What If…?

What’d y’all think of my story? If you have no idea what I’m talking about, check out my previous post Catch the Chariot. So – not bad for a second effort, right? I enjoyed writing it, so I hope you enjoyed reading it. Be looking for more in the months ahead.

As I looked at the story, though, I thought about how typical it is of missional journeys, having to run to catch up with a lost world moving too fast into oblivion. Philip was able to get there, catch up, make the connection, but he had to expend a LOT of energy to do so. Yes, we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. Yes, he probably had supernatural help getting there, just as he did when it was time to leave the Ethiopian. (Read it for yourself at Acts 8:39-40. I didn’t write about that part of the story). But what if…?

What if Philip had a horse of his own? What if Peter, Paul, Silas, Barnabus, Timothy, and all the other missionaries  of the 1st century had vehicles, or modes of transportation appropriate to their terrain, to help them travel along the way? To help them Speed the Light? Imagine how many more people could have been reached if days, weeks or even months had not been needed to travel from place to place. Imagine how far and wide the Word could have spread with appropriate transportation.

And that is the whole point behind the Speed the Light program. It’s a program that teaches and encourages students, 6th through 12th grade, to be missions minded. The money raised by students and donated to Speed the Light pays for vehicles for missionaries in the U.S. and around the world.

Above I used the words, “appropriate transportation.” That’s because not everyone needs a car. When I was in Tanzania we visited many fishing villages along the shores of Lake Tanganyika. We never would have gotten there if Joy in the Harvest, the mission we worked with, had not had a boat. These villages could only be reached by boat. There were no roads. And so, there are some places that can only be reached by plane, and others by dirt bike, or even bicycle. There are places where the “road” is not more than a path through terrain that we who live in the concrete jungle would never understand.

So if you see a student fundraising, and they say it’s for Speed the Light, think about Philip trying to Catch the Chariot, think of the villages of Tanzania that were visited by the boat from Joy in the Harvest, think of all the missional possibilities and help out.

I Wrote Something

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I needed to start writing more than just babbling complaints in my journal. Well, in an effort to find some prompts to help me do that, I found a Christian writers’ site, several actually. But one in particular has drawn my attention. They hold a weekly writing challenge. I entered. I’ve been trying to wait until I know how I did before posting my entry, but I just can’t wait anymore. Besides, I’ve realized that it doesn’t matter how I do, that can be fodder for another post here. If I’m “short” of writing material, I should be seeking ways to create more.

The challenge puts out a topic each week. Once it hits, entries are accepted for one week. You must write new material, no using something you’ve already written. Length must be between 150 and 750 words. Those are the only criteria for entry. The first topic I wrote for is “I surrender all, (don’t write about the song).” So, here it is. My first ever official writing challenge entry. Hope you enjoy.

What Would You Do For Me?

“I surrender all.” I’ve said it dozens of times. Dozens upon dozens. Maybe even hundreds now. Each time there’s a call to the altar, I say it again. “I surrender all, LORD. I give it all to You. I’ll go anywhere You want. I’ll do anything You want. Just tell me.”

Yes, I’ll do whatever You want, LORD. Just don’t make me work with kids. I don’t like kids. They’re so . . . young and immature. Mission trip to Paraguay?!? Sure, I’ll go. I’ve never been out of the U.S., I don’t speak Spanish, I’ve not even been Christian for a year. Yeah, that’s way out of my comfort zone, but I’ll do it for You, God, as long as there are no children involved. By the way, what will we be doing?

Uh, what!!?? Vacation Bible School!? Isn’t that…? I love You and Your sense of humor. Let’s do this thing!!

Yes, I’ll do whatever You want, LORD. Just don’t make me work with kids. I don’t like kids. They’re so . . . young and rowdy. Mission trip to Haiti?!? Sure, I’ll go. I don’t know Creole and I’ve heard it’s a scary place full of voodoo and walking dead. It’s out of my comfort zone, but I’ll do it for You, God, as long as there are no children involved. By the way, what will we be doing?

Uh, what!!?? Helping out at any all girls orphanage, a children’s hospital and another orphanage for profoundly handicapped children? Say WHAT!??! Your sense of humor is out of this world, LORD. But I was blessed in Paraguay, so, let’s do this thing!

