I wanted to answer some questions that I’ve been asked these past 4 months,
“How did you know the world race was something you had to do?”
“Aren’t you afraid of what might happen in those third world countries?”
“Aren’t you afraid of getting sick out there?”
“You’re okay with living in a tent?”
“What about your job, what’s going to happen to it?”
_______________________________________________________________________
If you read part one than you know the B.C. version of me “before Christ”
this is part two the A.D. version of me “after death” whose death MY death.
My real life began when I surrendered my life to Jesus and that’s also when the real battles began.
Before Christ I was a slave to the kingdom of darkness, now that I’m living for Christ I’m a threat to the enemy himself.
These past 5 years have been mountain tops and valleys. Walk with me while reading part two and get to know why I have the faith that I do.
________________________________________________________________________
October 20, 2011 it was a Thursday night and I was going to attend Paradigm which is one of the college ministries in Lubbock. I had been attending since I moved to Lubbock in 2009, but in 2011 I felt the need to attend more and more. So, this specific Thursday was going to be a little different instead of it being at First Baptist Church it was going to be on campus at the Allen Theater. I asked my roommate Claudia if she wanted to join me and she said yes.
Both of us didn’t know what we were in for, especially me. We went into the Allen Theater and we sang the worship songs and then Chaplain Steve took the mic (he was Texas Tech’s Chaplain for the football team). He started to share a little bit of his testimony. Then he dove into the scriptures, Luke 15 to be precise. He dissected it so beautifully and each word literally hit me like bullets.
Luke 15:1-7 is about the lost sheep. There were 100 sheep and the Shepard lost one. He left the 99 in the wilderness to go find the ONE. Luke 15:8-10 is about the lost coin. There was a woman who lost a coin in her house. She swept and cleaned until she found the ONE silver coin.
Luke 15:11-32 is about the prodigal son. The son went up to his father and demanded his inheritance. The father without hesitation gave his son what was going to belong to him after the father passed away. The son went to a far away land to spend his inheritance partying and “living” it up. When he spent all of his money he quickly realized he was alone and poor. With no one to turn to he decided to look for a job. His job was to feed pigs. He was so hungry that he craved the pigs’ food. The son realized what he had done and went to his father’s house to ask for forgiveness and for a job as a servant. To the son’s surprise the father ran to him with open arms and embraced him with so much love and mercy. The son apologized and before the son could say anything else the father started giving the servants orders to bring the BEST robe, sandals, ring and kill the fattest cow.
The father continued by saying, “for this my son was dead and is alive again: he was lost and is found” Luke 15:24
________________________________________________________________________
The Holy Spirit began to minister to me and in my mind I placed myself in those parables.
I was the lost sheep that Jesus went to go looking for.
I was the lost coin that kept going to the house of God.
I had been going to church for so many years but I was incredibly lost. I knew of God but I didn’t know God. I went to every service to cross it off my to-do list, but I never let the message of the cross seep in. Chaplain Steve said,
“I came to this service to find the lost coins. Those of you that grew up in a Christian household, but never knew God for themselves”.
Then he began to talk about the prodigal son. “Some of you have come to Texas Tech because it’s hours away from home. This is your far away land. This is where you’re wasting your inheritance.”
When he said those words they pierced my soul. That was MY story. I left Garland, TX to go 6 hours away so that I could finally live the way that I wanted to. I was tired of the curfew and sick of having to ask for permission (which I hardly did cause I was a stubborn brat). “Just like the Shepard left the 99 sheep, He’s here tonight to find the lost sheep, He’s here tonight to take you back home”
________________________________________________________________________
“But when he came to himself” when the prodigal son came to his senses he realized he had it better in his daddy’s home. October 20th, 2011 I came to my senses
and the gospel finally clicked in my mind, heart, spirit and, soul.
Then Chaplain Steve asked if there was anyone that would like to give their lives to Christ. He said, “raise your hand” I thought, “raising your hand isn’t so bad we’re in a dark auditorium.” So I raised my hand. Then he said, “ok those of you with your hands raised please stand up.” Then I fought it for a few seconds and stood up. Then he said, “ok check this out, Jesus never called anyone privately he called them publicly so if you lifted your hand or are standing up please make your way to this stage so we can pray with you.”
