Welcome Back to Real Life.

Well hello old friends, I know it has been a while. However, life has still been bursting with growth and change. Memories from my past adventures still remain at the forefront of my mind and Jesus still continues to burden my heart for His kingdom.

So you’re probably wondering what happened to me after I came home from the World Race. Well I did just that I came home. Nothing special happened. No confetti was thrown. I wasn’t all of a sudden fired up to radically change the things around me. If anything, I was tired, exhausted even. I absolutely was a changed person, and I had to figure out how to fit my new self into an old mold, one that I had clearly outgrown. It has not been easy to settle into life here stateside, however, I knew that for a season the Lord was asking me to do just that, settle. Previous to leaving, I hadn’t had a time of rest in years. I was always constantly going. From taking care of my mother when she was sick to pursuing to 2 degrees to Zambia and then to the Race. I had not yet learned what it meant to rest. After three months of physical sleep (quite literally), the Lord allowed me to step into a very simple job at a grocery store. Simply put, my mind didn’t have to constantly work. I could just be. I handed out balloons to excited little kids, learned how to efficiently bag groceries, and how to work a trash compactor.

Looking back at that season, I can tell you I am so incredibly thankful for it. I met some pretty cool people working there, and learned new things about faith, people, and productivity. I could probably write a blog series entitled “ Real World: Life Lessons from Central Market.”

So where I am now?

I feel the time of rest the Lord has place on me is starting to draw to a close. It’s been 2 years since the Race, and the excitement I once had about laboring towards the kingdom is being rekindled.

While on the last leg of my race, I served in Southeast Asia. And in my time there, the Lord revealed something new to me. In so many other cultures, He is already present. Restoring. Bringing Hope. Lighting the path that leads towards His son.

But in some cultures, this is simply not the case. They reject him, and choose to stay in darkness. But He will not give up on them. He will battle for them, and He will continue till the end to send in sons and daughters that will find those who are open to Him. Those who will work from the beginning of the harvest to the very end. Laborers that are strong of back, and don’t mind the toughness of the soil or dripping sweat on their brows. Those who know that every people group deserve the chance to be represented on the streets of Heaven.

So it is with this burden in mind, that I go back to Southeast Asia this summer for 2 weeks. I will be stepping alongside the Lord to dream about what life could look like here for the Kingdom in the future. This is just a small step along the road of my desire to serve the Kingdom on some grander scale.

If you would like to support me in this venture, please CLICK HERE. It will lead you to team.org, the organization that I am now employed for and going under. Under ‘select a missionary’ type C, 011858 and choose the amount that you wish to give. This gift is tax deductible, and will be designated for my trip.

Thank you for your support and please stay tuned to this blog for more updates as I prepare, go and return. I promise I will keep them interesting so subscribe! It will be worth your time.



Every Racer wishes for a day like that day. A day where everything you do for the kingdom makes sense. As most of you might know, my life chapter is Isaiah 61. The first time it was read to me, it was almost like the Lord was whispering it into my ear. Ever since then it has been a scripture that has encouraged and focused me.

In Zambia (month 6 or June), there was a week when our group did door-to-door evangelism in a small village named Libuyu. We split up into groups of three or four, paired up with a translator and set out into the sunrise to pray and minister to the people of Libuyu. I saw some incredible things that morning. I even saw a lady get healed, but however cool that moment was, that was not the moment that has stayed with me 4 months later.

Towards the end of the morning, my team and I came up to a house where a teenage girl was sitting outside on the pouch. She looked sad.

“I think that we should go to this house” Sims, our translator said.

“Yeah, I am getting that feeling too.”  Nicole, one of my other team members replied.

So we went.

