When I applied for the World Race, Egypt was one of the countries on our route, but a couple months before we left, we were told Egypt was no longer an option. We didn’t have a local contact in the country, and it was considered too dangerous by the risk management department at AIM. As you might imagine, the announcement was disappointing for a lot of people.
To be honest, I don’t really remember my reaction, but I think it looked something like a distracted shrug while I puzzled over how many pairs of socks I needed to pack. Sure, I would’ve loved to go to Egypt, but it was out of my hands.
That was the last I thought of it, until our first couple months overseas when I had a teammate who repeatedly insisted, under no uncertain terms, we would be going to Egypt. She was praying about it. God was going to do it.
It seemed a little farfetched to me, so I’m sure I responded with a lot of nodding and pleasant, non-committal smiling. I certainly didn’t lose any sleep thinking about it.
In November, while I was busy building a greenhouse and playing with snails in Northern Cyprus, one of the other teams on my squad found themselves without a host for the month. Their contact in the southern half of the country had fallen through a couple days before we were all set to arrive, so they booked an AirBnB for a few nights and waited to see what the Lord had planned.
Within days, they’d met a man who offered them a free house and a car for the month. He also had connections in Egypt.
When I heard they were writing a proposal to switch the route again and send a couple teams into Egypt, I was mildly excited. I made no assumptions that I would be included, but good for them. When almost three hundred Coptic Christians were killed or injured in a terrorist attack on an Egyptian church around the same time, I shelved that excitement. It just didn’t seem realistic.
After that, I didn’t hear much more about the proposal. The few updates I heard in passing were full of skepticism.
In January, months after the proposal was first submitted, I learned (contrary to almost everyone’s expectations) that we’d been approved to send one team to Egypt, and I was asked if I’d like to be on that team. There was just one problem. We needed to raise upwards of $11,500 to cover the cost of the route change in just under four weeks.
Then, there was another problem. The original agreement with our potential host had changed, so the proposal needed to be completely rewritten, resubmitted, and reapproved in that same timeframe. That process had previously taken three months.
I didn’t know if I want to go. I didn’t know if I wanted to take on that financial commitment. Saying ‘yes’ to Egypt meant saying ‘no’ to Armenia, where the rest of our squad would spend their month. I didn’t think a strong desire to see the Pyramids was enough of a reason to get on a plane. I didn’t think I had the same passion for Egypt as some of the other members of the team. Their stories of ‘getting to Egypt’ are different than mine. It was an afterthought in my prayers.
When I prayed and asked God if he wanted me to go to Egypt, I didn’t get a clear answer. Sometimes, I think God wants us to decide for ourselves.
So, I flipped a coin.
In twenty-four days, we exceeded our fundraising goal. The approval went through the office and the flights were purchased about a week and a half before departure.
It’s been an incredible month. We’re flying out from Cairo tomorrow to start our next adventure in Kazakhstan. There’s more to the story that I can’t post online, but I’m so grateful for my time here. In our journey to Egypt, time and time again, God opened doors where I never bothered to knock.
He didn’t need me, but He chose me anyway.
