So to set the stage and be real, you should know I’m not what one would call a seasoned missionary. My first mission trip was in March this year, to New Orleans. If you would have asked me to go on a trip anywhere 6 months ago, I wouldn’t have given it much thought. I would have said “Missions is not my type of ministry, I’ve always been the guy working behind the scenes at the church, and that’s all I can do right now while I’m in school.” It’s not that I didn’t think missions we’re important or that they shouldn’t happen, I just thought they weren’t my cup of sweet tea.
Luckily, my community of close friends have been on a team that sends trips down to New Orleans every other month or so. They convinced me to go one weekend. I thought, “Why not? It’s just a few days, i’ll do some work, and be back Monday.” Of course, God had another plan for that weekend. That weekend, I got to meet the family that they were basically sponsoring down there: Kenny, Tasha, the kids, and extended family.
My heart broke for them and I joined the team that goes down to New Orleans about every month or so. I help support the team by planning for trips, fund raising, and recruiting. My heart is dedicated to New Orleans and those that struggle through disasters like Katrina. This is because of just one weekend.
Lesson 1 from Apple St:
God has been talking to me about how sooooo blessed and lucky I am to be as spoiled as I am growing up in North Georgia, to go to an awesome school, to do what I love, and have great things. I have so many countless blessings. From my family, friends, church, mentors, environment, health, support, pastor, house, car… EVERYTHING.
Everything is a blessing and I don’t deserve any of it.
Who am I to not want to give back?
“Praise the Lord, O My Soul;
all my inmost being,
praise his Holy name”
