The Missionary Goes on a Mission Trip
A few weeks ago my church announced that they would be doing a weekend missions trip to another village in Uganda. My first thought was… pass… I am already doing missions in my everyday life and I knew that a white person going to a more remote village could cause more trouble than help. However, God had other plans. I kept thinking about this mission trip and feeling God’s pull to go. So I signed up hesitantly knowing it was going to be different and uncomfortable. I had no idea just how uncomfortable and how mindset-shifting it would be. There were about 30 of us going including about 12 kids who are boarding students at the school, chosen to come with us. We were going to be doing a prayer night our first night, door to door evangelism the next day followed up by a crusade Saturday night and then finish with church on Sunday. We needed to bring speakers, guitars, a keyboard along with our mattresses and of course the 30 people. As I pulled up to the church I saw the church van which carries about 25 people being filled with all of our supplies and wondered how we were going to get there if the van was taking all our stuff. Of Course, we will be squeezing in with the stuff. 30 people in seats for 15, no problem J I chose a seat towards the front and then looked down to see the ground under me, oh yes there are holes in the floor of the van. After all the sardines were packed in the bus, we were ready to set off. However the bus was in need of gas and we couldn’t even get it to start (did I mention preplanning is not a Ugandan trait) so another 20 minutes and someone returns with a gas can and we really do get going. After three hours of driving and a few dusty bumpy roads we can see the end in sight. We are only 15 minutes away when all of a sudden, we feel something REALLY hot under our feet. Knowing that something is wrong and not knowing how long until something catches on fire we begin jumping out of the windows to escape the heat. The engine had overheated and needed a cold bath. We decided
to just walk the rest of the way and let the bus catch up to us. So we all walked to town and right into their soccer games.
When the games were finished we are shown to our accommodations. I knew to be prepared for less than the Ritz Carlton but had to laugh when I stepped into a room no bigger than 7X7 that six of us would be sharing. We laid our 2” thick mattresses on the ground and got settled in. They showed us the way to the pit latrines and the concreate slab shower. Now at this moment I was so out of my comfort zone, I could have just cried but then I looked into the room where the owner of the home was staying, it was smaller than our room and their whole family was squished in there. They had given up their whole house to allow us to stay. They were kind and hospitable and I was going to be upset because it’s uncomfortable for me?
After a dinner of rice, beans and cassava we prepared for the prayer night. Right as we were finishing, one of the pastors asked if I would share my testimony at the prayer night.
1 Peter 3:15 says “always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you” and I was happy to share… until I saw the 200 plus faces staring back at me. I prayed that God would speak the words that people needed to hear and I began to tell my story of how I came to know the Lord and follow after Him. I cannot tell you what I said because it was God not me speaking but afterwards I felt such joy knowing that God was continuing to push me out of my zone and into His arms. After the prayer night we returned to our room and settled in for a good night sleep.
Saturday morning we had breakfast and then split into groups to go door to door. I felt like I would be useless in this because I would need a translator anytime I spoke so I thought I
would just watch as the others went. I was placed in a group with my soon to be cousin Gitta, (Herbart’s Cousin) who is a pastor, and a 12 year old boy who had saved his own money to come on the trip. Before we headed out Gitta and I talked about using the “Roman Road” to explain the gospel and decided that Gitta would speak and I would smile. Off to the first house, a jja jja (grandma) who was wanting prayer for her back and encouragement. Gitta began to speak and I was somehow understanding him. I promise you my Luganda is not that good but I was understanding enough that when we finished I was able to add a verse of encouragement. We then had a prayer over this jja jja and went to the next house. I couldn’t help but smile at the fact that this young boy is already sharing the gospel and learning from the older generation. He had his bible in hand and was ready to jump in. We took turns at each house praying for the people and allowed God to speak to what needed to be said at each house. A few hours later we returned to prepare for the crusade. The crusade was full of singing, dancing, preaching and then showing the Jesus film. I was happy to play a supporting role in this and did not lead any of the singing or dancing. J
Sunday we went to church and then packed up and headed back to Kampala. The whole way home I was thinking about American mission trips versus this trip I had just been on. One of my biggest struggles living in Uganda is the idea of “When Helping Hurts”. I know without short term trips most missionaries, including me, would not be long term missionaries, but I also see the amount of work that it takes to host a team. Visiting teams fear for their health and comfort and sometimes miss the most beautiful way that people care. Yes, I know eating goat might not taste good, and yes, I know you can see parts of a goat you never wanted to eat but
someone killed their goat for you. So just take a little and eat it. I know that using the pit latrines might be uncomfortable but someone cleaned that pit latrine for you and opened their home to you so just grin and squat. If you go on a mission trip and all you have to show are some pictures with children you cannot name and a souvenir from the trip, you missed the point of the trip. We are to go and serve not be served. Playing with kids can be fun but serving the people who care for those children will have such a bigger impact. I know painting a wall for a week might not seem helpful but if that is what needs done than it’s the best thing you can do. As we go into summer and mission trips begin, I ask with you to try to step into their culture instead of having them come to yours. Make the Gospel and your service to those God has sent you to the main focus. You will survive for a week outside your comfort zone and I pray that through the discomfort God shows you that He is teaching you new things about His plans and provision and you will be all the better for it.