Missions Adventures: INDIA!!=)

Wow, where do I start?? This is the blog that I've been waiting for. The one I've been praying for. The one I've been dreaming of. And, have even cried over. Whenever I think about India I smile, tear up, and fall apart all at once. India. The word alone brings butterflies to my stomach. Ask my friends - I can turn any conversation into one about India. Ask my family - my room is filled of pictures and memories from my two weeks in India. I don't love India because it was "fun." I don't love India because it was a great vacation filled with "good times." And, trust me, I don't love India because it was easy. In fact, India was hard. I sweated a lot. I worked really hard every day, every minute I was there. I didn't get a lot of sleep. I saw horrific living conditions. I encountered a lot of broken people. I ate weird foods. I played sports in 100+ weather every day. But none of that was the hardest part. The hardest part about India wasn't showering out of a bucket, sleeping with lizards, or even spraining my ankle. The hardest part about India was leaving.

As you can tell, I'm pretty crazy about India. I never would have expected to be so passionate about a place SO far away from everyone that I love. But, thankfully, God doesn't work within my human comprehension. I'll never forget the day my dad first brought up the idea of me going to India with him. After not going on a missions trip in the summer of 2010, I was ready to go anywhere really. However, I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. What God was getting me into, really.

I wish that I could recount every detail of India. But that would take up a whole blog series in and of itself. So, I'll touch the highlights and hope that it will give you just a taste of what I was able to experience.

In the couple weeks that I spent in India I would learn a lot of things. I learned that God has a plan in everything. I learned that most of the time, that plan isn't what I had in mind. I learned that the only way to bridge the gap between two completely different cultures is love. I learned more everyday about the love of Jesus. I learned how to look through the eyes of Jesus, love with His heart, and reach out with His hands and feet.

One day, about the middle of our trip, we visited the slums. I wasn't very prepared for what I was about to see. I pictured the slums as this place where poorer people could go to live. What I saw, though, wasn't "poorer people." I saw and met and interacted with the poorest people. I prayed with people who have never had a place to call "home." I gave medicine to children who will never see a real doctor.

As soon as I stepped out of the van, a horrific stench filled my nose. I gagged at the amount of garbage that surrounded me. I was in utter and complete shock at what I saw. I couldn't shake the dizzy, sick feeling that overwhelmed me. We were immediately ushered into a church (that was about the size of my family room at home) where we would pray over people after they saw the doctor that we brought with us. They would then be given a baggie that contained things like Advil, vitamins, and band aids. These are "essentials" to us Americans. To these people living in the slums, though, these are privileges. I was able to pray for a woman that day who had been married for less than a year and was expecting a child any day. She had been having intense pains throughout her whole pregnancy. Her husband was gone everyday looking for work. They had to move to the slums because they simply did not have any money.

This woman's story broke my heart. If I get married one day, I'll go to several stores and pick out dishes, paint colors, and bed spreads. I'll make pretty invitations lined with lace and flowers. I'll move into an apartment or house somewhere that has four walls, a stove, and a bathroom. Before I have children I'll go to the doctor and see my baby growing inside of me. I'll take vitamins to ensure the healthiest pregnancy possible. This young girl didn't have any of that. She didn't have a bed. She didn't have a family. She didn't have a doctor. For all I knew, she didn't even have food to eat.

After we were finished with the clinic, we took a walk through the slum. I'm not sure I can even write about this without falling apart, but to put it simply, injustice filled every single one of my senses. The words poverty, neediness, and depravity don't even begin to cover what I saw that day. There were stray goats, cats, and chickens roaming through the garbage everywhere. There were women cooking the stray animals so that their families could eat. Children walked around literally naked.

Recovering from the slums was the hardest part of India. I don't know that I ever will recover after what I saw that day. I will never be the same.

