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“Hey, do you think this is safe to eat?”

Our Feeding Center is the heartbeat of our ministry in the village of El Sitio. Each week we experience firsthand the malnutrition, poverty, and sickness that are all too common among the many families that live there.

Because of generous donors and partners in the US, we can offer healthy, delicious meals each week to many kids and moms. But more than that, we love on them, serve them and point them to Jesus.

Just a week ago, I was at the Feeding Center building getting it ready for the new year. Two brothers yelled at me from the road. I recognized their faces, but I didn’t know them because they weren’t in our Feeding Center.

These two boys quickly became my friends and they asked if they could help me. I could tell by looking at them that things were probably tough at home for them. I asked them if they wanted to split my sandwich, which they quickly responded with a “Yes!!!”, and then I headed to get them a broom. When I returned they had already finished there sandwich.

During the next hour, we cleaned, we played and we joked around. They told me their mom was very sick and the only thing they had eaten in the last two days were a couple tortillas. I taught them how to burp and the youngest brother shot his older brother in the face with the water nozzle – twice.

As we finished up our work we were sorting through trash that had accumulated over several weeks. It was then when Bryan, the oldest of the two boys, held up an old bag with a half-eaten sandwich and asked: “Hey, do you think this is safe to eat?”

My heart ached at his inquiry. The half-eaten sandwich was mine from the previous week and I had thrown it away because I didn’t like it much. I realized at that moment that I probably waste more food than these boys consume.

So, why do I share this story with you? I share it because we need your help…and so do Bryan and his brother Josue.

Our Feeding Center will re-open next week for the year. We have received only a little funding for our Feeding Center sponsorship program this year, but we are moving forward in faith that we will not only provide meals for the 90-100 kids and moms from last year, but that we can grow and add these two boys and a few other families that are in the same situation.

For just $100, you can help us provide 3 nutritious meals a week for an entire year. Not only do these kids and moms receive the benefit of these nutritious meals, but we also pay three moms from the village to run the kitchen and our preschool. And the other moms that volunteer to work in the Center, they receive rice, beans, sugar, and oatmeal as pay.

I am no Warren Buffet or Charles Schwab, but I promise you that this is a great investment! If you would like to sponsor 1 or more children in our program, it would be a huge blessing to our ministry and to this community.

To participate, please visit or Donation page.  Thanks!

By |2020-03-07T00:42:15+00:00March 7th, 2020|Doug, Guatemala|Comments Off on “Hey, do you think this is safe to eat?”

Jorge’s Story — Part 2

This is Part 2 of Jorge’s story. Click here to read Part 1.

Mario called me later that day and confirmed that Jorge had an appointment for X-rays at the lab for Monday morning. Their only means of transportation is public transport, so I agreed that I would pick him up Monday morning and take him to town for his appointments.

I was both anxious and nervous when I arrived early that Monday morning at Mario’s house. Walter, Jorge’s brother, was waiting for us. I waved and he quickly ran to get his parents.

A couple moments later, Mario emerged from his house carrying Jorge. This is the first time I have seen him since the accident.

He looked awful. I found out later that he hadn’t eaten since the accident. His face had a yellow tint and he looked extremely weak. I knew that this was more serious than I had realized.

It was now 2 weeks and one day since the accident. Jorge had been in excruciating pain. Mario was holding Jorge very carefully and attempted to gently slide Jorge into our back seat. During this process, Jorge’s body adjusted slightly in Mario’s hands and he cried out in immense pain. It was more than a cry…it was more like a wail. I just closed my eyes.

I saw Ana for the first time since the accident and she looked terrible. She was a worried mother and she certainly had lost sleep worrying about her baby.

In a driving rainstorm, we drove down from Santa Maria de Jesus. I drove carefully so not to cause Jorge any more pain. The car was quiet – too quiet. But then, in his sweet little voice, Jorge cut through the silence and thanked me for helping him. I was glad to hear his voice — it actually encouraged me a bit. I asked him if he was OK and he assured me he was.

We had two stops to make. We needed X-rays at the lab and then a short trip to the doctor’s office. I pulled up to the lab and opened Mario’s door. He cautiously exited the car without incident, but as he stood up and attempted to get a better hold, Jorge’s leg was bumped and again he cried out in pain.

