FINDING MY WAY

Destinee Fontaine's life has hit a crossroads. She is trying to figure out what road should she take next. She decides to do missionary work for her dad's church, and she learns a valuable lesson...

On my own now.  This is what I have wanted for so long, just not under these circumstances.  I have been away from society for six months, and I believe those were the best six months of my life.  I have been able to reflect back on my life.  I’ve read a lot of books, I also gained a lot more weight than I should have; the product of learning how to cook over the last six months, and eating every bit of it.  There has been absolutely no pressures to be great, no expectations.  There haven’t been people wanting something from me at every turn.  This is something that I had not had in a long time - quiet in my own head - and I liked it, I liked it a lot. 

        No diploma, no basketball scholarship; everything that I had worked my a*s off for, everything that I thought that I wanted, I did not have; and yet I’m happier than I’ve ever been.  I’m back home, living with mom and dad, trying to figure out where I go from here.  I’ve always had big hopes and dreams, large goals, and gigantic expectations.  But if the last six months has taught me anything, it’s that with big goals and gigantic expectations come big pressures and gigantic worries.  I feel so good physically and mentally that I’m not sure I want those pressures anymore.  Maybe I want a simple life.  Something that allows me to pay the bills, come home at a decent time, and relax on weekends.  Maybe I’ll do work for one my dad’s church ministries.  I’m 19, and have no clue what I want to do for the rest of my life.  Maybe doing GOD’s work will allow me to find myself.  Maybe doing GOD’s work is his plan for my life.  I’ve never thought about it, but it’s worth a shot. 

        After speaking to my mom and dad about the different ministries at the church that I may become a part of, I decided on the missionary ministry.  Each year the missionary ministry is sent by the church to different parts of the world to make a difference.  They’ve been to Africa a bunch, Asia, India, different parts of the U.S., and Mexico.  They do things such as build homes for the less fortunate, feed the hungry, give medicine and medical supplies to those who need them, and much much more.  My initial reason for choosing this ministry was because of the travel involved… See, I’ve traveled all over the world, and I love it.  Meeting new people, and experiencing new cultures is the best.  But my dad tells me that this aint those modeling trips.  There’s real work involved, and if I don’t plan on working, don’t go.  I assured him I am game. 

        The missionary ministry really came about during my time as a model.  My mom was with me every step of the way, so every new place we visited, she would do her part by trying to bring people to the Lord.  My mom would preach to people, she would pray for people, and do anything heavenly possible to show people Christ.  She would visit the darkest of places too.  I would be set up in a 5-star hotel, while mom is ministering to the homeless over a street fire in the ghetto.  I would tell her how dangerous it was, and she would say how much more dangerous Hell is.  She was putting herself in Hell’s way in order for people’s souls to be saved.  She did this everywhere that we went.  She would report back to my dad everything that she was doing.  Dad thought it dangerous too, but he knew there was no talking her out of it.  See, he was a pastor, but he was also a husband and his husband side didn’t want his wife out at all these dark places because he knew that the human body could not be trusted.  It was not of GOD, and needed a spiritual transformation, which his wife was trying to do.  So my dad was caught in a catch 22, allowing one of his flock to minister to those who needed it, but that person being his wife and him wanting to protect her.  Dad decided right then to start a missionary ministry.  It would be a group of people from the church instead of one person, thereby lessoning the danger, when out in the streets at night, or otherwise.  They would continue the work that his wife had started. 

        The first few years the missionary ministry traveled throughout the U.S. only, finding different areas that they thought needed hope, Jesus, or a friend.  See, when my dad put this ministry together, he really just wanted to be a friend to those who needed us.  He always said that the true spirit of Jesus Christ is that of friendship.  When you can’t count on anyone else, you can count on your friend.  So from this line of thinking, our ministry got its name; A Friend For Life ministries. 

        The first few years we had a shoe string budget, which was another reason we only traveled domestic and not international.  My dad used to tell the congregation that we need to save American souls first, and let GOD handle the rest, until we get there.  Well, with GOD’s help, we got there pretty quickly.  Within three years A Friend For Life made its first international mission.  They went to Zaire, Africa for six weeks armed with enough medical supplies to start their own hospital; enough rice and beans to start a Chipotle franchise, and enough clothing for Wal Mart to be jealous.  Wal Mart was a big sponsor of our A Friend For Life ministries, donating a lot of the clothes, while Sam’s Club donated most of the rice and beans.

        After the first trip to Africa was a huge success, the Church Board would meet on an annual basis and decide where to send the ministry next.  Since a lot of my model money was used to fund A Friend For Life ministries, I was made an honorary board member.  No voting rights, but I could sit in on the meetings and give input.  I was not yet traveling with the ministry, but I was very instrumental in deciding where the church would send A Friend For Life. 

