I thought I had been through some emotional roller coasters in my life before.  However, Volcano Pekeya, Hurricane Agatha and finally the sinkhole in Guatemala City stirred up much emotion among my teammates and traumatized Guatemala in only a matter of five days.

At first it was hard to even think about what was happening to the people of Guatemala, because hey! We were supposed to be there helping.  We were crushed, too!  And for me, that’s when the real roller coaster started inside of me… This isn’t about you, young lady.  God quickly brought me to my new journal designated for this mission.  These were the verses that I had started with that Friday morning before I had even heard about the volcano:  Psalm 143:8.  “Let me hear of your unfailing love each morning, for I am trusting you.  Show me where to walk, for I give myself to You.”  Philippians 2:3.  “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.”

These verses were turning out to have an entirely different meaning, as God typically likes to do!  Though I found peace in knowing that God had saved us from Mother Nature, a whole new hurricane was brewing inside of me as to what this new plan would be…  Yes, that’s right, right here in my hometown!  Someone may find out how much I absolutely do love Jesus.  My one word this year is “words”—imagine that!  I quickly realized that hiding behind the Spanish language in Guatemala just wasn’t going to work here.  God had other plans for our team.  As we got to know one another by sharing and listening to stories about God and life, I became so much more comfortable.  I was able to listen to how they each prayed, and I knew God loved us and saved us so that we may go to Guatemala in His time.

Now, for the matter of seeking God’s will for us in our community.  That Sunday we all went to church together, and one of the verses Mike spoke about was Proverbs 3:5-6.  “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.”  This was perfect for our situation.  The key word being “paths”… At first we wanted to stay together; however, it became apparent that this, too, was not God’s will for us.  Some needed to go back to work to be able to go on the rescheduled mission, and some were needed with their friends and family.  So those of us who were able to teamed up with Wilmington Area Rebuilding Ministry (WARM) to help a local elderly man repair/install windows and other minor repairs needed around his home.  This was an awesome opportunity for work, fellowship and fun!

And on one final, very noteworthy evening as a team we attended a gathering for Spanish worship.  This is held on Wednesday evenings at a fellow PC3 goers’ home in an effort to reach the Spanish community here in Wilmington.  Everyone was so hospitable and kind; they let us sit up front even though we don’t speak Spanish.  I was sitting in front of this one young lady, and her singing was so powerful, it was like her voice carried all of us!  We all desperately wished we knew what they were saying because the room was so full with God’s loving presence.  Luckily one teammate does speak Spanish and was able to translate.  The speaker was preaching on Luke 19, Zacchaeus the Tax Collecter.  I loved this because I knew all of us would have climbed the sycamore tree to go to Guatemala, but God met us right here at home.  Luke 19:5-6.  “When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, ‘Zacchaeus, come down immediately.  I must stay at your house today.’”  So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly.

I know that I learned a very valuable lesson in being happy and making the most of where God has you right now!  Everything is in His timing.  And most importantly, seek God in ALL that you do, no matter where you are and what you do… He will meet you there.

—Submitted by Whitney Lewis

A good friend of mine recently took a trip to Alaska.  After merely 24 hours (and having never been there before), she declared that she found “home.” Shortly after, she and I took a two-and-a-half-week road trip, driving from North Carolina to California.  At every place we stopped, I consciously waited to see if it felt like “home.”  Sadly I boarded a plane in LA to fly back to Wilmington having never felt that pull to one particular place. I was home for five days before boarding another plane, this time on a much-anticipated mission trip to Guatemala, and had no idea that I would find my “home” in Chichicastenango.

It wasn’t an immediate reaction.  The trip was full of surprises and instances that proved God’s divine sovereignty:

• We were supposed to leave in May, but our original trip was delayed, rescheduled, and ultimately canceled due to a volcanic eruption AND a tropical storm that hit Guatemala.
• The trip was thankfully rescheduled a month later, but only seven of the original 13 could go (luckily five others will be going in September with another team!).
• When we got to the airport (at 5 a.m., mind you), five of the team members thought they did not have a seat assignment because it wasn’t listed on their tickets. (Unbeknownst to us at the time, they actually did have seats all along.)
• Coming home the following Saturday, our plane delays in Guatemala caused us to miss our connecting flight in Miami, forcing us to stay the night at a hotel (thankfully paid for by the airlines…), which inevitably made me miss a flight I was scheduled to take the very next morning from Wilmington to Chicago.

But through all of those traveling tribulations, God remained in control, and He impressed that upon our hearts.  We were fortunate to be in Wilmington and out of harm’s way (i.e. mudslides, sinkholes, etc…) during the natural disasters that devastated much of Guatemala in late May/early June. God taught us how to WAIT on Him during that time of uncertainty, and He taught us how to serve Him no matter where we are.  This lesson came in handy because while in Guatemala there were many times when we had to be flexible—whether it be due to the weather (it rains a lot!) or just cultural differences.

And boy! There were many, many cultural differences.  It didn’t help that I learned how to say five Spanish phrases before taking off. Very few people in Chichi even speak Spanish. The civilization is predominantly Mayan, and there was a lot of idol worship and language barriers that I did not anticipate.  The market (google: “Chichicastenango Market”) is the biggest open-air market in Central America, and it is pretty heartbreaking. The children will run around—dirty, shoeless, sad—impressing on the soft hearts of tourists their need for shoes (for school) or lunch money. It’s very sad. And annoying. They put the “pest” in persistence.  But they’re also extremely cute which makes it hard. I tried running—literally—from one child who playfully ran after me!

We ended up having the opportunity to build four houses that week for widows in rural areas surrounding Chichi.  I will never forget what it felt like that first day when we finished and I looked at Ryan and said, “Dude! We just built a house for this family. A HOUSE!” (I proceeded to do this three more times!) What is considered a house is nothing more than 120 square feet of concrete and wood. But hey! It’s more than they had before, and you wouldn’t believe how incredibly grateful the widows are.  After the build is complete (about 4-5 hours depending on how much we play with the kids—which is a LOT), we bless the home in a dedication ceremony for the widow and her children. It was so spiritually moving on the last build day when the widow was praying in her native language along with the team who was praying in English.

We toured the campus of Monte Flor (Pray America’s future community-focused center that will provide care, spiritual guidance, education and resources that facilitate the health and independence of local families and communities) and were able to see some of what’s in the works for Pray America in Guatemala.  Sixty acres has been purchased, and the original dwellings have been refurbished. A shoe factory, which provides shoes for local children, is on site. (Side note: School is free in Guatemala, but you have to have a uniform and shoes…. Basic things most children do not have and cannot afford. Pray America is making great strides to eradicate this problem.) Plans are being set into motion, and the vision for the land will include girls’ dormitories and a school—I told them to let me know when they need a teacher!

The needs in Guatemala are immense, and Pray America is doing very hard work, but they are trusting and following God with hearts and a passion I have only just discovered. The rates of molestation of young girls here and alcoholism among the men are enough to make you sick to your stomach. But in a culture that does not have a word for Heaven, Hell, or Love, it’s hard to be surprised.  However, seeing the joy in a child’s eyes, a little girl I met named Belbita, as we played soccer in the rain, made me believe that ALL things are possible and that hope can be brought to this nation.

Please pray for Guatemala and for Pray America. Pray that God would open the hearts of the nationals and that He would strengthen the hearts of the missionaries there.

—Submitted by Kristen Barriner

February 7, 2010

“Embrace”

Romans 5: 3-5, Romans 8: 28, Psalm 42:11

We have arrived! We left PC3 at 5:00 AM and arrived here in Biloxi, MS at 4:30 PM (Biloxi time). Rosa drove the entire way, and I must say, Lord, that I am VERY thankful for her! Before we hit the road this morning, Rosa and Juanita (our leaders) gave us today’s word, “Embrace.” Each day of our trip we will have a word to reflect and to help us push through the day. “Embrace,” for me, was really about getting to Biloxi: embracing the road, the driving, and pulling God into every aspect of those things. Though I slept most of the way down there, I was able to relate the word to embracing each other and what was in store for us in Biloxi. Having never been there before, I had no idea what to expect, and we really weren’t even sure what we’d be doing while we were there.

We are staying at Lemoyne Church, in the bunk house behind the church. Once we all got settled in and unpacked, we did our nightly devotional. God made His presence known right away! Rosa was drained and weary from all the driving and from the extra long day. The devotional was all about finding your strength in Christ and through Him you can do anything. Rosa couldn’t even get through the short devotional—she became overwhelmed with His presence. It was just amazing, and at that moment I think we all understood that Christ indeed hand-picked us all to be on that trip and we were right where we needed to be!

I pray that God will help me to be brave during this trip and that God will use me for His will and His works. I pray that He will make me His hands and His feet.

February 8, 2010

“Pace”

Matthew 14: 28-31, Ephesians 2: 6-10, 2 Timothy 1: 3-12

It is day one on the job! Lisa, Kim and I got up early and ran a few miles in the neighborhood behind the church. After an amazing breakfast (Ruth is such a great cook), we went over to “Amanda”’s trailer to help her get it move-in ready for her and her family. Juanita helped with local free clinic today—she will be assisting them today, Wednesday, and Friday. Our word today is “Pace,” Kim’s One Word for this year. Though we are all looking forward to busting out some great work and complete project after project, we need to be sure to pace ourselves. This trip is not about the work we do on the trailer, it is about doing God’s work!

