Colombia: Through my eyes (Day 4)

July 26, 2011

Barranquilla, Colombia

Today was our last day of VBS at the project in Barranquilla. In the morning we did the music (which was much improved!) and the puppets, and then games and crafts. After VBS, we served the children almuerza. IT was one of the first times here that I have felt like I am really serving the children here. They are just so generous and loving, it seemed to make everything I did look pale in comparison. We were supposed to do an afternoon VBS also, but of course, as is the case with mission trips, our plans changed and we ended up dividing into teams that would paint or plant. Only they didn’t have enough shovels or paintbrushes or scrapers so most of us got to clean up the center and then love on the kids some more. 

Painting the doors of the center

 There were so many memorable moments today. One girl sat down next to me during the puppet show and played with my hair the entire time. She told me in Spanish that my hair was muy bonita and I was, too. It’s hard to explain how such a simple gesture meant so much to me.

My little friend watching the puppet show while playing with my hair.

 I spent some time using paintings on the wall to teach a group of children English. I would point and say, “En Espanol, arbol. En ingles, tree.” That was how I got a lot of communication done. The kids taught me a few words in Spanish, too, and would laugh when I said one of their words in my American accent. It was so cool because all of the children were so eager to learn English. They would repeat the English word once or twice slowly and quietly, but by the third or forth time they would practically be yelling.

Serving the kids snacks!

Also, before the children left in the afternoon, they all stood at the front of the room holding English letters that represented a blessing they prepared for us. Each child said the word in Spanish and it was then translated to English. After that, they brought us gifts they’d made themselves. Keychains made of traditional Colombian materials, wind chimes made of coconuts, shells, and beads, even some huge painted conch shells. The director told us that the children had been working on these gifts for two weeks. It was such a wonderful gesture.

Making the Salvation Story necklace

Daniel came back to Bible school again and found me first thing in the morning. I couldn’t believe he remembered me, let alone my name. He stayed by my side again the entire day. He even brought me a keychain he had made. I already had a gift from one of the other children, but he wouldn’t give the gift to anyone else. I cried when he hugged me. He did NOT want to let go, and neither did I. Then he actually went home (I found out later that he lived close to 3 miles away), got his mom, and brought her back to the center to meet me. I felt so special. I couldn’t understand everything that she said, other than thank you and she asked me to pray for Daniel because he has to get some kind of surgery done. Then she hugged and kissed me and they left. I knew I would never see Daniel again, but I pray that God used me to make an impact on this child. I cried quite a few times today. If only I could take little Daniel-and all the other children here-home! But even though good-bye was hard, I felt some comfort in the fact that while these children had little in the way of material possessions, they were loved and cared for.

Daniel is the one sitting on my lap

After leaving Barranquilla, we headed to Cartagena. Sometime during the 2 hour drive, I started feeling a little nauseous and had a pretty bad headache. I feel a bit better now, but for most of the evening I have been sick. I ate un poco comida at dinner, even though it looked delicious. I’m thinking maybe I’m dehydrated, or maybe it was something I ate, so I’m just going to not eat too much the next few days and drink more water.

And speaking of that, the water at our new hotel just went out. So much for my am shower. Haha. We just got back from praise and worship on the beach (which was amazing!) and the water quit working. It’s supposed to be back on tomorrow at 2 pm. Good thing we’re all still wearing our “be flexible” bands! :)

From Jess, with love

always

whitewater in Wisconsin

I am taking a little time-out from my mission trip journals to share another Deb-and-Jess Summer Adventure. My mom and I spent this weekend in Langlade Co, Wisconsin at the Bear Paw Resort to take a 3-day course on whitewater kayaking. Of course, whitewater kayaking sounds like it would be incredibly fun. So I was very excited about this trip.

