The Community of Palmito

Palmito

Because our day had gotten so delayed with the bad roads, we’d already come to estimate we’d be cutting the women’s program in Palmito. There we also had plans to speak with the pastor about the team I’lll be taking in one year from now. As we navigated the route to Palmito, I wasn’t sure whether the roads to Brisas, full of mud, or the roads to Palmito, full of pot holes, was worse. We laughed about it, but Bishop Luis Andres Caicedo managed them like a pro. We laughed as we drove our way there, sharing stories and thoughts along the way. 

It felt like it was taking a really long time… and probably because it did. We came to realize we were lost. As we stopped and Elizabeth would ask for directions, we worked our way backwards. It was the first time navigating this route. Our second time to Palmito this year. As we got into the actual village of Palmito, we paid a man to guide us there on his moto. I am continuously amazed at how it seems these people just know where they are going when there are absolutely zero road names or markings. 

 Per phone call to the Pastor, we assumed we’d be meeting with just him and his wife based on the fact we were pretty much arriving 3 hours late. Inside I was disappointed, but telling myself that it was really fine. That God would use it one way or another and even just sharing time with the Pastor would be good, since I know that returning would provide an encouragement.

I was completely humbled when we arrived and stepped out of the car. Maria grabbed me in a hug and welcomed me with beautiful words, as they ushered us over to their church meeting area. I was brought to tears before we even began the program as there were a whole congregation waiting for us. Convinced and prepared in my mind that we’d not be presenting a program, I was humbled beyond words that the whole community was waiting for us. Elizabeth and I walked to the front so we could do an introduction. Again, I still was not convinced we should even do a message time as they’d already been sitting there for so long. However, they wanted it. And so we presented.  I shared my prepared story/message and at the end, Elizabeth opened it up for questions or comments. I could no longer hold my tears as one of the oldest ladies there stood and shared how she was so thankful that we’d returned to her village and the value that held for her and for them. And that they had prayed for me, for us and had been awaiting us with great joy. Who am I? I am not a unique person in the sense of having a title or degree. I am certainly not famous. I have wrestled my way to this place where I am today and yet they are thanking God for my being there. I am just a simple woman who wants to serve Jesus. I have spent time praying over these meetings, I have spent years asking God to guide me into the woman He wants me to be. I was there to share to them their value simply from things I have been learning myself. And yet once again I was taught of my importance in the kingdom of God. But we don’t know that until we step out of our comfort zone. We can’t know that if we sit on the things we are learning. We cannot discover the depth of our own selves until we get lost in the service of His world. 

The moment in Palmito was transforming for me as well. As I could not hold the tears back, I just let them come, as hard as that sometimes is for me to do in front of others. God totally showed up in that moment in way totally unexpected. When my tears began and I tried to speak through them, Elizabeth had to translate simply because I just could not talk out loud without sobbing like a hysterical fool. Good tears, of course. And in that moment, they started coming forward to hug me. Which only made me cry more. One by one they arrived at the front to thank me, to hug me, to say what it meant to them. This story I am telling right now is not to share about something fantastic I did. I am not anyone special. Every single one of us has gifts that can be used. Every person has worth, has special pieces to offer to this world. 

There’s a song that comes to mind that says in reference to the light that lives within us because of the light of Jesus…”Hide it under a bush, no, I’m going to let it shine!” And I guess I have finally learned to let it shine and stop letting it hide. This light that gave me life and gave me a dream 20 years ago in my heart for the Latin American community is finally getting to shine. It’s a process, like all things in life. But once it begins unfolding, once it begins burning, it is a fire so fierce it brings new life. 

 They kept arriving to me, asking to take photos, wanting to share little pieces of them, then brining their mother or their child to be in the photo with me. It felt unreal. Where I thought we’d have no opportunity to serve became one of the most profound moments of the trip. 

When we left it was dark. A man rode with us for a bit to drive us out and point us the right direction. We drove a bit sharing some, but some in silence too as we took in those moments. And then over dinner we had time to really share about the day. You see, the moments that can seem like the biggest detours (muddy roads, delayed arrivals and getting lost) can often turn into the biggest blessings. I ponder that as I close out this day…. because that applies not to just the trip itself but life application. Sometimes we do not understand the direction or the muddy way we walk through…. but in the end, it can provide the biggest heart change. 