Sims asked the girl if we could come on the property. The girl nodded her head yes, but as soon as we approached she ran into the house. About 30 seconds later, she returned with her mother, who looked just as defeated as her daughter did. After a very short conversation, the woman invited us into her home. Her home was small, about the size of two tiny bedrooms put together. We all piled onto the three purple couches in the living room. For a few minutes we all sat in silence not really knowing what to say. Finally we introduced ourselves to each other. Her name was Judith. After a bit Andrea, another one of my teammates, asked what she had been doing before we came in. She said she had been reading through Psalms 6.

Go open your bible and read Psalms 6. Isn’t that such a sad psalm? That is some heavy stuff to be reading at 8 am in the morning. I felt the Lord pressing upon my heart to share with her Psalms 34, which is my favorite psalm. This led to everyone in the room sharing their own favorite psalm. It was in that moment when the Lord surged into the house. But what happened next is what I still remember clear as day. After the psalms sharing, Nicole asked how we could pray for Judith. Almost immediately she launched into a heart-wrenching story about how her husband had left and married a younger woman a month before. He had left her with four children, and no way to support herself. That’s when she broke. And with nothing left in her, she started to weep.

I can’t explain to you that weep. It’s the same weeping I heard from my mother when my father left. It is a weeping that can only come from extreme pain, despair or hopelessness. When the Bible talks about the “cry of the broken”, this is the cry I think of. I knew this woman’s pain, because I had experienced it myself trying to comfort my own mother. And there is nothing you can say or do to comfort someone who weeps like that. The only thing you can do is hold onto that person and let them know that the sun will shine again soon. That joy comes in the mourning. And so that’s what we did. We held her as she wept. At some point during that time found myself praying out loud over her.

 “… to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and to provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow upon them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of the spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor… Instead of their shame, my people will receive a double portion. And instead of disgrace, they will rejoice in their inheritance; and so they will inherit a double portion in their land, and everlasting joy will be theirs.” (Isaiah 61:2-7)

The Lord in that moment was speaking those words audibly over Judith and to Judith. I knew that our prayers where being heard. That the Lord had heard this woman’s weeping. He was there, with His gentle arms around her doing the very thing she needed- comforting. It was one of the most beautiful pictures of the God I have seen.

Never have I seen scripture come to life like I did in those moments. I saw her future become reality. Her mourning turned into gladness. Into praise. Into beauty.

I wanna to say that after we left Judith’s that day, she was jumping for joy. She wasn’t, but she was smiling. Her hope was rising. And that’s what I think has stuck with me for this long. Her hope.

It is such a small step from desperation to hope.

Dancing Wild and Free

I have always loved to dance. When I was a kid I remember getting grounded on more than one occasion for dancing in my room instead of doing my chores. I don’t know I just always have had a constant soundtrack going in my head.

I have also always wanted to dance before the Lord. However I’ve never felt like I was free enough to do so.

Our ministry this last month was taking Jesus into the Red Light district of Chiang Mai. Being light in the streets and bars where the darkness of sex trafficking strangles out any hope. While sex trafficking in the States is a more hidden, in Thailand it is in plain sight.

My days were filled with covering Thailand and the city of Chiang Mai with prayer. My nights were filled with talking to prostitutes, just taking the time to get to know them. Investing in who they are because rarely do they meet someone who doesn’t want to use their bodies for their own selfish reasons. And while our ministry looked very different that month than it has on any of the Race, that month was about the power of living out Jesus.

One of my favorite parts about last month was the fact that we had the chance to do quite a bit of intercessory prayer. Half of us would go into the bars while the other half stayed back and prayed through that time. This part of ministry was just as important as going out into the bars, and I can attest- prayer changes things.

The first night I did intercessory prayer was powerful in so many ways, because for the first time in my life I found myself dancing for Jesus. I danced for His honor. I danced for His glory. I danced for His praise. That night I danced wild and free, like David in the streets… only with clothes.

So why was I able to dance now and not before?

Well, first let me say, I have not had a horrible race. If anything, it has been a race full of growth and experience. Yet it is through adversity that beauty shines forth. Cynthia Occelli said, “For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out and everything changes. To someone who doesn’t understand growth, it would look like complete destruction.”

