My first mission trip was in sixth grade to Mexico. I remember my little heart was so excited to serve, to experience a new culture, to love people, and to see God in a new way. I wish I could find my journal from back then because I bet it would be filled with stories and prayers and words of wisdom that would be so simple, yet fitting for this season. I remember the two day journey to get there in a van, the house we built, the relationships we made with locals, working in the preschool, walking the market. Brick by brick we built a house. And little did I know, brick by brick Papa was building a foundation of ministry and missions in my heart.
In middle school and high school I couldn’t get away from missions, church, and serving. I loved it. My heart was made for it. I went on three other mission trips, each time not wanting to come back as my heart longed for more time, more space. I got to teach English in South Korea, VBS in Peru, and leadership training in the refugee camps in Kenya.
Because of my heart for missions, my goal was to be a teacher or a nurse so that I could go overseas and help. That was my dream. That still is. Papa instilled something in my heart, a call that has only grown bigger as time has gone.
Going in to college I decided on nursing. Four years and then I could be in the mission field; helping, learning, growing, sharing the love of Jesus. Well turns out nursing was not for me. So I thought, “ok I’ll teach. That will be good and I’ll have plenty of time to do ministry”. Again, Papa had different plans. Through a summer of prayer and camp ministry, Papa clearly spoke to me and shifted my eyes to ministry (a funny crazy story that I’ll share sometime).
Throughout college I was hands on in a lot of different ministries, even before my shift in my major. I led young life for a year and a half. I did summer staff at Malibu young life camp. I did two summers of camp ministry. I was a youth ministry intern at a church. All these things preparing my heart and shaping my spirit/soul. Then, when I finally accepted this call to ministry, it all made sense as I reflected on my journey. It often does when we look back and reflect at where Papa has taken us.
Now, here I am. A MONTH away from being a missionary for a year. A month away from doing what Papa has been calling me to do for most of my life. It seems surreal to say the word “missionary”, because all those years dreaming about it and now I am finally here. Wow. It has taken a lot to get to this point. A lot of arguing with God. A lot of surrender. A lot of asking and praying and seeking and waiting. And through it all, he was faithful!
Now all I can do is look back on little sixth grade me, venturing out into the unknown, excited and curious. And just like that, ten years later, I am in the exact same spot. Excited and curious. Ready to serve, love people well, share the love and freedom of Papa, and begin stepping into this calling. I hope to continue seeing through my sixth grade eyes as I step out, leaning on my father, being obedient to where he continues to lead. Oh to hold on tightly to that child like faith and remain curious.
