Editor’s note: In observance of National Hispanic Heritage Month (Sept. 15–Oct. 15), we are sharing this reflection from the ELCA Ministries of Diverse Cultures and Communities team. In his capacity as pastor of Sagrado Corazon Lutheran Church in Waukegan, Ill., ELCA Latino Ministries Director Hector Carrasquillo empowered Carlos Ferrera, who continues to inspire faithful leaders of tomorrow.
Carlos Ferrera was born and raised in Waukegan, Ill., where his parents settled after emigrating from Honduras in the 1990s. They worked night shifts to give Ferrera and his older brother a safer life, far from the violence they had known in their native country. Despite having no extended family nearby, they found a spiritual home at Sagrado Corazon Lutheran Church, a place that became Ferrera’s anchor.
“I grew up in the church,” he said. “Even before I knew what faith really meant, the church was just there.”
For Ferrera’s mother, the church became more than a sanctuary—it was a cultural hub. She found fellow Hondurans, even some from her hometown, and leaned on that community when she lost a newborn child. Ferrera’s father, one of 10 children, worked hard to bring over four of his younger siblings from Honduras. They moved into a small apartment across the street from Ferrera’s family, becoming stand-in parents for him and his brother while their own worked long hours.
“Even before I knew what faith really meant, the church was just there.”
One constant presence in Ferrera’s young life was Hector Carrasquillo, now ELCA director for Latino Ministries but then a pastor of Sagrado Corazon. “I was maybe 6 when I started noticing him,” Ferrera remembers. “He had this energy. You could feel it before he even became the lead pastor.”
At 16, Ferrera took a leap, leaving high school to play soccer professionally in Spain. But the COVID-19 pandemic hit just as he arrived, forcing him into lockdown with a stranger in a cramped apartment. Isolated and unprepared, he struggled. “I’d sacrificed everything for soccer,” he said, “and suddenly I was cut off from everything—my family, the game, my future.”
With help from an aunt who had recently moved to Spain, Ferrera found a new place to stay. But those months in close quarters were hard. He cried often. When Spain’s travel ban was lifted, he couldn’t get home fast enough.
“The place that welcomes me every time”
Back in Waukegan, he found more hardship. His family was evicted from their home—and, later, their storage unit, filled with precious memories. They moved into his uncle’s basement.
Ferrera returned to high school online. The screen time required reminded him of his loneliness in Spain, but he was determined to earn his diploma. “If I couldn’t help pay the bills, I could at least graduate,” he said.
The instability took a toll. “Some wounds never seem to heal,” he reflected. Ferrera now speaks candidly about the silent transmission of generational stress and how shame, fear and unspoken emotions can twist through families. “The most expensive therapist in town is alcohol,” he said. “But I don’t need a drink to share my fears with a stranger. I’m trying to learn from my parents’ lessons—even the ones they didn’t mean to teach.”
“This was my chance to give back.”
Needing guidance from a trusted source, Ferrera reached out to Carrasquillo. The pastor was looking for a youth leader, and Ferrera said yes.
“This was my chance to give back,” Ferrera said. “To become the kind of person kids can count on—the way my family and Pastor Hector were there for me.”
Today Ferrera leads his youth ministry with energy and joy. He’s focused on making faith real, fun and rooted in connection. “We don’t just sit in a room,” he said. “We get out. We explore. We went to Six Flags and rode every rollercoaster [and] kept the faith through every twist and drop. What a way to build community!”
Ferrera doesn’t know exactly what his future holds—for soccer, for school or for life—but he’s certain about one thing. “I know where I’m needed,” he said. “And I know I can always come home. Home looks different depending on who you are—but for me, church is the place that welcomes me every time.”