The last 4 months of my Race weren’t the greatest. They were full of frustration and heavy weights being piled onto my shoulders. The first 4 months of my race, a lot of lies from the enemy were identified, and I had started to conquer them little by little. Then in month 5, we had our 3rd team change. At first it seemed all right. However soon I realize that something was wrong. I found myself constantly frustrated, and all the progress that I had made the first 4 months started to unravel. By Malawi debrief, I was a mess. I was tired of fighting. My heart was no longer in the team.

Now please do not take the previous paragraph to be that I hated my team. No not at all. That team is an incredible group of individuals. One of those people I consider to be one of my closet friends. We did ministry well together. We had great times together, and while those 4 months were a constant struggle, I don’t regret them.

In order for a bird to truly fly free, joyfully loving every moment that it has, it first has to be caged up. Knowing what it is like to be confined, then and only then will it appreciate the freedom it is given.

With our last continent change of the Race came a new team, and my cage door was opened.

Freedom had come. And that night I released myself fully into the arms of the Lord.

Would the “me” before have danced for Jesus? No. I would have looked longingly at those who did. Yet in those moments I felt free enough with those around me that I was able to release myself into the arms of the Father, and finally do something I had wanted to do for so long, dance. And dance I did. And I haven’t stopped since.

I Forgot What It Was To Be a Missionary.

We recently got the date of when we are flying back to the States. It was hard news because it means this incredible journey that I began 10 months ago is starting to come to a close. I have to think about integrating myself back into the world back home. A world that I no longer feel quite so sure about. It involves leaving the people that I now call family. It requires me to be alone for the first time in 11 months. It requires me to adhere to the rules and regulations of my own culture. Rules and regulations that I feel I no longer fit into.

I can still remember the Thursday I stepped on the plane to head off on my journey. No matter how scared I was about the next year, there was no turning back. It was a done deal. The only way out then was to push forward. I struggled with what I was leaving behind. I was leaving behind those who already loved me. I was leaving behind everything that felt comfortable. I was leaving behind a life where I flourished.

After idly standing by for our flight to Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras, I started to get anxious. However as I took my seat on the plane my heart was immediately soothed. A calming peace came over me and I was able to relax for the first time in over a year. It was the sound of a foreign language.

I was reminded of when I came back from Zambia the first time, I distinctly remember the plane ride from South Africa to Washington DC. A flight full of mostly Americans, and for the first time in almost 9 weeks I was able to understand what was happening around me. And I did not like it. In fact I hated it.

There is simply something soothing about language barriers when doing the Lord’s work. I guess it is because through those barriers you can hear the Lord’s voice much better. You can feel and see Him working even though neither party really knows the depth of what the other is saying. It is the Holy Spirit that relays the message, not the persons involved.

For the past 9 months I have lived simply by the means of that same spirit. Living every moment in a position to hear the Lord clearly and react. In the States, I was determined to make things happen by my OWN hands. Yet in these short months I have learned to let go, and to just live. To take the time to pray for the lady begging outside of the market. To sit in a hammock and simply enjoy the presence and creation of the One who created it. To look completely stupid in the name of making some kids laugh and well lets face it, your squad mates too.

I have learned to live life simply and fully. And that’s why I am afraid to come home. Because I had forgotten that before the Race. I forgot to live life. I forgot about the wonder of the kingdom, and how to tune into His majesty.

But here is the interesting part about what I forgot. The same God that I have seen move so powerfully in the last 10 months IS THE SAME GOD THAT MOVES IN THE STATES. He is just as much present there as He is here, in Cambodia. He is just as powerful there or anywhere as He is here. The kingdom is there. It is also here. It is everywhere. And every day at any time we have the opportunity to watch Him bring it to life. The same Spirit that calls people to work as doctors or teachers is the same Spirit that calls missionaries into the slums of Cambodia. Because the kingdom is so much more than just a place, it is our heartbeat. It is the heartbeat of those who are redeemed. We are to shine His light in ALL places. For me, it shouldn’t just be in the one year where I travel the world or in the third world countries, but at home too!