Before Mario went into the clinic, he came back and with a look of desperation asked “If they say that Jorge needs a surgery, what do we do?” Without hesitation I told him “Do it!”

I knew it would be a while so I returned to my house to wait for their call. Several hours later, I got the call to pick them up to take Jorge to the doctor. When I arrived to pick them up, it was only Ana — Mario and Jorge had already left.

Ana was crying and very upset. She explained that Jorge’s break was really, really bad and that the doctor sent them to talk to a surgeon at the hospital.

Mario and Jorge had already left in a taxi, so I needed to shuttle Ana to the hospital quickly. When we arrived I gave her a big hug, told her that I would wait for them in the car, and then I sent her in to meet up with Jorge and Mario.

After 20 minutes, Ana, Mario, and Jorge returned to the car – silent and visibly shaken.

I helped them get Jorge into the car and then I pulled Mario aside. He told me that the doctor said that Jorge had a very bad fracture and he needed surgery immediately. He explained, through tears, that they couldn’t do it because they didn’t have the money. The surgery was expensive because it would require a plate and screws to repair the bone. So now, here they are after seeing their son suffer so much for the past few weeks, they now realize the severity of his injuries and know that they can’t afford to get the treatment and care he desperately needs.

It was late, it was dark, and the mood was somber. I drive Jorge and his family back up the volcano. When we arrived and Mario carried Jorge into the house without incident. Walter, Jorge’s brother, is waiting anxiously on news of his little brother. He is being comforted by his grandma and grandpa in the living room where this tragedy began. He runs to give me a big hug. I wait for Mario and Ana to get Jorge comfortable in their bed inside of their tiny bedroom.

They call me quietly into their room so that I can see Jorge. Jorge, still weak and in pain, hugs and thanks me. Again, his small gesture bring me encouragement and calms my nerves. I told him I loved him and he broke a tiny smile for me.

I quietly talk with Mario and Ana about their plan. They explain that they don’t have enough money for the surgery, but they would talk to his parents to see if they can help. I knew that was a dead end because his parents are much more poor than Mario.

I am trying to process all of this and it is extremely difficult. The rain is pounding hard on their sheet metal roof. The temperature in this tiny bedroom seems like 100 degrees. I am emotionally drained, my head is splitting, and I have a million things going through my mind.

They need 14,000 Quetzals for the surgery. That is about $2,000. They only have 5,000 Quetzals. There is only one option, so I told them that Holly & I would loan them the money. I told them we didn’t want Jorge to suffer another minute.

They didn’t speak – they were overcome with emotion. They hugged one another tightly. The tension in the room lifted and it was replaced by a sense of hope. Mario leaned down onto the bed and explained to Jorge that they were going to be able to fix his leg. Ana gave me a quick hug and then quickly exited the room. Mario hugged and thanked me and assured me they would pay me back.

As I drove back home in the dark, rainy night, I questioned if I had handled the situation correctly from the beginning. Should I have done something sooner? Should I have convinced Mario the very first day that Jorge needed a doctor? Should I have just driven to his house to see him first hand? Maybe that would have been all I needed to convince them to seek treatment.

While I did feel a sense of relief, I also remembered Jorge’s cries of pain. My relief was tempered by the thought of the pain that Jorge would still endure for a few more days.

That night, as Holly and I talked about the day, we talked about what was the best way to help and bless Jorge’s family. I knew all along we were going to help them, I just wasn’t sure of the best way. The offer of the loan allowed Mario to move forward with Jorge’s surgery and gave us time to figure out how we would come up with the money.

After some discussion, we decided that instead of a loan would pay for the surgery with ministry funds and by soliciting help on Facebook. If we could find partners to contribute to 50% of the surgery costs, we would find ministry funds to pay for the remaining.

On Tuesday morning at 10 am, we posted on our Facebook page. We shared a little bit about Jorge and our hope to raise 50% of the funds in the next 24 hours. I am always nervous and hesitant to ask for money, but we felt so strongly that people would be touched by Jorge’s story.

