Orchestrated

Freshley Jamaica Mission Trip: a convergence of a seemingly random series of events to display God's glory for His ultimate purpose.

I joined band as a trumpet player. I switched to French horn the next year, but switched back to trumpet a year later. I moved to Georgia. I went to Etowah High School. I went to the UGA Summer Music Camp. I went again the next year. And the next. I applied and was accepted to UGA as a full-time student, along with 10-15% of my graduating class of 450.

I joined the Redcoat Marching Band. I met a bunch of awesome people, including my future Freshley small group leader, who plays trumpet. I signed up for my small group leader's small group because a friend had also signed up for it. I kept meeting new friends everywhere: church, Freshley, Redcoats, Team United, and more. I went on the Freshley fall retreat with my small group leaders and a bunch of friends from all over the place at UGA, building stronger friendships.

I registered for the Jamaica mission trip; the trips are organized by small group leaders and by requests (if you and a friend mutually request to go together, they put that into consideration when organizing the groups). I got placed in the Port Maria group, which is where my non-Redcoat small group leader went last year. I requested to be in the group with my friends from Etowah, so we ended up all being in the Port Maria group.

I went with the Redcoats to the Liberty Bowl in Memphis, growing even closer to my semester-old friends. It snowed. I spent several days going back and forth between dining halls and my dorm, talking to and eating lunch with whoever showed up that I knew. Today I went to my first Jamaica prep meeting, and about half of the Port Maria group is made up people I've already met, several of whom I'm already good friends with, while the other groups are made up more of people that I don't know or that I don't know as well.

Call it chance. Call it fate. But I call it God's will.