I wish I could say that I’ve had a burning desire to live and serve in other countries since I came out of the womb. Alas, I have not. Yet somehow, some way, here I am. Preparing to go on an 11-month mission trip around the world. How did I end up here, you ask? Well, allow me to explain…
The earliest memory I recall of being asked what I wanted to do with my life was the second grade…I wanted to be a secretary. Unfortunately, that career was doomed before it even started; being unable to spell said career was a tell-tale sign. Any who, after that I went through a string of different phases: a vet, a lawyer (thank you, Legally Blonde), an actress, a doctor, et cetera, et cetera. At some point during those phases, I went on my first mission trip to Arlington, Texas. I wouldn’t necessarily say that I was called to this trip…more like I went because everyone in my youth group was going. Little did I know that it would be the first of many mission trips for me.
I loved my week in Arlington and learned so much about missions. But I wasn’t stirred. I didn’t feel any desire to continue with missions until the end of high school. While I was applying to colleges, I started to hear a whisper. It was so slight that for a long time I thought it was just a desire to travel, to experience other cultures, and to see the world. But then one day, my dad was telling me about a conversation he had with one of his coworkers. It wasn’t long after I’d signed up for my first semester of college classes, one of which factors in to this conversation…Swahili. My dad’s coworker was ranting about the state of the world and somehow he got onto Africa. It was his opinion that America stop giving aid to Africa, because it was a hopeless continent. It would never rise and never heal. And then, he said something profound- “Nobody cares about Africa.”
You know what my Dad’s response was? “I know of a person. My daughter. She’s taking Swahili, an African language, this fall.”
You see, I had signed up for Swahili because I thought it would be interesting. But as my dad was relaying this story to me, I started to feel something other than interesting. I got mad. No, I got pissed. I couldn’t believe that someone would be so willing to write away a whole continent, just because it has problems. It felt all too familiar, and suddenly I realized that I had something in common with Africa. Because I have problems. I have issues. But instead of writing my life away, God wrote away the life of a sinless man, Jesus, in order to save me. He doesn’t think I’m worthless, and He sure as heck doesn’t think Africa is worthless. So in that moment of realization, I decided something. I’m not going to write off Africa. And that’s where it all started…that whisper, turned into a calling.
I went to Africa. My first big mission trip was to Mozambique, Africa. And I loved it(I could talk about it forever, but that’s not what this blog is about. No worries though, I’ll be writing some stuff up about it in later blogs). When I returned, I realized that Africa wasn’t the only place (or group of people) being written off. And I got that same feeling. So I kept going, serving, and loving. Sharing with these people that they were loved and not alone. That the same hope and love God gives me can be theirs too. This is my calling and it’s not just a whisper anymore. It’s a full out shout!
All of this has led me here. I’m going on the World Race, serving the least of these. I’m not some fantastic person for doing this, I’m just answering the call. Because really, who can ignore a shout?
~ If you would like to support me on this endeavor, please pray. Pray for my squad and me as we begin preparing to go on this journey. Also, if you feel like God is calling you, please consider supporting me financially. I have to raise around $15,000 for this trip and I won’t be able to do it without supporters like you. If you would like to support me, clink here. ~
