all i can see.

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Before setting out to explore the Holy Land in March of this year, there were two books that I decided to read in preparation of my trip overseas. These books included Dr. David Livermore’s Leading with Cultural Intelligence and Dan Senor’s Start-up Nation: The Story of Israel’s Economic Miracle. This journal serves as a testament to the key concepts, principles, and ideals that were most striking to me as I prepared to journey to Israel.

Leading with Cultural Intelligence

Having traveled to more than thirty different countries, I have had the privilege to experience customs, colors, smells, foods, and peoples around the globe. Sadly, there have been times when I have allowed myself an attitude of arrogance in thinking that I am well versed in travel and thus have nothing left to learn. Some of this arrogance stems from accolade I have received while overseas as I have been told on multiple occasions that I am different than many foreign travelers. The difference is often cited in the sense that I have a deep appreciation and respect for the customs and cultures I am immersed in. This often is portrayed through a willingness to try and do everything and anything put in front of me. I have a personality that is adventurous, relaxed, and confident. But while I enjoy finding myself absorbed in a new journey, I am often humbled by the fact that, despite all my experiences, I have a great deal to be educated on. This rang true even as I prepared for the trip to Israel by reading Livermore’s Leading with Cultural Intelligence.

Livermore’s book, though relatively short, had a myriad of advice regarding travel preparation and cultural planning. The premise of the text is that the world is flattening and we are finding ourselves interacting with people who represent a plethora of cultures and countries worldwide. For example, at my university, I not only work with students who live in the United States, but I also have the privilege of working with international students from as many as forty other countries. There are days where I literally could be answering an email from a student in Turkey, Skyping with a student in China, and having a student visit from Guatemala. Certainly with as many students I work with from diverse backgrounds, the ability to understand each culture could be overwhelming, especially for someone with little international experience. Instead of feeling overcome though, Dr. Livermore explains, “cultural intelligence is an ability uniquely suited for the barrage of cultures faced by most contemporary leaders. Rather than expecting individuals to master all the norms of the various cultures encountered, cultural intelligence helps a leader develop an overall repertoire and perspective that results in effective leadership (or interaction),” (Livermore, 2010). In other words, the point of cultural intelligence is not to know and understand every custom of every culture, but to have a framework to intelligently interact with people across the cultural spectrum.

Beyond this initial premise, Dr. Livermore developed his book on the Four Dimensional Model of Cultural Intelligence, which includes an individual’s drive (motivation CQ), knowledge (cognitive CQ), strategy (metacognitive CQ) and action (behavioral CQ) in order to reap the benefits of cross-cultural interaction. The initial principle, CQ drive, which “includes three sub-imensions: intrinsic motivation -the degree to which you derive enjoyment from culturally diverse situations; extrinsic motivation-the tangible benefits you gain from culturally diverse experiences; and self-efficacy-the confidence that you will be effective in a cross-cultural encounter,” is the concept that stands out to me to the greatest degree (Livermore, 2010). Just like Dr. Livermore, I am completely energized in cross-cultural environments. To some degree, I would argue I am comfortable and invigorated in a diverse environment because I was raised in an extended family that is biracial, both in terms of marriages and in terms of children that have been adopted from all around the globe. As a result, I grew up celebrating ethnic, racial, and cultural differences. Arguably my motivation or cultural drive is a combination of nature and nurture, regarding this area of strength in my cultural intelligence.

