Here we go again... Honduras here we come!!!!

Its that time of year again.... the time of year that gets me more giddy than probably anything else....

Ready for it...

Stop...

its Missions time...

I 'm so excited its not even funny.YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW.

Missions chapel has come and gone along with the leadership interviews. For some reason, I subjected myself to the missions leadership application process. I have been praying for nothing but God's will to be done. If HE wants me to be an ATL (for which I applied for) then that I would get it. If HE doesn't want me to, has something else for me, then that He wouldn't let me get it. 

I got it. I went to my CPO and along with several other Missions leaderships hopefuls and opened my letter. I am officially an ATL, who has no idea where he was going, because that's all the letter states. While I watched those who were accepted laugh and talk excitedly I suddenly got quiet. 

Once again, I'm wondering what I got myself into.

I knew what I was doing when I applied, and I knew what I was subjugating myself to if I was accepted. But now it was for real. Ok. I  can do this. 

If anything I got solemn, knowing that as an ATL my job was to serve my TL (who is awesome woman of God by the way) and the team and the contacts. It is a huge responsibility to take a group of your peers halfway around the world. But I'm excited because I know that God will be leading us, not ourselves.

A couple of nights later I learned what trip I was going on and who I was going to be with. I am with the one and only amazing Stephanie, who helped on many a trip. We are going on the Honduras for one month, but it is not the normal mission trip. 

ORU Missions is launching a sweet section of missions called ID Trips. International Development. I guess I was chosen for one of these trips since my major is international relations. Team Honduras this year will be Micro-finance, helping businesses during the week and doing ministry on the weekends. 

I'm so excited. We not only get to help people with their physical and financial needs, but of course hopefully show them who Jesus is through us. We want to be HIS hands and feet. 

Team Honduras is not Team Uganda. God blessed me with my first amazing trip last year, and now its my time to give back. When I first heard Honduras, I was like, "Ok, a very cliche missions spot but awesome nontheless." I thought this because it seems like every church in the world has gone on a mission trip to Honduras. Its like, in the church missions world, Honduras is like the new Mexico. Everyone and their mom has  gone. I have the personal desire to go to the places that not many people go to, to help the people that don't normally receive aid. 

Then I mentally and spiritually slapped myself. Who was I, in anyway form or fashion, to say where was a good place for people to go or not? God loves the people of Honduras just as much as He loves the people of Australia, just as much as He loves the people of India, Japan, Uganda, Sudan, He loves us all in the same. Who am I to give help anyway? I'm nothing but a broken vessel. No one but someone who is willing to go. 

Now that my heart is right (amen I'm human), Honduras is going to be incredible, full of chances to truly help people and show them the love of Christ. 

Because I'm a missions/travel nerd, I know already random facts about Honduras. Christopher Columbus discovered Honduras on July 30, 1502. He named it Honduras, which means depths, attributing the name to the unnaturally deep waters right off the shore. Honduras has 4 volcanoes, and frequent mild earthquakes (this trip will force me to face the only thing I'm truly afraid of, and yes, its earthquakes, don't judge me). Honduras also has a pretty bad, if not the worst, organized crime network in Latin America. Oh yes, this place will be an adventure. 

I can't wait. If I could, I would pack up my bags and leave tomorrow. But I know right now I'm not ready to go. Not until I got through the Missions Director's favorite word, "Process". 

Yes, that little meaningful word, process. I will go through it. My TL will go through it. Our team will go through it. Every mission team leaving through ORU will go through it. 

Because ORU does it right. We don't meet as strangers, jumping on a plane. We start the preparing for the trip now, in October. Team bonding, team meetings, prayer times, seeking the Lord, prayer vigils and so many other preparations. We learn about our countries, and most importantly, how to serve. 

Because that's really what it is all about. Service. Service to the Lord, and to our fellow human beings. 

We will serve,

so others may live. 

(yes I cheesily used the missions dept. motto.)

I'm out. 

Processing.

Amen.

David

Warthogs and Reflections.

I head back to ORU on the 2nd of August. I am ridiculously excited. It will be an amazing (challenging) year. 

You guessed it. David will be once again talking about Uganda in this blog. You are probably like, "I'm happy for you, and its very nice you went on that trip but..."

Yeah I know. I was only there for a month. Technically some research done somewhere states that it takes months to get over the honeymoon phase when in another country. The 4 stages of culture shock. I definitely had moments when I wanted to be in America, eating cheeseburgers and not being referred to as a Mzungu (white person), but a month was all it took to change my life forever. So yes, this blog will be about Africa, and there is a good chance many more will come. 