In my mind I told myself, “heck no there’s no way I’m going up there!” And before I knew it I was on the stage looking down into the audience. The lights were so bright above my head. I was seriously freaking out. Then Chaplain Steve led us into prayer.
I distinctly remember him going to each of us saying “God bless you, God bless you, God bless you” and he kept going down the line and when he came to me he said,
“God’s got a tremendous plan for your life.”
Boy, when he said that a felt something on the inside and a big fat WHY? in my head. He told us this is your spiritual birthday so celebrate it with cake for the rest of your life (and that’s what I’ve done for almost 5 years). That night I told my sisters and family that I gave my life to Christ.
________________________________________________________________________
Well like I mentioned before – REAL battles didn’t begin until after I gave my life to Christ. Before I belonged to the kingdom of darkness, but now I was a threat to the enemy.
________________________________________________________________________
When I gave my life to Christ, my mom became someone very close to me and helped me during my new walk. One of the things I was scared about was where was I going to congregate. I told her, “I can’t go to your church mom, I just can’t. That place has never been home to me.”
Sunday November 27th, my parents and I visited a new church. From the parking lot to our seats inside we were bombarded with welcomes, smiles and handshakes. When the worship began, in my mind I was transported to how I felt when I was 8 years old. Instantly I knew “I was HOME”. I can happily say that “Casa De Mi Gloria” (House of My Glory) is still my home.
I wasn’t done with school yet, I had a few more weeks to live out in Lubbock, TX. So I went back to end the semester. My friends and I had planned to throw a small get-together for our graduations. While I was seating at church I remember the Holy Spirit telling me to cancel the party. I began to wrestle with the voice. I was seriously trying to tell Him that it’s going to be small and won’t be a big deal.
Wednesday night came, the get-together began and one cup of alcohol turned to 3 and then to 5. Before I knew it there was a party in the apartment, then we were at the club. Then there was an after party, then there were a lot more drinks, soon I had blacked out. Then I woke up Thursday morning. Hung-over. I started crying. “God, again, I failed. I can’t do this. I’m never going to be able to do this “holy thing”. I’m always going to let you down.”
Mannnnnnn, when I tell you that God LOVES us. I mean it. God embraced me. He loved on me. He reminded me that I was His. That there were no “returns”. Since that “mishap” I have NEVER been drunk again. All the honor and glory goes to my Abba Father.
________________________________________________________________________
December 31st, 2011 was spent at Casa De Mi Gloria with my parents and sister Zina and it was GLORIOUS and beautiful! I was so grateful to spend my New Year in my brand new home of worship. I knew life would be different. I was excited and giddy to see what the new year had in store. I was now a college graduate. I had my bachelor’s in early childhood but still needed to pass one more test to be certified to teach in Texas. I was going to take the test at the end of the month.
January in Casa De Mi Gloria is when the whole congregation does the Daniel Fast for 21 days. This was my FIRST time fasting. I went into it because I was READY to grow in Christ and I wanted to taste God in EVERYTHING. MANNNNNN, that was the hardest thing I had tapped into during my first few months as a believer. God graced me through it.
I went back to Lubbock for two weeks to take my Texas Certification Exam and to move the rest of my stuff out of my 3 year apartment. I had 2 weeks to witness to my sorority sisters, frat brothers, and friends. It was BEAUTIFUL! I was able to love on them like never before and some even accompanied me to Paradigm (remember the service where I surrendered).
My roommate Claudia texted me, “I admire you. The way you’re inviting your friends to church and showing them who Jesus is.” When I read that text I fell to my knees. “God I never knew anyone was looking at me. I’m not perfect. This is too much.” The Holy Spirit began to bring to my mind people that I had offended throughout my stay in Lubbock and I knew exactly what to do.
I began to text people apologizing to them for my crappy behavior. I told them that Jesus changed my heart and that I wasn’t the same person. Some replied accepting my apology and some are my close friends nowadays.
God MOVES.
God RESTORES.
God REDEEMS.
February 2012 I was able to spend the month in San Ciro de Acosta, San Luis Potosi loving on my family and especially my maternal grandparents. I was making up for lost time.
It was truly beautiful. I remember one church service the Pastor’s wife approached my cousin and told her, “What happened to Celenne?, she’s not the same girl that used to come here.”Soon I started getting that question wherever I stepped into. God was mending my heart and shining His light through it. Each time He was humbling me more and more.