Yes, I’ll do whatever You want, LORD. Just don’t make me work with kids. I don’t like kids. They’re so . . . young and boisterous. Mission trip to Tanzania?! Sure, I’ll go. Isn’t that in Africa, the dark continent? I’ve never been half way around the world, I don’t speak Swahili, and I’m terrified of creepy, crawly, scary things. It’s out of my comfort zone, but I’ll do it for You, God, as long as there are no children involved. By the way, what will we be doing?

A feeding station for nearly 400 street children? Really? Anything else, like maybe something withOUT children? Yeah, like that, a destitute camp for adults. That’s much more up my alley. I can do that. But why is it that they are destitute? Oh, it’s really a leper colony, but it’s politically incorrect to call it that. That’s way outside my comfort zone. I am continually amazed at Your sense of humor, LORD. Let’s do this thing.

You’ve called me to work with the youth group at my church. You’ve called me to start a Bible study for teenagers. You’ve called me, a young in the LORD, white female, to teach pastors in India. You’ve called me to a medical mission in the war zone of Ukraine. Each time You call, I tell You, “I surrender all to You.” I’ve offered up my time, my money, my peace of mind, my safety, left my home, my family, my friends. I was even willing to give up my life if that became necessary. What more is there?

“Will you give up your dog for Me?”

Tanzania to Texas – Part 2

So now we’ve fast forwarded 5 years, and I’m getting ready to head to Tanzania for my own trip. Steve, the leader of the trip is the same guy who lead the team when Scott went. And Steve is just full of stories about his past trips to Tanzania, especially the trip with Scott.

If you’ve never been out of the country, it can be quite an experience. We, here in the U. S. really have NO idea how good we really have it. We can say we get it, but until we actually see how most of the rest of the world lives, we really don’t get it. In fact, here’s a rabbit trail for you to follow. There’s a website called globalrichlist.com Check them out. You enter your annual income and they tell you what percentile you are in the richest people in the WORLD! Pastor Scott, (yes, they same Pastor Scott who was talking right to me that first Saturday night service), used this website in one of his sermons. It’s really quite an eye opener. I’ve popped in to the site off and on over the last several years, seeing how I’ve progressed up the ladder of economic success. I haven’t done it for a couple of years, now, and this trip was humbling to say the least. I and my co-workers will quite often complain about our salary at the job we do, and for the job we do, in the environment we do it, in this country, compared to comparable jobs in other locations, in this country, we really are underpaid, BUT… When I plugged in my salary from last year, (though I did work some substantial overtime hours), I came out being in the top 1/2 percent of the richest people in the world! There are LESS THAN 30,000,000 people richer than me, IN THE WHOLE WORLD! I have NO right to complain about ANYTHING!

Okay, back to the experience of being out of the country. When you go on a trip to a place where most of the people make only about a dollar a day, (YES, I typed that correctly – just one dollar per day!), it can be a bit overwhelming. Everything you see and do is a new experience. And according to Steve, with every new experience, Scott would rub his hand over his crew cut hair and exclaim, “I can’t believe I’m in Africa, man!” Everywhere they went, everything they did, every new thing they saw, “I can’t believe I’m in Africa, man!”

Well! With the relationship I’d had with Scott for several years, now, and Steve being an excellent videographer, we really couldn’t help ourselves. Since I usually wear my hair fairly short anyway, I had gotten it cut extra short for the trip to make care easier while we were there. I was a natural! We filmed clips of me imitating Scott in all sorts of different situations! It was quite a lot of fun, and even more fun when we got home and played the clip for him. (I’m sorry, even though I’m richer than 99.5 % of the world, I’m not rich enough to pay for video privileges on my blog!) 6248_1169738771136_5375091_n But here is a still photo of me doing one of the clips, sans head rub. You can probably tell that the kids of Kiziba village have NO CLUE what I’m saying or why I’m saying it, but they are very curious about this muzungu (white – I think I have the spelling right) woman and what she’s doing.

