Home Sweet Home

I can not believe that one week ago today I boarded a plane in Bolivia and made my way back to the States! I feel like I've packed in a summer's worth of adventures in the past week alone, not to mention all of the adventures I had the previous three weeks in Bolivia!

From Bolivia to Miami, and from Miami to Baltimore. I sat by a sweet older couple, and when I told the woman that I was just coming back from a mission's trip in Bolivia, she hit her husband and said, "Listen to this! She was just on a mission's trip in Bolivia!" Then she turned to me and continued, "Now, tell us again!" So sweet.

In Maryland I got to take part in this girl's wedding! So blessed that I was able to share in such a special day with Jesse and Kelly Burgin!

But the wedding was just the beginning of my long, drawn out adventure to get home. I was dropped off at the Baltimore Airport at 10:45pm to spend the night - the beauty of having a flight scheduled for 6:40 the following morning. I felt like I was trapped in a bad comedy, because NO ONE was at any of the airline luggage check-in desks. I was finally in a place where I could more easily communicate with people, but no one was around to pose my questions to. I felt like a lost puppy. I eventually tucked myself in a back hallway I discovered with some chairs, propped my luggage and backpack around me, and tried to get some sleep. I'm lucky if I got a full half hour. I read my book off and on. This would be an experience to remember, for sure, and laugh about one day. Airport security and cleaning crew persons made their rounds, and I felt their awkward stares every time they passed. Finally, around 4:30am I went to check on the status of luggage check-in. What do ya know, people were there! I was in a functional airport! I checked my baggage, went through security, found my gate, grabbed a cup of coffee, munched on a granola bar, and did my devotion as I waited for my flight. At 6:10am I boarded my plane, eagerly awaiting my 6:40 departure and the promise of seeing my family.

But, due to the adventurous and unexpected nature of my travels, this was not to be. 6:40 rolled around, and the pilot came over the speakers to inform us that there was a problem with the air system in the cockpit and they'd have to reset it. A maintenance issue that could take up to an hour. I tried not to panic. Everyone on the plane was getting antsy and was clearly frustrated. I prayed over the plane, and for the mechanics, and for peace for the travelers. I joked around with the couple sitting next to me, although I'm not sure I made much sense on the little amount of sleep I had.

Finally, at 8:10, our plane took off. Our pilot estimated a 50 minute flight. My connecting flight in Charlotte was scheduled for 9:40. Perfect! No need to worry. We'd be there in plenty of time. We landed about 9:05, and I breathed easier. Until we taxied. And taxied. And then we were informed that they didn't have a gate for us. The minutes ticked by. Every passenger with a connecting flight got more anxious. I tried to keep a level head, although I was ready to volunteer to run across the tarmac. "I'm just trying to get to Indy to say goodbye to my brother!" I wanted to shout to the airline, or whoever would listen. He was preparing to leave for Hawaii to be stationed there for the next four years in the Navy. I had a very short window of opportunity to make it to Indy to see him for the first time in almost a year. Panic was rising.

At 9:35, we pulled into a gate. The couple sitting next to me plotted, "All right, he's going to grab your bag for you, and then we'll block the aisle for you so you can run." Sitting in the fifth row came in handy then. Seatbelt sign went off, and everyone made a mad dash for their bags. I got my bag, and then the couple shouted, "Go!" I hurried off the plane into the long hallway. A gentleman pulling his luggage in front of me stepped to the side and yelled, "Run!" I did. My next gate was two away from the gate I was exiting, so I rushed to my next gate. The operator looked up at me and said, "The flight already left." It was 9:38. I was in shock. I fought to hold back tears as the lady at the desk printed me a new ticket for the 11:30 flight to Indy. And then I went to the bathroom. And yes, I cried. I wish I could say I laughed it off, and composed myself like a well put-together young lady who's used to things not going her way when it comes to travel. I did not. I texted my family of my flight change, and then put my phone away. I couldn't accept or handle pity, or sympathy, or encouragement. I was exhausted, and sick, and I had missed my flight. I thought of James 1:2 that told me to "consider it pure joy when you face trials of many kinds."

I did not consider this pure joy.

I eventually pulled myself together, found my next gate, read my book, fought back more tears, rested my eyes, listened to music on my iPod, and chatted with God. I was not feeling very lovable in that moment.