Arroyo Seco

The day was hot and the roads were muddy from a fresh rain. It felt like something out of a movie as we mounted “motos” (In the States we would probably call it a cross between a motorcycle and a dirt bike).  3 of us passengers mounted the 3 bikes as the expert drivers led us down the dirt (or often more like mud) road. 

 We passed through fields of cows, pushed open gates to cross into the next path, and the bikes were expertly maneuvered through the rugged path. I honestly never felt worried as I trusted this expert driver to get me to the location we could only reach by moto. I will say, however, that it was completely amazing that they knew exactly which way to turn or when to go straight when there were no indicators whatsoever. We crossed through streams, passed a few who were finishing bathing (clothed, of course, but that’s what they were there to do), and had to demount once and trudge through the mud so the moto could make it up the slimy path where we would remount and continue. 

The fresh wind in the warm air pushed the hair around my face as I smiled and took in the moment. I was on the first moto, so I was the first to arrive. (I do think I may have gotten the best driver of them all?) he dropped me off at the home in the village of Arroyo Seco to wait for the others. They kindly offered me a chair and I began to chat with them. They welcomed me seemingly without hesitation. 

I thought that this meeting could be a challenge since we arrived late due to bad roads (the normal roads, I am referring to, not even the ones we navigated by moto). We decided to cut a few pieces of the event because of our time, but in the end, taking those pieces out did not make the meeting any less valuable. Each place had its own unique moments and responses, and Arroyo Seco was no different. 

Due to our late arrival being around lunch time, we thought maybe the women may not come, or less of them anyway. But little by little they arrived to the small school room and by the end of the meeting we had over 20. They were patient with me as I am certain I did mess up some of their language, but nonetheless, they were the first group to interact with the message and not be shy to respond to what I was saying. They listened intently. They spoke up at times. And more than anything, they welcomed me into their space as one of their own. I was there to share with them that each of them had value in this world and yet through this journey, these women conitnuously reminded me of my worth. It was a transforming time there in Arroyo Seco. 

To end the meeting, we had a time of prayer in a circle holding hands. That was the only village we did that specifically. We usually closed in prayer, but here we held hands. My bright white skin against their dark skin, weathered from the sun and dirt and hard living conditions. Their smiles and hugs will bring me joy (and tears) forever upon remembering. 

Ending with many hugs and blessings, it was time to part ways. I drank in the sight of this little village once more. The palm tree thatch roofs, the bamboo outer layers to the home, the 9 people in one (small) home who first welcomed me, and I knew that one day I would return. Because here was once again the presence of God tucked away in the mountains of Colombia in a tiny village that is unknown to most of the world, but to God holds just as much value as the city of millions. 

 We mounted our motos once again and I let the moments sink in as we passed through the green fields, the muddy path, the streams and the cows. 

On the journey back, we had laughs as Elizabeth fell off the moto and me being on the lead moto said to my driver “Well, I think this proves you are the best of all 3 of them!”  As we continued on and the drivers would mystically and professionally manage the paths, knowing when to let their feet down and slow the moto and maneauver it through the mud as well as when to speed up to make it up a hill or stop so I could get off so that we would not crash…. 

 Arroyo Seco now holds a piece of my heart. I had no idea I had so much space for so many of these people. But they just keep showing up and leaving imprints on me. One experience at a time. 

 

 

 

 

 

Running for Kabuki Awareness

I will never participate in a virtual run. I don't believe in them... I am a traditional runner...
  Until Today.

Today I understand why these virtual runs exist and how they can make an impact. But until I allowed myself to get past the words "never" and being stuck in my traditional ways, I did not understand. I want to explain and share the journey of my virtual run.

 I have been running for 10 years now, but I consider myself a traditional runner, even though not an elite or someone making a mark in the event. I am traditional in the sense of doing a race means showing up, participating, finishing, and having a medal and swag. That is all part of the experience. I didn't understand virtual running and have always more or less balked at the idea, being one immersed in the running business. However, that changed recently, and today as I embarked on my first true virtual run, I understood its value.

 I have a friend whose family is impacted directly with a child who has Kabuki Syndrome. That is not a diagnosis I had ever heard of, but now am learning of it more deeply. It's funny how that works- all these "things" that exist that we never know are a thing until we cross paths with it in life and then suddenly, it becomes an awareness. Perhaps we should all live more aware of the "things" that cross our paths, so that we can better understand the stories of the people around us.

