Sorry, folks, I promised a blog on Saturday and didn't deliver.
I don't know why I promised one on a Saturday, apparently I had high aspirations for my motivation. Haha ohhhh silly me ;)
Ok so, to answer the question I know you're all anxiously awaiting (you probably haven't thought about much else) is why South Africa. And just know, this blog is long.
Before I give you a straight answer, let me back up a few years for a brief second.
About 8 years ago I was a freshman entering college at Georgia College and State University (if you're an alumnus and didn't sing the name of the college in your head as you read it, I'm gonna need you to think hard about your priorities.) I was involved in a ministry on campus called the Wesley foundation. Well, involved is putting it a little lightly. I lived, breathed, and dreamed Wesley. But this isn't about that. My freshman year two upperclassmen in Wesley introduced me to the appalling issue of human trafficking. An issue that holds more than 29 million people captive.
29 million.
Just sit back for a moment and let that fact hit you. 29 million people still in slavery. And a good deal of them in SEXUAL slavery.
But as much as I would love to tell you all about my heart and about the atrocities of human trafficking, I'll have to save that blog for another day. Just know that the issue captured my heart and I knew that I couldn't just sit back and pretend that I didn't care. Now that I knew, I was responsible.
So fast forward to April of 2013. I was in choir at my church and doing the normal routine. Because the choir arrives at the church around 7:45am for the first service and generally stays through the second service, most of them go back into the choir suite after getting off stage and chat through the sermon of the first service. They then will sit through the sermon of the second service in the sanctuary. But there was one Sunday that was different.
A pastor by the name of Greg Evans was at our church from his church in Durban, South Africa and was telling us about the outreach that he does to the strip clubs around his church. And I don't mean that his church all gets in the church bus and travels a couple of miles down the road to go minister to the strip clubs; his church is literally in the middle of a bunch of strip clubs.
Because Jesus loves strippers.
And strip club owners.
And their patrons.
If you don't believe me, I shall direct your attention to John 3:16, where God so loved the world. Not just the sanctified. Not just the pretty. Not just the Christians who can pretend really well that they have all of their crap together. EVERYONE. (And I think that's pretty flipping cool.)
So as I am sitting there in the choir suite, and everyone is oddly quiet and listening to this guy who is blowing apart a lot of pre-conceived notions about what living your life as a Christian should look like.
And I felt The Lord whisper into my spirit "Go."
I was so excited that I looked up plane tickets and timing of when I wanted to go. I felt like Jesus wanted me to be there over my birthday, to give up a day normally all about me to minister to others.
After the second service (which I loved just as much as the first!) I briefly met Pr Greg and told him I'd love to visit his church. He was very gracious and said that any of our church was welcome to come to Durban to work with his church.
Immediately I began to make plans to go to South Africa and really felt like the fall of 2013 was my time to go. And then things started not looking good.
First, the trip was at the end of September, not on my birthday. Ok, that was fine, I was disappointed but could handle it. And then I found out the trip wasn't going to Durban, but another church that we partner with in Nelspruit, Again I was bummed, but I figured that God knew what He was doing.
And then I found out that I wouldn't be able to take off of work. And that the money just wasn't coming in. And I was devastated.
The day that the mission team flew out to South Africa I went to the airport to see them off. I was sitting next to an amazing friend and mentor who I am so glad was there that day. Because really, when isn't it awesome to have Paula Lambert around?! So I was sitting there watching my team be excited. And take pictures. And go through security.
Without me.
I pulled my gigantic sunglasses over my eyes (because people definitely couldn't tell by my red face and quivering lip that I was crying at all) and tried to be brave. But on the inside I was so hurt and confused and angry.
And Paula turned to me and spoke words of life.
She said "Erin, do not be discouraged. You will be in South Africa next year. Look at your desire. Look at your tears. That is where your heart longs to be and God will not deny you that. He called you there and you are going."
Dear heavens I love her.
I went home and tried to be excited every time I saw a member of the team post photos of South Africa, but it was hard. I wanted to be there so badly.
For the next few months I kind of shut down the voice of The Lord and allowed myself to become preoccupied with other things to take my mind off of my hurt and disappointment. But then Jesus called me back to Himself and after an intense time of prayer I gave my desire for Africa to Him.
And then one morning I woke up and just knew that I was supposed to go, and for longer than just the two weeks. I was supposed to go for two months.