After all of that, everything else went off without a hitch. I arrived in Indianapolis at 1:10 and went to collect my bag at baggage claim. My family was coming to meet me at the airport for lunch, before we'd all head our separate ways. I had made it, but just barely. As I was waiting for my bag, I saw my brother across the way. I called out, "Caleb!" He came over to greet me. I grabbed my bag off the carousel, and he asked, "You ready to grab some lunch?" I shook my head...and lost it again. I was so happy to see him, but I was so overwhelmed. It was quite the long and exhausting journey to make it there. He hugged me, and I choked back tears. I pulled myself together, and we went to see the rest of my family. More tears. But I had made it! Lunch went by too quickly, as time often does, and we all said our goodbyes.

The next day my dad and I visited the Creation Museum, and then it was a long drive back to Wisconsin. But I rolled into our driveway at 10pm Monday night. My adventurous three weeks was coming to a close!

It feels good to be home. I'm adjusting better to home life and the culture here in the US better this year. But I haven't had too much time to process my experience in Bolivia yet. I know this trip changed me - I just haven't quite put my finger on how yet. But I don't want to be the same Cora I was before I left almost four weeks ago. God did big things, and He worked in small changes in my life too.

Stay tuned as I process those things. I'm working on a post-trip debrief letter. It's hard to boil down three weeks of experiences into a clear and concise letter. But I'm ever so grateful for the support I had on my trip down there, and I want to be able to communicate my experience!

God's People, Our Mission

The days are long, but the week is short.

I knew this going into the Ayoré camp: expect the unexpected, but trust that ultimately God has everything under control. It's not easy to rise before the sun and go to bed long after it sets, and rally your energy for every waking moment to encourage and stir up excitement in those around you. But it's definitely worth it.

The week had its challenges, to be sure. Our toilet broke our second day there. The girls almost killed a bird. Some girls from one of the communities broke into the room of one of the other communities and knocked some of the mattresses off the bunks. 12 of the girls were picked up half way through the week when a community leader came to deal with some girls that were being disruptive.

But God redeems brokenness. The four girls that were being disruptive were not taken back with the rest of their community. One of the girls, Bebeli, went and apologized to Sandra for her behavior. Sandra shared that in her 10 years working with the Ayoré, this is the first time she has received an apology.

I was blessed with Glaribel, one of the older Ayoré girls in my group who took me under her wing, helping me build closer relationships with the others, gave me grace with my Spanish, and put the other girls in line in our Bible story times. She was eager to interact with the Bible stories, partake in the worship times and go above and beyond in the dramas each night.

But perhaps my most exciting and encouraging part of the week was witnessing the change in this girl, Monica. She was also in my group last year, and I remembered her for a couple of reasons: one, she hated having to sit still and be a part of my small group and liked to run off, and two, she stuck her spoon in my food. She was one of the wilder girls. But this year, I got to witness God's transforming power in her life. She loved Bible story time and wanted to interact with the stories and help me tell them through drama. She wanted to sing the worship songs over and over again. She threw her arms around me in a hug during games one day, and another morning she looked up at me and told me I was pretty. She helped me with the names of the other girls. There was such joy on her face during her time at the camp - she made me excited to be up in the morning.

These camps are making a difference in these girls' lives. The gospel is being preached. God is at work. During this past week, the girls got to be just that: girls. They weren't looked at as an oppressed people group, or judged as prostitutes. God's love was lavished upon them by dedicated volunteers and Ayoré women. 

Although the Ayoré are a small people group, and many people will never hear their name mentioned or hear their language uttered, this last week I had the privilege of worshiping God with them. And as we worshipped God in ayoreo, Spanish, English, and other languages, I got a foretaste of what it will be like in Heaven, where every nation, tribe, and tongue will be represented. And I got to worship with these girls and women on this side of heaven. How amazing is that?!

I sang 'Hakuna Mungu' and 'Do You Love Your Jesus' more times than I can count, and my voice is hoarse from shouting 'Equipo Verde' and 'grupos pequeños' a gazillion times...but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. How awesome to wake up every morning with a purpose, and to be a part of God's redemptive work among the Ayoré. Because I truly believe that the girls going through these camps and learning the truth of God's Word are the generation that are going to play a role in transforming and redeeming their culture and communities.

Thank you so much for your prayers this past week. They were definitely felt! But please join with me in continuing to pray for the Ayoré, that God would build His Kingdom among them. That they wouldn't become more like us, but that they would become more like Jesus.

