Last year I wrote a blog entry about only having 10 years left before my daughter graduates college:  Mothers and Daughters.  This is stating the obvious, but, it’s one year later which means there are now 9 years left [10-1=9].

Nine years.  Our time together will of course be shortened if she doesn’t attend the University of Kentucky or Transylvania (her current choice) or Georgetown College or some other school in the tri-county vicinity.  Eighth grade, then high school, then “so long”.  

Which brings me to the title of this entry:

I want to take my daughter to Africa
Perhaps you’re curious as to why.  There are a variety of reasons:
  • I’d like to share an adventure with her 
  • I’d like for her to see life in another place, far, far away from Lexington, Kentucky
  • I believe seeing the problems and issues faced by people living there firsthand would be an experience of a lifetime
  • I’m curious as to what doors the trip would open in both our lives

I have no plan, as of yet.  I have no funds set aside in a bank account.  I don’t know if the trip will entail just the two of us flying to an old church friend’s home in South Africa and hanging out with her family for a week.  I don’t know if we’ll get in on some type of mission tour or if all four of our family members will end up going or if my church small group will go with one of our members from The Congo [excuse me but I don’t think it’s officially called The Congo anymore] as the tour guide.  

At this point, I don’t feel a plan is in order.  It’s a wait and see kind of thing today.  Tomorrow, well tomorrow I just might need to come up with a plan.   Meanwhile, if you’d like to send some cash, I’m fine with that, and I promise to set it aside for THE AFRICA TRIP.  

The truth is, if an opportunity to go to Brazil came to fruition, or Romania, or some other far away place, I’d investigate.  It doesn’t absolutely have to be Africa.  But for some reason I’m drawn there.  I know it has nothing to do with the Toto song, Africa.   Maybe it’s because I read The Poisonwood Bible twelve years ago or because I read Love Mercy last year and I’m influenced by books.  Although I’ve read Michener’s Caravans and Mortenson’s Three Cups of Tea and don’t feel any calling to head for Afghanistan.  Maybe I should read Michener’s Hawaii and meditate on the possibility of a mission trip/vacation to someplace geared to the American tourist.  That would certainly be easier and probably more fun, but I just don’t think “fun” is what this trip will be about.  Enjoyable, educational, productive, and effective, but most likely not “fun”.  [Please excuse my rambling in this paragraph.  Sometimes I’m a little scattered.  And I really do like to read.  And I take my reading seriously.  And, oh poop(!), here I go again. . . . . ]

Everyday on the way to work, I try to remember to pray for this trip.  At this point, I’m praying that it HAPPENS.  Hopefully it will happen, before 2020.  That’s the plan.  That’s the dream.  One way or another.  

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