One Year

One year. One year of growth, challenge, joys, and struggles. One year of perspectives changed, minds opened, thoughts restructured, change from the inside out. One year of new experiences, faith challenged, love deepened, lessons learned, relationships built. 

How has it already been a year? 

Lately I’ve had so many moments where for a few seconds it hits me hard the reality that I’m actually living in Guatemala. Moments where I’m walking down the street and I realize how abnormal my life is, yet how absolutely beautiful it is to be going through all that I am. Moments of seeing things for the first time again, like it was my first trip here, long after those things have become second nature, just a part of daily life. 

People often ask me how the transition is when I go back and forth from here to the United States. The easiest way to explain it is this—Guatemala and the U.S. are two completely different worlds, yet both are completely normal to me. It’s as if I’ve been able to compartmentalize them in my mind, and I can switch back and forth without any difficulty at all. Does it mean I’ve become desensitized to the contrast? Quite possibly yes. But when you become immersed in the culture, when you build relationships with people in the community and experience life with them, the contrast doesn’t feel quite as extreme. You’re no longer looking at this world that seems so foreign and distant. You’re looking in the eyes of real people, just like you and me, sharing in laughter with them, listening to their struggles, and you realize that the differences are quite minimal. We’re all just living this life in the best way that we can, in whatever circumstances we find ourselves. 

This year has been hard. I’ve struggled with feelings of loneliness, self-doubt, rejection, and isolation. They don’t come often, but there are certainly days when I just want to come home, because I know it will be easy and comfortable. But I know it’s not time yet, I know God is still working in me and through me here. My purpose is still here right now, and I will follow where he leads. He is faithful. He is strong where I am weak.

About 6 months ago, I was still struggling to find a solid support system here, and I knew I needed a strong support system in order to make my life here sustainable. We can’t do this alone. I had been praying and praying for God to send me a friend, someone who really understood me, someone to confide in. In my prayer, I of course was intending for this friend to be a fellow missionary, even if I wasn’t asking for it directly. But God wanted to show me something else. There was a weekend where two Guatemalan friends invited me out to dinner with them, and the following day another Guatemalan friend invited me to her home to have lunch with her family. I hadn’t been spending a lot of time with the Guatemalans outside of working together in the children’s homes, so this weekend was far from normal for me. It was while I was sitting around my friend’s kitchen table, sharing in life with her family, that it hit me—my community is in the Guatemalans. I had been searching and searching for my community in the fellow missionaries, but it just wasn’t quite clicking. The Lord showed me that day that my community, my support system, had been there the entire time, I was just looking in the wrong place. My mindset shifted that day, and I began investing more and more in the Guatemalans I was interacting with on a daily basis. And those have become some of my strongest friendships here. Sure, we can’t always understand each other 100% of the time with my broken Spanish, but sometimes you don’t need to. You just need to know that you’re in this together, that you’ll support one another, that you’re willing to give your time to listen. Sometimes more can be said in a hug, in a smile, in an embrace, than can be said in words. I have been so surprised by how much my Guatemalan friends have opened up to me. They’ve shared stories of loss, of broken relationships, of financial strain, of daily struggles, and of desires to make the journey to the U.S. in search of a better life. They’ve sat on my couch and we’ve cried together, because this life is not easy. Their daily challenges are unbelievable, and yet they’re still the most hardworking, resilient, joyful, and grateful people I’ve ever encountered. God answered my prayer that weekend, and not long after, he answered my prayer again, in the way I had initially intended, by sending me a friend from Canada who became another strong support system for me during her 4 months here (Love and miss you, Sarah!). He is faithful and he is good. 

I’ve been reflecting a lot on my impact over the last year. Have I done enough? Could I have done more? How much progress have the kids made in their therapy? Have I reached enough people? But these aren’t the right questions to be asking. A wise friend recently told me “The ripples of love you send into the world are your legacy. Not the fate of one child. How much richer has that child's life been as the result of your presence.” So really the question is, have I loved well? And I believe the answer is yes. When I came here there was one thing I was sure of—that I could love well. And I am confident that I have done just that. 

I’ve learned and grown and changed so much over the last year. I’ve learned a depth of love that I had never before experienced, and this has been the greatest reward of my time here. I’ve learned to never stop advocating for the kids—build the connections, find the resources, make the time, and never stop fighting to provide quality care. It’s within reach, if you’re only willing to put in the effort. I’ve learned to recognize my limitations, to know when something is outside of my scope, outside of my expertise, to refer to the right professional who has the answers. We don’t have to know it all. And in this environment, they look to you as if you know everything, because you have an education or because you come from the States. Don’t let that affect your ego, be humble in knowing you don’t know it all, and that’s okay. I’ve learned how to be comfortable being uncomfortable. I was walking down the street a few weeks ago with a Guatemalan friend, and he looked over at me and said, “have you realized that everyone looks at you for 3 seconds longer than is normal?” I laughed and said yes, yes I have. I’m a tall gringa living in an indigenous community, I know I stand out, but it doesn't phase me anymore. I’ve become comfortable making a million mistakes in my Spanish, because that’s how you learn, how you improve. Thank goodness the people of Guatemala are kind and forgiving and patient. I’ve become much more emotional since being here. Experiences touch my deeply, and it’s easy for me to be brought to tears. I’ve seen babies born and I’ve seen children moments before they take their last breath. And I realize that this entire life in and of itself is a miracle. It’s all so beautiful, even in the pain. I’ve learned that it’s okay to not be okay at times. We don’t always have to have it all together. Let yourself have the breakdown you’ve been holding in, you’ll come out stronger and more at peace because of it. I’ve learned to rely even more on the Lord, to put it in hands, to let go of thinking I have control of everything.

This has been a year that has affected me greatly, that surely has changed the course of my life. And I am deeply grateful for it. I think I could talk forever, and it still wouldn’t be able to fully capture what this year has been for me. Instead, I’ll share some pictures of my favorite moments, because they often say more than words can.

I can’t express enough my gratitude for you all who have supported me, encouraged me, and loved me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Please pray for me as I begin year two. 

Much love, 

Lindsey

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Amigos – the people who are in this with me day in and day out, who bring so much joy and laughter into my life. I love you all. Gracias por todo. (So many not pictured)

   

 

The kids – the reason I stay, because my heart is with them. How I adore each and every one of them and their personalities and quirks.

Kevin’s transformation – this child has a special place in my heart. He was the first child to come to the home after my arrival. His first full day here I spent with him in my arms, just holding him and loving him after months of neglect. His transformation over the last 11 months has been incredible.

Jarred’s success story – Jarred was reunited with his mom and as of our last home visit, he is still thriving. It took a long time for me to win this one over. I love how expressive he is, without saying a single word.

Jordi – Another story of transformation. Fear and hesitation marked his face the first month we visited his home to provide therapy, but with each return his smile and laughter become more vibrant and contagious.

Visitors – thank you to family and friends for taking the time to come and experience Guatemala. I hope a piece remains in your heart forever.

             

San Antonio Aguas Calientes – this beautiful Mayan town I live in, with its stunning backdrop.

Lake Atitlan – my place of peace. I could sit in a hammock and listen to the waves all day long.

Volcano Hikes – 4 in the last year. These are my escapes into nature, time to soak in the fresh air, take in everything around me, and forget about life for a moment. There’s so much to be seen, so much to appreciate.

Guatemalan Traditions – Holy Week, Independence Day, Day of all Saints

Antigua – a city of history, architecture, color, and endless places to discover.