by Kimmie Liette | Apr 17, 2014 | Writings
I’ve been thinking this morning about community and how important it is to surround ourselves with positively influencing people.
I pulled out these encouraging hand-written notes from all of my friends (who are more like family) in Guatemala.

These are the people who we lived with day-in and day-out for the past six months.
We shared a roof, meals, our workloads, our struggles, our victories, and so many memories together.
We encouraged one another every day.
We spoke truth into each other lives.
We saw each other through eyes of grace.
Because we all know, the real ‘us’ comes out when we spend every day with people for stretched amounts of time. There ain’t no hiding it.
I’m so thankful for for these friends.

Thankful for their love and for their desire to see me grow.
It’s beautiful to have relationships where you are investing into each others lives.
Are you surrounding yourself with people of positive influence?
by Kimmie Liette | Apr 11, 2014 | Writings |

The past six months that I lived in Guatemala felt like a lifetime.
(In a good way)
I’ve been blessed to have met women like Veronica.
She has a beautiful heart and a radiant smile that always left me laughing.
She began as my Spanish teacher and quickly became a dear friend.
Since being back in the States,
(I’d like to say back home, but I’m still confused where home truly is)
I’ve come to the awakening of the gaping hole in my chest.
It’s difficult to leave your heart in another country with people who became apart of your story.
When your lives collide and you realize that you are more alike than you could’ve ever imagined.
That despite cultural differences, and sometimes (a lot of times) language barriers, we are human.
We all possess the deep longing to be seen and to be loved.
I came back to Florida and knew that the wild world outside had changed me.
My eyes couldn’t see things the same, though at times, they tried.
I longed for the warm embrace of a beautiful Mayan friend that I’ve met on the street.
The woman named Thomasa that I’ve adopted as my abuelita (little grandma).
She sells mangoes, papaya, and watermelon every day at the age of eighty-seven.

It’s these kinds of people who leave a lasting impact on the heart.
The ones who are content with the little they have, and encourage you to share in their joy.
They are the ones who changed my eyes, and I’ll forever be grateful to them.