Monday, August 13, 2012

Guest Blogger: Heather Linn (Mission Trip Santiago)


 
            This was my first experience for an international mission trip. It was also my first experience for a mission trip as an adult. I had gone on several as a middle school/high school student in the U.S and Canada, but never on one to a third world country. I knew that there would be kids to play with, buildings to build, labor to be done. It felt good to do the labor, to be part of a bigger story, but that is not the lasting impression that I took from the trip. It had nothing to do with the millions of nails hit, (more bent or busted than actually into the wood), or the games that were played with kids while they waited their turn for the medical clinic. The lasting impression came from the community, in the heart breaking stories that the people have.             

          The people of Cienfuegos have endured more than imaginable in their lifetimes. They are forced to do labor that we would never imagine doing just to survive. They have to rummage through garbage to find recyclables just to make a wage we would laugh at. I knew they had to do this going into the trip, but seeing it happen is a completely different experience. It is an experience that makes your heart break for them. 

            We were able to tour the community and see the entrance to the trash dump. The entrance is a dirt hill that you climb/slide down until you get to a creek. This creek is lovingly coined “Hepatitis Creek”, looking like you could definitely catch that or worse in it. Some of the trash gets lost in the creek when they exit the dump. People have lost shoes in the muck. The locals just wade through; through all the trash and water run-off. The dirt hill is tricky to navigate on your own with my shoes with grips. There were many times that I would slide some of the way, catching myself before I lost my balance. Again, the locals are able to scale it with ease.
            The school area is a beacon of hope for the children in the community. It is a way out of the life that has become the norm for their families. Pastor Pablo runs a program there called “Kids with a Hope”. This program allows students to receive additional support in their education, 2 warm meals a day, and some basic medical care. They have taken kids who were malnourished and turned them into healthy adolescents. As a teacher, I understand the importance of a full belly when learning. If the students did not have basic needs met, they would not be able to successfully attend school. This program services a couple hundred kids in the community. As a Christian, Educator, Female, or just a person, I view this program as a win. An opportunity for the community to have a safe haven that will hopefully better the lives of the citizens it serves.
            On the school’s campus is a church, where some of the students and families are able to worship on Sunday mornings. We were able to join them in worship the Sunday we were there. Most of the service was in Spanish, and my Spanish is non-existent. I grew in my faith during this service more than I ever remember growing before. I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THEY WERE SAYING! The church had white plastic chairs. There was no air-conditioning, no fancy lights, stage, or media. The building was open air. There was a drum set that was patched up, an acoustic guitar that accompanied some songs. They had a sound system with two microphones that intermittently worked. Yet, here we all were, worshiping Jesus together. It was again, at this service, that it was apparent that Jesus is enough. As much as I enjoy the hoopla that goes on at our American churches, it was glaringly obvious that we don’t need it. All we need is Jesus, His story, and each other.
            I spent a lot of the week wondering what made me so special. The only difference between my life and the life the locals lead is that I was lucky enough to be born to parents that lived in the United States. That’s it! If my parents had lived in Cienfuegos when I was born, it would be me looking for recyclables on the dump. It is obvious through the families that are involved with the school that they are no different than the American parents. Their ultimate goal is to give their kids an opportunity at a life that is better than theirs. Isn’t that all parents really want for their kids? Pastor Pablo gave these parents an opportunity to better the lives of their kids. I hope through the continued efforts of Pastor Pablo that the kids achieve this goal.
            J.J, a pastor at RidgePoint, talked one night after dinner about what happens after the trip. We are all willing to give up our time to help people for a week, but what happens when we get home? How do I continue to spread Jesus’ love even though I am back to my comfortable life? I don’t know what this means for me right now. But I think about his statement a lot. Where in my life can I continue to be a part of something bigger?

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