It all started when I took my English exam last semester. There was a story on the exam about Guatemala. Those few paragraphs started to bring back all the memories of my mission trip there this past summer.
I remembered the first time we pulled up to the Village of the 46, and feeling like an alien who had just stepped foot onto another planet. I remember the questioning stares we got. I remember the distinct (AWFUL) smell of the bathrooms in the 46. I remember the Skype call that wouldn’t work with my mom. I remember the emotional goodbyes I said to those people. I remember driving away for the last time and watching kids chase our bus.
But, then I remember the good. The kids I spent two weeks with and fell in love with. The beauty of Guatemala. The devotions I had with my friends. The new friends I made. The joy I saw on the faces of kids everyday when we came to work.
I started to remember everything I loved about this country. I started to question if it was the right thing to actually go to Uganda. I was wondering if I should be going back to Guatemala with all of my friends.
I looked to God. He became my rock. After praying and listening to God, he reminded me Uganda is where he wants me to spend my summer. I was reminded there was a reason I was accepted on the Uganda trip.
I may miss Guatemala, but I know at this point in my life, Uganda is where I’m supposed to be going.