Except for this tiny bad habit I have. Which is not trying anything that I don’t think I will be good at. Now I don’t necessarily have to be the best at everything, but I don’t like to do things that don’t come naturally to me. There’s quite a long list of these things…skiing, ice-skating, basketball, rollerblading, to name a few. Learning to ski (but not really) last winter was a humiliating experience. So as much as I was looking forward to this trip, I was really hoping that I wouldn’t have to add whitewater kayaking to the list of activities just not meant for me.

And luckily I didn’t. We had some excellent instructors. If you ever have a desire to become an expert whitewater kayaker, the 10-hour drive to Bear Paw is worth it. Not that I am writing a testimonial here or anything, but really, the location is beautiful, the staff is friendly and hardworking, and the food is awesome.

 

As per usual on great outdoor adventures with my mother, we had quite a few interesting experiences over the course of 5 days. First, of course, was the ‘getting there’ part. My family has this fascination with barns, and it’s Wisconsin, so there are like, thousands of them, and it was hard not to stop at every one. We made several picture-worthy detours, purchased some raspberries from a roadside stand (which were devoured in less than 3 minutes), and strolled through the town of Wittenberg, known for its murals. There were a total of 10, and we captured them all. And we almost stopped at a rabbitry, just to see if that was really a rabbit farm. The phrase was new to us. I mean, honestly, I didn’t know what else it could be, but would “Rabbit Farm” not suffice? These must have been first-class rabbits. Of high pedigree. They probably lived in their own little cabins with rabbit-sized beds and tables and chairs and at cooked carrots three times a day. Or something like that. 

When we got to the Bear Paw, we checked in and headed to our cabin. I am by no means a camping snob, and can tent-camp with the rest of ‘em, but I guess I just wasn’t expecting our little cabin to be so…..well, little. As we were driving past the other cabins, I was like, “Uh, Mom, I think those cabins are bigger than ours.” And my mom, the eternal optimist, replied, “No. I’m pretty sure ours is the same size.” I didn’t believe her. Especially considering that the other cabins had names like Griz, Black Bear, Brown Bear, Polar Bear, Panda, and we were in the….Teddy Bear. The cabins were all apparently named relative to the size of said bear species. However, when we found out our cabin was one of the 3 objects on site to survive an F4 tornado in 2007, I was very impressed.

Supposedly there weren’t many bears in our area. But with the names of the cabins and the other businesses around us, I wasn’t convinced. Sugar Bear, Bear Claw Lake, The Bear Den, Cub’s Pub, Grizzly Grill, and Bear Paw itself? Kind of misleading, in my opinion. :) We made it through the whole weekend without a single bear sighting, although I may have set off a few false alarms. haha

Then there came the actual kayaking adventures. We spent part of day one on a lake. The first thing we learned to do? Flip over in our kayaks, remove a nylon skirt holding us in, and push the kayak away from us….all while underwater. Luckily I love water, so that wasn’t the scary part. It wasn’t even difficult, actually. Then we learned how to flip over, bang on the bottom of our kayaks to get someone’s attention, and then wait for another kayak to ram into us so we could grab the top of their kayak and right ourselves. Depending on who your rescuer was, this could be scary, I guess. :) After that we practiced a million different kinds of strokes to use while on the river. While all of the strokes were relatively easy, I just had a hard time paddling in a straight line. lol

Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise…whitewater kayaking, unlike the recreational lake variety, takes skill and strength. You have to use a lot of muscles that we don’t usually use, and a lot of our natural instincts will actually result in us endangering ourselves. Like leaning away from a boulder when you crash into it will most likely result in you flipping over, hitting your head on the stupid rock, and then being forced to exit the kayak and swim the rest of the rapid. While I never got to experience that part, my poor mother did. Three times, in fact. So just ask her how fun it is. :) I don’t know what was worse for her….the fact that she ended up with some pretty nasty bruises, or the fact that I didn’t flip at all. Haha I actually felt bad for her, but wasn’t too upset about missing out on that part. Although I was told that if I continued this hobby, it would happen sooner rather than later.

