It has been 12 weeks since we walked off the plane into the arms of our family, and now as I sit to write this final entry my eyes fill with tears. I do not even know the words to write. It was hard to be responsible for between 174 and 268 missionaries. We grew to love them, we worried about, prayed and fasted for them. We laughed, cried, taught, listened, and grew with them. Serving a mission is not easy. It does not matter if you are 18 or 60, it stretches your abilities and pulls at your heartstrings. One of the great things I grew to depend on was the help of the Lord.Whether standing to speak in front of over 1,000 people in a language I was just barely learning, or answering the phone in the middle of the night from a sick missionary I was guided, carried, and given the abilities to do things above my natural ability. I know that God lives and loves us. He is never far away.
We have another private blog full of photos of missionaries so I would like to end this more public blog with photos of a country and a people that will forever have part of my heart.
The Cancha! This was our favorite place to shop and people watch in Cochabamba. You could buy ANYTHING there from llama fetuses for the ritual sacrifices to washing machines, beautiful decorated cakes, and of course aguayos.
Tupiza and Quiriza
The land and the people we love...
The Cochabamba Bolivia Mission will forever be a huge part of our hearts.