From A Land I Love . . . To A Land I Love

She stepped onto the plane and found her seat. Every step she took, carried her farther away from the land she had grown to love. Why was her life like this? Why was her heart torn in two every day? She had learned to love and laugh in the country of her birth, she had had heart friends and close family, she had been accepted for who she was and now? Now it was all gone, vanishing like the airport beneath the plane.

She left a piece of her heart behind when her body left and even though she never shed a tear her heart was bleeding. She hated her life, the life her parents had chosen for her without her consent, thrown her into, with no turning back. She was bitter and angry with God, and wasn't it ironic that she was leaving her America to go and serve God in that foreign country?

Jessica (left) with friends

That girl, who was once so bitter and angry, is me. My name is Jessica English and I am now proud to say I am an MK. I've lived in this land for 10 years, I've grown up here and become a part of it. Sure, I don't look like the people here, dress like or talk as fluently as they do and usually I am left totally baffled by their customs, but my heart is a part of this country. I have learned to love here, love the people whom we give our lives to and love the God whom sent me here.

I went on furlough last year, and struggled a great deal with returning the mission field. I had met so many wonderful people, gone to school, played basketball, and made a best friend all over again - my Nana, but suddenly all that disappeared as I set foot in Papua New Guinea.

I was so bitter and angry and hurt, but our God is an awesome God! Through a series of events that he brought me through, I realized that I am here for Him and in that, there is never-ending, soul-deep joy.

I hadn't been to my parent's tribal location in a year and a half and I was feeling horribly apprehensive. What would it be like returning to another one of my homes? Would the people be the same? Would I be the same? But driving on that so-called "worst road in the world," the Highlands Highway, for 3 hours until we reached our tribe, my heart was jolted into reality - just as my body was jolted around countless times by the hundreds of potholes scattering the road.

As we traveled over tall mountains and descended into deep, green valleys my heart cried out that this is the country where I belonged. No, I wasn't born here, and no, my extended family doesn't live here. I am a different color than the people here with different customs and a different language, but I love them and am here for God, to bring them to Him. So as I gazed on God's vast beautiful landscapes and saw the joy on the faces of my friends and "family", I knew why I was here and why my life is this way. I don't know their languages and oftentimes I forget their names. I really only go to school here, at Numonohi Christian Academy, and I live in a dormitory, not in the middle of a village, but my presence here is a light, a light of love, God's love, to the millions of lost souls in Papua New Guinea.