I forgot what being a missionary was. But now I realize that I do not need to be afraid because as long as a serve Him faithfully, I can serve Him anywhere.

The Pursuit of Happiness

Some time ago, I went through a real rough patch. (Shocker right?) I was in this awkward season where I was trying to live the life I THOUGHT the Lord had set out for me instead of what He actually HAD set out for me. During this confusion, I clearly heard the Lord asking me to let go of someone who was important to me, one of my best friends at the time. I couldn’t figure out why the Lord was asking me to slam the door in the face of someone who had only been kind and caring towards me. It even sounded harsh and cruel, yet loud and clear the Lord was asking me for my full obedience.

The evening I shut that door, I remember sitting on the floor between two pews in a church looking at my imaginary heart in front of me shattered on the ground and thinking “Welp, you got what you wanted Lord. What now? ” My prayer that night was that God would show me the meaning of what had just happened and why it was so painful. That He would in His timing show me the beauty in that brokenness. However, first He needed me to feel the crippling pain of being broken. Experiencing the depth of crushed dreams was a necessary part of giving Him complete control of my life.

I would probably consider that night and the days to follow some of the hardest of my life. Not because of what I lost, but because of what I felt.

However, that night I started to live a life this dreamer only dreamed about living. Through the next year the Lord revealed to me just how poor in Spirit I was, and that life was so much more than what was in front of my eyes. Soon enough, that same previous pain became the glue that started to piece my broken heart back together in a new way. Making it look much different than what it had looked like before.

This month I see the fruits of that pain. I see the fruits of it when I walk these beautiful dusty streets. I feel its joy in a moment of dancing. Had it not been for that evening, I would have never felt the need to find myself apart from the idea of what I thought was supposed happen. I never would have decided to pursue the dream, rather than dream the dream and pursue something outside of who I truly was. The Lord is pressing upon me to define myself upon Him rather than in other people. He is also showing me the world He created and not the world my eyes want to see.

IMG_1477And the fruit of that previous pain is what? It is this. That after a lot of cutting, sewing and mending, here in Malawi, I am standing. Stronger than I ever was before. I am surrounded by extreme brokenness, and yet, the legs that I stand on are strengthened by only the Lord. My previously broken heart is now stitched up better than it ever was when it was whole. For the scars that are carved within it are reminders that I now live in pursuit of a happiness based on the kingdom not by my own definition. And it is through those very scars that light is able to shine, brighter than it ever has before.


Last month in Zambia, my team and I worked with SOS, a government-run orphan village on the outskirts of Livingstone. They house about 250 kids that are both single and double orphans. Much like the previous organization I came to Zambia with, Every Orphan’s Hope, they have homes of 9-10 children with a Mama presiding over it. One of the beautiful things about this set up is that these Mamas choose in to this. We sometimes focus more on the children in these homes and fail to realize that these Mamas have given up everything just to help the children that have been placed into their care. They have the most beautiful stories amongst them too. Stories of remarkable strength, courage and faith. They have faced the toughest of challenges and risen above them. They have sacrificed so much so that they can be here helping and raising these children into godly men and women. They are an instrumental part of these kids’ lives, helping heal them emotionally as well as physically. These ladies are an inspiring group of God-fearing women and a portrait picture of a Proverbs 31 woman. They are beautiful in all that they do. Their strength is graciously given from the Lord, and their lives are continually blessed because of their sacrifice. So are those lives of those whom they serve and interact with. These Mamas serve wholeheartedly and without complaint. I have seen the daily struggles that they go through and never once have I heard them say anything negative about the life that the chose into. Instead they get up and lead devotions, and they praise God and encourage each other to keep running the race. Through their tender sacrifice, I have been encouraged and shown wisdom. Never will I forget their examples, and I hope one day that I can raise my children as they are raising the children under their wing. Their love for these children has gone deeper than anything I have ever seen. These children have become their own. Mamas, thank you for blessing me through who you are.