On the last day of the trip we spent the day in Kampala (capitol) spending our money like worthless tourists on worthless tourism attractions, which was funny because we weren't tourists. Or, at least I like to think I wasn't. Anyway, prior to Brooke's fall off the concrete ledge which gave her a minor concussion (I swear I've never seen anyone with as bad luck as her...) [But that's ok because I don't believe in luck, but on this trip she certainly did have a series of unfortunate events], I bought a knife.

I bought a knife from Africa. Yes, it was cheaply made, and only sold to American tourists for jacked up prices so they can think they  are awesome because they have a knife from Africa. I bought it for 8,000 shillings. Depending on the ever changing current currency rate, not even $5.00. Did I feel stupid? Yes, but I love it. It sits on my desk in my room, sheathed in its cow hide. When no one is in the room, sometimes I take it out and jab the air with it like a nerd. I'm awesome. 

Just to clarify Brooke was one of my team members who faced many trials on this trip and I am extremely proud of her. Malaria, marriage proposals, dirty Lukayans, a 2 night stay in a Ugandan hospital, and minor concussions could not keep her down.  

During the middle of the trip we went on a safari. My team got a safari lodge to ourselves and we felt beautifully out of place. A shower, a bed, and walls that weren't made out of mud. I felt guilty for having these things but graciously accepted them. We even had a toilet. Before we got to the safari lodge we went on a quick boat tour of the lake, complete with elephants, buffalo, nile crocs, hippos and monitor lizards. On this 2 story boat we saw a sight we weren't used to seeing. White people. We yelled out MZUNGU! Just because it was hilarious. As we boarded the boat I hate to admit that I made a rash and harsh judgement on them before I even heard them speak. I was right though. Our team awkwardly boarded the boat filled with English, Germans, and a bird watching team from Colorado. I looked over to see the Ugandans to my right and I wanted to yell to them, "No, we are not like the rest of them! We just got back from living 2 1/2 weeks off and on in the jungle! We aren't rich European tourists!" I didn't though because I'm not a jerk and also because the rest of the boat would have heard me.

Almost immediately I felt the entire extraordinary experience of my ORU Missions experience was being tainted and invalidated because I was blending in with the rest of the tourist Mzungu. I hated it. Then I realized that I needed to get over myself. This trip was never about me and how "different" my experience in the country was from anyone else's. I was here for Jesus. I was here as a servant to help anyone I could. That thought was enough for me so I rested and enjoyed myself. 

I will take a moment now to inject some of my journal entries that I kept on the trip. 

Wednesday June 4, 2008- On the Road to Fort Portal

Yesterday and today we went to Queen Elizabeth National Park. We went on a boat drive. We saw lots of animals, I loved it but I love to people watch more than anything. I was in a boat with almost all Mzungu's. One team was from the U.S., they were a bird watching team. They were hilarious, they ignored all the great animals for the birds! The rest were Europeans, some Germans and some South Africans. [Right now we sitting in the shade beside a small restaurant waiting for food in a small town. We are about 2 hours away from Fort Portal]. I wanted to know all of their stories. We stayed in a house, the team had the house to ourselves. I loved the house. I would love to live in Africa if I had a house like that. Not real nice but not a hut either. Today we left at 6:30 am to go on a game drive. We saw hyenas, warthogs, herds of elephants and an injured lioness. At the end of the drive was a huge male elephant who came very close to the van. The guide said he likes to charge vehicles. I love the elephants, they look so sad and majestic. They look kind but I know that they are very dangerous.

While we were on our way here we stopped by the equator and there were about 20-25 baboons all around the street and in it. Pastor Israel was throwing bananas at them and one of the baboons screamed because it almost got run over. [I like turtles].

There you have it. A tiny quip of my journal in Africa. Not much and definitely not poetic, I didn't have a lot of writing time on my hands so I wrote in basic thought. When we were at this game park there was the great warthog just laying down outside the restaurant and I was so close to touching it. Its tusks were huge, but the animal only came up to my knees. I'm not saying its not tough, but I am saying that I was definitely calculating the worth and the risk of touching it (it wasn't moving) and it going berserk. I decided it was worth the risk and was so close to touching its rough hide. Alas, I hear "AYE!" and one of the game wardens waving his finger back and forth in the "that's a big no no" kind of way. Oh well. Maybe another day. I just won't get caught. :)

And a Round of Applause for... More Change.

