Kenya Part II: Where the Heart is

I remember the moment vividly. That night three years ago in Latvia is more clear to me than most nights spent on mission. I had been preaching all week as camp pastor of a small youth camp about 3 hours outside of Riga, it was a Thursday night..."Gospel Night." Being good Baptists, we ensured that at least one night of the week, we rolled out the big gun: Jesus. The plan was to get up there, and as simply as I could, explain the immense love of God and his gift of salvation to us. I remember being very nervous, I remember the time for the message coming....and I remember stepping off the stage 30 minutes later. I don't remember what I said, how I said it, or even if I actually spoke. It was like I blacked out. But I stood at the side of the room looking over the group of teenagers (Many of whom were crying) and I heard the audible voice of God in my head: "You need to be doing this" huh? "You need to be doing this"

The last three years of my life have, to some extent, been an effort to try to figure out what in the world that meant! Do missions? Become a preacher? Stand to the side of every room I'm in? Make teenagers cry? What?!? So as I come home from yet another successful mission trip, I am finding it harder and harder to dismiss the fact that God wants me in missions. I'm not the most talented preacher in the world. I admit that God has given me some game, that is to say I can get up, make a few points and sit down. But, there will be no Carlos Rousselin crusades going on in a town near you. But what He HAS given me is an immense love of serving people. Being in Kenya, specifically in Illmamen, was such a breath of life for me. I felt so much peace there. I felt so much love for the people there.

So the question remains where God wants me to serve. I don't know if I'm ready to answer it, or if He's ready to reveal it. What I do know is that the Holy Spirit chopped off a piece of my heart and buried it somewhere in Kenya. I want to go back. Now.