After lunch we headed to the Wolf River and I was feeling pretty confident. We were just doing Class 1 and 2 rapids, so nothing too dangerous, mainly practicing our strokes and learning to read the river. I was actually a little scared at first. I could handle flipping in the lake, but the thought of flipping over in rapidly moving water filled with huge boulders was not really appealing to me. My technique was a little rough, but I learned over the next few days that luckily, my natural instincts were unlike everyone else’s, which kept me from turning over in many situations. Because let me tell you what, I was a pro at hitting rocks and getting stuck on them.  And each time it happened in a rapid, I would sort of let out this little “oomph” and brace myself for the water that never came. The second day, we ran a different, more difficult part of the river, close to a Class 3 rapid, and since I was much more comfortable in the kayak, I thought it was awesome. Our instructor even let us run it twice, even though the 2^nd time Mom fell out on the worst part of the rapid. I missed the whole thing, but she did chase after her kayak and paddle and dragged them to shore. Definite cool points for that! :) 

The most frustrating part of the weekend was learning how to roll. It was hard enough for our instructor to demonstrate and explain with hand gestures, so I’m not even going to try to explain it in writing. Basically it involved a series of what I thought were complicated and unnatural movements that you did underwater, with your paddle, to get yourself back to the surface after tipping over. We worked on it for about four hours, but it was incredibly difficult. I found out halfway through that I had somehow missed a vital part of the instruction and was kind of blazing my own trail. So although I may have rolled once sort of by myself, most times I just ended up hanging out upside down with my paddle stuck in the mud. Ironically enough, the move I thought I had invented ended up being very similar to another rolling technique, which our instructor then tried to teach me. He said it suited me better because I had a more fluid, controlled movement, whatever that means. So of course I was like, “Is that a good thing? Or just code for ‘you suck and should give up’? He promised that it was a good thing. haha Unfortunately, this was at the end of our lesson, so I didn’t really get the chance to practice it much. I think Mom and I felt a little better when both of our instructors told us it had taken them almost a year to be able to roll 70% of the time.

All in all, it was a great experience. I thought we didn’t do that bad for novices, and our instructors assured us that they’d had students much worse than us. lol My mother and I are already scouting more rivers to check out now that we passed all of our classes. Although we had a great time, I am glad to be home. Again. NO MORE VACATIONS FOR ME! I am not packing another bag until it’s time to go back to school.

from Jess, with love

always

Colombia: Through my eyes (Day 3)

July 25, 2011

Barranquilla, Colombia

I don’t know how I’m going to be able to recap everything that’s happened since last night. The storm I thought we were having? Turns out it was a power line connected to our hotel that broke and the flashes I thought were lightning was actually sparks from when cars ran over it. Total blackout. Although it isn’t really funny, the most entertaining part was trying to warn innocent passerbys and cars about the live-and sparking- wire in the street. Mostly we just shouted “No!” and “Peligroso!”. It was decided that it would be safer to move to another hotel a few blocks away. Even though everyone was very helpful and accommodating, we didn’t get checked into the new hotel until 11:30, and by that time, I was exhausted.

This morning we split up into dos equipos and my group went to a Compassion Development Center (CDC) in Port de Colombia. The center, though obviously in a very poor area, was relatively nice. We were once again greeted by overjoyed children who took our hands and led us to our seats. They welcomed us with songs and a prayer. Los ninos fue precioso! After a tour of the building given to us by an 8-year-old who spoke confident and clear Spanish, we started our Bible School. Our music bordered on disaster, but the children loved it regardless. They thought the puppets were great. The crafts were a little bit chaotic as well. As wonderful and generous as these kids were, you couldn’t pull out stickers, bubbles, crayons, or nail polish without being swarmed with 20 children. At my craft table, I didn’t have a translator, but I was brave and attempted conversacion con los ninos y sus mamas y papas. I don’t think I did half-bad. One of the translators, Claudia, was impressed even though I had a few misunderstandings.

