So, I got back from Africa a few days ago and haven’t posted yet. I’ve been thinking a lot about what I should write. And I’ve been thinking that no matter what I do write, you really won’t understand the full depth of my words. And that’s nothing on you, it’s just different being their and reading about it. I remember Mrs. Connie Firmin saying that to me a few years ago, and she was right. I didn’t understand, but now I do.
But for the sake of sharing, I’m going to write about what happened in Africa. Here are some words from my journal:
So it’s the 24th of May and we are finally on the plane to go home. I’m mentally and physically exhausted and yet, I’m sad that I’m leaving. I feel that our team did the very best it could do and accomplished much. I know I will be forever changed by this experience.
Aside from the actual work we did, there were a lot of cool things that happened. I’ve made new friends and built on existing relationships. I’ve grown closer to others and to God. One of the cool things about this trip is that our team was amazing. We got along great. The entire week we were there, we worked in harmony to accomplish what God had called us to do. I’m amazed at how close I’ve grown to these people. There were bonds formed in the back two seats of our little jeep thing, that I pray will not be broken. One of my greatest fears that I am feeling as I fly home, is the relationships that I’ve built going back to the way they were. And that I will go back to being the way I was: self-absorbed and ignorant of the world.
So as I sit here on the plane, I look back and smile at the outcome of this trip. God knew what He was doing when he placed me there. Thank You!
Before coming here, I had certain expectations; certain things I was looking forward to. One of those experiences was being able to look up at the sky and gaze upon the millions upon millions of stars and experience God. But where I experience God was somewhat unexpected. The place that I experience God the most was in the eyes of an orphan boy whose name I cannot say. I’ve found Him in the embrace of little kids. I’ve found Him in the smile of joy of dozens of orphans attacking me for stickers. And when I finally did get to look up at the stars, it felt dull.
