Grandpa.

Much of my family is gathering today to remember and celebrate the life of my grandpa. We cry because we miss him. But we rejoice so deeply because we know that he knew Jesus, and we hold firm to the promise that he is with his Savior today. I was unable to make it out to Phoenix for the service, so I will remember him here. Sorry if memories are fuzzy. Most stem from Christmases at their house where all of us grandkids ran around for days and didn't pay attention much to what was going on around us.

1) He loved to fish. When we were little he had a fishing boat out back with the truck. One time when they came to visit us he went charter fishing, and caught more than the others combined.
2) He owned a lot of hats. My brothers must have inherited this from him.
3) He had a shed filled with treasures. And junk. But as a kid it all looked like treasures.
4) Somehow he was always able to find, in that shed filled with treasures and junk, the pin for the air pump so we could take the tandem out and attempt to pump up soccer balls.
5) When we were little, he'd go through his shed and find treasures to do a Yankee Swap/White Elephant thing for the grandkids on Christmas Eve. Once I started out with a shelf he'd made, and ended up with a YoYo. Never knew what he'd find out there for us.
6) He loved sports of all kinds. That's all we ever watched at their house it seems.
7) He would, however, relinquish the remote to watch Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune each night for Grandma's sake.
8) I'm told he was an extraordinary coach, and I always pointed out his plaque at Greenville in the hall of fame to my friends.
9) He created a state championship football team out of virtually nothing, and after borrowing jerseys from a much larger, rival school proceeded to lead his team to a huge win over the same school. He was coach and bus driver and mentor to many, many students.
10) He loved being a pilot.
11) I'm told he once buzzed Scott Field in his plane, just as chapel was letting out.
12) He once owned a Dairy Queen.
13) He would always greet us with a big hug and a loud "hi there!"
14) He was in North Africa, Italy and Cuba during his navy years. He had fantastic stories from all of those places, which he always told us after meals.
15) His hearing aids squealed often, causing us to giggle because he never seemed to notice or mind. Or maybe he just ignored them...
16) He loved good Mexican food. And biscuits and gravy.
17) He drank barley greens in his apple juice every morning.
18) He loved singing hymns.
19) He had a giant magnifying glass attached to the table next to his chair for reading the newspaper and his Bible.
20) He was recognized in the navy for his laundry talents, learned from his family's business during the Depression years.
21) He was a thrift store hunter extraordinaire.
22) He was not afraid of sharing his testimony of God's hand and guidance in his life. He loved his Savior and he shared openly on how God saved him time and time again. As he would tell us his stories he would always say something like "God had something better for me." or "God wasn't through with me yet." We've heard from countless former students, players, and friends how Grandpa would speak this same love and truth into their lives, and how they were changed by the godly life he modeled daily.

Grandpa will be missed, yes. But we rest in the promise of heaven. We rest in knowing that he knew and loved the Savior. We praise the Savior for dying to make eternity possible. We pray we can live out the same godly life he modeled to each one of us. I'm proud to have known this incredible man.

Where are you from?

For once, the question caught me off guard. It shouldn't have...I'd always had an answer ready before.

Perhaps it was the plurality of the question. Rach and I were camping, and our combined transient states led to some confusion when asked multiple times where are you guys from? Welllll......we'd always have to start with some thought, a slight laugh, and a look thrown at each other. We know each other from school just east of St. Louis. But she's from Central Illinois. And living in Florida. And I'm living in Wisconsin. And we're camping in Southern Missouri. See? It gets tricky.