Zambia: A Bittersweet Reunion

Two years ago, I was sitting in a little living room talking with a sweet couple that was allowing us to stay with them for the weekend. The other interns and I had come to Livingstone for a mini retreat before our camp season started up in Zambia. Mama, then the director of Every Orphans Hope, had put us in contact with Sanderson and his wife Lweendo.IMG_3145

After a long day of safaris and elephants rides, we all sat down exhausted for a meal and to get to know each other. Little did I know what the Lord was about to show me. Lweendo’s husband, Sanderson, started to tell us about his ministry called J Zone. A ministry built on the power of Christ’s love, and propelled by a community of believers to reach the lost. The Lord gave them a vision for the orphans and widows of Africa that have been neglected and a calling to the hopeless and broken-hearted. As we sat talking about his ministry, I had a supernatural feeling. Chills begun to run down my spine and the world sort of took on this golden glow. I really cannot explain that moment, but I knew it was a moment from God.

Fast forward two years later. I was in Bulgaria talking to one of my squad mates about how excited I was for Zambia.

“Did you ever think you would go back there?” she said.

“To tell you the truth, my heart hoped for it, but I was never really certain.” I said. And cue a memory from two years previously. The same exact feeling flooded every part of me. Immediately, I had a sense that this was a fulfillment of his promise. A promise that I had thought was meant for someone else the first time, but now I knew it was for me.

IMG_3090So the weave of my life is slowly being woven together. So beautifully. So powerfully. With only a testament to the goodness and faithfulness of His majesty. I wish I could explain to you how incredibly joyful I am to finally be reunited with my heart. When the plane touched down on Zambian soil, I literally felt it jump back into my chest. Since being here, that feeling has only grown stronger within these dry bones. Giving me strength on the days when ministry is hard and I am exhausted. Giving me hope in the day when all things will be restored, because the little girl holding my hand is not there yet. In fact she’s abandoned, and doesn’t understand why. It provides tickles, when laughter is needed. It brings out a song when praise is flowing, and a dance when joy is being poured out, and its source is the Faithful One.

I am still not fully funded yet. In order to stay out in the field, I have to raise $2,200 by July 1st. Your prayers and support goes a long way. To donate, please visit christinacates.theworldrace.org and click on the “Support Me!” link under my photo.

I know that the Lord has called me to this beautiful life for this season. To these moments where the weaving of His hands are seen so clearly and so distinctly.


Unsung Heroes Lessons.

The day I ruined my mother’s newly remodeled shower.

Marble tile + Lime Away = Not a good mix. In a 30 second window of time I managed to ruin a newly remodeled bathroom shower.

And as the day continued to unfold, things got worse and worse, and I became even more broken down. It wasn’t just the shower. It was my whole life. How many times had I failed miserably from my faithful attempts? All I wanted to do was be a good kid and clean the bathroom for my tired mother. All the feelings of inadequacy that I had kept at bay broke through the dam I had built to keep them in. I was a pathetic excuse of a human being, and the only thing I deserved was the painful death that was borrowed from me at the cross. Who was I to ask for anything more than that? Satan had been working on me. And he finally found his way in. Through sheer exhaustion, and brokenness, I let him win. He had me. He had me convinced that going on the World Race was not what the Lord wanted for me. Who was I to change to the lives of the broken? I could not even clean a bathroom right, let alone clean up people who have been abandoned and neglected. Even my most righteous acts are filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6), and all the scripture memorization in the world didn’t prepare me for that moment. The moment when life comes down to one thing. Faith. And that day I lost it.