While motivational CQ might very well be my strength, strategic CQ could very well be my weakness. “The three subdimensions of CQ strategy are awareness, planning, and checking. Awareness means being in tune with what’s going on in ourselves and others. Planning is taking time to prepare for a cross-cultural encounter-anticipating how to approach the people, topic, and situation. Checking is monitoring our interactions to see if our plans and expectations were appropriate (Livermore, 2010). The most significant area of weakness for me would be during the planning stage of strategic CQ. I think the issue is twofold. First, since I have done a fair amount of traveling, I find myself feeling as though my general knowledge is suitable for every situation. Thus I find myself asking the question as to why I would spend a significant amount of time preparing when I am confident in my abilities. This certainly can be a prideful and arrogant excuse. Second, I think there is a part of me that can be so relaxed that it could almost be considered laziness. Obviously I am not perfect with every cross-cultural interaction and there could very well be times when I have ignorantly treated someone inappropriately because I was too lazy to aptly plan. But reflecting on this stage, and knowing I need to improve in this area, I think there are two areas I can specifically develop. These areas include preparation in understanding a cultures history and learning more of a country’s language. Too often, for example, I find myself dependent on either translators or nationals knowing English. And there have been occasions when that language barrier has placed me into some difficult or challenging circumstances. An instance where this occurred was when I was last in Thailand. After flagging down three taxis, I finally found a driver who knew enough English to navigate me to my hotel on the other side of Bangkok. But after roughly a thirty-minute drive, I found myself in front of the wrong hotel. Fortunately, I have always been good at charades, so after fifteen minutes of gesturing, the driver finally understood where I needed to be. Of course this scenario was somewhat a part of the journey or experience for me as I can be a bit of an adrenaline junkie. But if ever a situation were to turn sour, I could have really been caught in a terrible bind and knowing at least a bit of the language could potentially ease some of the tension.

The final concept I want to highlight from Livermore’s book is the importance of food. Growing up in the Baptist denomination, there has always been a high priority placed on food. I remember many of my Sunday evenings included gatherings around potlucks, or finger-food-fellowships, as I like to affectionately refer to them. Scripture is not silent on the topic of food either. For example, Christians remember Christ’s sacrifice through the breaking of bread and the sharing of wine. While the Last Supper is certainly symbolic and vital to the Christian faith, Dr. Livermore notes, “In most cultures, eating together has far more symbolic value than simply ‘grabbing a bite to eat.’ Sharing a meal together can often be viewed as a sacred event,” (Livermore, 2010). The first time I truly understood this concept was when a friend I met in Singapore had invited me over to her home to have a prepared meal. Prior to my visit, I found out that her mother had taken the entire day off of work to cook an authentic Chinese meal, complete with stingray, black chicken soup, rice, broccoli, and many other dishes. When I arrived for dinner an entire feast had been prepared. I certainly noticed the sacrifice this family made to have me for dinner, as they were a family of very modest means. To them, this dinner was very sacred and meant for social interaction, not the typical dine-and-dash that we are so accustomed to in the United States.

Overall, I felt that Livermore’s book was an eye opening read that has challenged me to become a more thoughtful international traveler. My overseas experiences have vaulted me forward in my cultural intelligence, but there is a great deal that I have yet to be educated on.

Start-up Nation: The Story of Israel’s Economic Miracle

Having lived in both the United States and Singapore, I have become very familiar with countries of economic strength, noting that the might is often derivative of the nation’s business industry and capitalist policy. When it comes to start-ups though, my attention is immediately directed to Silicon Valley, which is known for the billions of dollars in tech start-up investments that flow through the San Franciscan city.

Before reading Start-up Nation: The Story of Israel’s Economic Miracle, I would have never had guessed that the tiny Jewish nation would have such a vibrant business industry with an economic climate that incentivizes and stimulates innovation. Certainly some of my ignorance stems from former knowledge that Israel is a country that is not much bigger than the state of New Jersey and that Israel literally has no natural resources. So it has always seemed to me as a country with very little economically to offer. Combine that with the fact that they are constantly in a state of war and one would ask how anything could be accomplished in such an oppressive environment. Despite these negative valuations though, Dan Senor does a masterful job assessing the nation’s tech savvy and inventive culture.

The astonishing success of Israel’s start-up industry, according to Senor, is based on a number of factors. One of these factors is in regards to the requirement of all citizens of Israel to gain multidisciplinary military training, whether male or female. Of course one of the reasons Israel requires military training of its citizens is due to the fact that the country is surrounded by nations on every border that would like to see the nation completely wiped from the map of the earth. But despite that obvious implication, the mandatory military training provides an excellent and disciplined skillset for the people of Israel. Second, from a cultural perspective, the Jewish people embrace the ideal that failure breeds education. In other words, the culture within Israel leaves plenty of room for individuals to learn from their mistakes. And another observation made by Senor is in regards to the diverse history of the people of Israel. Since Israel was not officially formed, in modern history, as a nation until after World War II, the Jewish people were spread around the globe in countries such as the United States, Russia, and Ireland. These people immigrated back to their homeland, bringing with them various degrees of higher education, diverse cultural perspectives related to the countries they once lived, and even a great deal of financial capital, which is a result of their innate ingenuity.

