"Have you ever considered being a full time missionary?"

Have you ever made a deal with God? Well, that is a major portion of what happened in my mind on my second trip to Peru. In a very similar way to the first trip, I debated for a while whether I would go or not. This time, it ended up that I was the only person able to go as a female chaperone, and there were two girls signed up to go. I took that as my signal that I was supposed to return to the jungle for the second year in a row. Just like the first time, my trip was paid for me within a week of my deciding to go.

After months of planning, we arrived in Iquitos and attended a youth service there before heading down the river. The next day, we headed out to our first village that we were planning on staying in. On the boat ride, someone I was talking to asked me if I had ever considered being a full time missionary. My automatic answer was, "No." I had never considered the thought, but I can tell you that the very question stirred up something deep within me that I wasn't able to express at the time. The village we were going to first was one I hadn't visited before, but our groups had been there before. When we got there we did a few activities with the kids, and later on that evening we showed a movie to the villagers. We camped out that night on a porch with our hammocks, mats, and mosquito nets. The whole evening I couldn't shake a feeling of just needing to be constantly on guard, something I hadn't felt in the village we stayed at the year before. During the night hardly any of us got much sleep because there was some huge kind of party with loud music happening what felt like three huts down. Now, to this day I still haven't figured out exactly what happened to me, but when I woke up in the morning I was covered from my shoulders to my ankles in hundreds of bites. They were not mosquito bites, but I still have no idea what kind of bites they were. I would be lying if I were to say I was anything but miserable from them that first morning out in the jungle. Thankfully, we decided to leave that village that day and go to a bigger village about 30min away by boat that had a 'hotel'.

It worked out that I was able to be in my own room in the hotel, and given my condition with the bites, I was very thankful for that. That night, as I lay in the bed waiting for the Benedryl to kick in, I had a silent and tearful conversation with the Lord. I told Him, "Lord, I don't know what's going on, but there is still so much work to be done on this trip. I can't just quit. I am in charge of this group of things, and I can't do them in the condition that I am in. I don't care if you heal me completely, or just make it so that I can get through the rest of this week, but I will do whatever You ask me to do if I can just make it through this."

From that moment on, my bites only felt itchy while I was alone. Now, if you have ever made a promise to God, you know that He is definitely going to hold you to it. Before the end of the week, two other people that were on the trip with us asked me if I had ever considered being a full time missionary. When it was time to get back on the boat and head towards Iquitos, I genuinely didn't want to go. The question, "Have you ever considered being a full time missionary" was playing on repeat in my head, and burning in my heart. Had I just promised God that I would be a full time missionary?