We were blown away at the response. We had dozens of people praying for Jorge and several generous donors stepped up and surpassed our goal of 50% and funded the ENTIRE amount in less than 12 hours.

It was a great moment to be able to call Mario and explain that friends, family, and even strangers had donated the money to pay for the entire surgery. I had to explain it to him a couple times that this wasn’t a loan, it was ALL paid for. I shared that it was a blessing that God provided for his family through complete strangers.

Jorge had his surgery the next morning. He now has a plate and four screws in his leg. Within 24 hours of his surgery, the worst of his pain had subsided and his appetite returned. We are happy to share that he is on his way to a full recovery.

There is one other part of this story that I want to share. What I know now is that Jorge is in fact a miracle. What Mario didn’t tell me the day we took him to the doctor is that the surgeon shared some disturbing news about Jorge’s injury. He explained to Mario and Ana that often times, when injuries of this magnitude aren’t treated in a timely manner, young kids die from the pain. The pain causes enormous stress on these small bodies and eventually the body shuts down. Unfortunately, it is a common occurrence in impoverished communities where families either choose not to seek medical attention or don’t have the necessary financial resources.

I don’t know how many more weeks or days Jorge could have gone on. I am just thankful that his story didn’t turn out like so many others.

As I reflect on this entire situation, it is a great reminder to me of God’s faithfulness. I am still learning that as hard as we try and as hard as we work, it is God that is knocking down doors. To be honest, the last 11 months for us has been a challenge. There are times when I sit here and wonder: “What in the world are we doing here?” There are times when things don’t go the way we want or we don’t accomplish things as quickly as we think we should. But, it is in these moments that I now realize that I’m putting my trust in my own abilities and not in God’s.

I have to remind myself that we are right where God has called us. And, in those times, when I truly understand and truly believe this, our job and mission seem so clear and simple: stay within God’s will. OK, maybe it just sounds simple because living life that way…well, it can be difficult. Especially when I keep getting in the way!

We can’t thank everyone enough for their concern for Jorge. We thank you for the prayers, well-wishes and for everyone that sacrificed financially for his surgery. Mario, Ana, and Jorge are extremely grateful and they have shared with us multiple times to express their gratitude to everyone.

By |2020-11-01T14:54:30+00:00November 18th, 2015|Doug, Guatemala, Uncategorized|Comments Off on Jorge’s Story — Part 2

Jorge’s Story – Part 1

Many of you were touched by the details of Jorge’s accident that we posted on Facebook. There is much more to the story that we would like to share. It is really long, so I’ve broken it into two parts. This is Part 1 and Part 2 will be posted tomorrow.

I really believe in the power of story telling. I hope you are touched by Jorge’s story and how so many of you helped this little boy find healing. — Doug

We met Jorge’s family in April. His dad, Mario, takes care of the grounds in our condominium. We struck up a friendship and we’ve spent a lot of time together the past few months. Jorge’s mom, Ana, really looks up to Holly and loves to spend time with her. Holly taught Ana how to make cupcakes and zucchini bread and Ana taught Holly how to make Guatemalan enchiladas. Jorge has an older brother, Walter, and he likes to play soccer and Legos with Cooper.

Mario tells me frequently that Jorge asks him when he can come see Pancho, their nickname for me. One very special memory that I have of Jorge is his 2nd visit to our house, he ran up to me as his parents were leaving, and told me that my kids were his best friends. That moment melted my heart because my kids were in a season where they were struggling to make friends.

Jorge is a typical 5 year old Guatemalan boy. He is short, skinny, and frequently ill. He is shorter than Sarahn, our 4 year old daughter, and with far less meat on his bones.

The accident happened on a Sunday afternoon in Santa Marie de Jesus, a pueblo on the base of Volcano Agua. Jorge was in the living room of their house and he was climbing the furniture, as we’ve seen him do before.

The “TV stand” was tall, narrow and very shallow. It held a few photos and a large tube TV. As he neared the top of the furniture, his weight pulled the furniture over. Jorge fell and landed on the concrete floor followed by the crashing TV and stand. The result was a badly fractured femur right below the hip. A very serious injury.

