There was nothing spiritual about it. I just decided to submit an application. Then I decided to show up to meetings. Then I decided to get on an airplane.
God knew what He was doing.
And that’s how I ended up in Guatemala the first time—a trip of too many children on one seesaw and hours upon hours of orange paint.
It was belly-aching laughter, spontaneous photo shoots, and bartering with Pop Tarts.
Insufficient Spanish. Armless Barbies. Earthquakes. And regular reality checks: “I am in Guatemala.”
It was the first time I turned green. The first passport stamp. The first experience of how the rest of the world lives.
It broke my heart—for the things that break His.
And it gave me hope—that good things are being done in the world.
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