Why Go International?

People in the US frequently ask me why I would go to a foreign county when I could be helping people in my own country, and, honestly, this is a very tough one to answer. To be completely honest, I wanted to temporarily escape Oklahoma. I was tired of my job, tired of school...I was just tired. I figured going somewhere like Egypt would make for cool stories later. That was in 2010, and another employee had already requested time off, so I was unable to go.

Then a revolution happened. People that were MY age stood up and said, "Something's not right here." And they DID SOMETHING about it. They could have sat back and complained - whining about how unfair life was and how much they hated their country's version of a government. They could have continued to live in fear - never knowing if a trip to the market would end in assault for the men, rape for the women, or death for both. Instead they came together and turned their words into actions. They took to social media to spread the word of the injustices that they faced on a daily basis. When the government shut down cell towers, and the internet disappeared, they didn't give up. Some camped in Tahrir Square for weeks. They never gave up. They still haven't.

A few months after the revolution had started, Brad asked me if I would like to join the sports team. After talking with my parents, a few meetings, and many prayers, they agreed to send me. I put in my two weeks at work, and started packing. I was still excited about going to Egypt to just GO to Egypt, but that was no longer the main appeal to me. I wanted to be a witness to history. I wanted to speak to the revolutionists because up until this point, that word always came with mental pictures of old men in blue coats with gold buttons and white wigs. Now they were people MY age. I've always wondered if I would have the strength to stand up to wrong-doings even if it meant death was placed on the table of opportunities for me. This kind of question has always been hypothetical for me - nothing I ever really believed I would face, but a call that deep down I hoped I would be able to answer if I needed to. The young adults in Egypt didn't just answer the call - they MADE the call. These young adults are the equivalents to American Joshs and Erins, Jalyns, Danas, Britneys, and Nicks, and Nadias. 

I had to get there.

What I didn't realize at the time was how much it would change me. I knew I would be affected, but nothing could have prepared me for what my eyes would  be opened to.

I figured that going to a sports camp would be easy. I've never been huge on evangelism, and this trip didn't require that I do that. In fact, I was told not to unless directly asked by a camper. I thought I was going to go as a trainer - to observe and put some band aids on some little people. So when Brad told me that first night at camp that I would be coaching volleyball, I went to the bathroom and cried. How could I coach a sport that was almost as foreign to me as the country I would be coaching it in?

Four days later, it all made sense. 

The campers came to Majors (what we called the hour and a half for sports) in a manner not normal for them. Normally, they would bolt to the volleyball court laughing and racing, each one eager to be the first one to arrive so that they could be the one to open the latch on the basket and toss the volleyballs to each other. This day, not a single one bolted. Every pair of shoulders drooped, and a few were crying. Unbeknownst to me, I was facing 23 little people that had just had their lives changed. The meeting they had come from was where, for the very first time in their lives, someone had not only encouraged them to acknowledge and express any emotional pain they might be feeling, but to share it. And the flood gates had opened. Many did not even realize just how much extra pain they were causing themselves by not talking about how they felt. And when they realized how many of their companions  were feeling the same things, the relief was just as overwhelming. So many of them had lost someone they loved, and even more were dealing with family separations, and they were doing it alone. I told them we could escape via volleyball, and then talk during dinner. 

For an American, this can be a difficult concept. We are taught to talk out our problems, and for most of us (ESPECIALLY myself) talking to our friends about whatever is upsetting us is second nature. So do this- imagine the most emotionally painful thing you have ever experienced. For me, it would be when my brother died. Now imagine an adult (more than likely your parent or grandparent - possibly an older sibling) coming up to you and saying, "That is enough crying. You're done crying. Be strong and deal with it. We are moving on" - this "pep talk" happening only a few days after the experience took place.

Now imagine that you are being told this...as a ten year old. And that it happens again and again, over and over. Where do you turn? Probably to anything that will make you forget, even if only for a short while. Alcohol? Drugs? I'm not saying this is where my kids were at, but it was definitely where some where headed.

And you know what I really learned that evening as we all gathered in the grass to eat dinner and discuss what we were feeling? 

That kids are kids. It doesn't matter what country they are from, what color they are, or what language they speak. And these kids? Needed a coach that had lost her little brother. While some of them had experiences that were entirely different, they connected with me that night because I told them about my own pain and how talking about it and who my brother was, who he continues to be, helps me be able to remember him and smile instead of always cry.

It made his death really mean something. And that touched me in a way that is completely irreplaceable. Even if I only connected with one child, Alex would continue to live on. Maybe it will even save a life.

Maybe teaching a kid to reach inside of themselves and find bravery amidst their fear and find the courage to step off a tower 52 feet in the air will created a feeling that will stay with them and give them the courage to continue taking steps that could eventually change the face of Egypt even more so in the future if the country needs it. 

Or maybe not. I may never even know. And for me, that is the best reward. In a world where I am always wanting to be nosy and in control, at camp I can only do my best and move on. It forces me to let go and REALLY give it all over to God. 

The pull to meet these people comes from so deep inside of me that I can almost feel it physically. I have to be in Egypt. People that have experienced what I'm talking about will know exactly what I'm trying to convey. And for those of you that haven't...I hope you can someday. Whether that pull is towards Egypt or Arlington, Texas - I hope you find it. Even more so, I hope you allow it to pull you all the way to the destination that is so obviously yours. You will never be the same, and you know what? You won't want to be.

Much Love,

*L*