In addition to the slums, I was involved in sports ministry and helping with a discipleship class for girls everyday. After spraining my ankle playing soccer with some kids, I was told I couldn't put any pressure on my foot for the rest of my visit. My parents offered to let me go home early. I cried at the thought. So, instead, I sat with the "home girls" for hours everyday. The home girls are girls who live at what we would call an orphanage. There are about 25 of them ranging in ages from 5-16. They are what are known as "social orphans." This means that most of their parents are still living, but could not or refused to care for them. These beautiful girls have the opportunity to grow up in a really big family with a lot of love. They have every right to be angry, hurt, and bitter. But instead they are the most joy-filled people I have ever met. These girls, who own only 3 outfits, are more content than me. When I sprained my ankle, I had the opportunity to simply sit and talk with these girls. They braided my hair, I taught them games, and they sang for me. At the end of our trip, they were waiting for us on their lunch break from school. We were all trying to stay positive, not wanting to make a big scene. But, when there are 25 crying girls waiting to say goodbye to you, it's impossible to hold it together.

There's one more part of my India trip that I want to share with you. After being back home for about a week, I was walking with the help of only one crutch. One morning I suddenly had really intense back and stomach pain. I laid on my bed, not knowing what else to do. My brother, who was visiting us, was in the shower. My dad wasn't home and my mom was downstairs. After laying down for a few minutes the pain was only worse. I was trying to call for my mom, but I could barely speak. I knew my phone was across the room. I attempted to stand up to get it, but only fell back on my bed from dizziness. I don't know how, but my mom finally heard me. Sometimes moms just have an instinct about these things. After going to two different hospitals and going through just about every type of test possible, they decided to remove my appendix. They could tell that it was a little swollen, but weren't sure why it was causing me so much pain. Well, like I said before, God always knows what He's doing. While they were in surgery removing my appendix, they also found a 4 cm. ovarian cyst that had ruptured. If they had found it any later, it would have caused me much more pain and done much more harm to my body.

Why do I tell you this? I tell you this because every single time I've come back from a missions trips, I've gone through a hard time. This being the hardest time I had. I want you to understand that missions is not what most people would consider fun. Missions is not just an opportunity to fly half-way across the world. Doing the work and will of God is going to be hard. It's going to be filled with difficult circumstances. Why is it like this? Because when you're doing the will of the creator of the universe, the great I AM, and the king of kings, the Devil will do anything possible to stop you. Just as much as God has a plan for your life, the Devil does too. I don't say this to get all supernatural or weird on you. I say it because it's true. But here's the good news - God always wins. Good will always overcome evil. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can separate you from the overwhelming love of the Father.

I hope you've enjoyed reading about my trip to India. I am thrilled to to tell you that I am returning to India this summer. Please be praying for my church and me as we take this exciting journey. I can't wait to write about my second trip to India!!

Missions Adventures: Scotland.

After going to Honduras, I was hooked. I couldn't stop thinking about missions. In February of 2009, I was sitting on our family room floor one Sunday night, researching "missions trips for teens." One of the first results on Google for my search was Global Expeditions. As I clicked on the website a picture of a little dirty girl on the street suddenly popped up. As I stared at  the screen, more pictures came up. Some were of children who were obviously living in poverty. Others were of teenagers hanging out at parks. One after another, these pictures captured me. I immediately started looking at the different missions trip options Global Expeditions had. I wanted to go everywhere!! But when I clicked on Scotland, something happened. I can't explain exactly what happened, but all I know is that God couldn't have made Himself any clearer. I was going to go to Scotland. After mustering up the courage, I took the laptop to my mom and showed her everything I could find out about Global Expeditions and Scotland. Although I'm sure she wasn't thrilled with the idea of her nearly 15 year old daughter flying to Europe for two weeks with a group of people she didn't know, she said that if dad was ok, she would be ok with it too. Dad was the easy part. What pastor wouldn't want his daughter to go to the very country where our family originated?? He really had no choice but to say yes. Getting my parents permissions was just the beginning, however.