But it wasn't just the question's plurality that got me thinking. For the past four years I had answers ready to go when asked where are you from? At school I could say "I'm from Northeastern Wisconsin." Few know Door County, and even fewer know Ellison Bay. No one knows Gills Rock. Northeastern Wisconsin is usually a safe bet. Sometimes I could even throw in a "Northern Illinois, originally. Right on the border," if it meant making a connection with someone. During the summers I could respond "I'm from here. My parents live up on the northern end, but I'm going to school in Southern Illinois. Just east of St. Louis." Few know Greenville. Most know St. Louis. Some guess Carbondale, but I wasn't quite that far south. Had Rach and I been asked together while attending Greenville, we could have responded (and probably did) "I'm from Northeastern Wisconsin, she's from Normal, Illinois. We go to Greenville together." And that would have been a perfectly acceptable response. In Guatemala I even had a response ready to go. "Soy del norte de los Estados." I'm from the northern part of the States. No one knew any specific states. Except for maybe New York. Close enough, right?

But now all of a sudden I'm in transition. I can no longer claim Greenville as home. I don't know how long I will be calling Door County home. And I don't know where I'll be next. What will my answer be then?

When I was in Guatemala, my dear roommate and I would spend countless hours in El Parque Central in Antigua, people watching, and chatting with whatever locals would come to try and sell us their wares. It made for some of my favorite memories of the whole 4 months. We met some incredible people. One day we met an older, Guatemalan man named Sergio. He sat down on the bench next to us as we listened to a different old man play us songs from something that looked like an accordion (he's a story for a different day.). Nicely dressed, with a cute straw fedora, Sergio struck up a conversation with us first in Spanish, but then quickly in flawless English. We asked him where he was from, as conversations with strangers usually go. Soy de aquí, pero he vivido...pues...Soy del mundo. I'm from here, but I've lived...well...I'm from the world. 

Soy del mundo. I loved this answer. He had lived and was living in Guatemala where he was born, he lived in the US teaching at a university out east, he'd been to Europe, he'd slept in Tikal listening to howler monkeys in the jungle... Point is, the man was from everywhere. And to me that is beautiful. I claim where I'm living as home, where my parents are living as where I'm from. But I, like Sergio, want to be a citizen of the world. I want to travel, not as a tourist, but rather as one actively involved in whatever community I land in. I want to experience new people and see their lives through their eyes. I want to see diverse communities develop and flourish as they see necessary. I want to have root places to go home to, but my home is wherever I go next. Home is the life you make wherever you are. I want to experience the world. Not just one little piece of it. There are places I will always return to. Beds I'll always be back to sleep in. But I hope and dream to be able to say Soy del mundo. I'm from the world.

camping on the Missouri River

The End of the World as [I] Know it

Graduation day.

I've started this end of the year commemorative post multiple times, and have either gotten too busy studying (don't have that one anymore), or have desperately needed sleep (already up), or have just not been able to get words on the page (we'll just go with it). I've got a few minutes now, so this will probably be written in multiple sittings, but here goes.

First of all, how in the world is it time for me to graduate college? Surely I'm still that little freshman scared out of my mind with four long years ahead of me? Nope. Those four years flew by, and now I'm sitting here dressed and ready to walk and get my diploma. Ok my diploma folder, because they don't send out the actual ones till June. But still, it's an important day.

I thought about writing this post a lot of ways. I thought about making one huge list of memories. Of soccer trips, and class field trips, of roomie nights, and late night pranks, of walks and friendships and meals and stories. But let's be honest...four years of memories, I'd be here all day and then some, and I've got bigger things to do. So do you, I'd imagine.

I thought about writing about how I've grown into that weird senior. You know, when you're a freshman and you're sitting in some gen ed class, and there's still that senior who has to get their last credits in sitting there too? And they're just kind of...odd? Because they participate in class discussions, and bring coffee and tea in non-travel mugs, and they seem to enjoy writing 4-6 page essays, and they discuss topics from other classes because they can see how it all connects. And as a freshman you think, "I'll never be that person." Because they just seem weird to scared little freshman babies. But then you look at your life as a senior, and you've totally become that senior you always wondered about as a freshman.

