Getting to Africa has been my number one goal since I was knee-high to a grasshopper (a long time). When I felt the landing gear hit the tarmac on April 1st, something jumped in my heart. Through out the next few weeks, I could see the Lord revealing to me what I've loved for so long but not understood. There's something deep within my heart that began to awaken breathing in the African air and meeting the people of my dreams. And at the end of the month I had one of my WILDEST dreams come true. My two favorite people in a place I never thought I would get to, let alone have them there with me. 

            

 My Mum and Pop in Africa, who could ask for anything more!!?

 

My parents are both very humble people, they are hard-working, kind-hearted and incredibly self-sacrificing. When I think of my Dad, I think of a statement by Magwich, a character in Charles Dickens book, when he says to the boy he supported all his life. "I worked hard so you could live easy." 

My dad has worked hard all this life, he doesn't shy away from man's work, and he isn't too proud to do the little jobs either. To me, there isn't anything this man can't do, when my car breaks down in the middle of the country, he gets on the phone and tells the mechanic how things need to go. When I'm rubbing my last dimes together, he already has money on it's way. When I tell him that something will never work out he tells me it will, and that he'll tell me "I told you so" when it does work out. He points me to Christ and continually encourages me to continue on, even when I know he would rather me quit and come home. Dang, He is a good man. Adding all the more to his character is his choice of my mother. Well done dad. 

My mom is beautiful. She is full of kindness and love. She cares for people in a way I can't seem to grasp. She loves without any expectation of receiving anything in return. She has an unyielding loyalty that I could only hope to have a fraction of. She has listened to my ridiculous antics and tangents for countless hours. She has a deep passion for the Lord and always turns me back to Him when I'm being over-dramatic about life. She has shown me an example of a godly woman, and set the bar incredibly high as mother. I can only hope to be half as kind and loving to my own kids one day. They are both THE biggest blessing the Lord has given me. 

 

The story starts a few months earlier when our squad received an e-mail from the World Race. It said, 'parents are invited to a week-long missions trip in Kenya'. My heart stopped. Up to this point in my life, I have been independent in the darkest of it's forms. My dear parents have gone through years of having been left in the dark so many times, because of my stubborn pride. 'I can do it myself, and i'll do it alone.' Parents coming to Launch? No, thank you. Parents coming to L.A? (after 3 months on the race) Mmmm…No, thank you. I'm my own woman. But something in my heart changed over the months, not to say that I didn't love my parents. I did very much, but from a distance. But, at the thought of my parents coming to AFRICA, something filled me with strange hope and joy. So, sitting in a Malaysian frozen yogurt shop(the best wifi spot) I face-timed my parents…at one in the morning. AND this is month I was 'fasting' the internet, so needless to say, my parents quickly picked up, probably thinking that I had lost my mind and was requesting a ticket home on the next flight out. But instead I told them the exciting news and begged them to consider coming to Kenya in May. If you've ever talked to my parents, this is something I really couldn't have imagined my parents ever doing. My Mom is deathly afraid of airplanes and my Dad is a busy man, getting time off work, funding two tickets half-way across the world? I thought to myself, 'this will NEVER happen, but at least I could ask'. 

 

Months later, I was an ivory face in a sea of beautiful ebony faces awaiting the arrival of the 9.30pm flight from the Netherlands. My parents were coming to Kenya. I cannot describe to you the depths of excitement that were rushing through my veins. I stood behind the ropes in the area for those waiting for a passenger. In front of me were two sliding doors and because they had decorative pictures of Kenya all over them, there was no way to see who was coming towards the doors until they actually walked through them. Each time those blessed doors rolled open, my heart would jump in the hope that I would see those two familiar faces. After over 45 torturous minutes of fake-outs and heart palpitations, they came strolling through the doors. I'm fairly sure I screamed and ran into their awaiting arms. What a moment. As the week progressed I saw my parents reaching out to my team and to my friends. Caring and loving people they had never met before and caring for each other through all the emotions and struggles of the inevitable culture shock. They had their world turned upside down. Having not been out of the country in 20 years, there was a lot to take in. They are from a quite town and still live outside of town. We're quite people that enjoy coffee on the front porch, reading the newspaper to the rhythm of the birds and barking dogs. And all the sudden there are smelly world-racers, parents from all over the country, missionaries on the base, all those coupled with population of Kenya. They had a pretty consistent schedule all day and ate foods they weren't used to, met people they had no idea how to talk to, and did jobs that could have given 10 men a run for their money. They gave it their all. And all this after the incredibly shaking ordeal of having their daughter robbed in the night by 8 Kenyan men with knives and clubs, literally only nights ago. If I were them, I would not have been able to hold it together, but they summoned every ounce of strength they had and carried on, there were hard times. The stress wore us down and devil had his way a few times, but the Lord is stronger and pulled us through. He was glorified that week by the sacrifice of my parents. They sacrificed their time, money and comfort that week as well as their daughter, all over again. They sacrificed me at the beginning of the race to let go of me in their hearts, but after the robbery they had to let go all over again. I know that in their hearts they would have literally done anything to bring me back with them and to keep me safe. But they trusted God with me, again. On top of that they encouraged me to keep going and to serve the Lord no matter what the cost. God used them in so many incredible ways that week. I saw my Mom (a nurse obsessed with cleanliness) hugging and playing with ragged dirty children, helping dig and rebuild a mud house, I saw my Dad sharing the gospel to strangers that were hungry for the Lord, working hard at construction and mud slide relief and both of them playing games with everyone at night and enjoying fellowship with other parents and racers. The Lord has done a work in their lives and isn't done yet. When you read this mom and dad, my question is, What can I blog about next? 

The Lord has such incredible plans for you both. Don't look back now, the best is yet to come.