Ever since maybe middle and high school, I've known I was different. I've had this undeniable heart for people who are not like I am. I did have a certain crowd that I hung out with in high school, but I never limited myself to this crowd of people. I liked and appreciated diversity, and I still do.
I didn't realize that missions could possibly be my call until college when I started attending Port City Community Church (Wilmington, NC). My first few months at the church, I attended by myself, feeling everything out and getting to know my surroundings. It wasn't until sophomore year when I started really searching for somewhere to be. I started volunteering and then I started to think a little more internationally trying to figure out if I wanted to stay in America to study or go abroad for a semester. Since I am a Spanish major, the most likely location for me to search would be either Latin America or Spain…somewhere that spoke Spanish, of course. So I started looking up study abroad programs in Spain! The plan was to go to Barcelona, or so I thought…
My mom mentioned to me at one point whether or not I would like to go to Africa. She had been apparently searching through PC3's mission schedule. This was back in the earlier months of 2010 and in February, I went home 2 weekends in a row and I don't remember why. I remember telling my mother that I felt like something was going to happen, like I was going to get an answer (because the choice was between Barcelona for study abroad and Kenya with PC3). The first week nothing happened but the second week was an answer that I didn't know was going to happen. I found out I was headed to Africa in August and I was FULLY FUNDED. $2600 totally taken care of. I didn't even know what to do with myself. My mother spilled the koolaid in one of her creative ways. She put different pictures of things that had to do with the trip in a box so I had to figure out the puzzle. I was so confused! There was a picture of a plane, a lion, a set of numbers, stuff like that. She eventually told me, "You're going to Africa." I placed my hands to my face and started crying. Instant confirmation that that was where the Lord wanted me to be in August.
I know I talk about Kenya alot and I'm excited to be back there, but that was my first ever missions experience and I'll never forget it.
I'll never forget the rush of the airplane flights and connecting and waiting in foreign places. I won't forget Scott playing his guitar in the Ethiopian airport or singing happy birthday to that random lady on the flight. I won't forget the connections and friends that I made with my team. I won't forget playing soccer in the green fields that were outlined by foothills of Nakuru. I won't forget those kids that I met that just love the Lord despite what they've been through. I won't forget the culture. I won't forget anything.
Since then, I've also been to Guatemala (back in March) and now I'm supposed to go on the World Race and for my particular route visit Kenya and Guatemala AGAIN! What a blessing to revisit those places where my foundation for missions was planted.
My heart to serve in missions for the Lord has filled up with joy, peace, satisfaction, and many many more things that I will never be able to grasp nor forget in my life on this Earth. I long to see the smiles of childrens' faces and smell the unfamiliar air of a culture that I'm not used to! As weird as that sounds…