        First trip, Mexico.  Our church started out as a Pentecostal church when I was young.  But through the years as my dad’s religious views evolved, so did the churches'. 

        Our church now has about ten different denominations.  We opened it up to all denominations once we started getting Mexicans, and Africans, and Germans coming, wanting to be a part of our congregation.  It’s something my dad had to do because not everyone in the church wanted to practice the Pentecostal religion.  So he said people could come from all walks of life and practice their religion.  Because we all worship the same GOD.  We all have faith in the same Almighty. 

        My dad began to stop believing in religion when he witnessed a lot of preachers become wealthy on the backs of their most poor congregation members.  Pastor friends that he came up with, who would preach the message of poverty to their congregation, and drive off in a Benz.  My dad called them “Hollywood” preachers, and believed they were the biggest sinners of all.  He didn’t judge though, so Heaven or Hell would be up to GOD.  After witnessing these “Hollywood” preachers do this time after time, he felt that his church should be opened up to all religions, and his missionary ministry, A Friend For Life, needed to expand international.  With the influx of Mexicans now attending our church, and after listening to their stories of poverty that is taking place over in Mexico, the church board decided that this year, they would send A Friend For Life ministries to Mexico. 

        Guadelupe, Mexico, such a sad place.  I had been to Mexico twice as a model, but never here.  From the time the plane was hovering above the city, we could tell, that they needed us.  You know how most cities have a bad part and a good part; well, Guadelupe was all bad, and the good had left town years before.  It seemed like Guadelupe was an endless ghetto, stretching for miles.  If there was a bright spot to this city, it was buried so deep beneath the dirt, the rubble, and the stench of dead animals and trash that it would take a millennium to uncover.   So here we are �" A Friend For Life ministries - trying to find that bright spot. 

        When we get there, we follow our directions, which lead us to something of a warehouse district.  We cannot tell what it is from the outside, although it looks and smells like death all around us.  But inside there is life.  This rundown warehouse, that smells to all be-damned on the outside, is like a bustling little city on the inside.  People moving all around like they have places to go and people to see.  We were very surprised by this.  Now, our contact was a guy named Hector. Hector was short, a little bit fat, but not a lot, and he had lived in America for years before going back to Mexico because of family reasons.  There are a lot of churches that send missions to Guadelupe, and Hector is point man for most of them. 

        We are here because Hector reached out to our church.  His mom attends our church, and through her, he was able to relay the message of suffering and poverty down in Guadelupe.  We are housed in a �" average for Mexico, but below standards for America �" part of the warehouse.  Our objective is to feed people that are hungry;  Clothe people that have little to none; and deliver people that want to know GOD. 

        After being there almost five weeks, and feeding person after person; witnessing to soul after soul, I didn’t have a real passion for it.  I believed in the work, and thought it good and decent, but I needed more.  We do good and decent work in America.  I was looking for greatness in Mexico.  I wanted to do something big.  I wanted to find my way here and now in Guadelupe, Mexico.  Well, the final week went by without anything colossal happening and I really had to work at not feeling down about that.  I really wanted GOD to give me a sign that this was to be my life’s work; that ministering to those less fortunate than I is the way to go for me.  Mexico was cool, I believe we helped people.  But I also believe that it could have been so much more.

        It is the first Sunday back at church after the mission trip and everyone is asking us questions, and congratulating us.  Hector’s mom stands up and thanks the church for what we did.  She says that her son Hector raved about the help that we gave them.  She says that he said even more than the food and clothes; the best thing that we gave Guadelupe was hope.  He said that as we could see, it is a very downtrodden city, in which hope had not visited in a long time.  We changed that.  A Friend For Life ministries gave Guadelupe, Mexico a reason to believe.  Hector told his mom that a lot of people wanted to leave Mexico, but thought that it would be too hard.  He now says that a bunch of citizens will be coming to the U.S. to find work, a church home, and a friend for life…

        About two weeks had passed and we as a church were into other things, and had forgotten Hector’s words.  Well, this Sunday we were all at church, and had been for a while.  My dad had extended an invitation to join the church, which he does every Sunday.  We had a couple of people get up from their seats and come to the front; which is generally the norm.  On this Sunday however, Hector’s mom gets up and goes to the back of the church.  She opened the double doors and the first person through was Hector, dressed in his Sunday best.  After Hector, there seemed to be an endless number of Mexicans that came and joined the church that day.  I would put the number at over a hundred.  My dad and mom could not stop smiling.  My dad kept saying what a blessing, what a colossal blessing.  At that moment I thought back to Mexico, and how I was looking for this huge blessing.  GOD was teaching me patience.  I learned that the bigger blessings came in time.  I was so used to getting immediate gratification my whole life that I didn’t recognize when seeds were being planted.  After this experience, I think I know what my way is… seed planter.  Yeah, I want to be a seed planter…

Author's Note

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