As I begin to write this, I wish I could just sigh, and sit
down across from you with a cup of coffee. This is probably the hardest post
I've had to write since being in Africa.
On April 4th, one of my teammates passed away in
a car accident here in Port Elizabeth. Sarah Buller was riding in a car with 2
of my other teammates and a South African friend when a tire on the car popped
and the car rolled. The other three escaped with some bumps and bruises, but
Sarah did not make it.
Sarah was an incredibly sweet 18 year old from a small town
in Minnesota. She was the oldest of 9 kids. She loved the Lord and she had a
joyful spirit that rubbed off on everyone around her. And we miss her with an
ache.
As you can imagine, this loss left a big hole in our team,
our house and our hearts. For many of us, this was our first experience dealing
with a tragedy like this. The week following her death held a lot of crying,
questioning, mourning, anger, and stress with figuring out all of the
logistical details concerning the accident. A memorial was held at the church
on the following Wednesday.
A week later, 3 of our teammates went home, for various
reasons, and the rest of us left for Cape Town for a few days, in order to rest
and process the events of the last week.
I could write several pages detailing the emotional roller
coaster we were on throughout this ordeal. I experienced anger, hurt, confusion, sadness, discouragement and
frustration, to name a few. I didn't want to talk to God, and even in the
moments when I wanted to pray, I didn't know what to say. My teammates felt the
same way. Once again, God was teaching me that I don't have all the answers and
that I don't understand His ways.
In the last few weeks I have learned (or re-learned) several
lessons. I am still figuring out how to make sense of everything. I was
reminded of the sweetness of praising God through tears. I saw the importance
of the body of Christ-because when I had no words, the prayers of others
strengthened me as they held my hand and prayed for me. I saw my faith tested,
as I had to choose between joy and discouragement, love and selfishness, and
perseverance and wavering in the midst of this trial. It has been a battle to
keep my heart soft through it all. In my selfishness, I wanted to put up walls
and turn off these emotions. I didn't want to talk about it or listen to
others. But I knew in my heart that healing comes from reaching out and dealing
with whatever emotions come from inside me or the people around me. I needed my
community in order to get through this. So things got messy, as we held each
other and cried, listened to each other as we talked about our anger and
frustration, prayed for and with each other, sat in silence in our seemingly
empty house, and just walked through it all together. It hasn't been easy. And
we are all learning what it means to be broken and humbled before a sovereign
and good God, in the midst of a situation that we can't comprehend.
Although the "program" doesn't officially end until May 13th,
we felt it would be best for the team to go ahead and get back to the states a
little early to allow more time for healing and rest and to process everything
that has happened. Our time here was coming to a close, and our hearts are
pretty tired.
Well, thanks for listening. These paragraphs seem like a
pretty cold way to communicate the things that have been going on inside me.
But that's where I am. Still hurting, still tired, but hopeful and thankful for
the lessons God has been pounding into my heart.
Psalm 27 has been speaking to me the last couple of days...I
won't write it all out here but it's always a good one to go back and read:
The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid?
...Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear;
Though war arise against me, yet I will be confident.
...And now my head shall be lifted up above my enemies all
around me,
and I will offer in His tent sacrifices with shouts of joy;
I will sing and make melody to the Lord.
...I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living!
Wait for the Lord, be strong and let your heart take
courage; wait for the Lord!
The countdown has begun: we have only 48 days left in
Africa. It's hard to believe I've been here for 7 months. The remainder of our
time here is going to fly by. The first week in April is our Spring (fall?)
break. After that we have two weeks of ministry, and the last week in April our
team is planning on doing an AIDS awareness outreach in Lesotho (a small
country within the border of South Africa). Then we have a week of debrief (a
time to for our team to reflect on all we've been through) and a few days to
pack up and move out before we get on the plane!
It is bittersweet to think about leaving this place. On one
hand I am SO excited to go home and spend time with the people I love, and I
can't wait to hop in my car and visit my old friends Chick-fil-A, Panera, and
Target! But on the other hand, it makes me sad because I know that when I leave
this place, a piece of my heart will stay here.
So, I thought I'd dedicate this post to some of the things I
love and/or will miss about this place**...
1)Little black girls playing with my hair
2)Making up conversations in my head when I hear people talking
in Afrikaans or Xhosa
3)Being near the ocean
4)"And how do you find South Africa?"