None of those ways seemed like the perfect one to wrap up these four years. And so, in (I will note that it has now been several hours since starting this, and I'm...wait for it...officially a college grad!) attempts to put a neat little bow on four amazing years, I will just say this.

I do not come out of Greenville the same person I entered in. And this is truly remarkable. I've never realized how little I knew of myself before, and if there's one thing that I have learned in four years, it's who I am. Not because I was lost before. But rather, because I think Greenville has allowed me to become myself. I didn't know what I was going to major in, I didn't know where my college years would take me, I didn't know what I believed, and I honestly didn't know myself. But I have come to find who Rachel Stewart is. At least a little piece anyways. Life is a journey, and as a studier of other cultures, I know that my journey (in a very literal sense) is far from over. On this journey, I will continue to learn and discover who I am, and what my place is in this world.

I have grown at Greenville in so many ways. The professors I have had over the last four years spoke love and truth into my life on a daily basis, and from them I have learned, and been stretched, and been confronted, and been loved on, and been blessed. I say I didn't know who I was before Greenville, and my professors, whether they know this or not, have helped in that self-actualization. It seems odd. To need others to find yourself, but that is what Greenville has done. My professors have presented me with more knowledge than I could ever hope to remember, on a wide variety of subjects. But beyond learning terms and names and dates and paradigms of thought, I've learned how to think. I've become more aware of what exactly I believe. I've learned to look at the world not just through the lens of truth I've been told my whole life, but I've learned to find truth on my own. I have been taught about things the history text books leave out, and have been taught skills to know what to do when confronted with unpleasant realities. I have learned how to express myself coherently, even if I don't actually know what I'm talking about. ;) I have learned to not accept something as fact simply because it is presented as such, but to explore this world and find the truth within. I have been witness to models of Christian life, but from a variety of backgrounds, and have come to know that it takes all kinds to make anything work. Yes, I am grateful for the love and truth and wisdom my profs spoke into my life every day I spent at Greenville. I am grateful that they cared about more than just Rachel as a student, but cared deeply about Rachel as a person.

I have made deep, wonderful friendships at Greenville, more than I could ever name. I think that's what I'm most sad about in leaving, saying bye to all these wonderful people, friends and profs alike. I am truly grateful for each and every one of you. God bless, Class of 2013. Best of luck.

I close (being that weird senior one last time) and leave you with a quote from a book read in a class this last semester.
"I know that my achievement is quite ordinary. I am not the only [woman] to seek [her] fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have travelled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination." (Jhumpa Lahiri, The Third and Final Continent)

I have not done anything so very extraordinary in four years at a small school in Southern Illinois, but to me I am amazed by all I have done, everywhere I have been, every person I have met, and all I have come to know. Thank you for the memories, Greenville. I leave blessed.

Spring Break

The weeks leading up to Spring Break were incredibly busy, and the week after was no different. It was wonderful to have a chance to breathe and hang out with friends and lie on the beach and not worry about life for a few days. Of course now after another week filled with more than can possibly ever get done, I'm more than ready for another break, which, thankfully, we get a small one this weekend for Easter! But anyways, Spring Break!

I drove down to Sarasota, Florida with two friends to visit our friend Rachie, who moved down there after graduating this past May. The long drive was more than worth it to spend time with friends, lie on the beach, camp and fend off raccoons, visit my cousin, hike and play outside, and eat so many yummy things. Enjoy a few pictures!

finally made it to the sunshine state!

first day at the beach, first time in the Gulf of Mexico!

beach camping

soaking up the sun!

visiting with  my lovely cousin, Mary!

first time line dancing!

celebrating 22 in the sunshine!

finding creatures on the beach

loving life.

Well, back to the grind now.

