It was only our second full day in Santa Elena. We had met a nice family on Sunday as we canvassed the area asking them to attend the gospel meeting that the local congregation was putting on. When we asked them if they’d be interested in having a Bible study, they said yes, and asked us to come back on Monday. So, Monday morning at 10am, we stopped by to see Matilda and her daughter Jennifer.

Robert led a study with them for about an hour that morning, at the end of which they agreed to another study the next day (and would subsequently study with us each day). They were a precious, precious family. You could tell they were interested in what the Bible said, even though they’d never even heard that Jesus built a church. And we were loving getting to talk to them. They were so friendly and kind and open, and though we didn’t speak the same language, we had so much in common. Immediately, I loved these people, and was so thankful God had placed them in my life.

Toward the end of the study, Matilda (the mom) said something to Carlos, our translator, that completely took me by surprise, and also took me aback. She asked him to ask us if we were like this back home. Robert and I just kind of looked at each other, and then she continued. She wanted to know if we were this loving and kind back home, because she was under the impression that most Americans weren’t very friendly, especially to those who were different from them. She meant it as a compliment, and it was so nice of her to say. But the reason I’m telling you this isn’t because I’m patting myself on the back; it’s because it hit me right between the eyes that really, truthfully, I’m not.

Don’t get me wrong, I truly try to be loving to those around me. Each day, I try to imitate Christ. But in El Salvador? In El Salvador I went out of my way to stop by people’s homes and share with them the only message that can save their souls. In El Salvador, I bluntly told those that I’d never met that I loved them and cared where their soul would be in eternity. In El Salvador, I didn’t complain about the heat and having to walk around all day long taking the gospel message to these people who were lost in sin.

But, to answer Matilda truthfully, America Emily isn’t always that way. She doesn’t go out of her way to share the only message that can save those around her. She doesn’t bluntly tell strangers that she loves them and cares for their soul. She does complain, though, about a lot of things–even when she’s living in the lap of luxury.

I’m ashamed that I was more loving and more caring in El Salvador toward people I may never see again this side of heaven than I am toward those whom I see every single day. I’m ashamed that I let my light shine brighter there in one week than I have in the two years I’ve lived in Pulaski. I’m ashamed that I’ve ever complained about anything in my entire life…when these people have so little and are still some of the happiest you’ll ever find.

I’m so thankful I went to El Salvador. It’s true that these trips change you, and I pray that I won’t ever forget the question Matilda asked me. More than that, though, I pray that I will honestly be able to answer her next time—that yes, I am this way all the time. I am always telling others about Jesus. I am always loving and kind and sincere. That is my prayer. That is my aim. That is who I am called to be.

Thank you, Matilda, for showing me exactly what I needed to see.