Two days went by before I heard about the accident. It was a Tuesday afternoon and Mario rang our doorbell, as he does quite often. I asked him how he was and he responded “very bad Pancho.” He explained about Jorge’s accident and his pain. I could tell that Mario was extremely worried about his son.

I asked what the doctor said and he explained that they didn’t take him to a doctor because a “Señora” from their town was taking care of Jorge. A “Señora”? I didn’t understand so he explained that she is someone from their village that is a natural healer.

I was in disbelief that he had not seen a doctor nor had x-rays. Maybe, I thought, the injuries weren’t as bad as they sounded. Mario continued and said that the “Señora” found that Jorge had a broken leg and broken pelvis. My gut dropped, I could not believe what he was sharing with me. The injuries were actually worse than I thought.

“Is he in pain?”, I asked. “Yes, a lot” he responded. Not only was he not being treated by a doctor, but he was also without anything to treat the pain.

Mario went on to explain that the bones were already healing because the “Señora” had set them back in place. He told me this as he demonstrated putting two hands on his leg and pushing and thrusting from each direction.

I was speechless. I could not believe what I was seeing. What I wanted to do was shake him and say “Take him to the doctor RIGHT NOW.” But, I didn’t. Instead, I listened as he explained that both he and his brother had broken arms when they were younger. The same “Señora” that was helping Jorge actually “healed” their broken bones many years ago. He proudly showed me how he could move his arm up and down and side to side.

What Mario failed to understand was that Jorge’s injuries were much more significant than a broken arm. Mario continued and also shared their fears of what a doctor might do to Jorge. They feared the doctor would want to perform surgery and they didn’t want to put Jorge through that. Plus, he reminded me they had the “Señora” to help Jorge.

I had this internal struggle with what I thought was the right thing to do. He wasn’t intentionally neglecting his son because he was doing exactly what people from his pueblo have always done. It was how his parents took care of him and his brother and it worked.

As we finished our conversation, Mario could sense that I was struggling with all of this. In a moment that I will never forget, he put his hand on my shoulder and assured me that Jorge was going to get better. He just needed some more time he told me.

Two days later, on a Thursday afternoon, Mario returned. We asked about Jorge and he explained that he was still in a lot of pain. The “Señora” had returned and started Jorge’s therapy.

Wait, what? Therapy? This is FOUR days after he supposedly broke his leg and pelvis. FOUR days.

Mario demonstrated how the “Señora” put one hand on Jorge’s thigh and the other hand on his lower leg and then slowly bend and move his leg upwards. I winced as he showed me the motion. He explained that this movement was necessary in order to produce healing.

I told him it probably produced a lot of pain also. He confirmed this and then explained that Jorge cried so hard that he eventually threw up.

“Does he have pain medicine yet?” I asked. “No, the ‘Señora’ doesn’t have any for him”, Mario responded. Fortunately, Holly remembered we had a full bottle of Tylenol Pain Reliever, so we gave it to him. I explained that a doctor can provide a stronger medicine, but this might provide some minor relief.

I explained to Mario that a fractured leg needs stabilized for several weeks. I encouraged him to not proceed so quickly and that it would be best if he lets Jorge rest.

At this point, Holly and I became very concerned for Jorge, but we weren’t quite sure what to do. What Holly wanted me to do was to simply convince Mario to take Jorge to the doctor. Mario and Ana trust us and we probably could have had that conversation and been successful. However, I had this struggle about how involved we should get.

In the back of my mind I remembered Mario’s fear that something bad would happen to Jorge at the hospital or in surgery. It was a valid concern given the medical care in public hospitals. But – what if he was right. What if I convinced them to treat Jorge and then something bad happened. It would be hard to forgive myself. But, on the other hand, if we sit and do nothing surely Jorge’s health would continue to go downhill.

We really wrestled with all of these thoughts and there seemed no easy solution.

We were very busy the following week. I didn’t see Mario until Wednesday – 10 days since the accident.

When I saw Mario, he was the most upbeat and positive that I had seen him since the accident. Mario shared with us that Jorge was doing better. They had stopped his treatment from the previous week. He still had a lot of pain, but it wasn’t as severe.

