Mtoto, tafadhali: Day 49: Goodbye

This was it. Today, we were leaving Kenya to go back home. We all knew this day was coming, but I was still in no way prepared for it. This day was an absolute whirlwind; so much happened that I can't even begin to adequately match words with events and emotions.

I'll start off by recounting that the GP team stopped by downtown Nairobi one last time to use up the rest of our shillings on souvenirs and other random crap to bring back stateside. After that, it was time to go to the airport. At last, it was time to do what is all at once obvious, saddening, and necessary on a missions trip: leave and go home.

At the airport parking lot, we got our chances to say goodbye to our GP directors (Brian and Debbie who would be staying in Kenya a bit longer), and our Kenyan teammates and friends (George, Catherine, Hellen, and "Nams"). This was one of the hardest parts of the entire missions trip, because what's difficult is not leaving the country itself but parting from those you count as friends. I love my Kenyan friends so of course it was hard saying goodbye to someone you honestly might never see again until heaven. I know that sounds super lame, but isn't that what heaven sort of is: eternal unity with God and loved ones? To George, Catherine, Hellen, and Nams: I still think about you to this day. I'm not even lying when I say that each of you made a difference in my life this past year. I love you all and I'll make sure to look for y'all when when we see each other in heaven one day, if not sooner on this earth.

When we finally separated from the Lee family and our Kenyan friends (which you can bet took a long time), we entered the bustling airport and eventually proceeded to our gate. Let me tell you what a surreal experience it is to be in an airport in a foreign country after you've been on a missions trip for 7 weeks. I felt like I was in a dream: there was so much commotion and people of all different nationalities. After sitting around in a hot, stuffy gate for a while, we finally boarded the plane that would take us back to Dubai.

Around 11:40 PM, our plane took off. I felt such a heaviness in my heart knowing I had just left the place where God had begun a good work in me. Not only had I experienced so much redemption and transformation, but I was even blessed with things I didn't expect. Things like community and friendship.

But now came the hard part. In some ways, it's easy to "be Christian" and "follow Jesus unconditionally" on a missions trip. I'd bet that 96.8% of Christians could go on a missions trip and say that they experienced God, underwent transformation, and felt a greater burden for the world during their time in a third-world country. What's more difficult is actually going home and integrating that transformation into a life that begs to be comfortable, attain riches, and not be challenged by Jesus. In the end, it's not what you experience on a missions trip that's most important, but it's the change you bring into your life post-missions that's critical.

I sometimes jokingly say that a missions trip is like a NFL draft: you wait 3 years before you judge the "success" (obviously, success take many and any forms) of a missions trip or draft. In the same way you can't tell if a college player you drafted will be an elite player right away, you can't tell what transformation a person who's gone on a missions trip has experienced until you let him/her go home and apply that change.

That's what I was afraid of as I sat in my seat in that airplane leaving Kenya: that all I had experienced would be all for naught unless I let my experiences change the way I lived in the U.S. One year later, I hope that my life has provided evidence of God's work, redemption, and transformation. If not, then go ahead and call me out, and treat me like JaMarcus Russell and call me a "bust."

Brian Lee-A man of God. Enough said.