Mission

     Brown hair danced in the wind as the coldish mountain air glided across my skin. The rolling Montana hills left me captivated as I gazed into the distance soaking in every ounce of natures perfection around me. I inhaled deeply filling my lungs with fresh air, my mind over whelmed with awe. Intoxicated by my surroundings, I was suddenly overcome by the urge to take off my shoes. Following impulsive thoughts, I hurriedly unfastened my sneakers and tossed them aside in disarray. The silky green grass embraced my toes, feeling like heaven beneath my feet. There I stood, feeling at one with nature, when suddenly my trance was disrupted by an aged voice magnified from a bullhorn. “The kiddos are here!”, the camp supervisor shouted as fifty native American children squeezed off of a bus and  stampeded in my direction. A bell began to ring from the cafeteria shack built behind me. I then quickly realised the mob was racing toward the smell of hotdogs gushing from the barn doors. In shock, I stood still bare foot with my eyes transfixed upon the flock of bronze skinned youth before me. Their little fingers thrashing, grasping, and snatching up as much food as they could. Many of them shoving grub into their mouths as they grabbed another serving. Mind blown I asked the camp director why the children seemed so hungry. The elderly man then explained to me the poverty of the indian reserve my bare feet stood upon. My eyes swelled up with tears as he uttered “For most of these kids, the meals they eat this week will be the most they will eat all year round.”. As I realised the importance of the mission trip I was on, I knew at that exact moment I was where I was mint to be. Not because of the amazing surroundings of Montana, but because of the golden skin children before me.  The following week was jam-packed with teepee building, nature hikes, vacation bible school lessons, bonfires, story telling, and a lot of hair braiding. The native American girls gave me the name “BigSister”. I wore the name with pride…knowing I had made a difference in their world… even if it was just for that week.

It was this flashback in my life when I began to truly understand the importance of having a mission in life. We all want to feel needed, and in fact we ALL are needed to make a difference in this world. Since that fateful day seven years ago, I have discovered my unique mission in life. I can honestly say there is nothing more empowering than knowing that God has a plan for me, and that I am here to make a difference. There is only one you, and you are the only one can leave your unique foot print on this world.

“What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal.” – Albert Pine

What is your mission?

No matter how big or “small” it may seem… Remember… even the smallest pebble thrown into a pond makes big ripple waves.

 

Keeping your glass half full,

Faith

 

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