Amanda and her three children were not directly affected by Hurricane Katrina, but Amanda’s parents, “Gwen” and “John,” sought help from the church for some roof repairs after the storm. During the repairs, John, Amanda’s father, accepted Christ!!! Amanda and her children lived in a trailer behind her parents’ house. A month ago, Amanda’s trailer caught on fire and destroyed the trailer. All the children made it out safely; but Amanda, in her attempt to extinguish the fire, was badly burned on her arm and her leg. She was only released from the hospital a few days ago after extensive treatment and skin graphs. Lemoyne Church arranged for the family to receive another trailer. They gave her a “Katrina Trailer.” It definitely needs some work—we will be working on her trailer until it is ready for her to move in.

Today, I mainly helped Amanda clean the kitchen. Rosa worked her magic outside, tidying up the yard and getting all the debris out to the curb for trash pickup. And Lisa and Kim started taping and priming the rooms for paint. It was a gift to be able to talk to Amanda about her story and about her family. Amanda is very shy and can be quiet. Though there was a moment today when she really perked up… She caught a glimpse of the tattoo on my arm and soon after she saw Rosa’s tattoo on her hand. Amanda proudly showed Rosa and I her tattoos. After that moment, I feel like Amanda began to feel more comfortable with us and recognized that we are normal people, we were not judging her, we weren’t making fun of her, we were there for her as her, to love her like God loves us!

Amanda and her sons, “Trent” and “Jake,” are not believers. I pray that during our time here, we will follow Christ and Christ’s will for us. I pray a seed will be planted in Amanda’s heart and her children’s hearts. I pray that God will use us and in the process help us to be more like Him!

February 9, 2010

“Focus”

This morning Lisa, Kim and I ran a little further than the day before, over two miles. Along the run, there were many concrete slabs of where houses used to be, a clear sign of the effects of Hurricane Katrina. At the end of one of the roads, there was a little cemetery, and I couldn’t help stopping my run and reflecting on how all that was around me, including that cemetery, was under water during the storm. People lost so much in Katrina, it was nice to know that even through the rain and the wind and the flood, God was able to bring us all here to help, relieve, comfort, and give hope to people. He is truly amazing!

Today we painted, and painted, and painted… It was refreshing to see what a little paint can do to a place—it is really starting to look like a home. Our word today was “Focus,” Juanita’s One Word. For me, “Focus” was about keeping my eyes fixed on God and not the brush in my hand. It was about looking at the bigger picture: not the wall I was painting, but the lives I was helping to form and change. I’m glad that Juanita was there at the trailer with us today to be able to help us get some work done and connect with the family. Amanda was there to help us again today. She did as much painting as she could; her energy is low because she of the pain she is in. Amanda’s sons where very excited to see their rooms. Trent’s room is Carolina blue, and Jake’s room is a lime green color. The rest of the house will be beige with a dark brown trim.

We invited Amanda and her family to join us tomorrow night for the dinner then service at Lemoyne Church. I hope they are all able to make it. I pray that God will continue to open doors for our group to witness and show Amanda God’s love. I am so thankful that Christ brought us all here for the opportunity to help Amanda and her family.

February 10, 2010

“Trust”

What A DAY! Amanda and her son Jake accepted Christ today!!! It was amazing! Thank You, Lord, thank You! I am honored that Christ chose us, our group to come here and help this family find Him.

We ran again this morning. I ran close to 2.5 miles, a little further each day. It was a lot colder, and the weather was only projected to worsen as we round out the week. All of us were in high spirits this morning. Our morning devotional was about looking to Christ for strength in our work and our bodies and our minds. Our word today was my One Word, “Trust.” We finished up the majority of the painting and began to work on the trim throughout the house. As the day wore on, I began to use that morning devotional more and more to keep me going, trusting that God would provide me the strength to carry on doing His work. I was so happy that they accepted our invitation and joined us for dinner and service tonight. I guess that Gwen and Amanda’s daughter are regulars at the church and the Wednesday night dinner/services. However, Amanda and her sons rarely attend.

Before the service began, Amanda pulled Pastor Bill aside to talk with him, and that is when she accepted Christ as her Lord and Savior! Soon after, Jake did the same! Amanda did not stay for the service. Pastor Bill told us the news once he began preaching. I cannot even describe the feeling that came over me. We were all very emotional and just overjoyed by the news. Pastor Bill’s message was about love, and about showing love to others by doing the right thing. One part of his message that really stuck out to me was about how sometimes as Christians we need to give up things in our lives to help another’s walk. Perhaps not having that “harmless” glass of wine with dinner… If one who struggles with alcohol sees us drinking, they may be tempted to drink, seeing that “it is okay” for us Christians to drink. I pray that God will reveal to me the things I need to purge from my life to help my and others’ walk with God.

Lord, You have really moved mountains during this trip. I am so grateful for all You have done and will continue to do. I cannot wait to see Amanda tomorrow!!!

February 11, 2010

“Discipline”

The weather keeps getting colder. We bravely got out there this morning and ran another two miles. Today’s word was Lisa’s One Word, “Discipline.” The other word circling around the trailer today was “TRIM.” We completed all of the tedious trim work today and got the bathroom fully primed. It really took some discipline to complete all that work today. Amanda was not feeling well, so we were unable to see her today. Gwen and the kids stopped by, and they were pretty impressed with all the work we had done to the place.

The weather today has not been the best. We had some sleet and rain, and they are calling for snow tonight. I pray the weather will hold out so we can have another full day tomorrow. I feel we got to a good stopping point today. I hope we get the chance to go back and finish the painting in the bathroom and give the laundry room another coat before we have to head home.

The plan for tomorrow, our last day of work, is to work at Amanda’s till 11:30, then pick up Juanita from the clinic, eat some King Cake (a New Orleans tradition), have lunch at the church, then do some sight-seeing in Biloxi. I pray that God’s will be done.

I want to lift up the four amazing ladies He has hand-selected to be on this trip. They are all truly amazing and inspiring. I also want to pray for Lemoyne Church, Jim and Ruth, Alan, Amanda and her family. I pray that God continues to bless them.

February 12, 2010

“Still”

It rained all night. We did not run this morning. We had breakfast this morning; Ruth made another tasty meal. At breakfast, we made the decision, with the winter weather fast approaching, to pack and head back home to Wilmington, NC, today. I wished we would have been able to see the family again before we left.

Rosa, our fearless leader, drove us again. It amazes me that God knew that her New York weather driving skills would come in handy on this trip, even as far South as we were. The snow began in Alabama. It was so beautiful. The weather continued to worsen; we got as far as Madison, GA, before we had to stop at a hotel to stay for the night. I have to admit that the hotel room was a nice change from the bunk houses in Biloxi. And though it wasn’t Ruth’s cooking, the Cracker Barrel we went to for dinner was delicious!

The word today was “Still,” Rosa’s One Word for 2010. During the car ride, there was a lot of stillness, with our bodies and our minds. I pray that we all were able to take a hunk of this trip and keep it dear to our hearts. I never have seen God so in my face before this trip. He was everywhere—I mean everywhere. It was truly a blessing to be apart of something so big, for God.

February 13, 2010

“Reflect”

The hotel stay was very nice, and so was the continental breakfast this morning. We got on the road before 9:00 AM. Our word today was “Reflect,” and during the ride home, I did a lot of reflecting on what occurred this week, the new relationships that had been formed, and the way God was able to use us and our skills for His work! This trip was just awesome.

We arrived back at the PC3 parking lot around 3:00 PM, and we all went our separate ways. The snow in Wilmington still blanketed the ground and covered our vehicles. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. I have to say, there is no better way to celebrate than with sharing Christ’s love and works with those around me. God gave me such a gift to be able to share in bringing two people to Christ and to be able to touch a family and a community the way that we did. PRAISE THE LORD!

Submitted by Randi Gress

When Port City Community Church first partnered with Pastor Jackson Mwangi and the Victorious Gospel Community Church in Nakuru, Kenya, we had no idea the magnitude and the breadth of that which God had in store for us all. What we did know was that the need was great, an opportunity was presented—and we serve an almighty God.

One of the many unmistakable examples of God’s movement at work among the body of PC3 has been made evident in the form of this partnership through our HOPE 127 program. “HOPE” stands for “Helping Other People Everywhere.” The “127” refers to James 1:27, which says, “Pure and lasting religion in the sight of God our Father means that we must care for orphans and widows in their troubles, and refuse to let the world corrupt us.” This initiative was created to connect our local church body to people around the world. Its first project is the Kenya Project.

The HOPE 127-Kenya Project (hope127.org) is just three years old, yet it has produced great fruit both here and in Africa. From Pastor Jackson’s eager, unexpected arrival at our doorsteps to the 80 children now living at Mama Hellen’s Rehabilitation Center in Nakuru, one act of faith spurred countless others and has led to the currently unfolding reality of vital care for orphans and destitute children in Kenya. These are children who were once living on the streets due to violence, disease and poverty. Now, they have a secure place to live, basic physical and emotional needs met, and, most of all, a new-found identity in Christ. They are children like 10-year-old Gilbert, who had dropped out of school and was living with his aunt at the city dump before being rescued and taken to the center; he now plans to become a doctor when he grows up. Or James, one of the first boys to be taken in off the streets—where he lived for three years due to poverty and abuse—whose second chance at life has now taken him from Mama Hellen’s to his current enrollment in PEMA Academy. (PEMA, which means “a good place,” is the secondary school now being operated on site at Mama Hellen’s.) Some of the children’s parents have died of AIDS. Some lived on the streets for five years, others just a few weeks. But no matter their circumstances or conditions, they are each a sheep in His fold.