Kabuki Syndrome is a diagnosis only 1 in 32,000 people have. It is rare. But it changes the lives of all those it touches. I don't want to write about it a lot here in this blog because I, myself, am learning of it still. But I share this background to explain how I came to believe in a virtual run.

 So many times I want to do something to help people in my life I love. But I don't know how. I have learned that showing support can speak louder than empty words of advice or pushing money to fix an issue. We all just need to know that others care. As I was made aware of Kabuki Syndrome, I began to google it to learn how I could be a better support. I stumbled across the All Things Kabuki website, which was full of information and links. In the process of browsing the site to learn, I found they have a virtual 5K. Because of my love for running, I poked a little further to learn more.

I thought to myself, with my friend living in Colombia who has this interaction of Kabuki on an every day basis, and me being so far, perhaps this would be a way to show my support. So, I emailed the organizers and engaged in a conversation. I learned about the Syndrome and I learned about the event. The idea on their part was that a person registers and in the mail receives a race bib and medal and has to do the participation between Oct 1-31 because Oct. 23 is Kabuki Awareness Day. While my traditional self caved to the idea of participating, I grew excited to share this with my friend(s). Explaining what a virtual run is was hard, explaining my marathon job is always a challenge for me at times to those in another country, but trying to explain a virtual run was even harder mostly because it was my first time to really participate.

But I was growing excited in this endeavor to show a small ounce of support through something I love. (And for once not being the organizer of it!) When my bib and medal arrived, I chose that I would participate today, as my regular Saturday run. Only I would wear the bib.

It felt a little odd, putting on a race bib with no one around. There was no starting line, no flags, no banners, no finish line. No crowds and no hydration. Just me, my headphones, my race gear and my determination to learn more and support my friends. I set out on my run and soon discovered why a virtual run can make a difference.
 As I entered the park, I had people asking me while I jogged past them, "Is there a run today?"
 To which I was able to answer... "No, I'm participating in a virtual run to raise awareness for Kabuki Syndrome."
   To which they would ask "What is that?"
And while I know next to nothing, I was able to share just the small tidbits I was learning. Then they thanked me and we parted ways. But that happened on a few occasions and I began to understand the significance of the virtual event. I encountered at least 3 people today in the park who asked about my bib which lead to sharing about Kabuki Syndrome. That's 3 (4, including me) who now know a little more. Imagine 100 people doing that!

 At first, when the groups said to post photos to Facebook and such for awareness, I thought, "Cool, that will really help draw attention to it."
  But as I ran in a park and people stopped me, I realized the second significance to it. People are curious, but what they don't see or what isn't shared, can't be known. And a virtual run can do that.

 As I ran this event without a start or a finish line, I thought to myself how people struggling with Kabuki Syndrome don't really have a start and finish line. They have a birth and a death, but there isn't likely as many start and end point significances for them. They mostly just shine bright to those around them and change the lives they touch through their joy in spite of a syndrome. Maybe they don't even have a huge awareness of being different. I don't really know because I am really just learning about this. We define our days by start and finish. Deadlines. Goal and achievements and failure. I think we can learn a lot from those affected and touched by Kabuki Syndrome. I hope to grow in this way myself.

 In some ways, my run was just an average run. Especially after taking a long pause the last several months in preparations for the Air Force Marathon and putting my own runs on hold for others to experience a great one of their own. Today became a time for me to just enjoy the crisp, fall air. To think about my friends touched by this. To pray for them. And to maybe make a small difference in some way, whether by support or by learning or both.

 So, as I have come to learn... never say never. Because today I understood why a virtual run can have a large impact and significance. And maybe will even begin organizing runs a little differently with this mindset gained.

 Kabuki Syndrome is real. The least I could do was use an ability I have and enjoy to reach even a few people about it.
 #AllThingsKabuki
 #Purpose
#Runtoraiseawareness

The Little Things

Many months have passed since I've taken time to write here about the little things of life.
  Those moments that create a mental picture in the memory that weeks later will bring a smile to my face. It is important to slow down and recognize those, no matter how chaotic life can get. As I sit on the patio, taking a few moments to be still this morning after a very busy week, entering into an even busier one, I just want to recognize those moments...

 ~ a gentle breeze, tickling my skin underneath the blue sky, refreshing my soul

 ~ the sound of cicadas in the yard... the beautiful sound of summer. Oh, how I wish time would slow down some moments so I could just drink in this one moment and recall it in the days of chaos.

