Girl on a Mission

There are very few words that can get my attention no matter what is going on. A couple of them being "church", "worship", "racism", "MARGIE!!!", and "Africa". Although, I do love all those topics (save my name being shouted, that could potentially mean trouble), the topic of Africa is one of my favorites.

A friend of mine just came back from a trip to Ethiopia. I would have done nearly anything to have been able to have gone. They went with a group sixty-seven people consisting mostly of dentists, but there were a few other doctors that went too, and a group of Toms shoes distributers.

Another friend of mine visits Kenya quite frequently. She actually took a group of students from Mariners with her last summer.

I am just dying to go on a trip like either one (or both) of these! Why? Well, I have a few reasons.

One, my precious sister Ray Ray is from Ethiopia. I, sadly, did not go when my parents went to pick her up, but would love to go to the orphanage she was in. The orphanage is just outside Addis Abba, the capital of Ethiopia. I would love to go serve at the (or any, for that matter) orphanage; cooking, cleaning, playing with kids, basically doing whatever I could to be helpful.

Two, there are so many things about this country that I am almost rediculously passionate about. A few of those include racism and human trafficking. There may be nothing more upsetting to me than either of those things.

Three, I love being a servant. I just love being able to help those who need it. I've been down to the Door of Faith Orphanage in Mexico twice and it is just amazing to be able to do manual work in service. Building a nursery; cooking pizza or pancakes for the kids; playing with the kids; praying for people in the surrounding area; removing branches, bark, and leaves that may be a fire hazard; and playing soccer with the kids is just so fun for me. Not only is it fun, it also opens my eyes to the need in third world countries.

As an OC kid, I could very easily say that I've been spoiled. I sometimes complain that I don't have the new Francine Rivers book, or my driver license, or a car, or that perfect grade, or a Mac, but I have never complained about not eating for days at a time. I still live at home; I did not move out on the streets at age seven because my parents did not have the money for food. I don't have to sell myself to get maybe just a little bit of money for a tiny bit of food; I just have to open my pantry and I have my pick of food. I have mutiple pairs of shoes instead of maybe one pair IF I'm lucky that may not even fit me. If I want a drink, I can walk five steps to my fridge, or to my sink, or the hose; I don't have to spend the whole day walking for miles upon miles just for one small jar of water only to do it again tomorrow.

Four, I have always been passionate about anything related to Africa at all. Even pre-Ray Ray. Why? I have no idea, but I always have.

So what do I do about this want-no, scratch that-need to go to Africa?

I go.

Pretty simple, right?

Nope. Wrong. DEAD wrong.

Unfortunately, I don't have a spare $5,000 layin' around. I don't have even a spare $100. (College, you see, seems to be a smidgy pricey. Someone should say something.) I have one, maybe two, potential opportunities to go to either Ethiopia or Kenya this coming summer.

The ONLY way I can go is if God practically hands me five grand. This means TONS of fund-raisers, donation letters, and other such things. But I'm ready. I'm on a mission. Africa is calling. I'm going.