high school drama, and I couldn't be more thankful for it.

"For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it." -Matthew 16:25

Monday, March 25, 2013

 "A la izquierda!" He yelled from the top of the tree. The little girls moved to the left just in time to catch the falling avocado.

Over and over again I am blessed by people who have next to nothing, and yet they still give of what they do have.

Yessica's family may not have much, but they share the little that they have. 

Last Thursday, we visited with their family. We prayed with them and delivered some basic groceries. Just before we left, Yessica's 11 year old brother climbed up the avocado tree to knock us down some avocados. They told us that it was the least they could do to say thank you.  

This family could barely afford to eat, yet they shared their food with us.

I stood there in awe. 

Many times, we have all we need. 

Much more than we need really. 

Yet we cling to all of our stuff, fearing that we will lose it. You see, we don't put our trust in God, leaning on Him to provide. We might say we do, but in all reality we are putting our trust in our comfort and our security and our bank account instead of in the Lord. 

Its easy to say we trust God, when we've got our savings as a back up plan. 

Its easy to say we love God, when our lives are good. 

Its not so easy on the other side of the world.

What if we lived like the Guatemalans do?

What if we had to rely on God for everything we need?

What if we prayed before buying anything, like we couldn't buy it without God's help. 

You might just find, that God has a different plan for that money anyway. Maybe you don't need that can of coke. Maybe a child needs shoes. Maybe you don't need that new purse. Maybe a child needs school supplies. Maybe you don't need that new outfit. Maybe a child needs medicine.  Maybe you don't need that boat. Maybe a child needs a home.

I encourage you to fully rely on God. Ask Him how he can use your life instead of telling Him how you want it to be.




Make your life count. 

It may be scary, it may be radical, people may even think you're going crazy, but you've got to jump out of your comfort zone, trusting that He will catch you. You may just find, that when you finally lose yourself to Him, you might just discover what you were made for.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

People are always asking me about my friends here, to be honest, for quite some time after moving here, making friends was really hard for me. Its so hard to find friends when everyone around you is so different from you- and you don't speak the same language. Its even harder to see that your friends back home are having fun and have gone on and completely forgot. That leaves you on the other side of the world, struggling and alone.

Yet in reality that was blessing- because it forced me out of my comfort zone and pushed me to find the friends I have now which I am so thankful for. 

I now find myself hanging out with people that are different than me- and different from my friends in the states- and I appreciate that more than I could ever say. I am so thankful that God has put them in my life.

It's kind of fun how God has given me different groups of friends. It was the same thing in the states, I would have friends from my church, friends from my school, friends from my volleyball team, and friends from the different places I have lived. So, let me introduce you to some of my amazing, beautiful, unique friends who have taught me so much more than I could have ever imagined.

My ministry friends...

I have a lot of ministry friends, Rosa and Yessica for example. The friends I visit and  pray with. Oh how I adore them.

My soccer team...

 I play in a men's soccer league with my brother. All the boys on the team live in our area. Within the team, there are a couple of boy who come to our house a lot. If you were to come to my house on any given day, there's a pretty good chance you would see some of them. These boys have started going to church with us and joining us for group devotions.

My youth group...

I absolutely love my youth group, full of missionary kids and Guatemalans. I seriously don't know what I would do without them.

Inside my youth group, I am lucky to have these group of amazing girls who are both missionaries and missionary kids. I adore these ladies.

Recently I've always been able to do a lot of translating with these guys from my church. I love getting to work with them and do ministry together.

And then there are my friends back in the United States. They people who I knew before I came here, or the people who came on mission trips, people who I have never met, but yet they pray for me and I consider them my friends.

I am so grateful for all of these people in my life that I now call 'friend'. I am truly blessed.

Proverbs 27:9 “The heartfelt counsel of a friend is as sweet as perfume and incense.”