Dear Mom and Dad –

 

I’m not a blogger. I struggle to actually sit and write out my thoughts, ideas, and babblings on paper.

Maybe I’m just the more ‘face to face type’. Well, I know that I am more that type.

 But I realize that you are not here in Tanzania with me to sit, drink some African coffee and talk and reflect back on the last four months.

I could tell you about the time when my team and I rafted the Nile River.

I could tell you about hospital visits in Uganda praying over precious souls that have been infected by AIDS.

I could share with you the crazy experiences and stories of living in the bush of Kenya with the Maassi tribe; carrying water from a creek, 3 miles away. Waking up at 3am to elephants running past our tents.

I would love to share with you all these stories – and thousands more.

But these stories are not just mine.

They are the stories that involve some of the most incredible people I’ve ever been around. They are the stories that have a voice because of those who have given up the comfortable in exchange for the uncomfortable – the known for the unknown – the safe for the potentially unsafe. 

These people are 20 somethings. College students. They are my generation.

They are YOUR sons and daughters.

They are the stories of those that I have had the incredible honor of leading and loving the last four months.

Dear Mom and Dad, this blog is for you.

 

Thank you for blessing Africa with your son or daughter.

Thank you for your prayers and tears over us.

Thank you for the investment you’ve made in her life.

Thank you for never giving up on him.

Thank you for releasing and letting go.

Thank you for supporting and loving endlessly.

You have been the ones waiting four weeks to hear an update, wondering when we’ve left one country for the next- the ones who get that call saying that your 20 year old baby is in the hospital with malaria – or that the ATM card doesn’t work and I need money wired to Kenya – and the ones that celebrate birthdays, weddings, and graduations, and births apart.

 

Out here on the field we can all be admired when we post pictures of us holding little orphan children and when we’re knee deep in dirt building a hut.

But there’s something to be said about how we, as students, got to this crazy place.

I read a quote a year or so ago that sums up what I want to say –

“The church in America needs parents who are willing to release their children to the mission field.  We need parents who love God more than their children.  If we recognize the importance of evangelism, we will encourage future generations to give their lives for God and enter the heat of the battlefield even in the face of great danger.”

No matter what your relationship with your son or daughter – you have had an impact in their life – and not only in theirs.

But mine.

And Africa’s.

Although I have been their leader, I have learned beyond what I could explain, from their lives. They have been daily reflections of Jesus. Their willingness to learn and grow has challenged me. Their joy and laughter has been contagious. 

Their lives have brought life to most dead and darkest of places.

So from the bottom of my heart I want to tell you. 

Thank you! 

Every one of these nine students that I have led are incredible. They are fantastic! They are ROCKSTARS.And I am humbled and honored to have been apart of their lives; speaking into who they are – and are becoming as Sons and Daughters of the Kingdom!

 

Devon, Katie, Erika, LaDawna, Rachel, Jordon, Megan, Taleh, and Allie–

I love each of you like crazy and am so proud of who you are!

 Thank you for your patience, love, and grace for me as your leader.

I haven’t always had it together – you’ve sure have seen me at my weakest – and maybe a few times at my better. But through it all you’ve laughed with me, prayed over me, and given grace and love. You are the best!

 

Much love from your team leader and biggest cheerleader,

Elizabeth