5)Watching African women tie their babies on their backs with a
towel
6)Walking through the African vendors in Korsten to catch a
taxi, and being the only white people around
7)All of the creative and random conversations we have when we
are bored and sitting around the house
8) Ninja jumps
9)Xhosa kids laughing at me when I try to pronounce Xhosa, or
any other word involving a click
10) Being offered coffee or tea almost everywhere we go!
11) "Youu!?" "Shoh!" "Aye man!" "Heyyy"
12) The African ladies at CCMP affectionately tapping me on my
cheek, stomach, or rear to greet me hello.
13) Dance parties in our room
14) Long-life milk (yes it tastes a little funny, but its super
convenient J)
15) Being reminded of poverty everyday as we pass the shacks in
the township
16) Sleeping next to the window, with the infamous PE breeze as my
air conditioning
17) The variety of musical styles and radio we get to hear in the
taxis: new-age instrumental versions of Celine Dion songs, house music with
thumping bass, really, really bad rap, Xhosa talk radio, African gospel...etc.
18) Hadeda birds (I know, I can't stand them now. But I will
miss their obnoxious cries).
19) Broken fridges, the broken shower door, the broken front door,
broken kitchen appliances, my broken shelf, broken sprinkler heads, and the
smelly cabinet in our room. The way everything falls apart, but we still keep
it together and find a way to laugh about it!
20) Do you know Obama?
But most of all, I love, and will miss, the freedom I have
had during this moment of my life, to pursue God with everything I can, to
experience him in a new culture, with this community, through all the challenges
and hardships, fun and silliness that come with this missionary life. It has
truly been an experience like no other, with lots of unexpected surprises along
the way. And I am thankful.
**If
you didn't understand one of the items on the list above, I'll be happy to
explain it in May, or if you're really curious shoot me an email!
When
I first got to Port Elizabeth, I prayed that during my time here God would
reveal true brokenness to me. When I prayed that, my thoughts were that I would
certainly see brokenness by working at CCMP in the township every day. How can
you miss it in a community plagued with poverty and injustice?
Between
CCMP and Algoa Frail Care, I spend about 25 hours a week in ministry. The rest
of my time is spent with my teammates: morning bible studies, meals, free
nights, church, socializing, large group ministry. Pretty much every waking
hour of the week, I am with some or all of my teammates. Needless to say, you
get to know each other pretty well.
We live in a state of CONSTANT community.
And it is not easy, to say the least. We share chores, cooking responsibility,
and bathroom times (9 girls and 1 bathroom = very difficult). We share clothes,
movies, and music. We've had to adjust to living with people who are messy,
clean, early risers, noisy sleepers, forgetful, moody, quiet, loud, picky
eaters, late-night texters, etc. We've experienced conflict, disunity, and
misunderstanding. We've had to learn what it means to be vulnerable with each
other. We've cried to each other and been mad at each other. We've shared our
life stories with each other and the issues we have at home. My teammates have
come from abusive backgrounds and broken families. As a team, we've been
through A LOT, including rape, physical and verbal abuse, divorce, attempted
suicide, alcoholism, drugs, addictions. You name it, someone on this team has
experienced it.
God
has shown me brokenness. But not in the place I expected to find it the most.
He's shown me brokenness in the people closest to me, the people that I see all
the time. But I didn't want to see it in those people. Its almost easier for me
to go to the township and hear stories of broken lives, because I can leave at
5:00 and forget about it for a while. But when I live with people who have
these kinds of issues, it's hard. There aren't any other words to describe it.
There is no escape. I have to force myself to look it in the face. I can try to
block it out, but it keeps coming up. God forgive me for trying to ignore it!
It makes me angry! I HATE that my friends cry after talking to their families
at home. I HATE that they have self-image problems because of abusive parents.
I HATE that they have problems trusting people because of their past. I don't have
to drive 20 minutes to the township to find broken hearts. All I have to do is
wake up in the morning and look around my room.
And
I want to block it out. Its easier to pretend everything is peachy, because if
I stare this stuff in the face and cry with my friends, I'll realize that I
don't have all the answers either, and my heart will break.
This
is hard. But it is so, so good. There have been few times in my life when my
heart has been broken for a friend. I think I can count them on one hand. But it
is good for me to get out of my own head and my own tiny problems so that I can
focus my energy on the people around me. It is good for me to listen to my
friends and pray for and with them. It is good for me to think about them and
to put myself in their shoes. It is good to sit with them on the floor of our
living room and say "I don't know! I don't have the answers! But lets lean on
the grace of God together".
