- Wait, what?
- Oh, that's neat dear.
- You're stupid
- You're crazy
- There is a mission field here in the US
- How are you gonna pay for this?
- That's Awesome!
- I wish I had the courage to do something like that.
The answer to the "why?" question is simple: God said, "Go."
I don't know why now. Only God knows and understands his timing. I thought I'd be working as a Case Manager at my work by now. Ok, well let me start from the beginning of this weird tale:
About 5 years ago, Emily and I were looking into summer a missions trip we could go on together. We googled it and came across AIM's website. While there, we read about this new trip they were just starting. It was modeled after the show "The Amazing Race." We both loved the idea and totally wanted to do it one day (we were 19, had to be 21). We didn't end up going on a trip with AIM but I bookshelved it into the back of my mind.
Fast forward to post-graduation: I searched for a job but ended up applying to the Journeyman program with IMB. I went through the whole process. The program got put on hold for a few months because of budgeting so I got a job at a gas station in town. When they started the program back up, they were just filling high importance jobs. I got chosen to go the interview conference. I chose the trip I felt most led to do, went home, and waited. I didn't get selected. I'm too "sarcastic and argumentative and its not conducive to teamwork." They told me to get a mentor and work on it a looonnngg time. My response? I have a mentor and she loves my attitude! (Shout-out to Cindy-Lou Who!) So, I set about to find a real job. It took about 8 months. I've now been at this job for 10 months.
After the start of this year, I started getting restless. I had serious wanderlust: I blamed the movie Eat Pray Love. Then I started becoming less and less enthused with my job and my life. I started looking into a summer missions trip that my little brother could go on with me since he's never been on one. I looked at Teen Mania (who I went to Panama with) and then I went to AIM. While I was looking around, I decided to look at the routes for this year's Race. I clicked on July 2 and fell in love. I remember thinking, "Please, God, let them have this route when it's my turn to go." My oh my how the Lord works.
I started looking into going to Seminary, then I heard a case manager position was going to be opening soon. And it seemed like that was what I was gonna do (several of my coworkers said they wanted me to be it, including the guy who's job I'd be taking over), though I still swayed a little. I applied, but still felt iffy. I prayed and prayed…and prayed. Then I started feeling like maybe the World Race was what I was supposed to do. "What, Lord? This year? No…" so I prayed some more and some more and some more. I interviewed for the case manager position, and two days later, I applied to the World Race. I kept praying for some Gideon-style sign from God. Still hadn't heard for the case mgr position. I interviewed with AIM. [more praying and whining] Got accepted to AIM. Still fought it. Wanted a smack in the face sign. Finally, it hit me. I gave you the sign (being accepted) so why are you fighting it?! So…I accepted.
Then I had to tell the fam and friends and deal with all the feedback. It's been a little hard. Instead of my fam giving me fundraising ideas, they are hurling negativity. They are supportive…but kinda sorta not really. One of my sisters once told me that guys weren't worth the trouble and to just be a lesbian: "I'll support you." Where is that support now? I want to know that no matter what crazy turn my life takes that my family is behind me, whether they agree or not. I'm not asking for you to understand, just support me (and I'm not talking financially). Just tell me that if this is what I'm supposed to do then you will support my "lifestyle choice." This makes me really appreciate and understand the "hate your mother and father" and "leave all" verses. Don't get me wrong, I have an amazing family, but right now, I feel like the black sheep.
