I never thought that I would be called to be a missionary. I love God, always have wanderlust, and do my best to share His love through my everyday living. I’m never the best, and really that is ok because I am in fact human. I’m meant to err.
11 months away from my family and friends will be the most difficult trial I will ever face to date. But I have been called. He has asked me, and while I struggle with the Devil fighting me at every turn, it completely trust that I am expected to fully commit to this journey and God will provide.
A year ago, I witnessed a friend of my brother, who I feel I can now call a friend of my own, begin her journey on the World Race. It was fascinating to see her travels and the way she was able to work with the people of each country she visited. I found it inspiring, but it wasn’t until about 4 months ago that I started to feel the stirring and my soul began to crave the possibility of leaving the country for 11 months. My parents balked a little, and my aunt was rightly concerned. I have friends asking me not to go and my coworkers needing me to stay to help with work. They mean well, and I know that they want me to follow my dreams. This dream just kind of came out of no where and surprised everyone.
I got the acceptance, but for the two weeks I was given to decide, I couldn’t help thinking that this was all a huge misunderstanding. I’m not a missionary. I don’t know where the funding will come from. I’m not sure that I will even be able to witness to those in need very well. But somewhere between my phone call with my mobilizer telling me I was accepted and the day I official agreed, I faced the most tribulation. One minute I was complexly stoked, and the next I was looking for anyway out of the decision I once thought easy to make. Then it happened, I had dinner with one of my best friends and my mind was made up.
My friend isn’t a believer for her own reasons. I love her to death and she’s always been accepting and understanding of my own beliefs. I choose to live my life as an example of God’s love and acceptance and she’d always said that it shows. Over dinner I told her that I had been officially accepted to go on the World Race, but I had already been hired to work on a guest ranch in Jackson Hole, Wyoming for the Summer which would just make everything leading up to my launch date that much more difficult. My mind continued to list every ‘what if’ scenario I could think of as we spoke and then she hit me with my own personal Moses and Burning Bush moment and she was the bush. She said, ‘if you believe that this is God’s purpose for you, he will make it happen. You can’t worry about it. He isn’t going to give you something you can’t handle.’
As I drove home that night, what she said actually hit me. I cried. God had used someone incredibly important to me, a non believer at the, to speak to me. We started talking about our dinner out to one of our other friends, and I mentioned to her that what she said played a large role on my decision. She kind of shrugged and shook her head. She didn’t know why she said those things in that moment, just that she felt compelled to encourage me in such a way. She was the first person to donate to my trip.
As I sit her, in the literal wilderness, I still don’t know why it is me that God has called upon to serve his people in distant communities. Raising money while living out in the middle of nowhere is insanely hard. Reception is unreliable and mail is impossible to overnight anywhere. All I know is that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I have met amazing people in the last 3 weeks, saving money is relatively easy when living an hour from the nearest town, and I have gotten closer to him in the time I have been in Jackson Hole than I have in years. It’s amazing how easy it is to be appreciative of this gorgeous space that He has given us. The lack of city life makes it simple to pray and talk with Him.
Jackson Hole is probably as close to Heaven as I have been my entire life.
