I've always wanted to travel the world. 

In my short 25 years, I've had the wonderful opportunity to explore just a sliver of it.

I've realized that alone is not enough, so my life is about to drastically change...

Let me back up a little and explain a few things first...

    What do you want to be when you grow up?

When I was between five to eight years old, I attended church programs called "Mission Friends" and "GA's" (aka, Girls in Action), which essentially focused on missionaries and their lives. It was an influential part of my childhood, and I still have very fond memories of those programs.

I loved hearing about the underground churches in China, the different customs in India, and the families who were willing to leave their homes behind to go share the gospel with people in strange, new places. Frankly, to my 5-8 year old mind, these missionaries sounded like superheroes! After all, they were willing to give up everything to help save people from spiritual death! Isn't that essentially what a superhero does?

All that to say, whenever people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, instead of saying "a veterinarian" or "an astronaut," I always said...

"I'm going to be a missionary."

As you can imagine, the grown-ups in our church giggled and smiled at this, finding it 'charming' and 'cute' that I seemed so sure of myself and had no doubts in what I wanted to do. But at that time, I really didn't have any doubts. Those came later.

    Living it out

As time went on, I lost that passion for missions and that blind, childlike faith I had in God's plan for me. I stopped saying I wanted to be a missionary, and I tried to focus on "real jobs."

During the next several years, my love for literature and writing grew, and I began to tell people that I wanted to be a writer and an author.

When I was 15, my entire family felt the LORD calling us to move to Kenya, Africa as missionaries. Doing our best to remain faithful, we answered 'yes, Lord,' and followed through. However, it was this process that showed me that missionaries are not super-humans, they aren't otherworldly, and they aren't any closer to God than anyone else--they're all human. Because I was human.

And a deep yearning for travel, visiting new places, and hearing new languages began to take hold.

My family eventually relocated back to our home in Texas, but some of me never fully returned home. It was as if there was something missing where I didn't feel anything missing before.

I shared with my pastor once that I felt like I would never feel "at home" ever again. I struggled with staying in one place for long periods of time, I struggled to allow myself to put down roots, and I always felt like I was waiting for something new to come along. 

He reminded me that, as children of God, we are never really home until we are in heaven with our Father; our entire lives are spent wandering and spreading the good news until He calls us Home.

I never forgot that conversation.

    Am I a grown-up now?

I eventually went to college to study English language and literature, with the goal of becoming an editor at one of the "Big Five" publishing houses. I was trying my best to keep my eyes focused on what was directly in front of me. I'm an extremely goal-oriented person, so making it to the "finish line" of my education helped me to stay grounded and not feel my sense of "wandering" too greatly. 

During the latter half of my time in college, I pushed myself to encourage, share, and minister to my classmates as much as I could. I learned how to become a prayer-warrior and went to battle on a daily basis for many of my friends. Eventually, I saw some fruit from it, and a dear friend of mine ended up rededicating her life to the Lord. 

I finally felt some sense of fulfillment. 

But something was still missing.

And when I finally graduated college, I suddenly felt... empty. The people I was ministering to on an almost daily basis were out of reach. I didn't have a goal anymore. And I was afraid of the quiet that seemed to creep up on me whenever I sat still for too long.

So I threw myself into my next goal--getting a job.

I job hunted and ended up landing a great job. I started working and began throwing myself into my work, trying to become the best I could possibly be. I was growing and improving. I was meeting my goals.

But even then, something was still missing--and it frustrated me.

And in the midst of all of this turmoil... I got sick (with The Virus™), and it forced me to have some down-time, finally stop running around like a crazy-lady, and be quiet. And a lot of reflection happened during that down-time. Looking back, I believe getting sick was a strange sort of blessing, because I believe the LORD used that time to catch my attention.

Not long after my recovery, our entire office had a week off, and I don't know how else to explain it, but the LORD caught me that week. It was like I finally gave in to God and let Him speak to me after running away for so long, trying to make things work out on my own. 

And of all the things He could have said or shown me, He reminded of the little 5-8 year old girl who went around telling people that she wanted to be a missionary when she grew up.

I had tried to make things work myself. I tried to create a normal life for myself (but what even is normal anyway?). I went to college, I graduated with honors, I landed an excellent job for someone fresh out of college, I excelled in my workplace, and I was trying to make myself fit. And I did fit in very well.

But that wasn't what He had in store for me.

MercyShips had a position open for a Writer. As I read over the description, tears began to stream down my face because it was like they were describing me. And not just one part of me, but several primary pieces of who I am and what I love. I told my parents that it was like God combined my love of writing and travel and His love for people and created a place for me.

I applied to MercyShips that week, and it's been a whirlwind ever since. I've visited with several people who have worked with MercyShips, I've asked a million questions, I've filled out a ton of paperwork... and it's felt so surreal that this is happening.

    So what now?

I am now on the waiting list for a placement with MercyShips.

That has been the hardest part... the waiting. Learning to be patient. Finding joy in the quiet. Having faith that He is still working even when I can't see it. 

I don't know when I will be leaving. I don't know where I will be going. But I do know that God is always good and that He has a plan for me. 

If you would like to follow me on my journey, you're welcome to follow this blog or follow me on any social media sites. I'm looking forward to sharing my story.

https://www.mercyships.org/