But that morning, after shouting at his teenage son for leaving a wet towel on the floor— again —something broke in Mateo that was not his anger. It was his pride. He picked up the book.
But the words from Transformados En Su Imagen whispered in his mind: “La transformación comienza donde termina tu fuerza.” (Transformation begins where your strength ends.) But that morning, after shouting at his teenage
Daniel looked up, startled. For a long second, neither moved. Then the boy’s shoulders sagged—not in defeat, but in relief. And they talked. Not about grades, but about fear. About pressure. About the weight of being a teenager who felt invisible. But the words from Transformados En Su Imagen
Mateo closed his mouth. He breathed. Then he said, quietly, “That’s tough, son. I’ve had days like that. Want to talk about it?” And they talked
Weeks became months. The book’s principles worked into his life like rain into cracked soil. Berg’s teaching on the “heart battlefield” (every thought taken captive to obey Christ) gave Mateo a new weapon: not gritted teeth, but whispered prayer. When the urge to control or explode arose, he learned to pause and say, “Señor, no puedo. Pero Tú puedes.” (Lord, I cannot. But You can.)