A memory: Holy Thursday

It's Holy Thursday. Also known as Party Town, Antigua Guatemala. Or maybe "The Savior's dying for us! Let's celebrate by getting trashed and staying up all night!" My friends and I aren't getting trashed. But we are going to stay out all night. Because that's what they tell us you do. Alfombra work is well underway all over the city. Families and friends meticulously spreading flowers, sand, sawdust, and even chocolate (Oh Fernando's Kafe, how I miss you!) into intricate carpets covering the ground in front of their homes or businesses. We walk, we take lots of pictures. Somewhere in the city the processions are moving to somber music. Men dressed in purple robes swaying back and forth carrying the heavy onda. Depictions of Jesus' last days being carried through the streets. We giggle as we pass the robed teens as they "comen boca" after their time in the procession. Can you do that? Can you chchchchtt at me dressed in a robe you wear to pay penitence?

We eat and get coffee at Cafe Contessa. Coffee and cheese cake at roughly 2am. Perfect! We check on Alison. Pobrecita. We probably should have gone to the doctor...Spend some time in the office before heading out again. We walk. A lot. Always more alfombras to take pictures of. People hurry to make them perfect before the processions come and pass over them. Ruining them, but then so will the dump truck that immediately follows behind each onda with Jesus on top to scoop up what's left. One alfombra is lit with candles. Do they blow them out before the men walk over? We don't stay to find out. The smell of incense hangs thick.

4 am. Beth and I have cracked. Everything's funny. And funnier still. The rest of our small party thinks we're crazy. They don't get the joke. We look like we fit in with everyone else, but we're not drunk...We make it till morning. Decide to stay longer and find the procession. Bed is calling, and we're looking rough! But sure. We find it way far away, but everything's far when you've been walking the city all night. It was a good procession to see. Don Carlos' voice in my head as I watch it pass, "mira en su expresión. Llena con la emoción. Es muy, muy precioso." I don't know how many times we heard that something was muy, muy precioso. Look in his face. How it's filled with emotion. It's beautiful, precious.  "Puedes sentir su dolor para nuestros pecados." You can feel his pain for our sins. I can see it, what he's talking about. But I don't get it. The processions, the alfombras, the robes...it's a lot, you know? And a lot of you are drunk. Does that help you connect with His pain? We're all out here having a grand old time. Hey! This procession has horses and men and armor. It's cool to watch, but what are you really celebrating? Your savior, like this?

 We disperse. Fall into bed and pass out. Holy Thursday, Antigua. Check that one off the list.

Teaching Chinese

Let me rephrase. I'm teaching English. To the Chinese. Or rather, to some Chinese. More specifically, to a small group of Chinese students who are at Greenville for the purpose of learning English. So I'm teaching English...not Chinese. I don't know Chinese. I know that the word for "hello" sounds like knee how, "I love you" waEHknee, and "class is done" sounds like shaKU. That's the extent of my knowledge, and I have no clue how to form any of the characters for those few words. But I know English, and I know that you put the stress on the first syllable of the word English, and I'm told this will help my students as they take English Pronunciation Level 3. We're just over the halfway point of their 7 week course, and I'm doing my best to impart my knowledge of pronouncing English, and becoming ever more grateful that I didn't have to learn English as a second language.

I know what you're thinking. Rachel's in a classroom again. She is surely going to teach after Greenville. But I'm not. Well, I don't know what I'm going to do, but I still don't plan on teaching. The thought of having to make lesson plans and use them every day makes me want to...I was going to say shoot myself, but that's perhaps over dramatic. All that to say, I don't want to teach. And I don't think I will be in a classroom after graduation.

I don't like it. I don't like standing up in front of students reading from a textbook. I don't like lesson planning. I don't like thinking, "Will this make sense to them?... Does this make sense to me?" I don't like taking phones away because my students aren't paying attention. I don't like having to wake kids up in my class when they clearly don't care about what we're learning. I don't like being told, "This isn't important." I don't like repeating lessons over and over. I don't like playing teacher to kids just a few years younger than I am. I don't like when I can't understand their English, and try to make them repeat things too many times. I don't like the blank stares when they don't understand.