And all this story, now, earlier than planned because Scott came to my work last week and dropped a bomb on me. It’s nothing truly devastating. In the overall scheme of things it’s really no big deal. But it broke my heart. He and his wife are moving away. Yes, to Texas, how’d you guess!? It’s not like we have really stayed all that close. We don’t hang out anymore, since I quit going to the bar. (Yes, yet another story for yet another day!) I’ve moved on to a different church. But we are still family in the eyes of God. Scott and Marilyn are my brother and sister in Christ. They were there for me during a really tough period in my life, and got me through A LOT! It just hurts to know that they won’t be just up the road anymore.

Scott, Marilyn, you have been great friends. I know you will continue to be, though from a distance. I will miss your presence very much. Love ya!

Tanzania to Texas – Part 1

Sorry it’s been longer than I’d planned between writings. I was studying for my final. But I’m back now. And I had said in an earlier post that I’d tell you the “I’m in Africa, man,” story later. I had thought it would be later than this, but something’s come up and I think now would be an appropriate time.

It all started in the Spring of 2004. (WOW! just realized it’s been 10 years! What a long, strange trip it’s been!) I was sitting at the bar when a friend, Scott, came in and started talking about going on a trip to Africa. He was in a quandary because they told him he needed to fund raise 1/3 of the cost of the trip. He said he could afford the whole amount on his own and felt bad asking people for money to pay for his “vacation.” “How do I do it, anyway?” he asked me.

I had just completed a fund raising effort for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, so I told him, “Make yourself up a letter and talk to EVERYONE you meet about what you’re doing. You never know when someone may slide a five down the bar and say, here, take this with you.” As I said it, I actually did slide a five down the bar to him. He laughed and said, “Yeah, I get it,” as he slid the five back to me. “But Scott, you never know when someone may slide a five down the bar to you and say ‘Here, take this with you.'” Again, he said, “Yeah, I get it,” as he slid it back to me. “NO, SCOTT, you never know when someone will slide a five down the bar and say “HERE TAKE THIS WITH YOU!”” He finally got the message and took my $5.

When he got home, I was the only one at the bar who wanted to know about what he really did while he was in Tanzania. Each time he tried to tell me, we’d get interrupted by someone asking if he saw elephants or monkeys. This went on for a few weeks and was getting quite annoying. (I did, however, get the story of how my $5 paid for a “female operation” for one of the women in the area. Yes, that’s right, just $5 paid for the entire procedure!) Finally, one day, Scott came in and as we were having the conversation, or the attempt at conversation, he told me that his church was having a free spaghetti dinner that Saturday and he was going to talk about his trip. I refused because I didn’t do church. There was no way he was getting me in those doors. We’d get around, eventually, to getting the story out at the bar. We tried again, and just as he was getting into it, someone ELSE came and asked about elephants and monkeys. I gave in. After all, it was just dinner and his story, uninterrupted, right!?!

So, Saturday I went to his house and got in the car with him and his wife, and off we went. It felt REALLY strange walking in to this place. But, there was no major earthquake and fire didn’t burst forth from the bowels of the earth as I entered. It was just like walking into any other building. But! Once we were there, once I was trapped with no way to escape, he dropped the other shoe – right on my head! “Oh, by the way, we have a Saturday night service and Pastor Scott is going to speak first.” Many unkind words, sprinkled liberally with expletives swirled in my head, but I was inside a church (semi-voluntarily for the first time in 40 years) so I couldn’t say any of them. I’m sure the look I gave Scott told him what I was thinking!

There I was, in the sanctuary of a church, sitting through a church service that I had no desire to sit through. And then it happened, just as Scott said it would, even though more expletives swirled through my head when he said it. “Don’t worry, Pastor Scott is really cool and you’re going to think he’s talking right to you.” And so he was. He was talking to me and he was making direct eye contact and his words were shooting into me and straight into my heart. And the tears started flowing, and my heart was breaking. To this day I could not tell you what he was actually talking about, but I know it was meant just for me. And afterward, we ate and Scott talked about Tanzania, and people and names and faces spun around me and it was all a big whirlwind.

All I really knew after that was that I had to go back there again. And I really didn’t know how I was going to do it, because there was NO WAY I wanted my family knowing that I was going to church! But there was no way I could stop myself from going. It would be over 5 years before I missed a Sunday from that first time. You might even say that I went religiously! (Sorry, it was there, I had to use it.) And I learned and I grew in my relationship with the LORD.