That March I came back to the States. A few days later I ended up in the ER. “Gallstones, you need to get your gallbladder removed” is what the Dr. said. I smiled and nodded, took the morphine and went home. Crazy people there’s no way I’m getting rid of an organ. So I did what most folks did and went to GOOGLE. I googled healthy diets. I lost 20 pounds. I felt and looked good. I kept eating right for a few months.
March 2012 I started working with the youth and children’s ministry at church. God started moving. He started talking to me in ways that I didn’t even think were possible.
5 teenage girls came into my life for me to minister and love on. I loved them with everything I had. We shared meals. We shared long car rides. We shared tears and laughs.
Summer 2012 We started going to Ft. Worth, TX to evangelize door to door and to ultimately plant a church. Friday nights were spent in an hour car ride to and back. With nachos, pinatas and Jesus in between.
July 2012 I went back to Mexico to be baptized. I attended a nation youth convention in Leon, Guanajuato, MX where 16,000 young people came to worship the Creator.
It was beautiful and it ROCKED my world.
Summer 2012 was also when I started to use my degree and became a Summer Coordinator for a Reading Program with inner city kids. I fell in love. God started telling me about how much He loved these babies. Which equipped me with love for them too.
________________________________________________________________________
August 2012 the job was over with, so I did what people with teaching degrees do, NOT step foot into a classroom. For some reason I didn’t feel ready to step into my own classroom. Now I know why. SO meanwhile I started working for an immigration lawyer. I met a lot of people that went through the DACA process and was able to minister to some as well.
December 2012 I was back in the ER and this time they wanted to slice me open then and there. I told them no. I packed my bags and headed for Mexico. I had surgery there. My aunts and grandma cared for me like an infant. I didn’t know how much I needed that.
2007-2010 all I did was spend my time with my then boyfriend and I kicked my family to the curb.
2011 when the relationship ended I resorted to alcohol NOT my family.
So the surgery was actually one of the BEST things that could have happened to me.
My aunts, and grandma took the best care of me and really showed me what a servant’s heart looks like. A few hours after the surgery I remember waking up from the anesthesia and the Dr. checking on me and telling me, “Celenne I have no idea how you have been able to walk around with the gallbladder you had. That thing was so swollen it should have burst. It was so full of gallstones that would have been toxic to your body.” I clearly remember laughing and saying “oh really” but my laughter wasn’t because I thought it was funny, my laughter was because GOD IS AWESOME!
He continued on by saying, “it was honestly one of the worse gallbladders I have ever removed in my whole career. (He preforms hundreds of these surgeries a year).Now I can look back to that moment and see a victory. However the recovery from the surgery did not feel like a victory in the moment. I was in so much physical pain that I literally spent the days praying for relief. At night time when I would lay down to sleep that’s when pain would be at it’s peak. I resorted to one thing and one thing only, worship.
I learned to worship through the pain and literally after hours of singing and tears the pain would vanish and I would fall asleep. The pain would wake me up so I would turn the worship back on. When it was breakfast time I’d sit at the table with my grandpa (Papa Chepe) and he would say, “a little bird woke me up with a beautiful song” – he was referring to my worship. Papa and I started worshiping together during the day. This became our lifestyle for almost 3 months.
When it was time for me to return to the states I remember feeling so grateful for the precious moments that I was able to spend with my family. We were able to seek God together and it just made life that much more sweeter.
February 2013 I went back to the states and literally within 2 days there was another attack. My aunt had a miscarriage on her 21 week son. There in a hospital room the 8 of us stood holding each other and crying out to God for peace and strength. For the first time in my 24 years of life I saw my uncle break down and cry. I remember his question, “Why would God take my baby boy?” I was quiet.
All I could do was wrap my arms around him and cry with him. All I could do was be present. For the next few weeks I stayed at my uncle and aunt’s house and served them the way I had just been served in Mexico. 2ams were hard, all I could hear were my aunts sobs for her baby boy. I had to sit in God’s presence and soak up strength. I remember God telling me, “be present, be my light.”
You see in those moments it wasn’t about me dragging my aunt and uncle to church. It wasn’t about having 20 people over to tell them, “You’re baby is in a better place.”These moments were about helping clean up the house. Driving my two cousins to school. Washing laundry. Folding laundry. Putting the laundry away. Helping with homework. These moments were to bring relief to a broken heart, by being present and visible. My aunt and uncle were so grateful for my presence and it made us that much closer as a family and it was absolutely beautiful.