This isn't to say that it's all bad. I like getting paychecks! And I get paid to teach two hours every day, which doesn't seem like a lot, but ask any unemployed, full time college student and they will tell you that it is, in fact, a lot. Somedays I like that I have to play dress-up to go teach. No sweats for Rach this semester! Shocking, I know. I like when my students correctly guess how to pronounce or define a word I didn't think they would know. I like when they take an interest in my Spanish speaking abilities. I like when we have game days and we share words in different languages back and forth. I like when we play telephone with minimal pair words, and they are laughing too hard to talk, because they know they aren't pronouncing the word right, but don't know how to change it. I like when we talk about alien movies and conspiracy theories. And when they tell me how big badminton is in China. I like when they do their readings and I can hear them trying to use the language like we've showed them. I like when they call me professor because they can't remember my name (I am hardly a professor!). I like the days when they're alert and attentive and they get it.

Yes, I like when they get it. Then I don't mind teaching so much. Some days...

Pre-Greenville happenings

Back in Greenville for my last semester! Crazy!! Classes are a week into full swing, and are definitely keeping me busy. But before I came back to Greenville I:

Visited Samantha and watched the Badgers play! (dang free throws!)

And then I visited my dear friend Em Rose who I haven't seen since she graduated in May! I'm so excited that she's back to living in the midwest. :) I do dearly love this girl.

And THEN I went to St. Louis with Kayla to celebrate my dear friend Kimmy's birthday. Sorry, no picture of this one, but know that it was loads of fun as we ran around Sports Fusion acting like the over-grown children that we really are. :) Blessed with wonderfully, silly friends.

And now I'm back in school, doing classes, and...teaching! ESL classes to Chinese students. But more on that on another day. I need to get to doing some homework so I can have fun tomorrow during the Super Bowl. Guac will be made and enjoyed.

Looking Back: 2012

2012 was a big year for me. Here are some (a few of many!) highlights.

In 2012 I...

-spent 4 months in Guatemala! I say it was a highlight of the year, and it definitely was, but it is something I will remember for the rest of my life. I learned so much during this time, and am so grateful for the time I spent there.

-made new friends

-watched the Beautiful game. Once live, and many times on tv with Don Carlos.

-taught English to a bunch of elementary school kids and stepped way outside of my comfort zone. But God is good, and I grew to love it...and them!

-got my 2nd Star Wars filming location shot by visiting Tikal, by far one of the coolest places I've seen in any of my travels.

-drank lots of coffee, here and abroad

-turned 21! Definitely won't be forgetting this birthday anytime soon. And definitely not celebrated in your typical 21st fashion.

-experienced Holy Week, Guatemala style

-learned how to barter

-came back to school and made so many new friends!

-finished out my competitive soccer career, and beat Prin!

-got a puppy (ok my parents did, but close enough...right?)

-spent time with family 

-became a barista

-staffed a week at camp

-cheered on my girls to a 1st time victory over Principia College

-watched many movies

-got a car

-studied too much ;)

-finished COR 401!

-became a 2nd semester senior

-conquered my toughest semester yet

-laughed, lived, and loved much

here's to 2013 and all it may bring!

In the midst of tragedy.

We can never hope to make sense of the tragedies that have occurred in this world and during this holiday time. This is not an issue of too much or too little legislation, of not enough security, or of unprepared teachers. We live in an evil, and fallen world. Outside of the gospel of Christ there is no hope, there is no good to be found in the senseless killings of precious little ones. But Christ has come, yes, the very reason we celebrate this time of year, to bring restoration. He is the light in this dark world. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul. When there is nothing left to hold on to, there is Him. And we do hold on to Him now. And we pray for His peace during this time.

tears are falling, hearts are breaking

how we need to hear from God.

you've been promised, we've been waiting

welcome Holy Child,

welcome Holy Child.

hope that you don't mind our manger,

how I wish we would have known.

