Thursday

The other day I was asking myself if what I was doing here was good.  I wondered if I was making an impact on the kids or if I was helping them at all.  And then Thursday happened.
Because of some major protests in the area not all of our kids were able to come yesterday, which enabled me to spend some quality time with each of the kids that were there.  One of the girls was struggling with math homework so for the first time since I've been here I was able it help with homework.  Thank goodness math is the same in any language.  It was so fun to walk her through each problem and see the light come on as she began to figure things out for herself.  It was such a blessing to be able to connect with her and feel her genuine gratitude.
At the end of the day I left the site at the same time as 5 of the kids.  Unbeknownst to me, because I didn't understand what they were telling me, they had decided to walk me to my bus stop.  They held my hand, led me to the corner, and didn't leave my side until the bus came.  I said my evening goodbyes and then climbed onto the bus thinking they'd turned around and headed for home.  But as I took a seat, a rare open one by the window, my eye caught small rapid movements.  The kids were still there, all waving at me vigorously with giant smiles on their faces.
Lovely doesn't even begin to describe the feeling I had.  The work here can be hard, exhausting, and sometimes confusing but those little moments make it all worth it and remind me that this is truly a good thing.

Grandpa

A week ago I celebrated my 25th birthday which means the other day, the 23rd of May, was the 17 year anniversary of my baptism into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  Choosing to be baptized by immersion, to take upon myself Christ's name, and to follow Him was no doubt the best decision I've ever made.
I wish I could say that I've never taken the covenants I made that day for granted but sadly, as is relatable to anyone reading this, that's not the case.  As an average girl I've had my fair share of weak moments.  Moments when I doubt more than I believe.  Moments when fear rules over faith.  And moments when I've lost sight of Christ's love for me.  Which is why I'm so grateful for so many positive and loving examples in my life that help me along the way.
It's this time of year, surrounding my baptism day, that I'm always starkly reminded of two of the brightest examples of faith, love, wisdom, and discipleship in my life.  Seventeen years ago I had the privilege of hearing both of my grandpas speak at my baptism.  I don't remember every word they said but I'll never forget the feeling that was there because it's a feeling I encounter whenever I'm in the presence of one of my grandpas.

At my baptism seventeen years ago my grandpa Schultz began his talk by looking directly at me and saying, "Nicole, you and I are going to have a chat..."  I remember that moment so clearly because I could feel his genuine love for me and the sacred topic he was about to share with me.  It was a special moment as he focused solely on teaching me an important principle of the gospel.  He didn't care that there were many others watching and listening, he simply wanted to help me understand the great gift I'd just been given.
This is something I continue to feel from him every day.  He is a quiet, humble man who shares the gospel with others around him through true charity and good works.  His good works are often unnoticed because he does not seek attention, he simply aims to help those he loves.  Recently, despite his own means and his own needs, he unselfishly provided me with financial support to help me pursue a dream.  This to me was just one of many of Christlike actions he's taken because it was
done in pure love and no glory was sought in return.  His love for Christ shone bright through that act of kindness because of his own pure love and selflessness.


The other speaker at my baptism, my grandpa Gwynn, is also a great pillar of faith on which I lean and look up to.  That day he spoke with such certainty and knowledge which has helped carry me through the last seventeen years.  Recently he stood in front of a crowd of people and declared unwavering faith in Jesus Christ as our Saviour and Redeemer.  This was a crowd of people mourning the loss of a son, father, brother, uncle and friend and was composed mostly of people who were wandering through life without any direction.
In a world of confusion and darkness I am filled with so much admiration for the bravery of my grandpa.  He wasn't worried about what people might think of his beliefs.  He wasn't afraid to stand and let his light shine for so many people that needed it.  His faith in Christ emanated from him to fill the room with peace and comfort.

Earthly words and feelings could never accurately describe the love and gratitude I have for these two men. For the faith they had to listen when truth knocked on their doors a few short decades ago.  And
for the faith they continue to exercise every day as they not only follow Christ, but as they act as true disciples of Him.

Just Call Me Tía

I absolutely adore working with the children here in Peru.  My project site is on the outskirts of the city and the kids that come here come from extremely poor families.  These children are extremely sweet but many struggle with learning because they do not come from an environment that supports it.  Yet they still come to this program everyday after school to continue to try and learn.  They come from many different directions by many methods, walking, city bus etc.  There are even a few who are only allowed to come if they bring their baby/ toddler siblings with them so it's not uncommon for  an eight year old boy to stop doing his homework to check on his baby brother taking a nap in the corner. 

