In my previous post, I wrote a little about the African Adventure I had smack-dab in the middle of the Ebola outbreak.

It’s hard to even scratch the surface of the trip’s impact, and on the plane ride home I remember thinking I’d learned a lot, but was grateful the learning was winding down now, allowing me much-needed process time.

Several months ago, in the height of the Ebola outbreak, I was scheduled to go to Africa to help women and children in need. Many people in my life, including family and doctors, strongly urged me not to go. They said it was not safe and that I could go a different time. They said it wasn’t worth the risk.

I disagreed. Because Africans need to know that their country is more than a medical label or deadly virus. That they are valuable and deserve care, regardless of danger. That they are worth the risk.