I’m sorry I seem to expect the stars out of you, when six months ago I would have felt the constellations forming my name with just your fingers wrapped around mine…



We so often hopelessly go through life, as if it is something worth mourning. Our thought process is hooked on the thought of the future holding all of our happiness, when in reality, the future is now.We don’t know how long this flimsy world will last and realization hasn’t yet set in that the world can not and will not provide happiness. Our memories are what we need to cling to. The bitter-sweet ones, the good ones, and the ones that may even upset us. But we need to patiently wait for the right places to form those memories in, so we can shape our lives into something beautiful. We waste this life on a train, looking only directly out the window at what we can see and longing to be there; when in reality, the view on the other side of the train is where the conductor wants us to go.He’s leading us to it, trying to take us out of the door on the side where a much more lovely place is alive and waiting for us. It’s so stunning, but we are afraid to move. We’re afraid to get out of our seats, out of fear of falling. But if only we knew the enchanting places we would stumble upon, if only we took the risk. So instead, we remain in misery, waiting to go out into a place that isn’t quite as wonderful as it seems. Take the challenge to get out of your seat and walk along the narrow path that leads to the door containing the things that we dream of, but haven’t turned into reality, out of fear of those steps. It doesn’t matter if your knees are shaking or if you stumble along the way. The stares of those people may start a revolution. Just go. Run and don’t stop.The train will be waiting, but you just have to trust it.



“Okay, after this video, I am going to ask you an important question. Has God called you to be a full-time missionary?”
One of the leaders of my mission team said on the last night in a small, beautiful country that was promising huge and terrifying commitments.

It was our goodbye ceremony, setting an end to the wonderful 8 days that we had been given to grow with our team and in our faith. I heard that question I had been debating and praying over for so long.
But the question wasn’t mine to answer.
It was God’s choice. His calling. I asked Him what I had to do. In February I felt called to part-time, but full-time? That was a question God hadn’t quite answered. I told Him to lead me to the row of chairs lined up in front of everyone, only if I was supposed to. “This is a serious commitment,” I thought. “And I only want to answer if the call is for me.”

My heart was conflicted and I sat in my seat during the four minute long video and I gave myself excuses as of why I shouldn’t go up and do this. Excuses like your family won’t approve, or maybe you’re just in the midst of excitement from this week, and of course I was asking God if He was sure about using me.

Then, the leader asked again when the video ended.
“Are you called?”

God indeed led me, or you could say carried. I felt like He was lifting me up and guiding me to that seat as soon as the words came out of the man’s mouth.

I. Was. Terrified.

Then one of my excuses took a seat in the chair right next to me. Two other kids my age accompanied me in the row of chairs lined up before everyone else, which gave me a bit of comfort, and so did two other adults that had taken care of me during the time there.

I broke down before God. Not before the people staring at me, but before the King holding me. At first, I was stunned at what just happened, tears spilling out, no matter how collected I tried to appear. But then I broke and love started pouring, unceasingly.

I kept thinking of when Jesus sacrificed Himself for me and how this is my crucifixion for Him and how He must’ve felt. Terrified. He must`ve had a point in His life where He looked up and asked God, “Me? Are You sure?”. It was a sacrifice that was actually frightening for me to make, because I knew what I had committed to and a glimpse of what God was wanting to do in my life.

That moment was like when I found salvation.
God picked me up and led me before people to commit myself to Him.
Then, He showed me what He did and wanted to give me.
This time, it was about what I could give to Him.

They prayed with us and a girl in her twenties prayed with me. She only spoke Spanish, but I felt so connected to her through the Holy Spirit, even though I had never spoken a word to her. It got to the point where her shirt was my own personal tissue. In the moment, I couldn’t possibly have cared, though, because everything was tuned out, besides God.

They called everyone up and put the El Salvador flag on our shoulders, then started washing our feet. When they placed the flag over our shoulders, the man said “El Salvador means ‘My Savior’, so we’re sending you out in good hands.” It was the same girl that prayed with me that washed my feet, and I started to think “Really God? I just committed to serving You, yet You get someone to serve me? It doesn’t fit. I should be serving You.”
But then I realized this: God wants me to humble myself before Him and He definitely showed me that on this trip. Like the moment I got baptized in the Holy Spirit. In a sacred prayer tower that was constantly being prayed in, even during something like a volcanic eruption (yes, it happened), they asked id anyone had never experienced it before. I had been praying about it for months and wondered why it had never happened to me. When they asked, I got prideful and a bit humiliated. But I had to go up. God led me up there through ways I would’ve never expected.

God just wanted me to humble myself and to quit acting like I had it all figured out, when I didn’t. Again, I debated going up, but after I obeyed, God filled me with His Spirit. God showed me that I need to humble myself before Him and if He calls me to move, then I need to do so with eagerness.

Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up. (James 4:10 NIV)

Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me. (John 12:26 NIV)