It's hard to say goodbye. These girls have captured my heart. It's hard to minister cross-culturally. It takes sacrifice. But I look at the inspirational people I've served alongside of, and I see Jesus in them. And I know I have no right to give any less than them.

So how do I sum up this last week? There were moments where my heart was so full I could burst, and others where I was incredibly discouraged. But God was there each and every moment, and where I am weak, He is strong. Every face has a name, and every name has a story. And God cares about each one. This last week, my story got to intertwine with theirs. And I am so incredibly blessed.

Blessings in Bolivia

Saludos de Bolivia! It's been almost a week, and it is such a joy to be back. My team has been packing our days with cross cultural training, prep for the Ayore camp next week, exploring Santa Cruz, and learning and performing a skit at the university with CCU (Comunidad Cristiana Universitaria). The days are long, but the week has flown by!

Today, we assisted a church in hosting their Bible school for kids in their community. I saw Pablo, my Bolivian brother in Christ, teach our group of kids the good news of Jesus and the importance of sharing God's word. Afterwards we performed our skit for them, and then gave out balloons and blew bubbles with them. So much fun! And so neat to witness the truth of God being taught in another part of the world!

Tomorrow we head out to the Ayore camp! I would really appreciate your prayers - a lot of spiritual warfare surrounds the work South America Mission and our Global Projet teams have done putting on these camps for the girls. But I'm so blessed to be a part of this again this year, and I'm excited to see familiar faces! We visited an Ayore community this morning, and one of the girls who is 15 and went through the camps and was recently married said that because of the camps and learning about Jesus, she has chosen a different path. And other girls in that community have made the decision to wait until they are 15 to get married. (Getting married very young is incredibly common among the Ayore.) So exciting to know that the work being done with the Ayore for God's glory is making an impact!

Life is such an adventure. And I am so blessed that my adventure brought me here.

(A picture from last year's campamento)

My Letter From Bolivia

First of all, Happy Father's Day!

Second of all, one week from today I'll be getting on a plane to fly to Bolivia!

Last summer I had the awesome opportunity and privilege to be part of an InterVarsity Global Project to Santa Cruz, Bolivia, where my team and I served in a variety of ways, one being helping South America Mission host a week-long camp for Ayore girls at risk of being trafficked or pressured into prostitution.

During our time in Bolivia, our project directors had us write a letter to ourselves that they would send to us in six months. In January, I received that letter, and to be honest, I had forgotten I had written it! And I was surprised, and encouraged, by what I read. Now, it may sound odd to you to think of writing a letter to yourself. And I'll admit, when I was writing it, it did feel...strange. How do you keep a letter like that from sounding cheesy, especially when you're from Wisconsin, where cheese practically runs in your veins?

I will say this: six months post-Bolivia, those words I had penned were exactly what I needed to hear. Words of encouragement for the person I was becoming. Reminders of the friends I had made in Bolivia. Exhorting myself to seek after God, and fall deeper in love with Him and His Word. To stand up for the oppressed, and to remember the power of prayer.

In my letter, I wrote, "Are you planning on going back to Bolivia? I hope you are."

Well, past-self, I think you'd be proud of me. Because I am indeed returning to Bolivia! And I couldn't be more excited and blessed.

I'm excited,

to be a part of God's global mission. To partner with some of the most inspiring and courageous and self-sacrificial people I have ever met. To see friends and brothers- and sisters-in-Christ. To serve in ways that force me to step outside of my comfort zone.

And I'm blessed,

to see what God has done in this past year. To continue building relationships in another part of the world. To give of the gifts God has given me to bless others. To learn and experience new things. To be surrounded by those who have partnered with me financially and through prayer to get me there. And to return to the place that captured my heart.

Please join in praying with me for the ministries we will be partnering with: GATHER, CCU, and SAM. Pray for safe travels and health for my team. Pray for the Ayore girls, and that chains would be broken as they experience the love of Christ, and the victory found in Him. And pray that God would strengthen His church, as we work to build His Kingdom here.

Bolivia, mi amor...

I'm coming home!

The Little Things

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and today, I'm going to let them do most of the talking.

Yesterday, after almost 17 years, we had to put our beloved dog Toby to sleep. I guess I always thought that he would somehow live forever - reality is a crushing thing.

This is when I first set eyes on Toby.

Together, we grew from this...

