Phoenix Sky Harbor --> Monrovia, Liberia

I started to feel genuinely nervous about my trip to Africa once my dad dropped me curbside at the Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport and it finally dawned on me that I was about to undergo a lot of change. I got that familiar "oh dear Lord, what have I gotten myself into this time" sort of feeling.

I was quickly comforted with the reminder that I'm never alone; God is with me. Regardless of whatever I'm feeling or whatever happens to me, Christ is there and will continue to be there. I recited some of my favorite promises from Psalm 139 to solidify this:

LORD you hem me in behind and before

You have laid your hand upon me

...

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

If I settle to the far side of the sea,

Even there your hand will guide me,

Your right hand will hold me fast.

...
All of the days ordained for me where written in your book
before one of them came into being.


One of the things about flying into Monrovia that I was the most anxious about was switching planes in Brussels. I don't know why, but I was unreasonably afraid that I would be on some obscure flight into Western Africa that no one had heard of and no one else was taking and that I wouldn't be able to find it. As soon as I boarded my Chicago-->Brussels flight I found myself providentially seated by not one, not two, but three unrelated Liberians all making the same connection as me. It was just a small but welcomed reminder that God listens and cares to calm our fears.

The trip was long, (over 30 hours door-to-dock) but quite smooth and enjoyable. I took a lot of pictures looking out my window, and I had ample time to journal, read and sleep.