Day 5 | Scripture, Silpancho & Sacred Tears
It’s day 5 and we were greeted with the comfort of French Toast for breakfast. Just the little taste of home we all needed as we geared up for another day of work, worship, and witnessing God’s goodness in unexpected places.
After breakfast, we gathered for our daily devotional, centering our hearts before picking up paintbrushes and ladders again. Today, we pushed hard to make real progress on the new home gym and the Plomo’s dorm room. At one point, we corralled every single team member into the Plomos’ room… arms up on ladders, standing on stacked bunk beds, high up on filing cabinets just to get the perfect angle (promise we were careful), brushes cutting in the ceiling corners, rollers sweeping the walls, trim brushes edging every baseboard. With only 45 minutes left, we were convinced we’d never finish. But God had other plans. In the final stretch, we somehow got every last bit of paint up, every corner trimmed, every speck cleaned. Truly a God story, a small miracle painted in light blue.
Before lunch, we all stepped into the gym to do something that will last long after the paint dries: we wrote Scripture on the walls that will soon sit behind the mirrors. Someday soon, when these boys look at themselves in the mirror, they’ll see more than their reflection… they’ll stand face-to-face with words of truth, hope, and blessing that remind them who they really are in Christ.
Lunch was another Bolivian favorite: Silpancho - white rice topped with breaded, fried beef, crispy potatoes, and a fried egg. We’ve grown to love these hearty local meals.
In the afternoon, we packed up for Sidewalk Sunday School for the final time, this time heading deeper into the mountains. We were in awe of the beauty that surrounded us: rolling hills, painted skies, and little clusters of homes tucked into the hills. There, among God’s stunning handiwork, we met His beloved children — kids with dirt-smudged cheeks and bright eyes, hungry for songs, stories, and laughter.
But the beauty of the mountains was met with the heartbreak of the home visits that followed. We sat in a tiny shack, no electricity, no running water, no kitchen… just a single mattress on the floor for a mother and her two sons. She welcomed us in with tears streaming down her face, grateful for prayers we offered, grateful that someone would see her, sit with her, and remind her she is not alone.
We brought her a Canasta, a simple basket filled with food, drinks, and gifts. But it was the smallest gift that cracked all of our hearts wide open… a little tub of butter. Her son’s eyes filled with tears as he clutched it tightly and with excitement said “ I get to put butter on my bread.” Such a simple thing, but to him, it was joy overflowing. It’s moments like this that flip our world upside down and remind us how much we have to be grateful for … and how much more we have to give.
One of our team members read Psalm 121 over that small room—“I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” Surrounded by those very mountains, it was a holy reminder that even in the hardest places, God’s presence is steady and sure.
After home visits, we headed into the city for dinner together. A sweet time of fellowship to process the heartbreak and beauty we’d witnessed. Over plates of local food, we shared stories, wiped tears, and reminded each other to keep lifting our eyes to the One who holds it all.
Back at the BLC, we circled up around a crackling wood fire. There were more tears, quiet prayers, and honest words about how heavy and holy this all feels. We sat in silence at the end… just listening to the night, the crackle of the fire, and the gentle whisper of God’s goodness that holds us all, even when our hearts feel raw.
Today was another reminder that sometimes our biggest call is simply to show up — to paint a wall, to write a verse, to pray over a mattress, to sit in the ashes with someone else’s pain. And in all of it, to keep lifting our eyes to the hills, knowing where our help truly comes from.
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With love from Bolivia!
2025 Storyhill Bolivia Team