It often gets frustrating for me when I try and communicate with them because I'm constantly running into a giant cement barrier called language.  It can be quite aggravating when a child asks for help with homework or when I want to talk to them about their days.  But I've learned nothing from traveling if not that there's more to communication than language.  Even though it can be hard, my insecurities about Spanish are nonexistent in comparison to the things these children face everyday and still manage to smile.  Although their speech is just an extremely fast blur of sounds that I'm not convinced are words, there is in fact one word I've managed to distinguish.  It's a word that I hear at least 50 times a day, tía.  The children are constantly referring to me and the other volunteer as tía.  I assumed that it meant teacher, but when I looked it up it translated to aunt or auntie.  

I'm so flattered that these kids are willing to refer to me as an aunt, someone close to them.  They couldn't care less that I don't understand, they just care that I'm there.  I'm there to redirect them to homework or put an arm around them when they're frustrated.  I'm there to play games with them and help them learn English.  Being there is something so simple for me, but to them it's something precious and rare.  

I don't understand much but I'm honored to be called tía for the next month!

Help needed!

This is just a quick blog to briefly describe my first day of volunteer work.

The bus ride to my project site is just under an hour.  The bus takes us to the outskirts of the city into the ghetto of the ghetto of the ghetto.  Seriously.  When I arrived yesterday I wasn't even all the way through the door, which basically serves as a hole in a cement wall, before a little girl jumped up on me and hugged me.  She wouldn't let me put her down for almost 15 minutes and when I finally did she kissed me on the cheek first.  When the project site manager introduced me, the children cheered and were genuinely grateful to have me there even though I couldn't understand them.   I spent the afternoon helping children with their homework (mostly just trying to keep them focused), playing games with them that would help them improve their English, and most importantly teaching them about hygiene.  I got to spend time teaching them how to properly wash their heads and brush their teeth so they can learn the importance of taking care of one's self.

The biggest thing I learned is how much attention these kids needs.  They didn't need me to understand them they just needed me to be there for them. This project site and others in this area are desperate for more volunteers so I'm making one more plea to help us get my sister here with me!
Please check out www.volunteerforever.com/volunteer_profile/nicole-gwynn

Hope for Peru!

"Alone we can do so little, together we can do so much!" -Helen Keller

Hope is something that we actively do every day.  Whether it's for a new car, victory of our favorite team, or simply for the sun to shine in the morning, we hope.  It is the very basis for life because without hope, there is no motivation, with no motivation there is no progression.  Hope is the key that ignites our motivation and motivation is the gas pedal that leads us to better places.  "Better places" can take on many different meanings for different people.  One can search for better places in his/her relationship or search for a better place in the work force.  One can seek a better place in his/her belief system or a better place to establish home.
As humans it is inherent in us to seek such better places because as children of God we've been sent to this earth to learn, to grow, and to progress.  And as we do so, we do with hope.

Sadly there are many of our fellow children who lack hope.  This lack is delivered by a train of disappointments and negative circumstances.  Negative circumstances that they don't necessarily deserve but ones they've inherited in their time on this earth.  One could easily ask how God could allow his children to live without hope but the answer to that is simple.  He doesn't.  Yes He sent us to this earth and yes He is all powerful.  But he also gave us the gift to make our own choices and promises to respect that. He also blesses us with the knowledge and ability to help others so we may learn and grow together.   With these gifts, those of us that have experienced hope everyday can choose to share that with our brothers and sisters who have either lost it along the way or have yet to experience its fruits. 

This is something my sister and I HOPE to do this coming May with the beautiful children of Peru.  These children have fallen victim to circumstances that they cannot control due to the poor choices of the people who were supposed to care for them.  These children are sent to live in orphanages because their parents have chosen to live dangerous lifestyles surrounding alcohol and abuse or they have themselves have fallen victim to severe poverty.
These children are living in conditions that leave much to be desired, that is if the children had any knowledge or hope of better things that could be desired.   With the volunteer program that we have joined we can do just that.  We can serve in these orphanages and work directly with these children.  While working with them we can show them the possibilities of a better place in life that comes with education and love.  As we educate them they will learn skills that can help them lead a better life without poverty, abuse, neglect, or alcohol.  And as we love them they can begin to feel what hope really is and begin to hope for better places themselves. 

If you are one who hopes then I ask you sincerely to reflect on the quote at the top as well as the light that hope brings into your life.  As you do this please consider helping us in bringing hope into the lives of the children in Cuzco, Peru.  Though we we will be working with a small number of orphans in comparison their population of the world, it is profoundly better than helping none.  And if only one is able to lead a better life with the hope we can bring him/her then all of our efforts will have been worth it.

Purchase your t-shirt at www.bonfirefunds.com/hope-for-peru and stand with us as God's representatives of hope.  With every t-shirt purchase you will be helping us bring hope into the lives of children and pushing despair over the edge by funding our efforts to demonstrate love and bring education to these children.  If we reach our goal of at least 100 shirts sold... I will symbolically push despair over the edge by facing a fear and participating in the highest bungee jump in South America!!
Help us push despair over the edge to make room for HOPE!!!