I felt a relieved knowing that the pain was a little better, but that feeling quickly faded. Mario then asked if I could help him find a children’s walker to rent.

After the troubles with the previous “treatment”, how could they consider moving him again?

I wasn’t disrespectful, but I told Mario as firmly as I could that we would ABSOLUTELY NOT help him find a walker. I told him it should be a long, long while before he tries to walk.

He looked surprised and a bit confused. He told me that the previous day that the “Señora” had returned and tried to have him walk.

Before he finished his sentence, I stopped him and explained how bad of an idea this was. I told him that this will cause more damage to his leg and increase the pain.

Mario nodded his head in agreement. He explained that they had to stop after just a couple steps because Jorge was crying so hard. Thankfully, they returned him to bed, but the damage was done. Jorge cried out most of the night from the pain.

At this point, I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head. This couldn’t go on. Jorge had been through too much and he needed to see a doctor.

I reminded Mario again that these “treatments” were not beneficial. In fact, they were dangerous. I encouraged him to talk with Ana about taking Jorge to a doctor. Without hesitation, Mario agreed. He would talk with Ana that afternoon and they would figure out what to do.

The next few days passed quickly for us as we were hosting friends from the States. I didn’t see Mario again until Saturday – 13 days since the accident. He told me that his father agreed that it was time to see a doctor. I was a little surprised that his dad agreed, but was encouraged because I knew Mario and Ana would follow his advice.

Stay tuned for Part 2

By |2020-11-01T14:54:32+00:00November 17th, 2015|Doug, Guatemala, Uncategorized|1 Comment

Finding Home

It has been almost 7 months since we arrived in Guatemala. I wish that I could say it has been an easy 7 months. As I sat watching our children play outside tonight, I realized that the storm has settled in our lives. There has been no more crying for our loss, no more times of anger and frustration, and less yearning for what we once had. And I feel a great peace over my family and I see my children beginning to embrace our new life.

So many blessings have come from our short time here. We have two wonderful church families that God is using to feed us, we are working with children and teachers in a school of a nearby village, we had a successful BIG birthday party for Sarahn and Cooper, and, most importantly, we are building relationships with many beautiful families.

After our birthday party for Sarahn and Cooper in June, our neighbor came to me and said that she so much admired Doug and me for what we are doing. She said that our party was the first party that she had attended with such a beautiful mix of people. We had Americans, Spanish and indigenous. I shared with her that we felt that everyone in attendance was our family.

I have had the honor of cooking with women around their stove, going to the market with them, learning how to cook their food and learning about a culture so very different from mine. I have loved on children and seen the face of Jesus in their eyes as we give them something that seems insignificant to me, but means so much to them. I love this country more each day because of the people that we have met and the beauty that surrounds us.

Not a day goes by that I am not in awe of God’s power and His glory by the beautiful picture that He paints around us. This country and His people have become our home and family. Our hearts have been here for a long time, but it was our flesh that needed to become one.

In our seven months, we have also seen our children grow. Grow spiritually. They yearn for our family devotions and have come to realize that going to the bible has gotten us through our hardest times. There are times when our children’s prayers nearly knock me off my chair. The prayers have become deep and personal. They are starting to get it. Starting to get why we are here and that we are right where God wants us. We are home.

By |2020-11-01T14:54:32+00:00July 5th, 2015|Uncategorized|1 Comment

Faith, Hope and Love

And now these three remain Faith, Hope and Love. But the greatest of these is love.
Corinthians 13:13

I think that Doug and I would both agree that the most frustrating thing we have faced since moving to Guatemala has been the language barrier. The first few months were quiet comical as we traveled around the town. And the guard of our neighborhood would politely smile at us when we knew he was laughing inside. We knew when we visited the school it would be even more frustrating.

But God showed me when I met Dani and his sisters that I don’t need words at all. When we arrived at the school there were about 5 children that were waiting for our visit. They, like all children I have met, were worn from the world around them. Their clothes were torn and dirty, shoes were worn and small, they had dirty faces with runny noses and dry and sore skin. But as we talked, they began to show us their beautiful smiles.