Next – The Final Part to Psalm 116


This picture is me and Robin and little Adeana worshipping during a practice at First United Methodist Church of Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania. Adeana was so cute, coming up and simply taking my hand as I danced to the LORD. Robin couldn’t resist joining in! It was a truly magical moment.

I’ve now had several hours of frustration as I HAD started writing the next portion of post, since I couldn’t figure out how to keep going after I got the Psalm to display in columns, But it’s disappeared. I know I saved it to draft, a couple of times, actually, but I can’t figure out where it’s gone. So, now that I’ve lost my train of thought and I should be going to bed, I figured to sit here and write some more.

Okay, so I didn’t write anymore, I went to sleep. But I saved this to draft and IT didn’t disappear. I’m really disappointed. What I had written was really heart-felt and it was good,(even if I do say it myself), and it can’t be recreated. So, I guess I’ll just take a few minutes to get coffeed up and prayed up and I’ll begin again, and I’ll simply have to make it better.

SO – Why Psalm 116? It’s just the Psalm that struck me most about how I felt when Papa God (took me a long time to be able to cal Him that – more later) reached down and pulled me up out of the miry pit that was dragging me down to death. According to James B Coffman in his “Commentary on Psalm 116,” this psalm is considered by ancient Hebrew tradition to be written by King Hezekiah after the LORD saved him from death. You can read that story in Isaiah 38 if you’d like to know more about how Hezekiah’s pleas for more time after God told him he was going to die gained him 15 more years. And, while I don’t know how many more years I’ll have due to the salvation of the LORD, I know that I would be dead by now if He hadn’t saved me. My weight, my alcohol and drug consumption, my inability to hold gainful employment due to those things, all added up to a recipe for disaster.

As I contemplated my baptism and what it meant to me, declaring to all the world, out loud, that I have decided to follow Jesus, it hit me that this psalm not only expressed what I needed to do, it said it TWICE, for added emphasis. “I will pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all His people.” (verses 14 & 18). This is a psalm of thanksgiving, yet more than simply giving thanks, it’s an acknowledgement that God answered a plea for help. And I had to let people KNOW that I was thankful, and that God had answered, and because of that, I get to live and love and serve Him for the rest of my days. And I had to let the people of Gungu UMC in Kigoma, Tanzania know that their faithfulness to God was making an impact halfway around the world. They needed to know that their prayers and their devotion changed the life of someone they didn’t even know existed. This is something we all need to be reminded of, we never know when something we do will affect someone who will “pay it forward” so to speak. It’s called the butterfly effect. My friend Robin, one of the others on this trip to Kigoma and now fulltime in missions with Wycliffe Bible Translators, wrote eloquently on this phenomenon. You can find her article in the August 2011 issue of Today’s Christian Woman.

I had to let the world know that, because the LORD listened to me, actually heard and paid heed to my pleas, (hmmmm, sounds like the literary device called synthetic parallelism I learned about in class, where a second phrase completes or supplements the first as seen in verses 1 & 2 of this psalm – yes, this is still about my class!), I would call upon His name, love, honor and serve Him for the rest of my life.

There is soooooooo much more I could go into here, (such as the 8 things we should “render to the LORD” (v.12) for all He has benefitted us: love, praise, worship, fear, our bodies, service, gratitude and payment of our vows – identified by Warren E. Berkley in “Something in Return”, the Expository Files, October 1996), but if I write it all here, I won’t have anything to write about next time. (Not really, I’ll never run out of material, but it feels like a good place to leave you for now. Thanks for reading!)