At Season's End

This past weekend I had the opportunity of working as a statistician for a regional basketball tournament.  This is something I've been privileged to to do many times and it is something I enjoy immensely.  I enjoy watching the different teams as they all come into the tournament with unique experiences, dynamics, and philosophies.  I love observing the various coaching behaviors and how each coach's players respond to his or her methods of teaching and communication.  I love getting to know each of the participants by way of their statistical patterns.  But the two things I love and enjoy most of all are, first, seeing the varying levels of effort and heart put into the game by each individual player as they realize their season is near it's end, and second, the love and dedication that a good coach has for each of his players.

With his own set of experiences, skills, and motivations for playing the game, each player is uniquely his own.  An individual brings an element to the tournament that only he can provide and within that element is hidden an exclusive goal shaped by their own personalities and values.  These individual players combine their goals for a season with a team that they've chosen to participate in and represent.  Some teams merge their individual goals with harmonious synergy, while others' merge as successfully as two negatively charged magnets.  Even still, within the tournament itself each team comes together to fight for one ultimate goal.  With the assorted elements of each player and team colliding in every match-up, each game has the potential to be, and many are, a battle to the final buzzer.  Some fight honorably and fair while others leave a black mark on the name and colors they've chosen to represent. 

After watching one spectacular competition after another I couldn't help but actively observe the habits, efforts, and attitudes of one particular player.  This player is one whose reputation precedes him and one whose appearance deceives many.  The roster would indicate that he is young man, arguably a kid still, though his features would appear to write a different story.  Whenever he takes the court, opponents can be seen as visibly nervous for fear that they are facing a man not just a boy.  He captivated the crowed with his physical stature but it was the great deal of effort he put into his personal and team goals in every match-up that earned their respect and admiration.  His fair share of mistakes were made no doubt, but successes were also realized as he bounced back from each one with resounding fight.
But it was in his final moment of competition that my attention was truly caught.  I saw as pain and exhaustion set in at the realization that it was over.  He had fought so hard and left every ounce of himself on the court.  So when that whistle indicated his time was done, he had nothing left to cope with the impending uncertainty and disappointment.  The tightly packed and captivated crowd watched as a player known for his composure buried his face in the drastically smaller shoulder of his leader and mentor, his coach.  It was a sight to behold as a comical reminder of his physical maturity and as an endearing moment between a young boy and a coach who truly empathized with his every emotion; a coach who loved and comforted his boy at the season's end.

We've all been blessed with unique lives bundled with experiences that shape who we are and who we want to be.  Each and every single one of us is a child of God with our own personal element to bring to this earth.  We are molded as we go through various battles of this great tournament.  In this life we are given opportunities to experience, we are given trials to overcome, and we are given the opportunity to fight for our goals.  Some goals are exclusive to an individual while some are formed in a unit.  As we all work towards our goals in life, both temporal and eternal, I think of the tournament boys and wonder, "which type of player am I?"
Am I one who soils the name I've chosen to represent by infecting others with my attitude?  Am I one who leaves no mark at all because my fighting style is passive?  Or am I like the one who gives everything until there is nothing left to give, fighting with gusto until that last buzzer rings? 

It is my hope that we can and will all choose to be the latter.  Though we may be small like a child or grown like a man, we are all children of God, our Heavenly Coach.  It is also my belief and testimony that if we choose to be the one who fights with vigor every second on the clock, there will be one waiting for each of us, small and large alike, to crumble in His arms at the sound of the buzzer.  One who knows us each by name.  One who knows our habits, goals, and statistics as players in this great tournament.  One who can truly empathize with the joys that follow each success and the sorrow tacked onto the end of a disappointment.  One whose name we must consciously decide to emblazon our jersey with each day.  If we leave everything we have on the court with His name on our backs, He will be there, like a coach for his boy to comfort us and tell us that all will be well at season's end. 

Tattered Edges and Fingerpringts

Tattered edges and fingerprints are the first thing that I see;
I hold in my hand, pictures so dear reflecting you and me.
Worn and torn, sprinkled with teardrop stains, these pictures with me go
Around the world and back again, through sunshine, rain or snow.

Tattered edges and fingerprints cover the one on the left,
The oldest of all, reflecting the most beautiful theft.
Stealing hearts of all that see timeless friendship in you and me,
Foam curlers, fleece jammies, and smiles, forever friends we will be.

Tattered edges and fingerprints create the most perfect frame
For our deep, brown, glistening eyes with just innocence to claim.
Our baby teeth smile so wide, reflecting on our little joys,
Games, movies, swimming and sleepovers, but not yet stinky boys.

Tattered edges and fingerprints and this time teardrop stains,
Accompany the one in the middle, a day not lived in vain.
Our bright smiles followed our tears, remembering a brother lost,
Holding tight to family and friends as Heaven's boundary was crossed.

