I don't know why I even volunteered to do this: to go and "preach the gospel" to people in strange, faraway lands.  Yet God insisted that I go and do this, which is why you now find me in Somalia, in Africa.

I have been here for two years.

I don't know if people even bothered to listen as I tried my best to explain why a relationship with Jesus Christ was (is) so important.  They regarded me with blank stares or confused expressions on their faces, even as the translator I'd brought with me parroted what I'd told them (in English) back to them in their native Somalian tongue.

The main majority of the people I'd speken to still didn't seem to "get it".

The very worst thing that could possibly happen to me was that I would be killed for my beliefs, I remember thinking time and time again as I spoke.  One big, beefy fellow with a rock-hard visage and burning, baleful, hate-filled eyes glared at me; he made me a nervous wreck.  I could tell in his mind that he was probably thinking one thing: Kill this foolish-tongued infidel.  She is not like us, and worse, she's an American.  She is the enemy.  Kill her, and kill her as soon as possible, so her dangerous lies can be stopped!

I tried my best not to show any sign of fear or intimidation, but I am sure that my voice squeaked, even wobbled nervously, as I tried my best to explain to these people about God, Jesus Christ, and the Bible-based doctrine.  The group I spoke to (roughly about 20 people) mostly stared blankly at me or shifted uncomfortably, but I was determined to get the Message across to them as best as I knew how.  The mean-looking eyes of the biggest man in the group bore right into the center of my being and caused me to get a feeling of nausea in my belly.

The man I was nervous about must have weighed over 300 pounds easily; he had to have been well over 6'5" tall.  To me he looked liek the giant; I felt more like little-bitty, shrimp-sized David.  I didn't have a chance against this elephantine-sized monster.  He was massive, compared to my tiny, four-foot-six, eighty-pound frame. 

He was gargantuan in size.

It also didn't help that he held a dangerous-looking gun in his hand.  I am sure he must have wanted to shoot me right on the premises.  As I spoke, I began praying in the Spirit, quoting the passages from Psalm 91, asking for God's divine protection.  All I cared about at this particular moment in time was reaching this person (or people) with the living hope that only Jesus Christ, the living Son of God, could have in their lives, only if they were ready and willing to accept it, thus, changing their lives dramatically.

*End of part one; to be continued.*