My heart broke. They needed my touch more than I could ever begin to imagine. They needed a mother’s touch. They needed a mother’s love.

A young boy, Dani, sat beside me and we began to talk. I understood for a moment and then I had to ask our friend to translate for me. His sisters held my hand, touched my hair and stayed close to me. I held their hand and smiled. It seemed that they longed for me to touch them and they to touch me. They stayed close.

As we talked more Dani shared that their mother had past away two years ago. My heart broke. They needed my touch more than I could ever begin to imagine. They needed a mother’s touch. They needed a mother’s love.

And Here I am. I felt like I had nothing to give because of this language barrier. The barrier I knew I would face. As I look into these children’s eyes again God shows me the place He needs me to be. A child with no mother and I was once a mother with no child. He continues to bring that pain that once paralyzed my body and soul and shows me why. He shows me that my pain will not go without purpose. He will continue to bring beauty to it just as He did with the coming together of my family.

I don’t know why these children have to endure such loss. I also don’t quite understand why we live in a world with so much brokenness. What I do know is that my God cries for all of us. He cries out for His children and He wants so much to wrap His arms around us and hold us tight. I have felt these arms around me for so long now. And so He has called me at this time to be Him to these children. At this point I don’t have many words to share but I don’t think that is what He is worried about. Right now He wants me to show them the love that He has showed me.

So I am called to hug and touch these children just like their mother would have done. And from there He will do the rest.

-Holly

By |2015-05-29T23:26:11+00:00May 29th, 2015|Holly, Journey|1 Comment

Harvest

He told them, ” The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into His harvest field. Go!” Luke 10: 2 & 3. A few days ago, I took sometime and went to the fields with my dad, brother and nephew. When I was young, I couldn’t wait to spend time with my dad on the farm. Actually, that was what I preferred.

As a child I remember helping my dad open the seed bags, so that he could pour them into the planter. I remember countless hours riding in the tractor and, my favorite memory, falling asleep in the cab as the warm sun shined in.

I remember learning to drive a tractor and being terrified that I would mess something up. I remember working the fields and smelling the fresh smell of the earth. I remember unloading wagon after wagon load of grain. I remember the first time my dad let me drive the combine all by myself. I remember helping my mom make meals and take them to the fields for the guys. And the countless hours of time in the garden with my mom.

I could go on and on of all those great memories. But I also remember some not so great times. Like, the times when I wanted to be with friends, but instead had to be at the field or working in the garden. I remember hooking all of the weeds out of many fields. I remember cutting wood every Saturday, so that we would have enough to keep us warm for the winter. I remember the stress levels when doubt would settle in after a equipment would break or when the weather was too cold or too wet. I remember the tired and worn bodies of working long, hard hours during planting and harvest season.

Being a farmer is not easy. A farmers life revolves around his fields. And it is the same for his family. Faith becomes important everyday of your life. To trust during times of doubt. My dad told me that he would spend a lot time talking to and thanking God for this bountiful harvest. I am sure there were many times when the harvest wasn’t as bountiful, but he still thanked Him. My mom has told me she feels closer to God in her garden than anywhere else. I know He is there because He blesses every seed she puts in the ground.

All of us had to work and each one of us had to do our part during harvest. Just as Christ said the harvest is plenty and the workers are few. Christ is “the Lord of harvest” or the farmer and His harvest is plentiful. His fields mean everything to Him. He too longs for a bountiful harvest. The ones He has called to be His workers have a great responsibility. He needs us to be His hands and feet. And just like a farmer, there will times that are hard and times where the workers are few compared to the work in front of them. He needs His workers to press on and have faith that He is there.

I was once that seed that the “Lord of harvest” planted and my parents, along with many others worked, made sure that seed nurtured and loved. But most of all, they made sure I knew who my Creator was. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it wasn’t for my parents and their harvest. I am blessed to be a farmers daughter. Here and in heaven.

-Holly

By |2014-10-23T02:58:31+00:00October 23rd, 2014|Holly, Journey|2 Comments

Surrender

The hardest part about our journey is when I experience my children weeping. It has only happened a few times, but it was such a painful experience for me as a mom. When God called us to Guatemala it wasn’t just Doug and I that He called, it was our children too.