I had about 5 months to raise almost $3,000. This sounds extremely overwhelming, and believe me, sometimes it was more than overwhelming! However, some of the greatest lessons I've learned have come from fundraising for missions trips. Just when I think it's hopeless, God reminds me that He will never ever give me more than I can handle. If God has called you to something, even if it's something big (actually, especially if it's something big!), don't ever doubt His faithfulness. He WILL provide. It just might not be in the exact way you're planning.

June came very quickly. Before I knew it I was studying for exams and making a packing list for Scotland. I was giddy over the thought of going on another trip. Everyday at school my friends asked me how many more days because they all knew that I had a countdown. It was about the first week of June, and I knew I still needed 1,000 more dollars in the short amount of time I had before I left. I was overwhelmed, scared, and even frustrated. Why would God call me if He wouldn't provide? Well, the answer is simple. He wouldn't. You see, God, He's not waiting for us to fail. What He's doing is waiting for us to trust. My mom and sister put together a last minute yard sale that made me $700. I was so close. The week that I was leaving, I still needed 300 more dollars. I wrote an email to a group of close family and friends, and within hours I had $400 committed to my trip. God is good. Need I say more?

The reason why I write so much about my fundraising experience is because trusting God for money to go on missions trips has been a huge part of my life and has even made me who I am today. God has showed me just how much He cares for me by providing every single time, without fail.

The night that I met my team for the first time, I journaled this... "It's been fun getting to know teenagers from all over the country who are just like me. It's good to know I'm not the only one who wants to make a difference." This tells you just a little about the type of people I had the incredible opportunity to get to know while I was in Scotland. When you put a group of strangers together to do the work of God, it will result in a family. This is exactly what I experienced during my time in Scotland. 

We were in a beautiful country with incredible people staying in a castle. Seems like the life, right?? Well, not exactly... you see, we were tired, jet lagged, homesick, and overwhelmed. We were doing a lot of work around the castle, to make flats for single moms and their kids to live in. The abortion rate in Scotland is sickeningly high. The Overton House (the in-country mission we teamed up with while there) was doing something to reward the girls who had made the difficult, right decision to keep their babies. 

Too many teenagers in Scotland are faced with issues such as abortion, drug abuse, depression, self-inflicted harm, and physical abuse. You see, Scotland isn't a third-world country. Physically speaking, they don't need help. I didn't experience any poverty there. I didn't see any hungry children begging on the streets. I didn't witness to any gang members. But what I did see, broke my heart just as much, if not more. 

I had the opportunity to speak to a 15 year old girl in a skate park one afternoon. She was there with her boyfriend who had some sort of tracking device around his ankle because he was in trouble with the police. She was telling me that her father had physically abused her so she moved in with her boyfriend who was a drug addict. Because of the emotional pain from the men in her life, she had resorted to cutting and had attempted suicide. She knew that her boyfriend wouldn't be a good father, so she aborted two of their babies. This is just one story. I've never forgotten it and often find myself praying for this young girl.

Scotland is close to my heart because it's not like any other missions trip I have been on. As I said, it's not a third-world country. Because of that, people don't need anything from what they call stuck-up Americans (to be honest, I must agree with them sometimes!). To them, they don't even need Jesus. But what I experienced in Scotland told me the very opposite. These people need Jesus just as much as orphans in Honduras do. Their need simply looks different. I couldn't simply give them some food to show them the love of Jesus. I had to step out of my comfort zone and find creative ways to show them the love of Jesus.

What God taught me in Scotland has made me who I am today.  The people I met in Scotland have made a life-long imprint on my heart. Going to Scotland taught me that God's calling comes in all different shapes and sizes. So do His people.

