Sonrisas y Sol

To the future SMs at Familia Feliz: Up until now I’ve lived in the context of my experience and here and now. But as people are starting to reach out and ask about the Familia Feliz SM experience, I want to give a very targeted, however disorganized, public service announcement. Why SM? The Bible is cram-jammed full of a call to get uncomfortable, to represent Jesus, to go to the whole wide world. That may look like being a dean in the States or a nurse in Africa or a teacher in the islands or a mom in South America. To SM is to respond to God in a big, obvious way. It comes with more personal growth than you can ever imagine, more lives touched than you could hope for, and the best experience with Jesus you could pray for. It will open your eyes, melt your heart, culture your mind, and challenge your soul. To you new SMs going out, you’re not bringing Jesus to your locations; He’s already here. Instead, you’re finding Him for yourself and demonstrating that picture of Him to the peop

“No se vaya!” (“Don’t go!”) Every girl — from the ones I’ve known the longest to the ones who just arrived — will remember at random times that I’m leaving. That I have four weeks left. And they give long hugs and pitiful pleas for me to stay. “Why do you have to leave?” “Will you come back?” “What are you going to do for the rest of your life?” Soledad walks into my room as Maribel talks with me in my hammock. Maribel lays down in my lap for me to play with her hair and Sole pages through my journal, asking about it. “¿Cuando se vaya?” (“When do you leave?”) “Seis de Mayo” (“May 6”). A long silence follows. Then Sole counts, “Un, dos, tres, cuarto, cinco semanas falta.” (“Five weeks left.”) “Falta solo un poquitito,” Marianely comes up to where I’m cooking and says in her too-soft-to-normally-hear voice. “Till when?” I ask. “Till you leave.” Shoot. I wasn’t convinced this chica  actually felt anything for me. But here she is thinking about me leaving. I flip an omelette and look up at