More Plot Developments than an episode of "24", a Recap of Summer Missions... Part II.

Do you want to know what is NOT fun for an traveling team of 7 student and 1 professor? An 8 hour layover in the Chicago International Airport. Just trust me on this one.

Disclaimer: Please don't show this blog to my English 101 professor, Mr. Gogan. I haven't had to take his class since freshman year, but I know he would judge me for all of my erratic, grammatical, sins.

So back to the story, yes, we had an 8 hour layover in Chicago. No, we did not leave the airport. However it provided good sleeping time since we left our university to head to the airport at 4:00 am.

Our next flight was destined for Frankfurt and then to Shamasbad International Airport in Hyderabad, India. I'm feeling good. Over half the team is sleeping, the other India team had the same itinerary so would get to travel with them (they were a ministry team, and we loved them very much), and I have my old TL's satchel bag which I have affectionately named, "The Jungle Bag". The rest of my team has called it a glorified fanny pack but what do they know? Its a jungle bag. God has done amazing things in our team in just one week and I'm loving it. Of course, I'm sure God will have much more to do in the personal lives of the team and myself, but amen, we will cross that bridge when we come to it.

Honestly though, I felt exhausted already. Sophomore year had been a difficult one. I'm always in this Kung Fu fight with one of my biggest flaws, which is getting over excited about anything and signing myself up to do everything. My fall semester I was a chaplain, an ATL, the news editor for the Oracle (campus newspaper), a student worker, and taking 18 hours, and maintaining a social life. Yeah, I almost died. Not really, but I felt like it. Spring semester was much better after I quit my job at the Oracle, but still the only commitment I let go of. Then BAM! Finals. BAM! Seniors graduate. BAM! Ropes Course. BAM! Then next thing I know I'm boarding a flight to Frankfurt and still trying to get my bearings. This is where that whole depending on Jesus thing kicks in.

I guess all this exhaustion makes me extra clumsy.

Ever since I was a little boy my mom told me I was a bull in a China closet. Now I'm no graceful, little, butterfly but I did not necessarily agree with such an outrageous accusation. Notice that I wrote, "did". The flight from Frankfurt to India was average and calm. Comfy seats? Check. Seat belts buckled? Check. Tasty airline food? Check. Huge German women flight attendants? Check. Getting some shut eye? Check. Elderly woman falling over backwards and having a seizure right next to me? Check. Wait.....

All my life, quirky little adventures have followed me wherever I go. Hilarious circumstances as well. Also some not so hilarious circumstances. I just always have strange experiences. I get handed my deck of cards and I attempt to play them the best I can. However, I seem to end up with injuring myself and on more rare occasions, other people.

Elderly European women falls over backwards, begins having a seizure, in the middle of the walkway. I don't know if this is a European thing, or mode of thinking, but in America, we help people when they are having seizures. On this plane, everyone just stared. I think that occurence was more unsettling than the old woman having a seizure. Now I'm no medical expert but dang it I was going to do something. I stand up, ready for action. Unfortunately I'm in the middle seat. The elderly Indian woman that was sitting next to me was asleep and completely blocking my way to the woman. What happened next was a blur. Facing her, I step over her legs in one great step with my left leg. I then try to swing my right leg over her head to exit the row, but because I'm convinced that God wants something to laugh at, I instead roundhouse kicked her in the face. Hard.

Chuck Norris would have been proud.

This woman looks like her face just got hit by a train. Wow. What a way to wake up. I say I'm sorry and then turn to seizure lady. By the time I bend down and try to grab her legs one of my team members Abby, is already with her and holding her head as this elderly woman starts to throw up. Abby had taken a first aid course and I felt a stab of pride knowing that my team member and I are the only people out of a plane of 300 that tried to help this woman. Score for ORU.

Eventually these huge German flight attendants run toward us screaming, "MOOVE!! GETS OUT OF ZEE VAY!!" I'm tempted to scream out "FLUGEN HAFLEN FLEEGEN LAUFEN", right back at them just to be difficult, but instead I obey. No lie, those women were a little scary.