Speaking of ingenuity, one example of the nation’s start-up industry, more in terms of innovative spirit, is in regards to our MBA group visit to the Golan Olive Oil Mill. It is no surprise that Israel is known for their olives and olive oil industry. Even in ancient times, olive oil was produced in Israel. But for thousands of years, the pulp of the olive, which is what remains after the oil has been meticulously extracted, is left to waste, often-discarded back into the environment. Unfortunately, the remnants of the olive after production can lead to poor environmental impacts, such as polluting valuable water supplies. So in an effort to waste less of the olive and eliminate the harmful affects of olive waste, the Golan Olive Mill found alternative uses for the whole olive, which include the development of external application skin-care products. And it is this resourcefulness that resounds throughout Israel to make them known as a start-up nation.

Overall, I found Senor’s work to be very educational. As I noted previously, I had little understanding of the business environment, let alone the innovative side, of Israel. And I think there is a lot to be learned from Israel’s people and their economic environment, especially as it relates to the future vitality of the United States.

References:
Livermore, D.A. (2010). Leading with cultural intelligence: The new secret to
success. NY: AMACOM. ISBN: 978-0-8144-1487-3

Senor, Dan. (2011). Start-up nation: The story of Israel’s economic miracle.
NY: Twelve. ISBN: 978-0-446-54146-6

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live in the sunshine.

My friend Beth and I made our way to the Metropolitan Rapid Transit (MRT) in Bangkok.  We had just stepped out of the taxi and began pushing our way through the crowds to catch our train deeper into the city in search of shopping and fresh Pad Thai. As we reached the stairway to bring us to our platform, we noticed a young girl who was dressed in rags, lying on a filthy blanket, eerily lifeless and completely alone.  Our hearts sank as we observed the cruel injustice that plagued this colossal city.

Now you do not need to travel to Thailand to realize how tainted and devastated our world has become.  In fact, the U.S. Representative from Illinois’ 14th District, Randy Hultgren, was addressing the House floor this afternoon regarding the Justice for Victims of Trafficking Act, which is a bill the Congressman is sponsoring.  Every year, more than 100,000 children are trafficked every year in the United States.  But this is not merely a problem the United States faces.  It is of global proportions and of global importance in terms of needing to be addressed.

At any given time, an estimated 2.4 million people around the world are the victims of human trafficking, according to the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime. Some of the facts of this practice, according to the International Labour Organizations, are:

  • 161 countries are reported to be affected by human trafficking by being a source, transit or destination country.
  • People are reported to be trafficked from 127 countries to be exploited in 137 countries, affecting every continent and every type of economy.
  • The majority of trafficking victims are between 18 and 24 years of age.
  • An estimated 1.2 million children are trafficked each year.
  • 43 percent of victims are used for forced commercial sexual exploitation, of whom 98 percent are women and girls.
    (Half the Sky via PBS)

Recently, the book club I attend, “Apolitical,” concluded reading Half the Sky, by Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn.  The premise of the text focused on three abuses at it relates to women’s issues on a worldwide scale: “sex trafficking and forced prostitution; gender-based violence, including honor killings and mass rape; and maternal mortality, which still needlessly claims one woman a minute” (2009).

Though each of the aforementioned cruelties need to be rectified, my personal exploration, based on experience and reflection in the red light districts of many Southeast Asian counties, has led to a particular vendetta toward seeing an end to sex trafficking.  Of course, the statistics are overwhelming.  I find myself burdened and emotionally captivated by this issue, but I also find myself asking about the practicality of undertaking such a complex problem. Where does one even begin?  But in asking such a question I was reminded [and convicted] by an anecdote from Half the Sky about the impact one person can have:

A man goes out on the beach and sees that it is covered with starfish that have washed up in the tide. A little boy is walking along, picking them up and throwing them back into the water. “What are you doing, son?” the man asks. “You see how many starfish there are? You’ll never make a difference.” The boy paused thoughtfully, and picked up another starfish and threw it into the ocean. “It sure made a difference to that one,” he said (2009). 

My mentor, a successful businessman and now Vice President of a major university, used to tell me, “The faith, courage, and integrity of one man is a majority.”  I know this to be true, even in relation to the issue of combatting sex trafficking.  One man, simply helping one person at a time, can make a positive influence.