 ~ A bike ride with the sunrise. Even if not a leisurely one, nonetheless it is a time that still finds joy and smiles and laughs and the beauty of God all around. (And a humble reminder that it is good to do exercises other than running, that my body needs more sometimes)

 ~ I love people. I enjoy talking and listening. I like conversations and laughter. I enjoy the presence of others around me. But I also have learned who the solid few are in my circle at all times. And I am thankful for that handful of friends. Those who stick by me, believe in me, encourage me and knock me over the head when I need it.

 ~ Good books. I have enjoyed this summer having time to read.


 ~ moments with my kids. More than ever, I recognize how my time with them is rapidly disappearing. I am taking advantage of soaking up those moments a little more lately.


 These are just a few of the little things through the week. What were yours? Did you take time to see them in the midst of your busy schedule? I'm re-learning to do that.

Why Not Me?

"The craziest thing we can do is nothing." -Charity: Water

 Two weeks ago I celebrated my 37th birthday. I had a very nice day, but being the person I am, milestone days such as that always create a time for me to pause and reflect on the prior year and the year going forward. Writing feels like it became a lost art in the midst of a busy time of life, and when I was recently challenged to do something that makes me happy every day for the next 6 weeks, I chose to bring writing back into the mix. It's not the only thing I chose, so I won't write every day, but you may see me pop up here in the next few weeks a little more often.

 For my birthday, my daughter took me book shopping and out for coffee. Three of my favorite things: being with her, finding a book, and enjoying coffee. My days with her are fleeing, as she goes into her Senior year. We laughed, we spent a few hours (literally) browsing books, getting excited and narrowing them down to a couple. It was a special time. The book I chose was called Thirst, which is about a man who formed a charity. I highly encourage the read of the book, as his story is compelling and inspiring. I won't retell his story here, but it brought thoughts into my mind's process of life as it stands today.

 His charity is the one who coined the phrase "The craziest thing we can do is nothing." I kind of fell in love with that phrase. Now, doing nothing sometimes is a good idea- to slow down, to rest, to take in the moments. I don't think he was meaning to say always be busy. The point is that when we see a need, doing nothing about it is crazy. If we aren't here to help others, to offer a hand when someone is down, to say an encouraging word, to love the hurting, to buy someone coffee and just listen, to bring laughs instead of anger, to give a hug.... then why? The craziest thing we can do is nothing...

  Something that has been said to me before is "Why does it have to be you?" My response is... "Why NOT me?"  I am not rich. I am not famous. I do not have a million hours to give. I am one person in the scheme of billions on this planet. But why not me?  God takes the most broken, the most beat up stories often and uses them for multiplying His kingdom through love. Why not me? I get crazy ideas often. It usually  happens when I am out running, clearing my head, moving slowly, but just letting the thoughts flow. Not every idea is a good one, but if I simply said "Nah... not me..." I would not be who I am.

 I've also been learning that sometimes the best Yes we get is actually a No... but that can be very hard to accept. However,  a "no" doesn't mean walk away. A "no" can mean knock on another door. Don't give up. Keep going. And through the process, learn. Through the process, grow. And keep going. Keep being you. A no can mean a yes to a greater opportunity. I've seen that, I'm learning that. I am applying that in several ways.

 I chose the word Purpose at the beginning on 2019 and I don't think I've ever felt more impact from a word reiterating itself to me all year long. I am reminded who I am. As I can at times be told no, I recall I have a greater purpose and I carry on with that, one step at a time.

 Through this last year, moments I have not blogged include a solo trip to Colombia, which was the most impactful ever, graduating with my associates (and soon to enter my bachelor degree pursuit), trips to various new locations, and I've gained new friends. I have done tasks in my job to be honest no one will ever know I did, I have faced ugly confrontations that brought out a side to me I didn't know I had, and I have learned to say no - (saying it can be as hard as accepting it at times). I have learned the value of true friendship.

 I have new crazy ideas brewing, which include the start up of a non-profit foundation (which was born in my head nearly a year ago, I said no several times, but now we are in pursuit of doing it... hence I say No sometimes is just a redirection to a new Yes).

 I want to close by telling a story. Bear with me. It is significant, I promise.

 You all know Colombia is dear to me. In March 2019 I made a trip there solo. It changed my life, even more than I already had been. We traveled to 16 communities. I listened. I asked questions. I learned. When I came home, a foundation I had worked with going into the trip bought several bags from the Indigenous tribe, the Zenú. When I delivered the bags, the founder told me of a project my church was launching into (that I had not learned of at that point) to pack boxes of dry meals that get shipped to people in need. Long story short, my church agreed to pack those meals to be sent to Colombia, something the organization has never done.
  My church packed 40,797 meals! I was blown away.

