As summer approaches,
everyone starts talking about their plans.
Vacation, late drives, hanging with friends.
All I can think about is my mission trip-
Street Reach in Memphis.
I go there every summer-
this past one was my 6th time.

The first year I went down,
I was pretty anxious.
I had no clue what to expect.
The bus rolled up to the tiny school on Rosamond Ave.
I would’ve never guessed it would mean so much to me now.
On the first day of Bible club,
I met Brianna.
She was only three.
She didn’t talk to anyone except for me.
It was hard to leave her on Friday,
and as soon as I got back home, I missed it.
The cold showers,
the paper-thin mattresses,
even the turkey sandwiches that we had for lunch every day.
I fell in love with a city that week.

When the next year came along,
I could barely contain my excitement.
My dad was joining the team that summer.
I was lucky enough to get to serve alongside him-
an experience I’ll treasure for life.
I didn’t have a favorite kid but I had a lot of fun.
You just never get sick of adorable, sweaty kids jumping on your already sweaty back.
In the messiness of life, beauty is found.
I saw how God can shape a city that week.

My third time going to Memphis,
I was back at my original site on Johnson Ave.
I even got to walk the same route.
And I saw the house that started it all just two years before.
*Knock knock*.
“Who is it?”
“Bible club! Got any kids?”
A woman opened the door and explained that she had none.
My heart sunk deep into my chest as I realized,
Brianna didn’t live there anymore.
That’s kind of the norm down in Memphis-
never stay in one place too long.
Luckily, I made a new friend that summer- DeBo.
He was only 8,
but he loved piggyback rides and holding my hand.
I understood the depth of emotional attachment that week.

My fourth year going down,
I really took it all in.
I was older now and realized how dirty the city truly was.
I saw the men-
how they’d sit on their front porch,
smoking the day away.
The fumes of rotten trash filled my nose.
I probably stepped on more broken glass than actual concrete
while walking down the street.
I noticed that some kids would wear the same outfit
2, 3 days in a row.
I learned how to love people despite their circumstances that week.

My fifth time going down, wasn’t actually during summer.
It was spring break.
Instead of the blazing heat of the sun beating down on us,
the cool winds of spring made it feel chilly outside.
I got to teach Bible story that week.
The kids would ask a lot of questions,
and we had some great conversations about God.
I also became closer to some of the staff.
They urged me to serve down there for the whole summer.
I realized my overwhelming passion for Street Reach that week.

The most recent time I went down,
this past summer- 2016.
I wasn’t supposed to go,
but God knew where I was meant to be.
I felt so blessed to be able to return to a place I now call my second home.
The first day at site,
cop cars filled the streets.
cameras and news casters flooded the parking lot.
There had been a shooting just a few hours prior.
Again, that’s another kind of norm down in Memphis.
I also made a new sista sista that week- Cisha.
Every day,
I’d go to pick her up,
and a huge smile would come across my face.
I found joy in the simplest of circumstances that week.

Although it’s been many years,
when each summer approaches,
I can’t get my mind off of Street Reach.
The kids, the city, the God who made it all possible.
Memphis has taught me some of the most valuable and beautiful life lessons.
And I can’t wait till I go back again.