PC3 feels unspeakably honored to have partnered with Pastor Jackson, his wife, Peninah (”Mama Hellen”), and Victorious Gospel in their collective vision to rescue, rehabilitate and care for Nakuru’s children in need. Since Mama Hellen’s Rehabilitation Center was built and first opened its doors in the fall of 2005, God has worked through this project to show the children His love for them and to transform them as His own. In faithful obedience and love, Pastor Jackson and Peninah have guided the children morally and spiritually, reintegrated them into the Kenyan school system, and have kept them well fed—with nutritious meals as well as the nourishing Word of God.

Through our HOPE 127 sponsorship program, committed sponsors have the incredible opportunity to pray for these children and provide for their needs, as well as to participate in encouraging correspondence through periodic letter-writing. The idea is for each child to have three sponsors who will aid in the continual process of their renewal and care. Now that the children have a home at Mama Hellen’s, they are each joyous pictures of God’s redemption. We feel enormously privileged to be used by God to help welcome these new brothers and sisters into the body of Christ and to help continually disciple them through missions to Kenya. The call for us to reach God’s world in need has been affirmed unrelentingly with each relationship formed.

Right now the HOPE 127-Kenya Project is at a very exciting yet pivotal threshold along its journey. Recently, 30 new children have been accepted into the center, and as the project continues to grow, so does its need for support. Here are just a few ways you can get involved with HOPE 127:

• Currently, we have a need for over 100 new sponsors for these boys and girls, as well as general donations to the HOPE 127 fund. If you are interested in becoming a sponsor, please email us (hope127 (at) portcitychurch.org) or stop by the Missions center on Sunday.
• If going to Kenya on a mission is something God has laid on your heart, the application deadline for the August Kenya mission has been extended to March 21st.
• There is also a group that meets to pray for Kenya in the PC3 café at 6:30 p.m. on the third Monday of every month, open to anyone.

We encourage you to prayerfully consider your place in God’s powerful story of the Kenya Project.

“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’” —Matthew 25:40

Alan Barnes’ story

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.”

– John 15:12-13

I was privileged with an opportunity to serve and be served by Biloxi, Mississippi, during the week of spring break. Our team consisted of ten college students, two teachers, a construction leader and a team leader. Just getting to know and spend time with these amazing people for a week would have changed my life, but I was even more blessed to serve our Creator with this group of people. This was the first trip I have ever been on where it was just a random, open sign-up, but I realized that it wasn’t so “random” after all; only God could put a group together that clicked and worked so well with one another. The one thing that brought us together was what God has done for each one of us, and that’s all that mattered!

We left when it was DARK and early on Sunday morning, and after fourteen hours of travel, we arrived at our home away from home: LeMoyne Blvd Baptist Church. LeMoyne doesn’t have to make any claims about being missions-minded; the fruit from this church speaks to how much they love and care for people in need. Before Hurricane Katrina hit, there were 300 members at LeMoyne, and they had a $160,000 budget. The storm caused one-third of their members to leave the area. But they now have more than 400 members and have cycled more than $3 million into the community through home-reconstruction and relief projects!

Now, five years after the storm, their funds have unfortunately run out, so we were the last team to go through LeMoyne. Because it is unwise to start something you can’t finish, there were no new housing projects for us to work on when we got there. We ended up partnering with a couple, Bev and Clive, who started a free medical clinic ministry immediately after Katrina hit. Bev and Clive started this ministry in tents right outside a demolished grocery store and eventually moved into a small trailer. Recently, they were informed that a casino is being built where the clinic is located, and the government has relocated them and bought them a bigger, nicer trailer. The new trailer needed to be renovated, so that was our main project during the week.

We stripped out all of the carpet and prepared the floors for laminate flooring, cut and laid the flooring, primed and painted all of the walls, put the vinyl skirt on the trailer, touched up painting on the outside, built a porch/loading dock for the medical supplies to come in on and transported furniture from the old location to the new. God conveniently put a college student on our team who has experience with electrical work. Most of us have had very little if any experience with this kind of work, and yet God still used us to accomplish so much!

Bev and Clive’s ministry was so refreshing and encouraging to be a part of. Almost all of the hospitals that have been rebuilt in the area are private, so they are not required to see patients if the patients don’t have health insurance or enough money—so you can imagine the need among the sick. Bev and Clive have seen this need and are doing everything in God’s power to meet it; this is now their life. They don’t ask for any information concerning income or status–they simply love and accept every person who comes to them. This truly reflected God’s unconditional love and character to me. When I heard about this ministry, I began to look at my own life and how I love others and was instantly convicted. With something as simple as when the homeless come to me in need, I instantly start thinking, What are their intentions? What do they spend their money on? Are they actually in need? All while Jesus tells us that whatever we do for the least of His, we are doing for Him. God has shown each and every one of us unconditional love, so why should we pick and choose the people we want to love?

Some of our team members had the opportunity to do some touch-up work on the house of a man named Rocky. I only had the privilege of meeting Rocky once when I was picking up a trailer from his house, and he is one of those guys who you can just tell needs people to talk to. It wasn’t until later that I found out his story and why he desires people to talk to so much. Rocky’s wife left him for another man several years before the storm, and the man who ran off with his wife ended up leaving her. Rocky did everything in his power to accept and go back to his wife, but she was too ashamed of herself and ended up committing suicide. Shortly after, Katrina destroyed his house. He collected a fair amount of money from insurance, and he began to build his house himself. About halfway through the completion of his house, he had a massive stroke and lost the use of his right arm and hand. So between his medical bills and physical disability, he couldn’t finish his home. That is where LeMoyne Baptist stepped in. On top of all of this, Rocky’s youngest son was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, which eventually blinded him. Rocky’s story completely broke me and opened my eyes to the suffering that is going on all around us. I am guilty of being negative and complaining about my circumstances that don’t even compare to Rocky’s—and so many others in this world. It was so humbling to see his attitude after hearing what he has been through.

The stories were countless in Biloxi; everybody had a story to tell, and they were all stoked to tell it. Many of them broke our hearts, and others made us jump for joy: hearing how God has been glorified, countless lives have been saved and the church (the people) has been unified through this storm. It was also incredible to hear the stories of our team members, how their lives have been changed by the gospel, and the way that God uses other people’s stories and “storms” to encourage and further my faith. God promises us that there will be “storms” in life, but Jesus Christ is the only place that comfort and peace can be found.

I have made some AMAZING friends and have been blessed in so many ways through this mission, and I pray that I will incorporate these memories into the life that God has before me and never forget what God has taught me. I have heard so many times how awesome it is that I took my spring break and spent it serving God and others, but what I find amazing is the fact that God made a way through Christ for sinful and broken people like me to be able to serve such a powerful and amazing God. There are so many situations in life in which no joy can be found…UNTIL Christ is in the picture. And God paints the picture with us in it—we are the hands and feet. We weren’t saved to sit on our butts and go through the motions; we were saved to go! So let’s go make Him known!

“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.” - Romans 5:1-5

—Submitted by Alan Barnes

The Weekend MOW was started in 1990 as an independent, stand-alone nonprofit to “supplement” the weekday program in the serving of meals to elderly shut-ins. The major difference between the organizations is that the weekDAY program receives federal and state funding, while the weekEND program receives none. To continue operating, the weekend program relies 100 percent on fund-raising and donations—both with individuals’ time and/or resources. The major responsibility of the Weekend MOW program is to “pick up where the weekday program leaves off”… which is holidays and weekends. Thus our motto: “Hunger doesn’t take the weekends off.” How true!

A goal the weekend MOW program has is to involve more individuals at PC3 with our mission, whether through volunteering with a designated route or just being available to fill in. Also, we are looking to fill a void that was created on the fourth Sunday of each month with preparing and delivering meals on a regular basis. We thought that it would be a great opportunity for a couple of small groups to band together to help serve the local community a few hours a month. It’s a wonderful opportunity to actually see the difference that can be made right here in Wilmington. There is nothing better than helping others in whatever capacity available.

Chris Nesselroade,

Chairman and delivery driver of Weekend Meals on Wheels

Working in our public school systems has shown me a lot over these past four years. What it has shown me the most is the amount of NEED our students have: a need for love, a need for encouragement, and a need for someone to believe in them, to show them they matter. When the PC3 Mentor Program was born, I knew I had to be a part of it. I obviously couldn’t be a mentor—working in the field daily with hundreds of students and picking only one might show some favoritism. So I decided to be the Program’s coordinator at the school where I work, Snipes Academy of Art and Design.

I’ve been privileged to serve with some of our church’s most dedicated and compassionate volunteers over the past couple years, and my heart is always touched when I see them in the hallways. Others I hardly ever get to see. Yet they still come, knowing that probably no one from PC3 will actually SEE their active efforts each week. But the Snipes staff continually pulls me aside to tell me how great they’ve been for the students they’re with, and I can only be grateful for the hearts the Lord has instilled in these dedicated mentors.

So this past year the Mentor Program was blessed to partner with PC3’s Treasure Island Live Theater (better known as TILT) and have the team visit a couple elementary schools to perform for children in the community who would otherwise never have the opportunity to see their extremely entertaining talents. Maureen Hill, founder of the Mentor Program and first-grade teacher at Wrightsboro Elementary School, asked TILT early this spring if they could come to her school for Dr. Seuss week, in celebration of the famous author’s birthday. She asked if they would put on a performance based on Green Eggs and Ham and put in an encouraging word to our students. When I found out about this, I soon asked if they could put on the performance twice and come to Snipes in the afternoon, after they performed for Wrightsboro that morning. Of course, they were more than willing to come, and our partnership was born.