There was a little boy named Daniel I fell in love with today. He was 6 years old, and if I could have taken him home, I would have. He sat on my lap during the puppet show, and hardly let go of my hand for the rest of the day. At craft time, he asked me what my name was, then wrote it on his craft and tried to give it to me. I was once again amazed by the generosity of these children. It always seems like the people who have the least to give end up giving the most. Daniel wasn’t the only kid to offer the gifts we’d brought for them back to us. Throughout the day, Daniel grabbed two of everything and always tried to give one to me. He even decorated my nametag with stickers. And he did NOT want to leave when it was time to go to games. We would send him outside, and after 5 minutes, he would be back at my side. Telling him good-bye wasn’t easy. He was so sweet. After lunch, we split up into groups and went to visit the families of several children in the program.

Daniel and another little girl during craft time!

 These visits really helped me see how much Compassion International and the sponsors do for these children. Some children were receiving chemo treatments, getting surgeries to fix deformities, other were getting food and clothes, and in some cases I believe the families were receiving assistance also. The family we visited was a mother and father (unusual) and cuatro ninos. The littlest boy, Kevin Jr., took me to his room, which had two small beds the family of 6 shared. He showed me his stuffed animal Bendito, so worn and ragged I couldn’t even tell what animal it was, but you could tell he treasured it. I gathered just from looking around that his only possessions were probably Bendito, a soccer ball, and a blow-up ball. I noticed on the bed the children had laid all of their crafts and gifts from VBS perfectly on their beds. It was funny, because in the US, kids wouldn’t see so much value in paper, stickers, pencils, and bubbles. But you could tell the children would take care of these things for a long, long, time.

The family from our home visit

  Another great experience the past 2 days has been getting to know the Compassion staff in Colombia and our translators. Most of them are close to my age, and they have been an invaluable part of our team. I wish my Spanish was as good as their English! Haha But it is just amazing to see so many young people devoting their lives fully to Christ and the children of Colombia. I have enjoyed learning about their lives, and they have been helping me with my Spanish. I am learning mucho! I will be really sad to leave tomorrow, but several of mis amigos nuevos has offered to teach me Spanish on Skype. So I am excited about that.

Our guides/translators surprised us by taking us to a black sand beach in Barranquilla. It was beautiful. They let us get in and really seemed to enjoy watching us enjoy our surprise. When we got back to the hotel, we headed to un mercado. Viviana, one of our translators, helped me pay for some bracelets in American money and figured out the exchange rate. After that I made some purchases on my own and was kind of proud that I figured things out by myself. I ask Viviana if everything was made in China like it had been in Jamaica. She laughed and said, “Yes, but even though it was made in China, you can say it looks Colombia.” She cracks me up.

After today, I have several pages in my journal filled with pictures drawn by kids and conversaciones y palabras of the translators. My favorite one was with Esteban. I was trying to explain a sand dollar to him, and I ended up having to draw a picture. He said he’s seen them but he calls the galletas de mar- sea cookies. I couldn’t stop laughing!

Today, one of the Compassion staff from the site, a boy probably about my age named Dimos, borrowed my journal from me and asked if he could write a message. We were in a hurry to leave, so I didn’t look at it then and didn’t notice it until just now when I went to turn the page.

Myself, a girl from the team, our translator, and Dimos on the far right.

It’s Jeremiah 29:11. In Spanish. And now I am once again struck by how big our God really is. Because out of all the verses in the Bible, Dimos chose this one, and it directly related to a struggle I was going through at the moment in time.

The relationships I have formed with these people en tres dias are unbelievable. It’s easy to see God is at work. I just will never be able to express my gratitude for the people who helped me get here. I feel like I am exactly where I am supposed to be. And I have been praying hard about the possibility of practicing physical therapy in Colombia as a missionary a few years down the road. This country and its people have captured my heart.

