Lessons learned from helping others

I recently returned from my second mission trip to Jamaica and wanted to tell you about my experiences there. If I could live anywhere else but Colorado, it would be Jamaica. There are many reasons I feel so strongly, but most of them I can’t really put into words. There are two things, though that come to mind: First, there’s the beauty of the island itself – everywhere you look, it’s green. It seems every natural surface in Jamaica is alive with some kind of growth. It’s almost as if nature itself is challenging mankind to push it back to make room for human development. And I truly believe that man has only reached a temporary cease-fire in that battle. Secondly it’s the people – I have never been in a place where EVERYONE is so happy to see you. Nor have I ever been to a place where the quality of relationships are more important than the things you own.

Since this was a mission trip, I could stand up here and talk about the things we did and how we helped others, but instead I want to talk about how God helped us. The theme for this year’s trip was ‘be real’. Son Servants chose this theme to describe what our relationship to God and others should look like (real faith, real love, real devotion). We spent a little time every day learning how to have a more real relationship with God and the people in our lives.

I’d like to share some of the ‘real’ stuff I saw on the trip:

Real caring from the staff – We didn’t arrive at the camp until 12:30 AM on Wednesday after traveling 19 hours. The work was to begin that very morning with a wake-up call at 6:30. The staff, obviously, would need to be up prior to that, and yet everyone was awake and greeted us when we arrived. They fed us and sat with us and showed us to our rooms before they themselves went to sleep.

Real growth – some of the quieter members of our group really began to participate and share for the first time since joining Youth Group a year ago during family time. It was amazing to hear how God was touching the lives of kids who I hardly knew though we had spent some time nearly every week together.

Real love – one of the girls came back from the infirmary with tears in her eyes as she talked about one of the residents praying over her. She talked about how she had gone to this VERY sad place to bring comfort to those in need and yet SHE had been comforted. The infirmary in Mandeville, Jamaica completely changed her world-view. Now she is looking for a retirement village in her neighborhood that she can ride her bike to in order to visit the forgotten here in Denver.

Real joy – there is nothing like seeing a bunch of teenagers, covered from head to toe with dirt that stains EVERYTHING, exhausted from digging a hole 6 feet by 8 feet by 8 feet, so happy to work so hard and excited to know they’ll be doing it again tomorrow. It was very apparent that doing God’s work creates in us a joyful heart.

Real community – we not only grew closer to each other as we relied on each other, but created relationships with people we had never met – most of whom we’ll never see again – that we will continue for years to come. We overcame regional barriers with those from other parts of the country and language barriers from those in another country to touch their lives and allow ours to be touched. It was amazing to see people stop what they were doing when a neighbor came walking down the road and REALLY talk to them about their life – not just a quick “how are you” and “I’m fine” before getting back to whatever business was at hand.

Real faith – one of the members of our team shared how he had been wrestling with God about trusting God to care for him and found a peace in that relationship.

Real devotion – When one of our kids got hurt our leader dropped everything to give aid and comfort to that boy, forsaking his own need to eat to care for his wounds.

Real grace – When one of our kids’ luggage was lost in Miami for three days, not once did he complain. Not once did he remark about missing this or that, he just went on with the job at hand, and as an example of real compassion, the rest of our team banded together to make sure he had clothes to wear to the worksite, soap, shampoo, toothpaste to stay clean, blankets to use as bedding. We did our best to insure his hardship was minimized completely.

Real patience - even as the trip was winding down, with 100 tired kids and adults stretched to the end of their rope, even when nerves were wearing thin, not once did we have so much as an argument amongst ourselves. Not once were voices raised in anger. Not once were the lines of right and wrong behaviour so much as grazed, let alone overstepped.

When I went to Jamaica last time, I knew I was going down to help people who had a lot less than I did. What I didn’t realize was how these people had so much more than me in ways that really counted:

They taught me to place my worth not on what I own but on who I’ve touched in a positive way; about counting success not in how many things I scratch off my to do list but in who I’ve spent time with; That God is not found in my schedule, or my phone, or my stuff, but in the faces of every living thing He puts in front of me; That in order to receive God’s grace I must learn to hold everything else in my life lightly; That the most valuable thing I will do today (and every day) is to stop what I’m doing, no matter how important I think it to be, when God calls me through one of His creations to take a moment and share myself with that person.

One of my most poignant memories of this trip was an experience I had with our team’s mason (foreman) on the last day: WE had only known each other for six days. We had shared a little about our lives and gotten to know each other some, but not deeply, yet after we said our goodbyes, I went to get on the bus to go back to camp; Paul stood there and waited like a kid watching his best friend move away. He had concrete mixed and waiting for him to be applied to the wall – it was drying as he stood there, but watching me roll away was more important, meant more to him than doing the job that had to be done before he could go home. You see, in Jamaica they don’t own a bunch of stuff to distract them from what’s important – not the houses, not the water tanks, not the septic systems, not the concrete we poured, but the relationships we built.

