"She has problems with her Spanish." (Yes this was actually said aloud, though it sounds much harsher in English.) I was in the middle of nowhere Honduras, sitting at a table in the escuela surrounded by 9 professional Honduran educators barely keeping up with the pinball rapidity of conversation as they tore apart my verbal and written Spanish presentation of the library and special ed. I could've so easily panicked (and I did a little). I could've so easily burst into tears (and I did later). But in the midst of the chaos I looked across the room at Megan pointing to her eye, then to her heart, then to me. I looked down at my phone and Ryan had sent an encouraging message. And I looked to my right as Nohemi advocated for me in her fluency and grace. Moments like this can consume you. Moments when you're literally torn down, stripped, humiliated, vulnerable. That's why doing something this hard and weird and different, like being a missionary at a chil
Just a young woman navigating the way of the world one prayer at a time.