Certainly I do not anticipate quitting my job and heading to Thailand tomorrow to rescue women from the brothels, but I do expect, along with the members of my book club, getting involved in a realistic way to make a small impact in the lives of women on a global scale. As a group, we have resolved to:

  • Continue educating ourselves on issues that oppress and suppress women. This includes reading relevant books, critically analyzing works and statistics, and brainstorming creative ideas to continue our involvement in ending abuse of women.
  • Bring awareness to the issue through sharing information and stories on blogs and social media.
  • Start a collaborative micro-finance fund to support women’s business ideas in impoverished economic nations. Our group will collectively determine micro-business ventures worthy of investing in that will positively increase the financial stability of women, hopefully having a congruent impact on the investment certain families make in the education for their children.
  • Volunteer regularly at a local organization that supports the fight against sex trafficking, such as Women at Risk.
  • Take a fact-finding and short-term mission trip to a country where sex trafficking is prevalent, possibly even attempting to connect with women that we have supported via micro-finance.

These are just a few of the small ways I plan to get involved with my book club to fight the sex slave trade.  I look forward to sharing the progress, experiences, and opportunities of our involvement.

The next book we plan to read is The Road to Lost Innocence: The True Story of a Cambodian Heroine, by Somaly Mam. And if you have any book suggestions or ideas of how a layperson, such as myself, can get involved in the battle of the sex slave trade, I would love to hear from you!

a simple walk.

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Augustine of Hippo once opined, “The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page” (Slimbach, 2010).

Traveling is emotionally and conceptually romantic.  It embraces all senses on a road to discovery, not just of a place, but also of self.  Travel in essence, then, is education.  I know, personally, travel has often led to formative experiences that have challenged me intellectually, academically, and spiritually.

One such occasion was five years ago when I lived a month in Mongu, Zambia with my cousins who are third generation missionaries.  Thirteen hours from the nearest city, I found myself living on the Zambezi flood plain near a rural village of mud huts with limited access to electricity or fresh water.

With the intentions to serve the community, I found myself engaged with the local children, many of whom were orphans.  These children were partially clothed with tattered and scruffy attire that had been discarded by Americans.  Most did not even own a pair of shoes.  But despite their lack of materials, the children adorned precious and contagious smiles that resounded with gratitude each time a need was met.

In Running for My Life, Lopez Lomong indubitably expressed how each day was a story of survival, much like the story of the children I interacted with in Zambia, as he, too, fought for basic human essentials – food, water, and shelter.  “Even with pooling our rations,” Lopez describes, “we only had enough grain for one meal a day. Six days a week we ate our meal in the middle of the night. That way, we were the hungriest when we needed our strength the least” (2012).

In an effort to replicate a small piece of what life would be like in a refugee camp, I chose to abstain from using personal transportation on Saturday, May 3, 2014.  Instead of using my car during a 24-hour period, I decided to utilize public transportation, a bicycle, and my own two feet to complete my daily tasks.

One anecdote that stands out from this experience was when I realized that the date I established to forgo my automobile was also the day I was set to graduate.  Instead of riding my bicycle to the ceremony though, I decided it would be most realistic to walk.  So I packed my graduation outfit, including my cap and gown, and walked more than an hour to my destination.

In reflection, it was certainly a sobering and refreshing practice.  I never contemplated how a lack of personal transportation binds oneself to a small geographic region.  My entire life I had been used to traveling from one side of my city to the other at my leisure, whether meeting friends for a movie, studying at Starbucks, or heading to the beach.  Instead, if I had been confined to merely my walking shoes, I wonder if I would even know what the other side of the city looked like.

The simplicity of going a day without personal transportation was revolutionary both in my life and to my thought process.  This is one reason I am excited that Cornerstone University’s incoming students will participate in a similar exercise.  Many of us will never experience the harsh realities and arduous difficulties of living years inside a refugee camp, but my hope is that this experiment revolutionizes this generation, one heart at a time, to live a life empathetic to the needs around them.  Furthermore, I expect this practice to embolden a class of Christ-followers to relinquish apathy and pursue a deeper compassion for the plight of the hungry, sick, and downtrodden through further exploration of the issues. Living a day in the life of a refugee should only be the beginning of a lifelong endeavor.

