Before I begin, let me tell you why I’m even making a blog about this.
I went to Kenya for the first time in 2015. It was my very first missions’ trip. It was where I discovered my heart for missions, and that bracelet was a piece of Kenya that I always carried with me. It was something physical that I could feel connected with at all times. It never left my wrist.
It was the day of the fitness hike. I realized it was gone in the afternoon, after the hike, lunch, and showers. When I realized it wasn’t on my wrist, I mentally had a panic attack. I started searching the places I had last been – the porta-potties, the showers, the patio I just sat on, and the campsite. I even looked on the “Lost and Found” table. Nothing. It took a lot to keep me from crying in front of my squad. My squadmates tried to help me search, but it didn’t do much. That night was dinner at your own campsite, not with the everyone in the pavilion. After dinner, we had a time of worship. It was really hard to stay focused when I wanted to go out and keep looking for it. I know what some of you are thinking: “It’s a bracelet. What’s the big deal? You can get another one.” That’s the thing. Even if I do get another one, it can’t really replace the one physical connection I had with Kenya. Even if it’s identical, it still isn’t the same. During the worship time, it was evident that I wasn’t interacting with the group, so one of the guys tried to encourage me to come and be a part of it. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears started to flow down my cheeks. I covered my face with one hand, turning away slightly so I wouldn’t draw a lot of attention. He came over, then one of the leaders pulled me aside so I could talk to her. After I told her the story of my bracelet, she hugged me and prayed for me. The tears were still flowing, so I went to my tent for some privacy. I wanted to be with my group, but I couldn’t focus enough to stay engaged the whole time. In my tent, I cried like I lost someone so precious and dear to me. It literally felt like I was grieving for it. Thankfully, some people sympathized with me, but it still hurt.
Now, I’m actually okay. I miss it, but I’m okay with not having it. Who knew something so small could leave such an impact on someone. I’ll miss it. Bye, bracelet. Maybe I’ll get another one like you.
