Imagine having to confront your family with the news God has personally called you on a mission to a small island devastated by a massive earthquake less than 24 hours ago?

Joan of Arc crossed my mind more than once that fateful morning.

Don't get me wrong; my family has a deep vital faith that has sustained us through many hard times.

But even so, I felt hesitant to broach the topic.

It would difficult to tell my mom; I knew I'd have to break it to her gently so she wouldn't worry too much.

Malaria, typhoid, cholera... what on earth was there to worry about?

There was one person in my life who would understand completely, and I couldn't wait to see him.

That person was my boyfriend, James.

We had been dating for about six months at this point, and were nearly inseparable.

The fact we shared a common call to ministry only strengthened our bond.

I knew I could count on James to understand what I felt; he was every bit as passionate for missions as I was, especially since going to Germany in 2006.

Lucky for me, we go to school together.

In between the usual college routine (hectic, of course), we managed to find a few stolen moments to talk in his car.

I told him about God's call that morning, feeling a bit shy as I described the encounter.

His response?

"Well, then we'd better get busy."

James was the first to support me, and it gave me courage to talk to my family and friends.

I had a cause to fight for.