“Por que yo se los planos de que tengo acerca de Vosotros, planes de bienesto y no de mal, para darles esperanza y futuro.” –Jeremias 29:11

from Jess, with love

always

Colombia: Through my eyes (Day 2)

July 24, 2011

Barranquilla, Colombia

One of the things I love most about mission trips is that you are constantly seeing how big God really is. From the Compassion staff and children at Iglesia Cristiano Roca de Salvation (Christian Church Rock of Salvation) playing our National Anthem with their hands over their hearts to having multiple conversations where I was speaking Spanish and the children were speaking English and we still couldn’t understand each other; every moment was a gift from God. The church service was overwhelming, and it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that it was over 2 hours long. It seemed like every time I stopped crying something the pastor said or children did would cause me to tear up again. When we got there, children wearing matching skinny jeans and t-shirt saying “Jesus es mi amigo” lined both sides of the entrance and greeting us with American “hi’s”, “hello’s” and “welcome’s”. It was awesome. Then they sang and danced for us, and as they were singing, the littled ones passed out balloons to all of us.

The service was said in Spanish, but the pastor’s daughter translated (almost) everything into English. Both of them spoke with such conviction and passion; it was obious that God had chosen them to minister to us. The sermon was fitting; “Let the little children come to me” (Mark 10:14, Matthew 19) is one of my favorite verses, but it meant so much more when surrounded by children who, because they had been given so little, had so much more room for Jesus in their hearts.

After the service, we were escorted by the children to the Compassion development center where tables were already set up for us. A delicious lunch was prepared and one of the girl who had done a special dance for us sat down at our table. There is something so neat about trying to carry on a conversation with someone who didn’t understand English. My table had many failed attempts at Spanish. The poor little girl, whose name was Clarice, would just stare at us confused at first and then laugh. Every now and then she would go grab a Compassion worked that knew English and could translate for us.

One thing that really stood out to me was the pure joy and love those kids poured out on us. I can’t wait to start giving back to them. This day has been amazing. Our group as a whole agreed tonight during devotions that God has a special purpose for each of us as individuals and as a team. It’s just a feeling we have.

The most heartbreaking moment of today was trying to tell clarice goodbye. I was trying to explain that we had to leave, but eventually I just had to say “adios”. She hugged me, but then grabbed my hand and said, “No. No va.” (No, don’t go). I couldn’t believe that after one meal and two hours of broken Spanish and awkward pauses, I had formed a relationship with this girl that was worthy of a tearful goodbye. I felt so blessed.

Tomorrow is our first day of VBS, so we spent some time before dinner and devotions practicing our songs and puppet shows and preparing our crafts. The songs, all in Spanish, are a little rough when combined with hand gestures and percussion instruments, but I know God is going to pull us together tomorrow.

Right now it’s storming, and our power just when out. No air-conditioning. Uh-oh. Some people have been without air for 2 days, so maybe God is trying to make things fair. I’m heading up onto the roof now to look out over the city of Barranquilla. The experience in awesome. The sights, sounds, and smells are all so fascinating.

I’m praying that God continues to bless our team with theses new friendships and continues to keep us safe and in good health. Hopefully tonight I won’t sweat to death! 

 ....and now a little poem inspired by the church....

Iglesia Cristiano Roca de Salvacion

Rock of Salvation

God’s love poured out

On us

Children who had so little

Gave us everything they had

Which was so much more

Than anything

I could give

Humbled by the thought

That we were the ones being served

We, who traveled to Colombia

To serve

Servir las personas de Colombia

Two hours of broken Spanish and one meal later

Tengo un amigo nuevo

Se llama Clarice

Goodbye was heartbreaking

Simple, sweet

The “no, no va” brought tears to my eyes

Clarice and I after church on Sunday

from Jess, with love

always

Colombia: Through my eyes (Day 1)

This is the beginning of a 7-day recap of my recent mission trip with JoyFM and Compassion International to Colombia. After I have posted all my journal entries I'll get back to my regular blogging. Hopefully you enjoy reading about my adventures and looking at the pictures!

