We were asked to write a blog about how we were called to this mission trip. Here is my story…
The summer after I graduated college (which was in 2006) my best friend and I really wanted to travel together. We had wanted to go to Ireland and England, so we planned a trip and went. I loved traveling and seeing all the tourist things, but during that short trip of 2 weeks I developed a strong desire to go to Africa and serve. It was a desire that came from God, because it was out of nowhere. After that I decided the next place I was going was Africa. I knew nothing about the different countries, and I didn’t care where I went. I just wanted to go.
I moved to Cincinnati in the fall and was working at a coffee shop and teaching art lessons. The art lessons ended in May, and frankly I was getting a little bored with the coffee shop thing. That was the perfect time to go on a missions trip. I started looking into opportunities, and was pursing a couple different ones. I ended up applying to go to Rwanda from the end of May to the beginning of August in 2007. While I was there I learned and grew so much. I loved the people, the culture, and the simplicity. I was wearing the same clothes, bathing out of a bucket or if we had water pressure in a freezing cold shower. I was killing giant cockroaches in my house, and named the gecko that was always in my bathroom Fabio, was eating weird food, getting completely covered in red dust dirt, and loving it. Ok, some things I loved more than others but I wouldn’t change anything. I was helping a missionary family there with the work they did with the street kids in Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. I spent a lot of time planning day camps for the kids with two other girls that were there with me and were complete strangers at the beginning and great friends at the end. I spent some time playing with kids at a shelter for ex prostitutes and other people with nowhere to go. I spent 3 days at a refugee camp. I went to genocide memorials. I saw a country that was not that long ago war torn and now changed into a country striving to be undivided and forgiving. I have never experienced reconciliation, thankfulness, and joy the way I did that summer. I would constantly hear people yelling muzungu my way, which means white person, but I got used to it.
I left with such a new view of what it is to be thankful, simple, and what community really is. If one child would come across a bottle of water or a small piece of bread they would share. I once gave a woman the equivalent of a dollar (which is actually way more than people usually give beggars) and saw her dancing for pure joy. I will probably never see that in America. When I came home I had a new view of the world, and knew that some day I was meant to go away again but for longer.
I originally wanted to go one place, probably in Central or South America so I could really learn Spanish, but the World Race just kept coming up. I didn’t think I wanted to do it at first because I wanted to become completely familiar with one culture, but it wouldn’t leave my brain. I decided to apply, and before I knew it I was accepted and feeling peace about going on this trip. I really feel like God wants me to serve His children in a way that I wouldn’t expect. the timing is perfect, and the things God is teaching me right now are huge in preparation for this trip.
