I suppose I ought to be more careful about labeling myself. Apparently when God heard me say the word “Bohemian,” He took it very literally.
I’m leaving America.
Again.
Don’t worry. I bought a round-trip ticket. I’ll be coming back after three weeks. Ish.
I’m going to Kenya. Adventures in Missions (AIM) has a two-year team working in an IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) camp over there. Clint Bokelman (head of the long-term department at AIM and the man whose family let me stay in their house while I was in Georgia last fall) is flying over to see how the team’s doing, and he said I could come along too. (Thanks, Clint!! You're worldwide invitations are always appreciated.)
I wasn’t really thinking it was feasible until I asked God about it. And He said, “See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut (Rev. 3:8).” And I could see the door all big and glowing in my mind with the angels singing around it. “Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” Just like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.
So, that was it.
I got on the computer and looked up airplane tickets. (This all happened last night and this morning, by the way.) Plane tickets to Africa usually run around $2,500. I didn’t have half that. I decided to make things even more difficult on God’s end and search for flights out of Grand Island. In all my years, I’ve never once flown out of Grand Island before. The first ticket that popped up from Grand Island, Nebraska, to Nairobi, Kenya, was $1,300. That’s with tax.
If I didn’t know there was a God before, I most certainly do now.
I bought the plane ticket this morning. I’m visiting an IDP camp for the first time after all the stories and pictures I’ve seen from other people who have gone. And then I have a couple extra weeks, and I might take a flight over to Uganda or Rwanda, since I’m so close, and then the DRC is right next door . . . But I don’t really know. Forty-eight hours ago, I never could have told you I’d be going to Kenya. I’m alright with letting God plan the itinerary. Apparently, He’s pretty good at it.
Besides, I think this is what God’s Bohemians are supposed to do.
. . . Oh, and did I forget to mention that I’m leaving on Sunday? Not this Sunday but the one after that. Yeah, the one that’s eleven days from now. I know. Sudden, huh? I would have told you earlier, but I really didn’t know. If you want to keep track of me more than a week or two at a time, you might need to ask God about it and not me.
