Of Two Things I Am Certain...

Be warned...this is long...

Of two things I am certain: One, my life is not meant to be lived my own way. Two, my heart breaks for those I cannot see.

It was spring of 2002 and my second semester of college was underway. Life was full of adjustments: living with a stranger within a whole dorm of strangers, finding independence from the rules and roof of the place I called home, and a new schedule full of classes, work, & homework while balancing the "college life". Fall semester had been a rough one and things were not going exactly as I had anticipated. But in the midst of it all, I was learning a new dependency on God.

Three weeks into the new semester, the campus was hosting what was known as the WCAC (World Christian Action Conference). The focus of the week was entirely on international ministries. There were booths set up everywhere around the chapel and our speaker was a former missionary, though I can't remember his name.

It was all new to me, the world of missions. Up to this point, I'd only ever been overseas one time. For that matter, I'd only been on a plane one time! Both happened on the same trip! It was a youth group trip, headed into the Andes Mountains of Peru. My team of 15 was heading up to a small village called Huallanca (Why-on-ka) nestled into the mountains at 12,000 feet. I knew very little of missions prior to this trip. I knew very little of missions after this trip. But one thing I did know: whatever it was that I had experienced 12,000 feet up in those mountains, I was confident that it was only the beginning of the rest of my journey.

At 18 years old, I honestly didn't know what I expected from God and I wasn't entirely sure what He expected of me. But coming home from Peru, something had happened. Life was never going to be the same after that...life was never intended to be the same once you've met with God. And one thing was clear: God was there in the Andes Mountains, in a way that I had never experienced Him before.

Fast forward to seven months later and there I was, sitting in a chapel full of students listening to some guy rant and rave about life overseas. Honestly, I don't remember much of what he said. I'm not actually sure that I remember any of what he said. No...what I remember is that unshakable feeling I felt as we wrapped up the conference on day five. Pictures were flashing up on the screen of kids: orphaned by AIDS, stolen off the street...kids, in desperate need of someone to care for them. The speaker continued to share about Africa and Compassion International and some other stuff. There were pictures placed all across the altar for anyone who would like to sponsor a child and get involved. He closed with a prayer and students began to pour toward the front. As for me, I just sat there in my seat with this sinking feeling that my life was about to change in a way I couldn't explain.

I've never before felt what I felt in that moment. Tears slowly began to make their way down my face, and as students headed for the altar, I headed for the door. I walked the entire way back to my dorm in silence, trying desperately to gather my thoughts. When I got in my room, I picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Mom, I think I need to go to Africa."

I honestly hadn't put much thought into those words when they came out. It's not how I anticipated starting the conversation, but when I opened my mouth after hearing my mom's voice on the other end, that's all that came out. I was crying on the phone telling my mom I needed to go to Africa...that can't be a normal way to start a phone conversation!

Without hesitation my mom responded, "Well, I guess I should pray about that." Not, you're crazy, calm down, you're being emotional, or anything else. Simply, "I'll pray about that." I felt crazy and I was emotional, but as I continued to fill my mom in on all that was going through my head, she just listened and encouraged me to pray about it too.

That night I headed home and it was there that my mom and dad were waiting at the dining room table. We talked together, prayed together, and then I took a night to sleep on it. The next morning we got up and talked some more. By this time, we determined there was no harm in seeking out opportunities.

It took all of five minutes for an opportunity to come along.

As I said, I was new to all things missions. The only thing I knew was that the youth trip I had gone on the previous summer to Peru was with a group called Adventures in Missions (AIM). So, I got online and searched for anything I could find on AIM. As I clicked the link to their website, I followed the sidebar options for Upcoming Mission Trips. I clicked on the link and the first thing I saw at the top of the next screen was a trip headed to Kenya, Africa. I'm sure there must have been others listed but that was the only one I saw.

I printed out the online application and any info I could find, found a comfy chair and began reading. "Partner with the local church, work in a school in the Kibera slums, VBS and drama ministry, bring AIDS awareness in the local schools...is God calling you to Kenya?" That's what was typed across the top of the page. My heart skipped a beat. As I continued to read down the page, I noticed one other important detail, the application was due in exactly two weeks!

Two weeks? Two weeks! Two weeks to decide if I should even attempt to take a giant-sized leap like applying for a trip to Kenya?! My head was spinning.

Much of that first week was spent praying, wrestling, and talking with my family. I'd never felt like that before and no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn't. God was stirring in me something that could not be ignored, no matter how hard I tried, it would never go away.

What was I doing? I didn't know a thing about Africa. I'd never been that far away from home. I didn't know a single person who would be on that team. And to top it all off, the dates for the trip were for one MONTH! An entire month in Africa?! Seriously?! I wasn't qualified for something like that! But no matter what excuse I wanted to make, the door was open and I knew I needed to at least attempt to walk through it. I determined then and there that if God didn't want me on this team, I simply wouldn't get accepted. So until I knew that, mailing the application was the only option I had.

Five days later, I was in my dorm room getting ready for my 9 a.m. class when my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the number. The voice on the other end almost made me fall to the floor in shock. An AIM representative had received my application and wanted to conduct an interview over the phone.

I never did make it to my class.

The rep and I talked for about 30 minutes and though I don't remember much of what was said, the words that ended our conversation were words that would soon take my life in a different direction. "Well, congratulations, Kristy! You are now a member of the 2002 Kenya Ambassador Team."

That's where it all started for me. In June of 2002, I found myself on a plane to Kenya. It was like a dream touching down on African soil. That month was spent seeing extreme poverty, extreme hunger, and seeing an extreme God do the impossible day after day. God broke my heart for what breaks His. Each kid left an impression, each face is impossible to forget. When I think about Kenya, I can still hear their voices, see their faces, and remember their stories.

After returning home, I continued to look for opportunities to return, but God had other plans at the time. It would be seven years before I would once again set foot on Kenyan soil. But God's timing is perfect. He shuts doors that no one can open and He opens doors that no one can shut!

In October of 2009, I returned to Kenya with a Global Impact Team from my church (Nappanee Missionary) with a team of 11 adults. And once again, God broke my heart for what breaks His. Holding precious little ones abandoned by their parents, meeting women and teenage girls who were caught up in a life of prostitution desperate to sell the only thing they had to survive, it was impossible to come home to life as usual. My life would never be the same. My life could never be the same. What God had been doing in my heart since that first trip in 2002 awakened in me something that would never go away.

My life is not meant to be lived my own way. And my heart breaks for those I cannot see.

For 8 years now, I've wrestled with the impact of that first trip to Kenya. I've questioned whether long-term missions was a next step for me. I've questioned whether short-term missions is where God has called me. And to be honest, I really don't know. But I know that doing nothing is not an option. I know that being gripped and held back by fear is not the way I'm called to live.

This past May, I filled out an application for World Gospel Mission's (WGM) Volunteers In Action (VIA) program. It wasn't done thoughtlessly. This comes after several years of wrestling and waiting. The VIA Program is designed to give young adults a taste of missionary life in a cross-cultural setting. Participants can go for a couple of months to a year. When I mailed in my application in the beginning of June, I applied for a year of overseas ministry in Kenya.

On Monday, September 20th, after returning from a week of vacation visiting my sister in Arizona, I received an email with my official acceptance! In May of 2011, I will officially leave for Kenya for a year of ministry with WGM.

While there are still so many things I don't know, so many questions I have, and so many fears that are rising up in me as this has now become official...of one thing I am certain:

I WILL..."Trust in the LORD with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding; in all my ways (I'll) acknowledge Him, and He will make my paths straight." -Proverbs 3:5-6