Tattered edges and fingerprints in early stage to the right,
Much older then, than the ones on the left, but smiles just as bright.
Ringlets replace our curlers, long dresses replace our jammies,
A fun night filled with laughter and boys, moments you helped me seize. 

Tattered edges and fingerprints don't touch the one on the end
It portrays a recent time, a flat tire our plans did suspend.
Though our lips curve down, twinkling eyes radiate our laughter,
We found the spare, then with blank stares, wondered what to do after.

Tattered edges and fingerprints, display appreciation,
For good times had, hard times survived in this and other nations.
No longer children, innocence faded, dark eyes and bright smiles,
Will emanate and carry forth our friendship for miles and miles.

Tattered edges and fingerprints, the best part of these pictures,
Emblems of reflection, never being confined by strictures. 
In times of strife or loneliness, these pictures I hold in hand,
Portray the memories of you and me that will always stand.

True Valentine

John 3:16
For God
So loved the world
      that He gave His
     only
       begotten
      son so
         that whosoever
    believeth
        in Him shall
   Have everlasting life

This day comes every year, accompanied by the snow.  The windows are laced with thick layers of frost and the ground is sheltered by a blanket of white.  Each breath you take lingers in the air in a cloud of newly formed crystals.  The chill in the air encompasses us all turning our faces red and dry and our toes to sharp icicles.  We hope and pray for the sun, but even when it comes there is no reprieve.  Just enough light peaks through our frozen shield to keep away the darkest, coldest thoughts.  Its rays are seen but are not felt in this bitter time of year.  For the sun is on the other side and won't be back for quite some time.  It penetrates the surface of only one half at a time.  Now is not our turn, we only sit and freeze.  In this bitter agony we will wait for our sweet sunshine to return and melt away the ice. 
Harsh is the atmosphere and thick is the ice but on this day it seems as though its nothing short of paradise.  The storm in my heart that comes every year is raging more now than ever before.  No matter how sheltered, from the top to the bottom, I feel only the cold and nothing else.  A cage of ice has surrounded my heart and all forms of communication are down.  The rivers of blood that stream through my body have become thick and slow.  The ice stops their flow and leaves my heart there.  Alone and cold in that oppressive cage of ice, it starves and it freezes and begins to turn black.  My heart tries to reach through the windows of my soul.  But with every failed attempt that reach stretches farther away.  My eyes become glazed and weary fighting the storm within.  They seem to get darker with each day that passes by. 
Among the winter air there is a buzz humming of sweet and loving sentiments.  Expressions of love that hang frozen in the sky.  Hanging, drifting sentiments pouring raindrops of red and pink, hearts and roses, candy and chocolate onto the lovers below.  Everyone around seems to be showered with love and romance while I stand under my fierce cloud, pierced by freezing rain.  My gaze wanders and traces over all the lovers walking by.  But instead of love my eyes, hardened by the storm inside, see only loneliness.   A lover's romance is nothing short of a frigid reminder that it is not my turn.  Its not my turn to feel that warmth so I sit and freeze.  In this bitter agony I doubt my warm cloud of love will come and melt the wall around my heart.

This blizzard inside weakens my body and I feel the ice in my joints snap as I buckle to the ground.  While on my knees I offer a prayer as one last hope to find some warmth.   I beg and I plead for some sweet relief, for warmth and for sunshine and perhaps less grief.  On my knees down below I feel the ground soften.  The black ice around my eyes begins to melt and turns snow into rain as it pours down my cheeks.  This rain melts the snow in my mind and the ice in my veins and slowly but surely erodes the glacier that encompasses my heart.  With cleaner windows I can finally see, how much I've forgotten and how selfish I've been.  My cloud was only black because my vision was blurred, blurred by the ice that I put there myself.  But I can see now that I am never alone.  For my Father above loved me so dearly.  Even enough to send His son to die for me.  Not only to die but to teach and to comfort.  He taught of His gospel and of our loving Father.  He healed the sick, blind, and lepers and brought peace to the weary.  He knelt on his own as His body poured blood and He hung on that cross as His body poured life.  Down in the garden and up on that hill, every right to be hurt and every right to be sad He whispered a prayer for love and forgiveness though not for His own.  He offered that prayer for whom he bled, suffered, and died.  He offered that prayer for the ones that He loved.  That raging storm He endured, brought everlasting light.  If we seek Him and follow Him, He'll shine is light on us, offering warmth and reprieve form our own storms of grief. 
So I may not have a valentine who'll give me candy, flowers, or cards, but there are always two who give me so much more.  One gave His son and one gave His life.  They know me, they love me and their sun always shines.  They do not love only half at a time, but every part of everyone always and forever.  Even in the bitter agonies of cold and loneliness, their love shines through and will always come to melt away the ice. 


Check out my Etsy Store and join me in showing God's true love in our homes.

