Tuesday, May 17, 2011

And So it Begins...

     I love looking through old pictures and scrapbooks. Every photograph holds a memory... some bring joy while others bring pain. For me, pictures often give those "What was I thinking?' moments as I look at hair that needed a straightener and makeup that needed to be a little darker so I could resemble a human being and not a pale ghost. It's a weird feeling when I look at myself in pictures. Sometimes I am proud of the girl who looks so happy at this point in time. I remember the excitement, the feelings of joy, the moments that brought the laughter captured in the frame. Yet, sometimes I feel sorry for that girl... the girl who lived in fear and wanted so desperately to be liked by those around her.  I wish I could go back and hug her, tell her not to try so hard, and to pay attention to the people in the background as much as the people in the pose. More importantly, I would whisper in her ear that it's all going to get better... in fact, it's everything she dreamed of and so much more. 
      This afternoon, I was going through old pictures in an attempt to clean and organize, and I discovered a picture I had drawn when I was eight years old of several girls in Indian saris, and one was telling the others God loves them. While it's not the most beautifully drawn picture in the world (although my saris were quite lovely), it perfectly captures my heart.
     I was eight years old when I first heard that there are 2 billion people in the world who have never heard of Jesus Christ. For a good little church girl attending a Christian camp at the time, this posed as a serious problem. I remember a missionary coming to my school and telling a story about a huge flood that had occurred where he was serving. He was excited when he shared that no Christians had been killed out of the thousands who died, and I couldn't understand why he was so happy. Didn't it mean all of those who died didn't have Jesus? I would watch missions videos at church and inwardly be screaming "Someone needs to tell them!"  Very gently, God began whispering to my heart "Why don't you?". And thus, the dream began. 
     At eight years old, I came home from camp and informed my mom that I was going to be a missionary, and I was going to India. Since then, my heart has been waiting anxiously as God has been leading me throughout the world and preparing my heart for what He has in store. He first sent me to Honduras, then Peru, and for the past two summers, the Philippines... a country that has captured my heart and refused to let go. This summer (actually in one week), God has given me the amazing privilege to travel to the place I have only dreamed about until this point... India. And yes, I am beyond excited. 
     I have been debating creating this blog for a long time. Is anyone even going to read this? I guess if anything, Mom will have some great entertainment. I will always write better than I speak, and I want you to travel with me through this amazing journey that God has created. I will not always include every detail, because some dreams are being held securely by God until the time is right for them to be revealed. I will also change names to protect privacy when the situation calls for it. But, you can always be assured that I will be honest. I will speak from my convictions, and hopefully with grace and tact. My prayer is not that you will read these words and think "Oh, what a wonderful little life she leads". Rather, my prayer is that you will read these words and be inspired to follow Jesus in whatever journey He has for you. It will not be easy, but I promise you dear friends, it will always be worth it. 
    
    

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