I have always been intrigued about doing a missionary trip, but didn't, and wouldn't, go by myself. One night while working at the hospital, back in 2003, another nurse mentioned that she was going on a missionary trip. I was busy doing my paperwork (I'm a nurse and there's ALWAYS lots of paperwork) and quipped in without hesitation, I'll go with you! Can I?
Well, next thing you know we're discussing where we wanted to go. There are many places in need and many places to go. After debating Nicaragua, Honduras, Haiti, Africa, and others it was decided upon Honduras noted for being the poorest country in the world.
Meanwhile we're trying to raise funds for our trip as they are not cheap. I fell far short and ended up paying for about half of mine, but I digress.
The plan was that we were going to go to Honduras in August of 2004. I live in Florida. Now as most of our nation can recall Florida made national news that summer because of the numerous hurricanes that hit here. And the last one (don't remember the name, perhaps Jean?) is the one that closed the airports the day of the trip and the day after. My friend, Ann, who was going with me couldn't trade time off to make the necessary changes. It would have been difficult for me to do also.
So we cancelled Honduras.
In talking to Renea, our team coordinator, we told her to hang onto the funds as we're going to do another trip. And so she did. Ann and I put our heads together and decided on Colombia. Well, I was pretty much letting her make the decisions, but inside I'm thinking, COLOMBIA??? Is she crazy? That is one insane country. Drug lords, violence, ugh. But like I said, I let Ann decide and I was committed.
And I'm telling you right now. Right up to the day I left I DIDN'T WANT TO GO!