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From My Diary

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The Lord knows how to rescue the godly from trials. —2 Peter 2:9, ESV

Saturday The locals in Montevideo, Uruguay, have a hike known as Tres Cruces—Hill of Three Crosses. It is designed as a Via Dolorosa—the journey Jesus took on His way to Calvary. There are fourteen crosses along the trail, each depicting a section of the Crucifixion story. At the top, three huge crosses are dotted with relics and prayers.

Though I am still really ill, this was the week my beautiful family of roommates wanted to go. Of course, it was! Hauling myself up the mountain, I cursed God. Hiking is usually my favorite activity but not that day. That day I was dead. As we rose in elevation, I could barely breathe. I threw up once. My fingers turned white from lack of oxygen.

I wanted to go home. Then, there in front of me, the cross. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I turned so the others would not see. There I stood, complaining about the blandest problems known to man when I belonged to the Savior of the world. In my tired, feeble state of mind, I realized I had not been giving my all to God.

I saw my sins, the jealousy, anger, impatience, gluttony, lust, laziness—everything I had submitted to during the difficult week. How foolish.

To let hard days separate me from the love of my life, my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I prayed a prayer of sorrow and asked forgiveness as I let His love wash over me. He was in charge, not me. Today I rolled my ankle on the way down from Tres Cruces.

But that is not going to stop me. Even if this week is worse than the last, I will let God be in charge. Next week we are doing an eight-hour hike up to the La Laguna shelter. The goal is to raise money and awareness for the Venezuelan refugee crisis.

I am going to go. Despite the weakness I currently feel, I am praying that God will give me the strength to go on. I know He will. My friends, how easily we lose sight of what truly matters. Let us pray for one another and also for the needs of those around us.

While we struggle through a tough week, for them, their nightmares last much longer than a week.

Sophia Jaquez

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