Tinted Glasses

Here I am.  It's me.  Standing right in front of you.  The girl you've known so long; almost three years now.  The girl you think you know so well; better than almost anyone.  It's me.  The girl who doesn't dance very well; who lacks a certain rhythm.  The girl who cannot sing, at least not in front of a crowd.  The girl who can't let go and has trouble being free.  The girl who seems so shy, you never know what's on her mind.
Here I am. It's me.  Standing right in front of you.  You look into my eyes, deeper than most ever try. Your gaze makes me believe that you really do see me, the girl you think you know so well.  But is the girl you see really me?  Or is she the girl your tinted glasses make me out to be?  The things you see in me are true.  But they are only pieces of the puzzle; most certainly not the whole picture.  Take off the glasses and you're mind will be blown by what you find.
Here I am.  It's me.  Standing right in front of you.  The girl you don't know at all.  The girls who loves to let loose on an afternoon drive or in a cold mountain stream.  The girl who would drop everything just to go on a crazy adventure with you.  The girl who's wittier than you'll ever realize because often it's over your head.  The girl who doesn't need to be crazy, because she's comfortable with herself .  The girl who can get along with anybody as long as they can get along with her.
Here I am.  It's me.  Standing right in front of you.  But I won't be here for long if you can't learn to see me right. I won't be here for long if you can only see the qualities I lack instead of the ones I possess.  If you can't love me for me, the real me, not just the one you see, then I will no longer be here, standing in front of you.  Take off the tinted glasses or watch me walk away.  There you'll be.  Just you.  Standing alone as I walk away from you.

One Thousand Words

They say one picture can be worth one thousand words, and up until this point I believed it was true.  But as I stood upon that great hill, engulfed in wondrous nature and timeless history, I thought to myself that if a picture is truly worth only one thousand words, than a even a million pictures could not do justice to the scene before my eyes.  
Our adventure began with breakfast at the wee hour of 4:45 a.m. Forty-five minutes later we were lined up along the streets, tickets in hand, waiting to load the buses that would take us to Machu Picchu.  Hundreds of people were waiting in line with us, just as eager and just as tired.  The line we waited in was moving faster than the sun was rising and we were lucky to have made it onto a bus shortly after entering the line.  The bus ride was an adventure in and of itself and of the thirty minutes that it took to get to the top, I had visions of dying a terrible death during every single one of them.  The roads were nothing but packed dirt and loose pebbles that snaked sharply on the side of the steep hill like neglected vines overtaking a home.  The American mind is inclined to believe that there would be room for only one bus on the road at a time, however the Peruvian mind is inclined to think otherwise.  We passed multiple other buses on our bumpy journey to the top, each time praying we would scrape by without tipping over the sheer edge.  By the time we reached our destination at the top, we were met with a rush of relief.  Our adrenaline levels were soaring higher than the altitude as we waited in line to enter one of the world wonders.   As we walked through the gates, hearts racing and minds excited, it took only seconds to understand why this is in fact a wonder of the world.  
The morning sun was still hiding behind the towering mountains waiting to make its debut for the day’s new crowd of tourists.  Waiting for the sun’s arrival, the ruins were faintly lit by a light dusk but was clouded by the morning mist.   The mist hung around the valley and the ruins while it encircled the peaks, providing an extra dampness to the already humid climate.  We walked briskly through the ancient, hilltop town and made friends with some of the llamas on our way to the other side.  At the other side it was time to wait in line again for our entrance to the main event, our hike to Huaynapicchu.  While we waited for our turn to pass through the gate, we were accompanied by many others as well as the rising sun.  Waiting in lines has never been as peaceful and beautiful as this was.  We watched anxiously as we could see the tiny rays creep over the top of the giant, rigid hills and expand every second.  A few minutes later the whole valley of Machu Picchu, was fully illuminated by the white-hot rays of the sun and it felt as if the real action of our day could begin.  Shortly after the arrival of light, we were able to begin our journey to the top of the main peak and we set off excitedly.   Hiking to the top required much concentration as it was incredibly steep.  The side of the hill was laced with an uneven and decaying staircase that weaved its way along the outer shell of the mountain.  With each step you could feel the burn in your calves and thighs, but knowing that each step was bringing you closer to the top made the burning sensation worth it.   At any given moment you could not only stop to take in a breath, but also to take in an impeccable view of gigantic, skeletal mountains surrounding and protecting the heart of the valley, one of the world’s breathtaking wonders.  With every step closer to the top, the beauty and wonder were only compounded.  When we had finally lunged our way to the top it was only to discover that the top was quite literally just a pile of rocks being held together at the peak by invisible forces.  With one wrong move one could easily find the quickest way back to the bottom.   Up there on what felt like the top of the world, we sat on the edge of rocks and enjoyed a scene that would seem impossible if not right in front of our eyes.  To call it breathtaking seems harshly inadequate because of the intricacy of God’s creation but also because of the high altitude.  
Our journey back down the mountain gave new light to the phrase, “it’s all downhill from here.”  Physically it was obviously all downhill but metaphorically it seemed that nothing could trump the view our eyes had just been blessed with.  Almost halfway down I stopped at some ruins that looked as if they could have been an ancient home.  It was small and humble and falling apart, but the view from the window beheld a priceless overlook of Machu Picchu.  Machu Picchu is a fairly large civilization but from this high up it was merely the size of my palm.  Looking down on that wondrous culture I was looking forward to getting back down there to immerse myself in the history and the view I had enjoyed from the top.  We continued crawling back down the mountain and into the city of the Incas, this time illuminated by the afternoon sun and free from the morning mist.  The afternoon was spent immersed in Incan culture and stunning beauty.    Words and pictures can never be enough to fully describe the events and grandeur of that day.  Just in case, in an effort to help you see the beauty, in conjunction with a few pictures, here are my one thousand words.   