Watching the K-2 students being thoroughly entertained left our staff so appreciative, knowing our children need to hear from the community—and not just from us, the teachers. They need to hear that they matter and that they can do just as well as any other student in any other school. After the students left the multipurpose room, getting high-fives from the TILT team as they left, my principal immediately said she wanted TILT to come back. In the following weeks, we came up with the idea for our third- to fifth-grade students to hear from them as well through an EOG Pep Rally! When I emailed the leaders of TILT about this, having the hearts they do for our community, they jumped at the chance to come back one more time before summer vacation.

So during the week of May 12^th, the TILT team returned to Snipes to see our stunned third- through fifth-graders! I’ve never seen such stillness from our upper grades, and I believe they were truly taken away by the performance and the amount of love poured out to them from people they had never seen before. The TILT team sang songs, danced and had volunteers from the crowd take part in some hilarious games. The kids were instructed from the characters onstage to do their best and believe in themselves during the EOG week. It’s a stressful test for these kids, and it was nice to see them relax and have fun beforehand. My principal thanked me afterward, for organizing the event, and I told her all I had to do was ask, and our church responded with eagerness to help in any way they could. The church has made a deep impression not only on our students but also on our staff. I’m so proud to call PC3 home. As the heart of the Lord’s body grows here, so does its imprint on our local community, one that needs Him so badly. We look forward to partnering with TILT in school years to come, as both the school and the church see the benefits of adults coming together to encourage the next generation in Wilmington’s backyard.

Submitted by: Rebekah O’Connor

One of the best but most difficult experiences of the trip was when Pastor Jackson took us to a landfill (where people actually live) to bring each family a loaf of bread and a bag of milk.  The people of Kenya are extremely grateful and happy, although they have next to nothing.  It was a humbling experience, one that made me aware of how truly blessed we are in America to have an abundance of food, clothing and shelter, and a government that ensures everyone has basic necessities.

While at the dump, I picked up a little boy who looked about 2 or 3 years old.  His nose was runny, and he had a cough.  Although he never smiled, I could actually feel how happy he was to be held.  It was like he never got the chance to just relax in someone’s arms.  I know for a fact that if I would have taken him with me that day, no one would have stopped me. Putting him down was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

At Mama Hellen’s Rehabilitation Center, a PC3-supported home for street children, I was able to get to know some orphaned children.  Two in particular are Chir Chir and Alex.  I am now sponsoring Chir Chir through PC3’s HOPE 127 program so that he can continue to live at the center and get a good education.  Chir Chir lived on the streets for four years before being rescued by Pastor Jackson.  Many Kenya children still live in the streets, and they often succumb to a life of drugs and theft.  Their drug of choice (because it is so cheap) is a shoemaker’s glue that they sniff throughout the day.  A former street kid who now lives at the center said that he used to sniff glue so that he wouldn’t have to “feel cold, hungry or lonely.”

God has broken my heart for the children of Kenya.  They are so unselfish.  They have one or two outfits and eat very small portions of food each day.  We brought them candy and sodas on the last day of our trip, and they were elated.  It was like Christmas. One thing that really shocked me was that they didn’t say, “I don’t like this flavor”—which happens every time I give out candy in my classroom here in America.  They never complain about the heat, the flies, their situations.  In fact, the entire time I was with them I didn’t hear a single complaint. We took prayer requests one day, and Alex’s prayer request was for the needy.  He said, “There are a lot of people suffering in Kenya.”  This prayer request was given by a child with no parents, who lives in an orphanage and shares a room with about 15 other boys. All of his belongings fit into one grocery bag that lies at the bottom of his bunk bed. It is amazing that even though they have very little, these boys think of themselves as lucky.

Life is simple in Kenya.  They just have the basic necessities.  Sometimes I think maybe it’s better that way.

—Submitted by Shelly Long

We were a team of about 11 kids—all under 12 years old—and 20 adults! The work at the school was taxing and included moving rocks from the wild to make a rock garden or line a prayer walk, moving furniture and boxes from one building to another, painting walls, etc. The nights at the reservation were long.  It took an hour and a half to get there, and we stayed for about two hours. We limped home around 11:30 p.m.—which was really 2:30 in the a.m. back home in Wilmington!

When I got home and thought about the activity of moving stones from point A to point B, an analogy popped into my head. This was pretty grueling work—the stones were heavy, but every now and then you’d come across one that was small and pretty.  So some folks would put the pretty ones aside to take home with them. The great big huge ones we were ready to throw down  right away.  We were making a rock garden to beautify a path.  So the analogy hit me on my return that those stones are like sin: Some are heavy ones we are so glad to drop as soon as we can.  Others are not so bad; they’re pretty.  We like them and are willing to carry them around a while—at least until we’re carrying so many little ones it begins to weigh us down.  Then we get convicted about that sin and know we need to leave it behind as well.  God uses those sins to make a beautiful path, leading us to His Son, when we are willing to drop the stones and look to Him.

So…. What stands out most to me from this mission trip is: God’s provision!  First, the school needed to get this work done for the kids’ return in three weeks.  They have teams who come throughout the summer but didn’t have anyone scheduled for that week!  Second, on our team we had a licensed electrician, a general contractor and a couple of guys who do handy work at home!  Third, on a personal note, my dietary restrictions were nothing strange for the cook as she has the same allergies as I do! Fourth, even though our traveling team—who were bringing out the equipment in a trailer pulled by a van—suffered not one, not two, not three, but FOUR tire blowouts (without a jack for the first two), and then somewhere around Albuquerque their radiator blew, they arrived safe and whole to AICM!! Fifth, the team acted as one during the VBS nights on the reservation.  We divided up and were able to manage the 40-50 kids that came by—some just to watch what we were doing, others who played rambunctiously around what we were doing, and some engaging completely in what we were doing! Sixth, on our night for TILT, even though we were greeted with a huge electrical storm while setting up in a circus tent with huge metal poles, we pulled it off without a hitch and were joined onstage by a couple of the kids we had seen there all week, as they danced and worshiped with our team of kid dancers!

So, as a whole, we cannot say the trip went smoothly—but as we carried the message of FAITH with us, God remained faithful to us in his provision.  I’m grateful to be given eyes to see that through it all.

—Submitted by Brooks Koff

We all have one: a list of things that we want to do before we kick the bucket.  At age 49, my list was almost complete, so going to New Orleans would just be one more thing to check off… .NOT. I soon realized God had another plan. He led me on this incredible journey where I met the most incredible, inspiring and uplifting individuals.

Before I left to go the New Orleans mission in June of 2009, I had never read the Bible.  I didn’t even know one scripture passage.  I had never even prayed anything but an “Our Father” or a “Hail Mary.”  So much has changed since then, and I credit it first to God and second to everyone that I met on this mission trip.  Christ led me there to help the victims of Katrina, but in turn they helped me so much more.

Yes, I helped paint a church, helped clear land around a house that was flooded, and interacted with people, but they led me to a deeper, more fulfilling walk with God.

I am forever grateful.

In Jesus’ Name.

—Submitted by Rosa Petrucelli

Sometimes in life, our experiences are indescribable. On one hand, we feel that we simply have no words to explain the depth of our feelings; on the other, no amount of words would ever be enough. When I was asked to write about our mission to Ethiopia, I immediately agreed. Such an incredible, life-altering experience must be shared. But when I attempted to put into words the impact of it all, I found myself at a loss. And for those who know me, finding myself at a loss for words is no small feat. In fact, in my career I use words to persuade, convince and prove; they are my swords and shields, and rarely do I find myself in shortage.

I realized, however, as I attempted to convey with my own words the soul-shifting perspective I gained during my two weeks in Ethiopia, that my desire was not to use my own limited vocabulary, but instead, to allow you to hear the voice of those we encountered, the ones God placed in our path along the way. That is, after all, what we are called to do: to speak up for those who have been muted by the oppression of their circumstances. So I want to tell you a story, but it is not mine. This is Eden’s story, and just like her namesake, the garden of her heart was ravaged by the greed of man…

Eden is 18 years old. She is a stunning girl: tall, slim, a complexion of café latte, large almond eyes, and a quiet, sweet disposition. You sense almost immediately, however, that there is a firm resolve, perhaps a solid wall even, beneath the nearly silent exterior. When I met her, she was living in a tiny, windowless room, with a roommate, and two babies under the age of 2. One of them was hers.

Two years before I met her, Eden was living with her grandfather and step-grandmother. Both of her own parents died before she was 9. At 16, Eden was in her second year of college (like our high school), making good grades, learning English, and hoping to become an engineer one day. Her plans were crushed, however, when a family member raped her in her home. Instead of seeking punishment for the rapist, Eden was blamed, cast out, cut off and left homeless. She soon discovered she was pregnant. At first Eden considered abortion; she was a driven young woman with plans of higher education and had no idea how to support herself or her unborn child. Unsure of what to do, Eden encountered a nun from a pro-life organization who counseled Eden and helped her make the difficult decision to have her baby.