I had decided to back out of the World Race, to start living a life of normalcy, to follow the rules set by the culture I grew up in, and to give up the spirit bestowed to me. I hadn’t left yet. It would only be a missed opportunity on my part. However, something led me to watch the videos of a World Racer that had just finished his race. And through the song in that video the Lord reminded me to try. That it is trying that makes the difference between succeeding and failing. For the Kingdom is built by the tries of man, and the success by God doing the rest.

This month is about trying. Our ministry this month is called Unsung Heroes.

IMG_2720My life is sitting in restaurants, coffee shops, and parks, meeting people where they are. It is finding out what people need. Which is different from other months on the Race. Usually we are given our assignments. Usually we are given a general schedule.

We don’t have deadlines. We don’t have schedules.

Is it the easiest thing in the world? No.

Do I feel like a failure a lot of the time? Yes.

But I am trying.

Here in this place, more than I have in the previous months I have learned the importance of just being. Learning to let go of all expectations. Embracing silence. Embracing the everyday moments. In disagreements. In laughter. In dance parties. In being open and vulnerable. In having conversations with local coffee shop owners. In walking the streets of Sofia, and looking for opportunities. Yea, some days are easier than others. Yet it is through our trying that we are redefining how we see the kingdom. We are finding grace in new ways, and we love uncomfortably. This is the lesson of an Unsung Heroes month. That He is simply displaying the power of just hanging out with people. Not in some overwhelming way. The more we try, the more the Lord is revealed.IMG_2622

Chasing Clouds

IMG_1720February was an interesting month. The World Race has a reputation for growing you in the most uncomfortable ways. Digging up secrets and issues current and past, slapping you in the face and making you deal with them head on, hand and hand with the Lord, your team, and your squad. That is the beauty of community living.

“In order to set free people, you have to be set free from people.”

This phrase stuck with me from the very first week of the Race, and for a people pleaser like myself, this phrase is also a lot easier said than done. Welcome to the next month of my life. It all started February 1st when the Lord allowed certain issues that I thought I had buried at training camp resurface. The deep-rooted lie of my worthlessness. Only this time I got to see just how far down the rabbit hole went.

Our first Sunday in Quiche, Guatemala the ladies of C squad had a girl’s night. One of the activities we did was write our names on sheets of paper and hang it on a wall. Then each of us walked around the room and wrote out qualities about our sisters that we loved. At the end of the night I was handed a sheet filled with 31 uplifting and encouraging comments about who I was, and when I sat down to read them I realized that I didn’t believe a single one of them. I have heard the lies of worthlessness for so long that I do not even recognize them as lies anymore but rather as the truth. On top of that, I’ve rationalized everything around me to confirm that lie. I was walked away from by my father. My best is never enough for my mother. My best friends have all replaced me or left me. I have always been forgotten about or cast aside.

So how do you let go of something that has become so ruthlessly engrained into the core of your existence? Well, you go chase clouds. Literally.

IMG_1813A fellow squad mate and I went paragliding. I have no idea how I was talked into it. But as soon as the plans started being made, I had this feeling that this was something that the Lord wanted me to do. And while my squad mate’s intention was purely for an adrenaline rush, mine was to let go of everything that fed my lie. At 7:30 am we set off, and after 4 hours of chicken buses and sketchy taxis we finally made it to our destination, Lake Atitlan.

And can I say I was dragged off that cliff with so much style. I say dragged because that’s exactly what happened. And I felt like the change in my heart was the same way. Parts of me are going willingly, yet others are still reluctant. And while of course old habits die-hard and I still struggle, the Lord is quick to gently remind me of those quiet moments in the air when it was just me and the quiet whispers of the wind ministering to my spirit. The lies that Satan speaks over me are finally being countered by the truth that I have a Savior who finds me so beautiful, and worthy that He died for me. One that will never walk away from me or pick someone else over me.

I am and always will be the apple of His eye.

