The Trip I Wasn't Supposed to Lead

In 2010, I had the opportunity to serve on a mission team in Liberia, West Africa. I didn’t feel qualified, but my heart had longed to serve somewhere on that continent for as long as I could remember.

My dear friend, Lorie, would be the one leading the trip. That made my sense of feeling unqualified a little less daunting. Lorie is a petite woman but a spiritual giant.

In addition to not feeling up to the task of serving on this particular team — one packed full of godly women far more capable than I am — I also had never flown across the pond before, let alone to the vast African continent. I had been out of the country a few times, but it was never to places that involved crossing the width of an entire ocean.

Nevertheless, I prayed about it and ultimately agreed to go. One other small hurdle to overcome — the trip would cost $4,000, and we were all responsible for paying our own way, even if it meant fundraising to make it happen.

When we were about six weeks out from leaving, I received news that both elated and petrified me. Lorie found out she was pregnant, after seven years of unexplained infertility! When she shared the news with me, I was beyond thrilled for her to be adding to her sweet family. I hadn’t even thought about her role on the mission trip, and what that would look like in reference to her newly discovered pregnancy. It didn’t hit me, until she spoke —

(Most of these words are my paraphrase, but the ones I won’t forget her literally speaking are in quotes.)

Leah, I am so excited about this pregnancy! I’m still shocked that this is actually happening. But, in spite of my joy, I’m a little disappointed I won’t be able to lead the mission trip anymore. At my current age, this pregnancy is considered more high-risk, and I don’t want to take the chance of something happening to me physically and be half-way across the world without access to the medical care we have here.

I’m sure you can picture the change in my countenance about now. I was disappointed that we wouldn’t be able to go to Liberia, but I completely understood Lorie’s legitimate concerns. I had waited this long to go to Africa; I could keep waiting.

I didn’t have to wait as long as I thought. In her next breath, Lorie continued speaking. While I won’t be able to lead the trip anymore, that doesn’t mean it’s not going to still happen as planned. Unfortunately, a few of the women have had to back out for various reasons, but there are still a few of you able to go. “And — I would like for you to lead the trip.”

What in the world? Me? I couldn’t possibly be hearing her correctly. She knows I’ve never been on an overseas mission trip. For that matter, as I’ve already established, I’ve never even been overseas at all. And — there was the money thing — I still was shy of the $4,000 requirement, even with my fundraising efforts.

In the spirit of brevity, I’ll jump to the point. Lorie was having none of my excuses. I agreed to pray about it for a day or two, but, deep within, I already knew. I would go and serve in her place as the trip leader. Lorie knew it too.

The fundraising story could be a post all of its own, but let me just share this much. Yes, God did provide the $4,000. Right down to the last dollar and on the last day. Literally, the day the money was due, I was short $500. That morning, I received an unexpected $100 gift from a family member. Within the same hour, some friends from church stopped by my office at work, indicating they wanted to help with the expenses of the trip. They asked if I had met the goal yet, and when I shared that I had not, they asked how short I was of the $4,000. I shared that I still needed $400.

You guessed it. They provided the last $400. I now had no excuses to prevent me from flying to Africa in just a few short weeks.

That particular June day in 2010, I said goodbye to my daughter and husband, and I boarded a plane in Charlotte, NC. I was on my way to Newark, NJ to catch my international flight and meet the other two women I’d be serving with in Liberia. Yes, two! There would only be a total of three of us going now, but we were still going!

Before I tell you the end of this part of the story (there’s so much more I could share and will another time), I need to explain what we were going to be doing on this trip. We were leading five days of conferences for Liberian women all over their little country. In addition to teaching them biblical truths, we were going to spend the afternoon pampering them in make-shift spa sessions. Many of these women had been badly abused as a result of cultural norms. We were there to be the hands and feet of Jesus, not just in words but also in actions.

My only problem at this point was that I had no idea what I was to speak on. None whatsoever! As a type A, very organized woman who likes to have everything well planned out in advance, this was deeply troubling to me. I finally settled it in my mind that I would figure that out on the long plane trip over there. Except, I didn’t.

I don’t know if it was nerves, or the lack of sleep, or perhaps even the distracting mixture of pungent smells I wasn’t prepared for on the last leg of our trip — whatever the reasons, I landed in Liberia late one evening, the evening before our first conference, and I still had nothing.

I can almost feel that level of anxiety rising in me all over again as I recall the panic I felt that first night in Africa. To make matters even more challenging, I didn’t have a computer with me to type on, as it would have done me no good then. There was no internet, no printer to print out my notes, even if I had typed them. All I had was my Bible, a pen, and a notepad. Turns out, it was enough.

Suddenly, my spiritual eyes could see clearly. God began showing me in His Word what I was to teach on, and I started writing. I wrote furiously, but I handwrote everything. No clean typed notes. No fancy binder to contain them. No outline to help with my delivery. Just God’s message to His Liberian daughters in my handwritten chicken-scratch, that I would be presenting in a few short hours.

God taught me about one of His Old Testament judges I knew by name but had never really spent much time digging into his story — Gideon. In studying Gideon, I could sense this was not just a message for the Liberian women — this was also a message for me.

God first appeared to Gideon when he was threshing wheat within the confines of a cave in hopes the Midianites would not discover them and attack and ravage their crops again. Not only had Gideon and his fellow Israelites had about enough of the devastating Midianite attacks, but apparently God also determined they had been punished long enough for their disobedience to Him — an oppression that had lasted seven years.

As He appeared to Gideon that historic day, through one of His angels, the angel greeted him by calling him “mighty warrior.” God’s use of that term when greeting Gideon is significant. He asked Gideon to prepare his men because he was going to lead his army into battle against the dreaded Midianites. And — not only that — the Israelites would win!

Gideon began offering up excuse after excuse why he couldn’t possibly be expected to do such a task: he was just a simple wheat thresher, he was from the weakest clan in his tribe, and he considered himself the least in his family. But, but, but… he seemed to have all the reasons in the world why God must be making a mistake.

Yet — God never makes mistakes. He had already pronounced him a mighty warrior, though he hadn’t stepped one foot into the battle. God was making Gideon into what He was preparing him to be — a victor, a champion, courageous, a leader — a MIGHTY WARRIOR.

Similarly, when the first mention of the mission trip to Liberia came up, I also didn’t feel qualified. I had never traveled that far; I didn’t have the money; there were others far more qualified than me; I certainly didn’t have the leadership qualities to take on that role either.

God didn’t want me relying on my own strength. It wasn’t about what I could do; it was about what He could and would do through me.

Gideon did defeat the Midianites, with an army of only 300 men.

I did give the message God gave me in Africa after using only a Bible, pen, and notepad.

The lessons I learned through all of that, from the time I first felt unqualified to even consider going and through every step of the journey — God was always there, working as only He does. He never gave me what I needed ahead of time, but He always gave me what I needed in His perfect time.

It would be less than a year later that I would lose my husband to suicide. Six years after that, I would lose another husband to a sudden illness. Additional tragic events have happened in my life since then. And yet — each time, God would remind me of Gideon. He would remind me that He was also making me into a mighty warrior, even if I couldn’t yet see it. Sometimes, my own disobedience would delay the victory. Other times, His mercy was immediate.

Whatever gripped you before, you were a mighty warrior.

Whatever has hold of you right now, you are a mighty warrior.

And when the next hard thing comes — and it will — you will still be a mighty warrior.