by Kat Silverglate ©2025

Maybe you’ve seen one of those videos of a baby with total hearing loss experiencing sound for the first time with the aid of a device or surgery? Some aspect of your innermost being becomes jelly-like while watching the too-awesome-to-comprehend-feeling overwhelm the little one as the unspeakably beautiful thing they’ve never experienced and didn’t even know existed appears suddenly on the radar of their one ridiculous life. Or the video of the born-without-sight baby getting those post surgical bandages removed? Their face alight with awe as they see for the first time the parent they’ve only known by sound, touch, taste and smell; finally a visible representation of one made in God’s image. Even the stoniest of hearts must see that and find itself defenseless against the pang of tender flesh pushing against the armor built up through God-knows-what kind of heart-hardening pain? Or the toddler seeing the ocean for the first time screaming with delight babbly-sounds that aren’t really words but somehow give the best description you’ve ever heard of the inexpressible awesomeness of the sea?

This is about as close as one can get to describing Gladys Marti Cabrera when she gets to travel. So much so that the friends who have witnessed her giddy-un-doneness when she plans a trip, steps on a plane, or shares stories of her adventures, can imitate her kiss-the-ground reaction to the privilege of seeing whatever lies on the other side of just about any trip. Like a pregnant mother waiting for the first bodily sign that “this journey is happening,” her bag is packed and she’s ready to go.

“One of the first times I can remember coming undone, and I mean completely undone, during one of our trips was our visit to La Jolla California. When we got to the beach and saw the caves with the seals and the water crashing on the side of the mountain, I fell to my knees on the lush grass and thanked God for His amazing creation. The beauty was overwhelming. For a moment I started to feel self-conscious; concerned about what people might think. But the gratitude coming out of me wasn’t a choice; it was a reaction. The awe I felt overwhelmed me and gushed out. I couldn’t control it.”

While space limitations would normally militate against a semi-exhaustive list of the places she’s been or will go by the time this mobile mission month ends, it’s difficult to adequately communicate the deeper context for this story without an idea of the breadth of her travels... so here we go with an alphabetical list of some of the US states, foreign countries and regions she’s visited. Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Australia, Austria, Bahamas, Bosnia Herzegovina, California, Canada, Chile, Columbia, Costa Rica, Croatia, England, Ecuador, France, Galapagos, Georgia, Germany, Greece, Guatemala, Hawaii, Iceland, Illinois, Indiana, Israel, Italy, Jamaica, Japan, Jordan, Kentucky, Lichtenstein, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Mexico, Mississippi, Montana, Montenegro, Nevada, New York, New Zealand, North Carolina, Oregon, Panama, Patagonia, Pennsylvania, Peru, Portugal, Puerto Rico, Santa Domingo, Slovenia, South Carolina, South Dakota, St. Lucia, St. Martin, St. Thomas, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, and let’s not forget Wyoming.

No, she’s not a flight attendant. No, she doesn’t work in the travel industry. No, her family is not wealthy, or even well-to-do. Indeed, she was “poor-ish” growing up.

“I don’t know what the right word is. I wasn’t poor the way people use that word. Poor-ish is maybe a better word? My Cuban father left school in second grade to help care for his family after his dad died. He was one of the hardest working men I’ve ever met. When he came to this country, he did whatever jobs he could to support us. Eventually he learned to repair boats and started a very successful boat repair shop. People brought boats from as far away as Europe because he was so good at what he did. We had enough, for sure. But much of what we had went to others in need. My dad was love in action. If he saw a need, he met it. He didn’t talk about it. He just did it. Even when he didn’t really have it to give, he gave. Even though he became a voracious reader later in life, he still didn’t use his words much. I was the apple of his eye. He showed me that through action.”

Gladys remembers cleaning the sidewalk outside her home in Allapattah, a task her father asked her to do. She was out there doing an adequate job when her father-of-few-words came to inspect. He made an exaggerated pushing motion with his body and grunted then smiled. The message was clear, “put yourself into your work Gladys Maria.” He gave his whole self to all he did and he wanted her to understand the difference between getting it done and giving a piece of her heart to something. She remembers seeing, and feeling, the difference when she was done. Her dad pretty much drove the “how” she would give herself to the work of her hands. But it was her mother’s family that would inspire “what” she did vocationally for more than three decades of her adult life.

Her Cuban mother came from an extended family of dentists and doctors who fought to continue practicing in the US after leaving Cuba. Gladys’ childhood home was the house where immigrants came when they couldn’t afford medical attention. Her grandfather eventually became the chief radiologist at the immigration center for refugees in Miami.

“My house was filled with medical books. I looked at them all the time. I remember this giant cabinet where my family kept supplies to help people. It was fascinating to me. I knew from a young age that I wanted to be a nurse.”

But somewhere between the dream of becoming a nurse, the hard work to get through nursing school and the early years of practice, she developed a debilitating self-worth problem. Whether it took hold of her during a journey with cervical cancer or whether the hard knock of a failed relationship sent her to a dark place, or whether the things we inevitably experience in childhood morphed into the battlefield of the mind that few can explain but many experience, she was struggling.

“It was the darkest time of my life. My thoughts were so dark during my cancer journey, like somehow I deserved what I had. It didn’t matter how good I was at my job or how happy people were with my performance, I felt this deep sense of worthlessness. They deserved my best but I didn’t deserve anything. I was lower than low.”