God's
heart is redemption. His kingdom comes when the bad is made good, the humble
are lifted high, the tears are turned to smiles. But in order to truly realize
how great God's kingdom is, I think we have to identify ourselves with the hard
stuff.
God's
been teaching me a lot about this Kingdom concept since I've been here. Jesus
talks about it a lot. I'm still learning about it. My prayer is that I would
seek it out in every situation. In all the situations where I'd least expect
it, that's probably where it will be found.
"Our
Father in Heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven...."
Last October when I first started going to Algoa Frail Care Center, I met a little girl named Nobesutu. They call her Sutu for short. She is 8 years old and extremely hyper. I'm not sure what her diagnosis is. The left side of her body is weaker than her right side, causing her to walk with a limp and have trouble using her left arm and hand. But she still runs around and plays with the best of them. She is a bundle of energy. The nurses call her the naughty one, because the way she expresses herself, the way she gets attention, is through aggression. She scared the heck out of me the first time I met her, because she shouts words in Xhosa that I don't understand, runs around, slaps, pinches, scratches, and pulls my hair. And she's sneaky. Often we will be sitting or kneeling on the ground engrossed with another patient, and she'll come around from behind, grab a chunk of your hair and pull with a strength you'd expect from a grown man! And we learned to have quick reflexes, because if we lean down to talk to her face to face, it's probable she'll rear back and slap us in the face. I was not fond of that child. However, being around kids for a lot of my life has taught me a few things: how to say "no" firmly, redirection/distraction is babysitter's best friend, and if all else fails, just remember: I am 23 and she is 8.
One day when my ministry partners were all busy happily playing with other kids, I took it upon myself to occupy Sutu, in order to save them from a painful hair-pulling ambush or a surprise slap in the face. I caught hold of her hands, and with all the energy I could muster I started jumping up and down with her, coaxing her to follow suit by saying "jump, jump, jump!". Then I would suddenly stop and kneel down and say "shhh..." and then start jumping again. She thought this was incredibly amusing. And I was pleased that it worked as a distraction and an outlet for her energy. The next time I saw her, she remembered our jumping game and wanted to play some more. I felt victorious. The 23 year old, college grad beats the 8 year old runt.
As time went on my feelings toward this little fireball began to gradually move from dislike, to tolerance, to amusement and enjoyment. My reflexes quickened as I learned when to expect a slap, scratch or hair-pull. I think we both started learning to like each other. I was surprised to find that I could calm her down by simply pulling her into my lap and wrapping my arms around her. She would lean her head on my shoulder and stick her thumb in her mouth like a little angel. This discovery made me realize that this little girl just needs love, like anyone else in the world. (I'm sure parents and/or people that work with kids all the time would have known this instantly!). But it took me holding her and showing her love to realize that love is what she needs. She doesn't have parents to show it to her. She doesn't get the kind of attention most kids get. She craves love with everything in her, and she expresses that desire through aggression.
After this profound discovery I made sure to show her attention every visit to Algoa. Sometimes it's playing and running around, sometimes it's simply following her around making sure she doesn't hurt anyone. We sing songs together and she pulls my hair while I play the guitar. She gets jealous when I play with other kids. She throws tantrums when she doesn't get her way. One day she sat in my lap and fell asleep.
Maybe I'm getting used to her, or maybe she's actually changing, but the aggression seems to be decreasing. I'm writing about Sutu because today at Algoa, I rocked her in my lap while she sucked her thumb. We giggled as I spoke simple Xhosa words and tickled her. And as I looked in her eyes today I saw trust, contentment, and love. I love this little girl, and my heart just broke into pieces for her today.
Being in Africa has taught me so much about love. How important it is to love my teammates, roommates, people who are different from me, my friends and family on the other side of the world, people who make me uncomfortable and people who can't or won't love me back. And how our only hope for remotely being able to attempt the kinds of love I just mentioned is through the overflow of receiving the perfect, intimate, unconditional love from God through Jesus Christ.
I think a big reason my heart broke for Sutu today was because I see myself in her. I'm a stubborn, confused, sometimes mean little girl with a whole lot to learn about love.
