Nearly seven years ago, I began my career as an orchestra teacher. I had plans to continue my education, become well-respected in my career, and be the best teacher I could be. I would someday get married, have kids, and maybe do the whole white picket fence thing, with a dog and a yard and two cars in the garage. The American Dream.
Five and a half years ago, a team from my church returned from a trip to Kenya where they worked on details for starting up a non-profit to work with our partner church in Nairobi. Their pictures and their stories worked their way into my heart, and I just knew I had to visit that country some day.
Four and a half years ago, I stepped off of a plane onto soil 8,000 miles from home, of a country I'd been praying about. I only spent three weeks there, but the people and the country left a mark on my soul, and I never fully left Kenya again. A part of my heart was always there.
Three and a half years ago, I returned to the country that had left such a large impression on my soul. I thought a return trip might satisfy this longing I had to be there, but it only intensified it. And I knew that this longing was no ordinary longing, but one that had been placed there by God. I no longer wanted the American dream--I wanted God's dream. I was being called to Kenya for more than just 3 weeks. I had no idea what that looked like, or even if it was really God or just the excitement of Kenya talking, so I went home and prayed for a long time.
Three years ago, God confirmed that he was calling me to Kenya. I broke up with the man I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with and started doing all I could to pay off my debts so I could get to Kenya as soon as possible. I was going all in, and couldn't wait to follow this dream that God had placed in my heart.
Two years ago, the pace I had been living at to try to get to Kenya faster caught up with me. I began treatment for anxiety & depression, I had to scale back on the second job I was working to pay off my debts, and I didn't go to Kenya that year. I spent many tearful hours in prayer, asking God why he'd placed this longing in my heart, only to let these enormous obstacles get in the way. I'd completely changed the course of my life the year before to follow this dream, and now it looked like God wasn't letting me follow it. I feared I would never pay off my debts without working as much at my second job, and I feared I'd never be mentally healthy enough to move to Kenya. I would never be completely happy if I wasn't in Kenya, but I would never be mentally healthy if I kept up the pace required to get me to Kenya.
Two years ago, my pastor forwarded me an email he'd received from someone who'd visited a school called the Tania Centre, started by a Kenyan man our church used to support. My pastor thought I'd be interested in finding out more about this school, and I ended up making plans to spend my summer there. If I wasn't getting to Kenya for a longer period of time anytime soon, I may as well try to spend what time I could there.
A year and a half ago, I stepped onto a plane not knowing much about the place where I was going or even who would be meeting me at the airport. I trusted that God had a plan for this summer, but questioned why I thought it was a good idea to commit for such a long time (5 weeks) at a place I knew next to nothing about. And why the people who sent me thought it was a good idea.
A year and a half ago, while the children at the Tania Centre were so completely capturing my heart, I read a book by Mother Teresa with an idea that changed my whole way of thinking: "I must not attempt to control God's action; I must not count the stages in the journey He would have me make. I must not desire a clear perception of my advance upon the road, must not know precisely where I am upon the way of holiness. I ask Him to make a saint of me, yet I must leave to Him the choice of the saintliness itself and still more the means that lead to it." God used this book to remind me that this dream was not my own; this dream was his. This plan was not my own; this plan was his. No matter how hard I worked myself to get to Kenya, it would never happen if it wasn't on God's timing, in God's way.
One year ago, I opened the hands that had been holding so tightly onto my dreams of Kenya. I let the dream return to the Dream-Giver and accepted that it might be a long, long time until I get back to Kenya for more than a few weeks at a time. I accepted that Virginia was where God wanted me right then, and that the dream he'd given me was not mine to force into being, but his to fulfill at the right time. I began praying to be in Kenya in about 7 or 8 or 10 years instead of the 1 or 2 years that I'd been hoping for. And I was at peace.
Seven months ago, I returned to the Tania Centre, not with the fear of the unknown that I'd had the previous year, but with joy and excitement to see the children and adults I'd fallen so in love with the year before. I only had 6 weeks with them, but I would soak up every second and thank God for the time that I had. I planned to come back as often as possible.
Five months ago, the school doctor said the same words to me that many other people had said to me at one time or another: "You should come back next year to stay. Trust God with your debts, and come back to stay." But this time, I heard more than just the doctor--I heard the Holy Spirit whispering to my heart. "It's time." I hardly dared to believe it. I'd braced myself for a long, lonely path between now and when I finally got to Kenya long-term. How could the call to return come so suddenly? I told the Tania Centre that I would pray about it and let them know. I needed time to be sure it was actually God speaking, and not just the excitement of being in Kenya.
Three months ago, I sat down in a Starbucks with my pastor and let him know that God had confirmed that he was calling me back to the Tania Centre. I prayed about how long it should be, toyed with anything from 1 to 5 years, and settled at 3 years. Then I'd see where God wanted me at that point. My pastor gave me his support and promised to pray for me. So many others have done the same as I've spread the news to my friends and church.
Today, I find myself preparing for the biggest leap of faith that I've ever taken. By the end of this year, I'll have purged most of my possessions, packed up what's left, and moved 8,000 miles away from my friends and family. I'm obviously excited, but I have many fears: What if I get homesick? What if I get physically or mentally ill? How will I adjust to living in a culture so different from my own? I still have student debt that I need to trust to God, because being a missionary doesn't pay the bills. I still have credit card debt that I plan to have paid off by the time I leave, but it's taking a lot of hard work, and I'm relying on my God for the strength to do it. Because I know now that it's not my dream, and it can't be done on my own strength. No matter how hard I work, I won't get to Kenya if it's not God's doing. And I wouldn't want to get to Kenya if it's not God's doing.
Stepping out in faith in such a large way has made many parts of my faith much clearer to me. I used to try to fit the things Jesus said into my life, to figure out what he meant, rather than trying to fit my life into what Jesus said. I found it hard to find meaning in much of Jesus' words when I was chasing the American dream. But now, as I prepare to start a new life on the other side of the world, things Jesus said sound much more straightforward: if I want to find my life, I've got to lose it for Jesus' sake. (I can already taste the new life waiting for me as I give up my old one.) If I give up friends and family and home for Jesus, I'll be rewarded with 100 times as many in this life and the next. (There are already over 100 little people praying for me at the Tania Centre, ready to be my family there once I've left my family here.) If I stop storing up treasures on earth, and invest more in God's children, I'll have treasure in heaven. (I've already started purging some of my belongings, and the freeing feeling it gives me is indescribable.) My heart is following my treasure, and my heart is no longer with these material things. My heart is with my Father, and with the children he's calling me to love.
While there is much to do to prepare, for now, I simply ask you to pray. Pray that God would prepare me in every way possible for this big move; that he would prepare the Tania Centre for this big change for them; that he would already be working on the hearts of my future supporters; that he would make the path clear to get me where he wants me to go; that I would continue to follow his dream with his strength, and not my dream with my own strength.
