When God Goes Before Us: A Week of Witness in Guatemala

Our team of sixteen missionaries—ages thirteen to sixty‑five, including five parent‑child combos —gathered long before sunrise on the first day of our trip. We came from Grace Church and several other local congregations, united by a shared desire to serve and to see God’s work among the most vulnerable in Guatemala. As we strapped more than twenty‑five suitcases onto the roof of the van, many filled with donations from our church family, we had no idea how deeply the week ahead would shape us.

After a smooth day of travel and a restful night in a comfortable hotel, Bethel Ministries welcomed us with matching T‑shirts and warm smiles. Each morning began with a devotional led by a Bethel staff member, grounding us in Scripture before the day’s work. Each evening, our Grace team closed the day with our own devotional, sharing where we had seen Jesus. That rhythm—Scripture, service, reflection—became the heartbeat of the week.

Wheelchairs, Worship, and the Ministry of Presence

Over the first two days, our team helped distribute almost 100 wheelchairs in two different towns. Every single chair represented a story—of suffering, endurance, hope, and dignity restored. Here are a few of them:

A man in his forties—my age—arrived with a leg amputation, a port for ongoing treatments, and a schedule of regular dialysis. His smile was radiant. He wore a blue Fox Racing hat, the same brand my family loves in our dirt‑bike world. It felt like a small wink from God: You belong here.

A woman wearing gold hoop earrings—just like the ones teenage girls wear in the U.S.—lit up when I complimented them in broken Spanish. Without hesitation, she removed them and pressed them into my hands. I tried to refuse. She insisted. “This is not from me,” she said. “It is from the Lord.” Her generosity, born from scarcity, challenged me more deeply than any sermon.

A young man with a pristine Yankees hat arrived in a wheelchair so worn it looked held together by hope alone. When it came time to transfer him into his new chair, his father—much smaller in stature—lifted him with practiced strength and tender familiarity. He had been carrying his son for years. Watching him was like witnessing a living parable of the Father who carries us.

And throughout the week we met many other parents who had carried their child from birth or for many years—quiet, daily acts of sacrificial love that preached the gospel without a single word for whom these wheelchairs were nothing short of a Godsend.

But the moment that marked our team most deeply came on the second day. A teenage girl named Gami was being fitted for her chair when one of our team members, Alaina, simply sat beside her. No words. Just presence. Gami’s face erupted into a smile so bright that half our team noticed from across the room. She wrapped her arm around Alaina, and for a moment, two teenage girls—whose lives and opportunities could not be more different—were simply sisters in Christ. It was a reminder that sometimes the most Christlike thing we can offer is not service, but presence.

Home Visits and the Theology of Enough

Midweek, our team split in two. Half continued the house‑building projects, while the rest of us visited families in their homes under the pastoral leadership of a Bethel staff member whose gentleness shaped every conversation.

At the first home, a grandmother, her daughter, and their children welcomed us. Their stories of loss and unworthiness poured out freely. Yet the grandmother thanked God for the health she still had and the chance to be with her family. Her daughter confessed she had stopped attending church because she felt she needed to “get her life together” before returning to God. Ben from Bethel gently shared the gospel: God meets us where we are—not because of our performance, but because of His love.

Each home carried its own heartbreak.

A husband injured and unable to work, waiting for a third surgery with no timeline.

A mother abandoned with three children, left to rebuild a life alone.

A widow whose husband was killed by a taxi, now raising three children who still write Father’s Day cards and ask when they can give them to him.

One story in particular stayed with me. A three‑year‑old girl, who was only eighteen months old when her father died, still asks her mother, “Where is Daddy?” Her nine‑year‑old brother, who once dreamed of becoming a chef like his father, now says he cannot pursue that dream because the memories are too painful. And yet their mother spoke of God’s provision—through her parents, her church, and the kindness of strangers. “Even though I don’t have much,” she said, “it is enough. God takes care of us.”

Her words echoed Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 6: “Look at the birds of the air… Are you not of more value than they?” Faith, I realized, is not built in comfort. It is refined in trust.

Building Homes and Building Hope

While some of us visited homes, the rest of the team worked on two house builds under the leadership of Bethel’s two master builders—true tektons in every sense of the word. Their skill, patience, and joy set the tone for the entire worksite.

The second build, completed on our final full day, may have been a record—thanks to a crew of eleven, three fearless “skywalkers” on the roof, and weather that was exactly as we prayed for: shady in the morning, breezy and sunny in the afternoon.

The hardest part was transporting materials through what felt like a bamboo jungle. But God provided local neighbors who joyfully helped haul sheets of metal, lumber, and tools. The community didn’t just watch—they participated.

The home was for a mother of five young children who had been living with neighbors because she had no house of her own. When the final screws were tightened, the stove installed, and the interior decorated, we dedicated the home to God and to this family. The mayor, Sofia, along with community leaders and residents, joined us. Their partnership throughout the week was a testimony to the unity that emerges when people work together for the sake of love.

At the first build earlier in the week, a 74‑year‑old grandmother raising three granddaughters received her new home with tears of joy. She had never lived in a house protected from the weather. What seemed small to us was life‑changing to her. “All the glory to God,” she said. Her faith reminded us that gratitude grows not from abundance, but from recognizing God’s provision in every season.

The children around the build site became our companions—playing frisbee, soccer, and basketball, asking our names, teaching us Spanish, and learning English words in return. Their joy, despite having so little, was a sermon in itself.

Seeing the Whole Story

On our final day, we traveled to Bethel Ministries’ headquarters in Chimaltenango. There we saw the behind‑the‑scenes work that makes everything possible: social workers, wheelchair technicians, logistics teams, and the warehouse where wheelchairs are reconditioned and food bags assembled.

We also visited Bethel’s school for children with disabilities—students who would otherwise have no access to education. One young man, once abandoned and isolated, now leads devotions and shares the gospel with others. Bethel helped him receive a wheelchair, access his home, attend school, and encounter Christ. His story is a living testimony of restoration.

Seeing the full process—from warehouse to workshop to wheelchair to home—gave us a deeper appreciation for the ministry’s faithfulness. None of this happens without prayer, resources, and the generosity of people back home. Even those who never set foot in Guatemala are part of what God is doing there.

The God Who Goes Before Us

As we reflected on the week, one truth became unmistakable: God had gone before us in every moment.

In the wheelchair fittings.

In the home visits.

In the house builds.

In the smiles of children and the tears of mothers.

In the generosity of strangers and the unity of our team.

We came to serve, but we left having been served—by the faith of those who have little, the joy of those who suffer much, and the God who meets His people in every circumstance.

Gracia a Dios. Dios es grande. Toda la gloria es para Él. Thanks to God. God is great. All the glory is His.

Visit Guatemala Mission Trip | February 2026 - Stories & Updates - Grace Community Church for the entire blog.