The women was taken to the back and was fine afterwards, she just needed a lot of rest. Later I would sneak to that section of the plane and see her hooked up to an some sort of oxygen machine. The rest of the flight was uneventful. I apologized to the Indian woman that I had kicked in the face and offered her some Ibuprofen to which she politely declined and absolved me of my violent sin.

Finally we make it to India. After being screened by health officials because of the swine flu, we were greeted by our contact Michelle, an ORU graduate who has been living in India for the past 4 years. Michelle has an incredible servants heart and we leaned on her heavily during our trip while we were still getting our bearings. She was such a blessing. Stepping outside into a mugginess that I have never before felt in my life, we begin our Indian adventure. We were driven to our guest house in a small bus. The house was beautiful. It looked very colonial, two stories, white, with an enormous courtyard in front and back surrounded by large 12ft walls. There is no A/C, for the night, which is perfectly fine with me. I do a perimeter check outside, one of my ATL duties. The courtyard has many tall trees surrounding the walls which blocks any light from the neighborhood (which is like Indian version of Suburbia). I lock the entrance gate and begin to walk the perimeter of the wall. I hear foot steps, like someone is dragging their feet on the concrete, coming toward me. I run to the front of the house to investigate. Dang. I haven't been in India for more than 2 hours and I'm going to get attacked. Perfect. Luckily I have my flashlight which my mom had bought for me. I protested the purchase of such a tiny, yet very powerful and expensive flashlight saying I didn't need it. I silently thank my mom for refusing to listen to me, as there were no lights in the neighborhood since the power had blown out over the whole block. I shine the light, ready for whatever comes. It was just a large leaf of a banana tree, scraping the top of the concret wall in the wind. Fail.

Every country has it's smell. India, for example smells like Uganda, only sweeter. For the record, Uganda smells like burning trash, at least in the cities. I'm not discounting the country's variety of smells, but seriously, they had 12 foot piles of trash which they burned, which equals, the smell of burning trash. Parts of India look like Uganda, but they clearly are not Uganda. Its almost impossible to clarify in words, because it is so much a feeling.

Our first week in Hyderabad consisted of traveling back and forth between the Joyce Meyer Ministries building where our contacts were, hearing many different lectures on Micro-Finance by the top dogs in the micro-credit enterprise. It was such a rare blessing that they chose to grace us with their time.

As we drove throughout the city I'm affected by how little I'm affected by the sights and sounds of poverty and unhappiness that I see. I never want to be numb to such truths, but I cannot have my heart broken every time I open my eyes in a poor district in this country. I still don't think it has hit me that I am in India, I hope it hits me soon.

Hyderabad is a strange mix of poverty and wealthy. As I understand it, Hyderabad is one of the more affluent, large cities in India. I see and walk through buildings that look nicer and more beautiful than any place I've ever been, yet right outside there will be a vacant lot filled with dozens of tents made out of plastic bags.

On Saturday my team headed to a Joyce Meyer feeding center located around 3 hours from the house. Joyce Meyer Ministries had implemented a huge feeding program all over.

God and I were right. Co-leading this trip is one of the hardest things I have ever done. However, the Lord is good, and His mercy endures forever. Before I know it is Sunday and the team and I attend Pearl City Church. The affluent of Hyderabad attend as well as the not so affluent. It was very professional with video screens, sound systems, and comfy stadium seating. I forgot for a second I was in India, I felt moreso that I was attending Victory Church in Tulsa. Hillsong London was touring and was leading worship at this church this morning. Very cool. That night a team member and I attended their concert in an area of the city called Secunderabad. We showed up early and watched them rehearse on a huge stage. When worship started I realized I was surrounded by thousands of Indians, all worshipping God, pouring their hearts out to Him in fervency. The body heat combining with the already energy sapping heat of India is staggering. The concert was free and I'm sure many there did not know why they were. We all worship together, a huge mass of people. It was a powerful experience. Except for the certain locals who trying to scream in my ear to see what I would do, (I've gotten really good at ignoring such things) and being abandoned by our driver for about 15 minutes afterwards, it was a great night.

