I don’t understand how we got here. I was so certain walking into that court room, that he’d come home with us. His case was cut and dry, black and white, so painfully clear what should (or should not) happen… I simply cannot fathom it. The scars covering his small frame obviously showed that he… Continue reading Oh, My Precious Elias.
When I first came to Guatemala, Fermina and I’s relationship was stoic, cordial at best. There were two main factors involved in the stiff nature of our relationship: We didn’t speak each other’s language. I could stammer out what I needed (most of the time) but that was it. Neither of us could communicate our… Continue reading A Year of Pursuit
“Palms Up.” It’s a popular phrase in Christian culture, more specifically in Christian millennial lingo. Usually it’s woven into conversations centered around anxiety and varying stressors, calling the anxious one to surrender to Jesus that which has been held on to ever so tightly with controlling hands. I’ve found myself with pretty tight fists as… Continue reading Swimming with Dumb Bells
Intimacy. We all crave it. We want to be known deeply. We want the safety of knowing we will be loved in our most vulnerable state, with all of our rough edges, ugliness, and imperfections. This vulnerability is also the most terrifying part of loving and being loved well. Intimacy demands vulnerability and courage to… Continue reading Cough Drops and Kisses
“Te quiero. Y no hay nada que puedes hacer o decir para ganar o perder mi amor para ti. Te quiero porque eres tú. Voy a quererte para siempre.” Translation: I love you. And there is nothing that you can do or say to win or lose my love for you. I love you because you… Continue reading I will Always Love You
I’ve been back in Guatemala for about three weeks now, and I can truly say this time it felt like coming home. That’s a tad scary to admit, as it makes me wonder how long this will be home for me… but nonetheless home it is. This post is a little unusual, as it isn’t… Continue reading His Grace is Sufficient for Me
Yesterday I struggled with whether or not I could celebrate Mother’s Day for myself. I’ve never given birth, or woken up with a teething baby in the middle of the night. I’ve never stood in the rain during a tee-ball tournament, and I’ve never dished out $50 to an entitled teenager for gas money. Moms… Continue reading Happy Mother’s Day?