 Next, it was my task to figure out the shipping. It was going to cost $5,000 to ship it in containers. That felt daunting, but not impossible. I began conversations. Through an accidental mentioning, I got the crazy idea to ask a contact in the Air Force if there were any planes going to Colombia. I knew it was far-fetched. But I asked. And through that, I got a YES! There is a program that exists to do such shipments. Well, through that, the foundation learned of it, and had un-designated meals in their warehouse, and decided to add to what we had packed... and through that, we now will send 285,000 meals to Colombia! It is incredible!!

 Now, we have run into some hiccups with the paperwork on the Colombian side, but I am not giving up. That is not uncommon to happen. A "no" can just be a redirection. Through this redirection, I have met others doing work in Colombia. Through meeting those others, more forces can be joined together to create a difference. We aren't there yet with our final solution, but I do have faith it is within reach...

 So, my friend, the craziest thing I can do is nothing. What if I hadn't gone to Colombia? What if my church didn't pack food? What if I didn't ask the Air Force about taking it in? What if....

 I don't share this story to say "Yay, Rachael!" In fact, I hesitated to share it. But I share it because I am learning that stepping out of our comfort zones, pushing through hard changes, making asks, risking "no"... those are applications to make this next year. And maybe the story will inspire or encourage you to do the same.

  So, Why Not me? May this year be my craziest year yet!  

Purpose...Step by Step

Step by step, life is a process.
 That has been a theme and a revolving conversation of mine recently. A lesson that I am drinking in and embracing.

 The reality is that I could write a book from the experiences that I have had this year alone, and this blog today isn't the most stand out moment of all of them, but perhaps it is easier to find words to describe this one, so I share...

 For 2019, I chose the word PURPOSE as my word. I want to live with purpose in everything I do. I want to discover my purpose and fulfill it every day to the best of my ability through God's grace. I am a mom, yes. I am a wife, of course. I work a job. But I do believe that each person has a calling for something special in life, that can go hand in hand with all of those parts of life, but is unique to the gifts God gives each individual.
 So for 2019, I have been working to make decisions with purpose (with lots of prayer).

  The reality is I could make this very long (shocker, I know!) but today I write to share about my race experience. Bear with me please. Purpose does build into this story.

 I have now been running for 10 years. 10 years ago I completed my first half marathon and have never turned back since. The sport became one that helped me realize I can do more than I thought possible, I can accomplish goals I once thought "never", and I am more than what others say or what I may think of myself. Running isn't something magical, but it is definitely a part of my life that has helped me.
  Running has helped me grieve the loss of my mom. Running has taught me that I am capable. Running has helped me get out of bed on days when depression wanted to keep me under the covers. Running gave me goals and taught me that sometimes a goal isn't always about reaching the exact goal, but is often times more about what you learn along the way. Running has helped me raise $20,000+ in scholarships in memory of my mom and $8,000+ (so far) in donations for keeping the clinic open in Colombia. Running pushes me to continue being a better me.

 Over the last year and a half, I never quit running, but I had to make other areas of life a stronger priority. That means I have not done a half marathon for over a year and a half. Yes, I did other smaller races, but for me, a half marathon is the distance that pushes my limits beyond what feel capable. So for me, the half marathon, while I may curse it along the route at times, is my favorite. It is HARD for me. Running isn't natural, I have to work at it. I have never been and never will be a fast runner. I have run many races across several states (though many to go!) and met many people.

 Well, I share all of this to say that for the first time since October 2017 I completed a half marathon again. And I want to share about the experience. For me, many times the training process is what has taught me in the end about myself. But, I have to say as part of this blog, that my training was, well, a lack of training. While I know everything one should be doing to be a good runner (I know how to train, I know  the nutrition, I know about hydration....) I was the perfect example of not doing those things.

 When I chose my word Purpose for the year, I decided that I wanted to get back to running some races. It isn't because running is my purpose. But through running, I tend to discover more of my purpose because of what I learn through it. Also, it is being purposeful in my health when I stick to my running.
   I knew that this winter was going to be a bit nutty for me as I was in 3 classes, had travel for work, travel for Colombia among other things. But I was determined. So I chose a race that fit into life's schedule and set out to prepare for that race.
 Well, let me be honest. Winter happened and there was a part of me that just struggled to get outside in the cold. I did it, but I did not do it well. Taking 3 classes may not seem like a big deal, but for me it was definitely more difficult than 2. (But I was on a path to graduate and did not want to deter that.)
Life in general happened and priorities overcame miles many times.  Long story short, I didn't train well but I still wanted to do this race.