Our house in Port Elizabeth has a beautiful view of the ocean in the distance, and often just after it rains, we'll get to see full rainbows stretching across the sky over the water. We saw one just this afternoon. It's stunningly beautiful, and a perfect reminder of the faithful, steadfast love of the Father for his stubborn, wretched, broken children.
Its been an exhausting week! With the end of the taxi strike we were able to get back into the Kwazakhele location and back into ministry at CCMP. But I started coming down with a pretty bad cold on Sunday night, and its taken me all week to get over it. But despite the sickness it was a great week.
We've been finding our place and feeling more comfortable with the programs that happen. So I'll give you a rundown on what our week looks like.
Mondays we have kids club. <The children and youth programs are run by a couple of college-age guys from the community: Mabhele and Andile. These guys are great with the kids, but don't do a lot of planning ahead of time (typical of many college guys!). So often I'll get to the center and they'll ask me if I have any ideas! Luckily, I do plan for situations like this!> So Monday I brought some paint and paintbrushes with me. We played a few games, sang some songs, and talked about how God created each and everyone of us uniquely, that we are all "fearfully and wonderfully made", as the Psalm says. I told them that no one in the world has handprints exactly like theirs. Then we painted the kids hands and had them place their hands on paper, to remember that God made them special :). It was simple and not terribly creative, but the kids liked it.
Tuesdays and Thursdays look very similar. The center runs a soup kitchen for the kids to come and get a meal after school on these days. We come and hang out with the kids, and then set up tables in the hall where kids can come and get help with their homework. Mostly my teammate Matt helps with math and science, and I'll help with English, (and sometimes the easy math!).
Wednesdays we have teen club. Often its the same story as Mondays. I arrive in the early afternoon, and Andile says "Do you have any ideas? Do you want to do the message?". And I, being prepared for this kind of situation, sit down and help them plan. This week we played a couple of games, one that I taught them, one that they taught me.
And we had a discussion about our identity in Christ, using Romans 8. It was a lot of fun. I wasn't sure how it would turn out, but God showed up, as He always does!
On Sundays 3 girls from the team and I teach Sunday School for the kids at the center. That has been an adventures in itself, and might deserve its own blog. But for now suffice it to say that its challenging but a lot of fun!
Also, on Tuesday mornings and Saturday afternoons 2 or 3 of us are continuing to visit Algoa Frail Care, where I went last semester. Its been great to continue those relationships and seeing how God is working there. This Saturday we are bringing some of the teenagers from the church we have been attending with us to meet the kids and see what we do there. I'm excited about the chance to bring these teenagers alongside us as we minister in their community.
So that's what my week looks like. I'm sure there will be many more adventures to tell of before my time is up here!
Some things I would love you to be in prayer for:
Continued safety as we travel and spend time in the township
For relationships to develop with the kids and the youth
That the language barrier would not cause too much difficulty in communication, especially with the kids
That the team would get/stay healthy, and that whatever is going around wouldn't get in the way of our work.
It is ironic that my last post was
about the taxis...because this week, starting on Monday, the taxis in PE went on
strike. The drivers weren't happy with recent limitations placed on the taxi
routes by the government and have been refusing to run all week long. Thousands of people in the city
have been affected by the strike this week. Workers and employees can't get to
work, families have lost income, the taxi drivers and other people in the
townships have resorted to violence toward anyone who tries to offer people
rides.
Obviously, this made it difficult
for our team to get to ministries this week. Many of us who would have been in
the townships during the afternoons went to other ministries. It was
frustrating for me, particularly because I was just beginning to get rolling at
CCMP....seeing relationships start to build, feeling more comfortable with the
people, and coming up with new ideas for the different programs. God certainly
has interesting timing. But, despite the inconveniences we felt personally, our
team spent a lot of time praying for the burdens of the people who are really
affected by this: families who have lost an entire week's income, those subject
to violence in their communities, workers who walk for hours and hours just to
make it to work.
Really, it all just shows how
desperately we need to depend on the Lord. One thing I've learned here is how
unpredictable things are. And you either have to learn to go with the flow,
trusting that God knows what He's doing, or get stressed out by trying to force
your plans and ideas. But oh how we love to plan! I think God gets a kick out
of changing our plans though. Well, actually, I'm not sure He does get a kick
out of it. How many times have I made plans, thinking I knew best? And how many
times has He changed them? I think it breaks His heart when we aren't
completely dependent on Him, when we forget to ask Him for guidance and
direction on the big things and the small things. Its as if we're saying
"thanks, but no thanks, I've got this one". When really, He longs to be in such
close relationship with us, walking so closely beside us, that every step is a
conversation with Him, and nothing is done on our own.