Okay – Finally Got Here – Psalm 116

Okay, here it is, finally! Psalm 116 in English (English Standard Version (ESV)) and Swahili. I apologize for the formatting errors, but I've never written html code before, and I've never written code when I wasn't under the influence of mind altering substances before. (It's been a while since I wrote code of any type.) So, I'll let you read the Psalm, and I catch ya on the other side. (Actually, I'm not going to mess with things right now, so I'll continue writing in the next post. I can't seem to make this do what I want yet, so I'll play with it another time.)
1 I love the LORD, because he has heard my voice and my pleas for mercy.
2 Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on him as long as I live.
3 The snares of death encompassed me; the pangs of Sheol laid hold on me; I suffered distress and anguish.
4 Then I called on the name of the LORD: “O LORD, I pray, deliver my soul!”
5 Gracious is the LORD, and righteous; our God is merciful.
6 The LORD preserves the simple; when I was brought low, he saved me.
7 Return, O my soul, to your rest; for the LORD has dealt bountifully with you.
8 For you have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling;
9 I will walk before the LORD in the land of the living.
10 I believed, even when I spoke, “I am greatly afflicted”;
11 I said in my alarm, “All mankind are liars.”
12 What shall I render to the LORD for all his benefits to me?
13 I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the LORD,
14 I will pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all his people.
15 Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints.
16 O LORD, I am your servant; I am your servant, the son of your maidservant. You have loosed my bonds.
17 I will offer to you the sacrifice of thanksgiving and call on the name of the LORD.
18 I will pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all his people,
19 in the courts of the house of the LORD, in your midst, O Jerusalem. Praise the LORD!

Ninampenda BWANA kwa
maana amesikia sauti yangu,
amesikia kilio
changu ili anihurumie.
Kwa sababu amenitegea sikio lake,
nitamwita siku zote za maisha yangu.
Kamba za mauti zilinizunguka,
maumivu makuu ya kuzimu yalinipata,
nikalemewa na taabu na huzuni.
Ndipo nikaliitia jina la BWANA :
‘‘Ee BWANA, niokoe!’’
BWANA ni mwenye neema na haki,
Mungu wetu ni mwingi wa huruma.
BWANA huwalinda wanyenyekevu,
nilipokuwa katika shida kubwa, aliniokoa.
Ee nafsi yangu, tulia tena,
kwa kuwa BWANA amekuwa mwema
Kwako wewe, Ee BWANA,
umeniokoa nafsi yangu na mauti,
macho yangu kutokana na machozi,
miguu yangu kutokana na kujikwaa,
ili niweze kutembea mbele ya BWANA,
katika nchi ya walio hai.
Niliamini, kwa hiyo nilisema,
‘‘Mimi nimeteseka sana.’’
Katika taabu yangu nilisema,
‘‘Wanadamu wote ni waongo.’’
Nimrudishie BWANA nini
kwa wema wake wote alionitendea?
Nitakiinua kikombe cha wokovu
na kulitangaza jina la BWANA .
Nitazitimiza nadhiri zangu kwa BWANA
mbele za watu wake wote.
Kifo cha watakatifu kina thamani
machoni pa BWANA .
Ee BWANA, hakika mimi ni mtumishi wako,
mimi ni mtumishi wako,
mwana wa mjakazi
umeniweka huru toka minyororo yangu.
Nitakutolea dhabihu ya kukushukuru
na kuliita jina la BWANA .
Nitazitimiza nadhiri zangu kwa BWANA
mbele za watu wake wote,
katika nyua za nyumba ya BWANA,
katikati yako, Ee Yerusalemu.
Msifuni BWANA .

Psalm 116 – Part 2

So, I’d been thinking about baptism, and getting dunked completely like Jesus did. The symbolism and significance are that the person you were goes down into the water and dies, and when you come up, you are a new person, having symbolically died with Christ and been risen in resurrection as He rose. Your sin is washed away. God forgives all, and you begin life anew. That thought was very appealing to me. Those who knew me before will say that my conversion was nearly of Saul to Paul proportions. I never saw it as QUITE that epic, but I will admit that it was pretty drastic.

The decision to do a full dunk was made, but then came the “problem” of logistics. Where, when, how and by whom? The church I attended at the time didn’t have a full dunk baptismal, and while there was (and still is) a nearby river, it’s not the cleanest. A local, or someone’s private pool just didn’t seem right. And then the answer came. The opportunity came to make the same mission trip to Tanzania as the friend who started this whole journey for me in the first place. I thought, “How cool would it be to get baptized in Lake Tanganyika? In Africa, man!” (Sorry, “I’m in Africa, man,” is a semi-private joke. Maybe someday that story will get told here.)

During the planning sessions for the trip to Tanzania, I voiced my wish to get baptized there and bring my whole “coming to Christ” journey full circle. My thought was that Lowell, the guy who heads up the ministry we were working with, would baptize me in Lake Tanganyika and it would be like all those really cool baptism scenes you see in the movies. — It didn’t turn out that way.