In the blink of an eye, Eden’s life transformed from one of promise and future to a story of broken trust and desolation. As you might imagine, limited resources, poverty and desperate need are not new stories in Ethiopia—especially for women. For Eden, however, her circumstances arose in spite of the desire and a true attempt to overcome her past; her predicament was the result of abuse, abandonment and loss. Eden found herself excommunicated from her family and completely at the mercy of handouts and charity from a local organization that works with street children. When she should have been supported, vindicated and counseled, she instead was treated with disrespect, left in disrepute, and held solely accountable for a situation she had no part in creating. The injustice is staggering.

Her reaction is even more shocking. When her son was born, she named him Amen. According to Eden, his birth marked the end of her sad story; he was her Amen and the beginning of a new life. I sat and choked back sobs at the maturity of this 18-year-old girl who told me that she wishes for her story to be an inspiration to other women who have suffered similar abuse. She told me she recognizes that God “is the only one who heals people and that He is the one bringing help.” She said she knew this was true, because how else could my sudden presence in her life be explained? I marveled at her faith, at her strength, at her quiet resolve. I sat in awe of her easy rapport with her son, whom she so easily could have resented but whom she so obviously loves with her every breath.

In preparation for my trip, I had read several books about counseling, healing and listening to women who have been victims of abuse. Although no amount of reading can prepare you for the kind of devastation women like Eden have faced, in listening to her story, I was reminded of the words of one of the authors: “Facing your history means facing what you’ve lost.” I suppose it is her loss that makes Eden’s story in a veritable sea of poverty stand apart from the rest. Before her rape, she was headed somewhere; like so many of us young women in America, she had dreams, hopes, goals. I, and so many of you, can relate to her determination. The difference is that her abuse, and the consequences of it, were hers alone to bear. Judgment that should have been reserved for her abuser was instead piled on Eden’s own narrow shoulders, in the form of cruel isolation, in the form of a child she did not ask for: a constant reminder that all she had done to better her circumstance was easily destroyed at the whim of another. And yet, still, still, she clings to the hope that God has better things in store for her. That He will use her life to illuminate His power and glory in the otherwise dark corners of the hearts of abused women. Eden reminded me, as I was often reminded in my two weeks in Ethiopia, just how much we have to learn from those we seek to teach.

I could tell you so many things about our mission. It was an utterly amazing experience from start to finish—and beyond. But meeting Eden changed my life. Her story marked me indelibly, in ways for which I have no words except to say that I now know that broken-heartedness needs no translator, that the joy of the Lord has no cultural boundaries, and that God’s grace not only fills oceans, it crosses them. Her life serves as a constant reminder to me of all the graciousness God has shown me, of the many blessings I so easily take for granted. Eden’s apparent love as she looked at her son is the very reflection of the grace that God shows us each day. He should hate us for what we have done. We sinned against Him, and our wickedness cost Him His perfect son, just as Eden’s rapist took her innocence. And yet God’s grace, like Eden’s maternal love, knows no wrong, only infinite affection. I am humbled, awed and incredibly thankful for Eden’s life, for the way God has chosen to use her story to illustrate His own love for each of us. I am so grateful to share her story with you. These words are not my own but hers—and, prayerfully, His.

—Submitted by Lindsey Roberson

It wasn’t long after that I was contacted by Maureen Hill, who developed the program.  Maureen paired me with a second grade boy [David] at Rachel Freeman Elementary.  Once my background check was complete and the parental consent was in, we would get started.  During this “waiting period”, I made the mistake of starting to think way too much about it. 

I began to recall my experience as a second grader.  I was in a class with an “at risk” student.  Even at that age, it was clear to me that this little dude [John] was “bad news”.  To compound the issue, we had a teacher who probably shouldn’t have been working with children.  Luckily for my classmates and me, my mom was the grade parent and spent a lot of time in my class.  Later in life, I found out [John]’s story from my mother.  He lived with his mother but spent his nights alone, scared and locked in his room.  It was common for him to be awoken by strange men’s voices and strange noises.

I began to wonder, is [David] going to be just like [John] from my second grade class?  Is his heart going to be hardened already?  Is he going to steal my lunch money?  Is his teacher going to be callus, worn-out, similar to the one that [John] and I had?  And, who am I to think that I am going to be able to reach this kid?  To date, my resume read “Father of 3 wonderful girls” … “can French-braid hair” … “fluent in sweetie talk, like schmoopy and sweet-pea”.  Why in the world did I think I should mentor an “at risk” second grade boy? 

Finally, the day came.  I remember vividly the drive from my work to the school.  I remember praying … “Father, just let me plant a seed today….just something that will reach this child…something that will soften his heart and provide him a glimpse of Your Love.” 

I walked into the school fully expecting it to be my first and last visit.  I anticipated a call from Maureen Hill later that day, “Phil, I just got a call from the school; they decided to go with another mentor.  It’s not you, it’s them.”  Nonetheless, I walked in.  Within five minutes, I knew the truth.  The truth about [David] – he is a wonderful, warm, friendly, and soft-spoken little guy!  Despite the roar of the cafeteria, [David] and I were able to talk.  He was pretty quiet and I had to pull a few words out of him but immediately we hit it off.   The truth about his teacher – she’s clearly a person that cares about her students and wants to make a difference in their lives.  Finally, the truth about me: it was my heart that was hardened not [David]’s. 

Throughout the remainder of the school year, a seed was planted….a seed that quickly grew and bore fruit of The Spirit.  There were many little interactions that gave a reflection of God’s work and His unwavering love for us all.  This experience will live with me always, and I will always have memories of [David].  One that stands out is a discussion I had with him about the following week.  Our day to meet was on Wednesdays.  That following Wednesday, I had to be out of town on business.  I told him I would come see him next Tuesday instead of Wednesday.  He asked me if it could be Monday instead.  I asked him “why Monday”?  He put his little hand on my shoulder and looked me square in the eyes and said “because Monday is sooner than Tuesday”.

We shared some real fun times.  We tossed football with a classmate or two and worked with other classmates on an engineering project.  I got to know some of his other classmates and enjoyed the interactions with them as well.  “Hi [David]’s mentor!”  “How do I get a mentor like [David]?  One hour a week during the school year has such a wonderful, positive impact on so many. 

Submitted by Philip Gaglia

On any given Sunday, a walk through the Grow-Zone halls is like entering a 3-D, colorful honeycomb, bustling with giant butterflies, smiling volunteers sporting trademark play-dough pants and Crayola-stained fingers, and the luminous trails of beautiful, laughing children.  Grow Zone gives all-new meaning to the term “organized chaos”—emphasis on the organized, of course.  It is fun and exciting, but it is also very intentional about what is being presented to these children.  In other words, this is not just childcare, and we are not babysitters.  That is absolutely my favorite part about this ministry.  It amazes me sometimes when I stop to think that, alongside their families, we are actually helping teach these little people the very first concepts they will ever learn about God.  To think that by investing in them like this they will develop a heart for Jesus and get to know Him so early on in their lives is just incredible…

My personal story as a Grow-Zone volunteer doesn’t begin at Vision Drive or even back at Roland-Grise.  It begins in a balmy, bare-walled building with one room, half a world away in Kenya.  It was there on a PC3 mission trip in August 2008 that I found myself in front of a large group of joyful African children, acting out the story of Moses with help from two other team members.  (The three of us, in charades-like fashion, quite efficiently and I’m sure somewhat humorously found a way to demonstrate the parting of the Red Sea.)  We had played and studied the Bible with the boys at Mama Hellen’s Rehabilitation Center all week previously, and the love, enthusiasm, passion for the Lord and His Word, and pure jubilation that radiated within them was reflected back to us as though from a mirror in God’s own hand.  It was awe-inspiring, contagious, spirit-filling and… humbling.  Standing there at Victorious Gospel Community Church in Nakuru, equipped with extremely limited materials, we quickly learned we had only ourselves to offer these children for a three-hour session of Sunday School.  And so offer ourselves we did, in the form of singing songs, acting out Bible stories, asking the children questions about the Bible, playing games, practically any and everything we could come up with outside the realm of modern technology and teaching tools—for that matter, outside the realm of our comfort zones and into the limitless expanse of God’s kingdom.  The look in the eyes of those children as they craved to learn more, hear more, discover more about a God they never for one second took for granted rocked the boxed-in faith I had carried over with me on the plane.  Knowing about Grow Zone back home—of a different place and capacity entirely, yet just as hands-on and intentional about teaching young people about God—I signed up to volunteer as soon as I got home.  It became not only an invaluable way to cope with my re-entry experience and apply what I was processing, but also an excellent and fitting place for me to plug in at PC3 and continue to serve.

Over the past year, Grow Zone has become a place where I can especially and continually see living proof that when we draw near to God, He draws near to us.  Just last week, upon discussing with the 4-year-olds in our room that we can pray at any time whatsoever, one little girl piped up from among the tangled cluster of children sitting “criss-cross applesauce,” who were, as always, eager to contribute: “You can even pray if you wake up in the middle of the night, because God stays awake in case we need Him!”  It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard a child say.  That is, only to be rivaled by yet another one of many memorable Bible-story moments within my experience in Grow Zone, when the teacher I was serving with asked the kids to share some reasons why they are thankful for God.  You might expect a bunch of 4-year-olds to say because He gave me this and He gave me that.  But one little girl said it best when she simply said, “Because He loves us.”

Oh how He loves us.

