Someone I know went on her first mission trip recently.  I cannot wait to talk to her this week…to see the fire in her eyes, the passion that has been unlocked.

I haven’t been on a mission trip in several years.  I am way overdue.  There is something inside of me that comes alive when I am on a mission trip.  I know who I am when I am on a trip.  I know my purpose, my mission, what I’ve been created to do.

I love other cultures.  I love learning about the people, the customs, the food.  I love introducing people to my culture.

I thank God that He created all of us differently.  How boring would life be if we were all the same?  Whenever I come into contact with a culture that is different than my own, I walk away enriched.  I learn more about myself–what I have to offer and what I have to learn.

You don’t have to travel outside the borders of your own country for this experience.  Some of my most potent life-lessons occurred when I was volunteering in North Camden.  I learned faith, love, security in one of the most dangerous few blocks in the US.  I saw kids full of joy and hope in houses that were barely inhabitable.  Right now, I work in one of the most affluent areas in NJ, if not in the US, and I don’t see the same amount of hope or joy.

Something is brewing deep within me.  I don’t have a name for it…but I do know that something big is about to happen.

For now, however, I know that I need a mission as much as I need oxygen.