(musings) every step counts

Every. Single. Step.

They all count, even the ones that are small - the ones that seem insignificant. Even the ones that seem to stumble backwards. All count, all are steps toward the prize of Christ for those who hunger for Him. All are steps toward the glory of God - even for those who deny Him.

There is no worthless day. There is no wasted journey. Every life tells a story. Even yours. Even mine.

Little is Much - Eleana

I’m sitting on the balcony of our home in Austin, listening to the birds happily sing their symphony to sunshine and spring. The breeze is strong and the air almost sparkles with the freshness of the season. The music of Amy Courts is a perfect soundtrack for the day. I look down at the woven sisal rug that adorns our little outdoor living area, and my heart is whisked away to other birds and other breezes and other fragrances – and to a woman named Eleana.

Cerro de Oro, from Lake Atitlan

Little is Much - Victoria

I love little fighters. You know the ones – the kids that seem to defy the odds every day. The children that keep saying, “I will not let my circumstances define me.” There are so many of them here in Guatemala. I remember years ago meeting a bright-eyed teen named Cecilia. She had literally grown up in government orphanages. But she was a tenacious girl, and she saw a life bigger than her cinder block and razor wire walls. It was that spirit that allowed her to live in a transition home with several other young women. I asked her what she wanted to do with her life, and she was resolute in her answer. “I want to be an attorney. I want to make a change in my country.”

Little is Much - Irma

She’s a tiny little thing, with a shock of disheveled black hair and huge eyes that seem to drink in everything around her. She journeys to Eagle’s Nest every day at lunch with her aunt (only a few years older than she is), where she will be fed a hot meal. More often than not, you’ll see her take a portion of her food and put it in a plastic bag or a cap to take home to other family members. Her aunt will then let her eat any scraps left from her plate.

Irma and her aunt, eating lunch at the Manna program at Eagle's Nest.

Her name is Irma. And she makes my heart smile.

Little is Much - Jose Pablo

Never underestimate the power of little.

We watched through the window as the nine 3 and 4-year olds and their caregivers, also known as “mamas,” marched around the building to our door. This was a rare treat for them – an opportunity to be little chefs. Most of the children live at Eagle’s Nest, an orphanage nestled high in the hills overlooking Lake Atitlan in western Guatemala. The children’s home currently has 22 little residents, ranging in age from newborn to 13. At Eagle’s Nest, they are are provided more than food and shelter – the kids are given a good education, lots of love, and a strong foundation of faith. The children are reminded of their worth and value daily.  It is evident in their eyes.

(musings) a small canvas

My canvas is still too small. My colors are too limited. My point of view is still skewed.


Oh Lord, please help me to see the fulness of You. Let my palette hold every eternally beautiful vibrant and monotone hue. May I truly understand You as a God who is Lord of the day of goodness and Lord of the day of trouble.


Let each stroke in the story my life paints tell its own story - of fear and salvation, wrath and mercy, sorrow and joy. And let the painting grow richer in depth and texture as it reveals more and more of You.

(musings) come and listen

God Himself crafted the story of salvation, and then, with wonderfully vivid and dark hues, Jesus hand-painted each illustration. He embossed the storybook with the cross, and His Holy Spirit personally reads it to each of us.

He didn't write the story for angels, didn't write the story for earth.  He wrote it for you. And me. And those we love - and hate - the most.

Come and listen.

(musings) a clear view

Time is such a peculiar thing. It always seems to fly by or crawl, one tick of the second hand at a time. Simple and profound moments cause the shift from one extreme to another, crafting a beautifully blurred stop-motion movie of life. 

Somewhere between the fast-forward and the frame-by-frame, what's important comes into clear view.

Eternity. Community. Divinity.

(musings) being somebody

I am so thankful for everyday, ordinary people. They trump pedigrees, resumes and fancy titles any day. 


In a world where everybody wants to be a somebody, I think being a nobody just might be the most profound thing ever.