But long awaited Holy Stranger,

make yourself at home.

Please make yourself at home.

Bring your peace into our violence.

Bid our hungry souls be filled.

Word now breaking heaven's silence,

welcome to our world.

Welcome to our world.

fragile finger sent to heal us,

tender brow prepared for thorn,

tiny heart whose blood will save us,

unto us is born,

unto us is born.

So wrap our injured flesh around you,

breathe our air and walk our sod.

Rob our sin and make us holy, 

perfect Son of God

perfect Son of God.

Welcome to our world.

Soccer's Close

My competitive soccer career has come to an end, after nearly 17 years (what in the world?!). Hard to believe. I feel like I've always...correction.... I have always had soccer in my life! Not that it's left completely now, I just probably won't play competitively again. It's been a good ride, and I'm so blessed by all the teammates, coaches, parents and fans who have been a part of that for me. I'm especially thankful for all the friendships I've made through soccer over the last four years. After high school, I didn't plan on playing soccer, and I'm grateful for Greenville giving me the chance to play for a few more years. Soccer's helped me to grow, and the past four years on this team have helped me solidify who I am on and off the field. I've had some time to process the fact that it's done now, and have made a (in no way complete) list of some favorite memories...which may or may not make sense to any of you...
1) Beating Prin. Hands down the best win of my life. Nothing will come close to that again.
2) Pranking the coaches. (I mean, not that I would do anything like that...)
3) Mac's room not getting cleaned after the previous people stayed there. Bachelorette party...that's all I'll say.
4) Annie verbally abusing the ball boy.
5) Zipping Em's coat: Issues.
6) Jenny whipping off her shirt SO fast when Zig was about to pass out so they could put water on it and put it around Zig's neck.
7) Playing soccer volleyball instead of practice one day.
8) Handball instead of practice another.
9) Kim-Kim and I making weird noises during indoor that no one else ever noticed.
10) Mac announcing at half time that his wife was pregnant
11) Music with Bee and Jon
12) Mark's song in Texas
13) Getting to travel with my cousin my freshman year
14) T straight picking up Tom when he got injured
15) Red coaching me during our very first game. While she played next to me.
16) Flat tires
17) Playing the freeze game to trick the coaches
18) Andy and Jon being attached for partners kickball
19) Dance parties
20) Mac putting in March of the Penguins on the way to Chicago...what?? haha!
21) The River Walk
22) Wobbling at every gas station
23) Chili cook-off
24) Snipers
25) When Jon told the ref he was on a power trip and got a card
26) Abby telling me to "say a prayer, preach" when some girl took me out
27) Mindy helping me through my first 120s
28) Senior Song
29) Singing for Bible Study
30) Singing "Love the way you lie" at devo time
31) Unlimited Budgets...oh wait.
32) Chicago trips
33) Spiders in your shin guard!
34) New friendships
35) Becoming family
36) Making fun of Ohio State because it ticked Mac off
37) Wiggle face game
38) Freak Show Fridays
39) Scavenger Hunts
40) My girls. Every year.

And so many more.

A memory.

Alison and I are sitting at the dinner table with Don Elario y Doña Dolores, Rosaldo y Noel. It's our last week with this precious family. Last dinner we would eat with them, I think. Doña Dolores (loving, wonderful woman that she is) gives us each a parting gift. A cute little bag with a Quetzal embroidered onto the bright colored fabric. It's their national bird, the Quetzal. National everything it seems. They're proud of this green bird with the long, bright tail. Proud of their small home. Proud of their family. We talk about the Quetzal. About where he lives and how quiet you have to be to even hope to see him. Don Elario makes his little humming noise as he talks, his hands moving to further describe whatever scene he's spinning for us. They ask if we have national symbols. Always equally curious about our culture as we are of theirs. A national bird? Do you have one? Yes! Something to share. It's an eagle. A...how do you say bald? We try to describe it. It has white...what's the word for feathers again? We look at each other helplessly. Black. The body is black. And his head is white. So he looks...pelón! Doña Dolores understands what we're trying to say. It isn't really bald, just looks like it. And she laughs. What a precious laugh that woman had. She covers her face and she laughs. And mutters pelón under her breath. And we laugh. Because her laugh is infectious. And she has the giggles because of the bird that looks bald and is our national bird. She stops for a moment, and then it comes back and we hear pelón again with that delightful laughter. Don Elario laughs too. And we laugh. And Rosaldo plays with Noel and she laughs. And we're a family, of unusual sorts, sitting around a small table in a small house in Guatemala. And we're leaving soon. But we laugh with this family, because that's what they've become. And we hope one day we'll be able to come back and talk about birds with bald heads so we can laugh with them some more.