I approached my missions pastor and he was all for it. I told my best friend and my youth pastor's wife and they were all for it. I emailed Pr Greg and he was for it. Actually I received his "yes" email in my car one day during lunch at work and FREAKED out. I cried and knew that The Lord had so much greater for me than I could have ever planned.
I told my work and they were hugely supportive (although it did mean turning in my five month notice.) And my friends and family are all behind me 100%. I couldn't ask for more. I am so glad that I followed the will of The Lord and am walking in His calling, not my own.
So I'm going to Africa. And it's going to be the start of something that I can only imagine.
Monday, July 21, 2014
Friday, July 18, 2014
Two Weeks WHAT?!
Dear heavens this time in two weeks I will be on a plane heading to South Africa. Well, first New York. And then Dubai. And THEN South Africa. After 36 hours of travel. =/
But I'm going with my mom and one of my close friends!! I'm beyond excited to be going with Jessica Seigler, one of the friends whose heart beats to a similar rhythm as mine.
Ok so, probably the reason that y'all are returning to read this, is to get part 2 of yesterday's cliff-hanger. (Did you like that?) ;)
So let's see, at the end of yesterday's blog I was talking about God telling me I was going to be a missionary.
After school that day I remember going home and telling my mom and dad about what Jesus had told me. And since this was an international bible college, there was a man visiting my parents who was from somewhere in Africa. (Don't ask me where. I have no clue.)
Once I told them the story, I remember him turning to me and inviting me to visit him in Africa when I got older. (I should probably figure out where that is, come to think of it ...)
There it was. My first invitation to Africa. And I was pretty intrigued by that.
A few years later my family was living in Atlanta and ministering at a church there. A family from Kenya was there and I just took to them. Pr. Shahasi taught me some swahili and invited me to visit him in Kenya.
And the second invitation.
Zachariah Shahasi has an orphanage, school, and church near Nairobi. He went with our pastor from the church to scope out and buy the land, and they returned with vials of dirt from the property. They set up the vials and anyone who gave to the church plant was able to take a vial with them. The only other stipulation to taking the vial was that we one day also visit Kenya and bring the vial with us, pouring out the dirt on the land that it came from.
I have kept that dirt for years as the physical promise from God that I will one day go to Africa. But even though I had an invitation to two different countries, there was not anywhere that was really tugging on my heart.
And then last April, South Africa squirmed its way into my heart and I have not been able to shake it. I have woken up every morning since then, wishing I was in South Africa. And in two weeks, I will be.
God is so good.
And for the rest of the story ... tune in tomorrow. =)
But I'm going with my mom and one of my close friends!! I'm beyond excited to be going with Jessica Seigler, one of the friends whose heart beats to a similar rhythm as mine.
Ok so, probably the reason that y'all are returning to read this, is to get part 2 of yesterday's cliff-hanger. (Did you like that?) ;)
So let's see, at the end of yesterday's blog I was talking about God telling me I was going to be a missionary.
After school that day I remember going home and telling my mom and dad about what Jesus had told me. And since this was an international bible college, there was a man visiting my parents who was from somewhere in Africa. (Don't ask me where. I have no clue.)
Once I told them the story, I remember him turning to me and inviting me to visit him in Africa when I got older. (I should probably figure out where that is, come to think of it ...)
There it was. My first invitation to Africa. And I was pretty intrigued by that.
A few years later my family was living in Atlanta and ministering at a church there. A family from Kenya was there and I just took to them. Pr. Shahasi taught me some swahili and invited me to visit him in Kenya.
And the second invitation.
Zachariah Shahasi has an orphanage, school, and church near Nairobi. He went with our pastor from the church to scope out and buy the land, and they returned with vials of dirt from the property. They set up the vials and anyone who gave to the church plant was able to take a vial with them. The only other stipulation to taking the vial was that we one day also visit Kenya and bring the vial with us, pouring out the dirt on the land that it came from.
I have kept that dirt for years as the physical promise from God that I will one day go to Africa. But even though I had an invitation to two different countries, there was not anywhere that was really tugging on my heart.
And then last April, South Africa squirmed its way into my heart and I have not been able to shake it. I have woken up every morning since then, wishing I was in South Africa. And in two weeks, I will be.
God is so good.
And for the rest of the story ... tune in tomorrow. =)
Thursday, July 17, 2014
T minus 15 days
I have tried to write this blog countless times.
I have tried putting different words together in an effort to communicate my excitement, but have discovered that it is impossible to really make you feel what I feel.