All Noble Things are Difficult

"Thank God He does give us difficult things to do...[they] test us for all we are worth...God's grace turns out men and women with a strong family likeness to Jesus Christ, not milksops." - Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, July 7

On more than one occasion, I have heard somebody say, "Why does life have to be so hard?" or something similar. It seems many (including myself) wish life could always be simple, always be easy, always be fun. The truth is, as I follow Jesus, life is often more difficult than I ever imagined. I am tested in ways that often make me question whether it is worth it or not. I often ask myself why God puts such a hard road in front of me.

Many live the the mistaken idea that, by accepting Christ in their lives, their lives will be easier, but that is not what Christ promised. In fact he promised the exact opposite: "You will be universally hated for my name, but anyone who stands firm will be saved." This says to me, "The world will be against you if you stand up for me." It's not that God is making my life hard, the world and all that is not of God is fighting against my determination to keep God at the center of my life.

What God does promise is He will be with me and, if I do make my stand in Him, He will help me through all that comes at me, and He has ALWAYS been faithful to that promise

Looking for justice in an unjust world

"Never look for justice in this world, but never cease to give it" - Oswald Chambers, My Utmost of His Highest, June 27.

It seems to me that to be a true follower of Jesus means to accept the fact that I am going to be treated badly, partly because of what I believe, by those that don't follow Him. That those who follow the ways of the world are not going to be concerned with my welfare or my well being. Yet I am compelled by the One who gives me life to treat them fairly and honestly. I am to be concerned about their welfare as much (or more) than I am about mine.

How is that fair? Where is the justice in that? The simple answer is this: It's not and it isn't. Jesus, when He walked on this earth, knew he would be betrayed by the ones who loved Him. He knew He would be rejected by the ones He came to save. He didn't worry about justice. If He had, we would not have His example to follow because He wouldn't have come to earth in the first place.

In order to be an example of the man Jesus wants me to be I, too, must learn to treat people not as they treat me, but as Jesus dealt with everyone He came into contact with - with love, generosity, compassion. In doing so, I show others the peace I have found in Him. I glorify His kingdom and, hopefully, help it grow right here on this rock we call earth.

Life changing lessons of missional work - Pt 2

Two years ago I went to Jamaica on this same mission project with Son Servants and while there, as we always do, we went to the local infirmary. Jamaica is broken down into provinces like our states and each province has a state-run infirmary. From what I understand, the infirmary in Manchester (where we work) ranks low in quality compared to others. Now just so you understand, the infirmaries are not a place people go to heal - they are where people wind up who cannot take care of themselves and have no family or friends to care for them. Many are mentally handicapped - some very much so - and others suffer from physical disabilities that make living alone impossible. A few are very rarely even out of their bed. But for all of them, this is most probably their last stop before returning to their Creator. Son Servants visits the infirmary every year, partly to do minor work projects, but mainly to visit with the residents - many of whom never have visitors.


So two years ago, I was helping to organize a bunch of teenagers to paint a couple of buildings, since that is my profession anyway, and was working mainly in two areas about 150 feet apart. I had a fanny pack on me that carried my camera, my wallet, and all our traveler's checks (my two younger sons were with me) and I took it off to move a bunch of stuff. I asked the kids in that building to keep an eye on it for me (a bad idea at best). A few minutes later, I realized the kids I left with my pack were now with me and they didn't have my pack! As I rushed back to look for it, panic started to set in: All our money for the trip was in there, and my ID, and my credit cards, all the photos of the trip in my camera...

Then a voice in my head (the cynic will say it was just me talking to myself - the romantic in me says it was the Holy Spirit) said, "Larry, you came here to work with these people, to show the love of Jesus Christ to those in need, to build relationships. Now you can focus on your stuff and ruin your day, and possibly your trip, or you can get back to the work you came here to do." And an odd sense of peace fell over me. I went back to work until I saw someone in charge, then told them what had happened and accepted I would have to deal with the consequences of my stupidity when I got back to the States. While I continued to work, those in charge did all the right things - they called the police, searched the area, had me speak to the police, etc., and I continued to work. Thirty minutes later, I was shocked to get my pack with my wallet (and all its contents, including my traveler's cheques receipt) back. I spent much of the next day at the local bank replacing my traveler's cheques and pondering the lesson I was privileged to receive:

So much of our lives in the U.S. are wrapped up in the acquiring of stuff. The ads on TV tell us we need more stuff, better stuff, newer stuff. We measure our success by the amount and quality of our stuff. we build houses to hold all our stuff and build fences to protect our stuff and lock it away so no one can steal our stuff. By the time we are in our prime, we have so much stuff that we spend our time worrying about our stuff and not focusing on what's important - people, and the grace of God that he rains down on us every day. There are people in our families, living on our streets, going to our churches that are much more important than any of our stuff, and we ignore them because our focus is on stuff - the stuff we have and the stuff we want. The visual I have in my head is of the person walking out of a store with so many packages they can't hardly hold all of them, piled so high they can't see where they are walking. In essence, that is each of us, and we hold all our stuff close so we don't loose it or have it taken from us. Our hands are so full we couldn't possibly hold one more thing.