Missions Adventures #2: Honduras

It was the summer of 2008, right before my freshman year of high school, when I had the opportunity to go to Honduras with an incredible team from my church. I remember being very excited, but not very sure about it at the same time... I was scared. Not about going to a different country, though. I don't even think it hit me that I was 14 years old and going to a foreign country without any of my family. Truthfully, I was scared that God would "call me to the mission field." I put that phrase in quotes because now, after more growth, I think that every person is called to the mission field. I think that a stay at home mom with three temper-tantrum children is on her mission field. I think that a successful businessman sitting in meetings all day is on his mission field. I think that the single parent working 3 jobs just to make ends meet is on their mission field. I think that the teenager at a party is on their missions field. God's "field" isn't necessarily a village in Africa like us Christians like to think of it as. God's field is anywhere that lost people are. And, well, you know as well as I do that that's everywhere! Anyhow, 4 years ago when I was going to Honduras, I was scared that God was calling me to the Africa sort of field where I would only see my family every 5 years and I would never have running water. Now, if you know me at all, you're probably laughing. Don't worry, when I was reading my journal from that summer I laughed too.

My first journal entry from this trip was written when I was on the airplane. I mentioned that I was excited, but nervous. Looking back on it, I had no idea what I was in for!! Less than 24 hours after we arrived I wrote this "I've already been changed. Just seeing poor, broken people is all it takes... I have to do something to help these hurt, broken-hearted people." Reading these words again, brings tears to my eyes as I remember the things that I saw that week. But, at the same time, I smile. I smile because that's the first time I remember realizing that the very thing I was scared about was becoming real... God was calling me. His call didn't come in the form of a loud voice, a burning bush, or a flood. I did, though, hear God's voice. I heard His voice in the sound of little orphans running through the streets. I felt His love in the hugs of children clinging onto me. I saw His compassion when I, for the first time in my life, witnessed true poverty. I'm not talking about not having cable TV. I'm talking about not knowing whether or not you're going to eat tomorrow.

Up to that point in my life, I had never seen poverty like I saw it that week. One of the memories that has stuck with me since Honduras is our team leader explaining to us that in Honduras they don't bury people once they die like we do in America. But instead, they put them in coffins and leave them in fields. When people are roaming the streets at night (like so many people do) they will take the dead body out of the coffin and hide in there in order to escape from the gangs that are threatening their lives. It is a heart-breaking reality that happens all over the world.

In Honduras, we went to a lot of schools to perform a drama, do a craft, or just love on the kids. We went to a prison and were able to tell men who had literally murdered people that Jesus died for them. We helped a local church and orphanage which was also where we stayed. On Sunday June 29, 2008 I wrote in my journal about helping out in different churches' Sunday School programs. I wrote "It's so crazy how a 7 year old can change your whole outlook on life... being here only for a couple days makes me feel like this is what I'm called to." Yes, I finally admitted it=)

For the rest of that summer, I continued to write about how much I missed Honduras. All I wanted was to go back. It doesn't really make sense that I wanted to go to a place where there were a lot of hurting people, no clean water, and more violence than security. But, this was just the first of what I like to call "missions hangovers" that I would experience. I've come to be very familiar with this term. Every time I've come back from a missions trip I've gone through a missions hangover. It's a period of time when "reality" hits in. The reality that I live in a safe neighborhood in a free country with two parents who love me vey much, running water, a TV, a bed, a pantry and two refrigerators filled with food, a closet filled with clothes, and more Bibles than most people groups in the world have. It's not fair. I would love to be able to say that every time I come back from a missions trip it gets a little easier. But I would be lying if I did. Truthfully, it gets harder each time. In my next few blogs, you'll read about some of the hardest times of my life which have inconsequently immediately followed a missions trip.

Honduras will always be close to my heart. It's the place where I fell in love. I fell in love with the Savior of the universe who, I discovered, doesn't just live in America. I fell in love with children with deep brown eyes who simply want to be loved. I fell in love with gang members who will probably never leave prison. But, mostly, I fell in love with a place. A place that I've discovered can really be anywhere that you allow it to be. A place where Jesus is constantly sending people. A place where you are every single day: the mission field.