The first missions trip I went on was in the summer of 2007. Sixteen of us, about half youth and half adults, went to Costa Rica and stayed at the Capernwray Bible school in San Jose. We drywalled a tiny church (the size of my bedroom) and painted one large room of a women's shelter green. I was fifteen, about to turn sixteen, and as far as I can remember my primary motivation for going on the trip was that it sounded fun and my friends were going. I bought a camera, got a passport, swam in the Pacific while it rained, and went on a plane for the first time. I also experienced some interpersonal difficulties that I don't recall dealing with very well, and generally didn't do much except what was expected of me. However, as a first missions trip experience, I'm glad I was there.
The second missions trip I went on, in August 2008, was spent half in Quebec City, QC, and half in a tiny town (also in Quebec) right near the US border, called Noyan. During the first six days, while we helped with the initiative Quebec Espoir (Hope for Quebec) in Quebec City, I felt quite insecure and isolated; most of the people we interacted with were speaking French, and the extent of the outreach I could manage was to hold out a Gospel of John to people on the street and say, "Un cadeau?" ("A gift?"). Our days of outreach were fairly uncertain and spur-of-the-moment affairs, a setup that, as an anxious Type A personality, I didn't respond to well. During these six days, it poured rain and I soaked my shoes, I saw a master Jack Sparrow impersonator, I developed a faux French accent, and I turned 17.
During the second six days, the trip improved for me. Despite being horribly homesick and nursing a fairly bad attitude left over from the first six days, I enjoyed the time we spent nailing siding to Noyan's new church. I also went water-skiing (or tried) for the first time, received a can of real Quebec maple syrup, went to a hot air balloon fair, watched Sahara, and got a blister from using a hammer. Even reflecting back on the trip on the plane as we headed home, I felt like I'd been there mostly for myself and that had somewhat sabotaged the experience.
I'm leaving for Vicente Guerrero, Baja, Mexico in 12 days, to serve in an orphanage, and this is what I've been reflecting on. My initial motivation for signing up for this trip was a sense of, "Oh, I've got it now. I know it's not for fun and I'll be able to really step outside myself now that I know what NOT to do." I'm not sure this is true, and that I won't come home from Mexico with some new additions to the How Not to Serve Selflessly list, but I do feel that I have some perspective on the way short-term missions affects an individual and what the best way to deal with some of that is. But I'm intimidated.
I'm scared that I'll forget to pack something essential. (I forgot my passport in the printer for Costa Rica, and my dad had to drive back from the airport and get it for me before our flight took off.) I'm scared that I'll be completely unprepared for some unforeseen aspect of the trip. I'm scared that I'll lose perspective and fail at being the selfless, eager-to-serve person I want to be. I'm scared of feeling inadequate, stupid, shallow or ineffective.
Prayer for all of this would be amazing. I've been praying about it myself, but particularly from July 3-11, I'd really appreciate the support.
It's not that I'm not excited. I bought new books for the plane ride and am collecting a little stack of things to bring on my dresser, and I'm ecstatic about the group of people with whom I get to spend a week. (I'm not just saying that because some of them will probably read this.) But I know now that short-term missions isn't a vacation or a thrill ride.
It might not be pretty. But it'll be worth it.