—Submitted by Emily Rea

From Holly -
We really enjoyed our experience this summer with Venya!  We were definitely stretched through this experience.  I remember the first night Venya arrived and how strange I felt when I crawled into bed.  We had just picked him up, so it was sort of like having a total stranger in the house.  How do you rest?  I feel like I slept the first few nights with one eye open.  I was just nervous about him wandering through the house, or needing something and not being able to communicate that to us.  He actually did just fine and we settled in pretty quickly.

Having a new child in the house took some getting used to…while he was easy to love, I just worried about him.  Is he homesick?  Does he feel okay?  Does he need anything?  How is he going to get along with our daughter, Sydney? Is he bored?  I tend to over think things sometimes, so again, I was just constantly stressed at first.  During those times I was especially thankful for Don and Yasmin and the group.  Just being with other host families and getting the support of just being in their company helped us a great deal.  We also were fortunate in that our entire neighborhood wanted to meet him, help with him, try to communicate with him.  We saw such a sweet side to many of our neighbors who gave us clothes…toys…play date invitations, etc.  I’d say after the first week, we were much more comfortable.

We were surprised at how little he seemed to have and yet how content he seemed to be.  He arrived with one small backpack and one set of clothes…the ones that were on his back.  The first morning we sat down for breakfast, we were surprised to learn that the only things in his backpack were gifts for us and one small photo album of his family.  It was pretty touching…he brought Bobby some chocolates and he wanted him to have one that morning with his breakfast…so we did. J  While he didn’t have much, he seemed quite generous throughout the stay which really was a lesson to us.  He smiled A LOT and was really thoughtful.  When I would play a game with him, he would always insist that I go first.  He often looked out for Sydney and he was quick to say the words, “thank you.”  For having so little, he seemed so content…again, a big lesson for us.

We also had the treat of having Ira (the translator) spend the day with us during their visit.  She too seemed to have very little.  She kept saying she wanted to go shopping.  I asked her what she wanted to go shopping for and that’s when she let us know that she really would love to have a pair of blue jeans.  I told her that Bobby and I would treat her to a pair, so she and I jumped in the car and went to purchase her some jeans.  She was extremely grateful and again, I learned a little something about myself and the things I take for granted.  At one point in the day, I told her I could probably pull some clothes out of my closet that she could have because, “I didn’t wear them.”  She said, “Why do you have clothes in your closet that you don’t wear?”  I learned that I have SO much to be thankful for.  I definitely have all I need and really need to be more grateful for the all of the comforts I have…blue jeans and all. J

I think God showed me that if I lean on him, he can give me peace and that if I lean on him, he can do more than I can even imagine.  Who would think that it could actually be possible to love a total stranger for 6 weeks and then send him home and actually feel really good about it?  I mean, both aspects of the visit are hard…the “hello” when you know nothing about the child and the “goodbye” when you realize your time with them is through and they must return to their home which is halfway around the world.  I’ve learned that God can really stretch your heart and when that happens it really is a pretty remarkable experience.  You feel love that you never knew you could feel and I know that’s God revealing himself.

I’ll never forget the last day.  We had Venya all packed up and ready to go the night before.  We found him in his room that morning with the light on…he must have woken up sometime in the night, but he was back to sleep in the morning.  We took him to meet the bus and that was such a bittersweet experience.  We loaded his suitcase onto the bus and gave him some BIG hugs before watching him climb the steps and take a seat.  I’ll never forget the scene.  We went around the bus to his window and held up our hands to the glass…our hands on one side…his hand on the other.  Before long the bus started up and began to move.  We continued to wave (and cry) until the bus was out of sight.  It was like a scene from a movie as many of the host families continued to stand there in the heavy silence.  We were grateful for our experience with Venya and hope that we made a difference in his life…he made one in ours.

From Bobby -
For me, I learned that it is not as hard as I thought it would be to love a total stranger.  At first, it was difficult for me to hug him or really feel love for him…I kind of felt like a chaperone on a school trip for about two weeks or so.  I also felt that we needed to be responsible for his entertainment.  I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t bored, which did “stress” us a little bit.  But I feel like this experience showed me that I shouldn’t be fearful or hesitant to extend myself to a stranger.

Two things happened early on, that as I reflect on the experience, had an impact on our relationship.  The first day Venya was here, I had to jump into our pool, clothes on and all, and essentially save him from the depths of the deep end.  The second thing that happened occurred on about the third night he was here.  At about 1:00 am, I awoke to find Venya standing in the doorway of our bedroom.  I figured out that he must have had a nightmare and was too scared to go back to sleep by himself in his bedroom.  I ended up lying in bed with him and both of us fell back to sleep.  Again, at this point, he was still a “stranger” to me.  I feel like these two events helped us to “bond” and I wonder if that was GOD working on me.  GOD knew I needed a little help with the concept of having a stranger “interrupt” our summer fun, and these two events helped me to see the bigger picture of this mission.   I learned that there was something inside me, on a basic instinct level, that overrode the feelings of being “inconvenienced” with ruining a pair of shoes in the pool or sacrificing a good night’s sleep in my own bed.  I feel that all humans possess this instinct to care for others, but unfortunately our own comforts and conveniences and sense of materialism get in the way of helping others and expressing GOD’s love to the world.  It’s still hard for me to put my comforts and conveniences aside for the sake of GOD’s kingdom, but this experience helped me to realize the importance of doing just that and the sense of fulfillment that comes along with it.

Submitted by Bobby and Holly Campbell

It has been an honor and a privilege for Port City Community Church to have partnered with our area classrooms and schools this past year.  The purpose and hope for the Port City Mentor Program was to provide a caring, dependable role model and friend in the lives of at risk elementary students who were struggling behaviorally, academically, or socially.   We are thankful that we were able to pair up 33 students, at five schools, each with a mentor to help encourage and support them through school and daily life.  The relationship and bond that was formed between the students and their mentors was amazing!  There are countless stories of how these adult mentors made a difference in students’ behaviors, attitudes and even academic performance.  Teachers have shared how once their student began meeting with their mentor they saw a more positive attitude both in and outside of the classroom.  Many teachers also saw a positive impact on the child’s self-esteem and peer relationships.  Students who once dreaded being at school, now were excited and had something and someone to look forward to each week.  One teacher at Rachel Freeman commented how after meeting his mentor, her second grade student was the happiest she had ever seen him and was much more willing to follow directions and complete his work.   

These mentors were extremely committed to their students and committed to supporting them no matter what they needed.  Not only did they eat lunch with the students once a week, but many stayed later to play basketball, solve puzzles, volunteer in classrooms and some even played cards to help students brush up on their math facts!  Many also supported students by attending school ‘family nights’, end-of-the-year fun days, and parties; and two of our fifth grade mentors at Snipes Academy attended fifth grade graduation.  Not only giving of their time, these mentors reached out farther when they saw their students in need.  Mentors sometimes donated school uniforms and classroom supplies as needs arose.  These volunteers cared and loved these children beyond what was asked of them, and the children and teachers noticed.  Often, mentors became not only important to their student, but the whole class began to look forward to their weekly visits!  At one point, we were asked if could provide a mentor for an entire class!  (We wish we could have!)  Teachers were also thankful for our new partnership.  They appreciated the consistency and dependability of our volunteers.  A second grade teacher at Snipes Academy stated that this was the best experience she has had in a school with volunteers.  She greatly appreciated how caring and capable the mentors were.  All teachers who participated in the program this past year stated that they look forward to working with the Mentor Program mentors again next year. 

The Port City Mentor Program not only impacted the students and schools, it also had a huge impact on the mentors.  They learned so much from their weekly lunches with these amazing children!  Mentors looked forward to hanging out with their student, hearing their stories and experiences and simply just playing and laughing with them!  Many mentors stated how special they felt by seeing how excited their child was to meet with them each week.  One mentor shared how she never realized how the smallest amount of extra attention meant so much to her student and could make such a difference!  Many other mentors commented how just showing up and getting hugs and high-fives from their students (and their classmates) always brightened their weeks!  One mentor at College Park Elementary shared the best part of his experience was that he was able to provide some sense of stability and security in his second grade student’s often unstable life.  These relationships between the mentors and the students were ones that was positive and life-changing for each of them.  

As we look ahead to the future, we are excited to continue our partnership with New Hanover County Schools.  We will continue to partner with the five elementary schools from this past year and hope to also expand to Castle Hayne Elementary and Forest Hills Elementary schools.  Many mentors will continue their weekly lunch meetings from this past school year and we hope to provide many new volunteers for new students referred to the program.  Above all else, our hope is to continue to encourage, care for, and support these students, their families and our area schools.   This past year has been a wonderful experience for all involved and we are so thankful to have been given this opportunity.   

Out of some 90 churches once there, about 10 were making the comeback post Hurricane Katrina.  But don’t call it a comeback for The Church of All Souls Episcopal Parish in the heart of the Lower Ninth. It was truly a whole new game.

We arrived from our digs at the Tulane University Baptist Student Center to find that this church we were helping already had its leaders and staff involved in re-establishing a place for worship and community outreach.  It was all taking place in a gutted Walgreens building on St. Claude Avenue that had shut down after Katrina (we saw at least three commercial places around the church that remained abandoned).  In their makeshift yet confident sanctuary, we received our briefing from church staff, and then it was off to the work sites.

My crew started off the day taking some snap shots of the Mississippi River bank and the New Orleans skyline.  We knew it was the Big Easy, but was our work going to be this much of a cake walk?  It wasn’t long before we were painting away on a lady’s house.  Not too easy.  Then again, she did cook us authentic beans and rice, and also made us complimentary Sno Balls (like Snow Cones) later that week.