References:

Lomong, L., & Tabb, M. A. (2012). Running for my life: one lost boy’s journey from the
killing fields of Sudan to the Olympic Games. Nashville, Tenn.: Thomas Nelson.

Slimbach, R. (2010). Becoming world wise a guide to global learning. Sterling, Va.: Stylus Pub., LLC.

it has to end.

It was the tail end of a month long adventure and I had just finished exploring Bangkok with my friend Beth. Since she has lived in the city for nearly a year while working for an international high school, Beth’s logistical knowledge and broken Thai helped me flag down a taxi driver who knew enough English to take me to the Millennium Hilton.

Armed with turn-by-turn directions written in English and the roadways written in Thai, I parted from Beth and was left at the mercy of a cab driver I was barely capable of being conversational with.

After roughly thirty minutes, I found myself in front of the wrong hotel. Fortunately, I have always been good at charades. And after fifteen minutes of gesturing, he finally understood where I needed to be. He confirmed his understanding with his broken English, “Ah, five star hotel. On riverfront. Very tall!”

As he turned the car around, I prayed a prayer of thankfulness that I had not been dropped off on the roadside in Bangkok. However, my prayer was interrupted as the taxi driver asked me a question. At first I didn’t understand. I thought he was muttering something in Thai. So I pretended to laugh and nod my head. Then he repeated himself a second time. This time I heard him: “You want boom boom?”

Immediately, my eyes turned from my iPhone to the sidewalk. We were apparently driving through one of Bangkok’s red light districts. The street was lined with women willing to satisfy any man’s desires if he is willing to pay a few baht.

After a moment of shock and understanding, a string of “no’s” sprang from my mouth.

Apparently my assertion was comprehended by the taxi driver as if I did not believe the women to be pretty enough for my taste. So he proceeded to bring me to girl after girl until finally my “no” resounded powerfully and aggressively enough. So he gave up and brought me directly to the Hilton.

Once to my room, I was able to reflect and process more appropriately on my brief experience in the red light district. It is no secret that South East Asia is plagued with brothels, prostitutes and sex trafficking. I just never had personal exposure to the oppressive, degrading, and heartless industry. And it was this occurrence that has challenged me to become better educated on the issue of worldwide tyrannical reign as it relates to the horrendous treatment of women.

So I have partnered with two friends who are as enraged about the cause as I have become. We have decided to begin the educational process by reading, “Half the Sky,” by Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn. It has proved thus far to be a heavy and sobering read based on the personal stories of women who have been involved in the sex trade industry.

To get an idea, just a vague picture of this hell, I give to you an excerpt as to how millions of young girls are treated after they have been kidnapped with the intention of selling them as sex toys:

“An essential part of the brothel business model is to break the spirit of girls, through humiliation, rape, threats, and violence. We met a fifteen-year-old Thai girl whose initiation consisted of being forced to eat dog droppings so as to shatter her self-esteem. Once a girl is broken and terrified, all hope of escape squeezed out of her, force may no longer be necessary to control her. She may smile and laugh at passerby, and try to grab them and tug them into the brothel. Many a foreigner would assume that she is there voluntarily. But in that situation, complying with the will of the brothel owner does not signify consent.”

This is an exact picture of the horror I was introduced to in Bangkok. The harsh and unfair realities have broken my heart. Certainly this is not the world that God created.

So it is my hope, with this brief introduction, to become conscious of the oppression facing women worldwide and determine what kind of impact a layperson such as myself can have to end this hellish slavery. I plan to share what I learn and I hope a dialog can be started with those of you who are just as infuriated about how women, such as the aforementioned fifteen-year-old, are treated.

It has to end.

play me a simple song, so i can sing along.

My ecstasy is travel. It is my escape. I have a constant and intense passion to be submerged in new experiences and new culture. Always challenged, always learning. Like cherry blossoms in spring, I discover the sweet aroma of new life. The new perspective brings refreshment, invigoration, and renewal. It is a revitalization that demands closeness to my Creator, my Cloud Rider.

The latest beyond borders escapade was to Guatemala. I had been to Central America before, to the beautiful country of Honduras, but this was my first journey to Gaute. This was a special trip though. My cousin Katie has been living for many months in this country as a missionary. While serving, she met a native missionary and they fell in love. I attended their wedding (which was the initial purpose of my visit), but I was intent on exploration.

