I’ve always wanted to do a missions trip of some sort, but for whatever reason, it never happened. The timing was always wrong, I didn’t feel convicted enough, I was too scared, couldn’t afford it, insert excuse here _________.
A few months ago, I started feeling the nudge again. Africa. I started feeling a push, a voice, His voice, over and over.
Africa.
You know when you get to that point in your life where things are too comfortable? Too easy? Too good? That’s where I am right now. And I’m feeling a push, a voice, His voice, telling me to leave it all behind for a few weeks.
I see children that need to be loved. Babies that need to be held. Women that need to be encouraged.
There are, of course, children that need to be loved and babies that need to be held and women that need to be encouraged right here in my city. All over this city, actually.
But part of the journey involves leaving the comfort behind me. It involves being away from my warm house and my sweet baby and my pantry full of food and my endless running water. It involves a fresh perspective on life and a whole new appreciation for the daily blessings I too often take for granted.
Last night I was praying for a sign from God, which is something I rarely do. This morning I opened my Bible to Matthew 28 and read the great commission, writing it down in my prayer journal:
“Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
A few hours later I was in the car driving and turned the radio on. It was set to K-Love (Christian radio) and lo and behold—they began discussing Matthew 28 and the great commission.
And there it was.
Clear as day, the sign I had asked for.
Africa.
I’m going to Africa.
And I’m going to need your help. Details coming soon.