March 2013 I began grad-school. I was pursing a Master in Family Studies (Counseling), God had laid it heavy on my heart months before, but because of the surgery I dropped my courses and was waiting for recovery. Now that I was completely healed from surgery I began 2 courses. Multicultural counseling was one of my first courses that I will never be able to forget. I was a private tutor from 3-6pm but in the mornings and evenings I was a full-time grad school student. I would spend hours in my room studying and reading.
While I sat and inhaled my multicultural counseling textbook tears would pour out. For the first time I was reading the history of all the cultures in America and they all had one thing in common, HURT. I interceded like never before for strangers. I began to pray for the bondages that many cultures have from past generational hurts. I distinctly remember telling God, “let me be able to counsel your children with your love.”
Over the next few months as I was taking my grad-school courses God was counseling me. All the lessons that I was learning in my courses were personally for me. God was revealing the hurt in my own heart and He had to mend it before I could be used to mend other broken and hurt hearts.
August 2nd, 2013 was my 25th birthday and it was spent in Mexico with 50 family members. In the Hispanic culture we celebrate 15th birthdays for girls in a huge way. I didn’t have a quinceñera so I told God I want to celebrate my 25th in a special manner. So I told my parents and they agreed. We celebrated with a feast, cake, worship and a prayer. I remember going to bed that night thanking God for all of His blessings and for literally answering my heart’s desires. I was 25, alive, single, a grad-student, content, and thriving in God.
The following Wednesday, I was sitting in my living room typing a research paper for my Management Course. It’s was in place of a final exam. I was putting the final touches on my paper when my mom came into the living room and sat in-front of me. “Celenne, Papa is in the hospital. His sugar level dropped to 20. They took him to the hospital in time before he fell into a diabetic coma.”
After she said coma the whole room sounded like an ocean and I had just been knocked out by a fierce wave. I started crying. I pushed through my paper and submitted it. I told her I’m packing my bags and leaving Friday to Mexico. I finished my finals the next day. Packed my bags and jumped on a 32 hour bus. I spent the next month loving on my grandparents. I witnessed my grandpa blow out his birthday candles. Number 78, would be a good one for Papa.
September 2013
I started my 3rd quarter of grad-school and was more pumped than ever, I was halfway done with my degree. My grandpa’s health was great. I had now left the valley and was making my way to a mountain top. One morning I was at the dining table have breakfast when my younger sister sat in-front of me. “Celenne I have something to tell you.”
I closed my textbook and looked at her. Her face said it all. Bad news. She was pale and her eyes told me she hadn’t slept.
She proceeded. “I’m pregnant”.
I stared at her.
A frown wanted to take over my face.
She was bawling.
And all of these derogatory words and phrases were buzzing in my brain. I wanted to lash out in anger. It was all coming to me so quickly. When the Holy Spirit took over and showed me the woman caught in an adultery act and how Jesus didn’t condemn her.
He told me, “Celenne, you have no place to throw stones. Put them down. Let me speak.”
I got up and hugged her. My sister proceeded to cry and to say nonsense that were nothing but the enemy’s lies. The Holy Spirit flooded in and loved on her. He reminded her that He loved her and that He had a plan for this baby that was now growing in her womb.
God used me in that moment to speak life and love into her spirit and life. I remember after that conversation I went to my room, fell on my knees and wept bitterly. I remember asking God. How could this be? How could this happen in my family? My pride and arrogance were surfacing. I stayed in my room for hours that day. And many days after that. In fact, it was for a lot of the pregnancy. There were days where I literally felt like I was Zina’s enemy and not older sister.
There were days where I would go to God in anger for the way she was treating me.
There were days where I questioned what God was doing in that season in my life.
Then there were days when I worried for the baby’s health. All I could remember was my aunt’s miscarriage. Worry and anxiety clouded my thoughts.
One Wednesday night I was at church and I remember it was during worship and He showed me a vision. It was my sister and the baby after delivery and they were both healthy. I remember going home at 10pm and going straight to Zina’s room hugging and kissing my sleeping pregnant sister and telling her you and the baby are going to be ok. A few weeks later I had a dream that I was changing a baby girl’s diaper. I told my sister it’s a girl. My sister still had not found the gender of the baby but was set on it being a boy. A few weeks later we went to her ultrasound and saw that indeed the baby would be a girl.