July 23, 2011

Barranquilla, Colombia

The first thing I did when I got to the airport at 3:30 am this morning was pass out rubber bands. These bands will serve a reminder to be flexible and trust in the Lord’s plan, even when things don’t go well. Good thing, too. Less than 15 minutes later, exactly 2 ½ hours before our scheduled takeoff, we ran into our first minor problem.

Our problem never did really get resolved, but this is how you know God is on your side: 30 minutes after our scheduled departure time, as we were still waiting for ½ of our team to make it through security, the pilot announced there was a mechanical issue that needed to be resolved, and that was what delayed our take-off.

So we all arrived safely in Charlotte, NC, even though we only had 10 minutes to board our next flight. By the time we made it to Miami, things we back on schedule. And when we landed in Cartagena after 3 plane rides, boy were we ready to be on land again!

I had my 1^st Spanish conversation as soon as I got off the plane. It consisted mostly of me saying “repite por favor” and “despacio”, but eventually I started putting two and two together.

After we made it through customs, we were greeted outside by a handful of children from one of the Compassion projects. They were in traditional Colombian attire and danced and sang and played several songs for us. We felt so welcome…and it was so fun to watch. The drive from the airport to Barranquilla was beautiful, but it was hard to keep up with how quickly our surroundings changed. A city with fancy resorts became run-down, crowded houses, which turned into beachfront, then jungle-like, then flat countryside with a few cows and horses and sparse homes. Then just forest, then beach, then jungle again. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen.

When we got to our hotel, we were greeted by more dancing, singing kids, a big banner, and lots of Compassion staff unloading our bags. It was so touching, how we were here to serve them, and here they were, serving us. Dinner was good. I still don’t know what I ate, but it was muy bueno so I didn’t ask.

Our room is nice. Small, but definitely bigger than I expected. We don’t have hot water, but I didn’t expect that, either. And it comes out in a straight stream…it’s like standing under a garden hose. Hopefully I’ll sleep well tonight. I am so looking forward to tomorrow!

from Jess, with love

always

a willing heart

Salter Hill Church, Jamaica, July 2008

Last Saturday it hit me. In exactly one week I would be in the beautiful country of Colombia, serving God and the people there with the awesome JoyFM mission team. I had been planning, preparing, praying about this trip for over 6 months. I couldn’t believe that “the big day” was almost here. But after being on vacation for two weeks, then rushing home to get caught up with the life I put on hold for a bit, I guess it’s not that surprising that this trip kind of snuck up on me.

I am incredibly excited about this mission, don’t get me wrong. But the past few days I have been struggling with feelings of unpreparedness. I don’t think I felt this way before my trip to Jamaica, but I can’t remember for sure. The current state of my suitcase is a pretty good representation of how I’m feeling. There are some jeans and t-shirts folded neatly inside, a pair of tennis shoes and some socks, a swimming suit, a hand towel, craft supplies, and bug spray. That’s it. No, that's not everything I'm taking...it's just everything I have packed. My church clothes have yet to be ironed. I’m still searching for some capris. My trip guide is open on my bed. The shopping list I’ve started (which will hopefully get done ASAP, since I’m leaving in 5 days!) is already overwhelming. Four years worth of Spanish notes from high school are nowhere to be found, even though I was planning on using them to brush up on my foreign language skills. I’m still trying to put together Bible songs sung in Spanish simultaneously with hand gestures and homemade percussion instruments.

It seems like there’s so much I have yet to do. I’m not really stressed, and not anxious, I just don’t feel ready. And that kind of scares me. So tonight I put myself in time-out and pulled out my Bible, which I’m ashamed to admit has fallen by the wayside the past two weeks. I started reading 2 Corinthians 8.

“And now, brothers and sisters, we want you to know about the grace God gave the churches in Macedonia. They have been tested by great troubles, and they are very poor. But they gave much because of their great joy. I can tell you that they gave as much as they were able and even more than they could afford. No one told them to do it. But they begged and pleaded with us to let them share in this service for God’s people. And they gave in a way we did not expect. They first gave themselves to the Lord and to us. This is what God wants.”