Tonight, both Maya and Cooper cried before bed. They said they didn’t know why they were crying, but I knew. They were grieving. Grieving for the only house they have known, for the school and friendships they are missing and grieving for the life they once knew as their own.

It breaks my heart when they look into my eyes and ask “Why do we have to do this?”. I can attempt to explain it to them, but they only understand at a a child’s level.

It is a difficult sacrifice that they didn’t ask to make. Like any mother, when your child is hurting you want to fix it. So, I started asking them how I could take this hurt away ? What can I say that will make it all better for them? I quickly realized I can’t take it away and I can’t make it better — and that is very hard for me.

This is something they have to go through and it will probably get harder. As I sat with Maya and let her cry, she began to open up. All I could do was hold her as tight as I could, tell her I love her and pray with her.

I reminded her that Jesus told His disciples that when they decided to follow Him that it wasn’t going to be easy. But, He did promise that He would always be with them.

I have no doubt that God is right here with my family. I feel and sense Him every day along our journey. My children are sacrificing everything they know and I’m trying hard to help them understand “surrendering”. I admit, I even have a hard time with that word. We have been called to surrender “things” that make us happy and content and that can cause pain. Because when we surrender, we surrender everything that keeps us from being totally dependent on Him.

Tonight, I am only seeing and feeling a tiny bit of what God felt when His Son sacrificed and surrendered Himself for me on the cross. I can’t imagine. I am pretty sure I would not be able to leave my son on that cross.

I am a weak mom. He brings me to my knees as I cry out and ask for Him to hold my children. And then He softly reminds me that they are His and that He already has this under control. He is already holding them, just as He has held Doug and I through all of our hurt.

I see God using them in great ways when we get to Guatemala. We will continue to face difficult times, but He is able to protect their hearts. All I can do is to continue to point them to “Him” and He will take care of the rest.

– Holly

By |2015-05-29T23:03:34+00:00September 4th, 2014|Holly, Journey|Comments Off on Surrender

Deep, Deep Water

“Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch” — Luke 5:4

There are days that I doubt that I am strong enough to do this. In the last months, there have been many weak moments for me. Unfortunately for my kids they have witnessed some of these. Moments when I’ve lost it, moments when I’ve gotten angry, moments when I’ve cried — alone and in front of everyone, and lots of moments on my knees praying.

It’s in my weakest moments that I begin to doubt myself. There are days I can barely keep this family together here, let alone in another country. How can a weak child of God show others strength when there are days that I just don’t have any?

The last two days I haven’t felt well. I needed to rest, but I didn’t have time. And the enemy really started to work on me. Telling me over and over that I can’t do this. You can’t do this Holly!!! And I started believing it. And just like many other mornings, God woke me early today to remind me that I can do it.

He brought me to Luke chapter five. The calling of the first disciples. It was Simon Peter. Jesus got into their boats and told them to throw their nets in the deep water. Peter told Him that he had worked all night and hadn’t caught a thing, but he will do as he said. When they finally caught fish there was so much that their boat begin to sink. When Peter saw this he fell to his knees saying, “Go away from me Lord, I am a sinful man.” And Jesus said, “don’t be afraid, from now on you will catch men.” And so Simon Peter followed Jesus.

When Jesus calls us to follow Him, He pushes us beyond our comfort and abilities. He calls us into deep water, and sometimes even deeper water. He puts us in places in our lives so that we must completely depend on Him.

A wonderful friend reminded me that I have already stepped out onto the water…and now my job is to keep my eyes upon Him. There are days when the deep water scares me to death…I feel I’m in the the unknown. There will be many days ahead that I will start to sink, but what is so awesome is that I know my God will be there to pick me up.

I believe where we have been and what God has brought us through prepared us for our journey ahead. All I need to do is keep my eyes upon “Him”.

”God doesn’t call people who are qualified. He calls people who are willing, and then He qualifies them.” — Richard Parker

– Holly

By |2014-06-03T02:45:00+00:00June 2nd, 2014|Holly, Journey|1 Comment

House or Home?

