Short-term Mission Trips

Who benefits the most?

After the mission trip was over, I realized I took away with more than I gave.

Mind you, nothing about it was easy. No resemblance to a vacation other than being in an exotic location. For a week I was dropped into a foreign culture and language, as well as a poverty level way below that of real vacationers enjoying the large resorts just a few miles away.

From beginning to end I was out of my comfort zone, having to adapt to heat and humidity not thermostatically controllable. And as just one member of the team I did whatever I was told. This at times 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. A few got sick, but not as many as the year before. Not a surprise with a team size of forty-one or two.

So, where did the idea and supporting feelings that I benefited more than I benefited others 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 came back appreciating more the life I left behind. Old possessions appeared fresher and newer now than before. 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 I have a family over there.

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).

PS. I wrote most of this about my first mission trip to the Dominican Republic in 2022. I returned again this year and my opinions remain the same.