I don’t know for sure what to write. I will just begin. Yesterday the lady whose house we worked on was standing among us with her baby on her back. She shared from her heart. She was full of hope that God would provide such a blessing for her. Her house was constructed from rough bricks made of mud from the soil. To my eyes, I saw a house that was only a mud wall with holes in it. She saw a mansion that was secure and beautiful. She was so grateful to God for his provisions, for thinking of her among so many others.

She was blessed by the people who came from across the world, away from what is comfortable, and help build her a home. I felt guilty for having so much. We have every comfort that makes our lives effortless. She has to cook outside, sleep on a dirt floor, walk down a steep hill to get water, and then walk back up it. She wears dirty clothes and works hard to provide for her three children. Her husband died recently and she has HIV/AIDS. She lives with a great load, but her heart is thankful for His blessings.

Why am I here?? Is it really to bless her, or was I the one who was blessed? I am different because of her faith in God. Why does she have so little and me so much? I can tell her relationship with God is more than mine. I am jealous of her heart. She is the blessed one. I am only distracted. I want what she has. I want less things and more faith in a god who loves her as much as the Pope. He loves me as much as her, but I get distracted and cannot experience the communion with God in the way he designed it. 

What will it take? To have a loved one die? I hope not, but only God knows what it will take. He does not bring evil or death, but he loves us so much he wants us to let Him comfort us, bless us, give to us out of His grace not because we deserve it, but just because he created us. I will pray to be grateful for everything that God provides. I want to ask myself, did I get this because of selfish desire or because God wants it for me? What good will come from this? Will it glorify God or make me hungry for more?

Charlene Goodnight

Being on a mission trip it’s easy to either forget about your loved ones or miss them so much you are not much good on the trip. You start calling the sponsored child “my” girl or boy. But that’s not what it’s about. Sure, I’ve been taking pictures with them so my husband at home knows I was actually here in Africa (wow am I really here???), but I think until today it never really hit home how much of a shared experience this really is for me, and my husband in particular.

Today is when I missed him the most since I’ve gotten here, so I called. I remember he is living the same, normal life we always live, only without me. Maybe that’s not much of a sacrifice, some might say, but he tells me it is, and I rather believe him.

So, Bobby, on behalf of all these little African kids who wave and hug and stare, thank you. When that perspective is broadened, my immediate family also makes a sacrifice of their mother. Then I’d like to think my extended family shares some in missing me.  They all are who gave me the courage and the backing to be able to make this journey of faith. And everyone who donated or who owns a cookbook shares in this ministry team’s success in the Kingdom of God. You are all the fabric through which the bright colors of the ministry team stands apart.

Marilyn Dickenson