While I was living in Guatemala, I developed a fascination for ruins. They provided a lovely, peaceful hideaway from the chaos, the poverty, and the unpredictability that I encountered on a regular basis.

As I entered these ruins, I could finally take a breath. These walls that remained had been standing for centuries, and they provided a barrier from all of the sadness, the unpredictability, the aggressiveness, the illness, and the danger that lurked outside.

When we went back to Guatemala six months ago, I revisited some of those ruins. My favorite ones were old churches and monasteries. As I walked through places that were once dedicated to prayer and spiritual reflection, I felt inspired to pray. During those silent moments, I was able to focus on positive things in my life and to express gratitude for blessings that I’d taken for granted.

These buildings have survived centuries of earthquakes, fires, and wars. And, as I’ve walked through them, I’ve been captivated by the beauty that remains. They are like human beings: they have survived one tragedy after another, and some parts of themselves will never be recovered. But despite the devastation, their inner strength survives. And what remains is an intricately beautiful and inspiring story of redemption.