Hi guys! A while ago I got the idea to do a series of blog posts answering some questions from my friends! Since yesterday was our three year anniversary of living in Guatemala, I thought today would be a good time to start. Please lemme know if you have any questions that I can answer on here by just leaving a comment below this post.
“What was the first thing running through your head when your parents decided to come here to Guatemala?”
-Pancho
“We’re moving to Guatemala.” My heart dropped. No eleven year-old wants to hear that. I was shocked. Dad couldn’t be serious. But he wasn’t laughing… immediately I started crying. I sobbed while Mom and Dad explained how they had been praying about it for years. They said that we had visited Guatemala to kind of test the waters. I had enjoyed the trip to be sure; but move there? I did NOT want to do that… at all. Okay let me rewind a bit.
I had always wanted to go on a mission trip. April 2016 we had the opportunity to go on a week long trip to El Salvador and Guatemala. We were thrilled. The weeks dragged on for infinity. When we finally arrived I remember being amazed. I loved the colors and the flowers. We stayed at a hotel in El Salvador for the first few days. The hotel was really nice with beautiful paintings. After travelling for about an hour in the sweltering heat of a school bus with all the windows open, we arrived at an orphanage. I can still remember the poor conditions. It broke my heart that so many children would be living in such a state. The bathrooms were set up with standard stalls, only there were spiders and bugs, there was no toilet paper or soap. It wasn’t a pleasant bathroom experience, but it hurts to think that those children were used to it. They shouldn’t have to be. I met a little girl who was pretty upset. I couldn’t speak her language but I gave her my bracelet and smiled at her. That was a difficult experience, but if I could do it again, I would a thousand times.
About halfway through the trip we took a bus across the border from San Salvador to Guatemala City. We got in late to the house of a friend of my dad’s (they had met on past mission trips). They were really sweet to us. We all stayed in one room. The biggest difference was the temperature. It was quite a bit cooler there than in El Salvador. We walked around a mall and shopping centers and went souvenir shopping during that part of the week. We flew back to the States on our second ever airplane. We got to the airport at one a.m.
That same morning, during breakfast, Dad started reading the Bible. Specifically verses about being called to go. He also asked us how we liked Guatemala. Mom started crying. That’s when I knew something was going on. I sensed dread creeping into my stomach. I can still vividly remember the moment when Dad said the words that turned my world upside down, shook it, and threw it into the air. The pain is still very real. I was confused. Why me? Was one question that God was probably tired of hearing during the following months. I ran to my room after breakfast and just sobbed. I wanted to talk with my best friend but I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. I did get permission to tell my Sunday school teachers. I sent them an email telling them what had just happen. Writing it seemed to make it feel real. I realized that I couldn’t change anything. I asked God to help me. Even as I’m writing this, my heart is racing. Looking back, I would change a lot. Surprisingly though, that is one of the things I wouldn’t change. God has used it in so many different ways.
“We’re
moving to Guatemala.” My heart
dropped. No eleven year-old wants to
hear that. I was shocked. Dad couldn’t be serious. But he wasn’t laughing… immediately I started
crying. I sobbed while Mom and Dad
explained how they had been praying about it for years. They said that we had visited Guatemala to
kind of test the waters. I had enjoyed
the trip to be sure; but move there? I
did NOT want to do that… at all. Okay
let me rewind a bit.
I had always wanted to go on a mission
trip. April 2016 we had the opportunity
to go on a week long trip to El Salvador and Guatemala. We were thrilled. The weeks dragged on for infinity. When we finally arrived I remember being
amazed. I loved the colors and the
flowers. We stayed at a hotel in El
Salvador for the first few days. The
hotel was really nice with beautiful paintings.
After travelling for about an hour in the sweltering heat of a school
bus with all the windows open, we arrived at an orphanage. I can still remember the poor
conditions. It broke my heart that so
many children would be living in such a state.
The bathrooms were set up with standard stalls, only there were spiders
and bugs, there was no toilet paper or soap.
It wasn’t a pleasant bathroom experience, but it hurts to think that
those children were used to it. They
shouldn’t have to be. I met a little
girl who was pretty upset. I couldn’t
speak her language but I gave her my bracelet and smiled at her. That was a difficult experience, but if I
could do it again, I would a thousand times.
About halfway through the trip we took
a bus across the border from San Salvador to Guatemala City. We got in late to the house of a friend of my
dad’s (they had met on past mission trips).
They were really sweet to us. We
all stayed in one room. The biggest
difference was the temperature. It was
quite a bit cooler there than in El Salvador.
We walked around a mall and shopping centers and went souvenir shopping
during that part of the week. We flew
back to the States on our second ever airplane.
We got to the airport at one a.m.
That same morning, during breakfast,
Dad started reading the Bible.
Specifically verses about being called to go. He also asked us how we liked Guatemala. Mom started crying. That’s when I knew something was going
on. I sensed dread creeping into my
stomach. I can still vividly remember
the moment when Dad said the words that turned my world upside down, shook it,
and threw it into the air. The pain is
still very real. I was confused. Why me?
Was one question that God was probably tired of hearing during the
following months. I ran to my room after
breakfast and just sobbed. I wanted to
talk with my best friend but I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. I did get permission to tell my Sunday school
teachers. I sent them an email telling
them what had just happen. Writing it
seemed to make it feel real. I realized
that I couldn’t change anything. I asked
God to help me. Even as I’m writing
this, my heart is racing. Looking back,
I would change a lot. Surprisingly
though, that is one of the things I wouldn’t change. God has used it in so many different
ways.