So I will just let it be known:
I'm going to South Africa in 15 days.
If you're my friend you've probably seen the bajillion posts (is that a word? Because I swear I've said it since I was probably two.) I've had about my Go Fund Me, praying for me, my excitement over all of the crazy developments, etc. But there is a story which I haven't shared up until now, that I would like to tell you.
It's the story of Africa.
No, not the development of countries, the history of South Africa, or the colonization of Durban (where I am going.) It is my God story of Africa, the place where my heart has longed to be for so long that it's ridiculous.
It's my story of God and Africa.
When I seven years old my family lived in Dallas, Texas at Christ For The Nations Institute. (If any of you have heard my Jonas brothers stories, how I knew their family and was convinced that I was going to one day marry Kevin, that is where this was.) It is a famous bible college attended by people from all over the world. When I was young they had CFNA, which was for the children of the students on campus, and also had student housing which we lived in.
I lived there from the time I was 5-7 years old, and I believe the beginning of my story started when I was around the age of 7.
Because the school was on campus, and my older sister attended the private school as well, we were allowed to walk to school without our parents. There was always a large group of us kids walking in the mornings from the apartments to the school. One day as I was walking I heard
"Erin."
I stopped and looked around, but didn't see anyone in my immediate vicinity. I was walking on the other side of the street from my sister, because she was just too cool for me, and was too far away to be loud enough for the voice that I heard. Since I didn't hear anyone I assumed it was just my imagination and kept walking.
And then I heard it again
"Erin."
I turned around and asked my sister if she had called my name, but of course her answer was somewhere along the lines of "No, of course not! You're lame." Or you know, something along those lines that a big 9 year-old sister says to her little 7 year-old sister. So I shrugged it off and continued walking. Finally I heard it one last time
"Erin."
Now mind you, I'm 7 years old, going to a Christian school, having been practically born on a pew. So at this point in my child-like innocence I finally figure out what's going on and simply look up and respond
"God?" figuring that He is repeating His Samuel story with me.
And He's God, so of course He doesn't disappoint. In response I simply hear
"You're going to be a missionary."
And that's where Africa began.
(tune back in tomorrow for more!)
I have tried putting different words together in an effort to communicate my excitement, but have discovered that it is impossible to really make you feel what I feel.
So I will just let it be known:
I'm going to South Africa in 15 days.
If you're my friend you've probably seen the bajillion posts (is that a word? Because I swear I've said it since I was probably two.) I've had about my Go Fund Me, praying for me, my excitement over all of the crazy developments, etc. But there is a story which I haven't shared up until now, that I would like to tell you.
It's the story of Africa.
No, not the development of countries, the history of South Africa, or the colonization of Durban (where I am going.) It is my God story of Africa, the place where my heart has longed to be for so long that it's ridiculous.
It's my story of God and Africa.
When I seven years old my family lived in Dallas, Texas at Christ For The Nations Institute. (If any of you have heard my Jonas brothers stories, how I knew their family and was convinced that I was going to one day marry Kevin, that is where this was.) It is a famous bible college attended by people from all over the world. When I was young they had CFNA, which was for the children of the students on campus, and also had student housing which we lived in.
I lived there from the time I was 5-7 years old, and I believe the beginning of my story started when I was around the age of 7.
Because the school was on campus, and my older sister attended the private school as well, we were allowed to walk to school without our parents. There was always a large group of us kids walking in the mornings from the apartments to the school. One day as I was walking I heard
"Erin."
I stopped and looked around, but didn't see anyone in my immediate vicinity. I was walking on the other side of the street from my sister, because she was just too cool for me, and was too far away to be loud enough for the voice that I heard. Since I didn't hear anyone I assumed it was just my imagination and kept walking.
And then I heard it again
"Erin."
I turned around and asked my sister if she had called my name, but of course her answer was somewhere along the lines of "No, of course not! You're lame." Or you know, something along those lines that a big 9 year-old sister says to her little 7 year-old sister. So I shrugged it off and continued walking. Finally I heard it one last time
"Erin."
Now mind you, I'm 7 years old, going to a Christian school, having been practically born on a pew. So at this point in my child-like innocence I finally figure out what's going on and simply look up and respond
"God?" figuring that He is repeating His Samuel story with me.
And He's God, so of course He doesn't disappoint. In response I simply hear
"You're going to be a missionary."
And that's where Africa began.
(tune back in tomorrow for more!)
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