These few simple verses spoke to my heart. Any other day, this particular passage might not have struck me. But today, these words were exactly what I needed to hear. They reminded me what the essence of this mission is. Maybe Saturday will get here and I still won’t be ready. Maybe I won’t be able to speak Spanish fluently. Our mission team might have trouble adapting to a new country and culture. And I might feel like I don’t have a lot to offer compared to others on the team.

This Scripture tells me that these things don’t matter. The Macedonians were remarkable and stood out to Paul because of their willingness to serve and their love for the Lord. God has shown me that His plan for me, this summer, is Colombia. So instead of focusing on what I haven’t yet accomplished, I am going to focus on what God is going to accomplish on this trip. God never asked me to be extraordinary; he simply asked me to be willing. To trust in His plan. To go to Colombia with a kind heart and open arms. To offer everything I have; my time, my hands, my talents. My mission is to give. To love. To serve.

So if you’re reading this, please keep myself and the JoyFM mission team in your prayers! We need prayers for our safety, good health, and that God will use us to change lives in Colombia…and that our lives may be forever changed as well. If I have internet access, I might post some blogs on the trip...and if not, I'll post some prayer journal entries when I get back. Adios, amigos! Voy a Colombia!

From Jess, with love <3

always

Independence Day

let freedom ring

Okay, so I know I just posted a vacation blog yesterday, but being the patriotic American that I am, I can't just let the 4th of July pass on by without acknowledging it in my blog. And since my post yesterday was so long, I just want to share a simple story that took place on our trip that I have been saving for today.

On the night we went to see the Pine Mountain Band perform, a segment of their show was dedicated to the military men and women who have served our country and those who are currently serving. They asked them to stand, and of course we acknowledged them with applause, hugs, and handshakes. Then the band played Trace Adkins' song Arlington (if you've never heard it, you should give it a listen) and we stood to sing the Star-Spangled Banner.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a young man, probably not much older than me, that had been standing earlier. His face was shining with tears. There was an older man, towards the back, and his head was bent forward. I watched his shoulders shaking as he sobbed. A woman next to me, also one of the many servicemen and women acknowledged earlier, grabbed her husband's hand and squeezed her eyes shut. Voices trembled as everyone sang through their tears.

And I cried.

I mean, really cried.

Most people my age would find this strange. Or hilarious. Or a combination of both. I'm sure some people would have even laughed at me. But I wasn't ashamed that I was crying at all. Because I know the history of this country very well. And I was brought up to understand the sacrifices that were made to get us where we are today.

I realized, as we were singing along to the Star-Spangled Banner, as I watched the people around me cry, what the problem with our country is today. There aren't enough people who put a hand over their heart when the National Anthem is played. There aren't enough people who cry when they hear the taps being played. There aren't enough people who know or truly understand the history of this great country. And there are too many people who think God should be omitted from the Pledge of Allegiance, our schools, our money, our government buildings.

There is nothing more intricately woven in the history of our country than God. I feel like most people have forgotten that. You can't deny that our country was founded on God and Biblical principles. It's everywhere. The Declaration. The Constitution. The Pledge of Allegiance. The Star-Spangled Banner. Diaries and letters written by our Founding Fathers. Political speeches from the early days. Our country's currency. And today I believe that we are far, far, far away from the America that our Founding Fathers envisioned.

I could go on forever, but instead I think I will end with several quotes, one from the Bible and two from one of our Founding Fathers. And I will continue to pray that we as Americans always remember our country's history and the sacrifices that have been made to make our country great.

“It is impossible to rightly govern a nation without God and the Bible."

"I am sure that never was a people, who had more reason to acknowledge a Divine interposition in their affairs, than those of the United States; and I should be pained to believe that they have forgotten that agency, which was so often manifested during our Revolution, or that they failed to consider the omnipotence of that God who is alone able to protect them.” 

-George Washington

 “A nation without God's guidance is a nation without order. Happy are those who keep God's law!”

-Proverbs 29:18

from Jess, with love<3
always