Change. 

Its happens. And that's a fact folks. Yet again my third blog is about change. Probably because its so prevalent in my life right now. 

To be honest I'm just kind of bored. So I'm writing. This will be short. 

(Just you know cool pics will be littered throughout this blog. Prepare for Glory.)

(Fact: I couldn't figure out how to "litter" sweet pics all through the blog, so they are all kind at the top.)

I'm switching majors from Missions to International Relations. All my life I thought I was called to full-time ministry, and for the first time I believe I'm realizing that I'm not. Which is a little intimidating. Now I don't really know what (specifically) I want to do with my life. At the same time, its so exciting. I can do so many other things now. No offense to full time ministry peeps, I'm just realizing its not something I want to do. I know that I want life to be a ridiculous adventure, I want to help people, and live an international life. Oh, and obey God's will and plan for my life. That's definitely on the to do list too. 

I underwent major changes in environment, the constantly busy and never ending spiritually uplifting/social scene that was ORU, to an adrenaline pumping month in Uganda, Africa, and then back to my home town. I'm working at an office. After work I come home to my warm family, and we have a quiet evening. A lot of times its evenings alone. Almost no nightlife. Most of the time its because of my choice not to go anywhere. Not sure why. 

There are many, many more changes going on in my life and in me. I don't understand them. My friends don't understand them. But God understands them. 

The Lord has a plan for my life and He loves me with an undying passion that never dies out. I drown in His sea of mercy, and crave His presence like water. He is good. Beautiful. Wonderful. He's my savior, protector, comforter, rock, everything to me. He's a pretty good listener too. My life goings on seem petty to me, yet He's interested. He cares about the details and knows me by every hair on my head and He knows that I drink Frappucino's in Winter and that I secretly I don't care for David Crowder's music. 

I'm not worried. I hope my friends aren't worried. God sure isn't worried. I'm not becoming a different person, just maturing, adapting, living. Its an awesome thing. 

Guess whose really excited to see the new Batman movie?! I AM!!! Off subject yet still so important. 

Time for David's random strain of thoughts:

 

Aledo's coffee shop's coffee would taste better if they would stop focusing on being a trendy store and started focusing on, coffee. 

I want to learn Krav Maga (Israeli Self-Defense) so bad. Its wicked awesome.

Nancy Pelosi is a fool.

Drill ANWR. I like gas. We'll deal with the seals later. 

I love ORU Worship. I listen to it. A lot. Guess that makes me a Chapel nerd. 

I memorize Dean Boyd's sayings, and then repeat them in my head or aloud because they are awesome. Kind of.

I made friends with too many seniors. Now they are all gone. Except the cool ones who decided on going to Grad School. Go you!!!

I like kittens when they are kittens but when they grow older I get bored with them and want a dog instead.

I'm going to bed. 

There you have. Random thoughts of the day and past few. Not politically correct. True? Mostly.

Goodnight whoever you are, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Changes of Perspective

So I am starting a little over my 3rd week in America after spending a month in Uganda, Africa on an ORU Missions Trip. 

A part of me feels like it never happened, then another part of me feels like it was just yesterday, and then a part of me is still there. That sentence makes me look like a crazy schizo, but coming back to America even after being only being gone a month is culture shock, and in ways a much harder culture shock to deal with. 

This was my first mission trip. My entire life (not kidding, entire life), I have dreamed of going to Africa on a mission trip. Or simply going somewhere out of the U.S. on a mission trip.  I remember in elementary I would verbally abuse the Missionary kids in my church because I was burning with jealousy with the life that they got to live. I was stuck being content with playing in my backyard for kicks while I had to hear them complain about how they have to go Indonesia and how that place wasn't nearly much fun as Jakarta and bla, bla, blah. Of course now I realize that they had difficult lives and often struggle for a sense of identity, and while I wanted to be anything but normal, it was all they desired. Either way they still got a mouthful from me, and I probably didn't help them very in there self-identification processes when we were all children. Not proud of that. (Some of them did have it coming though, just being honest! :)

In high school I had my hopes broken every summer, my church or some other organization would print out their flyers or people would be telling me about the short term mission trip that were  going on that summer. I'd sign up for the programs, and get all excited by hearing my friends tell their stories and I would pray and pray and pray. Then I would spend a day and half mentally planning and preparing myself how I was going to break down the plan to my parents and every year it was the same. We don't have the time or money. Not hatin on my parents in the least, because it was true. Of course, though, me being an awesome teenager who knew everything I would "show them", I would prove them wrong! I don't need their help! I'll make the money myself! I laugh at myself now because I realized I was trying to go on "mission" trips out of spite.