Back at Walgreens, I found some of my mission comrades painting, starting trim work and even designing a doorway.  Another third of the group was off landscaping a church member’s lot. It was a heroic effort, as I learned that the group resorted to using shovels and some brawn after dismissing some shoddy weed whackers.

If there’s one thing the whole team had in common, it’s that we were sweating big time. Temperatures were upwards of 90 degrees each day. Conveniently enough, we were able to look productive even on our breaks.  We played with kids.

All Souls ran a summer program for children. It was simultaneously happening with the renovations.  A recipe for chaos?  Not hardly. Volunteers were able to pull it off with some skillful organization. We saw kids improving their math skills and enriching themselves in the arts.  I got a warm feeling when I first met some of the kids and learned about the summer program.  And what a great escape from laboring—although I admit it was tiring to lift kids more than three times in a row for slam dunks on the basketball hoop.

As the week continued, I learned more about myself.  I found out I could actually get a lot done in a construction-related mission trip, which isn’t really my bag.  I observed how well our group contributed to the work end of things, as well as interaction with locals.

Not to speak for the group, but I’m pretty positive we all learned something about ourselves.  The trip pushed us in our walks with Christ.  And not to brag, but we were one amazing group.  There was a sense of growth and encouragement all around. Some of us had been following Christ for years, some not even months.  Despite where each of us stood, I felt God was pulling us toward Him. We all had personal reasons for going on the New Orleans Mission, but God revealed additional, more meaningful reasons for leading each of us there.

Expecting to see occasional damaged homes, or the occasional abandoned lots, what we saw when we first entered the Lower Ninth was quite dreary. We saw significant damage and numerous rundown areas.  I realized New Orleans hadn’t come as far as I thought it had since Hurricane Katrina hit in late August 2005 (yeah, do the math).

We became familiar with the “X” markings on houses from government agencies such as the National Guard and DEA.  Occupancy was shown on one side of the X, representing residents who had been injured or killed during the storm.  Within such a grim scene, God kept our spirits up.  Luckily, we were able to pitch in around the community, painting a couple houses and, of course, taking part in All Souls’ vision.   One of my favorite days was Wednesday, June 24th.  We canvassed a section of the Ninth Ward handing out flyers for a cookout and worship service at the church that night.

It was neat to see the culture of a New Orleans neighborhood such as this.  We were told to be careful, as the Lower Ninth has its questionable spots, but I thought about how Jesus went into questionable settings in his ministry.

We met residents and talked about what the church was doing.  We ventured a little further than we were advised.  We got a fairly good response.  I remember getting a chance to listen to a local man’s story and share some about my faith with him.  Intangible experiences such as this were something sweet, as several team members got a chance to share with some individuals around the community.
Days like Wednesday were a lot to pack into the work day.  When we arrived home each day to our air-mattress jigsaw puzzle at the student center, we had some free time.  A lot of us took some God time.  Sometimes, I would venture around the block to The Boot, a popular convenience store on the edge of Tulane’s campus, for some chocolate milk and chewing gum.  Later on we had group reflection time, a time for recounting the day’s happenings, praying and laughs.  It was a great time to rejuvenate our spirits to head out for the next day’s work.

By the latter half of the week, we were all in a huge, bustling effort to finish up our jobs on the Walgreens-turned-worship site.  Just imagine 30-plus people slaving away outside any Walgreens, except on an extremely hot day in the middle of what is arguably a ghost town.  Under the direction of some superb leadership, we completed paint jobs.  A few team members completed a doorway, which I remember being quite impressive.

After wrapping up Thursday night’s delicious homemade taco meal, and learning about Michael Jackson’s death, we had our final New Orleans debriefing and group meeting.  I had never felt so much power in group prayer.  I had never seen so many folks lifting up others, praising them not only for a job well done but the gifts each person had to offer overall.

Each day was a scorcher down in the Big Easy, but it didn’t stop us from serving those in need.  I felt like we left the Lower Ninth Ward better than we found it.  Sure, we did some great construction—but I think we did more for the Great Commission.

Submitted by Adam King

After traveling two full days, we arrived in Conakry – the capital of Guinea – tired but full of anticipation.  It was dark and we were told we are not to take ANY pictures in the airport.  Men in official uniforms checked our passports and papers.  The airport was hot and dimly lit.  One bag didn’t make it from our place of departure in Wilmington, NC.  We were the last to leave the airport and I was amazed by the amount of trash in the baggage claim area (wrappings, paper, tickets, etc.) left behind by the travelers.  Ten of us in total were escorted through check points at the airport by a couple of very helpful people, one being Geno, a missionary who would be hosting our stay in the village that would be our final destination.

Leaving the airport and driving through the capital I must have looked like a kid at Disney World for the first time.  With wide eyes, I stared out the window at the dim often times dark city around me.  There were people everywhere and small fires burned here and there (I later learned this was a way for them to attempt to control their trash from building up everywhere [a goal that was never quite reached]).  Where electricity did not exist, small lanterns were seen along the sides of the streets to throw off what little light they could.  You see, the city runs its power on a rotating schedule, so sometimes there’s power, but more often there’s not!

After a night’s stay in a gated missionary guest house, we were off to meet the people in a village that was to be our destination, a 3 ½ hour ride from the capitol.

As we turned off the highway, the sign indicated the village would be 7 km farther.  We (in our four-wheel drive) were ushered in by the President of the village (on his motorcycle).  As the red dirt gave way to brown sand, we knew we were near our destination.  The missionaries’ houses were simple accommodations, but had comfortable amenities – limited water pumped from a well and electricity run by a generator.  They were very clean and fairly spacious.  After cleaning up, we headed down the road that led to the village.

I have never fallen in love with a group of people so quickly or missed anyone I’d just met as much as I have these people.  These beautiful, strong, loving people stole my heart immediately.  We were blown away by how they embraced us. We were greeted by a parade of villagers singing, beating drums, and dancing to welcome us to their village.  Children ran to greet us and hold our hands.  Those who couldn’t hold our hands, because others already were, would grab a hold of our shirts.  They just wanted to be close to us and make us feel welcomed.  Huts made of earthen bricks and straw roofs surrounded us as we made our way to the center of the village.  The dancing and singing continued and we were invited to join in.  After a while, the President insisted that we be seated.  The people had seemingly brought out some of the only chairs to be found in the village for us to sit on.  In a speech (translated by Geno), we were greeted and given welcome.  The President told us that he and the villagers were grateful to have us there and explained that they, themselves, had nothing…therefore had nothing to give us in return for our visit.  What he did not realize, however was that the villagers were about to give us an experience that was priceless.

Over the next few days some of our team would do dentistry (extractions and teaching of oral hygiene), administer medical aid to some of those in need, give support and comfort for those being seen and treated, install a pump in one of their wells, help the villagers to prepare the foundation for a rice storage shed, and take pictures to be used as icons in a future literacy program.  While we were there, we would learn some of their common phrases, and a lot about their way of life, traditions, and beliefs.  We learned how these happy, loving, generous people also lived in fear.  Their belief in animism left them constantly trying to appease the spirit that is believed to watch over them and when we visited their “sacred tree”, walked by the “sacred forests”, and passed by the house of the spirit, my heart went out to these unreached people.

These missionaries have been in Guinea since 2001 and in the village since 2004 learning their specific language and culture as well as building relations with these people.  Their ultimate goal is to translate the Bible into the language of these people – one spoken by no other group of people – so that they may come to know Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior.  This is a process that cannot be hurried.  It is not just important, but crucial that they know the language and culture well enough to interpret and translate the Bible with utmost accuracy.  The beginnings of a literacy program are underway currently with PC3’s very own Emily C. helping lay the foundation.

The missionaries have already created a strong sense of trust with the villagers.  It is only because of them that the villagers trusted our team enough to allow Dr. B., Jennifer, and Lisa (the dental group that was a part of our team) to do the much needed work on the villagers’ teeth.

While we were there our goal was to help these people in any way we could.  More importantly was for us to show God’s love to them through our actions.   Even though these people have never been introduced to the Lord, they are certainly loved by Him.  We know he wants them for His own and we look forward to the day when they will meet Him.

No one on our team will ever forget these people.  The President, Mr. B., Jaques, Sorell, Matisumo, Matiama, and Amara are just a few of these amazing individuals who will, forever, remain etched in our minds and hearts.

—Submitted by Reneé DeVos Riggs

On May 30, 2009, our mission team, which consisted of fourteen eager and more than willing individuals, arrived in Chichicastenango (Chichi), Guatemala to work for Pray America, an organization that provides houses for some of the hundreds of Mayan widows and their fatherless children who live there.  The large number of widows in and surrounding Chichi are a result of a civil war that lasted in Guatemala for several decades.  Over the course of our week-long mission, our team built a total of five houses.  We also worked at three different community feeding centers; these are also operated as a ministry of Pray America.  While the entire trip was impressionable for all of us –everything from the bumpy truck rides through the mountains to the building sites each day, to praying and debriefing as a group each night in Jesus de Manos (the mission house where we stayed) – each of us has been left with particular memories in which God’s presence and love was revealed to us.