The Value of Tugged Heart Strings

IMG_8745Walking through the village daily in Honduras, we made a few friends. There was Jose who ran the pulperia up the street. There was the old woman whom we politely nicknamed Grandma. She was about 75 years old and wore this pretty sweet pair of neon colored Keds shoes. Grandma also always had a smile on her face. A smile that simply overflowed with kindness and joy.

Then there was Mercedes and her sweet family. Mercedes looked a lot younger than she acted, and her smile was full of light and love for those around her. Mercedes also has been battling cancer for at least the last year and half. However she has continued to push  through the chemo treatments she can afford, all while taking of the 4 sweet kiddos that reside with her. First there is Orlando. He is the oldest. He is constantly taking care of his younger siblings and helping out his mother. Next there is Davy. He, just like his mother, is full of joy and happiness. One of his favorite things to do is to give hugs, and luckily one of my team’s favorite things to do is receive hugs. Davy also has Down syndrome. Then there’s little Juan. He loves to play futbol, or soccer as us gringos call it. I always saw him running around in the same pair of rain boots that are about 3 sizes too big for his feet, but that never hindered him from making a play for the ball. And last but certainly not the least, there’s baby Emmy. Emmy is 5 months old, and has big brown eyes. Eyes that reflect the beauty of her mother.Screen shot 2014-02-20 at 11.43.04 PM

From the first day we met this sweet family the Lord laid them upon every single one of my team member’s hearts. Without hesitation on the days when we finished ministry early we would head over to their house and visit for a while and just hanging out, playing soccer or enjoying coconut popsicles together.

Before I started the Race I asked the Lord to give me the burdens of His heart and to give me the courage to follow those burdens. And Mercedes was my first lesson in that. It wasn’t until the third visit that we were told that Emmy was sick. Mercedes simply asked if we could pray from Emmy. She never told us what was wrong with Emmy. And so we prayed, and that day when I left I felt to Lord tugging at my heart, but what was it He wanted?

The next time when we went back to visit we took a translator with us so we could ask how we could better pray for Emmy. We found out that Emmy needed surgery, but that Mercedes could not afford the surgery needed, and that with Emmy’s need for the surgery, many things within the household were being affected. Like Orlando being able to go back to school the next year, or Mercedes going to getting her own chemo treatments.

In total the surgery only cost about 150 US dollars. Yet I asked myself, was this really what the Lord wanted my team to do. Yeah, my team combined had 3 times that amount just in spending money, but money is not the solution to every problem. There is so much more going on here than a need for money. Yet walking away from the house, we knew that the Lord was calling us to help Mercedes in some way. Yet I had NO idea until this month the harvest that He would reap because of our obedience.

IMG_8663So after some prayer and wisdom from our ministry contacts, our team came up with a plan. And upon our fourth visit, as we rounded to corner to Mercedes’s mud hut, Orlando came running down the dirt path toward us. To see such pure excitement in him sealed my heart for what the Lord had asked me to do and that was when the Lord’s peace overwhelmed me. I knew we were doing exactly what He wanted us too.

Fast forward to this month. With Satan hot on our heels all the time, and discouragement about being on the Race has constantly been a thought in the back of my mind.  But the Lord always brings you good news right when you need it. Not too long ago I logged on to Facebook and happened across a recent post from our contacts in Honduras. IMG_1479It was about Mercedes and her family. After our team left, another World Race team came in after us to get some more information about how better to aid Mercedes. Long story short, they found out that Mercedes actually has 7 children total. One died at age 3 when he drowned in a water pail, and 4 of the remaining 6 have disabilities. Heart of Christ Ministries is now able to administer and aid in vital health treatment and care for both Mercedes and for each of her children. And here’s the bonus. The World Race team behind us had the opportunity of witnessing Mercedes give her life to Christ.

How amazing is it that the Lord used my team and I to plant seeds that could be harvested. How just a small tug of the heart could yield such praise, joy, and encouragement. How beautiful is it that the Book of Life now has 7 more names added to it pages. Ah yes. I see change. And it is so good.