Jan 7, 2026 A Perfect Number: Debbie’s Journey to Zimbabwe

Some mission stories begin with a sudden opportunity. Others begin with a whisper—an old prayer tucked quietly into the heart. For Debbie, this trip to Zimbabwe was both.

When I first asked her whether she was one of the latecomers on the trip, she smiled and shook her head. “No,” she said. “I’ve been planning for it for months.” Debbie wasn’t new to missions, nor to Quiet Hour Ministries, the ministry that helped connect her with opportunities around the world. She’d known about them for years and had already traveled overseas several times, most of them to a place her heart is deeply tied to: India.

“I’ve gone to India six other times,” she said. Some of those journeys were with Quiet Hour Ministries, others with different groups. But every one of them traced back to a simple, longing prayer.

Before her very first mission trip, Debbie had prayed earnestly: “Lord, let me go. I’ve always wanted to be an overseas missionary.” She remembers praying that prayer months beforehand, but especially during camp meeting. She even prayed something strangely specific: “If it’s Your will, even Zimbabwe, I’ll go.”

Not long after, someone approached her and asked, “Debbie, do you want to go to India?”

She said yes without hesitation, and India became, for years, the place where her soul found purpose and joy.

But this year, India was closed. And though her heart still longed for it, Debbie began praying again: “Lord, show me where to go. I want India… but if not, show me where.”

And Zimbabwe came back into focus, 11 years after that first prayer.

“It’s my seventh trip,” she said. “And seven is the perfect number.”

Debbie hadn’t been on a mission trip since just before COVID. She returned from India in early 2020, visited her daughter for a week, then flew home, just days before travel restrictions shut everything down. “It was that close,” she said.

But she never stopped preparing for another mission.

“We don’t have a lot of money,” she told me. “But I still want to go on mission trips.” Instead of bake sales or fundraisers, Debbie chose something humble and steady, something she could do alone, anytime she had the energy.

She collected bottles and cans.

In Oregon, each one is worth 10 cents. She’s allowed to return 144 a day. Still, she kept collecting. Family, church members, and friends began handing her their recyclables, knowing what she was doing it for.

“Over $4,000 came from bottles,” she said proudly. “A friend gave me about $200, but the rest… recycling.”

“Wow,” I said. “You’re saving money, recycling, and helping the planet while saving souls!”

“That’s a two-for,” she laughed. “This is something I can do.”

It took her at least 278 days to save up that money. Two hundred and seventy-eight days of working towards this prayer.

With her savings, she began checking mission options, Quiet Hour Ministries and others. She prayed for guidance. And God reminded her of Zimbabwe.

I asked Debbie about her favorite part of the trip. She didn’t hesitate.

“Honestly, the whole thing. I love how we come with our own plans, but God switches it all around.”

She’s seen that on every trip. Bags get delayed but show up at the perfect time. Schedules shift. Plans unravel. But God weaves everything back together.

“That’s how it always works out,” she said. “I love those moments.”

Her seventh trip. A prayer answered 11 years later. A journey funded by thousands of cans and bottles and countless acts of faith. A reminder that God doesn’t forget, even when the wait feels long.

India didn’t open this year. But Zimbabwe did. And Debbie walked into it with joy, purpose, and the quiet confidence of someone who knows God writes better stories than we do.

“I’m really proud of this trip,” she said. And she should be.

It’s a beautiful story of faith, perseverance, and a God who sees every prayer, no matter how old.