I went on my third mission trip. I’ve been back in the U.S. for a little over a week now. My body is recouping from an 8-hour time change, jet lag, and returning to work the very next morning after my arrival. I should probably be careful how I word all of the above to make sure that I don’t seem grieved by the process. Truth is, I’d do it all over again. It’s beautiful because I feel that way about every mission trip that I’ve taken. I mentioned in an earlier post that I wanted to be a missionary when I was an adolescent. The notion of it seemed so far-fetched in my own mind. God has proven that it wasn’t far-fetched in His.
This trip was comprised of a 3-city tour: Nairobi, Eldoret, and Matunda. Every area offered a different experience and required something different of me. I’m a social worker so I take things in differently. I’m huge on culture and always eager to learn how others live: the language, the decorum, the fashion, music, food, etc. Nairobi is the capital of Kenya. That was the first destination:
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