youth conference.

Our church back home partners with a national missions training and sending agency, whose vision is to raise up, train, and send missionaries from their country all over North Africa.

And they are doing it!

The movement of the Holy Spirit in this group of people is palpable.

The conference we attended was the first youth missions conference the missions agency put on. It’s in a university town, and about 100 people gathered in the hotel for three days.

A student summed up the message of the conference so well when he said, “When I thought of the word ‘missionary,’ I always thought of foreign people moving to our country to tell us about Jesus. It never occurred to me that God might want to make me a missionary. But now I understand His heart for people in my part of the world, and that it’s much easier for someone like me to go share the Good News with them because I speak the Arabic language and know the culture. Now I am ready to go wherever God sends me.”

These young people, in their twenties and early thirties, are on fire to radically live out the gospel.

David and I arrived at the end of Day 1, with our friend Phillip leading the conference. It’s much like an American missions conference, with sessions opening in a time of worship songs, a speaker, testimonies, and prayer. David preached twice on the second day, and once on the third. We also had a Q & A time with the students, and spent lots of time meeting them and talking with the mission agency team.

Sessions were held in the basement of the hotel. Security is a risk, because sharing the gospel with people in this part of the world is illegal. Like a conference that David attended last year, all attendees have to give their phones when they arrive.

The security issues feel unsettling to me.

David wanted to take a run on our first day but our friends said, “You can’t even leave this hotel without a police escort.” We learned that’s for our protection as foreigners — particularly Americans. So we stayed, in that hotel, without stepping foot outside, for two days.

But they were two lovely days, holed up in a hotel that’s quite rustic by American standards. What made it luxurious was the people. Honestly, coming into this trip I didn’t care if I saw one single tourist site. My heart was hungry for people.

People ask why I homeschool my kids, why I love being a pastor’s wife, and why I trekked all this way across the world to spend time with strangers. Life is short. I want to invest this breath of time I have here on earth in loving people.

From the moment I arrived here in North Africa on Monday, I knew, this is the right place for a person who’s hungry for people.

Because I’m pretty sure Arabs lead the world in bright-faced, open-armed hospitality, no questions asked. Don’t believe what you see on the news. Don’t even read that stuff. Instead, get to know the people from this part of the world. Your life will be richer for it.

I came to this continent to love people, and find after just five days that truly it’s I who have been loved by them.

David promised that I would love the national missions sending team here, and I did, instantly.

They’re friendly and genuine and so humble. They served us and were attentive to our needs (especially the constant and unceasing American need for bottled water). They thanked us endlessly for being with them. They asked about our children and our families and our faith in God.

Being apart of the worship services with our Arab brothers and sisters refreshed my spirit and built up my faith more than words can say. I just stood there, head bowed, my ears awash in music and fervent Arabic singing, and thanked God for how powerful He is, that He knits our hearts together with total strangers like this. And that we get to spend eternity together, worshiping Him. And there we’ll all understand each other perfectly.

Hearing them pray for their “cousins” in North Africa who don’t know the hope of Jesus Christ brought me to tears. They pray without judgment or anger; they pray earnestly and with compassion and faith that God will continue His work of seeking and saving those who are lost.

A few of the people we met spoke English, but we had our friend Phillip and another woman was hired to translate for us at the conference. Our translator, Mary, is an English professor at the local university. She’s our age and I enjoyed talking with her so much.

I wish I could post the pictures I’m taking, show you the beautiful smiling faces, but I’ll share some of their stories with you.

Yes, there’s a language barrier, and the terrain of both our country and our cultures are different. But mostly I’m struck this week by how many similarities we share. I’ve talked to person after person — sometimes in English, sometimes through a translator, and thought, “We would genuinely be friends if we had the chance.”

College students laughed and joked with each other. They soaked up the talks on the Bible and missions, and they flocked to David afterword and asked the questions that American Christian college students ask us back home, “What I really need help with is knowing how to manage my time.” “How do I start a habit of reading the Bible and praying regularly while I’m so busy with my studies?”

A mom of young children asked David, “It’s the beginning of summer, and already I feel like we’re wasting it. How do I keep my kids from just being on their devices all day?”

Yes, they are much like us.

But they also have much to teach us. These new friends have a bigger heart for the lost and a far grander vision of God’s power than I do. They ask boldly, and they receive boldly, with thanksgiving. They are willing to suffer.

And they are just overflowing with joy.