Despite the language barrier and the limited time we spent with the widows and their children while we were building their homes, we learned as much as possible about the families and their needs.  One of our team members, Jay Hopper was accompanied on the mission by his daughter Kelsey.  Jay – an incredible father whose godly actions spoke louder than his soft-spoken words – displayed immense compassion for the widows.  When asked to describe one of his most memorable moments of the trip, Jay explained “One of the things that impacted me the most was hearing the widow’s story on our last day of building.  This widow’s husband had passed away a couple of years earlier, and she had been left alone to raise her family.  She had to go into town to find work as a maid.  By the time she paid for her transportation, she cleared fifteen “quetzals” (the equivalent of approximately two dollars a day).  She was so thankful and happy to receive a new home and a new Bible.  She told us that she would teach her children from that Bible.  Later, as we were leaving, she came running out to the road to help give us driving directions and she was still clutching that small Bible.”

Like Jay, I too was impacted greatly by the stories of the widows. Although the widows were very appreciative and filled with joy, I could not help but see the pain that was embedded in their eyes under their tears of joy. Even though I was thankful to be a part of providing and building homes for the widows, I wanted the chance to do something more. After exchanging our American dollars for “quetzals” to use in the famous Central American market on Sunday and Thursday, Chichi’s famous market days, I decided to keep 10 quetzals in the bag that I carried with me to the building sites each day. Although I knew I would not need the quetzals while building, I could not avoid the rule of thumb my parents always told me while growing up: “Always carry a little cash on you in case you need it for an emergency.” It wasn’t until the second day of building that my 10 quetzals came into use.  While my team members and I were working on a widow’s house, we noticed that an elderly woman, who appeared to be angry, would not leave the widow’s side and she insisted on taking the gifts that we had brought for the widow and her children. After several minutes of discussion between the elderly woman, the widow, and one of the employees of Pray American who speaks K’iche’, we were told that the widow owed the elderly woman 10 quetzals. We were asked if any of us had any quetzals on us and I realized that I had the 10 quetzal bill in my bag. Once I gave the widow the money and she gave it to the elderly woman, the widow was free of her debt and the elderly woman was satisfied. I was so thankful to have been blessed with the opportunity to help the widow pay her debt and I understood why God had made me make the choice to put that money in my bag.

Not only did God work through us in providing for others, God also worked in us and changed many of our hearts. For Christina Koch, a UNCW student who always has a smile on her face, one of the most impacting experiences for her occurred on the last day of our trip when we visited and delivered school supplies and vitamins to children at a local school. According to Christina, “During one of the debriefings, I had prayed very hard about the Lord breaking my heart for what breaks His and genuinely loving people.  The next day we were out at a local school and I was overwhelmed with empathy.  I was brought to tears and was unable to stop crying.  For the first time in my life, I had felt my heart break like our Father’s does for his people.  I got a glimpse of what God feels for his children.  I am very thankful for the opportunity that God gave me to witness that.”

At the end of our week in Chichi, although I was anxious to return home to see my loved ones and share my experiences with everyone I knew, I was extremely sad to leave the family I had developed there.  As we rode in the hot and dusty bus back to Guatemala City I felt a strong love for the country and its people. Apparently I was not the only one of the team members who felt sad.  Several of us cried as we hugged and said our goodbyes to some of the staff members of Pray America before we left for the airport.  Perhaps Rosemary Smith (better known as Ro) whose nurturing and compassionate character caused her to become a mother figure for all of us during the trip, put it best when she said “The trip to Guatemala for me could be described as being ‘Purposeful’. Not only were we there to do God’s work by building, serving, and ministering, but I know that He put each of us there to build relationships – with the Guatemalan people, the staff of Pray America, and especially within our team itself. My life will be forever richer because of this experience of seeing God’s hand in so many areas, especially in our personal lives. I have been truly blessed!”

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this:
to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself
from being polluted by the world.”    James 1:27

—Submitted by Danielle Woods

On this trip, God taught me that He is richly present in our world (every single day) whether we recognize it or not! He showed me that we need to trust that His way is perfect and that we should welcome challenging times as opportunities to trust Him, because he is NEVER taken by surprise. The trip left me with feelings of overwhelming joy that God is SO GOOD… all the time. I don’t think I’ll ever forget witnessing LeMoyne Boulevard Baptist Church putting God’s love into action, nor will I forget the incredible team that the Lord put together for me to serve with from Port City. As for now, I have this burning desire to serve, to love, to GO wherever God’s will takes me. I have high hopes that PC3 will continue to take action in Biloxi, as the people there continue to be in need of love, encouragement, and strength.
-Lauren Cox

God is real. He allows me to hold up dry-wall long after my own strength would have given out, just three days after having the flu. He gives me inexpressible joy while I serve others and Him, joy I would have never expected or felt through any other means. God is powerful. He breaks 18 men in an abandoned field to tears as they each realize in their own way at the same time that they are nothing without God and nothing before him. Jesus is alive. Biloxi was living proof.
-Travis Thomas

My favorite verse James 4:8, says draw to God and he He will draw to you. I went with the purpose to serve God, and came back with the strongest relationship I have ever had with Him. There is nothing better than doing His work alongside of a strong Christian based Community. The memories, friendships, and the feelings from the trip will never go away. The trip changed my life.
-Drew Sellers

I love how God takes simple, ordinary things like working on a house and uses them in extraordinary ways. He moves so powerfully in our lives when we give of ourselves to others for His glory. Serving with this team in Biloxi really gave me a clear picture of what we were created to do.

—Submitted by Lauren LeFoe

Until July 2007, when I saw the preview episode for CongoCast, played at Roland Grise one Sunday morning. It was the summer that the middle school’s AC kept breaking down, and there we were, probably about a thousand people crammed into those hard wooden chairs that made that annoying-yet-comfortably-familiar squeaking noise with every move. The trailer started with a rainy scene, and everything else fell silent. We were riveted. I was riveted.

For the rest of the summer, I thought about Congo. I watched the podcast obsessively, playing and replaying the episodes until I could practically recite each one. I couldn’t get Congo off my mind.

Then at the beginning of 2009, I was given the opportunity to go with a team to the DRC. Suddenly, this abstract concept was becoming a reality. Suddenly, it wasn’t just thinking. It was getting vaccinations and taking malaria medicine. It was buying a sturdy pair of waterproof hiking boots (which I would later be incredibly grateful for). It was leaving my husband for nearly three weeks, the longest we’d ever been apart since getting married. It was telling my parents, I’m going to the Congo, and hoping they wouldn’t see any of the podcast before I went, especially episodes like the one in which Wendy nearly dies in a Congolese hospital.

And then, after weeks of preparation and prayer and early morning team meetings, we were off. No turning back now. Africa, here I come.

As soon we stepped into the Addis Ababa airport to await our connection to Kigali, Rwanda, I felt I had stepped into another universe. As we climbed into a Land Rover and were driven through the streets of Kigali—where the Rwandan genocide had begun nearly fifteen years earlier—I felt home slipping further and further away. And as we walked across the bridge from Rwanda to Congo, I felt as though everything secure and steady were dissolving.


Over the next two weeks, everything was going to change.

How do I summarize the experience? How do I put into words how loving the people at church were, how beautiful their faces were as they worshipped, as they sang pitch-perfect and loud songs I couldn’t translate but understood nonetheless? How can I describe how it felt to sit across from a woman as she told us how her parents had been killed and how she had been kidnapped and raped, how she didn’t know how to tell her daughter about the man who was her father, a rebel, an interahamwe soldier?

I expected the sorrowful moments, but I did not expect how much joy I’d experience in Congo. Every day, the Pastor and his wife who hosted us, brought us platters and bowls full of some of the best food I’ve ever eaten, and we never could finish it all. We devoured plates of rice and beans, cabbage and spinach and peas, grilled meat and chapatti bread. We washed it all down with Coke and Fanta and Sprite out of tall glass bottles, and we drank carafes of hot homemade lemongrass tea. The Pastor and his family treated us like royalty, and we could see in their faces how pleased they were to do it, how much it meant that people from PC3 cared about them, knew their story.

I expected the poverty, but did not expect the beauty around Bukavu. Lake Kivu is impossibly blue, with tropical flowers growing everywhere. The mountains were misty in the morning, with the sun peeking over them and making everything glow. One day, we ate ice cream made by nuns in a red-roofed convent just outside of town. We were surrounded by tall wispy-looking pine trees, by cacti and birds of paradise, and as we sat in a little pavilion sharing containers of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream, talking about how the Pastor and his wife first met decades ago, I looked around and knew I was in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

And, finally, I expected the women who had been raped to be scarred from their experiences, but I did not expect their hope. While we were there, we met a woman who had just been saved. She had been through unspeakable things, and the first time we met her, the grief was etched into her face. She seemed small and nervous and said she felt she had no purpose. By the time we left, after she had been enveloped into the church community, after she had witnessed a “graduation” ceremony celebrating other women who had similar stories and who were now independent, after she had been devouring the Bible someone at the church had given her, the change was remarkable. She sat up straighter. She smiled. She said she had a purpose now. The difference was love—God’s love and the love of the church.


As we walked back over that bridge and into Rwanda, I looked back at the Pastor standing on the Congo side of the border, waving goodbye, and I knew I would be back. As we drove to the airport, the river on our left, eucalyptus trees towering overhead, I knew this place had gotten to me, that it had gotten under my skin. A place I never wanted to visit, but I place I couldn’t possibly forget. And now that I’m back in the States, I am praying that God will send me back, that He will allow me the privilege of once again seeing that beautiful lake, of hearing the choir worshipping, of shaking the Pastor’s hand, of hugging the Pastor’s wife and saying, Asante sana. Asante.

—Submitted by Erin Bond