Every day this week before we've
headed out to ministry, I've had to pray and pray that I would be open to
whatever God's purpose would be that day. Looking back, I did a lot of random
things this week. I held, fed, played with and got spit up on by adorable
orphan babies, I sorted through piles of donated clothes at a local children's
home (no, I'm pretty sure a 15 year old girl wouldn't wear anything with
shoulder pads), I planned some programs for the kids and teen clubs at CCMP and
remembered how much I love to teach, and I waited for God to show up in the
little things.
"Many are the plans in the mind of
a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand". Proverbs 19:21
We pray that this strike will end
soon, for the sake of those who are severely affected by it. But either way,
may we all joyfully seek God's glory, even if it comes through the shattering
of our earthly plans. And may we all learn the beauty of dependence on our
faithful and loving Father.
After
visiting several different potential ministry sites around PE, we officially
started ministry this week.
I will be working at Combined Christian Ministries to the
Poor in the Kwazakhele township. CCMP is a well-rounded community center that
serves the people in the surrounding community through programs for children,
teenagers, and adults. It operates as a soup kitchen twice a week, offers Bible
studies and life-skills classes, and has a community garden. The center is
directed by a white South African man, Mark, with an inspiring compassion for
the poor and a holy rage at the injustice in his country. I'll be working there
about 15 hours a week.
Transportation to CCMP has been interesting this week. Since
we only have 1 van and 1 car to transport all 12 of us where we need to go
every day, the 2 or 3 of us that go to CCMP take a taxi to the township. We
quickly learned that white people are very seldom found using the taxi system
in South Africa. At first I honestly didn't notice that we were the only white
people in a van full of black people. But after receiving several strange looks
I became painfully aware of my white skin.
The whole taxi process is always eventful. Basically we walk
up to a bunch of white vans in a particular area and tell them where we want to
go. They point us in the direction of the taxi going to our destination. We get
ushered into the van, and wait for it not only be full, but bursting at the
seams, with people. Once the driver decides he can't possibly fit any more
people, we start on our way. Often the taxi is decked out with a pretty decent
sound system, and so we enjoy the latest hip-hop songs, the bass vibrating in
our chests as we speed through the city honking the horn at any and every
possible opportunity. Overall, it's a pretty enjoyable ride. I usually end up
laughing to myself and thinking "What would Mom think if she could see me right
now?".
The thing about a taxi ride like this is: you're just 1 person in a van full of people.
(thank you Captain Obvious). But really, the only things you really share with
these people are a starting and ending location. Everyone has their own lives,
their own problems, their own hurts and worries. Besides the blaring music, and
an occasional argument over prices or seating arrangements, everyone is pretty
silent. People in a taxi don't ask where you're going or where you're coming
from. They don't ask how your day was or how your family is doing. If you're
looking to find personal affirmation on a blue day, I wouldn't recommend a taxi
ride to lift your spirits.
I think inside us all there is a deep longing to be noticed
and known for who we are. There's a fear of being forgotten and a struggle with
pride at the root of it all. So we feel this need to seek our own personal
glory. Some look for it in relationships, job success, popularity, and looks.
Some find it in making good grades or being funny or being a missionary in
Africa. I want to be noticed and appreciated just like anyone else. But, like a
white girl in an African taxi, people will notice me because I stand out, but
in a split second they'll forget about
me and sink into their own thoughts and worries, trying to keep their heads
above water and waiting for someone to take notice. It just doesn't work to
base my identity on anything other than Jesus. My life is hidden with Him, I've
died to myself, and He is my hope of glory. Not only that, but when I stop
trying to stand out on my own, recognizing that I am nothing apart from Him, I
am free to look outside of myself and love the people around me more. Because
its no longer a competition to be noticed, and I have nothing to prove.
Another thing I think about when I'm in a taxi is how much
the people next to me and behind me and in front of me have been through. Most
of them live in the townships, or the location, as they call it, a place where
suffering is all too familiar. I'm such a virgin to suffering. Even after being
here in Africa, I feel like I haven't even gotten a taste of the pain of this
continent. Yes I've met orphans, people with AIDS, people mourning the loss of
family members, parents without jobs and children who've been abandoned and
neglected because they were born different. But at the end of the day I go home
to my warn dinner and comfy bed and forget the cares of this place. I haven't
really tasted suffering.
