Lord please give me the eyes to see how you see. Pausing to absorb the scenery as I walk along the dusty roads of Puerto Barrios, I notice to my left sits a hibiscus bush intertwined in a metal fence. I come up close and gracefully lift the delicate red flower that hangs there, perfect in form. My eyes follow the plant down to the roots where garbage of all kind is scattered there below. Hmmm, waste birthing beauty instead of beauty birthing more beauty. Not what you'd expect.  Merriam-Webster defines irony as "incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of...

We started out last week going out to the children’s hospital here in Puerto Barrios. I was a little nervous walking in, not knowing what I might find. The rooms reminded me of something out of an old war movie. Old, uncomfortable beds and a handful of patients all put together in one room with different injuries and illnesses. No privacy at all. It being a children’s hospital, the room was also filled families and parents sitting with their sick children. Looking around the room, one little boy in particular stole my heart. He was wearing old, ratty clothes made for man twice...

As the weeks go by I am continually being immersed and challenged by new situations, concepts, and beliefs. God is challenging me everyday to live outside my comfort zone and walk with in His boldness and authority. By abiding in Christ, I can rest in the promise that He is leading me to peaceful streams in midst of battle. God has been teaching me about loving people purely, without attaching any labels to them. And that started at the garbage dump. These families live on the edge of the garbage pile, sleeping and cooking under scraps of wood, plastic, and tarps. In tattered clothes these...

I can still hear the child screaming. We were in the children's hospital prayer walking over the building and for the staff. We had one more area to pray over. As we were standing there, there was a child down the hall screaming in agonizing pain. I had never heard anything like it. The screaming continued, the child barely took time to take a breath. The more I listened, the more my heart broke, the more this sound pierced my ears. I felt like I could almost feel the child's pain. This drove me insane. My emotions were high. I asked God, "Why is this happening? Why does this...

Life in America taught me to be self sufficient. It taught me that we are what we do so we better be doing something pretty great with our lives We better be writing ourselves a pretty great story to live out and to tell.  But life here in Guatemala, with God and my lovely team, is teaching me something completely different.  For so long I have taken it upon myself to be the grower of my own spiritual fruit, the keeper of all my emotions, and the controller of how I am presenting myself to others and how they receive me. But God told me to abide in him. He directed me to John 15...

Today, I truly felt the Father's heart being my only substance. I have always had problems showing emotions or truly feeling anything. It comes from a long time of suppressing and thinking that emotions and God are not what should fuel my tie to my Creator. But, that's the thing, God has created emotions for His glory. Be praying that I am continuously vulnerable to the Holy Spirit and not just open to what He does. But, back to my story: There is a lot of children at this dump that we do ministry at, and a special muchacho named "Igner" or "Egner" (his...

I am looking down at the glitter speckling my arms, however, I don’t know that I really want to wash the flashing spots off.  The sight brings up images of dear children who let their emotions flow free; who have a deep, raw love for anyone who gives them the time of day.  This annoyingly adhered glitter reflects memories of a mother and father sorting garbage as a means to an end.  This is the Puerto Barrios Dump.    Outside the sister towns of Puerto Barrios and Santo Tomas is the dump that serves the surrounding area.  Of course, this is a fact of life...

  "Therefore, behold I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her." Hosea 2:14 Listening seems to be the more passive part of a conversation when in actuality it takes much more effort to listen than to speak. Furthermore, it is essential to actually having a conversation. Yet for some reason when praying I often think I'm conversing with my Lord when in actuality I don't pause to listen to what He has to say. I make my requests and give him my burdens then go on my merry way.  Last week the team went out on a prayer walk...

Hola? Donde? Que? Como se llama? The Spanish words are swirling through my head, every day all day here. I can never put all these foreign words together to make a reasonable sentence let alone understand what anyone is saying to me. It would be an understatement to say that I’ am beyond words frustrated with the language barrier.   One thing that doesn’t require understanding of words is seeing deep into people eyes and looking into their heart. Yesterday in the market I became haunted and forever marked by piercing eyes that I will NEVER forget.    As we walked...