 Why did I want to?

 This race represented purpose for me. Why? Because this race symbolized something for me that possibly only me and God are going to understand, but it was a race I needed to do. Let me explain.
   This race was very hard for me. In part because I didn't train so well. In part because in the midst of these months of choosing purpose for my word, I have confronted doubts and naysayers and hard moments that have created questions inside me, but I continue to pray, to search those out and to push forward. This race symbolized that for me. Because this race was hard and I didn't give up.
 This race symbolized for me the journey I have been on the last 3 years going towards my associates degree and the fact that it has been a step by step process, which is exactly what a race is... one step at a time... and that next weekend I will walk across the stage and obtain my associates degree! For me that is a huge deal!
  This race symbolized that putting the mind to something, with the strength of Christ even at my weakest moments, one step at at time ... with HIs leading... all things are truly possible!
  This race symbolized for me purpose, not because running is my purpose, but because it represented the determination it takes to follow after purpose. But even more so for me, it represented that when I am weak, HE is strong. And that is where the greatest purpose comes from.

 Let me tell you a few words about this race.... and then I'll wrap up my long-winded story of the journey of this half marathon.

 I got up at 2:30 am to go to this race because it was a 2.5 hour drive.
  My friend, Brenda, and I have been in this journey together in our own ways. She's a super cool gal, and we met through the YMCA. We chit chat at the gym, she has supported my endeavors through schooling and my dreams on the horizon and we discuss fitness goals and food. So, Brenda signed up to do this race with me. She was aiming for a PR....
  Like 2 crazy gals, we set out on the road at 3:30 am.

Me.... I'd forgotten my cup of coffee I'd prepared, but oh well. She was with her chest cold that had come on. But we were both determined to do this and to have fun.

 It was raining the entire drive, although it didn't show on the forecast, and that was not an exciting thing, as it was April 28 and 40 degrees! BRR.

 Well, we got there fine and I could not find my headphones in the car at all (yes I am a runner who uses music to get through...) which was incredibly frustrating, but I decided that perhaps that was meant to be. Perhaps praying through the miles was part of the purpose of this race. So I moved on from that frustration.

 We arrived to our corral and off we went. I won't take you through every mile of the race. Brenda and I would run bits together. I felt pretty decent, but I knew it was going to be hard and I would struggle further in. Well, miles 7 and 8 Brenda and I were together much of the race.
 I was spending each mile praying about something specific in my heart, which helped pass the moments of the event as well.

 At mile 9, Brenda kept going, but I was losing steam. I have learned my limits. So I knew to listen to my body. I didn't quit, but it was tough. Miles 10 and 11 my stomach wasn't so hot and so I knew to slow down or I was going to vomit. I am one who pushes myself, so slowing down is painful emotionally for me, but I knew it was necessary. And honestly my goal in this event was to finish, not to get some superb finish time. My goal was about the journey of pushing through the hard and the hurt to find the finish line (literally of a race, metaphorically of graduation, of goals, of dreams...)
  Admitedly, at mile 11 I was semi-dehydrated. Rookie mistakes here, people, but I am being honest. And annoyingly the race had run out of cups. But I was in need of the water, so when I hit the next station, I cupped my hands and let them pour water from the pitcher into them so I could drink. Seriously silly rookie moment, but hey, part of the experience. As a race organizer, perhaps kind of annoying they were out of cups, but I pressed on.... My goal was to not have my worst finish time ever (which would simply be my time against my very first half marathon)
   And in the end I did beat that time, so I was happy....

 Brenda PR'd and I was super proud of her for that.

 And finishing this race made me happy. I can't explain it fully, but sometimes the experiences are so personal, so deep, that no one else is going to get them. It felt good to finish that race. And the representation of what it means to me will forever stand strong.

