When I went to Kenya in June, I knew that it wasn't going to be my only trip. There was a tugging in my heart to go back. Even while I was still there. I've been back for over four months and not one day has gone by that I haven't thought about Africa. About the people I met. About the way those children clung to my hands. The unexplained joy amidst the pain when you looked into their eyes. Africa changed me. And from the moment I stepped back on US ground, I knew I'd be going back. I didn't know when. I didn't know how. But I knew that God willing, it would most definitely happen.
A couple weeks ago, I officially signed up to go back in April.
Today, in the midst of an incredibly stressful day, I received our first official email. The email listed details about the trip, most importantly, deadlines for our fundraising efforts. I already knew the total for the trip, but to see the numbers written out like that almost sent me into a panic attack.
Dec 15 - $800
Jan 15 - $800
Feb 15 - $600
Mar 15 - $600
Total - $2600
Wow. Immediately, I thought "There's no way I can get $800 in 44 days."
Then another horrible thought came, "And there's no way I can get $800 more 30 days later, over the holidays."
What horrible timing.
I went to youth a couple hours later stressed out about not having time, not having resources, not being able to pay for my entire trip myself, asking people for money...
Then the band started to play this song.
And it broke me.
You see, this was pretty much our theme song from our trip to Kenya in June.
I felt like it was God's way of saying, "Don't worry. I love you. It's all going to be okay."
So I'm going to try not to worry because I know that I'm not in control.