Guatemala: Day 6 Reflections

Written by CTS Graduate Jennifer Fortosis

“Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous deeds among all peoples.”

Psalm 96:3

I was deeply thankful when I found out we would be heading out of the city for a few days. The early part of our trip had felt heavy. Stories of corruption, abuse, and injustice were everywhere. It weighed on my spirit. Getting to this place of rest was not easy. We took a bus through the mountains, winding over hills and sharp turns. I felt moments of guilt for how much I was looking forward to the break.

But in my devotions this morning, I was reminded that Jesus also stepped away. He retreated to the lake, to the mountains, to be with the Father and to rest. That reminder gave me peace. As I processed everything we have witnessed so far, I found myself meditating on Psalm 96:3: “Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous deeds among all peoples.”

And I began asking—what is the purpose of being so far from home? So far from the people I love? Why here?

Through God’s Word, I felt a quiet but powerful answer: We are here to declare His glory.

We took a microbus to San Pablo, and beyond that, a truck along rocky roads to reach a small mountain village. This sweet little town does not even have its own priest. In their single Catholic church, the community gathers faithfully. As we spoke with them, they shared the pride they take in their unity. When a woman gives birth, neighbors take turns living with her for a week at a time, caring for her, cooking for her, meeting every need. It is not just the family’s responsibility; it is the community’s. Everything here is communal.

I found myself longing for that kind of unity, for that kind of love. We need each other more than we realize. And it is something we, especially in the West, have forgotten—to take pride in our unity, in our shared strength.

One of the unexpected blessings of being pulled out of my own culture is this: I can see our idols more clearly. When we asked children in the city about their dreams, they spoke of leaving, of becoming someone important, successful, independent. But here in this quiet mountain town, the children’s dreams were strikingly different. None of them wanted to leave. None of them dreamed of becoming something great for themselves. Their dreams were rooted in their home and in their people: to sell their coffee beans for a fair price, to build a church without cracks, to repair the roads so they are safer and more accessible.

It was beautiful. And it was humbling. I come from a culture so centered on the individual, on achievement, ambition, and self-actualization. But here, in this village, I saw a strength that comes from togetherness, from dreaming collectively, from loving your community like family.

This is what the church is meant to look like.