 It wasn't about my end time. It wasn't about the race itself. It was about the representation of one step at a time, goals can be accomplished and life has to often be looked at in baby steps. If I looked at mile 13 when I was at mile 1, it would have been a bit discouraging. But in steps, it became accomplishable. If I looked at my college degree taking 3 years (well, with still 2 more to go) I would probably feel like quitting, but here I stand about to receive that associates degree in less than a week. It was about pushing through the hard to reach the goal. It was about knowing inside of me, more exists than what others can see or understand. And (especiallly without my headphones) it was about purpose in my journey and walking with God and talking with Him about those next steps and being grateful for how far the past steps have brought me.

 Much of our life events, our successes or even failures, our goals, are about walking through a process. It is not fast. But it is purposeful....
 One step at at time....

2018 Colombian Adventures

This year I was blessed to travel to Colombia twice and get the additional experience of translating for 2 of my Colombian friends when they were in the US for a missions conference. 

 My experiences in Colombia have been life-changing. 20 years ago I felt a deep desire to serve God with Spanish speaking skills in a Latin American country. It has come full circle, and it looks different than I had envisioned as a 16 year old girl, but that's what makes God so awesome. 

 

Things take time... Our plans are not always His. I'd abandoned that dream and here He had a plan all along. I love being able to see that. 

 I have a difficult time summing up into adequate words what it is that my Colombian travels have taught me. Each trip grows me in new ways. I have found some of my closest friends in life, even though separated by miles. I have been challenged in my faith. I have learned how to speak the language better and I have a hundred + stories of ways I have seen God move. How can I place here the lessons these beautiful people, this rich culture have taught me? It's a challenge. Here are a few from this year....

 - Relationships are so much more important than things. 

    One thing I have noticed strongly of them in this year is that they don't speak poorly of one another. They would have every reason to be frustrated or angry just as much as we, here, get frustrated with our family or friends. Only I noticed the significant difference in how they respond. They cautiously word themselves. They even will often say "I don't want to damage anyone...."  

 I have thought on that a lot because I feel like here petty gossip is found in every corner. I know as hard as I try, I am guilty of this at times. In discussing this, I think that it boils down to they are a people who value people. Relationships are everything to them. To damage a person, even if that person has hurt them, is the last thing they want to do. People matter. Things don't. Whatever upsets them isn't worth tarnishing the other person in the process. That's beautiful. Are they perfect? No... but on more than one occasion, I saw this take place and it did not go unnoticed. It has challenged me. 

 

 - Happiness is not based on money, materials or location

   Now, the Colombians have been teaching me this since day 1. I have watched them live off nothing. But the more I've been able to develop my relationships with them, the more I see this. The more I ask questions and learn about their culture, the more I see the "material" poverty they truly experience. I realize just how little they have. Most of my friends there can fit all their belongings into one suitcase. The majority of them live off dollars... A MONTH! Not a day, but a month. Many of them have moved once or twice. But more times than I can count, they are telling me "God will provide... God is good." They are full of joy. Yes, they have hurts and frustrations, too, don't get me wrong. But in the midst of those, they laugh, they smile, they may cry but they soon pick themselves up and say "God's got this." I am not sure this lesson will ever cease to speak to me. It's beautiful and humbling. And challenges me all the time. I have ZERO reason to be complaining. 

 Yes, life here is different so the struggles are different. But they teach me perspective every day. I am lucky enough to get to speak with them each day and they are forever reshaping my views in good ways. Reminding me I'm loved and blessed. Reminding me of what is important

 - Laugh often

 I cry a lot, I admit. Crying expresses my hurts, my anger, my sadness, and my joy. So, yes, I cry often. But they laugh a lot. And it is contagious. I could be having the worst of days and get a call or message from them and their laughter is contagious. I want to laugh more. I want to shine that same joy that they have taught me. Besides the times with my mom in the past and the moments I get with my sister, I don't laugh as hard as I do when I am with them. Even if it has meant laughing at my own self. 

  I have learned so much from them, there are no adequate words. Live life to its fullest. In the bad and in the good, live life every day. Take chances. Say yes. Serve Jesus. Sing songs. Dance. Cry. Live life in whatever capacity is possible. Life is found in the moments, not in the materials. I knew this. But it reshaped in new ways. Meanwhile, I am asking hundreds of questions to better understand their culture and not impose mine. I am listening as much as they are willing to share. I am soaking in new perspectives that really remind me how blessed I am. I have struggles, yes. I fight depression, yes. But I do have so many blessings. They don't quit when they so easily could. Neither will I. What will a new year bring, people are asking? 365 opportunities. 

 They live that. I want to as well. 

   And hopefully I can teach that to those around me.