As I ventured out on day 2 of serving in Guatemala, my leader announced to the group that it would be a good idea to make connections with the kids that we would meet that day, because we would be seeing them again soon. As I listened to the announcement, I loved the prospect of it, but didn’t really think twice about the idea, as young kids have never exactly been my forte. I was expecting to step in, say “Hola”, give them a smile and be on my way. We arrived at the village and I began doing just that. That is until two young boys and I continued to cross paths. I finally asked them their names, and they answered with, “Kevin y Jefferson”. We laughed together as I struggled to speak their language. I made small talk with the Spanish that I knew, and soon enough, we learned that we all had the same passion to run. Before I knew it, the boys had grabbed my hands and asked me to race. After some convincing, I agreed to run with them. We took off on the slippery dirt roads of their impoverished village. As we made a turn, my foot caught on a patch of grass, and it as if in slow motion.. I fell backwards. Immediately I felt embarrassment. The voice in my head told me that the two boys that I had just met, already thought that I was slow, clumsy, and weird. I began to shamefully pick myself back up when I heard the giggles of each of them on either side of me and felt two small hands on each of my arms. They lifted me up and pulled me into their sweet embrace, and my heart melted. In that short race, God showed me that I was worthy of praises, love and acceptance. He showed me that through the small hands of Jefferson and Kevin. They picked me up when I fell and embraced me. Just like God does, every single time I fall. Sometimes it is so easy to forget those things, and sometimes it is easy to believe that I am not cut out for certain things. I am so glad that Jefferson and Kevin proved me wrong.
