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As a meticulous teenager without a single detail of design for my future, intolerable anxiety propelled me to make a move towards any plan of action for my future. After remembering my mothers demeanor of aspiration as she spoke to me regarding a family friend who is a missionary and doctor who humbly climbs the mountains of Mexico to offer free care to the underprivileged, a career in the mission field was first on my list, although I actually did not believe that somebody as shy and introverted as myself could prosper in that field. Nevertheless, when opportunity surfaced within my churchs youth group to attend a weekend Dallas outreach, I was eager to unite with people of like-passions and to take a step deeper with my relationship with God by putting my faith into action. More concerned about feeling like a total outcast on the trip, I could have never predicted how this weekend outreach would permanently impact my life. It was in a crowded bus station downtown Dallas, where I discovered my aspiration to become a missionary.
The church met early on a Friday morning to fill the vans with suitcases, Bibles, and hyper adolescents. Most of the kids were very close knit to each other, and I was the only one who wasnt loudly singing songs that I never heard of or talking about people that I have never gotten to know. Rather, I was too busy combatting uneasiness and fear which told me that I was not needed or wanted on the trip. I spent the trip in prayer, asking God for forgiveness for going on the trip because, seeing that I was different than everyone else, I thought that it was not meant to be, or asking for God to reveal to me if this was what He wanted from me.
Upon our arrival at YWAM, we immediately got to work. Our first mission project was, together with the YWAM staff, organizing a neighborhood block party at a nearby park for children and family to have fun, hear the gospel, and worship. I worked with a face paint on the table and a brush in my hand, when a Guatemalan woman who worked at the church, we were staying at approached me. Upon seeing me, she said that she could see how I was different. She revealed to me this truth that God does not make mistakes. And this is how he made me. And I should not want to be more outgoing because God created me to be more reserved. God makes people different so that He may use them in different ways. Your personality is perfect for the plan that God has for you. This touched me because I had always thought that I was not meant to be a missionary because I didnt have a super outgoing personality like all of the kids in my youth group. This made me feel like I could become a missionary.
Filled with confidence from the womans speech in the park, I was able to minister with confidence in who I am and how I can be used to be a light in the darkness. And additional activity involved my prayer tea, and I going downtown, handing free water-bottles on them and offering prayer. This was a really personal experience as we were able to be personal by asking to pray with people one on one. I however once again faced opposition as a young woman in a dark corner of downtown Dallas at 9:00 at night. Self-doubt once again began to hit me as I doubted my ability to do be productive to anyone as I wasnt able to pray with anyone without a male leader with me. But those fears were subsided when I met a woman of so much tears and hopelessness. And while we talked to her, I can recall hearing other men crying hate towards that woman in the background. But this one was able to open up to me as a woman and cry on my shoulder. I had the opportunity to show the love of God to her, when she desperately needed it.
We were just about to head back to the church when I spotted a man in a wheel chair whom I wanted to pray for. As he drove further away, and time was an obstacle for me, I almost lost all hope of speaking to him. But suddenly the wind blew. And the wind blew the mans hat straight in my direction, so I ran to grab the hat to hand it to him and offer him a blessing and prayer. I realized then when he didnt grab the hat that he was an older quadriplegic, homeless man. Upon seeing him I couldnt understand how he survived in the streets. He gave me a genuine smile as he thanked me and asked me to put his hat in his bag along with the water bottle, I gave him. When I offered to pray for him, he gladly accepted. After my prayer with him, he revealed to me his strength. He told me about how God is good in everything that he does. And in allowing him to have quadriplegia, He knew what He was doing. The man had the most beautiful heart and such strong of faith. He then referenced the book of Hebrews in the Christian Bible concerning people throughout the Bible who had faith in their God and trusted in him despite the appearance of the situation, These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar . This intimate moment humbled me to think that this man, could be paralyzed in all of his limbs, homeless, and yet so confident in the will of God for His life and the promises that He has in store for him, who am I to complain about the personality that God has created me with and with the feeling that Im not good enough or not fit to be who God would want me to be.
I had experienced a rare joy on the mission trip. I hadnt realized the great effect that it had on my life until I returned home. I was exploding with joy that I had not realized I had stored up inside of me for this trip and so much I had learned that I was exuberant to right down. The weekend trip seemed days longer considering how early we awoke and immediately began our productivity. The incredibly positive outcomes of the trip of being able to confidently spread the love of Jesus, worship in public, with people, and have random strangers open up to receive prayer. It was in the bus station where I realized that if I offered anybody the hope of prayer, most people would take that light of hope, because we live in a dark world of discouragement and hate and sorrow and pain and tears. People everywhere are living in darkness, longing for a light, but nobody offers. Nobody loves them. Sitting on the metal benches, awaiting their ride, the sit and stare at the cars passing by but into their own world as they are lost in thought dreaming about a family member that is passed, or the sickness of child, the loss of a parent, the downfall of a job, a couple thoughtless spoken words, the betrayal of a spouse, or the expression of pity from a doctor. I knew I had wanted to serve people in some way to express my great love for them. I didnt think that I was fit to be a missionary, but the joy that came from my mission trip, changed my life forever. I was mentally separated most of the time from my peers, but the joy that came from making people smile through sharing the glory of God superseded any doubts. I realized how wrong I had been my whole life in vanities, as I experienced a peace greater than anything else that the world had to offer. I was hooked. After years of searching, I found my purpose.
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