It may be naïve, but I am praying that God opens my eyes to
more and more of the suffering in this city during these next few months. I
don't want to be blind anymore, and I don't want to be so concerned with
getting glory for myself that I can't love the people around me well.
Over the holiday a few friends and I stayed in Cape Town for a week. Cape Town is one of the biggest cities in South Africa. Located on the coast of the Western Cape, it's a city full of history. Long before the European colonization of South Africa, native Africans had a culture all their own. When the Europeans "discovered" Africa they began imposing their own culture in this foreign land. In Cape Town I was reminded that for centuries South Africa has been ravaged by war and oppression, suffering through the pull and tug of different groups of people who each believe they alone have all the answers. In the 1970's and 80's South Africans decided to stand up for their people. There was a spirit of revolution against the way things had been done for so long. People were no longer satisfied with senseless oppression. There was passion and zeal in the voices that cried out in protest. The result was the end of Apartheid, thankfully.
Port Elizabeth, like Cape Town, has also carried the burdens of this broken country. Rich versus poor, black versus white, my way versus your way. Apartheid is over, but this country still has a long way to go.
I don't really know where I'm going with this. I guess I was just thinking, South Africa's unique history, in some ways, presents a unique challenge to this group of teenagers. Standing up for truth will have to look a little different on this side of the world. But, the truth is still the same, no matter what side of the world you are on. Our world in general has a broken history, beginning way in back in Genesis with the fall. Since then we've been screwing it and ourselves up in millions of different ways. And I know God hates it. God hates the evil in our world and he hates the evil inside us. And it's hard to reconcile that with the fact that He is still sovereign. I guess the thing is, our brokenness has never been outside of His grasp. Our history is a story of redemption.
The Israelites were redeemed from oppressive Egypt. The sins of Joseph's brothers were redeemed by the success of Joseph. The tragic death of Ruth's husband was redeemed by Boaz. The sins of Rahab were redeemed when she risked her life for God's people. The blood of God Himself has washed our screw-ups and the evil in our hearts away. God is in the business of redemption. Even now! A broken relationship provides an opportunity to serve God in Africa. A child from a broken family gets wrapped up in the arms of a new, loving family. A girl involved under the bondage of sex and drugs, falls to the bottom of the pit and lands in the arms of the Savior. It is so beautiful! Only God himself is capable of creating such beauty from such a mess.
So, South Africa, stand up in this generation. Don't settle for less than the beauty of reconciliation and peace and equality. Strive to make it better.
I guess that goes for all of us. Let our eyes be open to the brokenness and our hearts to the certainty that all can and will be redeemed. It's God's business, and we are the vessels He chooses to use to get that business done.
We officially moved to PE yesterday! We are all getting settled in our new house and finding our way around this new place.
I don't have much time to write now, but more to come soon. For now, keep us in your prayers as we begin to figure out our ministries here in PE and as we learn how to live and love in our new, smaller team.
My new mailing address is:
19 Trichardt Street
Port Elizabeth, South Africa 6001
Love and miss you all!
....continued....
We've been in PE for a week now. Our house is pretty much set up, with neighbors and people from the church letting us borrow couches, chairs, a toaster and a washing machine.
Our team is getting along really well. So far its been really nice living in a real house, with a kitchen and couches and everything! We've spent some time getting to know our area and seeing some of the city. It's a lot bigger than Jeffrey's Bay, which is exciting!
On Sunday we attended our host church: Lighthouse Family Church, for the first time. The church has really opened its arms to make us feel welcome. There is a large population of youth and young adults that we will be getting to know during our time here.
This week and next week we will spend a lot of time going around to different ministries sites around PE. This semester we will get to spend more time doing actual ministry, and I am starting to get really excited! We've only been to two ministry sites so far, but both of them seem really great. I love getting to see the vision of passionate people who want to make a difference. It gives me hope!
Anyway, I can't wait to really dig into relationships here. My heart is already getting attached to this place, and I know at the end of this 4 months I will feel like I am just getting started.
I am incredibly thankful for the chance to be here, and the ways God is already moving in this place and in my heart!