...to this.

Toby was the best dog our family could have asked for. 

He was a feisty rascal sometimes, to be sure. He was a professional escape artist, and enjoyed gallivanting through the streets of Burlington unattended. His bark could go on for hours without growing hoarse, and he turned into an acrobat that could perform amazing feats in order to reach food that seemed just out of reach.

But one look into his puppy-dog eyes, and he made your heart melt.

I don't remember what life was like without Toby. We grew up together, and he's seen me through so many major (and minor) life events and changes. He's been my main man, my partner in crime, my snuggle buddy, my greeting committee, and best friend.

And it hurts to finally have to say goodbye.

RIP, Toby. Thanks for the memories. Love you always.

"Sometimes," said Pooh, "the smallest things take up the most room in your heart."

My Year in Review

What an adventure 2013 was!

But since it kicked off at Urbana, I guess I shouldn't have expected any less.

This year has been full of joy, challenges, heartbreak, wonder, responsibility, and so much more. And though I very often fall short, I am striving to grow in my relationship with God and become the young woman He wants me to be.

So, in honor of New Year's, here's a look back on my adventures of 2013:

• I went to Urbana
• Two of my siblings got married
• I declared my major (and minor!)
• I got my wisdom teeth out
• I traveled out of the country for the first time
• I fell in love with Bolivia and the awesome family I have there (my brothers and sisters in Christ!)
• I got to fulfill my dream of being a princess
• I made my first 911 phone call
• I learned what it feels like to burn out and how rest is necessary in order to be a world changer (#Radical...)
• I turned 21
• I found out I'm going to be an aunt!

A year ago today, I did not see any of this coming. And of course, this is only the tip of the iceberg - 2013 was filled with adventures and life lessons up the wazoo. I made so many wonderful new friendships, and strengthened old ones. I rejoiced in successes, and endured failures. I laughed. I cried.

This year flew by. I have no idea where the last four months went. But here I am, all the same. And though I have no idea what 2014 has in store, I'm excited to see what God is going to do in me, through me, and in the lives of those around me. I'm excited for the adventures I'm going to have and the opportunities that await.

New Year's Resolutions, you ask?

Well, I'd like to take more risks, I guess. I want to become better at failing, so I can learn from those experiences and not let them defeat me. 

I want to be intentional in my relationships.

And I guess one of the biggest things I want to commit to this year is resting in God. I want to change the world, but in order to do so, I have to be plugged into Him and allow Him to fill me with the strength I need.

So bring it, 2014. I may not be entirely ready for you, but I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

Go team.

Fragile

via

As class ended today, my professor paused.

"I wanted to wait until the end of class to tell you all this. 

One of your classmates died."

I wasn't planning on blogging about anything else before I was able to write a debrief on my experience in Bolivia. But I couldn't ignore the need to write about this.

I didn't really know the guy. The most interaction I had with him was probably last Thursday, when a couple of us were joking with each other in the back row. I only found out his name today.

But I know that he had friends and family outside of that classroom that did know him. Right now, they're experiencing the shock and grief of a young life ended too soon. And I'm reminded of when I was in 8th grade and I found out that two of my classmates died in a car accident.

Life is fragile. Time and chance happen to us all. But I know I'm guilty of believing that I'm invincible. It's times like this that remind me that I'm not - life is short.

I may not have known this student, but his presence will be missed in our class, because we're cursed with the knowledge that he will never have the opportunity to join us again. His empty seat will be our reminder.

And it makes me wonder: what's the point of it all? As students, we study hard so that when we graduate we can go off into the world and makes tons of money. We fight to fit in a social life and have a great time with friends, or devote time to our families. We work one or two jobs to pay for as much school as we can so we don't have as much debt to pay back. We manage to fit sleep in there somewhere.

And in there, quite often, we miss out on a lot of joy because we're so stressed out. What are we really living for? Ourselves?

I don't know if this guy knew Jesus. I don't know if there was anyone in his life to share the gospel with him. But it makes me wonder, is what I'm doing on this campus making a difference? When people see me, do they see Jesus? Am I sharing that hope with people? Because there are people who are lost and in need of a Savior. And death doesn't always wait for us to be ready.

I'm still processing the whole situation, so I apologize if this doesn't make sense. But here are a couple questions that I'm asking myself, and maybe you might want to ponder over them too.

What am I living for?

And is it worth dying for?