Free Sons of God's Generals: Unlocking the Power of Godly Inheritance by Joshua Frost Page B

be, but my pride didn’t want to admit that to my parents. (How often are our greatest strengths our greatest weaknesses?)
    Instead of going back on the road I decided to try my hand at college. That first year was very challenging. More than just typical freshman jitters, this was the most outside of my comfort zone that I had ever been. For the first time in my life I found myself surrounded by people who didn’t believe what I believed at all, some who did, and everywhere in between. This was my first real step into the world, outside of my Christian bubble and away from my parents. This was my chance to see who I was raised to be and what I was made of. But I wasn’t sure how to do that. Did I need to be really zealous for God? Did I need to read my Bible outside on the grass for everyone to see? Did I need to get up on the table at lunch and preach Jonathan Edwards’ “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God”? Did I need to wait up for my roommates to get home from partying so I could tell them I was praying for them and God loved them?
    I was concerned that if I wasn’t obviously, overtly, and proactively “Christian,” then they might not know; they wouldn’t see who I was. I wanted so badly to represent who I was and who God was that I tried too hard. It was a rocky learning curve. I didn’t know that just being myself, loving God, and operating out of that love was all I needed to do.
    Another thing I learned—English Literature bores me, and I’m even worse at Algebra. Oh, but the arts! That’s what made my heart tick. Armed with the knowledge that academics were not my strong suit, I switched gears. I heard about a small ministry school with an emphasis on music and art in Croydon, England. I found my bags packed again and headed across the pond. During my four months there I made deep friendships with my 12 schoolmates. It was a pressure cooker. We lived together, played music, sang, cried, laughed, learned about the Lord, and challenged each other. It was real community. For the first time in my life I opened up my heart and was truly vulnerable and transparent with my friends and leaders. When they responded with love and acceptance, it changed me. I was set free from the fear of rejection. There were no expectations put on me and I was not afraid to be myself. It was evident to me that the students and leaders alike were a demonstration of God’s great love.
    My time in England was an amazing season. I highly recommend ministry school to all young people. When that was over, I moved back home with my parents. I had come full circle. I went from traveling full time with my parents, left home, gone to schools, and then moved back. They welcomed me with open arms and offered me a position on their staff to be their missions coordinator. I would plan the trips with my parents and help the groups get their tickets, passports, hotels, and travel details sorted out. It was a perfect scenario for me because I finally had balance for both—ministry and the stability of planting roots and being grounded somewhere safe. I had time to invest in my friendships at our new home church in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and twice a year I would travel overseas with the missions group to Bulgaria, Greece, Turkey, Romania, and Nicaragua. It was a win-win. I absolutely love short-term missions trips. They are the perfect opportunity to see the Lord in action, to give to the poor, and even to fall in love. Yes, I fell in love with my husband on the mission field.
    One perk of traveling the world—meeting boys. Even a minister’s daughter has a one-track mind. I had met my fair share of great guys, but none of them captured my attention. I knew what I wanted, and my standards were high. So when Chris, my friend’s younger brother, approached me on a missions trip to Turkey and confessed that he had liked me since he was 16, I was shocked. I was flattered, but shocked. We had known his family for years. His parents were