Someone once said that if your dreams don't scare you then they aren't big enough. Thinking back to how I felt getting ready to go to Haiti for the first time, I can assure you that my dream was more than big enough. And, before I knew it, I was standing in an airport in a country I knew almost nothing about, trying to speak a language I'd never learned and working in a team of people that I'd never met before.

In 2014, I decided to take a leap of faith and go on a mission trip to Haiti. I'd heard people talk about mission trips all my life. Our church supports missionaries in other countries so it was a regular occurrence to hear about missions in other countries. For as long as I could remember, we had participated in Operation Christmas Child, something near and dear to my heart. Then, finally my opportunity came.

Fundraisers happened to help raise money, prayers were sent up, flights were booked and we were off. I had no idea the summer of 2014 would change my life forever. I had no idea what God had in store for me when I stepped off that plane. I was unprepared for everything that happened on that glorious trip.

I could tell you everything we did while we were there. I could tell you about how my heart broke in certain circumstances for children and people there. I could tell you about the lizard jumping out of the cabinet at us. I could tell you about eating goat. But, that's not what this is for. There's something more important I need to share.

You see, we were sent to Haiti as a voice for God's word. We were sent to witness, to save, and to help heal. Yet, I was healed. I was ministered to in the most powerful ways. In fact, I would venture to say that more things happened for me on that one single trip than I could ever repay God for. I could never be thankful enough.

I got to help with the Vacation Bible School at the church we were working at. There were these four children there that I don't think I'll ever be able to meet. Kirby had a smile that could light up your life. This was a child who was full of love and happiness and joy, even though he had so little. He was funny and he laughed us a lot but every day we were at the church we looked forward to seeing him.

There were these two little girls, Ketza and Kresta. They taught us to sing This is The Day in Creole and, to this day, it's the only Creole I know by heart. They fixed our hair and tried to show us how to dance but did more laughing at the fact we couldn't get the motions right. They were so sweet. They were so giving. They loved us unconditionally and we fell in love with them.

But there was one boy who I will never forget. I remember seeing him sitting there in an orange and white stripped shirt and it reminded me of home because of the Tennessee Vols. I watched him as he colored all over the page we had handed out and our translator just said, "he's blind." Two words. Two words that hit me like a wall of bricks and all I could do was cry. Here was this child who could sing the songs better than I could, who praised God even though he lost his sight. Here was this child who was so full of life and not of anger. And there I was, angry and hurt over the things that had happened in my past. God spoke to me through him. I do not know his name but I can never thank him enough for what he did for me that day.

I came back from Haiti with a yearning in my heart. After nine days in such an amazing country with extraordinary people, I wasn't ready to return to the states. It felt as if I was leaving a place that felt like home and I didn't know how to deal with that. It broke my heart to say goodbye but I found my calling while there. I found a love for missions I never knew I had. My heart had been opened like never before.

Coming off that trip, I had such a high. To be honest, I still have a high every time I think or talk about it. It's like I left a piece of myself there and I won't be whole until I go back. For a long time, we tried and we tried to make it back to Haiti. Every time, the door would slam in my face and I felt so defeated. I was angry with God. I wanted to shout at Him because I desperately wanted to go back, my heart yearned for it.

For three years, I tried. The missionary that we stayed with in Haiti reminded me once that it was in His time, not ours. That He has a plan for everything. I knew that, of course, but it didn't make waiting any easier. For three years, I waited for my opportunity. I was learning to praise Him the best way I could in the hallway until he opened that door.

Now, three years exactly to the day, I will be returning to Haiti. I was skeptical at first, thinking that it was going to fall through and the plans wouldn't be finished again. Looking at our flight to Port-au-Prince, I have tears in my eyes. I'm returning to a country that I love but it will not be the same as I remember. I am stepping out with faith again on a new adventure that was different from before but I know that I will be blessed.

The first time changed my life. I can't wait to see what God has in store for me this time, for all of us going. If you feel called to go, go. It's scary. It's a huge step out of a comfort zone that we know so well. But, I promise you won't regret it. You'll never be the same.

I know I'm not.