not a local

Me!

A few years ago, I stumbled upon Jeremy Cowart’s photography. Shortly after that, he went on a mission trip to Africa and came back with some spectacular photos. Over the course of a few months, I kept going back to those photos, falling more and more in love with Africa.

Now I’m a full-fledged missionary-wannabe. This past summer I finally worked up the guts to tell all of this to the man who can make my dreams come true and hold me accountable to them as well. He gave me some very wise words, “If you want to be a missionary in Africa, you must first be a missionary here.”

So here I am, in the middle-of-nowhere Upstate NY, pretending to be a missionary, waiting for the day when I travel overseas, making my right of passage into true adulthood.

So…dinner… A new staff couple here at the Hood has graciously invited me over for dinner tomorrow night. His parents run an orphanage in Zambia and they’re here on furlough. They’re only in town for two days and I’m humbled that they invited me over when there’s little time for them to spend together. I’m also a little nervous.

I’ve started making plans (and by plans I mean thinking about it, pondering it in my brain for hours on end) to go to Africa this fall for two weeks. It won’t be with an organization; I know enough people over there where I won’t need the support of a parent agency. I’m hoping I won’t have to make the trip alone (cough*friendiaskedwhohasn’tansweredmeyet), but I don’t want to go with a big group either.

I digress. Meeting this couple makes me nervous because all parties involved know there’s a specific purpose behind it. They may be a large open door into the continent, and I’m scared that I may say something wrong. Or talk about the wrong thing. Or make an utter fool of myself. So this post is here to ask for prayer. Friends who are keen to pray for me: please pray that I would have wisdom in what to say. I’m an all-or-nothing kinda girl and I often says too much too soon.

Thank you. I’ll keep you updated.