Re-blogging an old post only because I’ve been thinking so much about my mission trips and how much I miss them.
The memory I am about to narrate came to me out of the blue as I was making my way back home this evening. It took me back a couple of years – 2007 maybe 2008, I’m not too sure. I remember sitting on board a tiny little bus, my friends and I making our way down a narrow dirt road towards the Bible College we were going to be staying at for the next ten days. We were in a little village on the outskirts of Secunderabad, India – to work with the local kids and minister to their families.
I was with a group of people I had travelled with often, we had the most amazing experiences working together in villages, volunteering at rehabilitation centres, teaching children in prisons – and each experience left us more and more enriched.
That afternoon as we sang and laughed and listened to…
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