Here's the problem: with our hands so full, we can't possibly reach out for the grace of God. We can't grasp the peace He wants each of to own in our lives. We can't hold those around us who need our love. In order to truly enjoy the abundance of the One who created us, we must be willing to let go of all that stuff and trust Him to give us what we need. We need to re-prioritize what is really important and know that everything else is just... stuff.

Man Describes Heaven

Tim Challies reviewed Don Piper's '90 Minutes in Heaven.' He made a statement that really struck home with me.

"Piper’s description of heaven left me cold. I was dismayed to find that his heaven seems largely man-centered. In fact, if you were to ask your unbelieving friends and neighbors to describe heaven, they would probably create a place very much like this. Piper did not see Jesus, nor did he see God, though, to be fair, he saw only the “outskirts” and did not pass through the gates. Despite this, he was exceedingly joyful and feels that he experienced the very joys of paradise. For ninety minutes he walked through heaven, greeted by those he knew in this life, all of whom were (quite conveniently), the same age they were when he had last known them.

Piper’s heaven was a place of reunion with loved ones, a place of beautiful music and a place of literal pearl (or “pearlescent”) gates and literal streets of gold. It is a heaven that can be so easily described to a human mind using mere human words, as if it had originated in a human mind. Piper is able to describe it in some detail, but what he presents is surely far too human to be heaven."

How often do we humanize God and the things of God? When we reduce God to human terms we reduce God. Glorify God and do not reduce him to your level.

Reconciling one's self to the fact of sin

In 'My Utmost for His Highest', Oswald Chambers wrote for today: "The recognition of sin does not destroy the basis of friendship, it establishes a mutual regard for the fact that the basis of life is tragic."

So many times in my life I have been hurt, let down, or betrayed by the people I love. At this stage in my walk with Christ, I have come to realize that will always be the case. It's not that I am a cynic, it is just that I realize that man is a sinful, self-centered beast (and being one, so am I) and will, at some time, fall back on his humanity. In the process, someone is going to be hurt.

When Christ was on the earth, He knew He would be betrayed. He knew he would suffer at the hands of men. And yet He loved fully. He was fully present and giving in every way to everyone He met.

I guess what I am trying to say is: I need to be aware that in my relationships I am bound to be hurt either on purpose or by accident, but that in spite of that I need to love my fellow man as completely as I can and trust God to make those pains okay instead of holding back from those around me lest I have to suffer at all.

The Life-Changing Lessons of Missional Work

I just returned from Jamaica for the second time since 2007. As part of a team working with Son Servants – a missional arm of Youth Conference Ministries (ycmhome.org) – I had the privilege of being an adult volunteer leader for our senior high youth group. I say privilege because it seems that each time I go to ostensibly do something for others, namely build houses for the poor of that nation, something is done to me. I am permanently and indelibly altered in my thinking and value system. In essence, the very meaning for living my life is challenged by simply meeting and interacting with the people of this beautiful island.

One of the first things you will hear from the veterans of this trip is when we are in Jamaica, we will be working on ‘Jamaica Time’. What that basically means is, “It will get done when it gets done,” or, “the schedule is VERY flexible.” Since we are working in a third-world country, there are always unforeseen difficulties – broken-down busses, failing equipment, lack of manpower, missing materials, etc. – that make adaptability a much needed gift to have. As Americans, so much of our lives are schedule-driven that trying to stay on task in Jamaica can drive you crazy if you let it. Yet, for the Jamaicans, this is business-as-usual. They live with these problems everyday and yet, I could see no signs of stress in the locals I was working with on either trip. I have no proof to back up my theory, but I would hazard a guess that heart disease and hypertension are not common ailments in Jamaica. So why would a nation that can’t stay on track the way we can not suffer from these problems when they are so prevalent in the US? Why would a people that have so much difficulty simply having enough food and water to provide for their families not be wringing their hands and dropping like flies of stress-related disorders? I have prayed long and hard for an answer to this question and I think the answer can be summed up in a very simple statement – “God is not found in a schedule.” We spend so much time here worrying about whether we will accomplish this or that goal that we completely miss the grace that God pours out to us every day. We are unable to see past our daytimers and PDA’s and cell phone calendars to the gifts God leaves for us in our daily walk – Things like a beautiful sunset, or the child amusing himself with a simple cardboard box, or the love of our families. We spend so much time trying to stay ahead of the clock that we run right past the truly important things in life – a family dinner, a bedtime story with our kids, a much-needed phone call to a hurting friend, a moment of quiet with our God and Creator.

When I go to Jamaica for these mission trips, I go planning to work HARD, to do whatever is asked of me to the very best of my ability with absolutely no expectations or preexisting biases. I go knowing I will come back exhausted and used up. Yet, I go knowing I will be refreshed in spirit in a way I cannot anywhere in the US. I know this because I go without my cell phone. I leave behind my watch. I don’t take a calendar. I go planning to be told where to be, what to do, and how to do it as need be for ten days. And when I get back I realize just how much I hate my electronic leash, how much I despise my over-filled calendar, and how much I long for the peace of truly living in the moment – whatever that moment brings.

There are other lessons I wish to share, but I am still on Jamaica time. I will get to them when I get to them.