What I learned, Final Edition

It's been awhile. Sorry about that. Just been trying to process everything that went on. I don't know that I ever fully will...Here's what I shared in church on Sunday (find the earlier segments of Things I Learned here, here, and here.).

What I learned, Final Edition

I learned Spanish! I was fully submersed and received one-on-one training giving me some of the best Spanish lessons I have had in eight years of studying.

I learned the climb can be brutal, and the journey tough, but the view from the top is always worth it.

I learned Guatemalan history from a Guatemalan perspective, both recent and from many, many years ago. I saw this history come to life as I stood in front of Tikal for my second Star Wars filming location shot.

I learned to listen to people's stories. I learned about Juliana and Rosaldo who make their living selling trinkets in the park. I learned about Sergio whose son is head of the Obama campaign and who assured my roommate and I that we were proof that our generation could be more than what we've settled for. I met Alfondo who is about 70 and plays the accordian in the park simply because he loves to make music and make people happy. I learned about Dolores, Beatriz, Elario, and Nellie and I learned about their lives, how we're different, but more often how we're the same.

I learned how to love, even when it's hard, or you don't speak the language well, or when you have to tell Alejandro for the 5th time to stop eating his colored pencil box. Every child, every grown-up too wants to be loved. Even when I'm at my worst, God helps us love.

I learned that smiles are beautiful, but sometimes as you're learning to love and learning people's stories, you find hurt beneath smiles. You find broken hearts, homes, and relationships. And it becomes hard to love the mom who abandoned four sweet smiles. But through it all the smiles stay and you remember the importance of showing love to every smile.

I learned God is bigger than our cultural differences. I don't speak perfect Spanish, but I can read out of my Bible in front of an all Spanish speaking church, because He is bigger than my inadequacies. I can sit with a host family who doesn't know me from any other gringo and have wonderful discussions about God because he's the same for me and for them. I can attend a Baptismal Service and feel completely at home because we serve the same God. And we know that He is bigger than our language barriers, our differences and our separate lives. He is big. And He is good.

I learned the importance the Latin American Catholic Church places on Christ on the cross. And this is good. It's important to celebrate this. But far more important is the Risen Lamb. For without the resurrection, He's just another man.

I learned to listen. Everyone has a story to tell. And all every child wants is someone to tell those stories to. Even when they're speaking too fast for any native speaker to understand, and when when you've already asked for clarification 4 times, they still want to be held and listened to. So when Roxi plops in your lap and says, "let's gossip" and starts to tell you about her new pet turtle, you listen. And you show her she's important and valued.

And finally, I learned I am capable of far more than I thought. Or rather, God is capable of doing things far greater than I ever could have imagined. Like taking a girl who does not want to teach* and showing her that not only is she capable of teaching, but that He will give her strength she didn't know she had and make teaching be one of the best experiences of her life. He's bigger than my doubts, bigger than my fears, bigger than my plans, and bigger than my inadequacies. And He is far bigger than the box I try to put Him in. He is big. And so, so good. He is at work in this world.

*side note. Still don't feel that I'm being called to be a teacher. Just for further clarification.