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Showing posts from September, 2014

How do you say.......

When I started to teach first grade, I also started to pray for someone else to teach first grade.

 It wasn’t that I hated it, but I was very overwhelmed. The idea of being in charge of 21 kid’s educations was/is slightly terrifying to me. The Lord has been faithful to remind me that He was in control, and this change of plans wasn’t a surprise to Him, but at the same time, I kept praying for someone else to do it.

Then, about two weeks ago, my prayer was answered, but differently than I might have expected. Instead of a first grade teacher, God provided a Quechua teacher, who was willing to help in first grade. Originally, she had planned to teach Quechua, but because she came later in the year, that position was already filled. Instead, she agreed to help in first grade!!!

Having help to teach first grade has made a huge difference! It is so nice to have an extra pair of hands in the classroom, or even just another adult to be able to bounce ideas off of.

About a week ago, we were t…

When Brownies Fall Apart – In Christ Alone

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In Bolivia, I am incompetent in so many ways. But let’s be honest, no matter where I am there are lots of things I cannot do. In Bolivia, it’s just harder to hide these things. Anywhere from buying gas to make my stove work, to solving division problems Bolivian style, to butchering chicken, I am almost completely incompetent.

But, when it comes to brownies…. that is something I can do.  If you have known me for more than 3 months, I have probably made you brownies. They are one of my favorite foods, and making them for other people is a great excuse to eat them myself.

So when my church announced we were having a bake sale, I got excited. Not just because it meant there would be lots of sweets available, but because I felt like I had something to contribute! I made plans with some new friends to make brownies, and I was equally excited to be able to eat and sell them.

The brownies turned out deliciously, and I snuck a few from the pans as they were cooling. Then I started taking them…

All Things to All People

(Or at least a lot of things, to a lot of people.)


Growing up, I was very picky about what people called me. I never like to be called Dany, because to me that was a boy’s name. I remember very clearly telling my Grandma she was never allowed to call me that. Over the years my family and friends have come up with nicknames, only a couple have been used consistently.
In Bolivia, or really all of Latin America, Danyelle is pronounced Daniel, and is a boys name. I learned quickly that if I wanted anyone to understand my name, I would need to change it. Normally I go by Daniela, but this year it seems like I answer to just about anything. ;) Here are a few of the most common name I have here:
Danyelle: obviously this one speaks for itself. Only other missionaries call me this though. Dan-yell-e: Mostly government officials trying to pronounce my name on paperwork Daniela: The vast majority of people Dani: I’ve finally caved and am allowing this nickname. But to be fair to all who tried before,…