I have been thinking a lot lately of the trip I took to Cuba in 2003 and since I did not have a blog then, I figured it couldn't hurt to tell the story now.
It was a Sunday morning in August 2003. We had arrived late to church, again. This is pretty much expected of us and I suspect the pastor would fall off the platform if he ever saw us sitting in the congregation before the start of the service. Anyway, we slid into a pew during the offertory and I picked up the bulletin to read the announcements.
One of the announcements was new that week. It said, basically, that Tim F. was looking for people to go on a missions trip to Cuba in November. As I read this announcement, someone whispered in my left ear, "You should go."
There was no one sitting next to me.
Now, you might think, as I did for a split second, that this was just my own brain saying something I wanted to hear. I quickly realized that first of all, when I talk to myself, I don't say "you," I say "I." Second of all, I did not want to go. Then that voice came again, quieter this time, almost soothing. "You don't have to go. But you should."
"Okay," I thought. I tapped hubby on the arm and pointed to the announcement in the bulletin. He nodded. After the service, he said, "You'd better go talk to Tim about that." So I did. I expressed an interest. He told me basically that we'd be carrying teaching materials to a Christian group in several locations around Cuba. Spanish would not be required because we'd have a guide.
I told him I'd let him know. The following week, I confirmed I would be going. It was a major leap of faith for me. I had three kids who would need someone to watch them, and hubby had no vacation time left that year. It would cost several hundred dollars we didn't have. But I knew if God wanted me to go, I didn't have to worry about any of that.
More to come!
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