On May 20th we traveled 3 hours away by bus to a place called Chandrakal, a beautiful orphanage for HIV/Aids positive children. My heart broke for them because though they had such a horrible disease, their joy was so evident. They did not let it bring them down and they were eager to have fun with us as their visitors. Dang. How many times have let myself fall into the depths of self-pity and numbing apathy just because certain situations became "difficult"? I felt pathetic, yet encouraged. These beautiful children have true strength. The team worked great together that day, putting on performances, singing songs, and playing games with them. We ate lunch with them and played an interesting board game called "Charems" with them afterward.

If I'm not careful I fall into thinking such thoughts of defeat. David, you are a naive idealist. What good do you think you are actually doing? For them? For God? For His Kingdom? You come into this hospital and sing songs and play with them. Wow. Great job. Anyone can do that. You will leave, move on with your blessed Western life and these children will still be here. With illness. Your team's presence is so trivial. Even if these kids weren't sick, who cares? You sang songs and played games for one afternoon. No difference is made with that.

I can't believe that. I'm no doctor, I cannot fix these children. I'm not rich, I cannot give them the life of material and physical comfort that so many desire (though they are very blessed and taken care of in this place). I'm a junior in college. Right now, at this point in time, all I can do is go. All I can say is Lord send me. And if singing songs and playing board games on the floor for an afternoon is all I can do right now, then dammit, I'm going to do that.

These children have a blessed life though. As far as I understand it Joyce Meyer Ministries helped put this beautiful home together, and they have loving people to take care of them.

We make the journey to the hospital across the street and pray for people. All I can do is pray that God moves, for them. For every person that reached out to me. I trust God. He is more than enough.

Part 3 is coming soon.

More plot developments than an episode of 24.... Recap of Summer Missions Part I

Wow.

Holy crap.

It has been a very long time since I have posted on this mug. I'm ok with that because I like to pretend I have a life.

Its funny that I'm rediscovering this blogspot at the same time of last summer, 2008. Post missions. Too much time on my hands. So I search the web, hungry for new, petty, social networking sites because there is nothing else to do. Don't judge me.

So tiny confession. I never actually went to Honduras. Funny story actually. Right before the financial deadline my TL decided that she wasn't supposed to lead the team. She was doing what she felt was right and the Lord had different things for her, and I applaud her decision. This happened around February of this year...

So my team of 4 girls and I did our best to survive the day of missions financial reckoning, the 50% deadline. Thank the Lord, a mysterious donor donated to the International Development region in the missions dept. so the teams only have to raise half of the money. Judgment day comes and goes and we have 1 casualty (aka one of the girls finances fell through and she couldn't come. Disclaimer: no one actually died). So now it is me the ATL, no TL, and 3 girls who are thinking they are going to Honduras to learn about micro-finance. Little did we know...

The department in a rush of efficiency madness merges my team with Team Costa Rica Business. A wonderful woman is leading that team as well, someone who became one of my best friends, Kortney. Her ATL is made the TL of a business trip to Africa and I become Kortney's ATL. Already a lot of changes. In the middle of these events, Kortney and I had a meeting with the person who was in charge of our trip. We weren't going to Honduras anymore. We would still be doing micro-finance and learning about it to our hearts content, yet in another country.

Confession time, when I heard this I was more excited than I should have been. I didn't really want to go to Honduras, wait I take that back, I did. Just not exactly too excited to go to one of the most visited countries by missions teams from churches and schools in the world. My heart is for countries that people do not normally go to (the adventurer/discoverer in me is talking right now). So I'm like, hit that missions random button! Lets go somewhere new! Now time for the infamous reality check. This trip is no way about me and what I want in the least. It's about God's kingdom, and His will, for us and for that country. Also, most of my team members heart's might as well have been buried in that Latin American soil. When we told the team that Team Honduras would be joining with Team Costa Rica, and on top of that, we would not be going to would not be going to EITHER countries, we were met with many expressions. Most of them were faces that said, "Are you joking me?" One person other than me was excited about the change. Good for you one person. I'm rooting there right alongside you.

