Proof The Bible Is True

From her perch atop El Panecillo hill, the 148-foot winged Virgin kept watch over the city of Quito. I lingered in her shadow long after my classmates had snapped their photos and left. When the coast was clear, I stuck a crumpled note into a crack at the base of the statue.

I’d scribbled five simple words across it, my heart’s deepest desire: Please send me an angel.

It was week two of my college study abroad semester in Quito, Ecuador, 6,000 miles from my home in Norway, and I was desperately homesick. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for travel. In fact, at 21, I still really didn’t know what I was cut out for.

My parents were very logical, by-the-book people. They wanted me to pursue a practical career in economics or finance. While I studied numbers, I dreamed of becoming an artist, writing and painting, but I couldn’t tell my parents. I didn’t want to disappoint them.

Grandmother thought a semester in Quito might be just the thing—a complete change of scenery, a whole new culture, an opportunity to assert my independence. “Follow your heart,” she always said. “God has so much in store for you.”

Read More  The 3 Angels of Quito.