About a year ago, I was introduced to the Invisible Children campaign by a friend. This campaign was started by a group of college students who went to Uganda, Africa, to do a documentary of the war. I became very involved in the campaign, raising awareness and money to promote peace in Uganda. The burden on my heart for these people was tremendous.
I found a mission trip to Uganda, coincidentally, in December of 2006. I was bursting with excitement; nothing was going to stop me, or so I thought. The trip in itself was $995, not bad for two weeks in Africa, but this didn’t include airfare. The first quote I got on my plane ticket was $1500. That brought my total up to about $2500…much more than I ever expected. But I wasn’t worried, I serve Jehovah Jireh, God our provider…right? About a week after that I received an email from my travel agent of the actual price…$2200. I, quite simply, broke down and cried. I thought, “There is no way I can pay for that.” And I was right…I couldn’t. And looking back, that’s exactly what God wanted, me to depend on him.
Over the next few months, I got my passport, shots, and I was ready to go. I was to fly out of Houston to Washington DC and meet the rest of my group there. When I stepped off the plane in DC, reality finally hit me. People had been telling me for months that what I was doing was crazy, and I was starting to believe it. I
had thought, up until this point that this was going to be the most amazing adventure ever. Going to another country, meeting all kinds of different people, learning about an entirely different culture…exciting right? Well over the next few weeks, I learned what mission work is really like. It’s hard, It’s uncomfortable, It’s exhausting. I camped for three days in a tent, and it didn’t stop raining once. I experienced poverty that caused parents to beg me to take their children, with me, back to America.
In thinking that this was going to be fun, I was completely wrong. And for some reason, during this trip, I couldn’t seem to keep it all together. Whether it was the lack of communication with family, culture shock, spiritual warfare, or all three I don’t think a day passed when a tear didn’t fall from my eye. And everyone else seemed to be keeping it together.
I left Uganda even more confused than when I left home. “God why did you call me to this, if You are going to call me to full-time missions, You’re going to have to yell pretty loud.” But in returning home I realized that God didn’t call me to Uganda for myself, it had absolutely nothing to do with me. What a humbling experience! Instead He used my story to touch others, and why He chose me I will never know. I received many emails from others about how God used
my story to speak to them. My aunt, who felt called to missions at a young age, had never followed God’s call, but is now learning Spanish so she can minister to the people of Mexico. A women, who I don’t even know, told me about her son, who was learning about missions, from my experience.
While this was the hardest two weeks of my life, I would do it all over again. While our team was there, over 500 came to know Christ and 9 churches were planted. 46 were baptized, which I hear is a low number for them on a typical Sunday. God is moving in Uganda, and He chose to use me, I am forever changed.
Nicole Sutton
New Caney, Texas
2 comments:
You never cease to amaze me, Kiddo! I couldn't get through reading that without crying. I remember feeling very similar feelings while in Africa 20 years ago. It helped me that I was there longer because then I was able to form relationships and gain a better and wider understanding of their culture. I feel in love with the people. I got a ton of marriage proposals. I probably should have accepted one, huh???
YOU, dear one, are a blessing to our family! I love you with all of my heart!
Supposed to be "fell" in love. Oops!
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