The way it ended up looking, visually, wasn’t really much to speak of, at least not compared to the idea I had in my head. But the way it was SPIRITUALLY, now that’s a whole different thing! As I said in Part 1, that little church in Kigoma, Tanzania was the only United Methodist church in Tanzania with a full dunk baptismal, but it wasn’t getting used. I don’t know if the people didn’t really understand baptism, or if they were just afraid of being first, or if it was making a public display, or what, but they weren’t getting baptized. So Lowell asked me if I would do it in the church during a regular Sunday service so that they could see what it was really like. As cool as the lake would have been, this was cooler, to be able to lead by example!

But then I realized, as cool as that was, the group of people watching would be a whole lot different, and a WHOLE LOT larger than I had planned. And now I was being an example and not just having an intimate little gathering of mission team buddies and God. There would be a couple hundred “Intimate” strangers there too. And I had to publicly declare why I was doing this – to people who don’t speak English! I prayed on it and I prayed on it, and it finally came to me, Psalm 116. It was me.


And so one that day, with Lowell and the leader of our mission team down with a SEVERE case of food poisoning and unable to attend, I stood before the congregation of Gungu United Methodist Church and made my Public Declaration that I am a follower of Jesus Christ by reading Psalm 116 – in Swahili!!!

Psalm 116 – Part 1

So now that you have a little bit of background I can move to the middle, about the power of Psalm 116 in my life. And this is sort of the crux of my current assignment, relating something I’ve learned in my current class, Old Testament Survey, to something relevant now. As I wracked my brain ablout what to do, realizing I couldn’t really use what I had been working on when I tried to take the class at a different school, I was just coming up blank. Then I started thinking about how I really got here, to the place where I have to do such a project, and what REALLY affected me on the path. (And was it from the Old Testament!?) And I thought of my baptism.

I was sprinkle baptized as an infant, though I had to go back to the church where it happened because when I asked my Mom about it, she couldn’t remember. They found me in “The Big Book,” and even gave me a certification that it had happened. But now, in my new life in Christ, I felt the need to publically profess my faith and get the full dunk. While there is great contoversy, the form of baptism really doesn’t matter, in fact, in extreme situations, it doesn’t even need to happen. Consider the thief on the cross next to Jesus at His crucifiction. The man said, “Remember me,” and Jesus told him that by the faith of his statement he would reside in Heaven.

OK, so that was a baby bunny trail, now back to my point, a public declaration of my faith. I felt I wanted to do it, I felt I needed to do it, but where and when, exactly, were questions spinning in my mind. At my home church, the church that my Grandmother (yes, the Gramma from post number one) was brought up in, and her parents and their parents as well? (That whole story is for a different post, but quite a story it is!!) Or someplace else, sometime else?

Alright, I guess I need to go down another bunny trail to give you enough background to understand, really, where I was at during this time. You see, the whole reason I was even at this church was because a drinking buddy of mine went on a mission trip to Africa. It was conversations with him about where he went and what he did and why, that made me start questioning where I was at in life, and what was I really doing and why. And it was through those conversations, both before he left and after he got back that I started thinking that maybe I was missing out on something. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more “out there” for me. And in one of those conversations he talked about this little church that they went to in the town of Kigoma, Tanzania. It was one room, but full of happy, loving people. One of the things they did on their trip was to encourage the people of that church, worshipped with them, prayed with them, sang and danced with them. And it was amazing to me that this guy that I had known since high school would do something like that, and I was intrigued.

So now, we take a giant leap forward. Don’t worry, I’ll backtrack and fill in a lot of the gaps I’m creating, but this tme, rather than hopping down a bunny trail, we just got sucked into a worm hole and we’re catepulting ahead in time. It’s five years later, and I’m in Kigoma, Tanzania. As I said above, I’d been thinking about getting baptized so I could make my public declaration of being a follower of Christ, but I didn’t know by whom, when or where. Then it struck me, since it was my buddy’s trip to Tanzania that started my on my path, wouldn’t it be cool to get baptized in Africa?!! As I talked about it with the guy who runs the ministry we went to help, (Joy in the Harvest), he thought it would be a great idea. That little, one room church in Kigoma just happens to be the only United Methodist church in Tanzania with a full dunk baptismal!! And so my baptism was planned to be a part of that mission trip….

To be continued….