Have you ever felt like you’re in the wrong place? That you’re not supposed to be there? That’s how I felt during the first few moments in the PSS. First of all, I am not a district servant. I honestly do not really know “where I stand” in our area. But through the people I encountered during the summit, I was reminded that I was in Batangas for a reason. It wasn’t a mistake. God intended for me to be there. Those were my prayers for the entire summit. And because the YFL Conference set a fire inside my heart, I took my participation in the summit as an opportunity to share that fire to the others, especially those from my area.
I have met a lot of new people. And at first, they seemed to me like your everyday average teenager but the more I got to know them, the more I understood that they’re really not. That I was among special people who are capable of changing lives. It was a very inspiring experience for me. The stories and the talks I heard affirmed me in ways I can still barely understand to this day.
Aside from the laughter and the fellowship, I learned so many things that we can use to empower the people in our area. It was also comforting to know that we are not alone in this “journey.” That we have friends and mentors that we can always go to whenever things get rather tough. And that of course, God is always on our side. I have also realized that it doesn’t hurt to dream big for our areas. That, if anything, we have all the right to dream for great things because we have a great God who makes all things possible. Also in the process, I got to know myself a little better. I was finally able to accept my weaknesses and the qualities that I am yet to acquire. And it’s just so affirming to be once again reminded that despite my flaws and deficiencies, my God still believes in me. That He trusts me, more than I trust myself, to do His works for Him.
And so with the things I learned during the summit, I hope to be able to share this fire deep within me to everyone I come across with. I feel so blessed that I can’t contain it; I really, really have to give it away.
By Kaycee Melon, District of Dumaguete