Sacred Valley

It's no wonder they call the valley sacred.  With it's majestic mountains and it's ancient ruins, it truly is a place of wonder.  The mountains stand taller than any I've ever seen and act as protectors of the valleys and their inhabitants.  the valleys are filled with farmers who work tirelessly to harvest the plethora of crops around and peddlers who spend their days in their tiendas at the markets waiting for the tourists to come crawling through.  The Urubamba River weaves its way through, bringing life and refreshment to the beautiful sacred valley.  It is considered sacred not only for its stunning beauty but also because it is saturated with the history of the people of this country.  here in this valley are many ancient ruins of the once powerful empire of the Incas.  The Incas spent years constructing their dwellings out of rocks and the structures thereof are something of a spectacular feat., well beyond their time.  Thanks to time and the Spanish Conquistadors, sadly all that is left of these marvelous wonders is ruins.  But as one walks through these ruins it is not difficult to see the elegance that was once there and see the fruits of their hard labor.  being in these ruins was the closest to time travel I´ve ever been.  Touching those perfectly chiseled rocks that have stood immovable for hundreds of years, each one with a story to tell, felt almost as if we'd gone back in time.  People may wonder where it gets its name, but if you visit yourself you'll understand that it truly is a sacred valley.

Knights in Peru

As knights in Peru we've been blessed with many amazing experiences.  At 11,000 feet high, in an ancient imperial city, it often feels as though we're on top of the world.  From the culture to the scenery our minds and our eyes are never left for want.  There is so much history, from which we are learning and with cultural differences our eyes are being opened to a whole new world.   Majestic mountains with thousands of years worth of secrets, surround the city and watch over its inhabitants.  Each day I see them my heart grows fuller and prays that the image will stay fresh in my mind forever.  They say traveling is the only thing you buy that can make you richer, and I truly believe it.  For although my bank account is now empty, my heart and my mind are full.  

Although many lessons have been learned the most important of them all has nothing to do with history, culture or natural beauty.  The most important lesson learned was in the most unlikely state.  Over the past few days many of us have fallen ill and being sick in foreign country can open up a whole new level of discomfort.  It was during this discomfort that I was reminded that the gospel is true on no matter which continent.   During my weak and fallen state I was brought back to comfort with the power of the priesthood.  Oh how blessed I am to have been reminded that no matter what continent I am on, or what language is being spoken around me, Christ's love and gospel is steadfast and immovable.  The same yesterday, today and forever... no matter where you are!  My heart is full of gratitude for my worthy knights in Peru.

My Mountain

From the bottom to the top, from the canyon to the face, my mountain is mine, and in my heart has a place.   My Mountain stands tall, just the way I like, up there so high, I can’t wait to hike. My mountain is jagged, and has weathered many storms, though some are rough, I love all its forms.  My mountain has been burned but it never crumbles, instead it cleanses, and remains so humble.  My mountain is home to many animals around, and a plethora of plants, to it are bound.  My mountain is laced with many rivers and streams, replenishing the earth and everyone it seems.  My mountain is peppered and dotted with lakes, some are big, some are small, but none of them fake.  My mountain is capped with pure, white snow, feeding the rivers and lakes down below.  My mountain is strong and this valley protects, from multiple storms standing high, so elect.  My mountain can be cold, but with the right gear, warmth can be found with no reason to fear.  My mountain has secrets, some I have found, others not yet, but surely I’m bound.  My mountain lets me trod all over its tracks, and never complains only smiles right back.  My mountain waits for me to get to the top, and when I am there, I sit and I stop.  My mountain shares with me a spectacular view, a view I wish I could share with you.  My mountain is not perfect, but I have discovered, its beauty and grace with much more to uncover.  From the bottom to the top, my mountain I have climbed, my mountain is mine because I’ve given it my time.  