December 2013
We went to Mexico as a family to let the family know about Zina’s pregnancy. She was now 4 months pregnant but we were waiting to tell our family in person. The entire family embraced her and accepted the pregnancy with love. Zina’s face changed a lot after our entire family knew she was having a baby girl. She had a lot more joy and hope than she had months before. We went into the new year excited for Ava Victoria’s arrival. Ava means “life” and Victoria means “victor, conqueror” and that’s what we were praying for. A life that was going to be victorious.
January 2014
My aunt Cony found out that the cancer that she had conquered in previous months came back in a more violent manner. My aunt was so full of joy and was certain that God would intervene like He did in the first battle. Over the course of the weeks my aunt felt worse and ended up in the hospital. A place that I would soon spend all my Sundays. The last Sunday my aunt and I exchanged words she told me, “Take my babies to church and show them who Jesus is.” I promised her that I would do that but that she was going to be healed and that she was going to continue to show them who our Savior is.
I hung on to those words. I hung on to hope. I wanted so badly for my aunt to walk out of that hospital room triumphant. The days turned into weeks which turned into a month.
February 28th, 2014 I was hired for my FIRST teaching job. I was now a 1st grade ESL teacher and had 18 kids in my classroom. If you could have seen the grin that I sported that day you would think that I had won the lottery. It felt like the days in the valley were over and I was making it to a mountain top.
April 8, 2014 my aunt went to be in the presence of God. A 17, 16, 8, and 7 year old stayed behind. After the phone call I ran to my room and fell on my knees and cried. I remember feeling nauseous and sick to my soul as I wept. I went to work the next day and I remember tears would just fall out of my eyes at random times through out the day.
I got a text message that changed shook my spirit, “Celenne cry, but cry with hope. You will see her again.” My youth pastor sent that text to me after he had cried with me on the phone during my lunch time. During that valley I learned to rely on the body of Christ for strength. During my aunt’s funeral a lot of the girls from church went for moral and spiritual support. I remember going to work and coming straight home to hug my mom and weep with her. I remember praying to God to take care of my cousins and to use me to minister to them.
The lines of communication between my cousins and I were cut. The promise between my aunt and I felt like it was going to go unfulfilled which wrecked me. After my aunt passed my dad’s dad (Papa Lico) who came to Texas just to bury his daughter ended up in the hospital himself. His large intestine stopped working. He was in need of a surgery. A surgery that we didn’t know if he would make it out of, not because it was risky, but because he was already 84 years old.
My grandpa was a stubborn man. His stubbornness stopped him from being a grandpa 18 years before. When his children started giving their lives to Christ he rebuked them. He took it out on us grand-kids by refusing to have a relationship with us. He couldn’t stand the fact that we weren’t being raised in the religion that “he inherited from his parents”. For years I just saw him as a grouchy old man. But when I went to the hospital this time, saw him on the hospital bed, I noticed he wasn’t a grouchy old man. I noticed he was a sad and lonely old man.
The next day was surgery day and my aunt, his youngest daughter as much as she was still sad and grieving from her sister’s death was now in a hospital room with her daddy.
She said she mustered up strength and boldness in Christ and proceeded to share the gospel with her dad. She told him, “dad I don’t know if you will make it out of this surgery, but I have to tell you that Jesus loves you and He can take control of this situation if you allow Him. Give your heart to Him so that you can have peace and assurance that one day we’ll all see each other in Heaven. God worked in my grandpa’s heart and he accepted Jesus as his Lord and Savior that day.
May 23rd, 2014
I graduated with my Master of Science in Family Studies. I had finally got to a mountain top. I was rejoicing. All those sleepless nights. All the studying. All the tears. All the valleys. Finally. After all the pictures, hugs, kisses, and congratulations. I looked at all my guests and noticed that my aunt and uncle (from the miscarriage in 2013) weren’t there. My aunt was pregnant again. 22 weeks, it was a boy. We were all stoked to have a baby boy making his way to the family. Hours after my graduation my aunt’s body went into delivery mode. She lost the baby.
Another baby, another hospital, same parents, same broken heart.
