"Where do I go from here?" a question haunting me for the past three weeks as we come to a close here in Guatemala. Do I go to school? Do I go back to playing ball again? Do I stay home? Work, and save up for another trip? The possibilities are endless. Here's what I really wanted to know "Where will I find the most purpose?"      In all honesty, that was all spurred by fear. Fear of not having purpose. Of me being a nobody. I want to be somebody, we all do. I want to feel like I'm a part of something. Something bigger than...

Today, on May 5th, was my 19th birthday. It is also my last day in Guatemala. So, it is time to tip my hat to this season, and invite the next one in like an old friend.   What this season has shown me is that love is a choice. Love is something Christ knew so well. Christ was the embodiment of love, and He made sure to teach that to the people He met.   So, what are we doing? Besides that, what am I doing? When people are around me, do I love them like Christ? Do they feel the love of God? Do they feel a general tie to my spirit? These are questions I ask myself while...

     Going into this week, my team and I knew Thursday would be the hardest.  Thursday meant  we would say goodbye to the families at the dump. For me it meant saying goodbye to Kati.         For the last time I walked up the long dirt road with the shacks on the left side and the huge pit of garbage on the right. It was wretchedly hot today. When I walked into the little wooden pavilion, Kati was already there. She immediately assumed her usual position on my hip and started tickling Rob who was standing next to us. He tickled back....

What does childhood look like for a typical American kid? Running through sprinklers on a hot sunny day, chasing after the ice cream truck to grab their favorite flavor, going to birthday parties and eating a huge slice of cake, playing at the park swinging and hopping around like nobody’s watching, being read to before bed with a nice big kiss on the forehead before falling gently asleep in a warm cozy bed, and not having a care in the world. What does childhood look like for a Guatemalan kid living at the garbage dump? This is Emerson… He is 3 years old and lives among...

Ahh. Friday, the best day of the week. I get to hold my precious child, but it was so much more than just holding a parentless child; it was a time of joy and worship. As I cling to her, I could feel His arms around me, I could feel my own emotions disarming.  I walk into her room once again; she stares at me with wide-open eyes, but avoids any contact with me. It feels like a test of affection, one I have done many times in my 22 years. I just sit on the bed and wait for her, our eyes lock and they seem to finally brighten. I pick her up, and we go outside. I sing and dance...