I’m Bonnie Claire Phillips, and this is how God has been enabling me to live deeply through a mission trip I took to Prague in January. 

“I didn’t want to go. When [CSPC college pastor] Mark Steimer first mentioned a college ministry trip to Prague, I was exhausted. It had been a packed semester, and the thought of more travel just sounded overwhelming. So I told him no. But then, as I was praying one day, Prague came to mind. It felt out of nowhere. I started wrestling with the question: Was I saying no because I truly needed rest, or was I just being lazy? After a lot of prayer and talking with my mom, I realized this was an opportunity to submit to God, even when it wasn’t what I naturally wanted. And once I said yes, I prayed that God would help me go with a cheerful heart. From the start, the trip was an adventure. We almost didn’t make it. We flew during a snowstorm, so when our first flight from Knoxville to DC landed, only one runway was open. It took forever to get to the gate, which meant we were cutting it close with our connecting flight. We had to sprint through the terminal, begging ‘Please let us on!’ when we finally got to our gate. They actually reopened the gate for us and we made our next flight, but our luggage didn’t. So when we landed in Prague, I had nothing but the clothes I was wearing and​​ the few toiletries I thought to pack in my backpack. But in a way, it was a reminder of what this trip was about: letting go of my own comfort and trusting God in the moment. On our first full day, Petra and Tom Damms, the missionaries we were working with, sat us down over coffee and told us about the Dignity Center, which they’d started. They’d both left their corporate jobs because God called them to help refugees. Petra described how, in 2012, she saw news footage of Syrian refugees arriving at a train station, confused and scared, numbers written on their hands. She felt God saying, ‘These are My people. I want you to help them.’ That moment changed her life. And now, years later, they were welcoming Ukrainian refugees to the Dignity Center in the same way.

One of the most surreal moments of the trip was rolling bandages with Ukrainian refugees. It wasn’t something we had planned to do, but Petra had learned this group of refugees that met regularly was behind on rolling and packaging bandages for field hospitals in the Ukraine. So instead of our planned evening activity one night, we showed up to help them and to bring brownies and cookies we’d made- to love on them a little. It felt like stepping into a scene from a history book- like something you’d see in an old war movie. The room was full of Ukrainians, many of whom had fled their homes, now working to help those still there. We sat together, rolling bandages, sorting medical supplies, and praying over what we touched. It was one of the most tangible ways I had ever served. It made the Ukraine war very real for me. I could see exactly where the work was going- straight to the frontlines, to people who were suffering. We got to chat with some of the refugees and see how they were so diligent in supporting those back home in the Ukraine. It was heavy, but it also felt like a holy space. A place where suffering and hope coexisted, where people who had lost so much still showed up to love and serve others. I realized that God was present in that room, in those bandages, in the hands that rolled them, in the prayers that were whispered over them. And I felt the beauty of getting to see how big God’s Kingdom is- that even though we were in Prague, we got to support others in the Ukraine. It’s amazing how He’ll use the hands of people who seem unrelated to a situation to bless others- and to be blessed in their serving as well.

One afternoon, we sat with a refugee from Pakistan. Petra had told us part of her story beforehand, but hearing it in her own words was crazy and amazing. She was a Christian, which put her life in danger. In Pakistan, her husband’s family was Muslim, and because of that, she had a mark against her- if they found her, they could kill her. She told us of the several times she had fled for her life. Her husband had been arrested in Germany on false charges, and ​​she was alone with her sweet young daughter (probably 7 or 8) other than the once a month when she was allowed to visit him. But when she spoke about Jesus, her entire face lit up. ‘They can destroy my body,’ she told us, ‘but I won’t give up my soul. If I give up my soul, I am nothing.’ She talked about waking up in the night and just praying, ‘Jesus, I just want you.’ It was the kind of faith that didn’t come from comfort or safety. It came from knowing, truly knowing, that Jesus was her only hope. I couldn’t stop thinking about that. Back home, I had so many things that made my life easy: security, freedom, choices. But here was a woman who had lost everything, and still, as long as her soul was safe, she knew that was what mattered. After we left Prague, we got an update- her husband had been released! No charges, nothing pending. A miracle! It was a reminder that God is at work even when things seem impossible. I still don’t fully know the outcome of how God will use our time in Prague to shape my life, but I can tell you the whole trip was full of those reminders. Reminders that God calls us to say yes, even when we’d rather say no. That He meets us in places of suffering. That He is present in the work of our hands, in the prayers we pray, in the courage of those who trust Him completely. And that sometimes, the greatest joy comes in simply saying, ‘Jesus, I just want you.’”