In my previous post, I wrote a little about the African Adventure I had smack-dab in the middle of the Ebola outbreak.
It’s hard to even scratch the surface of the trip’s impact, and on the plane ride home I remember thinking I’d learned a lot, but was grateful the learning was winding down now, allowing me much-needed process time.
Several months ago, in the height of the Ebola outbreak, I was scheduled to go to Africa to help women and children in need. Many people in my life, including family and doctors, strongly urged me not to go. They said it was not safe and that I could go a different time. They said it wasn’t worth the risk.
I disagreed. Because Africans need to know that their country is more than a medical label or deadly virus. That they are valuable and deserve care, regardless of danger. That they are worth the risk.
I read a piece of scripture in my devotion time recently on a cold, winter morning. Steaming hot chai, and these words from John 15: 1-8, brought much-needed warmth to my heart:
For someone who communicates for a living, you’d think I would have considered blogging before. Especially since, fun fact: I have been journaling almost every day of my life since I was 8 years old. That’s a lot of journals. Maybe 100. And quite frankly, it’s becoming a logistical issue in my apartment.
Hence, this blog. My hope and prayer is that the blog will be a blessing to others and a blessing to me. Because we all have thoughts to share, and we all need encouragement. Is it a little weird that any human on the planet can read my thoughts? Sure. But it would be worth it if even one person felt inspired by my honest posts, or encouraged by my failures or lessons learned.