I will admit, the last month has been draining for me. I spent many days trying to get our house ready to be sold. Painting, cleaning, and going through our “stuff”. Sarahn was my great little partner who would read to me, sing to me, and help me as I kept busy.

It wasn’t the labor that was hard for me. You see, just nine years ago this May, Doug and I began to build our house. The house we designed and helped build. It was our dream house. The house in which we dreamed we would see our kids grow up and in the one we would grow old. It is the house that we believe God had blessed us with.

There were days that I cried while I painted. I struggled with the thought of letting go of our house. When you buy or build a house out of love, it becomes your home. A safe place where your family can live, grow up, and make memories. First steps, first birthdays, first days of school, first bike rides, and much more.

It is one of the material things in the world that I think God is OK with, as long as you use it for Him. Our home has not just been a blessing to us, we believe God has used it for many more reasons. I started babysitting three beautiful girls and out of that came a friendship with a family that will be friends forever, we had countless WELL group (small group) gatherings, and many get-togethers with our friends and family — including some crazy, loud New Year’s parties. We refereed many kid sleepovers, opened up our home to a close friend and her two kids for an entire summer, hosted a family of seven from Guatemala for two weeks, made great memories with Doug’s brother and his family while they stayed with us, took in Safe Family kids that needed a home — which include a little boy that has captured our heart, and recently added three kids to our family for a week while our friends traveled overseas to meet the children they are adopting.

In this season of our life, God has provided us this house. All I know is that, Yes, I am sad to leave this house because it is our home, but the memories are in our hearts and they will stay with us no matter where we journey. As we transition into the next season of life, we know He has already picked out a new house that will fulfill His plans for us and He will make it our new home.

I leave you with some insightful thoughts from King Solomon in Ecclesiastes.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
A time to plant and a time to uproot,
A time to tear down and a time to build,
A time to weep and a time to laugh,
A time to tear down and a time to build,
A time to weep and a time to laugh,
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
A time to embrace and a time to refrain,
A time to keep and a time to throw away,
A time to tear and a time to mend.

Parts taken from Ecclesiastes 3:1-7 – NIV

Blessings,

Holly Harrold

By |2014-04-06T18:54:32+00:00April 6th, 2014|Holly, Journey|2 Comments

Our Journey

It was four years ago that Doug came to me and told me he felt God was leading our family to Guatemala.  I will admit to you, I laughed at him.  First of all, a person with a chronic illness move to a third world country?  Second, take my family to Guatemala and disrupt our comfortable life, close by to all of our family and friends.  Everything we believed we needed was right here.

Why would we do that?  Doug didn’t tell me at the time, but he began to pray that God would either change his heart or open my eyes.  He didn’t say anymore to me, but I could see him struggling.  I refused to even pray about it because I thought he was crazy.  Don’t get me wrong, I love Guatemala and we do have family there, but to live there…no way.  I was comfortable visiting once or twice a year and sending money whenever it was needed.

We can do what God wants us to do from right here..safe in my comfortable world.  And so, in time, I began to pray.  And God began to open my eyes and heart.  I eventually realized God wanted us in Guatemala, but I was scared to death.

Before our trip in the summer of 2013, I made a deal with God.  Yes, I know that sounds crazy, but I told Him that I needed to see Him on this trip.

Our very first morning there, I woke up early and was reading my bible and He led me to Genesis 28:15 : “I am with you and will watch over you where you go and I will bring you back to this land.  I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”  And at that very moment, God opened my heart and took away my fears and showed me where He wanted our family : where He is with us, and He will watch over us and He will NOT leave us because we are here for Him.  To show the people Him, to offer them hope and to show them love…God’s love for them.

I won’t lie, the enemy continues to work on me.  He is constantly trying to put doubt in my mind.  But what is so awesome is that my God continues to be my refuge and He drives out the enemy saying “destroy him!”

I look back and our at our lives and see this beautiful journey that God has graciously let us be part of.  How faithful He has been and how faithful He will continue to be.  His journey for us is so far from over and all I can say is “Wow!”

As the journey continues,

Holly Harrold

By |2020-11-01T14:54:34+00:00March 22nd, 2014|Holly, Journey|2 Comments