So then the director of missions (amazing woman of God) then informed us to what country we would be traveling to. Literally she said, "Ok! Are you ready, its a little place that starts with a I and ends with an NDIA!"

India.

Awesome. No other word.

Yes, India is visited by many missions organizations and missionaries. Hey, though, we already went over this. Not my will but HIS will be done. Ok.

India.

India is one of those places that always see myself going, but later on. Meaning, let me visit and explore every inch of Africa, and then I'll make my way my way to India when I feel like it. Obviously I would be dead by the time I made my way to India, either through old age because, lets face it, DANG, Africa is a big place. Even if the Lord blessed me with "the quickness", my ability to get myself into trouble would have shown its colors during that time and I would have bit that, rich, red, African dust.

So now I get to go to India, at the ripe age of 20! Perfect. To the team, this is not so perfect. One girl said she would rather go ANYWHERE but India. Honesty rocks. However, she stuck on the team and I'm proud of the sacrifice she made.

So there. We made it past the 50% deadline. And now we were a new team. Kortney and I had the task of getting know each other and our leadership styles in two months, and somehow build a team from the ashes of fiery change.

Jesus help us.

Life goes on. Finals come and go and so does graduation. Now our first big team challenge, Ropes Course 2009.

The Missions Department makes every team go on a one week ropes right before we leave the country. Though many mission teams past and present hate this process with a hatred that could rival the devil himself, I'm glad we have it. It is hated for its stressful atmosphere, an athletics day that makes you feel like you are in bootcamp, high ropes courses that are the worst nightmare of anyone who has a mild fear of heights, low ropes exercises that can break you emotionally, and constant tiredness. Why, you ask, do you like this David? Well friend, I reply, I love it for the challenges, physically, spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. You come out of it a stronger person and I love the worship nights in which God chooses to grace us with His presence. God broke me at Ropes in a powerful way. In many ways. Leading this team was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do in my life. So hard. One night at worship God broke me and I realized that only by leaning on Him I can get through this month.

I'm going to be honest. I hate leadership. Ok, hate is a strong word. Why? Because I'm a tiny bit selfish. I don't like the idea of being in the middle, on the center stage, and people need me directly to lead and serve them. I mean, I like the idea of leadership. If I learned one thing on this trip, it is that leadership has a price. Sometimes that price, is so much. So much that it is an impossible task. You lean and depend on Him for so much. Just to get you through the day. He is good. At ropes I just had to learn, whether it made sense or not, I was the ATL of this trip. Whether the team liked it or not, I was one of their leaders. I knew that God would get me through.

Ropes was rough for our team. We were all working through our own issues, questions, and what not. After 5 days of getting through all the challenges, the night I was waiting for had finally come. Commissioning night.

Commissioning night is when the Tl and ATL of each team pray over their team members and "commission" them. God moved so much this night and through almost every team member we prayed, and prophesied over our team members. It was beautiful. We still have to survive in India for a month together, but for now, seeing the team and all the others praying, completely sold out to the will of the Lord, few things are more beautiful than that.

Before the night is over, a girl who wasn't even involved in the missions programs stops me and pulls me aside. I knew her and have had conversations with her, but it was exactly like we were close enough that we made friendship bracelets for each other if you know what I mean. However, she stops me, and says, "David I just want you to know that I am so excited for you. You have an intense love all attacks from satan on your team are going to break. It will be love, intense love from God that does this. Intense love for the team. God is going to show His love to you in so many new ways." Wow. All I could say was thank you and then she was gone. She barely knew me, I'm pretty sure she didn't know any of my teammates. She knew nothing, including how much what she just said meant to me.

Part II on its ways friends!

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. :)