I remember going home and praying. During my prayer I opened my eyes and directed some words to Satan instead of God and told him to get his nasty paws off of my loved ones. I declared war and told him he pay for every tear that had been shed on both the Torres and Mendez side. Something shifted in my prayer life after that moment.
May 28th, 2014
Ava Victoria Torres was born. I fell in love with a beautiful healthy baby girl.
My niece instantly became one of my heart beats. I stayed the night at the hospital for the next 3 days. I told my body we didn’t need sleep for the next few weeks.
That’s exactly how it went to. Zina had a C-section. So I wanted to do my best to help her through the recovery by taking care of Ava during the night time.
Ava and I instantly became buds. From bottle feedings, to burps, to diaper changing, to napping, we spent many moments together. My favorite was when we would worship together, well I would sing and Ava would nap. Every-time I prayed for Ava I would do it out loud and one of those times I was holding Ava and told God, “God I pray that Ava is a worshiper and a preacher. May she bring glory to you in everything that she does in life especially when she sings.” Ava was asleep but she smiled the biggest newborn smile ever. For the first time in a long time I had tears of joy. I was on another mountain top. A mountain top that I never wanted to come down from
.
During Ava’s first months of life I literally felt like life was so sweet. I was pressing into God like never before. He was talking to me a lot during those months. It was almost as if He was preparing me for something big. Something life changing. Something that I couldn’t quite out my finger on.
I knew what I wanted it to be.
A guy.
A romantic relationship.
August 2nd, 2014
I was alive. I was 26 years old. A grad-school graduate. There was a guy. I was happy, and thriving in God.
A few days later I had a dream, it was my grandpa (Papa Chepe). He was dressed in all white and he was dancing. Which is something that my grandpa hadn’t been able to do in the past 14 years due to the arthritis he had been battling with. When I woke up I remember asking God, “does this mean that you’re going to heal him and he’s going to be able to dance again?” The words “I’m bringing your grandpa home with me.” popped into my mind and I remember thinking no, there’s no way that that’s what God said.
A few weeks passed and my grandpa started getting really really sick. He would end up in the hospital at least once a week because of chest problems and circulatory issues.
At one point the Dr. told my aunt that he was going to need both of his feet amputated.
My family went into prayer and my grandpa’s blood flow got better and the amputations weren’t needed after all. My mom and her siblings came to an agreement that they would take turns spending a whole week with their daddy so that he could get better.
My uncle went the second week of September. When he came back to Texas my mom went next. My mom said she spent a beautiful week with her daddy. They spent time reminiscing when my grandpa had first given his life to Christ and how God had been so faithful and loyal to Him throughout his entire journey in Him. During my mom’s trip I remember having another dream about my grandpa. It was my grandpa smiling from ear to ear shouting, “I found the one whom my heart loves” it was a verse from the Song of Songs. I remember waking up and thinking “what the heck, is he talking about grandma?” I didn’t quite get the dream. Then left it at that.
September 28th, 2014
Ava turned 4 months old. My mom had called and told us that grandpa was feeling better, still weak but feeling a lot better. She said, “Papa can’t wait to meet Ava during Thanksgiving.” We had recorded Ava that day laughing and we sent the video to grandpa. Although grandpa hadn’t met Ava, he was already crazy about his first great-grand daughter. He claimed that Ava had his nose. It was precious.
It was a Sunday morning. I remember waking up and getting ready for church and being so happy. I took a selfie and captioned it, “it’s a joy to wake up”.
Years prior waking up wasn’t a joy but a torture. I hated living. So now that I was in Christ and saw life through a different lens, life was truly beautiful and waking up had become such a joy.
September 29th, 2014
It was a regular Monday morning. I woke up, got ready for work. Was sitting on the couch drinking my coffee when my dad’s phone rang.
It was mom, and all I heard were sobs.
My mom was on a bus and was a few hours away from Dallas. But she had just gotten a phone call stating that Papa was gone.
Just like that.
In seconds my heart was under going the worst heart ache ever.
1. It was more painful than losing your 4 year boyfriend.
2. It was more painful than losing your 10 year best friend.
3. It was more painful than drowning in an alcohol addiction.
4. It was more painful than getting tragic news.
I had no idea what it felt like to never see your hero again.
I had no idea what it felt like to be on earth without our favorite human being.
I had no idea what it felt like to have your heart ripped out of your chest squeezed with great force.