From the bottom to the top, from the heart to the face, we are all mountains, in our own special case.  I am not very tall and that’s quite okay, I’m just the right size in my own special way.  I am quite jagged, and I’ve seen many storms, but they’ve made me who I am, in all ways, shapes and forms.  I have sadly been burned but I try not to crumble, I learn from the bad and try to stay humble.  I keep inside a home for those I love, and pray for them always to God above.  I have tears that turn to rivers, though sometimes just streams, but I let them flow and I eventually beam. I’ve been blessed with lakes of experiences and skills, to help those around me and bring them some thrills.  I have been capped with a hardworking mind, to feed the desires that my heart may find.  I am not always strong but I put forth effort, to protect those I love from ever getting hurt.    I am sometimes cold, of which I’m not proud, but with the right smile, my snow can be plowed.  I hold others up, let them walk all around, and never complain, for to Christ I am bound.  I wait for someone to get to the top, but most of the time people just stop.  I have access to a beautiful view, through my eyes only, but I can share with you.  I am nowhere near perfect but deep down inside, I am a good person with nothing to hide.  From the bottom to the top, this mountain you can climb, I’ll surely be yours if you’ll give me some time.  

The Imperial City

Cusco, Peru was the capital city of the Incan Empire hundreds and hundreds of years ago.  And now, although the city has changed, it is not difficult to see why. The city is cradled in a beautiful valley that rests 11,000 feet high in the midst of majestic mountains.  Not far from the city, the Urubamba River rushes through keeping the lands fertile.  Literally thousands of crops are grown here and every one that I´ve tasted has been delectable.  There is never a shortage of crops for food and this area has been overflowing with natural resources such as silver and gold.  The temperature is never too extreme in either direction and the scenery never leaves your eyes unsatisfied.  Every day in Cusco I see the friendly faces of the locals, smell the delicious food, soak in the gorgeous background and walk through ancient ruins of the Incas as well as more recent Spanish architecture and I think to myself, "This truly is an Imperial City".

Traditional

One of the best parts of visiting the islands was getting to fully experience traditions of their culture.  We started off with a very traditional lunch of quinoa soup, fried cheese, various sweet potatoes and beans.  I can honestly say it was one of the best, most authentic meals I've ever had the pleasure of putting into my mouth.  Shortly after the meal we were taken on a hike to some of the ruins at the top.  There at the top we soaked in the beauty as well as participated in the tradition of walking around the temple 3 times, each time making a wish.  Later that evening we were treated to another traditional meal which remains unidentifiable, but still good and then we were taken to the town hall.  When I say 'town hall' keep in mind that that doesn't mean it was big... we were crowded with maybe 100 people in there.  There we were treated to a fiesta with a live band and lots of traditional dancing.  The dancing mostly consisted of holding hands and moving around in a circle.  But with our American spirit we improvised and added some of our own moves, much to the shock and awe of the sheltered locals. The most traditional part of the evening however, was definitely the clothing.  Our housemothers dressed us each in the traditional clothing that they wear every day.  I wish I could accurately describe the clothing but all I can say is that it was heavy and constricting... but still fun to wear for a short time!  Hopefully pictures can help me in describing this part...

Heaven on Earth

I have been blessed with opportunities to travel to many places around this world.  Throughout my travels to over 12 countries, over 20 foreign cities and regions, and a good portion of the United States, I have never found a place that surpasses the true beauty of my home valley.  Until now.  This past weekend we took an excursion by boat through Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world, to some of the best kept secrets in the world.  Our excursion took us through many floating islands and past normal islands and landed us on the island of Amantani. Amantani rests in the Peruvian side of the lake with just a few thousand inhabitants.  I fell in love with the beauty of this island the second our boat pulled into the dock.  The island is flourishing with beautiful flowers and trees and the slopes of the hills are covered in cascading terraces where they plant their vast variety of crops, off of which they live.  The homes are perfectly and simply constructed out of cement with tin or grass roofs.  Each one resting on various levels of the side of the hill, possessing its own unique and breathtaking view of the lake with smaller islands and jutting mountains off in the distance.  Standing at the ruins at the highest point of the island can easily make one feel as if they are on top of the world.  I've never felt closer to heaven than when I stood there taking in the view of the water reflecting the orange and red clouds as the sun set behind them.  Waking up in the morning and looking outside my door directly to this spectacular view, I thought to myself, this truly must be a heaven on earth.

