Bolivia

The trip to Bolivia is one of those experiences that feels hard to capture all at once. It wasn’t just one moment, but a collection of them, spread across long, hot days in a place that felt both simple and unfamiliar.

It was my first mission trip, and before we even started going door to door, I remember feeling a quiet sense of fear. Not the kind that stops you, but the kind that sits in the background. I wasn’t afraid of the people themselves, but of how we might be perceived. I didn’t want to come across as pushy or misunderstood. There’s always that thought in the back of your mind, that someone might look at you and think you’re out of place, or doing something unnecessary.

One of the days, we stopped at a home where an older woman came out to meet us. She was gentle, and almost immediately, she shared that she had been dealing with pain in her head for years. There wasn’t much we could do in a practical sense, but we gathered together to pray with her.

As we stood there, something shifted. It wasn’t dramatic, just gradual. People gathered around. Kids, neighbors, and even animals began to form a loose circle around us. There were dogs, chickens, and small birds moving in and out, like it was the most natural thing in the world. No one seemed rushed. No one seemed skeptical. It felt simple, and honest.

Another moment that stayed with me happened while I was talking with someone outside. Out of nowhere, a small chick, maybe only a few inches tall, climbed up my backpack with ease and settled into my lap. The chick was small, a little thin, and not in perfect shape. But it trusted enough to climb up and stay there. I remember sitting there, half-laughing, because the whole situation felt ridiculous and somehow completely natural at the same time.

But in that moment, I also found myself asking a simple question: why am I afraid? There I was, overthinking how I might be perceived, while this small animal, far more vulnerable than me, acted without hesitation. It didn’t overanalyze or second-guess. It just moved, trusted, and stayed.

The environment around us reflected that same simplicity. The land was flat, hot, and humid, with lime trees scattered throughout. People would pick them and hand them to us without much thought. There were animals everywhere, not separated from life but fully part of it.