When my dad looked at me and said, “Papa Chepe is gone.”
I froze.
I stood there.
Then I walked to my room.
It was like every valley walk.
I went to my room.
This time I shut the door. I said, No.
You can’t take him.
No.
I refuse to believe this.
No.
He isn’t gone.
I won’t cry because it isn’t true.
I went back to the house for my phone. I texted my cousin, “Is it true?”. She replied, “It’s true. He’s gone.”
I ran to my room.
I fell on my face and wept.
It was as if I had opened huge water faucets because the tears kept streaming for months. We packed our bags. Filled out SUV with 7 people and made our bitter 18 hour drive. When we arrived to my grandma’s house. All of our family ran to our car. A lot of hugs, wet cheeks, and kisses were exchanged. When I had refused to believe for a whole day was now becoming a painful reality. Within minutes I was standing in-front of my hero’s casket, and I saw his lifeless body. I remember thinking, “God, don’t let anything leave my mouth except your praises. I want to be able to praise you through this,”
That’s what the next few days became.
Praises.
Praises poured out of my mouth.
Tears poured from my eyes.
I worshiped God like never before.
Every song came from the bottom of my soul.
At the funeral I was handed the mic to speak. I looked at everyone in the church and said, “All I can do is pray.”
And out came the most beautiful prayer that has ever left my body.
I remember floating back down to my seat.
I remember thinking God take me with you both.
October 2014
A few days after getting back to Texas I went back to work and I remember hating everything and everyone.
I wanted to quit my job and lock myself in my room.
I didn’t want to see or talk to anyone.
Except for this guy.
I went on a date and we watched, “The Song”.
The movie was about: King Solomon’s life but in modern times. The verse that came to mind was Song of Songs 3:4 “I found the one my heart loves.”
While seating at the movie theater I remembered the dream I had had of my grandpa shouting, “I found the one'”
After the date I felt stupid for wanting to date this guy. So I made myself lose interest. We slowly stopped talking.
Numbness and coldness had found a new home, my heart.
I remember literally feeling ice inside of me.
That scared me.
It was a Friday night and I had to preach at the bible study that I was leading.
I remember seating in my car and weeping.
I got real with God and told Him, “I’m angry at you for what you did. You took my hero. You took the one person that has always loved me. Always cared about me.
You took him knowing that I still needed him.”
The words of Job flooded my mind. “The Lord gives and takes away, blessed be His name.”
I humbled myself before God that night. Then during bible study before I could preach I shared what had happened. I was completely vulnerable and transparent.
I had never done that before.
It was uncomfortable yet freeing.
That night was one of the most powerful nights ever during bible study.
__________________________________________________________________
I can continue.
But I’ll leave you with this.
My life since October 20, 2011 has NOT been the same.
Yes I have had mountain tops and valleys.
But both of those have one factor in common.
Jesus.
He has walked every step of the way with me. In the moments when I couldn’t walk He’d sit down with me. He’d strengthen me and then give me a hand up.
In the moments where I felt like giving up this walk, He carried me through.
It’s been more than evident.
He has promised to never leave or abandon me.
He has and will always be at my side.
Be encouraged.
“Do not lose heart.”
____________________________________________________________
I wanted to answer some questions that I’ve been asked these past 4 months,
“How did you know the world race was something you had to do?” When I originally heard about the World Race I thought to myself how cool an 11 month mission trip, but that’s NOT for me. For years I’ve known that God was calling me to leave my loved ones and to go share His gospel….but 11 months that was pretty radical. Then it took me 6 months to actually apply and then it took me 3 months to fundraise…and God provided and showed OUT!
“Aren’t you afraid of what might happen in those third world countries?” I think you read my story so far, and well no, I’m not afraid. I have seen God rescue me from death one too many times. I’m stoked to see how He uses bad/dangerous situations in His favor. Something that my teammate said, “We’re the safest in God’s will, anywhere else we’re in danger.”
“Aren’t you afraid of getting sick out there?” I didn’t even bring Malaria pills. Hehe I know I know. Don’t freak out I will buy them overseas. 🙂
“You’re okay with living in a tent?” I’m perfectly okay with living wherever God wants me.
“What about your job, what’s going to happen to it?” My former job told me my job would be there waiting for me, however I want to work wherever God leads me.
So basically my entire life is in God’s hands. 