If only the picture could do it justice

view out to the lake from my room

ruling the island ;)

Legend of the Uros

The Uros are a group of people who live on floating islands in Lake Titicaca, Peru.  the floating islands are quite literally just that... floating islands.  The people who live on them, the Uros, make the islands out of totora reeds that grow in the lake.  There are many layers of reeds, criss-crossing, to make the foundation that they live on.  Even the huts that they dwell in and the boats that they travel in are well constructed with tightly  wound reeds.  The legend of these strange people that float around on a lake their whole lives is simple and goes like this:  They believe that their ancestors existed before the sun and the moon.  They were immune to drowning and being struck by lightning.  They only lost their superior status when they disobeyed universal order and mixed with human beings.  Since then they have been scattered but remain on their various floating islands as the Uro tribes.  As we visited these people and their minuscule islands that were maybe 100 feet wide, it felt as if we'd gone back in time.  Each family lives in a tiny hut with one bed.  There is little to no electricity throughout these islands and they make nearly all of their own clothes as well as many beautiful handicrafts.   The lives of these people revolve simply around surviving.  Throughout their lives, their islands must be constantly added onto with more reeds as the bottom layers slowly disintegrate.  Although I don´t believe in the legend of their ancestors, I believe that if you can live in the middle of a massive lake on nothing but reeds for your entire life, you truly can be considered legend.

Night Bus

Chair on a bus is your bed for the night,

What a dreadful thought, oh what a great fright.

An eight hour drive, with no end in sight,

In this chair on a bus, your bed for the night.

The seats lay down so it is not so bad,

But when we get there, I will be so glad.

Eight hours of this and I could be so mad,

But the seats lay down, so its not so bad.

He lies beside me and keeps me so warm,

From the cold that surrounds me in a swarm.

An eight hour drive, with hopes of no storm,

And he lies beside me, and keeps me warm.

It’s with great effort that I fall asleep,

But once I fall, I fall so very deep.

Eight hours of this, and I try to count sheep,

Only with effort will I fall asleep.

The morning has come but we see no sun,

The day has begun and soon will be fun.

An eight hour drive and we’re finally done,

The morning is here, without the bright sun. 

Universal Laughter

"Everybody laughs the same in every language because laughter is a universal connection." - Yakov Smirnoff

Often during our nights in Cusco, Peru we find ourselves wandering the streets through plazas and markets, thoroughly enjoying the beauty and the culture.  As we do so I am frequently overwhelmed by the language being spoken around me.  While there are many words that I recognize and a few phrases I can say, my brain gets scared and exhausted from the constant failed translations.  People are talking in various speeds and tones all around me and I struggle to understand.  It is all I can do to decipher a small portion of what they say.  But if nothing else, I've learned from my plethora of traveling experiences that the most important languages are not spoken with the mouth or deciphered by the mind.  The most important languages are felt.  Throughout this world there are billions of people who learn and speak various languages, but one thing every single one of us has in common is a human heart with which we can communicate through feelings.  

My favorite part about our nights in Peru, and the days for that matter, is the connection we make with the people that we don't always understand.  Young girls often like to approach Brady, because he is tall, handsome and fun, and try to sell him whatever they have to offer that day.  Although he can communicate almost perfectly with them, I am usually confused.  But one thing that I understand perfectly is the laughter that is always exchanged.  The words that they speak don't always make sense... but when I hear their giggles I understand them perfectly; I know exactly how they feel.  The exchange of laughter with smiling eyes can be communicated across any language or culture perfectly with the hearts that we've all been blessed with.

One Hand

If we give ourselves unto Christ, he promises to never leave us alone.  My testimony of this promise has grown tremendously strong over the last few years, particularly through my international travels.  When I was 19 years old I moved to Austria by myself to live with a family I'd never met before.  Although physically I've never felt more alone, I knew that Christ was with me spiritually.  As an adventurous soul I found myself wandering around the European continent often.  I loved visiting other cities and taking in all the history, scenery, culture, and beauty!  Often my ventures would get me into a slightly troubled situation such as wandering down a dangerous alley, taking the wrong bus or train, and getting lost in a foreign country.  But never did I feel that I was in real danger because I felt Christ with me at all times.  If I was alone I could feel His presence at my right hand always.  He would often guide me through cities and help me out of the silly predicaments I wandered into.  Sometimes He would even bless me with a friend to stand by me and wander with me physically.  But no matter what, he was always there, someway, somehow guiding me with one hand.
Last year when my unquenchable thirst for traveling got the better of me again, and I wandered to India by myself, no doubt He was there.  He sat by me in the airport as I endured a 14-hour layover in Italy and guided me to safety and health when I became sick and stressed during another layover in New-Delhi.  When finances fell through, He blessed me with good Samaritans who took great care of me and when I thought I was going to be lonely for the whole trip, he led me towards new, very special friends.  He sat with me as I helped the suffering and He walked with me as I walked through a lifelong dream of seeing the Taj Mahal.  Again He was there, protecting me and guiding me with one hand.
 Now as I sit in my room in another foreign country on a totally new continent for me I can't help but see His influence and guidance in my life yet again.  I feel Christ with me as I wander through the streets of Cusco, Peru.  I feel his calming influence as I restlessly want to experience everything this city has to offer.  When I wander too far into the street I feel Him pull me back to safety.  This time He is with me in more than spirit form.  He is with me in the form of an old friend; one I already have a deep love and respect for.  He is still here, guiding me and protecting me, through my best friend, with one hand.