Mission Trip Lessons by Yvonne M. Morgan
Several years back, my husband and I visited Kenya on a mission trip. The trip consisted of only three of us, which made for easy planning. We planned many meetings for strategic planning purposes and discussion of future help for the area. Unfortunately, it was the rainy season, and our plans included visiting a rural village to pick up some handmade baskets for a project. So, to reach the area, we needed to travel down dirt roads. As the vehicle bounced down the narrow lane, I noticed that the mud grew deeper and deeper. I started worrying as we slowly bobbed along the rugged path. Soon, the tires sunk deeper and after a few more minutes, they just spun and spun. Finally, we realized the van had become stuck. And, here in the middle of rural Kenya, we had no cell service. We got out of the truck to evaluate our situation, which appeared dire to me. I had no idea how we would get out of this one. My AAA service could not help us here. So instead, I used the form of communication that never fails me. I prayed for God’s help.
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As we stood and looked at the van in despair, I noticed a man walking toward us. He stared uneasily at the wazungu (Swahili for white people) stuck in the mud. Yes, God to the rescue. But then he left as quickly as he came, and my heart sank a little as the sweat dripped down my back. Soon, I plopped down on a dry grassy patch as misery swamped my soul. The area’s isolation caused my heart to beat faster as I pictured us dying in this spot. And with only three of us, we had no good options for splitting up to get help because any plan would require someone to be alone in the bush. I prayed and begged God to rescue us. After a while, I detected a rustling in the bushes down the lane. My heart pounded harder, and my palms grew damp as visions of roaming lions popped into my head. I decided that this might be the end for us. Then, the man I saw earlier stepped out of the bushes again. And I noticed several other men standing behind him, and fear filled my soul. As they gathered around us, I prayed again for God’s protection. Next, I noticed one man raise his hand, and I ducked for cover. I realized he had motioned for one of us to get behind the wheel of our truck. And then the entire group started pushing. Bill got behind the wheel, and I walked to the back of the vehicle to help. I quickly sank to my ankles in the muck as I took my place on the bumper. It took us a while, but finally, we freed our little truck from its mud shackles. We cheered and hooted with our rescuers, and I offered thanks to God for sending these strangers to help and asked for forgiveness for doubting Him as we waited.