Anyway the background is to let the reader understand how incredibly excited I was to go to Uganda. Because I waited and was respectful to my parents, I believe I got a double portion of blessing on this trip for me. I was placed in an amazing country in Africa (remember, my dream place), placed on an amazing team who I see no less than family now, and God moved so much there. God moved in me, the team, the contacts, it was incredible. I put my whole heart into this trip, into these people, into my team, most importantly to God.

And now its over. Like that. Its like, "Have the experience of your life David! Ok, its over, now, go lead a normal life and get a summer job!" Reality set in about 2 days ago. I'm back in America, and now my focus is on God, my family, my job, my friends, until I get to go back to ORU. I still can't believe its over. Its fun to tell people about it, but they don't get it. No offense, but if you have never gone to Uganda, Africa on a mission trip, you don't get it. Its not a bad thing, just a fact. I now understand in a tiny, miniscule way how hard it was on the missionary kids when I was little. They had amazing experiences and stories to tell (whether they wanted to have them or not), but no one would give them the time of day, or the others just couldn't understand. I saw amazing things in Uganda. I did amazing things in Uganda. Uganda was amazing. God is amazing. Amen. 

And what am I doing now? Working at an office for the summer. God blessed me with a great job with amazing people. Sometimes I think to myself, I'm standing at a copy machine but less than a couple weeks ago I was praying for the hurting in Africa, and climbing mountains going to remote villages. How can life go back to normal? Why would I want it to go back to normal? Then I get a reality check. God honored me by letting me go. Now its my turn to honor Him with where He placed me for the rest of the summer. There are definitely hurting people in Texas. Too many. God can move in Texas just as much as He can in Africa. Every where I am is a mission field. From a simple encouragement to leading people to Christ, doing my part everywhere I am and obeying the voice of the Lord will help me process the trip, and continue to grow spiritually in America.

I do notice somethings have changed about me. I think I'm quieter.  I haven't got quite as much to say. Or I'm just learning that I don't need to say everything. I find myself not really wanting to go out as much, a quiet night with the family is fine. I'm more sensitive to the world. I saw a movie the other day that I would normally love, hated it. Senseless violence is, well, senseless. I I can't really enjoy secular music too much anymore. I'd rather listen to worship. (Amen for ORU Worship on the IPOD!) Not that there is wrong with secular music, and 300 rocked most guys' world. Just not now. 

All I know is that I'll dutifully serve where God has called me to be, at the same time I can't wait until ORU. 

Also,

I'm addicted. To missions. To traveling. To layovers. Most importantly, addicted to witnessing people being set free all over the world. 

First Blog. Very Short.

This is my first blog on this blogger thing. 

I never know if anyone will ever reads this blog and the blogs to come. That's ok. Speaking through the air. 

Right now I'm at my old youth group. I just finished my first year of college at Oral Roberts University, and 2 weeks ago got back from my first mission trip to Uganda, Africa through ORU Missions. It was a month long. Wish it was longer. :)

Its weird coming back to America after living in a 3rd world country for month. And its super really weird coming back to visit your old youth group that you grew up in, and you realize everything has changed. That's ok. Change is good. I love change. And coin change. You can buy sodas with that. I like sodas. Maybe too much. 

Anyway so I'm spending the rest of the summer here in my hometown in Texas. Until August. Can't wait to go back to ORU. But I know that God has opportunities for me here, to grow and who knows, do something useful. Maybe. I have to be in the mood to do something useful. Lol not really. Kinda. No I love being useful. Maybe too much. Love has been made such a cheap word. "I love soda, I love the sky, I love ants, I love the dollar menu at Mcdonalds, I love this person I just met and don't know anything about." Love is should and is a very powerful word. Love describes things like, when God loved sinful humans so much, that He sent His one and only Son (whom He loved very much), to die on the cross in place for  every single persons sin that ever lived and ever will lived. That's a worthy example of love. Extremely fond feelings towards flipflops, does not. Just to clarify, I like flipflops but prefer steel toed boots. I feel safe in them. :)