She’d grown up going to Catholic school attending church during the school day. Her parents lived their faith. She knew where to go in her darkest time. She found refuge in a community church she’d attended years earlier. Started to grow in her understanding of worth; where it comes from and why, as Christians, we understand we can’t earn it. It’s a gift given out of God’s abundant love, not out of our great performance or goodness. She met Armando there, also in the medical field, and they married. The worth issue faded some, but continued to linger in the background like an app that keeps running and draining your battery.

God sent her mentors who loved her the way her dad did, through action.

“God sent me a boss who loved, guided, and taught me like my dad did, by example. She’d come on our ward to see if we’d emptied the garbage yet. ‘Whether you take care of that or choose to let it overflow reflects your heart toward your patients.’ She’d see if the linen tray was empty. ‘How you fill that reflects your heart toward your patients.’ She’d see if our paperwork was done. ‘How you do the smallest thing reflects your heart toward your patients.’ I wanted to do everything with excellence because my patients deserved it.”

When Gladys would start working with a set of doctors, she’d learn their preferences and go out of her way to prepare things to suit their needs. When she worked with a difficult family, she’d find out what each family member wanted and then find a way to invite them to help her meet the loved one’s need. They became a team on the same side because the patient was worth it. When she finally became the head of her department, excellence was her byline: “Every small thing we do reflects how we feel about our patients -- the garbage, paperwork, linens, all of it. We serve a higher boss. We serve God when we serve others well.”

Gladys became the Nurse of the Year. She won the Residents Award, given to the medical professional who made life the easiest for the team (first NICU nurse in history of the award). And while recognition took the edge off her struggle, it didn’t drown out the frequent low hum of unworthiness. In hindsight now, it seems God was using a different part of her life -- love of travel -- to connect the dots of His worth-truth to her lived experience. As she ventured further from home, what she read in the Scriptures became more and more real.

“I vividly remember going to those places in the US with very dark zones where the night sky looks like God sprinkled diamonds like glitter in the sky. Mind blowing.” In Philippians 2:15, God reminds us that in Christ we are made to shine like stars in a dark world.

“When I went to Israel and stood in the Garden of Gethsemane, I could hardly breathe. The fact that our Lord cried there took my breath away.” She’d cried a river over worth. Now she was standing where the Lord cried out for strength to remove a burden we can’t.

“We sat on the edge of the Grand Canyon with a group who watched the sun drop below the horizon. The colors were unbelievable, the sun huge. As it inched its way down it looked like a film clip. When the last sliver of light hid behind the land, the whole group let out a collective sound – whohhhhhhh.” Romans 1:20 reminds us that God’s invisible attributes, namely His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived since the creation of the world in the things He made.

“My favorite road trip of all time was a drive along the coast from Seattle stopping to see tide changes along the way. When the Lord calls the ocean out, it goes in such a rush leaving beautiful starfish and logs.” In Job 38, God asks, “Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb... I said, ‘This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt’.” Gladys was delighting in watching God move just as He said He would through the daily tides.  

“My favorite all time memory of a travel surprise came in New Zealand. We didn’t know how to do Auckland.  We had different interests and skill levels. By chance we met Ashique, an Uber driver, who became our guide for two days. He was a gift from God, seeming to understand what each person needed.” The Psalmist sums up the humbling nature of God’s personal pursuit in Ps 8:4:   “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them? You have made them a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor… how majestic is your name in all the earth.”

In his book God Walk, Mark Buchanan talks about the difference between a map and a guide. For years he took self guided tours when he traveled because he was cheap. The problem was, maps don’t tell you where to go, they simply tell you where you are standing and what is around you. When a travel mate hired a guide on one of his trips, the light bulb went on.

And so it is with Holy Spirit who guides us into all truth. Who connects the dots of what we read in the Word to our lived experience. And so it was with Gladys who traveled with God and found Him connecting the dots of worth as an unearned gift. And while Gladys’ life of excellence as a reflection of her heart for God brings us to Colossians 3:23 -- “work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people” --  her current travel bag would probably contain a different verse. One that reminds her of the Lord‘s relentless personal pursuit no matter where her travels take her -- “Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the LORD forever.” Psalm 23:6  After all, it was that meet-you-around-every-corner nature of His movements that overwhelmed her to the point where unworthiness was eclipsed by blinding love. Not a dramatic instant healing for sure; more a warm slow embrace.

Now retired, she continues to do everything with excellence, but not because she feels a need to retain her worth, but because she knows she’s the apple of her Father’s eye. He’s shown her in both Word and action. And when people encourage her to come out of retirement, she smiles and tells them with a confident wink,

“I loved nursing. But now I’m a free agent for God. When he calls, I go. My bags are packed and I’m ready.”

Our February Mission:

In your Mission Pack, you have a tiny suitcase with a luggage tag and handle. Expand the suit case, attach the handle, write your name on the luggage tag and connect it with the twine. Put the travel bag where you can easily see it all month long. Consider reading God’s word each morning in February and then praying before you set out for your day, as if you are going on a trip --

“Lord, guide me. Open the eyes of my heart. Connect the dots of your Word to my lived experience. I’m packed and ready to go where you send me. Whatever I do, I’ll do it with excellence as if I am serving You.”

At the end of the day, meditate on moments where you met the Lord in your travels. Maybe slip a little note in that little travel bag. Unpack at the end of the month.

Amen? Amen!