After the mission trip is over, I realize I left with more than I gave, despite the fact nothing about the trip was easy. For a little less than a week I was dropped into a foreign culture and language, and into a poverty level below the radar of those enjoying the large resorts just a few miles away. (Do not misunderstand me to be complaining about resorts, they bring money and jobs into the local community).
From beginning to end I was out of my comfort zone, having to adapt to heat and humidity not controllable by thermostat. As a team member I did whatever I was told which involved sitting through long bumpy rides on narrow pot-holed streets in chaotic traffic; loading and unloading boxes; carrying boxes from one place to another; and setting up and taking down a portable dental clinic. All while continually drinking the clean water provided. And as the days of continuous work added up, predictably fatigue levels rose. Some got sick. Not a surprise with a team size of thirty-nine.
So now, back to pondering the strange fact.
Where does this feeling that I left with more than I gave come from?
The materialist would say that it is a feeling of relief. I survived and now can enjoy my own bed again along with comfortable showers and the rest. I come back appreciating more the life I left behind here to go there. Old possessions appear fresher and newer now. Plus now I have stories to tell about those poor people over there and what I did to help.
But that’s the problem. That wasn’t what happened.
The people over there were not poor just because they may have lacked some material things. I went there and discovered I was impoverished too in certain ways. It was they who had an abundance that seems in rare supply here. It was more of them giving and me receiving.
But that isn’t it completely either.
They, being the Christian community there, shared and displayed the fruits of the abundant life as they themselves served and ministered to the needy around them. They gave me the opportunity to join them in the dance. I discovered friends.
And on an even deeper level, there was God, using a mission trip as a catalyst to soften my heart and improve my life by drawing me closer to his heart for the people he deeply loves (which, it turns out, includes me).
Yep. I do love us!1
I’ve got to go back.
“I do love us!” is the trademarked phrase of San Antonio CMDA co-director Mitzi Roberts. Well, it’s not really trademarked, but it should be.
I have been blessed with having been able to take mission trips to Africa and Mexico. You have beautifully described the feeling you have when you return. One goes with the intention to give of yourself. But you return humbled and with a full heart having seen God's love up close.
Wow! What a great trip. It looks like a lot of fun.