He’s 22. A recent college graduate. He’s a very devoted Christian who knows how to have fun. He speaks pretty fluent Spanish.
He’s got job prospects. But for the last year and a half, he’s also felt a calling to serve God as a missionary. He knows God is first and that he is second. He faithfully raised money for his living expenses and travel to his destination. And today, I put him on a plane. I received a text about 20 minutes ago that he had safely arrived in San Jose, Costa Rica. He’ll be living there for the next six months, arriving back home on his 23rd birthday.
He’ll be serving God in a very poor area of San Jose called La Carpio. It’s described as a slum built on a trash dump where many Nicaraguan refugees live. These refugees are scorned by the general population. He’ll be sharing his faith while teaching English, providing a recreation program for the youths, and whatever else he is asked to do. He departed filled with joy and excitement.
He is my oldest child, my son, Corey. I couldn’t be prouder of him or more in awe of his faith and commitment.
Vaya con Dios, mijito!
