I sit at a table with three 11-year-old girls. They all look at me expectantly. Waiting for me to give an answer. But I am speechless. On the other side of the porch, the women’s group erupts in laughter as they work through the Bible study. The young men’s group continues in the kitchen. I can hear Victor explaining the passage and telling the boys to look at their Bibles. But as I sit with our small group of girls, I am overwhelmed and feel utterly unprepared. These girls are warriors. Each of them gave their lives to Christ just last year. They are each the only Christians in their famili ..read more

“How am I supposed to know what a good dad is?” Jasper crosses his arms and slumps back against his seat. “I never had one.” I take a breath and put down my plate of stewed greens and beef. A simple meal, shared with Mason and Jasper, the two brothers sitting around the table on my porch. The icy wind rustles through the air and Mason shivers, his sweater not enough for the evening chill. Both young teenagers are thin for their age, a combination of working too hard, playing too much soccer, and not having enough to eat. They are constantly hungry and for me, I love seeing their faces light ..read more

Language School Edgar is waiting for me as usual when I arrive at Christian Spanish Academy. I greet the secretary and head toward our table. I walk to school each day, taking advantage of the quiet cool of the morning Antigua wakes up around me. Edgar always passes me on his motorcycle. He’d felt strange the first few weeks, seeing his new student walking as he flew by. He’d even stopped and offered a ride several times. But I’d insisted I enjoyed the 30-minute stroll. Even though I love the thrill of riding a motorcycle. So, it was decided that he’d take me home after class each day so I’d n ..read more

I have two stops to make before driving back to my discipleship Bible study and the rest of our group waiting for us there.   First to get Joey, then Brian. Grace and I chat in the car as I drive through the Chivoc hills. She’s struggling being the only active believer in her home but is determined to follow the Lord no matter what. We laugh about how incredible it is that we’ve only known each other for a year and a half. Ever since I started discipling her it feels like we’ve become more like sisters than friends. “I can’t believe it took me so long to start going to church again after ..read more

I used to see my tears as a flaw Weakness I tried to hide The emotions I fought to suppress And fears I so despised God has been teaching me how to cry And this year things have changed He brought me low, down in the pit A mask, for tears exchanged Then through these tears, he lifts me up holds me in his embrace His peace comforts my broken soul And tears turn into praise He broke my hardened heart Like hammer upon stone Molding me, shaping me To make this wretch his own Great is thy faithfulness I cry out from the hills Weeping with my brothers I wait as silence stills I have decided to ..read more

“What you told me to do isn’t working, Miss.” I hear the anger building in Caleb’s voice. I look down at the little boy sitting on the dirt path in front of Sarah and Billy’s home.  “No?” Caleb blows out a breath. “You said that when I get angry, I should pray to God so he can take it away.” He scowls. “But every time I pray, I just feel more angry.” The first time I’d heard about Caleb he was hitting his little sister. He’s notorious for his anger and violence with all the children in these cluster of houses. As the weeks passed with me tutoring Sarah and Billy, I would catch Caleb peaki ..read more

I wave goodbye to my coworkers and check my phone. Nancy should be stopping by in a few minutes. She said she’d swing by the school after helping the Cuatro Kids with their homework. She wants to talk to me about something. And I have a feeling what’s on her mind. Sometimes it’s heartbreaking working with them, kids taken out of an abusive and abandoned situation, trying to help them adapt to a new normal. But I’m proud of Nancy. She was in my very first Basico class when I began teaching in Chivoc six years ago. A shy girl, full of doubts. Now she is a woman of God, helping me in a great min ..read more

I lay on the couch, tears streaming down my face. A crushing weight presses down on me. It’s too much. All of it is too much. I can’t help those in need. I heave a breath, sit up, and wipe my tears. It’s fine. You’ll be fine. But then I think again of those around me who are hurting. Society seems to be against them. Sin seems to have an eternal hold on the village.  The brokenness is so much, so deep. I can do nothing to fix it. Why am I even here? I begin to weep again. But even as I do, my mind races. I can’t stay in this pit. I need out. I’ve prayed. I’ve sought the Lord. What else ca ..read more

“Yes, we can do that.” Ms. Marielos takes notes, phone pressed to her ear, as she leans over her desk in the school office. The voice on the other end of the line mummers. Marielos nods and gives me a look. “Alright, we’ll do it right now.” My plans for the last day of school crash and burn. I glance at the other teachers in the office. Elmer shrugs and shakes his head. We all know what’s coming. Marielos ends the call. “She says the kids need to do the project now. So, no more classes for these last two periods, just the project.” My heart sinks to my stomach. I had such a great class planned ..read more

“Why doesn’t God bring the beds he promised us?” Sarah sniffles in my arms. Billy nuzzles closer to me, and I tighten my grip around the two children as we sit on the porch of their simple home. The birds around us sing. The breeze that blows over the mountains is heavy with the smell of building rain. “They’ll come,” I say. “We just have to be patient.” Mary, my fellow teacher, had found two beds for the needy children after hearing that they shared one cot between the family of five. The beds were purchased. The only issue was getting them to the village. But the longer we waited, the more w ..read more