Pressed for time, I flew down for an extended weekend (you know me, a life of overextension and overcommitment…but I am working on that!). Showing up roughly 45 minutes before my international flight was to take off, I arrived with just enough time to slip through security and board my plane. A short layover in Dallas put me in Guatemala on Friday evening.

After arrival, I was welcomed and greeted by a phenomenal missionary family which anticipated that I would be famished. They prepared an American meal – a delectable selection of grilled burgers, sausage, and sweet corn. We chatted of the nuptials. It was a quaint conversation. Emotion overwhelmed me in the moment and my gaze turned heavenward as I could almost taste the coming Kingdom. I savored every last bite of that delicious twinkle of time.

Saturday morning was lazy. A good lazy. After a comfortable rest I woke to the surrounding fragrance of fresh brewed Guatemalan coffee. I sat on a veranda that peered into a deep valley below, flavorful coffee resting on my tongue, caffeine awakening me from my slumber, and the Word of God speaking to my heart. Have you experienced a similar moment? Your dreams seem reality. Your life is content.

After a morning of conversation it was time for the anticipated moment. The wedding. Being in Guatemala, the wedding had a Spanish and Mayan flare. It was beautiful. A gift to the bride as it were. Of course it being completely in Spanish, it was difficult for me to understand the entire ceremony with consistent fluency, but the commitment made was moving.

But enough about the wedding (I’m a dude, not a wedding planner, so give me a break)! The remainder of the trip (two short days) was spent in fact finding mode and in fruitful discovery.

I took off for the west coast. Roads were rough and reminded me of my time in Zambia – especially when riding on the rustic country roads. Fortunately we were driving a GMC Yukon which provided excellent comfort and four-wheel capabilities to maneuver the gaping holes in the ground that could only be described as land mines! The most interesting leg of the journey was when the road ended however. To reach our destination, we had to drive our vehicle onto a wooden raft that wasn’t much larger than the Yukon in length or width. Once we negotiated the price – twenty whole bucks – we floated down river until we reached Montericco – a black sand paradise.

The beach is uniquely black because the water reduces volcanic rock to a fine grain of sand. What I loved most about this location is that it was off the beaten path. Very few tourists venture to this beach and as a result we practically had the beach to ourselves. With waves 10-15 feet tall and water warm as a bath, it was truly paradise. Once I had my fill of sand (after attempts to wave surf), I cleaned myself up at the hotel and had dinner at a local Spanish restaurant overlooking the ocean.

This restaurant, affectionately called Johnny’s Place, had an open air feel. A cool sea breeze shadowed across the sand as evening ventured in with the sun was setting over the horizon. For dinner, we chose from a plethora of authentic Spanish cuisine prepared fresh. I proudly chose beef fajitas, fashioned with homemade corn tortillas and an inviting selection of toppings: guacamole, lettuce, sour cream, jalapenos, and cheese. While waiting for the meal to be served I lounged in a netted hammock under shelter of a cabana and listened to the crashing waves.

Another solid night of sleep passed by and I said my goodbyes to the black sand paradise. It was time to explore another city. The city of Antigua. The history in this city is astounding and the view is unlike any other. Surrounded by three volcanoes, this 1700’s metropolis has a hint of European style. It had once been destroyed by an catastrophic hellish flow of lava but they have since rebuilt and it has become a city with a thriving heritage and an open invitation to tourists seeking refuge.

The afternoon was spent purchasing souvenirs – paintings, coffee, carvings, and a cigar…or two. I always purchase a painting from a local artist whenever I am abroad. I feel it is one of the most authentic representations of a particular culture one can own. Each stroke, every color is an ethnic frenzy.

For my final meal, I dined at an upscale, locally owned seafood restaurant. As the evening calmed, I had a phenomenal vantage point of the surrounding city and its volcanoes while on the second story balcony. With a fireplace that shimmered and a giant candle filled tree, it was a moment I strived to savor.

Full of conversation and laughter the night greeted me quickly. I took the last moments to visit the town square, a local coffee cafe, and a historical arch before heading back to my hotel.

It was a short trip. Too short. And while I loved my visit to Guatemala and would like to return, there are many other countries that remain on my list. I am not sure where I will end up next or for how long, but I am praying for a revelation and an invitation.