Reflections of a new missionary
47 days ago, my feet hit a soil I never imagined in my wildest dreams they would. For one thing, a few years ago, I had never heard of this country (or if I had, it was in with the rest of forgotten geography files in my aging mind). As we descended into Port Moresby, the capital of Papua New Guinea, I felt sick. If it had been nausea from the plane it would have been easy to treat, but this was the feeling of being out of control of my future and a complete loss of everything I knew as “normal.” What was worse? I had chosen it. This wasn’t something that just ‘happened’ to me, but it was preceded by months of planning, fundraising to get here, and the liquidation of over 80% of my family’s worldly possessions. A few years ago, Justin and I both read “Radical” by David Platt. I have to say that this book set the stage for many discussions and ideas we had in our marriage of what we might do with our lives. Then, in a random string of events, we ended up traveling overseas to ado...